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Daughter In Distress

This is a new protective! dad! Tommy Kinard imagine for you all, I hope you'll like it. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Summary: A simple day of going to the park and playing basketball goes horribly wrong when someone tries to take Tommy and (Y/n)'s daughter.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're late."

A grin broke out on Tommy's face as he walked up the path towards the basketball court. He slung his backpack down from his shoulder and placed it on the bench next to Eddie and Buck who were stood at the side of the court.

His eyes cast down to the watch on his wrist before he looked back up at them.

"By three minutes, that's more or less on time." Tommy countered while he looked around.

Chimney was stood to one side on the phone and the rest of the team were hovering about starting warm ups and making jokes. Tommy wasn't exactly late when it looked like the rest of them had only just arrived.

He hadn't been to last week's basketball game since he had been on shift and so had Eddie and Chimney. But they were all off for this week's game.

"You're still the last one to arrive." Eddie quipped while he felt Buck loop an arm around his shoulders and he felt a kiss against the back of his head.

"I walked (Y/n) and the squad down to the park on my way over, I'll have you know."

Tilting his head back, Tommy lifted his arms above his head and clicked his spine and his neck into place. He had worn his light grey sleeveless hoodie and a pair of aqua blue shorts. The sun was beaming down on them today and Tommy could feel himself sweating already and they hadn't even started the game yet.

"Hm, we'll let you off then. Come on." Buck inclined his head towards the court and turned round, clapping his hands in the air.

Tommy had walked down here with (Y/n), their three kids, and Chris who had stayed over with them last night. Since it was a nice day they had decided to go to the park while all the boys went to their basketball game. There was a park two minutes down the road from the court right along the beach front.

He stretched his arms above his head and followed his brother in law over onto the court where everyone was starting to set up and get ready.

"Okay, here we go."

A smile lit up (Y/n)'s face as she crouched down in front of the push chair and reached forward for her youngest. Billy had been asleep the whole walk here but he was finally starting to wake up and come alive now, just in time to play on the swings.

(Y/n) unclipped him from the pram and picked up him, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek before she settled him on her hip and stood up. The one year old tucked his face into her chest, yawning around the pacifier between his lips.

Her fingers carded through his wild curls and she kissed the top of his head before she turned to the left towards Blake.

"Why can't I play with dad and uncle Eddie?" He kicked his shoe against the gravel and looked down for a moment before he looked back up at (Y/n) with those big doe eyes that matched Tommy so well.

"It's firefighters only, baby."

"Dad's a pilot."

"He's still a firefighter. Baby you're too young to play with all of them, you'd get knocked down, especially with uncle Buck playing. Wait until the weekend, dad will take you for a smaller game."

It wouldn't be fair for Blake to try and join in when it was a game for adults, they could easily bash into him or knock him down and break a bone. And Tommy wouldn't be the nicest to be around if that happened. Nor could Blake sit and watch because he would get annoyed that he couldn't join in and he would be distracting.

Tommy had promised to take him and Chris for a milder version of basketball at the weekend with Eddie and Buck. He said Bonnie could join in too, but he had a feeling she wouldn't want to play.

"What're you going on then?" (Y/n) moved the pushchair near the metal fence that surrounded the park and placed her bag over her shoulder, just to keep it safe.

"Climbing wall."

Blake headed off across the soft tarmac, hearing his mum call "Be careful," as he headed to the rock climbing wall that led up to a large metal slide.

Tilting her head, (Y/n) looked over towards the mini roundabout where Chris and Bonnie had filtered over to. Chris was slowly kicking his foot out to turn the roundabout while Bonnie sat on the rainbow bench and clapped her hands giddily.

They had all enjoyed their sleepover together and (Y/n) had a funny feeling that Chris would ask if he could stay over again tonight. Something neither (Y/n) or Tommy would object to since all the kids were well behaved when they were together and Chris was never a bother to have round. It gave Eddie and Buck a bit more time to themselves where they could go out or just watch a movie together and spend some time alone.

(Y/n) kept her eyes on the other three kids while she headed to the baby swing and gently eased Billy down into the seat. He immediately patted his hands down against the plastic bar in front of him and started to kick his legs. Babbling happily as the pacifier dropped and hung round his tummy since it was clipped to his top.

"Here we go, baby." She began slowly pushing him back and forth, kissing his head every time he swayed back towards her.

They would likely spend a good forty minutes here and then they would head back to the basketball court and watch the last of Tommy's game.

She kept an eye on the kids, watching Chris and Bonnie switch from the roundabout to the second set of swings just across from the slide. Where Blake was doing a repeated motion of climbing the wall and shooting down the slide, trying to see how fast he could climb.

After a while, (Y/n) lifted Billy from the swing and set him down to his feet, staying close as he plodded in front of her. He wasn't the best at walking yet, he kicked his legs out straight rather than bending his knees, but he was surprisingly fast.

She followed him over to the smaller, plastic climbing frame that was more for toddlers and more his height.

"Wanna go down the slide?" Blake jogged over to them and held his hand out for his younger brother, grinning widely when Billy took his hand.

He lifted Billy up the steps and guided him over to the slide, sitting the toddler between his legs so they could go down the slide together. The sight made (Y/n) smile and she snapped a quick photo, noticing just how much both boys seemed to resemble Tommy in lots of little ways. From how their eyes creased when they smiled to the way their noses crinkled when they laughed.

"What park did dad get stuck on the slide?" Blake tilted his head to the side, looking over at (Y/n) quizzically while she made sure Chris and Bonnie were okay on the zipline in the corner.

She looked back at her boys and grinned, thinking hard about what her nine year old was referring to.

"Oh, that was on the other side of town, near uncle Eddie's place."

Blake would have only been about four. They had just had Bonnie and when they went to the park, Blake wanted someone to go down the slide with him. Needless to say, they didn't go back to that park often after Tommy had a hard time getting down and then getting off the slide.

He hadn't been pleased when (Y/n) snapped a picture of him struggling, rather than trying to help him up. She still had that photo hung proudly in a frame near the top of the stairs at home. Showing her husband's large frame crammed into a small plastic slide with Blake giggling between his legs.

(Y/n) folded her arms over her chest and watched the boys go down the slide another two times before Blake started playing hide and seek with Billy. The toddler started to squeal, slamming his feet down as he trotted around the bottom of the slide.

Leaning back, (Y/n) looked across at the zipline but her smile morphed into a frown when she couldn't see Chris or Bonnie there anymore.

Where had they gone to now?

She held her hand out towards Billy and leaned down to take his hand, guiding him with her while she nodded for Blake to follow them.

Her eyes cast around the park, looking between the other parents and the few kids scattered around running from swing to swing with glee. What were Chris and Bonnie up to? Where had they disappeared to? (Y/n) liked to keep them within her sights in case they wandered and tried to talk to strangers or ended up falling off of something and hurting themselves.

Chris was an accident prone and Bonnie was a drifter living in a daydream. It wasn't the best combination without parental supervision.

"Where's Bonnie?" (Y/n) gave a tug on Billy's hand and smiled as he looked around as if he could find her any quicker.

"(Y/n)!"

A shiver crawled down (Y/n)'s spine at the shrill way her nephew screamed her name.

She spun on her heels and looked around, unsure where Chris's voice was coming from until she finally spotted a familiar crop of brown curls near the climbing frame. As quick as anything, (Y/n) leaned down and scooped Billy up from the floor and headed off in a sprint, Blake right at her side, neither of them sure what was happening.

The panic (Y/n) felt seemed to flicker off in all directions, sparking different thoughts and questions.

She could see Chris, he was down on his knees beside the metal fence that surrounded the perimeter of the park. He was three inches away from the gate which was hanging open, the hinges creaking awfully and grating through (Y/n)'s ears when she got closer.

And there was Bonnie, laid on the floor just in front of the gate.

"What happened?" (Y/n) turned and stood Billy in front of Blake who reached down and held him by the shoulders so the toddler wouldn't try and wander off. The boys stood a few feet to the left, still close enough for Blake to reach out and hold his mum's shoulder if he felt the need.

He watched his mum go down on her knees in front of them, looking between Chris and Bonnie. Waiting for anyone to give her an explanation while other people started to turn to see what was going on.

(Y/n) could feel her heart hammering away in her chest and all the blood seemed to fizzle out of her hands and feet and flood her chest and stomach instead. Adrenaline fueled through her abdomen and made butterflies crawl up her chest when Bonnie howled.

The five year old pushed up from where she was lying on the floor and immediately crawled onto her mother's lap. She bound her arms around (Y/n)'s waist and burrowed her face into her stomach, sobbing so loudly and sharply that (Y/n) felt as if she was the one screaming instead of her daughter.

"Baby what's the matter, did you fall?"

Leaning down, she pressed her lips against the top of Bonnie's head and curled her arms around her. But she didn't like the way her daughter was trembling against her.

"T-the man…"

"What? What man?"

When she didn't get a response from either of them, (Y/n) leaned over and gripped Bonnie beneath her arms. She hoisted her up and moved her so she was sat on her knees. (Y/n) kept one hand on Bonnie's waist and the other started to rub up and down her back.

The little girl was taking shallow, bubbling breaths, mixing between crying and screaming which was starting to put (Y/n) on edge.

"Chris, what's happened?" She could see she wasn't going to get much out of Bonnie right now.

But when she looked over her nephew, she realised Chris looked very shaken. He was knelt up on the floor but he was holding his arms very close to his sides and his head was hung down. His eyes were flitting from side to side, unsure what to focus on or where to look and he was subtly shaking.

"A man, he asked Bonnie to go with him, out the park." Chris pointed at the gate that was starting to slow down from swaying back and forth on old rusted hinges.

(Y/n)'s head snapped up and she looked around, but she couldn't see any man close by. The only people outside of the playground was an older couple walking their dog and a young mother with two children headed down the path towards the park. Whoever the man was, he had clearly left in a hurry which made (Y/n) suddenly feel worse.

"I said no, a-and he pulled my hair." Bonnie lifted her head and moved a shaking hand to the right side of her head.

Terror ransacked (Y/n)'s body when she realised there was a small scratch of blood on the side of Bonnie's head.

Her hands reached out and cupped her daughter's face, tilting her head down so she could look at her properly but it felt like ice cold spikes were cutting through (Y/n)'s chest. There were at least three scratches along Bonnie's temple that went up into her hairline. The two plats (Y/n) had braided into her hair were now coming loose and looked obscure like Bonnie had been dragged through a bush.

Whoever it was had tried to grab her by her hair to make her leave. He had scratched her head and pulled on her hair so harshly a few strands had come loose.

Someone had tried to kidnap her daughter.

"What happened to your hand?" (Y/n) asked quietly when she noticed Bonnie's left hand was starting to swell. When she reached out to try and touch it, Bonnie pulled back with a howl and cradled her hand to her chest.

"She trapped it in the gate, w-when the man grabbed her hair." Chris shuffled closer into (Y/n)'s side and leaned his cheek on her arm, too afraid to look up and see the panic and anger flood his auntie's face. He looped a hand around her arm that was now trembling and cuddled up close. "We said no… I tried to stop him."

Tears rolled down (Y/n)'s face before she could stop them. She pressed her lips together so tightly her upper lip started to cut against her teeth and she swiped her hand across her face, wiping away the tears.

She looked down at Chris and managed to kiss the top of his head, cupping his cheek.

"Thank you."

The man might have tried harder if Bonnie was alone. Having Chris next to her and both of them saying no clearly unsettled him and he couldn't drag a screaming child from the park without someone noticing.

He had fled. (Y/n) wasn't sure if that was such a good thing or not. He had gone, he wasn't going to terrorise her children any longer. But now they had no chance of finding him. He could try again. He could try and take another child. He could see Bonnie in the street or in a different park and try his luck. He might get her if he tried again.

Each breath (Y/n) tried to take hitched higher and higher until she was barely breathing at all and her sight was fading into tunnel vision.

Her arms bound around Bonnie and she attached her daughter to her chest, holding her with one arm while her other arm looped around Chris. She stood to her feet, tugging Chris with her while Blake stepped closer with Billy who was none the wiser to what was going on.

"Mum?"

"We're leaving." Cold tremors rattled through (Y/n) as she deadlocked Chris's hand in hers and watched Blake closely as he picked Billy up so they could move faster.

"Are we going back to dad?" Blake whispered, unsure whether he was okay to talk or whether his mum was on a mission and was going to go mute in her state of panic.

"Yes. Stay close, Chris hold the pushchair for me, you stay right next to me." (Y/n) was grateful that Blake clipped Billy into the chair so she didn't have to set Bonnie down.

She looped her bag over the pushchair handle and moved Chris's hand to the handle so he was clinging to the chair. She kept Bonnie sat on her left hip, despite the ache it caused to be carrying her daughter around. She wasn't putting her down. Not for a second.

Her right hand grabbed the chair and she had Chris tucked up against her right hip and Blake holding her left elbow for peace of mind for them both. They made a brisk walk to the other gate and bolted, walking as fast as they could down the path towards the promenade.

It was a five minute walk along the sea front down to the basketball court where all the boys would be.

Chris wanted both his dads and Blake and Bonnie wanted their dad. (Y/n) wanted her husband.

She didn't know what to do.

This had never happened before. None of the kids had ever been hurt or almost kidnapped like this. It was a lucky escape that the stranger hadn't run off with Bonnie and that she hadn't gotten hurt more than this.

What would (Y/n) have done if someone managed to take her daughter or God forbid, Chris as well?

(Y/n) had taken the kids out millions of times on her own. She took them to the beach and the aquarium and the parks and down to the zoo. She took them places on her own and she felt confident enough to do that because she was a good mother and kept an eye on them all. Nothing had ever happened whilst she'd been looking after Chris and her kids before.

Was this why (Y/n) always felt safer when Tommy came with them?

It was no secret that no one gave them a second look when Tommy was with them. He was like an omen. Over six foot tall with a broad muscular frame and an expression that no one wanted to mess with. He was an omen of protection just with his looks.

Would that man have tried to take Bonnie if Tommy had been down here with them? Of course he wouldn't. Tommy was a threat, he was built and muscular and could give anyone a run for their money in a chase. If Tommy had been in the park with them he would have frightened anyone off the thought of trying to snatch a child from the park.

(Y/n) felt Blake lean his head on her arm and move closer to her side, suddenly mute and afraid as he felt as small as a mouse. His boysterous, outgoing personality died down immediately and he tried not to shake as the three of them were almost running down the promenade to reach the basketball court.

Someone had tried to snatch his sister. What would his mum have done if they succeeded? Would the police have come down and done a search and rescue for her? Would they have found her? What would happen in their family if they didn't get Bonnie back?

Would they still have to talk to the police even though Bonnie hadn't been taken?

(Y/n) could feel tears briskly falling down her face as she hurried ahead. Her left arm was starting to ache from carrying Bonnie who was clinging to her neck so tightly (Y/n) could barely catch a proper breath. And her heels were starting to dig into (Y/n)'s lower back, but she couldn't find the will to care. Her daughter needed to feel safe and (Y/n) needed to assure herself that none of her children had been snatched today.

She felt Blake leaning into her left side and Chris had one hand around the pram and the other was gripping her elbow as he tried to stay as close to her as possible.

"Chris-" (Y/n) took a deep breath and sighed when Chris let go of her once the court was within reach.

He let go of the pram and set of into a wobbling sprint, aiming for both dads who were cheering on the edge of the court, clearly having won a basket for their team.

Buck noticed him first. He happened to look to the left and a grin broke out on his face despite the way he was panting for air. He lowered his arms down and patted Eddie's shoulder before he jogged off the court.

"Hey, look who it is."

He smiled right until Chris barrelled into him. Once Buck felt the way Chris started to shake against him and burrowed his face into his abdomen, his smile faded. He could feel the unease radiating off his son and he just knew something wasn't right. He should have been cheering and goading his dads to win the game. Normally he would have been laughing and taunting them playfully.

He wouldn't have run right onto the court like this and hugged the life out of Buck unless something was wrong.

"Buddy, what's the matter?" When Chris held him tighter, Buck pressed his lips into a frown and carefully held him by the shoulders. He loosened Chris's grip on him so he could crouch down in front of him but as soon as they were level, Chris was clinging to him again.

His arms looped around Buck's neck and he burrowed his face into his neck until his glasses were digging uncomfortably into Buck's skin. Not that he minded at all. He curved his arm around Chris's waist and softly held the back of his neck.

It took all of his effort to hold his breath for five seconds to slow down his heart rate. He couldn't start panicking when he didn't even know what was wrong, but the protective nature within Buck was already rising to the surface.

"Talk to me, are you okay?"

Confusion plastered across Eddie's face as he held his hand out towards Chimney and shook his head, silently pausing the game. He tossed the ball into the middle of the court and heaved to regain his breath back while he walked towards his partner.

He rested a hand on Buck's shoulder and looked between the boys before he looked up and locked his eyes on his sister.

She was crying. (Y/n) had tears streaming down her face and Bonnie in her arms who was quietly sniffling and gasping. Blake was tucked against her side, looking down at the floor like he was too afraid to lift his head and look at any of them. The only one who seemed unaffected was little Billy in his pushchair.

"What happened?" Eddie reached his arm out towards (Y/n), but Blake moved forward and burrowed into his side instead.

"Stay with uncle Eddie, do not move I mean it." The panic was evident in (Y/n)'s broken voice.

She placed the pushchair a foot in front of the boys just on the edge of the court. Well within reach so Billy was safe and she gave her eldest a pointed look so he wouldn't leave the safety of his uncles. She couldn't have anything happening to the boys as well.

Her hand moved to cradle the back of Bonnie's head that she started to kiss and when Blake nodded, (Y/n) briskly walked over towards Tommy.

He was scratching the back of his neck, one hand on his hip as he tried to take deep breaths. But when his eyes scanned over his family, he didn't know what to do. Something was evidently wrong. They had been separated for less than an hour, what had gone wrong in that time frame?

"Honey, what's the matter?" Tommy reached out and curved his left arm around (Y/n)'s waist, reeling her into his chest while his right hand held her shoulder.

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his chin down into his chest to look down at her properly, but his breath caught in his throat when he realised she was shaking. He could see traces of tears streaked down her face and when his eyes locked on their daughter in (Y/n)'s arms, Tommy realised she was sobbing.

"Are you all okay, did something happen at the park?"

"A man tried to take Bonnie." (Y/n)'s voice shuddered and came out breathless as a shiver tore down her spine and seeped into Tommy's body.

His muscles went rigid and he tensed up in front of her, gripping her waist tighter as something dark crossed his eyes. His head tilted to one side and his eyes narrowed while his lips quirked as if he wanted to smile in utter confusion. Who would do that? Why would they do that? Why would someone choose Bonnie out of all the kids that could have been on that park?

"Take her? What does that mean, what'd he do? Who the Hell was he?"

"Chris said no, a-and they tried to walk away… babe, he grabbed her by her hair, look at her head. He almost tore her hair out to drag her with him."

As swiftly as anything, Tommy was crouching down in front of them. His hands moved to cup Bonnie's face and his thumbs gently brushed across her cheeks while he tilted her head in his direction. A sorrowful smile tugged at his lips when his daughter's watering eyes locked on him and a little mewl left her lips that made Tommy's heart shatter into pieces.

He took note of the scratches on her scalp, how her plaits were ruffled and loose and skewed. How some of her hair was in knots and the spots on her scalp that showed some strands had been roughly torn from her head.

"She trapped her hand in the gate too. I didn't know what to do, if he came back or if he sees her again, I-"

"No, no he won't see her again, it's okay. We're going home."

Shivers tore down (Y/n)'s spine when Tommy's hands moved back to her shoulders. He pulled them both close and pressed his lips to the top of her head and (Y/n) could feel each violent, ragged breath he took.

Tommy looked back down between them when he suddenly felt Bonnie's hand grabbing at his shoulder. Her nails scratched into his skin and she pawed at him, whimpering until he obliged and reached down to take her from (Y/n)'s arms.

"Daddy…" Tears spilled down her face and a quiet sob broke past her lips when she was in his arms.

Tommy leaned his cheek on top of Bonnie's head, holding her as close to his chest as he could manage while his hand ran up and down her back and he smothered his lips against her shoulder.

All the noises around them faded out into static and all Tommy could hear was Bonnie quietly whimpering his name over and over. He closed his eyes and tilted his chest back, letting her lean into him while he felt (Y/n)'s hand ghost up and down his back. None of the voices from the others on the court managed to get through the static in his ears. He couldn't hear them asking what was wrong or hear Eddie comforting Blake, telling him everything was okay.

The only thing he could hear was his daughter in distress and it made his blood boil over.

Why her? Why had someone decide to terrorise Tommy's little girl? Tommy's wife, his sons. His family. Why?

"Shh, alright, it's alright sweetheart. I've got you, your safe."

He kept her secured in his left arm so he could wrap his other arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reel her into his side. They slowly headed over to where Buck and Eddie were stood with the boys.

Buck was sat on the edge of the bench with one arm around Blake and his other hand on the pram, gently nudging it back and forth to try and send Billy off to sleep. And Eddie was next to him with Chris in his arms who had gone quiet after telling his dads what had happened.

Tommy's eyes locked with Buck when he spoke, venom and malice flooding his eyes. "Can you call Athena?"

They needed to make a statement. They needed the kids to describe who had done this so they could try and catch him. Tommy wouldn't let him get away with this.

***

Panic surged through Tommy's chest and his eyes snapped open, coursing through the darkness to try and find out what had woken him.

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs and his pulse flooded every inch of his skin while he gasped to catch his breath back. One of the few downsides to the job meant Tommy startled easily, especially when he was sleeping. After some of the things he had seen, nightmares were a constant and he was so used to listening out for sounds that he had become a very light sleeper.

His hands planted down into the mattress and he pushed to sit up, taking in the darkness surrounding him while he tried to look around.

He glanced to the right and looked across at (Y/n) as she stirred and reached out to curl her hand around his arm, unsure why they were both suddenly awake.

But then he heard it. Bonnie's cry that pierced his heart and sent his nerves sparking and igniting.

"Bonnie."

Tommy tossed the cover to one side and got to his feet before (Y/n) had the chance to sit up. He shook his head to try and wake himself up a bit more while his hands stretched out and grabbed the door, using it as leverage to push himself forward and move faster.

He turned left and opened Bonnie's bedroom door, squinting for a moment at the illuminescent rose pink nightlight that lit up one corner of the room. It was a dark pink flower attached to the wall above Bonnie's bed since she was so easily frightened by the dark.

"Baby, baby what's the matter?" He sped into the room and plonked down on the side of her bed, feeling his heart breaking when he looked down at her.

He couldn't see her. Bonnie was curled up in the centre of the bed with the blankets wrapped tightly around her from head to toe, covering her completely to the point she was going to suffocate.

Tommy tried to be gentle, murmuring a soft "It's only me, it's just daddy," while he pulled the covers back so he could see her and make sure she could actually breathe. A jagged edge cut through his heart when he looked down at her. Arms over her head, knees pressed into her stomach, her whole body shaking like she had hypothermia.

Wordlessly, he reached down and scooped her up so he could settle her down on his lap.

Her arms stayed bound around her chest while she burrowed her face into his chest. The shaking started to subside once Tommy curled his arms around her and leaned down to smother his lips against the top of her head.

"Bad dream?" He asked quietly, nuzzling his nose into her hair to tickle her while he started to sway back and forth, shifting his weight from his heels to his toes.

"I saw the bad man… my head hurts, daddy."

Tommy tilted his chin down into his neck and leaned back a little so he could cradle the side of Bonnie's face in his hand. His thumb brushed beneath her eye, swiping away a tear while he studied the scratches over her temple. Her scalp had started to bruise beneath her hairline but luckily it wasn't properly visible.

He wasn't so sure it hurt her now though unless she was touching it. Tommy found it more likely that she was dreaming and remembering the panic and the pain from four days ago. She was reliving it more than she was actually in any pain.

"I know baby, but you're okay now. You're safe, I won't let the bad man hurt you, I promise." He peppered her temple with kisses to show her that she was okay and to kiss away the pain to calm her down.

With one arm around her back, Tommy used the other to shuffle into the centre of the bed he prayed would take his weight. He laid down until his ankles and feet were hanging off the end of the bed and Bonnie's weight was comfortingly weighing down on his chest. Her head tucked beneath his chin and she looped her arms over his broad chest, feeling his hand smooth up and down her back while he dragged a blanket across them both.

"See? No one's gonna hurt you because I'm here with you."

A repetition of 'you're okay' and 'I'm not going anywhere' passed Tommy's lips on a loop while he smoothed his hand up and down her back to lull her back to sleep.

It took a while, but after about twenty minutes, Tommy felt Bonnie's snuffling breaths start to even out and her hands stopped gripping his shoulders, finally. She went limp on his chest and snuggled down into him, relaxing while he continued to rub her back.

Every time Tommy shifted, even if it was just his hip moving, the bed creaked and groaned and he could feel his back starting to ache, but he didn't care. If it calmed his daughter down and made her feel safe, then it was worth it.

But anger started to swell through his chest and set in his stomach like stones weighing him down. His daughter shouldn't be waking up during the night, frightened that someone was going to come back and hurt her. She shouldn't be frightened to the point that she wasn't allowing either (Y/n) or Tommy out of her sight.

She hadn't been back to school this week and Tommy dreaded to think how they were going to get her back when she was too frightened to be alone without one of her parents by her side.

The five year old didn't want to leave the house and that infuriated Tommy to no end. She was petrified all because someone thought he had the right to try and snatch her and scare her like this.

Moving his hands, Tommy cradled the back of her head and pressed his other palm down on her lower back so he could twist to the right.

He tried to carefully ease Bonnie down onto the bed and trade places with her so he could get up off the bed.

It looked to be working, right until Tommy let his hands slip from her frame and he stood up from the bed. Once he was no longer holding her, Bonnie started to shake. Her knees coiled up, her eyes started to flutter and whimpers bubbled past her lips until she was sobbing again.

"No, daddy d-don't go!"

All she had to do was stretch her arms out and make grabbing fists in his direction and Tommy was a goner. He crouched down beside the bed, all resolve fading away and his heart aching with a sense of longing and protection he had never felt before.

"Okay, okay baby I'm not leaving you, I promise." He swaddled the blanket around her and scooped her up from the bed, cradling her back into his chest again. His fingers were woven into her hair and his lips pressed to her temple while he stood up and turned around.

"Where we going?"

"You can come sleep with me and mummy. You'll be safe, now let's go get some sleep." If she needed Tommy to stay with her that was absolutely fine, but he wanted to be back in his own bed. Where he could stretch out and be back with (Y/n) and where the three of them could get some sleep without Tommy fretting one wrong turn would break the bed or have him falling onto the floor.

But for the past two nights, Bonnie had crept into their bed anyway after a bad dream and woken up with them in the morning. She wasn't sleeping properly, she didn't want to leave the house and she was too afraid to even sit in her room on her own.

Tommy didn't know how else to show her that she was safe and protected, that they weren't going to let anything happen to her.

He needed to show Bonnie that he was going to protect her at all costs.

[nburkhardt]

cw: description of an injury, blood

The sound of bones rolling together can be the loudest sound. The sting of pain bolts through him and all Steve can do is hiss in pain.

“You dumbass” he hisses to himself as he debates how to get back up. Looking around, he notices Eddie walking towards him.

“Stevie, what happened?” Eddie shouts over, quickly jogging over, “why are you on the ground- wait- dumb question, are you okay?”

He huffs a little, hanging his head. Still in the same stupid position. One knee on the ground, the other bent awkwardly. His throbbing hand somehow still pressing into the gravel. “I fell, Eds.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first, just bends down and tips Steve’s head up. “Come on,” he says softly as he reaches and helps him up. Steve going with him easily before slumping against him, “what hurts, Love?”

“My ankle and knee.” He mumbles against eddie’s shoulder, “my hand”

They stand there for a second, Eddie just holding Steve against him, rubbing his hands up and down Steve’s back. Slowly they walk back to the trailer, Eddie supporting Steve along the way.

Once inside, Eddie helps Steve down on the couch before quickly grabbing the first ad kit. Steve hisses as his knee shifts, “I think I need to take my pants off.”

They blink at each other, after another blink, they’re a mess of giggles.

“Nows not the time for that, sweet thing, buttttt yeah. You’re definitely bleeding” Eddie frowns at the obvious dark stain, “how the hell did you fall anyway?”

“Please don’t laugh”

Eddie rolls his eyes, patting his leg and helping Steve pull the jeans down just below his knees, “Ouch”

Hissing, Steve stares at his bleeding knee and cringing at the very obvious bad strawberry. He winces as he shifts his hand around, “I was just walking Eddie and next thing- my ankle rolled and I landed hard on my knee and hand.”

They manage to get his knee cleaned and bandaged, Steve groaned as he lifted his foot on up on the couch. Eddie patted his leg, “You rest here, I’ll grab you some ice. Don’t think you’ll be doing anything for a bit”

Groaning, Steve nodded and rested his head against the couch. Watching as Eddie walks back towards the kitchen.

“Don’t you worry, Stevie baby, I’ll nurse ya back to health”

Based on turn events… as in I was WALKING TO GRAB A RUNAWAY BASKETBALL and did not see a rock because I was on the street. I immediately crumbled, landed land on my right knee and hand. Rolled the left ankle. So quick recap: my left ankle, right knee and right hand/wrist are all hurt.

The only thing that didn’t actually happen was I don’t have an Eddie in my life. It was my 7yr old niece that walked over and immediately asked me if I was okay 🥺

Permanent taglist: @spectrum-spectre @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @bookworm0690 @strangersteddierthings @strawberryyyenthusiast @lumoschildextra

[loveshotzz]

Wednesday @ 4pm central

🌆 <- chapter nine

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

Because it’s chapter ten, here’s a snippet for you under the cut. Thank you for everything guys, I love you ♥️

The full trash bag next to your front door taunts you, just like the promise you made Steve about taking it out late at night months ago. The fact that it’s the last thing left to do makes it that much harder to walk away from. Gnawing at the side of your cheek you decide not to, he’s not even home to catch you.

The moon’s blue glow illuminates your path while the skyline of the city sparkles below it. The tall buildings shimmer in a way that takes attention from the stars in the cloudless night sky and you can feel how the humidity hangs less thick in the air the more August rolls in. The thin material of your tank top does nothing against the light breeze that makes the bottom of your sleep shorts tickle the tops of your thighs. There’s a chill that didn’t exist before and it makes goosebumps dot across your skin.

Your slides scrape along the gravel from your refusal to fully pick your feet up, and it fights with the sounds of the late Friday night in the distance. You hum a made up tune as the streetlight buzzes above, lifting the lid you jump when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.” Steve’s voice erupts everything that’s laid dormant inside you for the past week. Butterflies start to flutter until they’re fighting against your rib cage to get out and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling before you’ve even turned around.

“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.” Shrugging when you finally let yourself look at him, the view rivals the one that shines bright behind him.

His hair is messy in a way that isn’t purposeful this time, but he looks just as handsome as any other day. The stubble on his jaw is thicker, but not quite like the night he waited at door steps, and god, did you want to feel it against your skin. His big arms sit crossed over a broad chest that’s only covered in a gray tank top. The thick patch of hair always half way on display threatens to touch the base of his neck, the bottom of his silver chain disappears inside it.

His freckles are darker now, easier to find from all the sun he got while he was gone and you’re jealous of the hands that got to rub sunscreen on them, even if they were his own. The black basketball shorts on his legs stop in the middle of his thighs, and it makes you bite at your lip.The greens and golds in his eyes light a match under your skin with the way he stares at you like he couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried.

“My out of state boyfriend huh?” He grins, tightening his hold on his own bag before his Nike slide covered feet crunch against the gravel towards you. His eyes catch the dainty silver still hanging around your neck, the stone shining in the moonlight and it makes his heart swell. Tossing his trash in after yours, he meets your gaze down from the slope of his nose, arching a brow. “What does that make you then?”

He smells like bergamot and cedar, and a lingering hint of a cigar he probably smoked in New York that still clings to his hair. The heat coming off his body makes your fingertips buzz, twitching with the need to reach out and just touch him.

“I dunno, what does that make me Steve?” It comes out shy, a little above a whisper, a question just for him.

[crappymixtape]

come back to me • part one

PART TWO HERE // after steve gets his heart broken by nancy, tommy dares him to try something different as a rebound, someone who isn’t his type at all, and at first he’s doing it to prove a point, but when the upside down gets involved he realizes just how he really feels • 18+ | ( 5.4k – violence / upside down, lots of angst, some fluff, enemies to lovers-ish, steve x reader, king!steve x reader ) REQUEST @carinacassiopeiae → king!steve, reformed!king steve x reader

C O M E B A C K T O M E 🎶 man on the moon - delacey

“C’mon man, I’m sick of your ass moping around. She’s with Byers now and there are plenty of other bitches in the sea.”

Tommy leaned against the cold brick of the gym, wind whipping through the little alley created by the gap in the buildings, a cigarette wedged between his lips. Taking a drag he blew the smoke off over his shoulder and shook his head.

“Listen, you just need a rebound. Right? Get the bad taste outta your mouth–”

“Watch it,” Steve snapped, kicking the toe of his sneaker into the gravel and Tommy just snickered.

“So fucking sensitive,” Tommy pouted at Steve, all of it so condescending and Steve shot the other boy a glare through the long sweep of his lashes, hands curling into fists at his sides.

“Whatever, can you just get to the point? Out here in the freezing ass cold instead of eating, m’hungry as hell.”

“Awh. Poor, Stevie."

"Shut up."

"Alright, I got a proposition for you. Little game, huh?” Tommy lifted his brows, tongue flicking out to run across his lips. “A dare, think you’re up for it?” He took another drag of his cigarette before offering it over to Steve who took it begrudgingly if only for a little warmth.

“I’m not a pussy,” Steve snarked and Tommy laughed. Putting the cigarette to his lips, Steve took a pull and held the smoke in lungs for a minute just to feel it burn before blowing it into Tommy’s face.

“No one said you were, Harrington,” he reached out to grab the snub of what was left pinched between Steve’s fingers and threw it the ground, grinding it out with his heel. Sucking on his teeth, the smile on Tommy’s face pulled into a wicked grin and Steve’s stomach turned. “I dare you to get a freak to catch feelings for you,” his tone was smooth like silk, but sharp as glass underneath and Steve huffed a laugh.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious, Harrington! Unless you think you’re losing your grip on shit, King Steve,” Tommy sneered and leaned forward to shove Steve’s shoulder, goading him, pushing him.

“Christ, Tommy. I can fuckin' do it,” Steve pushed him back, a scowl twisting across his lips, readjusting his coat.

“Atta boy! Let’s see…” Tommy walked to the edge of the alley, peeking out at the tables scattered across the quad, searching for a target.

Loosing a sigh, Steve ran his hands through his hair while he waited for Tommy. He knew it was over with Nancy, but it didn’t make it hurt any less and he could hear her in his head every time he closed his eyes.

No you! You’re bullshit!

And he knew she was right. He was bullshit. King Steve, popularity, the basketball team, it was all bullshit and it was slipping between his fingers like sand.

After everything that had happened in Jonathan’s living room, the monsters, Barb, whatever the hell this Upside Down was, Steve began to see that Nancy was right and this was the last thing he wanted. He projected bravado, confidence, control, but under it all he was anxious and unhappy. Sad.

“Ah hah! Yes, look at this shit,” Tommy turned back to Steve and grabbed his arm, pulling him to the opening between the buildings, “Right there.”

Shrugging out of Tommy’s grip, Steve followed the line of Tommy’s finger to see who was sitting on the other end of it – you.

It was cold as you tucked your jacket into you a little closer, a breeze moved through the quad, your scarf wrapped cozy around your neck and knit hat working overtime to keep your curls contained. You probably should’ve been like everyone else, staying in the cafeteria to eat, but all the stupid popular kids were in there and all they liked to do was cat call and be fucking assholes. So. You were out in the cold, eating your sandwich and writing a few lines down in your notebook, planning on putting them to music once you were home.

Your best friend Robin was in the gym, practicing with the rest of the band for the homecoming game on Friday and Eddie was where ever the hell he’d skipped class for leaving you to eat alone. Which was fine honestly, but it made the feeling of someone looking at you even more obvious. Glancing over your shoulder you didn’t see anyone right away, but the crunch of gravel to your left pulled your gaze and you caught two figures between the buildings.

“Shit,” Steve hissed, ducking back behind the brick as Tommy piled after him in a fit of laughter.

“Fuck yeah, it’s perfect, that’s the one,” Tommy snickered, shoving Steve into the side of the building and punching his shoulder, “If you can’t close the deal by homecoming you owe me twenty bucks and a six-pack.”

“Man, screw you,” Steve dug his shoulder into Tommy, dragging another peel of laughter from the freckle-faced boy. His lips were still pulled taut in a scowl, but he stuck a hand out anyway, “Deal.”

“You’re damn right it is,” and the grin that snaked across Tommy’s face then made Steve regret everything he’d just agreed to, but hell maybe this was his ticket back to normal and maybe he wasn’t bullshit.

Kicking your locker shut with the toe of your shoe, you crouched down to cram your history book in with your binder and all the other shit that had somehow managed to pile up in your bag. Walkman, a few caseless cassettes, pens, pencils, guitar picks, and a crushed up granola bar that probably needed to just get thrown away, but you were going to be late to Click’s class if you didn’t hurry the hell up.

Yanking the zipper closed you stood to take off down the hallway, but ran smack into something, someone, solid.

“Fuck,” you sucked in a sharp gasp, hands flying up to grab hold of something to steady yourself, only to find that thing was Steve Harrington’s sweater.

“Shit, princess. Y’okay?” the wide expanse of his hand had grabbed hold at your waist, steady and firm. When you glanced up at him your stomach flipped over uncomfortably, his eyes all honeyed, hazy and warm like caramel. God, you hated how pretty he was.

“Princess?” your brows tugged together in annoyance as you swallowed thickly. Irritation flickering in your chest, frustrated at the way you fumbled under his gaze and how it made you feel, but then he was giving you a smug grin. King Steve. And your snark leapt back to life. “What’s your obsession with monarchy?” your tone was sharp, full of wit, much faster than he was and you watched as his lips parted, grin flickering with surprise.

“Someone’s gotta keep shit in order around here,” he leaned casually against the lockers then, all full of bravado and blocking your path down the hallway and the eye roll you gave him would’ve knocked anyone else on their ass. “Make a habit of running people over or…?” he quirked a brow at you, playful. Was he flirting? And you felt your lips firm into a line.

“You know, the fact that you have a watch and don’t use it is ridiculous. We’re about to be late, genius,” you shouldered past him and when he realized his usual act hadn’t hooked you, he turned on his heel to catch up, Tommy’s bet taunting him at the back of his mind.

“Wait, late for what?” even with your back to him you could hear Steve was flustered and a grin of your own tugged up at the corners of your lips.

“The test? Revolutionary War?” you threw your words over your shoulder, not bothering to slow down and wait for him, and it was only when his hand snagged yours that you stopped.

“There’s a test today?” his eyes were a bit wild and you wanted to make fun of him, tease him a little, but the feeling of his fingers squeezing yours made your heart flutter in your chest. Felt like a hummingbird trapped in a cage, frantically looking for escape.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, quickly pulling your hand from his to readjust your backpack, “What’s the problem?”

Steve hesitated, his tongue flicking out to run across his lips, trying to be quick on his feet, but failing. “Nothing, just–” he jammed his hands into his pockets and took a few steps backwards, “–just tell Click I went home. Not feeling good.”

“Are you serious? You were just–”

“Please? I’ll make it up to you. Meet me at the diner after school,” and he didn’t even give you the chance to ask him what the hell that meant or where he was going. He just turned and jogged to the double door exit back by your locker and out into the quad.

Meet him at the diner? As if ‘King Steve’ talking to you of all people wasn’t weird enough, now he didn’t care if people saw him with you in public? Looping your thumbs under the straps of your bag you shook your head and hurried down the hallway and into class.

“What’ll it be hon?” the waitress at the diner flipped her notepad open, cat-eye glasses sliding down her nose as she gave you a small smile.

“Uhm,” you came here often enough with Robin and Eddie to know the menu like the back of your hand, but you couldn’t stop watching the door for Steve and now her question had your heart racing, hands clammy, nervous. Pulling your eyes from the door you looked up at her, fingers twisted together in your lap, “Just fries please. And a chocolate shake?”

“Sure thing,” she didn’t bother writing anything down and hesitated a moment longer, watching as you looked back at the door again, “Will anyone be joining you?”

Will anyone be joining you?

Your stomach lurched and you willed yourself to get your shit together. “Yeah. Yeah he’ll be here soon–” the clock on the wall read 4:01 and you bit your lower lip between your teeth, “–I think.”

She gave you another smile and tapped the table with her long, plastic nails, “Alright, sweetie. That’s okay. He can order whenever he gets here.”

If he gets here.

You shook your head, grumbling under your breath about what kind of idiot would believe Steve fucking Harrington would actually show up to hang out with you after school. Turning to dig in your bag you scrounged up a few wadded up dollar bills to pay for what you’d ordered.

You weren’t going to wait, weren’t going to be made a fool by some asshole jock, but just as your hand went slap the money on the table your eyes caught a pair of familiar dirty Blazers standing on the checkered tile floor next to you.

“Shit. Hey, sorry. I had…I had to help somebody really quick,” Steve fumbled over his words and when you dragged your eyes up to look at him his expression matched his tone. Scattered. Hair wild and sticking up at the sides. He roughed a hand over his face and took a quick glance out the window.

You followed his gaze and saw a familiar looking curly haired boy take off on a bike down the street, a giant ass walkie talkie sticking out of his backpack.

“Help somebody?” you turned back to look up expectantly at Steve and he jammed his tongue into his cheek, thinking.

“Yea–oh. Did you already eat?” his eyes flicked down to the cash in your hand and you felt your cheeks grow hot.

Burying your face into your bag to try and hide your embarrassment, you shoved the money back into the front pocket trying to think of an excuse, but when he finally sat down you felt your nerves shift to frustration.

“No. I didn’t. But honestly? I didn’t think you were gonna show up,” you turned back to look at him, not shying away at all, chin tilted up in defense of yourself and his expression wilted. Made you almost feel bad, but you stuck to your guns. “What d’you want from me anyway, Harrington? I’m not exactly cheerleader material and I’m definitely not Nancy Wheeler.”

His face looked like you’d punched him and guilt squeezed your chest tight. This wasn’t the King Steve you’d seen at parties or around the hallways. The one who would shotgun a beer. The one who’d pick up girls in the hallway and spin them around in fits of giggles. The Steve who made fun of your friends and threw food at the ‘freaks’ in the cafeteria. This was someone different and when he dropped his gaze to the table in almost-shame you suddenly felt like the asshole.

“I dunno, maybe this was a bad idea,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he shoved himself back out of the booth and then it was your turn to ask him to wait.

“C’mon, you’re here for something,” your tone landed somewhere between taunting and pleading, but it was enough to make him stop for a second, long enough that the waitress came back and he awkwardly plopped back down onto the red plastic bench.

“Anything for you, hon?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Can I just–” Steve grabbed a menu and turned it over twice, not actually reading it, frazzled and caught off-guard, “–just a milkshake. Strawberry. Thanks.”

“Sure thing, same tab?”

Your eyes flicked up to look at Steve. It was only the same tab if you were on a date, right?

“No,” you snapped.

“Yes,” Steve was louder and the waitress gave you both a look before she walked away and you turned to glare at the boy sitting across from you.

“Spill,” you said, lips twisted into a scowl, obvious you weren’t fucking around.

He shifted nervously in his seat, hand moving to rub at the back of his neck until he finally pulled his eyes up from the table to look at you. “You’re, like, top of the class,” he stuttered, “Best grades in Click’s.”

“And?”

“And–” he drug the word out, working through things and you almost cut him off but he recovered, “–and I need help. Studying.”

“You. Steve Harrington. Need help studying. From me?”

He knew it was a shitty line, but now that it was out he leaned into it. Hard. “Yeah. Yeah, I can’t ask any of my friends, they’re worse than I am and Nancy–” he paused, realizing what he was about to say, and tossed his gaze off over toward the kitchen just to avoid the look you gave him.

Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. His ex-girlfriend. The one who always helped him study and probably the only reason he was passing some of his classes, but you knew that had been a messy break up. Something about her going home with Jonathan Byers after a Halloween party and now she was with him and not Steve. A lot of the kids in your grade heard she cheated, Tommy Hagan had started that one, but Steve was quick to shut it down. Insistent that the breakup had been mutual. Being a decent human being for once.

A small sigh pushed its way through your lips as you looked at him, King Steve still no where to be found and for whatever reason you believed him.

“Fine,” you mumbled, picking at the chipped nail polish on your fingers and that pulled his eyes back to you.

“Really?”

“Keep your pants on,” you snarked, but he was smiling at you and dammit you couldn’t help the smile creeping across you own lips and you looked down at your lap to hide it.

“Thought you were gonna shut me down there for a minute, princess,” he said, confidence back in full swing as he leaned back against the booth and you just couldn’t have that.

“Still could,” wiped the grin off his face and you laughed. “Kidding. God, you guys dish it, but you really can’t take it, can you.”

He shook his head, smile coming back hesitantly, but he was looking at you. Really looking at you and it made your stomach flip again and your cheeks grew warm. No one looked at you like that, especially not anyone like him, and thank god the waitress came back with your food because you thought you might very well float away.

“Fries and a couple of shakes, loves,” the waitress placed your things on the table with another little knowing smile before leaving the two of you alone.

It was quiet for a while as you both sipped your milkshakes, fingers dipping into whipped cream and picking at the cherries on top. You were the first one to make any kind of movement toward the other, pushing your tray of fries toward him in a silent invitation and he took it with a little smile. A quiet thank you and it was enough to push him back to bold.

“So, maybe I’ll come by your place tomorrow? Like, six or something?” he dipped a fry in ketchup and shoved the whole thing in his mouth before taking another drink of his shake.

“Six? Isn’t that kind of–”

“Late?” he finished, brows lifted in question, and then he shook his head, “Nah. I mean. Not for me. D’you go to bed at seven or what?” You fixed him with a look and he put his hands up in surrender.

“I don’t go to bed at seven, I just–” you paused, cheeks warming again, realizing you were about to share something actually personal about yourself and you cleared your throat to try again. “I usually play for a couple of hours around seven,” you mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t hear well enough to ask, but of course he did.

“Play? Like drama club or something?” the look on his face was utterly clueless and you sighed. Did you have to spell it out?

“No. My guitar,” you muttered, shoving a couple of fries into your mouth and you could feel him looking at you.

“Oh, shit. That’s cool,” you could hear the smile on his face and when you looked up you wanted to believe it. The genuine interest on his face. The impressed clip of his voice and you couldn’t help your own small smile.

“Yeah. It’s whatever. I’m not gonna drop out or anything.”

That pulled a laugh from him. You were funny. “Please don’t, I’d definitely fail Click’s class,” he leaned forward on the table, relaxed for once, and you felt yourself give in a tiny bit. Steve Harrington. Known for his charm, for being smooth, but this was different. Nice. Real?

“No promises, Harrington,” you teased and you felt him kick into the toe of your shoe with his under the table and your heart raced.

“He what?” Robin’s face was contorted with absolute confusion as she sat across from you on your bed, listening to you talk about what had happened with Steve.

“He asked for help studying. It doesn’t make any sense. We haven’t talked since that stupid group science project at the beginning of the year,” you were trying to maintain your focus, swiping slow, even coats of black polish across Robin’s nails.

“I dunno, no offense, but–”

“Oh, none taken,” you cut your friend off, shaking your head and she clicked her tongue in thought.

“–but there’s gotta be an ulterior motive here. Right? I mean. Steve Harrington? He’s hot for fucking Tammy Thompson. Nancy Wheeler was a curveball I’ll admit, but this is supicious. He’s up to something.”

“What would it even be though, Robs? Like, what’s the point of all this? Maybe he really does need help studying,” you finished painting her pinky nail and blew on it lightly.

“No. No way. I dunno what it is, but I don’t trust it,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced off out your window across the street at the Harrington’s house.

“Yeah. Me either, I guess,” you agreed quietly, following Robin’s gaze. There was a light on in Steve’s room, curtain open like it always was and as Robin got up to fling her hands around in an attempt to dry them you couldn’t help yourself.

Standing from your bed you went and curled up on your window seat, straining your eyes to try and see something, anything in his room. You’d lived across the street from the boy for years and yet you didn’t know a thing about him other than he was popular, good at basketball, and liked yelling at his dad.

He’d been assigned to your science project group together at the beginning of the school year, but hadn’t been much help at all. Spent most of his time scribbling notes to Nancy or whispering shit to Tommy. Something about a party at Steve’s house and Barb Holland? It was beyond annoying and had it not been for you staying up til midnight the night before it was due you all probably would’ve gotten Fs.

He was just like all the other popular assholes. There because they had to be, skating along on priviledge, mommy and daddy paying for everything. Throwing parties like they were already in college and not bothering to get their grades up because they’d get into whatever school they wanted anyway.

Steve’s friends had been among the worst of them, teasing and mocking people like you. People they deemed ‘freaks’ and easy targets and Steve never stepped in. Tommy Hagan was especially shitty, but you thought he’d decided to leave you alone after what had happened a couple months ago.

“Oops,” he’d said, tone dripping with sarcasm as he flipped your books out of your hands and onto the floor. A red-headed girl named Carol snickered at his side. “Sorry, didn’t see you there, freak,” he dissolved into laughter just like his girlfriend had and you snapped.

“That’s funny to you?” you got in his face, not shying away from the shark-like grin on his lips, toe-to-toe with him and your books still on the floor.

“Nothin’ funny about it. Right, Carol?” he drawled, grin twisting with something a little meaner as Carol smirked at you over his shoulder.

“Nuh huh, just a lil accident,” she’d purred and you’d had it.

“Well why you don’t take your stupid accidents somewhere else, hm?” and you flicked your hand under his things, scattering loose papers and notes and folders all over the ground.

The look he’d given you then made your stomach lurch, made you feel like maybe you fucked up, like you’d gone too far, but then the bell rang overhead and he had to let it go.

Sneering at you, Carol gathered up all of Tommy’s stuff and pulled on his arm when she finished. “C’mon, Tommy. Leave it,” she urged, shooting you a glare.

“Bye-bye,” you snarked and all Tommy could do was flip you off as Carol yanked him down the hallway toward class. No one had really challenged him before, especially someone like you, and you thought he’d stopped for good, but little did you know.

He’d zeroed in on you for the bet.

Glancing down at the Harrington’s driveway you saw Steve’s car was missing, but as if on cue you heard the BMW coming up the street. Pulling your sheer curtain across your open window you hid behind it, watching as Steve threw the car into park and kicked his door open. He was saying something, but Madonna was playing too loudly on your stereo.

“Robs, turn that down,” you hissed and she did as you asked, giving you a weird look.

“What are you do–”

“Shh!” you put up a hand, holding your breath, ears straining to hear.

“Christ. Little shithead. In the fucking cellar? God. It could be anywhere.”

Your brow furrowed, a deep crease between them as you listened. What the hell was he talking about? But then he popped the trunk and pulled out a bat covered in nails and your stomach flipped over. Why would he need that?

He looked over his shoulder and slammed the trunk shut, running up the front walk and taking his stairs by two before slipping in the front door and locking it behind him.

“What?” Robin was pressing into you now, shoving you aside to try and look out the window. You tried to push her away, but the door to Steve’s room opened across the street and you slapped a hand over her mouth.

He threw the bat under his bed, frantically running his hands through his hair, pacing the length of his room. He looked scared. Worried. Definitely anxious and then he stopped at the side of his bed, plopping down on the edge of it and buried his face in his hands.

“Oh my god, will you please just tell me what the hell is–”

“Robs, please. Just wait,” you whispered harshly, your hands pressed together in mock prayer and she groaned, closing her eyes but staying quiet.

Ring, ring, ring.

You heard the trill of the phone on Steve’s nightstand and he clumsily scrambled across his bed to answer it.

“Henderson? Yeah did you tell them about how your ‘little lizard friend’ dug a huge ass tunnel through your cellar? Oh, don’t even start–no! No, no, no. I’m not doing that. Absolutely not. What d’you mean they can’t–listen here, I’ve seen what these things can do. I’m not messing with that shit anymore man.”

“Are you hearing this?” you hissed at Robin and she just looked at you wide-eyed, Steve’s voice pulling you both back to look across the street.

“I really don’t think–what d’you mean bait it? Well…I guess that could work. Tomorrow? No. No, I have a…a thing. No I’m not telling you what it is. Fine! Fine. But I better be done by seven, you hear me? No later than seven. Yeah, whatever. Bye.”

Steve hung the phone up just as you and Robin were leaning through the curtain to hear better. He stood from the bed and looked up through his window and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to not yelp as you shoved both you and Robin off the bench to the floor.

“Shit, d’you think he saw us?” you asked, heart pounding in your chest.

“Oh, he definitely saw us,” Robin scowled at you and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Great. You had a feeling your study session was going to be real special tomorrow.

The next day at school went by without incident, but you didn’t see Steve and Tommy and Carol kept giving you weird looks. Like they knew something you didn’t and it probably should’ve bothered you more, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d heard the night before.

Robin had left your house, basically making you promise to call her after you got done studying with Steve to tell her what you found out.

If you found out anything.

But as the last bell rang and you still didn’t see any sign of Steve you wondered if he wasn’t going to show up. The little voice inside your head told you he was just like everyone else, told you to not be disappointed when he stood you up, but the knock on your front door soon after you got home proved it wrong.

“Where were you today?” fell out of your mouth abruptly and Steve’s brows quirked up, caught off guard, but quick enough to answer.

“Uh, family stuff,” he mumbled. You didn’t believe him, but the look on his face made you stop short of pushing him and you stepped aside to let him in.

“Hope everything’s okay,” you closed your front door, watching as Steve stood in your entry way looking at pictures of you and your sister from when you were little.

“Yeah. Yeah, good for now I guess,” he poked a finger at a photo on the wall, a small smile tugging up at the corners of his lips, “Is this you?”

Your cheeks flushed pink, of course he’d find the one of you running around naked in just your Christmas slippers. You were a little over a year old, but still. A butt’s a butt.

“Sure is,” you grumbled, shoving past him into the kitchen and he followed suit, chuckling under his breath.

“Cute.”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Thanks,” you said softly, opening the fridge and grabbing two cans of Cherry Coke. You offered one to him wordlessly and he took it with a small nod of thanks, trailing behind you as you sat at the kitchen table.

Steve cracked his can open with a soft hiss, tossing his backpack on the floor, and leaned back comfortably in his chair. “Your parents not around?”

“Mom’s a nurse, she’s on swing shift. Dad’s working late and my sister’s on dance team, so she’s at practice,” your finger flicked at the tab on your soda can, eyes glancing up to meet his across the table, “Don’t get any ideas.”

And then it was Steve’s turn to blush and you couldn’t help but smile. You could play his game.

“I–I didn’t have any ideas, I just–”

“Harrington, I’m teasing you.”

He laughed, a little nervous, a little intrigued, and gave you a lopsided grin. “I don’t know what I expected when I asked you for help but…” he drifted off, trying to find the right words and your nose scrunched up in a tiny grimace.

“That bad?” you asked and he laughed, a real laugh, and shook his head.

“No! No, not bad. Nothing bad,” he reassured you and your expression softened into something a little warmer and he noticed because his softened too, “I just–I guess I like hanging out with you is all.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ground yourself in the moment, trying to remember why Steve was here and the fact that until yesterday you didn’t exist for him. “Should make studying easier,” you teased and he grinned again.

“Oh yeah, s’that why I’m here?”

“Yeah, it is. Get your book out, genius,” you finally cracked open your can of soda and took a drink, trying to hide your smile behind it.

You couldn’t deny it, the last twenty-four hours with him had been strange, unexpected, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. There were the obvious things. His eyes all warm honey and amber, the long sweep of his lashes as they fanned out across his cheeks, the way his jaw tensed when was focusing. He was pretty. But then there were the not so obvious things. The way he got flustered and how cute it was, that damn lopsided grin, the way it felt when he looked at you and listened.

Steve Harrington was…nice?

Digging around in his bag Steve grabbed his book and you took out your stack of notecards you’d made a week earlier.

“When’s your make up test?” you asked, thumbing through the stack of little cards in your hands.

“Friday morning,” Steve glanced up at you and smirked, “Could you just give me your graded test?”

“No way! That’s cheating,” you chided and he threw his hands up with a laugh.

“Just an idea!”

“I told you no ideas,” you teased gently, hating how he made you smile so damn much your cheeks hurt from the effort.

“Sorry, forgot,” he lied and you shook your head at him, shuffling your notecards and placing them facedown on the table.

“Alright, c’mon. Study now so I can play at seven,” you reminded him.

“Can I stay?” came out too quick and Steve’s cheeks flushed again, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed his words, “I mean, only if it’s okay with you.”

You watched him then for a moment trying hard to read him, this new version of Steve you didn’t know, but liked. Trying to decipher if he was being serious or not and you felt your pulse fluttering against your neck at the way he looked at you. Genuine. Soft. Kind, even.

Clearing your throat you finally pulled your gaze away from his and flipped the first notecard over: Who led the Crossing of the Delaware? You could still feel him looking at you and when you glanced back up at him he gave you a small, boyish smile.

Dammit.

“Uh, sure. Yeah. I guess, but I don’t wanna hear from the peanut gallery,” you murmured, not shying away as you kept your eyes on his.

“Not a word,” he crossed his finger over his heart and reached a hand over to take a few notecards from the pile, “Promise.”

“I’ll kick your ass out,” you teased and his smile grew.

“I believe it.”

A small laugh fell from your lips and you shook your head, trying to focus, trying to remember why the hell Steve Harrington was in your kitchen and finally held the notecard up with your hand covering the answer.

“Okay, Harrington. Let’s go. Who led the Crossing of the Delaware?”

“Ah, shit. I know this. Uh…” Steve snapped his fingers, leaning back in his chair before making a small noise of realization, “Oh! Benjamin Franklin!”

The look on your face said all you needed it to and Steve got the message as his face turned bright red.

“Fuck. Not Ben Franklin…”

“No. George Washington.”

This was going to be a while.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[jaidens]

don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at that idiotic fool that you made me

reader and dean maybe something angsty? i just keep thinking about dean and illicit affairs. reader is in love with him, but he doesn’t know and jokingly calls her baby and kid

illicit affairs — taylor swift

pairing [s] : dean winchester x younger!reader

SUMMARY : in which, dean winchester, only sees you as the younger hunting friend.

warning [s] : mentions of : crying, angst w/o comfort, & unrequited love. cursing x1

a/n [s] : ty for the request!!

Dean Winchester flips open the back of the 1967 Impala, rightfully known as ‘Baby’, and pulls out the supplies needed to hunt the werewolves that were terrorizing the small town. “Take this to Sammy, kid.” Dean instructs, piling the items in your arms and waving you off. You sulk as you drag your feet to take it to Sam as he researches more information on his laptop.

The Winchesters and your family had been hunting since the beginning of time. You and Sam grew up together, and you admired his elder brother. Whether that was watching him play basketball in a baggy sleeveless t-shirt and his muscles exposing in highschool. You were four years younger as well. When he was in senior year, you were just beginning your freshman year.

Shamefully, you loved him. Sam was like your brother and best friend, but Dean was different. He cared for you differently. He was more strict, but inherently you hadn't been angry about him. You couldn't tell him about your feelings; they were shoved deep down in your stomach and head. It was important in your field of work that mental health wasn't the orientation, physical health was much more dominant.

“Hey baby! C’mere.” Dean calls out to you. You turn around and walk over to him. “I want you to stay back at the motel. Get some trashy food and sleep. It's dangerous.” You frown and open your mouth to protest his directions, but he's turned away and back to make sure Baby has everything she needs for the ride down. You grumble and walk away, kicking a piece of gravel away from your shoe.

Another thing about Dean Winchester that laid heavy on you was his appreciation of nicknames. How he called Sam, Sammy. Or his beloved Impala, Baby. You were primarily known as “kid” or, his favorite, “baby”. They made you smile when you heard them, on the contrary the idea of it not having a romantic aspect that wasn't shown, hurt. You loved Dean and his antics, however they sometimes made you wanna scream in his face about how you weren't a kid, nor a baby.

Begrudgingly, you walk into the small motel room, and jump onto his couch that has more stains than a tablecloth. You turn on the TV and let it play some random movie after doom scrolling the channel list. Whenever Sam and Dean went on hunts, an unwanted feeling of worry lay in your stomach. You want to chase after them, and protect them in any way you can. They were the only family you had; after your parents had disappeared one day after going for a hunt in a foreign country.

After three hours, you began to worry even more. Usually, if the hunt was easy, it took less than two hours. You pick up your phone and type the numbers of Dean’s number in. It rings throughout the forty-five seconds, before the voicemail box begins.

‘This is the voicemail of Josey Wales. Say your message at the beep.’

You laugh at the sound of Dean’s voice, his Clint Eastwood false name, and the sound of mumbling after he hadn't recognized the box had finished. You stand up and grab your gun and knife that were sitting on the oak table. Shoving them into your bag and waistband, you walk outside to your car. It was smaller, and not as sexy as Baby, but it had worked for the time being.

You remembered the address Dean and Sam were discussing in the car, and pressed it into the GPS and started following the route. You were anticipating what would be there when you'd open the door. You park the car in the secluded area, shutting it off, taking a deep breath and grabbing your items.

The forest didn't exactly look the safest. Every branch that cracked made you flip your head around your look. The house’s chimney was puffing out smoke, and gave you a Northern Star to follow. The impala sits in the driveway, telling you that they were still fighting the creature that lurked inside of the cabin.

You walk around back and find the door, and push it open. Walking inside, you scan the area and see glass broken and other splatters of random objects that were tossed. “Kid! What the hell are you doing?” Dean’s voice fills the room and you turn to stare back at him. You gulp and he stomps his feet up to you. “Why are you here?”

“Because it's been three hours! I was terrified.” You jump to your defense, pointing at him with your finger. Dean furrows his eyebrows and lets out an annoyed sigh. He shakes his head and clasps his hands on his waist. Sam appears in the doorway, and goes to ask you the same question that you've already been accused of.

“Kid—” Dean begins and you snap.

“Stop! Stop fucking calling me kid! I’m 27 years old! For your information, I'm here because I was so scared of leaving you both alone. YOU! Of leaving you alone! Because I love you and I would die if you did!”

“You’re a great friend for showing up, Y/N.” Dean Winchester mumbles before giving you a small frown. You're attempting to catch your breath, chest rising rapidly. Then, he goes silent and walks outside. You hear his engine turnover and Sam stares at you. Your eyes are crowding with tears, pooling in embarrassment and shame. That's when you desperately wanted to hear that nickname. Even the softest whisper of it, you would be happy.

Maybe that's the thing about illicit affairs— they never stay.

[outerspacebisexual]

Blessed Silence After This Mayhem - Eddie Munson / Steve Harrington

Part Three of Until the Chaos is Through & What Remains in the Wake

Part One - Until the Chaos is Through

Part Two - What Remains in the Wake

Part Four - Heinous Regret With No Salvation

Summary: Time passes, and Eddie no longer holds any sway over your life. Maybe that means you're ready for something else—something that's been right in front of you the whole time.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader (previous), Steve Harrington x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: past angst, fluff!, steve x reader without squinting, implied/referenced cheating

a/n: thank you so, so much for all the love on this little series. i never planned for it to be more that a single one shot, so thank you for forcing me to write more!

i hope you've enjoyed it, and don't forget that my requests are open!

<3 aeia

Masterlist

You weren’t sure why basketball practice was held at 6 o’clock in the fucking morning, but you would be sure to make your thoughts on it known to whoever it was that decided that teenage boys needed to run around this early.

Lucas was sitting bleary eyed in your passenger seat, barely awake himself.

“I’m regretting accepting your pleas for help, Sinclair,” you muttered as you pulled into the school.

There weren’t many other cars there at this time of day, just the basketball team and the coaches, who were all climbing out of their cars with the same sleep-clouded expressions on their faces.

“I’m regretting joining the team at all,” he groaned. “Why are we here so early?”

“You’re telling me. Don’t forget your bag,” you told him as he got out. “We’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

Lucas nodded, thanking you and making his way to where a few of the guys were waiting for him, each rugged up tightly against the cold.

You were about to put the car in reverse when you caught sight of Jason Carver clambering out of his own car a few metres away. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, and he did a double take when he saw you sitting there watching him.

It had been well over a month since Halloween, the winter chill of mid-December was out in full force. And well over a month since Jason and you had simultaneously been the hottest topics of Hawkins High.

The day Chrissy had accosted you in the cafeteria was the day that Jason found out about her and Eddie. You had felt bad about that for a few days, wondering if you should have been the one to tell him. You had just kind of assumed he already knew; it seemed like most people did at that point.

Neither of you ran in the same circles at school, so you hadn’t even seen him aside from assemblies and the one English class that you had together. Even then, you sat on opposite sides of the room.

Jason quickly glanced at the guys making their way to the gymnasium, but then he was coming towards you.

He pulled his jacket closer, breath frosting in the chilly morning air. “Hey,” he said to you as you wound your window down.

You raised a brow. “Hi.”

He shifted awkwardly on his feet; eyes glued to the gravel on the ground. You weren’t quite sure what he was even doing talking to you at all.

“Do you need something?” you asked, hoping to spur on the conversation.

He shook his head. “No. No. I—uh, I don’t really know why I’m here.”

“You and me both.”

He pursed his lips. “I’m sorry,” he announced suddenly, and you stared at him.

“What for?”

“For…” He sighed heavily, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t even know.”

When his eyes met yours, you saw the silent understanding there. The understanding that you two were both stuck in a shitty situation that somehow had you two at the centre.

“I’m sorry, too,” you said, and he nodded. “Good luck with your game tonight.”

“Thanks.” He removed one of his hands from his pocket and tapped the windowsill of your door a few times before retreating after the rest of the team.

You stared after him before reversing out of the parking lot.

+

Later that day, you were perched behind the counter of Family Video, spinning around on the chair as you watched Steve and Robin shelve the returned videos.

You didn’t often spend your time at Family Video, but you were currently waiting for Will and Mike to finish at the arcade—payment to Jonathan for ruining his day weeks ago. You thought he had been joking about you making it up to him, but when he called you this morning—waking you up from your nap after being awake so early—he cashed in the favour so that he and Nancy could go out of town.

And it was Will; you could never say no to Will.

“How do I rent out a movie?” you asked into the empty store, clicking at random buttons on the computer.

“You can’t,” Robin called back from behind the shelves. “You have to know the passcode.”

“What is it?”

Robin laughed. “As if, sweet cheeks. Keith would already have our heads if he knew you were sitting back there playing with his computer.”

You clicked on a button, wincing and pushing your chair away when and error message popped up.

“Besides,” Steve interrupted, coming over from the documentaries section to lean on the counter, “it’s not here. Someone rented it out yesterday.”

Your mouth dropped open. “But it’s Saturday.”

Steve tsked. “Couldn’t stop them. They were very persistent.”

“Traitor,” you mumbled, sliding your chair towards him.

Steve looked just a good as he normally did; red and white polo almost skin-tight, tucked into his blue jeans. The nametag on his vest was crooked, and you reached out to straighten it.

You felt him freeze, going rigid as you messed with the clasp.

Once you were satisfied it was as straight as it could be, you leaned back in your chair and took it in.

He was already looking at you, small smile on his face. “What?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He tapped his fingers on the counter and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Hey, do you…do you want to go to the game tonight?”

You frowned. “We already are,” you said to him, confusion clear. You guys always went to Lucas’s games, your big group of mismatched teens and freshman clumped together in one row cheering louder than anyone else.

On her way to the back room, Robin commented, “He’s trying to ask you out.”

Your paused, blinking at him.

Steve huffed exasperatedly. “Thanks, Robin.” He shook his head at her returned ‘you’re welcome!’, turning back to you. “I know we normally do, but I wanted to know if you wanted to go…with me?” He was fidgeting with the magazine on the counter, trying desperately to appear confident and unphased.

You saw past it, and your stomach flipped. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

His eyes lit up, and seemed relieved, like he’d been expecting you to say no. “Great. I can pick you up at 5:30?”

“I’ll be ready,” you said, and you tried to ignore the heat behind your cheeks.

He grinned, before disappearing after Robin to no doubt shout at her for getting involved in stuff she shouldn’t be. That was a bi-weekly conversation that the four of you had with her.

As you sat there, you were honestly a little surprised. Sure, you and Steve had been friends for a while now, but you had never picked up on him wanting to take you out.

Maybe you just hadn’t been paying attention.

You thought back to all the moments that he had been there for you or wanted to hang out. Your other friends all made time for you, sure, but Steve was always going the extra mile.

You also swallowed back the unexpected appearance of Eddie in your mind. There was an uneasy feeling arising, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

It wasn’t quite guilt, but it felt similar, like you were breaking faith. Which was ridiculous.

You hadn’t even entertained the idea of going out with someone after your breakup. It just wasn’t something you thought you were even remotely ready for. Plus, it had only been a month and a half since Halloween.

Was it somehow too soon?

Then again, time didn’t seem to matter for Eddie, apparently, because he had fucked someone else while still being in a relationship. So, why did it have to matter for you?

And if you were being completely honest with yourself, your relationship with Eddie had been wavering for a lot longer. It had been weeks and weeks of him pulling away and making you question if you had done something wrong.

It had been him who caused you to cry night after night while you prayed for him to come back to you, not wanting to believe that he was doing anything wrong.

Steve had never once made you feel like that.

He had never made you cry, or question his friendship, or made you think you weren’t enough.

You smiled to yourself.

If there was one person on this earth who made you feel like you deserved more than you thought you did, it was Steve Harrington.

+

Lucas was absolutely beaming after the Hawkins Tiger’s win at the game tonight.

He had been the one to intercept a pass by the opposing team, leaving Jason wide open for a pass that won that game.

You had been cheering harder than you ever had as he was hoisted up onto the shoulders of his teammates, smile wider than you had ever seen it.

After the celebrations died down, you were all standing at the door, organising rides home for everyone. You and Steve had offered to take Dustin, Max, and El, but Nancy had shot that idea down with little more than a knowing smile.

Your cheeks burned as you said your good-byes and followed after Steve, promising to see everyone for your movie night in two weeks.

On the walk back to the car, Steve slipped his hand into yours. You glanced up at him, but he kept his gaze on the gravel as it crunched beneath your feet.

“I had a nice time tonight,” you said, and he finally looked at you.

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “I mean, the game was normal, but spending it with you…I liked that.”

He bumped his shoulder with yours. “I liked spending it with you, too.”

You smiled, something that you always found yourself doing when you were graced with his presence. Steve never failed to make you smile or laugh, and it was comfortable.

With Eddie, you had never been fully relaxed in the way that you were with Steve. And in the last weeks, it was tense, like waiting for the other shoe to drop. You felt like you were walking on eggshells trying to be perfect in order for him to love you.

Steve…Steve never made you feel like that. Steve was secure, and safe. Being with him felt like blessed silence in the wake of chaos.

His car appeared, seeming closer than where you remembered him parking it.

Ever the gentleman, he opened the door for you, waiting for you to get in.

You hesitated for a moment, looking at him.

His brows furrowed, raising as if to ask What’s up?

You bit your lip, and a thrill went through you as his eyes flickered to your lips for a split second.

Looking at him now, you wondered how you had never seen Steve they way you did tonight.

Steve, who had always been a constant in your life, who always tried to cheer you up, who always wanted to spend time with you, who knew your favourite movie and made sure it was always there for you on a Saturday night.

Steve, who always made sure you were all right, and made you feel comfortable.

Steve, who told you over and over again that you were worth more than what Eddie was giving you.

Steve, who told you that you were enough, and made sure that you believed it.

And he was standing in front of you, just like he always had been.

You didn’t think. You just took the leap of faith, surging forward and kissing him.

He didn’t waste a single second in kissing you back, his hands coming up to rest on the sides of your neck.

It wasn’t like kissing Eddie.

It was like kissing Steve.

When you pulled away, Steve kept his hands on your cheeks, brushing his thumb over your cheekbones. The car door between you didn’t stop him from kissing you again.

This time, when he pulled away, he couldn’t pull his eyes from yours.

“I can’t believe you just kissed me,” he said.

You started. “What?”

“I had this whole thing planned out for tonight, and you just sunk all my plans.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping from your words as you said, “I’m glad that’s how you feel after kissing me, Harrington. Remind me to never do it again.”

You went to slide into the car, but he grabbed you before you could. “I’m joking, babe. I promise.” That thrill ran through you again at the nickname. “How about we get out of here?”

“Where do you want to go?”

Steve shrugged. “We could go back to my place and watch a movie?” As he said it, he started to smirk, and you narrowed your eyes. “I hear there’s a cool one out that’s funny, and a little sad, with a killer soundtrack.”

You gasped. “You!”

He chuckled. “I thought I might have to sweeten the deal.”

+

“Remember we have to pick up those sweet bun things for Dustin,” Steve said as you made your way through the aisles of Bradley’s Big Buy. “He’ll kill me if we don’t.”

You hummed, pushing the cart along. “I’ll kill you, too. Those things are like magic.”

You picked up a bottle of soda from the shelf, putting it into your ever-growing pile of groceries.

Movie nights were becoming less and less about the movies, and more and more about the food and the gossip. Not that you minded, but it did mean that you blew half a week’s paycheck in one afternoon.

“Do you think we’ll have time to swing by my place on the way? I forgot to bring the movies.”

“Steve!”

“What? I forgot.”

“Yeah, the one thing that we actually need,” you groaned. It would take an extra twenty minutes to drive back to his place and then to yours. As you turned down the next aisle, you remembered the request from Nancy. “Can you run and get the dip that Nancy likes? She asked for it and I forgot to grab it.”

Steve raised a brow and shot you a look. “Oh, who’s forgetting stuff now?” he teased.

“I’ll forget you in the store in a minute.”

He held up his hands in surrender and left you alone in the candy section.

You were debating your options, unsure between the sour straps or the candy corn when you heard your name being called. Looking up, you were shocked to see Wayne Munson pushing his cart towards you. You hadn’t seen Wayne in months, well before your breakup with Eddie. With his conflicting shifts at the plant, he was either asleep or at work whenever you went over.

“Mr. Munson,” you said, blinking in surprise. “Hi.”

“How are you doing?” he asked you, and you winced.

“Uh, yeah. I’m doing all right. How about you?” You weren’t sure if he knew about what had transpired between you and his nephew. You didn’t know if Eddie had even been honest about why you two had broken up.

“Working doubles at the plant at the moment, so about as good as I can be,” he told you, aiming for humour and falling just a tad short.

You laughed anyway. “I’m sorry. That must be shitty.”

He shrugged. “It is what it is.” He studied you for a long moment, and your heart started to race. “Eddie’s been real sad since you left. Struggling a bit. Hasn’t been himself, you know? And if I’m allowed to be selfish here, it’s been a shame not having you around.”

Left, like it was you who decided to end your relationship. You tried to keep your face blank. “Yeah, it’s a shame,” you said, not really sure what else you could say. ‘Sorry your nephew is a lying, cheating bastard’ seemed a bit much.

That was when the man of the hour came around the corner, arms full of assorted packets of chips.

He froze, and you stare at him.

Like Wayne said, he did look like he was struggling. He looked terrible—worse than he had that day in the main street a month ago. He barely even looked like himself.

Ruining your relationship for a fling with a cheerleader who didn’t even really want you would do that to a person, you supposed.

In the weeks past, you had only grown more hostile towards Eddie. Because fuck him. He cheated on you, and you realised you were completely justified in wanting him to eat glass and die in a hole.

But you had some respect for Wayne, and trying to remain civil for his sake, you said, “Eddie.”

“Y/N,” he breathed, dumping the chips into his uncle’s cart. “H-Hi.”

“I was just saying how much she’s missed around the park,” Wayne said, and Eddie’s eyes shot to him.

It became so painfully obvious that Eddie hadn’t told his uncle that he was the reason that you didn’t come around anymore. The temptation to out him was incredible. It sat right on the tip of your tongue.

“Uh, yeah. Sure are,” he murmured, pushing his hair back from his face. You noted that his bruises had all faded. You wondered how he had explained those ones to his uncle, too.

Wayne’s eyes darted between the two of you, no doubt picking up on the tension that only seemed to be growing. “Are you having a party?” he asked you, gesturing to the array of different foods in your cart.

Turning your attention to him, you said, “Sort of. More of a gathering of friends for a movie night.” You glanced back to Eddie.

Eddie hadn’t been invited to a movie night since Halloween.

Once, he had been a staple in the nights, switching seamlessly between talking to Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will about Hellfire stuff, and smoking with Steve and Jonathan outside talking about whatever it was they talked about.

After Halloween, no one had invited him.

There was a mounting sense of sweet satisfaction at knowing that he not only ruined his relationship, but the majority of his friendships, too.

He looked like he was going to say something—maybe ask for an invitation, you thought sickly. God, you wished he had so that you could have turned it down.

But then his eyes flew to something over your shoulder, right before Steve sided up to you, chucking the dips he’d collected into your cart.

“Munson,” Steve clipped out. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You coughed, gesturing with you head to Wayne. “Steve, this is Mr. Munson, Eddie’s uncle.”

Steve was quick to hold out his hand, the picture of polite society. “Steve Harrington. It’s nice to meet you.”

Wayne took his hand. “Steve. I remember Eddie talking about you. Nice to finally put a name to a face.”

He was quick to shoot him one of his signature Steve Harrington smiles, all charm and grace. You seriously wondered how he flipped between perfect gentleman and the Steve that you knew he actually was.

“All good things I hope,” he replied as he turned to you. He snaked an arm around you, resting his hand on your back. “I just remembered we have to get some other stuff before we go home.”

Your brows furrowed. “What—”

Steve cut you off by turning his attention to Wayne. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Munson.” He nodded at Eddie, whose eyes were lasered focused on Steve’s hands on you. “Say hi to Chrissy for me.”

Wayne’s face flashed with surprise, and he was looking at Eddie whose own face fell. “Chrissy? Who’s Chrissy?”

Your jaw dropped open and Steve didn’t even try to hide his grin as he started manoeuvring you past them, the two of you listening to Eddie as he spluttered behind you.

Eyes wide, you whacked him on the chest as you reached the end of the aisle. “Steve…” You weren’t even sure what to say, the dumb look on Eddie’s face the only thing you could think about.

Steve’s grin was pure, undiluted joy as he looked at you. “What?” he mocked, innocence dripping from his tone.

Glee bubbled up inside you, and you could only shake your head as you started to laugh—at Eddie’s face, at Steve’s own chuckles as he rushed down the next aisle, you hot on his heels.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” you said, much too loud for the grocery store at 4pm on at Friday afternoon. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about the dirty looks from the other customers.

The only thing you cared about was the triumph that raced through you; the triumph that you shared with Steve.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he ascertained.

You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and kissing him. You were both still smiling as you pulled back, and Steve’s gaze dipped to your mouth.

“I love seeing you smile,” he murmured, kissing you again.

As he did, you really didn’t care about the middle-aged women in the aisle whispering about young people and their antics.

And you really, really didn’t care about Eddie Munson.

All you cared about was this moment, and the steady, solid way Steve stood before you.

[afewproblems]

62 &/or 71 for platonic stobin perhaps?

62: It's okay to cry & 71: You are the single best thing to happen to me.

Thank you very much for this, I love these prompts and got real carried away with this! I hope you enjoy!

If you had asked Robin Buckley to describe her relationship with Steve Harrington back in her freshman year, she'd laugh in your face. 

Why on earth would King-Steve be caught talking to her, let alone do it enough to constitute a relationship?

He was a popular jock, and Robin was a freshie with a trumpet.

It wasn't how things worked.

Steve operated on the outside of her periphery. She had an awareness of him, his actions in the popular crowd. Like any minor celebrity, the gossip mill ran rampant with tales of King-Steve.

"Harrington scored the winning shot at last night's game! Not many Juniors get opportunities like that!"

"King-Steve told Tommy to leave Harvey alone cuz he's just a freshie, saved him from a swirlie -swear to God man".

“Yeah well, I heard he broke Byer’s camera the other day, so--”

"Have you seen his hair, ugh he's so dreamy!"

To which Robin thought, 'I've seen him leave half a bagel of crumbs all over his English notes, how dreamy can he be?'

And to top it all off, Tammy Thompson wouldn't stop staring at him, twirling her long blond hair around her pink varnished nails while reading sonnets from Romeo and Juliet loudly at her cafeteria table, trying valiantly to catch his eye --peak romance right there.

But Robin wasn't quite ready to think about how much she wished Tammy would bat those long lashes at her, nah, hating Steve Harrington was easier. 

Besides, he had no idea she existed, right? 

Robin grabs a can of Coke from the fridge, reaching into her pocket for change before joining her mother at the till.

The corner store was all the way out on Main Street, but still closer to home than Mevalds or the grocer on Parsons so Mrs Buckley had stopped for a few things on their way back from Robin's band practice. 

She slides the change onto the counter and pops the tab before throwing a thumb over her shoulder, "I'll go wait by the car mum". 

Mrs.Buckley nods distractedly, waving her hand with a smile and she hunts through her purse for her checkbook.

Robin makes her way down the aisle to the entrance, the little bell above the door jingles lightly. She steps over the threshold into cool November air and shrugs her jacket collar up against the chill. 

She sighs as she looks back through the window, her mom seems to be taking her sweet time, chatting with the clerk now and going through her checkbook with a smile. 

A muffled groan catches her attention from across the lot, she tilts her head towards the sound and startles when she spots Steve Harrington, the bane of her existence, leaning against a car with a can of soda pressed to his beaten bloody face. 

He hasn't seen her, his eyes are trained at a point just ahead of him as he rolls the can over his split cheek. 

What the hell?

Robin leans away, keeping herself behind her mom's station wagon and out of his sight line. 

Who would have kicked the shit out of old King-Steve? And where were his two cronies Hagan and Perkins? She had so many questions and--

Steve sniffs once, pushing the heel of his free hand into his eye as he drops the hand holding the can.

Oh.

Robin suddenly feels as though she's intruding on something private. Watching this boy she's never talked to, who she saw last Monday walking with the rest of the basketball team into the cafeteria, Nancy Wheeler hanging off his arm with an affectionate roll of her eyes and the biggest grin plastered all over his dumb face.

But this Steve is hurt and alone and smaller than she's ever seen him before.

It's bizarre.

Suddenly he's moving, throwing the can to the gravel and stepping off the car before sliding his arm across his face in one motion, he clears his throat and throws open the driver's side door.

The engine of his beemer roars to life just as Robin's mother exits the store, she frowns as Steve peels out of the parking lot, brakes squealing.

"Honestly, why they give teenagers licenses, I'll never know," Mrs.Buckley mutters under her breath as she unlocks the car and hands Robin the paper bag, "do you know that boy?"

Robin watches as the tail lights of Steve's car disappear around the corner, the image of his hunched shoulders and black eye branded in her mind's eye. 

Robin shrugs once as she opens the passenger door, "Not really".  

***

It's not until two years later that Robin crosses paths with Steve again, slinging ice cream with the former King down at the new mall.

Her first job and it’s at some horrible sailor themed ice cream shop of all places and to top it all off, she’s stuck with Steve Harrington.

Sure, she'd seen him in passing at school, watching as he slowly fell away from the popular crowd. While it was somewhat satisfying to see Tammy pretend she had never really been interested in the former King of Hawkins High, she couldn't help but remember the way Steve looked that day, face bloody, holding a cold can of pop to the worst of the bruises.

Robin can't help but wonder just what had suddenly turned Harrington's life completely on its head that day. She'd heard it was Jonathan that had beaten him up, but given how weirdly close he, Nancy, and Steve got after that cold November day, she didn't really believe it. 

Wasn't he rich too? He drove a BMW to work for chrissakes. So why was he here?

And then there’s the kids. 

They follow him around like ducklings, begging for rides during his spare time and free samples of ice cream on the days he’s working.

It would be endearing with anyone else, but it’s Steve Harrington. 

They've been working with one another for about two weeks before it happens again.

Robin idly sprays the glass display case with the spray bottle from the back. Whatever green liquid is in the unlabeled bottle smells absolutely foul but it's the only thing in the store powerful enough to get rid of all the finger and face prints on the glass from kids standing on their tiptoes to see the flavors.

They end up having to clean the customer side of the window far more often than their employee side and normally she and Steve will flip a coin for it.

Neither of them enjoy being out from behind the counter, the shorts and the socks are reason enough for this, but it also has the negative effect of piquing enough customer interest to interrupt their down time, like the movement and streak free glass shine draws their eyes.

But, nine times out of ten Steve would ‘lose’ and pick up the spray bottle without complaint. 

Robin had started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose, but why the hell would Harrington do something like that? 

She wrinkles her freckled nose and starts wiping the glass, clearing away the smudges and dirt before spraying again to get at the more stubborn fingerprints.

Steve is late today, which is weird. 

Another surprise from Hawkins golden-boy, Robin would have expected Steve to waltz in twenty minutes late to every shift, with a scowl on his face and a refusal to pull his weight. 

But it was the opposite. 

Steve would get there early, he would review the cleaning list for the day, check the inventory to see what ice creams would need to be restocked and what the special was for the day. 

The only thing Steve had ever asked her to do, was to write out the specials on the board. 

When Robin had scoffed and asked why he couldn't do it himself, Steve had gotten very quiet, chewed his lip for a beat and said, "I don't want to mess it up, or have you have to redo it for me". 

Steve shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, "sometimes the letters are weird when I read and then it makes it harder to write them out”.

He sighs but it comes out more like a scoff, “there’s a reason I’m still here Buckley”.

Oh…so the golden boy of Hawkins High would not be leaving for college in the fall then. 

He looked at her, his big eyes traced over her face as though he were looking for any hint of a laugh.

And what else could she do in the moment but pick up the dry erase marker and shoulder him out of the way of the board with a, ‘you owe me dingus’. 

She turned her face away at the small smile Steve gave her, ignoring the twinge in her chest at his tiny confession. 

God Dammit, he was not endearing, he wasn’t!

Robin balls up the rag she used to wipe down the glass and looks up to the wall clock on the far side of the food court. 

It’s nearly eleven in the morning and Steve is still not here, she’s tempted to use the phone in the back to call his house when she remembers she has no clue what his phone number is or if it would even be listed.

She’s sure he’s scheduled with her today; it’s Tuesday, they always work Tuesdays together. 

Robin looks around the food court, scoping out the entrances and nearby tables. There’s no sign of him, no obnoxious hair, no big goofy grin, or big hazel eyes to be found. 

She huffs and makes her way to the back room, pushing the swing door open hard enough that it makes a satisfying bang against the wall. 

She freezes at the sudden yelp from the back corner. 

Steve whirls away from her, his face tipped into his open locker, his shoulders are a tense hunched line. It's a horribly familiar pose and once again Robin can’t help but feel like she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t.

“Steve?” she says softly, taking another step into the room, “whats--”

“I know I’m late,” he mumbles, the words are tight but there’s no waiver to them, “sorry”.

Robin wishes she were better at this sort of thing --her mom always seemed to know what to do and what to say when people were upset. That skill definitely skipped a generation in her case. 

He turns to face her, slowly, one hand on his nose, the other holding his wrist against his chest.

There’s an ugly, rapidly purpling bruise running down his arm where it’s cradled. The shape is strange, almost as if someone had grabbed him - it runs around the entire circumference of his forearm and--

Oh.

Steve eyes her challengingly but there’s no real heat in it, his eyes slightly shiny in the awful humming fluorescent lights.

“Actually,” Robin swallows roughly after nearly a full minute, clearing her throat as she leans back on her heels, “Uh, Marcus said we only needed one person on today, it’s slow as shit so,” she shrugs and tilts her head to the employee entrance, “you could go home if you want”.

Steve stares at her, his eyes raking over her face the same way he did after the white board incident, before he sniffs once and shakes his head, muttering under his breath that he’d rather get hit by a bus and Robin stiffens at the implication.

“You’re a terrible liar Buckley,” he says eventually, closing his locker and running a slightly shaky hand through his hair before walking towards her and the storefront, “but thanks,” Steve says softly as he passes. 

“Does that mean I can go home?” Robin calls after him, immediately wincing but pleased at the startled laugh she hears from the counter.

She follows him out front, slowly, suddenly feeling with absolute certainty that she really doesn’t know Steve Harrington at all.

***

Robin never thought she would be here. 

Not once did she think she would have ever come out to someone while she was still in highschool, let alone the former King of Hawkins high who would in turn become her best friend, her platonic soul-mate if you would. 

After the debacle that was their official last shift with Scoops Ahoy and the Russian Spy Alternate dimension bullshit where Steve risked his damn life to save her and the kids --who all knew about this monster filled Upside Down just by the by. 

So many things suddenly made so much sense, Steve and his injuries over the years, his weird relationship with Nancy and Jonathan, even the sudden personality 180.

And through the truth serum, the torture, the fire, and running down another car driven by a maniac from California, Steve was there to hold her hand, and Robin is infinitely grateful for it.

They take a job together at Family Video, attached at the hip ever since the mall burned down in July; the video store is one of the few places still hiring that summer that pays a dollar above minimum wage. 

It’s not exactly glamorous, it’s mostly restocking the shelves and rewinding tapes but it’s easy and the hours are good. 

She and Steve are able to get their shifts together most of the time, they both know this is so Keith can avoid working with Steve directly -a bonus if there ever was one. 

Things have been quiet ever since Billy’s death and the Mind Flayer’s obliteration from their world, but it’s been especially quiet since the Byer’s packed up and moved to California. 

Most of that seems to be influenced by the cloud of sadness that has draped itself over the rest of the kids and Nancy -who has been coming by more and more lately, stopping in at Family Video and lingering in the evenings, chatting with Steve while Robin shelves the returns. 

It wouldn’t even have made a blip on Robin’s radar if not for the way Steve would shut down for the rest of their close after Nancy left. 

He refuses to speak more than one word answers, refuses to engage with Robin’s one sided bantering as she balances the till and shuts down the neon Open sign.

It’s nothing like after she saw the bruises at Scoops, nothing like the quiet acknowledgement that the Harrington house wasn’t all money and sunshine the way she thought it was. 

And Robin doesn’t know what to do about it.

It’s been going on for weeks now, and she’ll be starting school again soon. She won't be able to take the same number of shifts as she could over the summer months, and Robin has no idea what will happen when she’s not there as a buffer anymore.

It’s the last week of August when she brings it up to him.

“Steve?” she says as she hands him another copy of The Terminator tape for him to rewind; it’s nearly nine at night and Nancy hasn’t been by at all today. Robin’s stomach has been in knots watching Steve watch the windows for her all night. 

He tilts his head and quirks an eyebrow at her as Robin breathes in deeply through her nose, her heart suddenly in her throat. 

“Just,” she bites her lip, “what is going on with you and Nancy?” 

Oh, perfect, real subtle.

All at once Steve’s face shutters.  

“No, come on, don’t do that,” Robin wheedles, stepping in front of him, “Steve, just talk to me--”

“There’s nothing to talk about, just drop it Robin,” he bites out as he steps around her to grab the returns cart and wheel it over to the New Release shelf.

“No, nope,” she huffs, walking quickly to the other side of the cart and grab the handles, “this is against all the laws of best-friendom”.

“That's not a word,” he mumbles tiredly, reaching up to pinch his nose and close his eyes. 

Ah shit. 

“Dingus, Steve,” Robin says softly as she lets go of the handles and steps closer into his space, “talk to me?”

Steve hesitates, seeming to chew the words or the inside of his cheek - she can’t quite tell at this point, before he blinks once, twice, his eyes rapidly becoming shinier by the second.

Oh double shit.

He shakes his head and turns away from her sharply and Robin doesn’t know what to do with her hands as Steve takes a deep wobbly breath. 

“It’s okay you know,” she finds herself saying softly as she takes a step closer, “to cry?”

Steve barks out a wet laugh and shakes his head again, still not looking at her.

“I don’t know what to do, like literally,” Robin whispers in a panicked voice, “can I, I mean, do you want a hug?”

He nods but doesn’t move as Robin steps even closer to wrap her arms loosely around his waist, he’s stiff in her embrace but slowly begins to relax the longer they stand there - as though he’s not used to something like this.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but I am here if you want to talk, or if you even just want to vent - man I want to vent,” Robin says, pulling back slightly to look Steve in the eyes, “don’t take this the wrong way, but what the hell is Nancy doing?”

Steve stills in her arms but she keeps going, “honestly, aren’t she and Jonathan still dating?” 

“Like I get that he’s all the way in California but why is she coming in here, and don’t tell me it's about the movies --she never asks me to help find anything, just you, and half the time she doesn't even end up renting anything?”

Robin stops as Steve’s breath hitches once, “it's not fair to you,” she finishes lamely, her voice petering out as Steve nods and sighs, finally bringing his own arms around Robin’s shoulders to draw her closer and bury his face in her hair.

“Thank you,” he whispers in her ear as he squeezes her tight enough to leave her nearly breathless.

“You’re the only person I can actually talk to that won’t think less of me about, about everything,” he whispers into her hair, Robin’s hands twitch as she fists his work vest between her fingers. 

“I think, you are the single best thing to have happened to me in the last like, two years Robs,” the words are constricted, as though he has to drag them out, “and…I need to tell you something”.

Robin nods as he pulls away this time to look at her, his red rimmed eyes trace over her face, just like they had at Scoops all those months ago.

“I,” he swallows and drops his gaze to the floor, “I don’t…feel that way about Nancy anymore,” Steve says quietly. 

“But you seem so upset whenever she leaves, you were looking for her today?” Robin says, confusion painting her words. 

Steve sighs and tips his head back this time, looking at the ceiling as though the answer is hidden among the ceiling tiles and water stains. 

“It's complicated, I…” his mouth opens and closes for a beat, “I am sad for her that Jonathan is gone - he was a better fit for Nancy, way better than me,” he mutters and looks at Robin once more. 

“And I know what she's doing, coming in here all the time, she’s lonely, but that's not why I’m upset Birdy”.

Robin frowns, “then what--”

“There’s this guy,” Steve blurts out, speaking over her in a rush.

Robin feels herself stop breathing, what?

His chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as he continues, “I-I’ve never told anyone this before”.

“Okay, okay,” Robin whispers, rubbing soothing circles into his back as he moves even closer and drops his head to her shoulder. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he murmurs into her vest and hair, his breath warm and wet as his chest stutters and heaves. 

“It’s okay,” she says again, repeating the words she’s told herself the last three years, “you’re okay”.

“Loving Nancy is easy, but I…” he sniffs and breathes out, Robin feels a gathering wetness on her shoulder but it only makes her hug him harder.

“But you don’t,” she says softly, finishing his sentence for him.

Steve nods and lets out another shaky breath, finally lifting his face from her shoulder.

He’s a mess, face red and blotchy, tear tracks and snot shine in the streetlights from outside the video store window. Steve’s eyes are red and puffy and his mouth has stretched into an uncharacteristic frown that makes Robin’s chest ache. 

Now Robin’s mother may have been an expert on making people feel better no matter the occasion, but Robin was an expert on putting her foot in her mouth and making Steve laugh.

And the latter felt much more appropriate at this moment. 

“I mean, you’ve come to the right person at any rate,” she says sagely, reaching up to wipe a loose tear from his nose, he snorts and bats her hand away.

“I’m serious, if anyone is an expert in gay pining, it’s me, I’ve seen it all, if you want pointers in watching from afar and daydreaming about your illegal wedding, I’m your lady”.

Steve laughs and steps back to wipe his face roughly with both hands, it does nothing to sooth the puffy skin beneath his eyes but at least the last trace of tears are gone. 

“I’m also an expert,” she chews her lip for a moment, considering carefully how to put it into words, “on how all of this feels, and how new and scary it can be,” she says softly, “trust me, I’ve been there”. 

Steve nods, his eyes shining all over again as he tugs Robin closer into another bone crushing hug.

Just in time for the bell above the door to chime. 

Well shit.

They step away from one another, glad for the distance from the front door to the counter, knowing exactly how that might have looked to the average customer so late into the evening.

“Hey man,” Robin calls out as Steve turns away from the door to hide his face, “just letting you know we close in five so…”

The man nods, he looks familiar, Robin’s fairly certain she’s seen him at school but she can’t remember the name. 

His wild curly hair and jean vest decked out in patches and pins scream, ‘Metal-Head’, as does the ever present cloud of tobacco and weed smell that follows him and around the shelves. He makes a beeline for the small horror section at the back and grabs a tape before making his way to the counter. 

“No worries Buckley, knew exactly what I wanted, I won’t hold you and Harrington up --hey man,” he says brightly, two dimples bloom as he smiles in Steve's direction who flinches at being addressed. 

Steve slowly turns and tries for a smile, “hey Eddie,” he mumbles.

Eddie’s smile drops as his eyes trace over Steve’s face, “woah, what happened sweet-uh,” he looks at Robin once before moving back to Steve, “dude, uh, sweet dude?”

Oh no fucking way.

Steve clears his throat, his cheeks slowly getting pinker the longer Eddie and Robin stare at him, “nothing, I promise, um are you still okay to take Dustin to Indy tomorrow to the hobby shop?”

Eddie nods and smiles, though there’s still a hint of worry in his eyes as he slides the tape over the counter, “wouldn’t miss it, gotta get that kid ready for Hellfire initiation after all,” he says with a wink.

“I figured if you didn’t have anything after we could watch this at mine,” Eddie continues nervously this time, gesturing to the tape Steve scans through. 

For the third time since she’s known Steve, Robin feels as though she’s witnessing something she shouldn’t, only this time it doesn’t fill her with anxiety or uncertainty, and she’s never felt more invisible.

“I’d like that,” Steve says softly as Eddie beams at him, wrapping his knuckles against the counter as he hands Steve three one dollar bills.

“Sounds like a plan my liege,” Eddie hums as he bows with a flourish, coaxing a laugh out of Steve who is smiling like a loon beside Robin, “you bring the popcorn, I’ll take care of everything else,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks backwards towards the entrance before tipping an imaginary hat in farewell as he disappears out the door.

“That is not pining!” Robin shrieks as she whirls around on Steve the moment they see Eddie get into his van, “that was full blown flirting, how long has this been going on??”

“I’m sorry--”

“Nuh uh, you’ve been getting kissy with him, and you didn’t tell me? You got to have your first kiss before me??”

“We haven’t kissed Robin, christ we haven’t done anything--”

“Life is so fucking unfair, you had to be a ‘ladies’ and a ‘man’s’ man, huh?” She scoffs as she walks to the front of the store and switches off the sign and bolts the door for good measure.

Robin turns around only to find Steve staring at her, a nervous expression warps his normally handsome face.

Dammit.

She rolls her eyes and sighs, “I am still so proud of you for telling me, but you have to admit this is unjust,” she mutters in what she hopes is a reassuring voice.

“You think he likes me then?” Steve wonders aloud as he looks from Robin to the door that Eddie left through with a small smile.

Robin drops her face into her hands, this is the man she’s chosen for her platonic soul-mate?

“You are literally going on a date tomorrow,” she grumbles irritatedly, “I watched him ask you out, not even ten seconds ago Steve”.

The smile he sends her way is blinding, and once again Robin is reminded just how much she loves this doofus, how she never would have imagined herself here as a freshman with a trumpet.

“You are calling me after,” she demands as Steve pops the till to begin cashing out while Robin hops up to sit on the counter and fill out the paperwork, “if I can’t teach you about pining then you damn well owe me a class about dating”.

Steve laughs brightly as he lays down the bills and change, giving Robin a soft grin which she returns, finally feeling as though she knows Steve Harrington much better than most.

[novacorpsrecruit]

April 24, 1987 - GAME 1

Hi here’s a Steddie Drabble from my latest sports discovery while deciphering basketball stats.

gen * wc 1,174 * established relationship

The 1986-87 Indiana Pacers season has been a doozy. Steve would never had guessed that the Pacers would make it to playoffs. Jack Ramsey, the long standing coach of the Portland Trail Blazers recently hired for the Pacers, leading the team into playoffs for the first time since ‘81.

And for the first time in four years, Steve has someone to watch the playoffs with.

When Eddie was still in the hospital, Steve and Wayne would meet in passing, alternating sitting by his side to keep him comfort and to keep him safe. The first two weeks, Eddie was in and out of consciousness, and “unable to protest when I put on the game,” Wayne half joked, nodding to the Cardinals-Cubs game on the television. Steve nodded, sitting down on the other side of Eddie as they watched the game in silence. A few innings in, Wayne scoffed. “You tellin’ me, this Rick Sutcliffe is worth a buck and a half?”

Steve couldn’t help but smirk. “The Cardinals are the ones paying almost 2 million for a short stop.”

“And a damn good one, too,” Wayne added. “Wayne.”

“Steve,” Steve added, properly introducing himself.

Wayne hummed, as if he was thinking something over. “I wondered if that was you. He doesn’t shut up about ya.”

“He’s … something special,” Steve said softly, and he was sure Wayne knew.

And when Steve and Eddie started to date, game nights with Wayne became more common. They started by watching the World Series (an unfortunate season for the Cubs, but at least Wayne’s Cardinals also failed to go into post season). Then into football season (a disappointing season from the Colts). Then a couple of hockey games when the Blackhawks were nationally televised, but the real excitement hit when the Indiana Pacers were playing.

Wayne and Steve were pretty excited when the Pacers made it to playoffs.

On game nights, one of the men would be in charge of grabbing supper, usually pizza or something from the diner on the edge of town. Wayne and Steve would settle in the living room as Eddie went to his bedroom, working on a new song or planning the next campaign. He enjoyed his alone time, allowing the creativity to flow and not worry about if he’s ignoring Steve. During halftimes, Steve would find his way into the bedroom, enjoying time with Eddie before the game picks up again.

Steve was setting up the living room and finding the channel for the first Pacers playoff game. Wayne and Eddie should be off of work and be home soon. Eddie was on supper duty tonight.

Gravel crunched under tires, signifying that one of the two had arrived. A loud slam of a car door confirmed that it was his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby —“ Steve started to greet Eddie.

“What do you mean a basket is called a field goal?” Eddie asked dramatically.

“I — what?” Steve asked a wrinkle to his brow.

“A field goal,” Eddie supplied. Steve watched as Eddie set up the three meals —three? — in the living room. Usually Eddie takes his into the bedroom before the game starts. “It’s fucking basketball. They’re called field goals?”

“I mean — yeah. Field goals,” Steve said, watching Eddie get settled into the couch, burgers and milkshakes spread out on the coffee table. “They’re the two or three pointer shots. If they score, it’s a field goal. They’re mainly called that … in stats.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, stuffing fries into his mouth. “I read up.”

“On … stats,” Steve said, sitting down on the couch, nearly on top of Eddie. “On basketball stats?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I wanted to know what’s going on in the playoffs.”

“You want to watch with us?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, leaning into Steve. “You said this was a big deal, so I thought I’d join in.” He took a sip of his milkshake. “Is that … okay?”

“You, Eddie Munson, want to watch basketball with us?” Steve asked. He extended his hand, pressing the back of his palm against Eddie’s forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie laughed, swiping Steve’s hand away. “I asked Lucas if he could give me some pointers.”

“For the Pacers game,” Steve repeated.

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a slight huff. “He said to keep an eye on Chuck Person, said he wouldn’t be surprised if he won Rookie of the Year. He said the Pacers improved drastically with the coach change. That they went from, what, a record of 26-56 to 41-41? That’s fucking impressive. And it looks like a lot of that depended on Person averaging 18 points per game? I mean, he’s no Magic Johnson or Larry Bird or Michael Jordan, but that’s still fucking good, right? For his rookie season?”

Steve couldn’t help but stare, his mouth slightly agape. He had to be dreaming, right? This is his boyfriend rattling off facts and stats in front of him, right?

Eddie waved his hand in front of Steve’s face. “Stevie?”

Steve all but leaped into Eddie’s arms, crashing their lips together in a hard and clumsy kiss. Eddie, known jock despiser, learned sports statistics for him?

“If I knew this was the response I’d get,” Eddie mumbled into the kiss, “I would’ve told you Colts stats months ago.”

Steve groaned. “It wouldn’t have worked as well. Colts sucked ass this season.”

“I know something that sucks good —“

“Please, for the love of God,” Wayne groaned from the front door. The two nearly split, pulling off of each other but staying pressed against one another on the couch. “Not in front of the Pacers.”

“Eddie’s gonna watch with us tonight,” Steve beamed. Eddie took note of his smile, of the energy Steve gave for just Eddie being interested in watching sports with him. Maybe he could get enough cash together to buy three tickets for the next Cardinals-Cubs game.

“Wondered when he’d get his head out of his ass and join us,” Wayne laughed, sitting in the recliner, grabbing his dinner from the coffee table. “Who you got on the game, Eds?”

“Depends on if we can keep the ball away from Wilkins,” Eddie said around his fries. “Ending last season with an average of 30 points per game? Need to keep him away from the net.”

“Jesus,” Steve mumbled, taking a long look up and down Eddie. “Wayne, you might need to take a long smoke break during halftime.”

“Already planning on it,” Wayne sighed. “Turn on the game.”

[wheatnoodle]

part 2 to⬆️

— wednesday —

there have been more than enough shit people in eddie’s life for him to care when his so-called “friends” don’t turn out to be who he thinks they are.

and honestly, this time, it’s on him. he’s a firm believer in second chances but even he should’ve known that steve harrington would always be steve harrington. he needs to start believing people when they show him who they really are, not try and see, try and find, try and create the good in them.

he’s hurt, he’s embarrassed, but he’s not surprised. so he turns up his music and he strums harder and headbangs faster and drowns out the sound of his brain until his friday show. he channels his feelings, his anger and betrayal, into making it the best damn show indiana has ever seen.

he wasn’t going to let some jock like steve harrington stop him from doing what he loves. steve and his stupid hair, and his stupid moles, and his stupid big brown eyes, and his stupid pouty lips, and his stupid muscles, and his-

great, now he’s blushing. because he was also dumb and he let himself get a stupid fucking crush on a stupid fucking jock who used to be bitch and seemingly still is.

besides, it’s not like he hasn’t seen steve go out of his way to support his friends. he’s at every single one of lucas’s basketball games and will’s art shows and drives robin to her marching band practice. sure, he doesn’t stick around for that last one, but he still drives her. and yet every time eddie asks him to come to his practices, or come to his concerts, or anything related to his band, steve conveniently has to work or has some excuse ready on the tip of his tongue. eddie doesn’t even care if steve likes his music, he just wants him to show up. to pretend he cares even a little bit about eddie’s music.

and the look he gave him! like he couldn’t believe what eddie was saying to him. that was just the icing on the cake. he was done. so he brushed off dustin’s pestering to ask steve to come to the movies with them, he avoided his uncle wayne’s concerned looks, and he was ready to move on with his life.

— friday —

over the years, the party had accepted that being a passenger in steve’s car wasn’t like how it used to be. when they were just in middle school, they’d laugh and bicker and they’d rope steve into their conversations or he’d look at them through the rear view mirror whenever they said something that they probably shouldn’t have.

now, post-freshmen-year, they still laugh and fight in the backseat, but steve doesn’t talk. doesn’t even look at them. robin says he’s just focusing on his driving or blames herself for turning the music up so loud. not at all because he can’t hear them anymore, no no.

so he’s in his driver’s seat, wearing his lovely family video vest, and hauling dustin and robin to the hideout for corroded coffin’s show before he heads to work. robin has her billy idol tape playing and she’s turned around in the front seat, raving with dustin about the latest nerd movie. sometimes steve is glad he can’t hear.

he pulls up outside of the bar, parks near the van where eddie, the band, and his kids are all stood around dragging equipment out of the back. mike and lucas are shoving each other around with smiles on their faces and they all seem to be wearing some kind of handmade corroded coffin tshirts.

they turn at the sound of the gravel crunching under tires. eddie’s jaw sets at the sight of the familiar beemer and he’s rolling his eyes before he can stop himself. steve gets out the car, doesn’t look up as he circles around, opens robin’s door, and grabs dustin’s bag from the backseat.

eddie is making his way over, long, drawn out steps. he’s clapping too, slowly and loud, and the van gang are staring at him, confused and quiet. steve happens to look up just as eddie gets a few feet away and begins to shout for all to hear.

“here ye, here ye! make way, make way!” eddie throws his arms out to the side, a grand gesture as he sweeps a hand across the rest of the group. “he has arrived to grace us with his presence! all hail king steve! would you like us to bow for you, my liege?”

he doesn’t get the reaction he had hoped.

there’s no anger in steve’s eyes. no fire. no promise of a fight. no clenched fists ready to make contact with eddie’s cheekbone the way high school steve would.

instead, he’s met with silence.

and steve’s quickened breathing.

and the glossing of tears building in his tear ducts that he’s trying to blink back.

steve’s eyes flick to the party behind him. they’re all looking at him. nobody is saying anything. he hands dustin’s bag back to its rightful owner. doesn’t say anything as he stumbles to his car door. his hands are shaking trying to get the key in the door. it fits in the hole, it’s made for this door, why don’t not it go in, why cant this just work for him, why him, why now-

he drops the key, spitting a hushed “sh-shit” that his voice breaks in the middle of. robin walks over, picks up the key ring and unlocks his door. her eyes are huge as she looks at him. filled with shock, with worry, with anger. he can only manage a quick glance before he’s in the car and speeding away.

eddie is still standing where he was, rooted to the spot. he stares straight ahead, arms dropping to his sides.

“eddie…what the fuck is your problem.”

[pumpkin-spice-whump]

Okay I'm super nervous to post this. This is a snippet of my novel I'm going to be publishing later this year (!!!!) And i want to share a bit here. It is an apocalyptic thriller heavy on captivity whump. This is a flashback to our main character being kidnapped and sold. He just got out of the back of a semi where he suffered heat exhaustion. This is one of the pieces I'm happy with so far, so sorry it's throwing you in in the middle!! But hopefully I'll post a bit more as I get further along editing!!

--

Looking back, Jack realized how close he was to death those first few days. He should’ve been in a hospital on an IV, but you know traffickers. They don’t care all that much about human lives.

Every so often the driver of the truck would wake him up and make him drink water, pee in a bucket. He’d blink behind the stupid duct tape blindfold, fumbling for a sense of direction. Sometimes he could hear people talking and walking beyond the walls and windows of the truck and he knew they were at a truck stop.

Faintly, he remembered seeing posters on the inside of stall doors from a trip he took for basketball last year. About the sign for help. Again, he wished he cared enough about kidnapping to remember any of that.

“Can… can I go to the bathroom?” he asked, hoping for a miracle.

Something thudded. “Bucket’s there kid. I’m not looking.”

Jack had no way to know that was true. It was in the back of his mind every time. “No. I gotta like… go.”

It thudded again. “Yeah. I know. Bucket’s here.”

“I’m not… Not in front of you.”

“That’s up to you. But if you shit your pants then you are definitely riding in the back, so keep that in mind.”

He probably would’ve followed Jack into the stall anyway.

Every time Jack was done, the man would give him pills to knock him out, and then wake him up again.

This time, he shook Jack awake and made him sit up. Jack’s head lolled back for a

moment before he could fully wake up. He was so weak and tired, there was no way he would’ve been able to walk to the bathroom anyway. The duct tape was ripped off and he inhaled a deep breath before the water bottle was pushed to his mouth.

“You gotta piss?” Jack shook his head when the bottle left. “Good.”

Then his hands started to tear away the tape over his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked, tongue heavy in his mouth. He blinked hard against the bright light and was suddenly filled with hope at the idea that he was being let go. Maybe the man felt guilty and wanted to fix the error of his ways! However, after his eyes adjusted he realized that it wasn’t the afternoon sun in his eyes, but the overhead light in the cab.

“My leg of the trip is over. Keep quiet or I’ll put the tape back on got it?”

Jack nodded, too scared to do anything but follow along as the man led him - half carried him really - out of the truck and on the dark pavement.

They were at a rest stop, an abandoned one by the looks of it. The streetlight was off, the bathroom doors boarded closed. There was a broken swing on the overgrown playground.

There was only one other car in the parking lot. A man leaned against the hood. Tall, with a long face set with lines telling his age. Couldn’t be less than forty, maybe fifty. He was wearing a dirty jacket and jeans, like he’d been working outside all day. A baseball cap covered what looked to be graying hair.

The driver let go of Jack and he fell to his knees without the support. A hiss of pain escaped him as loose gravel dug into his knees.

“Will it do?” the driver asked.

The new man looked Jack over, never moving from his spot leaned against his car. “He will.” He reached into his rolled down window and pulled out a manilla folder, tossing it to the driver.

Jack felt like his skull had been cracked open and ice cold water was poured over his skeleton as he realized what was going on. It was a trade. A deal. A traffik. Is that what it’s called? He was being sold like an animal.

The driver took a peak in the envelope, nodding satisfactorily. “Will you be needing anything else from me?”

“Not at all.”

“Pleasure doing business then.” The driver turned to leave but Jack threw himself at his feet suddenly, wrapping his arms around his legs.

“No!” he cried, desperate to not be taken even further from home.

Even though he’d already been passed through two people and driven who the hell knows where, as soon as he got in that man’s car it was final. No more traveling. He was going home with this guy. How would he call for help then? How would he get away? He was taken and now being sold to -- to who?! Maybe he really will be raped. Or experimented on or cut up and sold for parts or--

“No please!” he begged. “Don’t, please I wanna go home! I wanna go home!”

Hands gripped his waist and he tried like hell to kick out, to fight back. He even tried to bite at him, but only got open air. Jack was just too frail at the moment. There was no way he stood a chance against this strong stranger.

The trunk opened and Jack threw his feet up, attempting to stop himself from getting in, panic enveloping him once again. “No! Don’t make me get in there! I won’t be able to breathe!”

His knees were kicked in and he fell right in, arms bound uselessly.

“Feel free to scream as much as you like,” the new man said as he slammed the door shut.

Jack did. He screamed and kicked so much that he did run out of air and passed out. When he woke, the trunk was open again, cool night air filling his lungs and making him cough.

The man threw a bag over his head before roughly taking him by the arm and dragging him out of the trunk. He ignored all of Jack’s tearfilled demands to be let go immediately.

“Some stairs now. I recommend you tread lightly if you don’t want to be thrown down.”

He did, taking shallow breaths like he would be able to hear the stairs better if he did. The bag was taken off of him after another short walk at the bottom, once he was pushed to his knees.

“You can call me Mr. Reeder,” the man said, smiling down at him. “And this is your new home.”

--

That first night was one of the hardest. Jack had to try to go to sleep himself for the first time, with no drugs or panic to aid him. The only thing he knew to compare what he was feeling to was when he went to summer camp when he was 10. First time away from his mom, like really away. He couldn’t call her when he wanted to leave, couldn’t hear her voice. It’s all encompassing, realizing that you are isolated. That you are alone in a way you never have been before.

But even at summer camp Jack knew that he was going to go home in a week. This? There’s no end to this. Jack might… die here. Alone in the basement without seeing his mom ever again…

He buried his face in his pillow and screamed and screamed. When he was too exhausted to keep going, he curled on his side and imagined he was in his mom’s bed with her by his side.

[run2yoongi]

puppy love | jjk + kth x reader. ch.3

you’d met jeon jungkook and his best friend kim taehyung in your first year at university. it didn’t take long for you to fall for jungkook, however it was clear that he was less than interested in romance. you pushed down the frustration and jealousy when jungkook talks about his weekend exploits and dating app matches, telling yourself that being friends with benefits was better than being nothing at all. you didn’t expect that one of the benefits of your arrangement with jungkook would be his best friend, taehyung.

↳ pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

↳ setting: college au

↳ warnings: 18+. explicit sexual content, fr this is pure smut, no plot this chapter lol poor taehyung, pwp, oral (f rec), fingering, penetrative sex, teasing, begging, biting, pet names.

↳ side note: word count is 3.6k. ahh! you all don’t know how happy it makes me that people are liking these chapters :)) thank u to everyone who rb’s, u are the cause of my euphoriaaAAA heyYyeeaahhH. also how good is Indigo!!! lmk ur fav track off the album :*

previous | next

you were chewing on the side of your mouth when your phone buzzed you out of your daze, snapping you back into your place in the university library. you didn’t know how long you’d been daydreaming, but you noted that the sun had just begun to set. 

you glanced over to the instagram notification, catching the username @jungkook.97. you picked up your phone to investigate. he’d replied to your story, an admittedly cute selfie of you completely surrounded by textbooks and revision notes at your desk. 

jungkook.97: nerd. when do you finish?

that was indeed, a good question. recently, you’d been staying at the library with taehyung until it closed at 9pm. however tonight, taehyung had been roped into some dance workshop with jimin. the invite had been extended to you, however, no matter how much you’d love to see those two covered with a thick sheen of sweat under studio lights, you’d declined. you weren’t too enthusiastic to embarrass yourself in front of either of them. 

y/n: about to leave, what’s up? 

you locked your phone and discarded it to the side as you began packing up your notes, cursing yourself for bringing so many study materials when you’d barely gotten through half. you fished through your bag to find your earphones before they became buried under your laptop and textbooks. 

jungkook.97: sent a photo. 

that piqued your interest. after glancing over your shoulder to make sure the coast was clear in case it was an indecent image, you tapped on the message. you smile grew on your lips at the photo of jungkook at the uni gym in a thin oversized tee and basketball shorts. your eyes darted over to the text typed over his torso. 

meet me outside mine in 10? 

with a visual aid like that, how could you refuse? you pressed your earphones into your ears and swiped up to open your playlist, determined to make him wait a little bit for your reply. you ambled over to the elevator, a dumb grin stretching further over your lips. after you picked up a chilled aloe drink from the vending machine on your way out, you finally typed your reply. 

see you then

the summer heat washed over you with a sickly sweet aroma hanging in the thick air. you’d nearly finished your drink by the time you found yourself outside of the male dorms, placing your weighty bag on the gravel between your feet as you waited for jungkook to find you. you’d only been waiting a minute before a tattooed hand swiftly picked up the bag from between your legs with an overdramatic groan at its heft. 

“didn’t realise i was in for another workout.” jungkook grinned at you, the gentle golden sunlight dancing across his warm eyes in a way that made your heart skip a beat as you gazed up at him. a trick of the light made the burnt orange sky in contrast to his dark hair seem like a god given halo. he looked deceptively angelic, you thought. “you should know better than that by now.” you scolded, tucking your earphones away as you followed behind him. he escorted you through the empty common areas and into the elevator. 

he wrapped his arm over your shoulders as the doors closed in front of you, leaning in to taunt you with the closeness of his lips to yours. you could smell the delightful mix of his cologne, body wash and the faint scent of sweat. it was intoxicating in the tiny elevator, clouding your senses in your post-study haze.

too soon, the elevator doors opened to jungkook’s floor. he guided you out, your bag hooked over his shoulder until it hit the hardwood floor of his room. with a soft beep, the air conditioner turned on providing a wash of relief over your warmed skin. “just gonna shower quickly,” he muttered, tossing his shirt over his head and onto the floor as he sauntered into the bathroom. you averted your eyes from his torso, focusing on his neatly made bed in front of you. you’d seen him in worse states of undress, but his immaculate body still made you nervous. 

your head rested on his pillow as you brought your phone up to your face, tapping through instagram stories while you waited to hear the shower turn on. jimin’s story caught your eye, tapping over it to replay it again and again. to your delight, you didn’t need to attend the dance workshop to see what you’d been hoping to. the drumming of the shower drowned out the sound of your surprised hum.

the recording began with jimin darting back from the phone as he placed it against the studio mirror, revealing a lingering taehyung as the familiar beat blared over the speakers. they moved in sync, skin glistening under the warm lighting. it always impressed you how well they moved, how comfortable they were with each other. your eyes fixed onto taehyung, who bit his lip as he gyrated on beat. a charming habit you’d picked up on as you’d religiously watched these weekly stories. your mind drifted back to that night you’d gone out together. his hand on your knee, playful eyes boring into yours as he spoke in the summer heat. he’d always felt so far out of your reach, just a kind senior student who took pity on a struggling friend-of-a-friend. but as you rewatched the minute long video, you began to wonder if that was really the case. after all, jungkook had seemed to think it was plausible when he’d been spanking you over just getting drinks with him. 

you shook the thought of your head, exiting out of the story with a sigh. you couldn’t. he was off-limits. you couldn’t be friends with benefits with your friends with benefits’ best friend. jungkook had clearly been disturbed at the thought as he’d not-so-delicately explained. you scrolled through your phone, switching from app to app as your patience with jungkook grew shorter. the gentle ambience of the shower was cut short as you glanced over to the bathroom door that was left cocked open. from the gap between the door and it’s frame, you saw jungkook’s reflection on the steamed glass, his lightly tanned skin and mass of dark hair catching your eye. 

when he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam with just a towel wrapped around his broad shoulders soaking up the droplets falling from his hair, you swore you could have died right there on his bed. “try to keep your eyes inside your head, baby.” he chuckled, seeing straight through your feigned collected composure. the fruity vanilla scent of his shampoo drifted over you as he sauntered closer, you tried to keep your eyes on his face and away from his…

he lazily placed his palms on either side of your head, a defined smirk tugging on his lips. “what’s got you all worked up, pup?” he teased cockily, knowing full well the effect he had on you. you had to bite back that jimin and tae’s dance video was working to get you as wound up as much as he was. “cat got your tongue?” he chided, filling the silence that lingered in his small room. “nothing i haven’t seen before, ‘koo.” you replied coyly, staring back into his darkening eyes. his eyes focused on your parted lips, before he began teasing your shirt up to your chest. his lips surrounded yours in a rough kiss, then he lowered himself down to press a trail of softer kisses from your lower stomach up to your breasts. he took a moment to unbutton your thin blouse and revel the way your tits sat round and full in your plain black bra. 

you helped him unbuckle the bra’s clasp, eager to feel his mouth on you once more. “so fucking sweet,” he sighed as his tongue slid across the surface of your skin. he took his mouth over your nipple, flicking it taut with his tongue as his palm teased and toyed with the other. you stared at his veiny, tattooed hand and let out a soft moan at his touch. he kissed his way up your neck, to your jaw and finally licked the shell of your ear, sending a fierce wave of lighting through you to your fingertips. he was too good, too practised. 

you felt the weight of his thick cock bob against your thigh, and cast your gaze down to appreciate the smooth, pink appearance of its tip. “is that what you want?” he whispered, his lips still pressed against your ear, granting a shiver down your spine and agitating your core. “you want it here?” he brushed his fingers against the fabric of your underwear, your skirt doing too little to hide your arousal. you nodded, looking back up to him as his tongue toyed with his lip ring. “tell me what you want, pup.” he smirked again as his mouth drifted from your ear to your jaw. you felt him all over you, the heat of the shower radiating off his skin and on to yours. you felt so dirty by comparison, feeling your essence pool between your legs. 

“i want you,” you whispered, hushed and breathless. jungkook flashed his eyes at you, expectantly. “i need to feel you in me, please jungkook.” you spoke up, batting your eyes at him. if he wanted you to beg, you’d beg. he gave you a satisfied smile and placed another kiss on each of your nipples, licking at them before lowering himself further. “you need to feel what in you?” he teased, spreading your thighs with his palms.”my fingers? my cock? my tongue?” 

you whimpered, his words lighting your insides on fire. you wanted to rub your thighs together in a desperate attempt to create friction, but he held them apart- his cheek resting lazily on the plush inside of your soft thigh.  “please,” you begged, pleading eyes desperately trying to reach his. his fingers looped around the thin fabric that pressed into your hip and dragged your underwear down, excruciatingly slow. “do you deserve it, puppy?” he asked, raising a mocking eyebrow at you. so cruel, you thought. “you been a good girl today?” 

you nodded your head, exasperated. you attempted to buck your hips, unable to stay still under the pressure he was placing on you. “s’ good.” you cried out, desperate for more. as your panties were discarded to the side, he licked his lips, teasing you further. “look at that, i’ve barely even touched you.” he sneered, his finger sliding in a quick stripe across your damp center. you saw the glistening fluid on his finger as he brought it up to his lips and placed it on his tongue. “please, koo’.” you begged again, frustrated by the restraint he had over your thighs. 

“okay, okay.” he sighed, generously placing his finger back on your core. you grinded against his digit, needing much more than that. the cool air of his room made the absence of his warmth on your skin all the more apparent, and you let out another desperate whine. he grinned up at you, a devious glint in his eye. before you could anticipate it, he gave you a hard swat on your clit making your walls pulse at his touch. you cried out, again. he loved teasing you like this, making you beg, watching you crumble. he rubbed the spot that he’d slapped, spreading your essence over your clit and chuckled as you writhed. “so good for me,” he grinned. “what should your reward be, puppy?” 

he brought his tongue to meet his fingers, licking a slow, languid stroke over your arousal, pooling onto his muscle. he withdrew his face and glanced back up at you. “cumming once? maybe twice?” he pretended to think it over. “maybe we’ll just see how many times you’re capable of.” 

you moaned. he wasn’t even touching you, and you still moaned. his sadistic grin turned into a smirk as he placed his tongue and fingers back on you. you grinded against his tongue, needy and desperate for more stimulation. you hitched your skirt up further, the only remaining piece of clothing you had to cover yourself with. his tongue plunged past your folds, searching for something deeper and deeper into you. you felt your coil growing tighter and tighter, ready to snap at a moment's notice. his long fingers circled your clit, spreading your liquid all over your core and trailing down from his lips. 

you tried to fight off your orgasm, eager to make the building sensation last. but it was no use, when his fingers joined his tongue deep inside you- you snapped. you slammed your eyes shut, hips rolling with the waves of your orgasm as you came. jungkook’s tongue on you didn’t stop, he kept licking you as you threw your head back. your toes curled as your uninhibited moan rang through the dorm, certain that half the floor could hear it. when jungkook continued his calculated attack on you, you pressed your palm to his forehead- trying to push him away. he just looked up at you from between your legs innocently, his chin coated with your sheen, lips puffy and glossed. 

“that was a good start, pup.” he spoke through his grin, his fingers still dancing over your clit, causing you to jolt every time they pass your bundle of nerves. his new nickname for you rang inside your head, vacant of all other thoughts. “jungkook, please.” you begged, uncertain what you were even asking for. “you need more?” he asked, wiping the juices on his mouth on the back of his veiny hand as he crawled on top of you. his length twitched against your cunt and you knew he wanted it just as badly as you did, despite his tone. 

he reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a condom from the basket in his drawer. you tried not to break your immersion as he used his teeth to tear the packet open and stuck out his hand, gesturing for you to lean closer. “wet it for me, baby.” he instructed, eyes trained on your mouth. you propped yourself up and licked your hand, saturating it with thick pools your spit before placing it on his hard, throbbing cock. he hissed quietly at your touch, a familiar bead of precum forming as your stroked your spit onto him. 

after he was satisfied, he rolled the condom on and lined himself up with your aching core. he slipped his cock over your clit, poking and rubbing it with his tip sending a bolt of electricity through your legs again. you wrapped them around his hips, pulling him closer to you as strands of his soft, dark hair fell from where they were tucked behind his ears. the familiar scent of his shampoo washed over you once again, and you relished in the sensory comfort it provided you. 

his length pushed past your folds, slowly rubbing against your walls as you fought to adjust. the stretch temporarily blinded you with pleasure, incoherent mumblings falling from your lips as he finally filled you. “let me know when you’re ready.” he whispered, pressing his forehead against your own. you were so full, so blissed out and ready to take whatever he gave you. your legs fell from their grip around him as he pushed your legs up closer to your chest. you took a deep breath and opened your eyes, steadily nodding at him. he placed his palm firmly on your knee and began to push in deeper, taking your breath away from you. as you gasped in for air to fill your lungs, your mind flashed back to taehyung- his warm hand on your knee, his eyes, his lips, that video. 

what the fuck?

you widened your eyes at the revelation, guilt sweeping over you for an unclear reason. jungkook’s eyes were pressed shut as he unsheathed his cock from you before guiding it back in, making you moan in ecstasy. you kept your eyes open and focused on the man on top of you, making sure your mind didn’t wander where it wasn’t allowed. “look at me,” you whined, needing his attention desperately to bring you back to reality. his eyes shot open, and his mouth pressed itsself against yours once again. he broke the kiss and looked your body over. from your lips to where the two of you connected, he was transfixed. 

“roll over, pup.” he instructed, trying to hide the smirk that was forming at the fitting nickname he’d given you. he pulled out of you and helped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips upwards so your ass was presented in front of him, for him. you felt his teeth nip at your flesh as his hand stroked your damp core from his position in between your legs. you heard him adjust on the bed and felt his cock line up with your centre once again. you lifted one of your legs up, flat against the bed, parallel with the wall his bed was set against. 

he breached your walls again, rubbing himself against your velvety insides. “play with yourself, baby.” you obeyed, stretching your hand underneath you to circle around your nerves as he thrust into you. he panted over you, letting out exasperated groans and grabbing at the flesh of your ass as he fucked you dumb. you couldn’t take much more, still sensitive from your first orgasm with your second quickly approaching. 

“fuck i can feel you,” he hissed as you twitched and pulsated around his cock. the sound, scent and feeling of him completely engulfed you, and the rub of the mattress massaging your breasts with his thrusts sent you over the edge. you let out another unrestrained moan, a mixture of your essence and cum leaking onto jungkook’s duvet. he slowed his strokes but couldn’t bring himself to stop completely, rocking his hips as you moaned and gasped immersed in your sudden rapture. “fuck, baby,” he breathed, placing kisses across your back. 

it felt sinfully intimate, something he’d always consciously avoided. in that moment, he was too occupied with the feeling of you around him to care. when he finally pulled out and turned you over, he didn’t look remotely close to done with you. he looked ready to eat you up, a starved man. 

“what brought all this on?” you stammered between urgent breaths. he wasn’t normally so passionate. it was uncharacteristic, even if you were acquainted with his sadistic streak. he just smirked at you, picking you up from your position on your back and slipping in underneath you. “wouldn’t you like to know.” he mused, uninterested in divulging how your cute little puppy dog eyes in your instagram story at the library had got him so worked up while at the gym he had to leave right after seeing it. 

sitting on top of him, you squirmed as he placed more kisses down your neck and gently bit at your shoulders. “wanna show me how good you can be, baby?” he asked between teasing bites on your skin. you nodded, eager to bring him to his release. you lined his solid cock against your core as you lifted yourself above it, sinking down and taking all of him inside you with a relaxed moan. your head lulled back in pleasure, grinding down as you rested on his thighs. 

impatient, he gripped your ass and began lifting your weight up before setting you back down. he really was getting another workout. you bounced on his lap, straining your leg muscles to aid in his efforts. “wanna come in you so bad, fuck” he moaned, eyes locked on your tits as they jiggled in front of him. you clenched around at him at his words, digging your fingernails into his back and riding him with fever. he fell back onto his elbows, stretching his torso for your viewing pleasure. you stroked his abs, elated at the vision of him underneath you, hair a mess, lips parted and eyes glassy. you knew he was close. 

you reached behind you to touch his balls which earned an excited hiss. his eyebrows furrowed and he panted, looking as if he was on the border of pleasure and pain. you continued to ride and grind on his cock, before he laid back completely and held you up by your thighs. he forced his cock into you as deep as it could go and fucked you brutally right from under you. 

you felt another fucking orgasm creeping up on you as he filled you and withdrew at such a rapid pace, all you felt was the building pressure of his cock and the incidental stimulation of his pelvis smacking into your clit. your moan cut through him, seeing droplets of your cum fall onto your skirt, his lap and his cock. in tandem, you came at an unforgiving volume. his cum shot out of his cock, the feeling prolonging your orgasm as you released onto him.

you’d both cleaned up and fell into a shallow sleep, too sticky and exhausted to put your clothes back on. you hadn’t noticed jungkook’s phone buzzing with people from his floor begging you both to keep it down. 

nor had you noticed a text from taehyung, asking if you were still at the library- he’d just got back to his dorm. 

[why-what-no]

Pretty When You Cry

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst

Summary: Billy’s girlfriend gets tired of him always abandoning her to hang out with his jock friends. Based on the song Pretty When You Cry by Lana Del Ray

Requested by: My bae @mothshabby

It was a beautiful night as (Y/N) stepped out of her friend’s car, stars shining so bright like they were watching her. Her shoes crunching over the gravel as she got out of the car.

“You want me to come with you?” Nancy asked, brow knitted in concern. (Y/N) avoided eye contact, knowing that the pity on Nancy’s face would make her cry.

She shook her head.

“Alright. Steve’s there if you get into trouble , I’ll wait here until you’re back.”

She was always so grateful for Nancy. Even when the girl was a lot, the Wheeler girl was the best friend anyone could have. And (Y/N) was holding that thought in her mind like a shield as she walked towards the bonfire party that the jocks were holding after their game’s big win.

She could spot Billy fairly easily. Glowing gold in the warm light of the fire, standing and laughing with his friends. His wild laugh like a lion’s roar, his mane of blond hair blowing in the wind.

The sight of him made her chest constrict, even more so when he spotted her and grinned. Billy shoved past his friends and made his way to her. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?”

He knew something was wrong when he leaned forward to kiss her and she stepped back.

“Did you forget, Billy?” Her voice was soft, a waver in it. She was trying to pull on her anger, hoping that anger would make it easier to talk than sadness. “You said we were going out for dinner after your game?”

His face dropped, realizing what he had done. Around them, the basketball players were laughing and play fighting. Unaware of what was happening between the lovers. The fraying relationship.

When (Y/N) and Billy got together, she always felt like his whole world. She was his girl, he told her everything. So many days they spent together, holding each other close.

But Billy had been getting distant, knowing he had her so forgetting he needed to work to keep her.

Plans got cancelled hours before they were supposed to happen, leaving (Y/N) all dressed up with nowhere to go. She’d spend so much time waiting for him only for him to never come through.

And she couldn’t do it any longer.

“I’m sorry princess.” Billy was trying to make it right. “Let me get my stuff, we can go to dinner right now.”

“No. I wanna go home.”

“Then I’ll take you home.” He replied

“Not with you.”

Her boyfriend looked properly scared. “(Y/N).” He only used her proper name when he was being serious. “I’m sorry, I… I can make this better.”

She shook her head, picking at her nails. “I think it’s better if you don’t. This relationship clearly isn’t important to you.”

“No!” Billy denied that quickly, drawing a few glanced from his friends. Their attention was retaken by the party moments after, however. “I need you, babe.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” (Y/N)‘s voice was harsher, her mind made up. “Not when you keep leaving me for your friends.”

She didn’t listen to the rest of his excuses, turning on her heeling and walking away from him. Walking away like she should have done earlier.

It was only when she got back to the car that she started crying. Nancy had her arm around (Y/N), saying reassuring things that the heartbroken girl could barely hear.

While she finally wiped her eyes after her sobbing, (Y/N) took the time to examine herself in the mirror. Billy always said that she looked so pretty, his pretty darling. She wondered if he’d think she looked pretty while crying that she was. Maybe that was why he kept hurting her.

Maybe it was because he thought she was pretty when she cried.

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Mesquite Grove

Written: Sep 10 2020

Dark!Syverson x Black Reader

Also this is post is pic heavy. I really just mood boarded a lot to keep me going while I wrote. I modeled the cabin in this story of off Sky Notch. I hope it’s not to much lol and that you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and reblogging!

Autumn sits all around you. Monday, seven a.m and the town is quiet except for a few rushing cars on the highway just off from the store you now occupied. The colors of deep red and orange are dull in the morning haze but it signals change nonetheless. It felt good, for you too were experiencing another season in your life. A new town, another chance to start over. It would have been frightening if you didn’t know that without this, your life might have gone another direction. 

You stood there in the doorway, hand on the knob as you opened it completely and pushed a big heavy basketball sized stone at the bottom corner. The cold nipped around your neck and you rushed back. And you waited, a lone dot slowly being enveloped in the heavy fog. This dense cloudy layer covers the town, the trees, the homes, your store and the one across the street. 

It was beer delivery day at the liquor store and your turn of the month to stand here and take count of intake. With the door open, behind you pale light from within poured around your body as you stood in the frame. You were one leg out, it was too cold to stand completely in the weather so you stayed half in with the warmth. While watching the truck slowly roll in front of the door and then back in, you took stock of this new you. A year ago, a quiet life seemed so far away, there was a time you enjoyed the sounds of a city that never sleeps and the pace the people moved at. But here, standing in the presence of the singular sound of a truck engine it seemed peaceful.

The truck halted a few feet from the door, tail first, its lights ghostly in the fog and exhaust. You shifted to bat away the puffs of white, it doesn’t last long before a gentle frigid wind carries it off for a moment in another direction. And then there was silence once again with the cutting of the truck’s engine. 

For a moment raised voices from the head of the truck mumble over the cracking of gravel. Laughter, low and sardonic of sorts was louder as two men exited. Their stomping upon small pebbles broke the eerie morning time quietness. The first man you saw, a regular on this route greeted you with a wave. Dave, shorter than you but stout in his shoulders and frame offered a smile. 

“Hey, long time no see!” he said. You smile as best you can muster for this time of day and pull the clipboard from under your arm. “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” he added.

“The four of us take turns. Today was my day..”you said quietly. 

“‘Gotta a new helper today.” said Dave, now standing in front of you. He handed a long slip of paper, a receipt of the day's products to be delivered.

“Well, I’m glad,--” Your words and attention are pulled by the sound of a racket coming from the truck. Loud and cumbersome, it was unusual for normally Dave would have slid it more gently. But your eyes landed on the back of Dave’s helper. He had slammed the platform that was hooked on to the door to the ground. The chains on either side still shook slightly from the action. 

“--it’ll go faster this time at least.” you said finally and returned to your list.

The sliding of the truck’s cargo door jarred you again. 

“Easy.” instructed Dave. “You break this shit we have to go back to the city for another truck.”

Once again you look up to see the man hop from the bed of the truck down to the platform. You didn’t look long. The man was already staring at you from under the rim of his dingy baseball cap. He was bulky and heavy with his footsteps as he strode the short distance to you. What you did see of him, he was large with broad shoulders and a frame built for hard labor you supposed. 

“Nice to meet ya,” he said in a smooth voice. It was surprisingly light, and pleasant despite the rugged thick beard that nearly hid his lips.

A greet worth grin, short and tight unfolded upon your lips as you spoke. “Dave’ll show you were to go.”

“You aren’t even going to ask me my name?” asked the man, his smile when bigger as did the delight in his eyes. He slapped the back of his hand on Dave’s shoulder. “I thought you said the folks at The Corner Store were friendly?”

Your eyes bounced from the man to Dave who looked noticeably uncomfortable, but still managed a grin and a shrug. 

The man turned back to you, his white teeth shiny in the light from behind you. “I’m Sy.”

“Okay?”

The sarcasm hung between the rushing sound of a car and the shuffling of Dave’s feet. You rolled your eyes back to Dave. “Anything new on the list?” you asked, ignoring Sy as he walked back to the truck.

An hour in and nearly done, Sy follows you through the first trailer lined with a variety of hot beer, winding to the next right entry way he continued to follow you through the second trailer. Once again, this one too held more warm cases of beer. Down the ramp at the end of the trailer he followed you into the main part of the store, fit for retail and held a large selection of spirits and wines in this section. He followed you still passed the counter toward the large fridge where shoppers could browse the sections of glass doors. But that wasn’t the destination. Instead you walked to the end, opened the door, a muscle reflex really, you held the door open for him as he entered too. Cold, though it felt warmer than outside, and packed and stacked into half rows with more selections of beer he followed behind you at the end. Shelving lined the end of the rectangular space, and underneath that was where he was to stack his cargo. 

“You’re new here.” 

You didn’t bother to turn around, “What gave it away?” you asked.

Sy lightly half scoffed and laughed. “Well this is my hometown. I know everybody here and you’re definitely not a local.”

Not easily swayed by casual conversation you ignored him. But his presence, the largeness of his body is equal to the energy he silently emits. That can’t be pushed aside. Sy waits while you move to the back row and pick up the last flat case of canned ale and place on the stack behind you. With a finger you gesture to that corner and he squeezes between the metal shelves with beer waiting for customers and the stacks of cases on the dolly. From on top of the beer he pushed in he grabbed for five flats of canned spirits and approached you in the corner. Within this space it was incredibly small to begin with. But with him, his broad shoulders and height you quickly become uncomfortable with not having a way out. 

He bent over and slammed the cases into the empty spot. He performed this action twice more until he carried the last of it to this area. And then at last, standing in front of you close enough to smell whatever soap he used that morning he reached for the cold case you placed on top of the other beer. He smiled at you, a grin mostly, one you would see from another who had familiarity with the other person. 

When he stood, his chest was inches from you. Parts you thought were atrophied spark to life, it had been years since you were this close to a man. The pieces fired up, your skin first, smooth turned bumpy though you blamed the cold and ignored it mostly because then your heart beat harder. Besides the whoosh of the refrigerator unit suspended behind you it was all you could hear in this moment. Sy titled his head slightly with his eyes gliding down from your chest to waist and perhaps further still you were sure. Immediately put off you turned toward the door, it felt so far away now, relief from this weight of him seemed hours away. 

“I have to cut a check,” you mumbled and hoped it sounded plausible, it was the truth after all.

Without turning back a short gasp hissed across the sound of the fan. Sy was doubly close, his chest and stomach bumped into yours. Head still turned a bit and you cut your eyes back at him. He was focused on your neck, he leaned in closer and his beard brushed across the skin of your neck as his fingers dug the high collar coat away. You stepped back, well tried - there was no room to step, instead you teetered back against the wood wall, one hand grasped the cases to your right the other placed on his shoulder. 

“What-” you asked but then heard a loud sniffing sound from him.

Instantly the chills upon your arms moved up through your shoulders and fizzled all the way down the sides of your spine. He dragged his nose up through your hairline at the back of your neck. A breathy whimper later, your body felt light, yielding at something you hadn’t had in a very long time - connection. Titling your head up at the feeling of small shudders coursing down your back, the feeling was inescapable, untamed and raw. 

And then it ended. Sy stepped back, his light eyes dark now stared back at you with something that you recognized as a man starved. He blinked and took off his cap, ran a hand through wild curls and replaced his cap. You stayed there unable to wholly accept what just happened but also, those pieces of you missed whatever that was. 

“Sorry about that - I couldn’t resist any longer.”

You wanted to ask the question; resist what? The impropriety begged for argument, to yell and tell him off about crossing your boundaries as men were often want to do. But then you remembered where he stood, where you were too and how many things between you and the door there were. 

Adjusting the neck of your jacket your eyes wandered back to the door. “No worries,” you said. 

Sy nodded with a smile emerging from his beard. The parts of you separated again, once again in their scattered places you frown at him. “Are you done? Can you get the fuck out of my way?”

Sy stepped aside with his back against the shelving and the other cases of beer underneath it. Internally you scream at the lack of space he offered you but took it anyway. Quickly you step forward, keep your body pressed against the opposite side column of beer and can only manage to brush your arm across his chest as you pass. 

You didn’t bother to look back once around the last stack, you strode down the rows of beer hearing the clanging of the dolly behind. No door holding either as you walk out of the fridge door and to the register counter. It wasn’t until you were back behind there and near a phone did you feel normal again. In this dingy old liquor store, at least here with packs of cigarettes and brown spirits did you feel safe.

Halfway through your work week you awoke to the shrill crowing of a rooster. Scrunched up on the side of your full bed your eyes cracked open to the pale morning light bleeding through your curtains. It crooned again and you blinked, brows pushed together as your eyes shot to the fabric slowly moving with the wind from the ceiling fan. 

You grabbed your phone on the end table, checked the time: 6:14 a.m. 

Shuffling on the other side of the window and the waggle of chicken noises was followed by another crow, this time the thing had to be directly in front of the window. 

“God damnit.”

While you enjoyed this house, this space you created into your own vision of a singular life you felt bothered. In the past this sort of interruption in sleep either by sounds of the city or fighting from an adjoining apartment, or even the people you shared the apartment with would have been met with lukewarm animosity. But here, in this home, as you rose from the bed with little more than a shirt on, this chicken with his cawing and carrying on, you thought he might have made a better sandwich than a living thing. 

You jerked open the front door and in a flurry of wings and feathers about a half dozen chicken hysterically flapped and scattered. They ran further when you dashed toward them with raised hands motioning them to flee. 

At the end of the porch the last chicken jumped over the railing and out into your yard. Wind from your left, the north gusted around your bare legs and up under your thin shirt. Before you began to turn and go back to the warmth of your bed something caught your eye. From your house within the valley, rising upon a crest of a hill a white tin roof gleamed as the rising sun touched it. 

You would admit there was never really any concern to know the neighbors. Other than your house, this home about a mile away on the tall mound was the only house to be seen for miles. You still hadn’t met them officially, if people even did that around here. 

But their land stretched for as far as your eye could see. Marked by barbed wire fencing and metal stakes coming as close as maybe ten feet from what would be your land. But unlike your side of the fence, which was mowed before the beginning of fall, their grass grew tall and wild, the cedar and mesquite trees were thick, the cactus patches unattended as well. 

Besides this morning chicken fiasco, you hadn’t even seen the neighbors. It made you think, just a jolt really that broke up the fuzziness of groggy thoughts, that perhaps the people who lived there did not want to be seen.

Saturdays were never easy, unlike the rest of the work week this day was met with constant customers as opposed to the lazy walkin’s of a Friday night. The liquor store would be closed on Sunday, so the rush to get the drinks for the weekend shook more people lose to come and get their selections. Also, to the side of the store, the park was filled and in the evening was lit up brightly with lights. This was different. Normally it was dark with zero cars or people. Whatever was happening brought even more people in than usual. 

Your co-worker, Hyacinth, short and blond went by Cindy mostly, rushed from behind the counter to open the beer cooler for you. As typical, you were the beer roller tonight. Laden down with a variety of beer you rolled it passed the counter where Adeline still stood helping customers make their final purchases. 

“I got it!” called Cindy. 

“My back is killing me,” you whispered as you rolled past her. 

A constant complainer, and as predicted she issued back her own set of ailments. “Well try standing behind the counter constantly after you stumped your toe this morning.”

She said it frankly, as if you had no idea what pain was or could not possibly understand. You rolled your eyes back in front of you and walked through the open door while Cindy followed in behind you. 

“And I got sick this morning,”

“Stop drinking.” your voice rose up a bit louder over the roar of the fans. 

“I wasn't! I just woke up crappy is all. Ugh, this thing with Rex. Did you know he still sends me money? After all this time! He makes me so frustrated, plus I hit my toe on the brass leg of my chair. I nearly snapped it off! It’s torture standing back there.” 

“Oh, must be really crappy to get money you never asked for once a month.” 

You sat the dolly down and grabbed the first case on top. “Geeze, I would totally hate getting money...just handed to me..” your voice drew out in a sarcastic tone.

Cindy rolled her eyes back at you. “He still wants me to come to Sunday dinners at Olive’s.”

“Well he always did love his mammy,” you couldn’t help but to giggle at her expression.

“She doesn’t love me, she lets me still work here and all that but...fuck she doesn’t make it easy.”

You didn’t have time to respond before Adie appeared with her face stuck in through a crack at the door. 

“Twenty guys just walked in -” she said, her voice quiet but begging too.

Cindy waved her off and walked out. Even over the fans you could hear the high spirited laughter and deep voices, the open and shutting of the front cooler doors, the clink of six packs clanking out the windows. And immediately you were happy that there was only thirty minutes left before closing time.

Products got stacked in their predestined places with little thought. Your mind was far away from this place. There was always the tendency to drift into a daydream at the moment the monotony of everyday life became stagnant. Somewhere on the high seas, the hero of your own story where money and time meant little, where you made the rules, and felt satisfied. 

You continued to dream as you walked out of the cooler, dolly in hand, eyes straight forward as they moved to places on the shelves that needed a bottle or two replaced. You paid little mind to the men there, who spoke softly with the beat of music across the street humming through the liquor store walls. 

Weaving around them with the dolly, you hardly notice their eyes casually glancing at your body as you pass them by. It was like any other Saturday, the men included with their minuscule unprovoked attention. Their movements within the store are meaningless, your mind was set on the last fifteen minutes until closing. That bottle of clear rum called to you like the couch, like the bag of chips in your pantry and the show you had been putting off to catch up on all week. You were ready to just be off.

The dolly and you pause near the front door where the bags of ice laid within the stand up freezer. You opened the door, palmed the frozen cubes through the plastic and decided with the cooler weather you wouldn’t have to bag anymore tonight. 

Cindy said your name over the top of the men passing comments back and forth to each other.

“I’m nearly done. I’m locking the back door.” you shouted over your shoulder and began to take off again, dolly in tow toward the second part of the store. Wine bottles stuffed together on rickety shelves clinked with the vibration of the music.

“Okay but that’s not what I was talking about- Come here.” 

You kept going with the dolly. “I’ll be right back!”

So you rolled it back there, just inside the first trailer and walked back. Finally you take the time to look at the faces of the four or five men on the other side of the counter. One of them was Sy. And you stopped short of coming into the main part of the store. 

“Hey! They are having a party up on the hill!” said Cindy excitedly. 

Her giddiness elicits a smile from you. But it was short lived as Sy turned from the counter as you took a few steps near. His large body leaned on his right arm on top of the counter, he stretched out a leg and his other hand held his wrist. A lazy stance but one with purpose that said he was open to friendly banter.  

“A gathering of sorts. The boys have returned.” Sy added.

“Boys? From college?” you assumed, it was fall after all, maybe the semester was over and these boys were younger cousins. 

Adie at the other register next to Cindy laughed. Another one of the men was leaned completely over on his crossed arms looking at Adie. But she was looking at you. “No it’s the -”

“It’sa time for family to return home.” said Sy. “Usually the men take off ‘til they’re late thirties, they come back, help out with the land, home life and settle down.”

“Are ya’ll..is this a religious thing?” you asked.

Most of them laughed, even the men down by the beer, but not you or Cindy. Sy only smiled. 

“Nah, it’s more like a reunion.”

Cindy crossed her arms over her chest, a few fingers played with the ends of her hair. “Hey you still got that bottle at home? Maybe you and I can catch up on that show and drink at your place!” asked Cindy.

Still thinking about their laughter, maybe it was an inside joke you weren’t privy too. But Cindy’s sudden shift from barely contained excitement to attempting to trash the idea all together grated your nerves. “I thought you were trying to go to this?”

“We can do something else. I got my toe to think about.”

At the mention of Cindy’s stupid toe your eyes went back to Sy. 

“After we shut down, we’ll start over there...where is it?”

The car radio mumbled a tune under Cindy’s constant talking. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t know Sy was your neighbor.”

“I’m not nosey.” you threw in, keeping your eyes on the gravel road only illuminated by the headlights of your car. 

You do your best to concentrate on the road. But in the pitch black your mind makes shadows in the spaces between bare mesquite trees, vines creeping over the fences that line either side of the gravel back road. Your eyes sweep back and forth for sleek bodies of deer that would dare dart out. It doesn’t matter that you are driving the forty mile an hour speed, you were careful every time you drove this way to go home. 

And as you passed the dirt driveway to your home an ache sets in. The kind that wants to be in your own environment with your own things. You even glance back through the driver side window, checking for the front porch light and wondering if the house missed you too. 

“I don’t want to see Rex. But I know he’ll be there.” Cindy’s whining cut into your thoughts.

“Then stay away from him.”

“I can try but he won’t listen.” she added, once again usurping another opinion.

Before you know it Cindy was waving her hand to the left. “It’s right there, the turn in - with those big wooden gates.”

It was open as you turned on to the driveway, though not much better than the actual road. Passing through them, they curved over the wide path, carved into them looked like animals, dogs maybe you weren’t sure. 

“Are they rich?”

Cindy unbuckled her seat belt and popped down the viser, flipped open the mirror and squinted when the light hit her eyes. “Ya.” she said, running a finger underneath her eyelid. “They all are.”

You drove further, even here the sides of the driveway were just as wild as the road you had turned off of. Though the gravel seemed sparse and gave way to the reddish orange dirt known for this area. Soon you were much closer in a short amount of time, you could see the house - if one could call it that. What you could see from your house was deceiving. That white house, looking now, was merely a metal garage. The mansion was large, spacious, across the land with timber embedded length wise to wooden planks running long. A cabin? A huge cabin fit for at least twenty or more people. And the cars that lined in front and down the driveway could certainly accommodate just that.

“Oh ya they are rich, god damn.” you whispered and pulled off near the garage. 

You drove to the nearest light, half way between the garage and this big house. But as you came closer it wasn’t electrical, it was a torch made of a stack of stones topped with flames. Your eyes moved past Cindy who was still adjusting her hair and makeup to the house, all the lights outside were made of fire. 

“An upclass kegger?” you laughed and put the car in park. 

“No they aren’t stuck up like that. Really, they seemed to be good people.” Cindy started to say something else but shrugged. 

She looked at you, “Ready?”

You sighed and resided yourself to just get it over with. Walking toward the house, you did feel a bit better, now that the drive was over you could look forward to an exit. 

Cindy walked ahead of you, grateful to let her take the lead you let her. And she walked straight for the large front doors with more dogs carved into the dark wood. Suddenly you were aware of the air around you, it was different from the natural smell down by your house. It smelled of the flora you walked through, even the timber that made up the house. Which only seemed to blend into the trees around it, even the front door was flanked by two small trees, stripped down to bare wood and made to be part of the architecture.

She didn’t even have to open it, before you realized what was happening a woman popped out. Tall, with long brown hair was throwing her arms around Cindy’s neck. She pulled her into the house with you trailing behind. 

“I can’t believe you’re here!” shouted the woman. “Rex!!” she yelled again as you shut the door behind you. 

The woman turned back over her shoulder toward you, “You brought a friend! Please make yourself at home!” The woman let go of Cindy and opened another set of doors set into thick wood. Past the glass on either side of them movement could be seen. She pushed them in and stepped into a stone and wood foyer. You continued to follow but quickly your eyes were pulled into this grand living room the likes you had never seen. It stopped you.

Your eyes were drawn to the large wooden columns of logs that gave way to an open layout that seemed to stretch to the sky peaking through a large window on the ceiling. Further in, the second story could be seen resting on more logs but that wasn't the focal point. Among the wood, and branches stood a rock at least twelve feet tall, carved in such a way it almost looked like the outside of a den or cave. Men sat around it upon cushions of leather or fur in deep conversation and acted like they didn’t even see you. So your eyes moved from then to the lip of this rocky monument where sat a clay bowl, burning with a fire within it.

“What the fuck is this place…” you whispered. 

 “The drinks are over there,” called the woman. She was far away, at the entryway of another room just off from this rock. She gestured into the room she and Cindy walked into. But you were still gazing, amazed even because beyond this rock were a row of double glass doors, swung open with soft music being played outside. 

Cindy called your name, finally you walked over to join her in what looked to be another sitting room but it was so much more than that, you just couldn’t name it. Wood followed into this room too, and stone. There were people in here as well, some crowded around a large bowl full of something blue. 

Cindy dipped a glass ladle into, poured it into a glass and then handed it to you. She did the same for herself, but before you could really ask her anything a bellowing hoot came from behind you. 

A man with dark hair came walking fast toward you, but glancing at Cindy, her face pale mouth open in a gasp took a step back. The man she did not want to see, Rex.

More people turned, some laughed and others nodded in his direction as he closed in on Cindy. 

“Hey I’m going out there, if you need me. That’s where I’ll be okay.” you said softly. 

Cindy only nodded and then at once Rex grabbed her in a hug. That was your mark to leave, and you did so happily. 

You followed the sound of deep crooning vocals from beyond the row of doors. More people, perhaps the last addition to the silent count in your head made for thirty people in total you had seen were sat around. Again, square cushions lined the rails of the balcony, dotted out from there encircled a man with the black satin sky as a backdrop behind him. 

It felt communal in nature, some shit you might have seen on television about cults and how they huddle together, think the same, do the same. But as you observed their faces, they listened to the music, though spoke to whoever was near them. It seemed benign. Though this was the middle of nowhere, Texas, what use would have a home like this? Who lived here?

You gazed at the man for a moment as you moved to the other end of the balcony. It seemed bigger than your own home with its little two bedrooms, and small living room. And it certainly did not have a view like this. In the dark, it wasn’t truly vast blackness, stars peppered the sky like fireflies, the nearly full moon cast a pale pearly light upon the land. 

“See anything you like?” said a voice from behind you. 

Sy was there, drink in hand and a friendly toothless smile. He cleaned up, he didn’t smell like the smoke from the pits at the park any longer, the cap he had on was gone and dark hair bundled in loose curls around his ears and neck. 

“It’s beautiful here.”

Sy’s eyes moved from you to the scene over your shoulder. He nodded knowingly, his jaw tightened and sagged, like he was biting down on a thought and then blinked back at you. 

“Not as beautiful as you.”

You were unamused and it showed across your face. Sy’s expression grew serious, simply staring at you before taking a drink.

Sy stepped closer to your left and stood near, he smacked his lips. “You’ll get used to it.” he said and turned his head toward you.

“Used to what? Was that a flirt?” you asked, finally beating back embarrassment you turned your body and leaned against the balcony.

“I’m not great at flirting.” Sy dipped in close, looking into your eyes, and spoke softly, “I call them like I see them.” 

He stood straight again, “So how long have you been in our small town?” 

The song changed, a few people called out requests before the man started singing again. You watched the people, buying time before you decided upon an answer.

“I’ve been here for about 5 months now.”

“Did it take you long to find a place?” he quickly asked back. “Not like there’s a lot to pick from.”

“Actually, I’m buying the land right down the road from here. The price was right.”

“The Grove house. I know it.”

“Yeah?”

“It used to be a part of this land, the caretaker’s house, but a few generations back we let them buy it from the family. Everything okay with the house?”

“It’s a great home. I didn’t have to do much to it. But there’s a dead tree stump at the far corner of the house.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow.”

You shook your head like you were trying to throw off his good offer. This was all so strange, the house, this land, the feeling in your gut and now this.

You finished the drink off, spilled some of it down your chin as you quickly tried to deflate his offer. 

“No, no--that’s not necessary.”

“Hey we’re neighbors now. I’m home, I want to help you.”

You wanted to say no one more time but your voice loses its intensity with the sound of a woman yelling. Cursing, Cindy strode past the doors, her eyes roaming the dark and then stopping on people and looking some more before she finally landed on you.

Quickly she walked over to you, held your arms and ignored Sy complete. “Please, can you take me home.” her voice cracked.

“What’s going on?”

“Can you?”

You looked over to Sy, he was eyeing Cindy before he turned his eyes back toward the house. Shouting, low and growing louder you shifted back to Cindy. She was still looking at you, concern settled into her stance as she grew rigid, and stared right into your eyes.

You sighed, “Okay. Fine, let's go home. I’ll take you first.”

Sunday was bright, warmer than usual, but then again it was Texas, the weather seemed to have its own mind. And today it was sunny, with the heat from the sun beating out the cool wind. It made for a pleasant late morning, you weren’t even hung over. The ride back to Cindy’s was quiet, she hardly spoke - not like her. While her silence was worrisome you assumed it was some sort of lovers concern. 

The tree in the back had to be dealt with. You figured a few hours of digging around it would yield results. And while it did you were nowhere near getting the four foot wide trunk out of the ground. Squatting down near a deep exposed root, you swung your hatchet, splitting the wood and chipping away at the foundation.

You were sweaty, and tired of using energy best spent making food and sitting in front of the television. Laying the hatchet down you grab a rope and knot it on the end of the cut root. You tugged hard, nothing. 

A rumble of a truck pulling up into your driveway didn’t sway your efforts. Planting your feet you hunched over and pulled back harder. It gave a little that time. When you tried to pull again, a pair of gloved hands wrapped around the rope in front of your grip.

It was Sy. 

He smiled while plucking at the rope, “Let’s give it a tug.” 

His thick arms rubbed against yours, he fixed his stance closer but wider and his thighs brushed against your as the rope wrenched back. He grunts hard, “One more time,”and with another jerk the root comes completely loose from the trunk.

Sy released it and you turned toward him. He was grinning down at the stump, white cotton shirt straining around his large arms with his fingers in the jean loops.  “Looks like you’ve done a good job of getting it to surface. I bet I can pop it out for good.”

He backed up his black trunk and made easy work of wrapping a chain around what was sticking out of the ground.  You stood near the front of the house and observed him gassing the engine. Within a few minutes the stump cracked as it fell forward in the direction he pulled broken roots and all. 

“Thank you!” you said cheerfully. Jumping from the porch you saw Sy lean over into the bed of his truck and retrieve a gas saw. You watched him cut the stump down into slices. You wanted to help afterwards, you even tried to lift one but they had to be at least a hundred pound each. 

“I got it.” and without another word, and to your amazement, Sy squatted down and grabbed a piece. He walked a few feet with it, his arms wrapped around the part of the circumference and placed it in the bed. 

“If you’re up for a cookless night we are having a family dinner up at the house. Do you want to go get ready?” Sy walked back to you near the wood and grabbed for another piece.

“Right now?”

He lifted it, “Ya. Go wash off or whatever it is beautiful women do. I’ll wait.”

It was evening, the sun was setting when you stepped out of Sy’s truck. Gone was the warm weather in its place mist or fog seemed to grow from the spaces between the trees trunks and branches. Somehow the natural world mimics how you feel inside. There are shadows within you too, hidden by the mists of memories, light displaced by ghostly uncaring hands from the past. You look over to Sy, back straight, head lifted he walks like a leader. And when he turns to you, his eyes blazing some of the haze within you disperses. 

Even with his silent acknowledgment that this was the beginning of something new. The lines of cars aren’t ignored. 

“Family dinner,huh?” you asked in jest, though left it open for him to explain further.

Sy nodded, a whisper of a smile tugged at the end of his mouth and you suspected the expression was mischievous but you don’t know why he needed to be. 

Up the stone steps again, the outside ornate door was wide open though the one behind it was not. He walked forward, pushed it and let you walk in first. It smelled wonderful, food of some sort, meat and the fragrance of leather and wood met you. 

The grandness of the living room was even more so in the evening light. The feeling of being within a tree, or a cave did not go unnoticed. Sy grabbed your hand, surprised by this subtle gesture you allowed him to hold you, guide you toward a room that was closed the night before. The distant hum of voices grew louder once he opened the door. You wanted to stop and take in the space, the living room was but a glimpse-- this room was for kings. 

The entire space was timber walls, stone flooring with three low-height long tables running horizontal in this great rectangle of carpentry. The furthest wall was lined with large windows which offered the view of the tree country valley and everything of god’s creation. Bowls of food, trays of hot delights steamed up into the air looking like smoke in the dying light. The people surrounding the tables, had to be at least a dozen each. And Sy continued to walk along the side he came to the head of the first table, and nodded to those who waved at him. Their voices hushed with his approach to the middle table, he brought you to the second empty seat where you sat on the leather cushion. He took his place at the head, eyes wide at the selection, the prestige of this room you looked to him confused.

“The pack is back together!” called Sy. And at once the room bellowed with hoots and howls. 

“In a few short hours we will celebrate the beginnings of a new generation!”

Another round of hollering and calling waved across the crowd. “Eat!” announced Sy. And with that the yelling died down and the clutter of silverware filled the hall.

You stared at the fried chicken mounded up in a tray, and then to the more than rare steak to the left. A heap of corn on the cob with a tiny bowl of butter was quickly taken and passed across the table. 

You turned to Sy, he had already filled his plate with what looked like brisket, a few ribs and yellow potato salad. 

“What are you celebrating?” you asked, and without looking up he spoke while chewing.

“The return,” he shrugged and grabbed a rib and began to eat again.

Not wanting to stick out, quickly you filled your plate with whatever was close and took small bites while glancing down the table and around the room.

Cindy wasn’t too far away. Surprised because of yesterday's turn of events, you waved, and she returned it with an ecstatic smile. She leaned in next to Rex who gnawed on a chicken leg. Your eyes moved from her with a bite of a roll, to the carving on the wall behind Sy. 

The scene depicted there seemed to flow from one transition to the other. First a man, walking through trees, and then he knelt before a great dog. “Who made that?” you asked and took a sip of ice cold sweet iced tea. 

Sy looked over his shoulder, he grabbed a rag and whipped his mouth and beard. “It’s a family heirloom.” said Olive who sat across the table next to Rex. 

“It’s over two hundred years old. It was one of the first things created here.” added Sy.

Your eyes turned back to the raised carving. “This house is that old?”

“Older really.” chimed in Olive.

“This homestead is a testament to family, loyalty, and resilience.”said another, a woman. The same tall brunette from the previous night. 

“So..this is a reunion hall or something?”

Sy shook his head. “This is my home. And also the place our pa-family meets. It sits on three hundred acres of protected land. Throughout there are other homes, not as big --for families who return. Generational homes..passed down.”

“Like my house?” you asked.

“No, that was a gift to the caretaker. His loyalty was never seen of his kind before. It’s a shame he passed away and his family let that land go.” said Olive.

“It’s in good hands now.” added Sy, who picked up the pitcher of tea and refilled your glass.

Your attention laid upon the faces of strangers eating. “These people are your family?”

Sy sat the pitcher down, “Might as well be.”

Confusion spread across your face, “I’m sorry but,” you put your fork down and looked at Sy. “Okay, these people aren’t your family? But this is a family home?” You looked behind you searching for older faces besides Olive and found none. “What about your parents? Do you have siblings?”

Some of the noise lowered with your secession of questions. Maybe you hit a nerve, but there were other women who looked to you as well. “Ya, I came with Jack,” the tiny young woman nudged the man’s ribs to her left. “So many secrets,” she giggled.

Sy cleared his throat before he spoke. “My parents were killed when I was about twelve. I was raised by Olive. This home belonged to my mother and the land to those who resided here.”

“But why?”

“It was originally a colony.”

“Oh,” you supposed that made sense for the times. But in today’s world...you weren’t sure, strange.

Dinner ended with the men and their dates leaving the hall. Though you did see a few women and men stay behind to clean. You walked next to Sy, out of the rows of double doors to the balcony. At the right stairs looking like they were unfinished from a whole piece of a tree. You followed him down them, winding along the edge of the balcony the stone column holding it up to the bottom. 

The only patch of treeless land was not far from the home. Out there night had descended into the orange moon slowly rising into the sky. Your eye was drawn to an equally fiery color of flames licking the cool night air. 

“What a pretty full moon!” a woman’s voice said softly from the crowd.

“Not quite,” said Sy. 

You were standing next to him, watching him gaze at the fire. It cracked and spit sparks near you before he began to speak once again.

“This is a special night.” he lifted his head and spoke loudly toward the people and you. “A homecoming.”

Sy’s fingers pulled at the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head and then junked it into the fire. You stepped back and looked at the faces of the men. They did the same, each one, to the shock of the partner standing next to them. 

From the dark a woman approached, gray hair, wrinkled heavily around her eyes and mouth. She carried a stone bowl the same color as the long thick dress she wore.

Oh shit.

“This is a cult.” you whispered and took another step back. Sy pulled you back by your wrist. 

He mumbled at first, you thought he was speaking again but you didn’t understand the words. They seemed to rhyme and flow in the same pattern, like a chant.

Your attention was back on the woman, she drank long from the bowl, she stepped to the edge of the fire, something within you felt danger that if she stood any closer her dress would catch fire. 

Her saggy cheeks were full, she leaned back and spit the liquid into the fire. The burst hit the flames, a scream from within the crowd crawled up from the howls from the men. The area was blanketed in smoke and sparks. The thick charred hot mist forced its way into your nose and down your throat. You tried to run but Sy now held you from the back. Craving fresh air you sucked in and gulped down any that was available. 

“What is this!” You yelled through a scream that tasted of blood. 

“The beginning.” he whispered into your ear.

Your legs buckled and Sy allowed you to hit the hard dead grass. 

The smoke parted, maybe your eyes deceived you but the woman there, the smoke trailed into their mouths and nose. 

“You lovely ladies might be wondering what all this means.” his voice was low, thick with a delightful litany. His eyes were wide as he stared at each one. “Well, for us it’s about family, always has been. And for you, tonight, it’s the start of the rest of your life.”

Sy began to pace half way around the fire and then back to you. He shoved a thumb into his chest, “I’m the Alpha prime in these parts, and this here is my pack. They’ve brought you here tonight, they have chosen you.”

From your place on the ground, through the yellow tops of flames, Sy turned his eyes to you. “I have chosen you.”

At the sting of his words you fell back and twisted with pain. Something hard and beating thumped through your chest and traveled down your muscles to your belly. As soon as the wave crested you scrambled away from the deafening screams of women behind you. Trampling through the grass it hit you again. You stood against it, huddled and hunched over your own scream called out into the night. 

Sy was there, you smelled him before he even touched you. The pain rescinded with his touch but you resisted him pulling you toward him, you kicked at his legs even though in his hands made you felt whole somehow.

“Stop!” you screamed but he held tighter, his hands traveled up your arms and held your face. He forced you to tilt your head and met his eyes. A honey colored ripple flashed over the dark blown out pupil invisible waves of spread out from your eyes down your body. It was inexplicable, with his gaze you calmed to his touch, you gave in. 

Sy pulled you back to him, even though the sweater you wore the heat from his skin penetrated the fabric and so to your senses as well. He was in front of you but within you too, somehow you could feel him in your blood. 

“First rut!” shouted Sy up to the sky. Howls issued back, the sound whirling and ringing in your ears.

“Alphas!” Sy dragged you by the wrist for you to follow, blurry eyes stared up at the house.

“Claim your mate!” 

You entered the house in a flurry of groggy blinks and disconnected images. Flashes of wolves carved deep in stone, the sweat of dripping down Sy’s neck, his arms around you ushering you here and there. The smell of him got stronger down a dark hall, you tried to faint then, so overcome with the tearing in your groin you wanted to die. You wanted to give up and surrender to what could only be a slow death. But Sy, ever ready, pushed you, his presences gave you strength to continue over the threshold of a room.

If not for your own breathing the cries throughout the house might have scared you. Death seemed plausible though; how hard could a heart beat this way without dying? Never mind the terrible screams, the violent fits of rage that seemed to float through the wood and enter your mind. You were dying, right?

You clutched the wooden end-board as Sy stripped you naked. He maintains the closeness during, holding his chest near your back, a hand over your belly as he pulls the shirt over your head. He pressed his lips to your neck the sensation wracked your spine seizing it in an arch to meet his naked length.

“I smell you…” he whispered and jerked you around. “I want to rip you a part.” he growled then quickly kissed you. 

You let him take. You let him feel and run his hands all the way down your back. Whatever this was, it reacted to his touch, left you breathless and sucking in air too. 

“But I won’t,” his hands were back at your face, his teeth nipped your lips as he spoke between bites. “I promise, I’ll control myself baby.”

He turned you back around, with a hand forced you to bend over and without another word he pushed into you. Wet wasn’t the word for it, the moment he hit bottom you felt the warmth roll down your thigh. Sy gripped your hips, pulled out and then snapped your ass back to him. 

The invasion bruises you, it forces you to stretch around him. When you start to cry Sy stalls. He slipped from you, held you close from behind and directed you to the side of the bed. “Shush, hush, baby..” he whispered.

He fell to the bed with you, on top of you already positioned between your legs before the tears could start up again. “Put your arms around my neck okay,”

You felt heavy all over but you did as he said. Sy smiled and kissed you as he pulled your hands up over his arms and sank back into you. “There’s my girl..” he said on a pant. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, licking, tasting you his tongue swirled over the bit of skin just below your ear.

“We felt just right,” he groaned. 

It felt like hours, the constant prodding, the grinding into you, his skin slapped against yours undoing you from within. You had never come down so hard on the sensation in your life. Holding on to him tight he pounded into you, his teeth scraped your skin until he bit down. Something more, larger entered into you at the base of his cock, you shouted out as he tightened his jaws. His legs and hips pushed you further up the bed with the shaking of his body. Sy lifted up his head, finally you could see his face, the ripple of yellow rolled over his eyes, his face contorted into some ungodly beast. 

Horror filled you, with the roar he let loose. You were fading though, the fear became thin with the steady beating of your heart. Your arms fell from him, his face returned to what you remembered. You laid there with him still inside. Sy’s face turned down to you, lovingly he kissed your lips, your chin, your cheek. A satisfied growl carried from his chest, long and vibrating it soothed you to shut your eyes. It sounded like a dog...

No, a wolf. 

The men in your life before were easy to pin down who they were. Too loud, and their words gave them away. Too greedy, and their needs, their time was above your own. They took too much and gave very little. Their faces and their warmth are nothing to compare to the man now laying at your side. 

You were a single child of single children. No extended family, passed friendly close acquaintances. Which many were brought into the fold because of childhood parties, work friends, but none could offer the connection of family. Sy offered this. A wild beginning for certain. But lying in a bed softer than clouds, his scent covering your body like the finest of tissue paper brushing across your skin but never truly feeling its weight. 

Naked as the day you were born, your lids crack open, the light coming in was muddled with mist diffusing into the room as a constant drizzly morning. Sy’s arm was around your waist and when you turned your head his eyes were already open too, watching you, studying the sleepiness across your face. 

“I'm so tired...what did you do to me?”

His arms squeezed around you, holding you securely but you didn’t think of it as a vice, “Our kind is meant to be sleeping now. It’s our first rut...it can be exhausting.” 

Your mind searched for the meaning. Rut, it was something you had heard from hunters. When creatures mated..it was a time for animal reproduction. “Rut?”

Sy folded his other arm under his head, his blue eyes with one freckled stare at you steady. 

“Babe, you were changed for the better. The boys, a few females are wolves around here.” 

You sat up fast, that was a mistake for your body felt heavy. “Wolves?”

“Our people have been around for as long as there have been men.” said Sy staring up at you. “It’s a gift most would say, a curse for others.” And he rolled over on his back and threaded his fingers over his stomach.

“Which is it?”

“It’s an honor.” 

“How is this even real? I don’t understand…”

“The world isn’t black and white, this isn’t the movies.”

“So..I’m changing..into what?”

“You are the Omega prime here, I don’t recon you’ll change like me but you are this. Once you see and allow your nature to come through you will understand my love.”

You pull the covers up closer hoping that somehow it would protect you from the truth. “I’m changing into a wolf??”

Sy chuckled lightly and pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke. “No, you’re a vessel.”

“I don’t want that.”

Suddenly Sy sat up and moved his large bulky body toward you while pulling the sheet from you and sitting directly across you. 

He looked you into the eyes, “It’s too late for that.”

The aches in your body, the creaking in your joints were reactivated under his gazing. Without thinking you stretched out a hand and grazed it over his shoulder and down his arm. There was no use fighting it, that feeling was beginning to churn and flex under your skin again. 

You fell back to the pillow, you can’t stand even your own skin. It itched, it pulled around your muscles in a way you had never felt before. His scent enveloped you, permeating, it sinks into your pores. You could smell him more now, as if the volume of this sense turned up to zero you could even scent his cock and craved what was within it. You wanted to hunt, you wanted to run, to provide...what the fuck?

Sy unfolded your legs and laid his hips between them. “Baby, you’re sweating again. You need me. If you go for too long..you need it.”

Shaking your head while wrapping your hands around his neck your voice trembled out, “I don’t.”

His big hands buried between your body and the bed and gripped your ass. “You do...” And pushed inside of you. Every inch that sank your mouth stretched open. 

“My little omega is wet for me,”

The words didn’t make sense but they rang true for your body. It was dirty and confusing but it made you want to be good for him. You shut your mouth, moaned as you did so and nodded.

Sy began to thump, a smile maybe pulled at the corner of his mouth but his eyes remained serious. “That’s it…”

“I knew you would be a perfect fit..” he groaned too, hitting bottom. “Take my knot so well, love.”

“It--it hurt.” you mumbled.

Sy kissed you lightly, his expression turned to concern, “I know love, it’s supposed to at first.” he grunted and began to slap against you harder. “Just a tight omega..”

The longer he thrusted the more the base of his cock began to thicken. He bounced against you testing the width with each jab until he was forcing it in and out of you. “See..” he hissed and laid his head against your shoulder. Sy’s tongue licked around the marks on your next sending shudders to your core. Gasping, heart thumping his rubbing from within on your clit burst the sweet ache from within. 

“That’s my girl..” he whispered. Sy rose up, grabbed your wrists, pinned you down and fucked you harder. 

His knot entered you completely as he stilled on top of you. In the light of a dreary day his face flashed once again of the hound he hides within. His grip tightened and this time you did not give in to the sleepiness. Sy collapsed, still holding your wrists but dragged them higher as to settle in. His hips continued with small well intended prods.

He lifted his head and stared down at you. “Do you feel it?” 

His cock laid within you thick and heavy. He moved a bit and couldn't pull out. “That’s me inside of you. I did this last night, but you passed out. I fucked you all night. Do you remember it?”

Now it made sense, the aches and pains. “I had you about six times.” he said while still slowly moving his hips. He rolled his eyes back barely containing the ecstasy in his voice. “I’m filling you.”

Your purpose unfolded within your bones, spread to your muscles as warmth from the sun would. A sweet burn, one that felt ancient and destined. The life you had before shed from you as you nodded toward him. You are his, it felt right and true.

When his hands left your wrist you understood that he had brought you into his life. As he held your face and poured into you, there was no other person he loved more. 

“Just a little more,” he said and began to peck your cheeks again. He appeared relaxed and with it so did you. He rubbed your hair, cuddled into you no longer moving his hips. “We’re going to make so many beautiful children together.”

Maybe with him and this strange new way, that your life before could mean more now because it brought you to this moment. Gently you caressed his face down to his beard and carefully kissed him back. Sy grinned as he pushed back on your lips. 

“I’m going to take care of you,” said Sy.

Out of the shower you walk out with Sy naked once again. Water dripped down your breasts and to the floor you couldn’t shake the fact that this house felt like outside. Or maybe it was nature itself that had been invited in. You felt it here more than in any other place. The sense of being at peace, at being at home. Sy’s footfalls are never far from you. Like air, like sunlight too.

“This is --” you said sitting on the bed. “I feel odd. Like I feel you or this house..I’m not sure how to explain it.”

Sy handed you a towel and began to dry his body off. “Bonding.” he said while rubbing his dick and then his thighs. 

You stood up once again, and started to dry off. “You’re my mate. This home was built by my family, it means something.”

His words swallowed your thoughts as you stared at him for a moment. Sy walked to the closet in the far corner, he pulled out a few pieces of clothing and started to dress. “I’ve got stuff in here for you too babe.” and motioned for you to follow.

“How?”

“We still have the keys to that little house you’re buying. I had them move some of your clothes here while we were eating dinner last night.”

He leaned over and pecked your head. You walked to the closet and pulled on the long sleeve shirt, and held the sweat in your hands. You grabbed some faux sheepskin fleece boots too.

“Over there,” he pointed near the bed to a large ornate dresser. “Your socks and things.”

You finished dressing as Sy walked from the bathroom, his curls were tamed for the time as he fanned his fingers through them. “Just try and let it happen, okay? The more you fight it, the longer it takes.”

“You brought me here! You drugged me and now you just want me to accept this?”

Sy shrugged, “It’s always been this way.” He stepped up to you and the connection hummed at his fingertips that lightly grazed the skin around your mark. “I know you feel wronged. I’m sorry I took you. But this is your home now, it would only upset the baby if you kept fighting against this.”

Your head snapped back, “Baby?” You touched your stomach, a reflex really. 

“There will be soon.” he smiled and brought you back to his face, “We need to--” but he stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. “Wait here.” 

Purely out of the concern in his voice you did as he said. But there was more, it was in your bones and you followed out the door anyway. Loud voices carried across the space. At once within the hallway the smell of rot hit your nose. Maggoty things sprang to mind, decay and plunder of flesh flashed across your mind. Sy continued around the second story, and you followed passed busts of brass faces and more pelts lining the inside wall. Despite the sunny rays pouring over dark wood from above and falling down onto the stone monument below, the air felt rancid. 

Passed an adjacent hallway, and another few closed doors you saw the source of the fretful talking. Rex turned his head from the railway overlooking the first floor up to Sy. He paced away from it back to the door behind him, he looked in, his eyes wide he did not stop staring within. Sy stopped next to him, you saw him turn his head and peer in too. You followed suit, with your eyes adjusting to the light blazing in from three giant windows. Within the bed laid a woman upon her back, arms half moved like a crooked doll her eyes were open staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

She was the source, your stomach turned and you stepped forward. Sy held you by the arm. But she did not look decomposed, but the smell wafted up to you anyways. “Cindy!”

You moved again but was still held back, “Wait love.” asked Sy quietly.

“She didn't--” Rex was crying as he spoke. “..the transformation..she.”

There was an end, clearly somewhere within this concoction of mystical smoke people could die. Women met their end.

Olive approached from the other side of Rex, she crossed her arms and stared within the room disappointed. “You know what needs to be done Rex.” her aged voice cracked in the middle, executing the order while dealing compassion was never her strongest trait. 

“She just died!” you yelled.

Olive stayed level as she spoke to Sy. “You don’t want the old God after us, Alpha Prime. You are that now, tonight will make it official. You must do it.”

“She has a family! They will look for her!” you turned around and shouted at Olive. 

Olive seemed to cave into your voice as she turned her head shakily toward you. “I know her mother, sisters. If they come asking questions I’ll handle it.” She released a breath, steadied herself against Rex and looked back to Sy.

“When’s the last time you knelt to an Omega Prime?” he asked Olive. She frowned, and it looked like she was biting the inside of her lip and averted her eyes back to the room. “Half the day is gone.” said Sy.  “Tonight is the run..we need to do this just after dark.”

“So that’s it!” your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “You kill her? Now you’re going to hid-”

Sy whipped you around stared right into your eyes, the color in them shifted. They emitted authority down upon you to the point you were left speechless. His jaw relaxed and with it an almost soothing growl followed, but you broke through you attempted to turn your eyes. But he grabbed you by the arms, made you gaze back at him. He began to growl low, not threatening, you felt the anger within you plummet. 

“Now that you’re calm, listen. She has received the gift but her soul did not take to it. If we do not dispose of the body properly...”

Sy let you go and turned his eyes back to the room. “Let’s just say they haven’t had a dark soul in this area in a generation.”

Already the house smelled better, though cold with every window now wide open, the older women went about shutting them again. A small thin woman with silver hair eyed you as she walked passed you toward the kitchen. 

“There’s still breakfast left.” she said softly. “Just for you, miss.”

You muddled over her comment for a minute. You were starving but the idea of eating after finding Cindy dead was pulling at your ethics. She turned at the door to the kitchen and waved you in. You relented to the hunger. 

Within the kitchen it was busy, with women and men going about preparing food. A giant stone island had six people surrounding it chopping up onions, tomatoes and other things you didn’t get a good look at. The woman returned to you with a plate of toast, a giant pile of scrambled eggs, bacon and glass of orange juice and motioned for you to sit at the last seat near a young girl who was crushing saltine crackers into a giant bowl. 

You ate quickly, said nothing as their conversation picked back up with the arrival of this woman. She had to be about ninety, she commanded the kitchen, ordered people with soft words but stern looks if they back talked her instructions. 

“Well no one else is gunna say it.” said a woman from the other side of the counter. She had curly brown hair, jagged eyebrows that gave her the permanent expression of agitation. “So how does it feel to be the Queen of the Den?”

When you bit off from your toast, those talking halted and looked at you, some continued their jobs in silence. 

You chewed a couple of times, “I don’t know what that means,” you said with a full mouth. 

The woman looked up to the older woman rolling out dough. She scoffed, “Sloan knows how to pick’em.” and rolled her eyes.

With that the old woman banged the roller on the counter and pointed it back at the woman. “Peach! It’s true!”

“I won’t hear it!” said Peach, her soft voice broke into a growl. “Dottie shut that damn big hole in your face!” 

“It’s not for you to know how to strengthen the pack.” Peach relaxed back, held the roller between thick knuckles and looked back toward you. 

“Sorry about that Prime. I wouldn’t recon young and dumb went hand in hand unless it came to Dottie. She meant no harm.”

You nodded slightly, sat up a bit straighter and continued to eat. Sloan? After all this, you had never known his first name. They returned to work, though Dottie went right back to chatting with the woman next to her. The little girl hummed next to you as she moved to the next sleeve of crackers. And halfway swallowing the orange juice the back door swung open with a man carrying an animal over his shoulder. Sy entered right behind him, the man slammed the carcass on a large prepping table at the back of the large kitchen. 

Sy’s gaze never left you as he walked across the kitchen, he slipped in between you and the girl and kissed the top of your head. 

“Hey Sloan.” you said under your breath, he pulled back nodded then smiled slightly as he grabbed a few crackers from the table. 

“Are you done?” he asked, you plucked the toast from the plate and followed him out the back door.

You walked and walked with Sy. After a few minutes of silence he grabbed your hand and led you away from the house deeper into the land. 

“What’s going to happen to Cindy,” you asked quietly. 

“At dark there will be a ceremony, she will be buried then.”

He said it matter of fact though it did not set that way with you. But nothing really felt right since you got here. It was just another shocking development after another really. “What kind of ceremony?”

Sy helped you step over a fell tree, “For the turning. She has to be burned before it’s over.”

You tried not to take his callousness to heart. Though it did seem insane to speak of the dead in such a way. It didn’t strike you as hard though. Something within you felt calm about it, like a lasting trust for the man near.

And you didn’t know if it was the walking but you felt sick. At first in your stomach but quickly it grew to aches and cramps in your belly. 

“I heard Olive say that,” you said through a twist beginning to gnaw at your back. 

“The pack expects it. I’m the Alpha Prime, it is up to me to see that we are safe. And I will do it. I’ll do it till my last breath.”

Sy let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your back. “This land is for you too,” his hand drifted down your back and settled into the back pocket of your jeans. “I want you to feel at home here.”

When you didn’t respond Sy stopped and forced you to look at him. His fingers stroked your cheek and then with the back of his hand, testing and feeling your claiming skin. “You need me?” he asked.

Shaking your head you pulled from him and walked whatever direction you thought he was going. But you didn’t get far before you doubled over. 

Sy was there, near you making you stand up and lean on him. “Come on, there’s a cabin near. It should be vacant for a few hours.”

“We can’t just use someone’s home-” you winced.

He made you walk with him again, “It's not. Call it a lookout, there are other things out here a lot more dangerous than the occasional coyote.”

You huddled into him, sweating and whining as he walked you down the path where a small house came into view. He helped you up the stairs feeling the wetness building between your thighs. And as soon as you got in it he was on you. “We barely made it in here love.” he said between kisses. His hands quickly grabbed and tugged at your pants as he walked you toward a patchy couch. 

His nose dragged from your neck, your breasts with his fingers pulling at the top of your jeans. You didn’t fight him when he pushed you down. You didn’t say a word when he used your jeans and underwear as a way of holding your legs up and close to your chest. Exposing your glistening pussy, Sy pulled himself out and entered you immediately. Bare upper thighs, Sy’s hands held you there allowing the pants to continue to restrain your legs. 

“Do I really want this? Or is it something else?” you moaned as he pumped fast.

Your eyes rolled back, “Feels so good.” you whispered as he thumped harder.

“It's real,...you belong to me.” Sy leaned in crushing you more with his weight and size. He sucked hard and fanned breath down to you as he huffed, “Always have…the smoke wouldn’t have taken if it weren’t true.”

“You,” he pushed in with every word, “..belong to me.”

“They live in the fog,” Sy said and pointed toward the dark patches between trees. 

You were right to be afraid, not of them though, for you had seen these on your first ride up here. In the car with a chatty Cindy you had told yourself it was only an illusion. Perhaps the fear was of yourself, the ignorance, the lack of connection to worlds thought to be of lore that were closer than you thought.

“Who are they?” you asked while walking closer to Sy. The open woods felt smaller now, what other beings existed out in the wild?

“Sprites, small gods.” he said, looking forward again. “B’careful and never ask anything of them. They crave warmth at the best of times, they like to hang around bodies. But if you speak to them it’sa chance for them to get inside of you.”

You said nothing after that, wide eyes continued to search the trees recognizing more hazy emotionless faces than before with each step. Light from the torches grew brighter, illuminating the dark and with it the beings faded with the touch of heat. 

You entered the area lined with thick wooden torches topped with fire. The other alphas followed behind with their mates and little was said among them. The crack of the fires to the cold of the night was the only sound that really interrupted the moment.

Sy and you stood just within the entry of this circle of flames, one after the other one alpha with his mate took their spots around the center. Built of wood like a stage and on top - a body shrouded in white, it reminded you of something you had only seen in the movies, a funeral pyre. Rex stepped close to the structure, his head pointed toward it, the flicker of shadows and light play down his back and over his head. The shiny beads, things that looked like round coins hung and clinked together in the gust of frigid wind. 

You didn’t look away until you felt Sy step away. He was behind you, unhooking the handle of the torch from the pole. And he stared toward it, walked past you and flung the torch into the brush skirting the pile.

The moment it caught fire something twisted within your gut and chest. At first it felt like guilt, a pang across the muscles in your chest but it persisted. It burst to life in your senses from your lungs and spread out to the tips of your fingers and toes. You heard screaming, light quips of moans from the other women. When you looked around they too were grabbing their chests at the same time you hunched over. Standing there in sparse dead grass, you tried to steady yourself, bracing the air but nothing came to your aid. It buckled your knees. Whatever this was swept through you in waves of pain and knowing. You weren’t sure of anything, but it felt okay, that all of this wouldn’t last. 

The wood cried as flames engulfed the bottom tier completely. And with it, the very atmosphere around you snapped and spit energy you’ve never felt before. Low growling from all around but the loudest, the longest comes from your side. You look up from the ground to Sy. Teeth bared through his thick beard his brows were pulled tight, the angles of his features once again exaggerated into something not human. You stared horrified when he began to claw at his chest, his fingers were not his own, they were long, gnarly and tipped with long nails. The yell from his mouth was an ear splitting soul shaking screech that shook your spirit. 

With the crack of bones, his skin sloughs off long black fur, the floppy bits hit the ground and immediately sank in and became fertile ground that sprouted green grass. His legs grew long and bulky and snapped back like that of a dog. He grew taller, bigger with a wolf's snout and face. 

Suddenly a shriek from the fire rang above the growling and howling around you. Upon the pyre the fire had reached Cindy, but she wasn’t laying there any more. Her body stood, claws ripped through the sheet as it too caught fire. You stared up at it hopelessly, panting hard your heart thumping at an inhuman speed, part of you gave up in the wake of this. You sat there unable to fight the buckling and rebirth of your senses.

Cindy’s body lept from the toppling pyre toward you. No time to react or run something large stepped between you and it. A man screamed from your right, he was in the middle of changing to. Rex stepped toward it with his face shifting in and out of human and wolf and tried to grab the thing by its arm. 

The sheet had burned and melted into what was once Cindy’s face. Its jaw opened long, stretching pieces of fabric and skin across its dark mouth and shrieked. The thing swiped at Rex, slicing through his skin to the white of his flesh across his neck, chest and belly. Blood splashed into the air and to the ground. He crumpled to the ground, dead before he even touched it. And when Cindy’s body turned back toward you something suddenly impaled her chest straight back into the fire, pinning her there until the families consumed her completely. 

It was quiet after besides your breathing and the warping of blood in your ears. Sy, now fully transformed, stepped to Rex, picked him up and as gently as he could, placed his body too in the fire next to Cindy. 

His feet were large paws that you centered your attention on. Displacing the dirt with every step you refused to pull your eyes up further. And when he knelt down to you, his great big clawed furry hands sat on either side of your body. He nudged the side of your face with his wet nose until you did look up. His eyes were the same, with the ripple of honey across blue that you had seen before. He tilted his head down, rubbed his nose into the palm of your hand until finally you ran your hand over the bridge of his nose, and up into the thick fur between two giant ears. 

He pushed his nose into your neck gently before he stood up. Whatever had come over you was quickly dispersing. Though now, after, you smelled more, like a scent had color or flavor that you had never noticed before. The same with your vision, prying your eyes off the newly formed Sy, and glancing at the trees and saw the fog people for who they were. No longer just faces, full bodied apparitions with different clothes and emotions of their own.  And your hearing, besides the tiniest movement of creatures, you could sense the footsteps in the ground and in your ears from the direction of the house. However peering through the dark you could see their silhouettes were still quite close to the house.

Sy grunted and you turned back to him. His snout was tilted up toward the sky, sniffing and licking the air. He howled long and loud and the others followed. He turned to you once again, baring his teeth and took off, leaping over the pyre toward the other side of the circle. A sudden rush of the others following their leader joined him and disappeared into the forest. 

The hall was packed. Along with the row of three tables that you had seen before, there was another, running diagonal at the top. You sat next to Sy who sat at this table, on the middle cushion, surrounded with the faces you had come to recognize. The new members appeared as you felt, lost perhaps in the fray of the night's ceremony, exhausted too, and probably worried about their new lives. They too most likely felt the pull as well. The fading of what their old lives were being replaced by the energy of family around them.

But even as they and you came to grips with what this new life included cheering erupted throughout the hall. Laughing, and gesturing toward one another as they ate and swapped tales of their adventure in the forest. Yes, this felt like family. Something you weren’t so used to having. 

Peach came walking to you and Sy holding a large platter made of wood. She came to your side and slid it into the empty space on the table. On it were slices of meat overlapping in a circle that looked nearly raw with it’s moist flesh, and dark red sauce.

Sy picked one up, he placed it near your mouth. A subtle smile played at the corner of his lips as he urged you to open.  You felt the enormity of this moment if you took this bite. This was it, you would be accepting your place here and everything that meant. You stared into his eyes and then took a small bite. The flavor was metallic in your mouth, tangy and fleshy as you chewed. Sy ate the other part. He passed the plate to the next man who did the same with his mate.

He leaned close to you, his nose sniffed your neck back and forth tilting his head slowly. “I think you got a secret.” he whispered, still sniffing you, his nose brushing upon the skin of your jaw.

“I don’t think it’s a secret that this is all weird,” you laughed softly, and picked at your food.

His nose touched your skin again and breathed in deep, “Oh yeah,” his lips caressed the rim of your ear. “You’re pregnant.”

You jerked your head toward him, mouth slightly parted, the words escaping as they formed in your mind. “I will protect you..” he said.

“I will love you ‘til the end of my days.” His fingers glided long the other side of your jaw to your chin. “D’you accept me?” he asked quietly. 

The hall had gone quiet. You ignored the weight of their stares. Slowly you stroked his beard and nodded slightly. “I accept you.” you whispered back. And cheering roared.  Part 2

[billys-pretty-babe]

The One I Was Looking For

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : Billy was your best friend, he'd only be your best friend because you didn't have feelings for him, and that was okay. He watched every rejection, was there for you every time you got stood up, and deep down he knew he'd always be better for you.

Everything is from Pinterest :)

Warnings : Swearing

Word count : 1,370

He hated seeing you cry over guys. Billy has been in Hawkins for a mere 2 months, you were his best friend, you were everything to him and it scared him, he knew how easy it was for someone to leave him.

Tonight, you had a date with one of the basketball players. Billy laid on your bed, watching as you sat at your vanity and did your makeup as you gushed about the guy. Billy rolled his eyes, he had heard about the date, what the guy had wanted to happen but Billy knew you, he knew you wouldn't let him do anything in public.

"Where are you guys going again?" You glanced at him in the mirror, "The diner on Cornwallis." He nodded, he knew where it was, he had too many late nights there, being a frequent visitor on Saturday nights. "Get the burger." You screwed your face up, "You don't get a burger on the first date, Billy." He mocked you and you laughed.

"I'm staying here while you go out." You nodded, "There's pizza and pasta in the fridge. My dad's out of beer so you're out of luck unless you brought some." He nodded. "Didn't bring any but I'm fine without it, don't need any." You nodded and finished off your makeup. You stood up and looked at your outfit, cute and casual. Billy spun his finger and you spun and he nodded and put his thumb up.

"Wanna come?" He raised a brow, "For what?" You shrugged, "Just to go, I'm sure there will be girls there." He shook his head, "I'm good, I'll wait here." You nodded and found your keys. You smoothed Billy's hair back, his hair in his face. "Remember to eat, I'll get you a burger since it sounds like you want one." He smiled and nodded. "Be safe, call your phone if you need me. I can be there in ten minutes." You smiled, "Thank you but I think it'll be a good one." He nodded and you left.

He twiddled his thumbs before going to your kitchen and raiding the fridge, finding a lonely beer in the back of it. He grabbed his plate loaded up with pizza and spaghetti and walked back to your room and he sat on the floor, knowing you'd be upset if he got food on your blanket. He chose one of your VHS tapes, opting for a horror movie, trying to distract himself.

Twenty minutes passed and the phone didn't ring and he hummed, taking it as a sign that the date went well. An hour passed, the movie nearly over as he heard the gravel crunch and he prepared himself to listen to you talk about the date. He heard the door shut and lock and your footsteps along with a bag crinkling and he looked down at his empty plate.

The bedroom door opened and his heart sank as he saw your cheeks covered in the black mascara that you had carefully applied. He pushed the paper plate away from him as he got up, groaning slightly considering he had eaten a lot. You didn't say anything when he stood in front of you, you just let your head fall to his chest. He grabbed the brown paper bag, grease stains on the bag and he set it on your floor, putting the milkshakes on your little table and he held the back of your head.

"What did he do," he asked softly, his pinky rubbing the back of your neck. You didn't say anything, you just held onto his waist, his cologne comforting you because you could always count on Billy, no matter what. "He didn't show up," you said as you calmed down. Billy's right hand went to your waist and he rubbed the bottom of your back.

"I'm sorry." No he wasn't, Billy was just sorry that it made you cry. "It's okay, I should be used to it." He kissed the top of your head, "You'll find someone one day and he'll treat you like you're his everything, trust me." You looked up at him, eyes brimmed with pink, lashes clumped from crying, makeup getting on his shirt, "Mean that?" He nodded, kissing your head once more.

"Get cleaned up and we'll eat." You looked at the empty, dirty paper plate on your floor. "Don't look at that, I'm still hungry." He wasn't, he felt like he would burst if he ate anything else but he would do it for you. You nodded and walked to your vanity and took off your makeup, being careful of your lashes and Billy took off the white shirt he was wearing as he looked in your dresser and grabbed one of his white muscle tanks and he put it on, fixing his hair.

You looked in the dresser and found comfortable clothes and changed, Billy laying on the bed, watching you. You had no problem changing in front of him, unless you were completely naked, then you would change in your bathroom. He unbagged the food and he grabbed a milkshake.

"Want me to restart the movie?" You shook your head as you chose another one. He groaned when he saw Risky Business and you laughed and sat on the bed, sipping the milkshake as you both watched the movie, the food long gone. Billy groaned as he laid back, patting his stomach. He unbuckled his belt and popped the button on his jeans and let out a breath and you laughed.

"Fucking hell, I don't think I've ever eaten so much in my entire life." You laughed and shook your head as you gathered the trash and went into the kitchen and threw it away. You walked back into your room as Billy stood in a pair of shorts, his shirt pulled up as he checked himself out in the mirror. "Abs are still there, I'm good." You rolled your eyes, pinching his hip as you passed him and he grumbled, "Stop doing that shit, it hurts." You laughed, "So it's okay for you to bite me but when I pinch you that's where we draw the line?" He hummed, "Yes." You rolled your eyes again and he looked at you, "Keep rolling your eyes and you'll look like a damn slot machine." You laughed and shook your head.

"Come on, I'm tired, my eyes hurt. I think I got mascara in them." He laid down beside you, patting his stomach and scratching as he groaned. "Let me look at your eyes." He rolled onto his stomach, groaning again and you laughed and he moved so he was a few centimeters from your face, his breath hitting your face. He held your eyes open as he looked at them.

"I don't know what I'm looking for." You both laughed but he never moved, instead he placed one hand beside your body, his left hand still on your face. "Billy, you're being weird." You said, laughing at the end before your laugh was cut off by his lips on yours. Instead of pushing him off, you welcomed the kiss, kissing him back and everything else disappeared, your hurt feelings were replaced with something else.

He pulled away first, pecking your lips a few more times before laying beside you. You looked at him, "What was that about?" He laughed, "I've been waiting to do that since Halloween." You hummed, "Could've saved me so much heartbreak." He hummed, "I know but hey, at least you know I'm a good kisser now." You shrugged, "I guess so." He rolled his eyes and rolled over to cuddle with you, something the two of you always did.

"Give me a chance, one date and if you decide you don't see me as anything else than a friend, then that's okay." You nodded, "Okay." He nodded and turned off the lamp. "My stomach hurts," he groaned and you laughed at him. "You ate too much." He hummed, "Figured." You both laughed into the darkness and you held onto him and smiled.

Maybe, just maybe, Billy was the one you were always looking for, but you'd figure that out after the date with him.

[omg-i-think-i-like-you]

Steve loves a clean car. His BMW is always neat, in and out. He forces the kids to take all their garbage with them as they spill out of his car and looks for leftover crumbs after they ate, absolutely not caring when he begs them not to. He washes it thoroughly every Saturday morning, never skipping it. Everyone knows it's his busy morning, and don't bother him. Usually Robin comes over and makes herself at home, but she knows he won't even look at her until he's done.

"You don't think it's a bit much?" Eddie arrived a few minutes after Steve started cleaning one morning. It was a hot day and Steve was in his old short basketball pants, and wasn't wearing a shirt. He had music blasting from the car radio, and he ignored Eddie completely.

"Stevie," he tried again, walking closer to him, "come on..." He batted his eyelashes and smiled teasingly.

"Eddie, please," Steve said impatiently while scrubbing the back windshield. "I'm cleaning."

"I can see that, and that's why I'm asking, don't you think it's a bit much? you do it every week."

"No, I don't. It's important to me." He took a deep breath, not letting Eddie ruin this for him.

"I don't get it," Eddie shrugged, "it'll get dirty again the second all your munchkins get in tomorrow, so what's the point?" He leaned against the car with his hand, imprinting his palm on the window.

Steve was getting visibly angry now, trying to talk without raising his voice, "the point, Eddie, is that it's important to me, okay?" He threw the dirty rug into the soapy water bucket, crouching down to clean and reuse it, "please, make yourself busy, find something inside to eat, get in the pool, I don't care. just- please, let me finish."

Eddie shrugged again, "as you wish, Stevie boy, enjoy your pointless task." and he disappeared into the big house.

Steve pinched his nose bridge and took a deep breath, and then got back to his routine.

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

Steve woke up spooning Eddie from the back. He took a short look at his watch to see it wasn't even 6am. It was a Tuesday, and both of them didn't have work until the afternoon, so technically he could just go back to sleep and enjoy a late morning, but a plot has started to write itself in his head.

He stayed there for a few more minutes, hearing Wayne coming in and going straight to his room after his shift, and then he slowly detached himself from Eddie, doing his very best not to wake him up. He successfully got out of bed and out of the room, and closed the door behind him.

He opened the cupboard under the kitchen sink, looking for cleaning supplies. He found a sponge, some rugs and a bucket, a window cleaning solution and dish soap. He sighed and took them all out, and then grabbed a few plastic bags and slowly got out of the trailer, trying not to drop anything.

When he placed everything on the gravel, the sun started to come out and birds were chirping. He took a deep breath in, he loved the morning air, before everyone woke up it felt cleaner, somehow.

He opened the hose and started filling up the bucket with water, and added the dish soap. He then threw in the sponges and rugs and let them soak.

He opened the front door of Eddie's van, prepared for a mess, but not that much of a mess. Actual food was all over the floor, which made Steve wonder how the pedals even work. The dashboard was sticky and empty snack packages were all over the place, but mostly stuck between the chairs. Steve couldn't blame it all on Eddie, because he knew the Corroded Coffin guys took the van sometimes too. He also couldn't remember when was the last time he actually was in the van. When they went out together they almost always took Steve's car, mostly because Eddie's driving made Steve fear for his life, but maybe also because he just didn't feel comfortable in Eddie's car? He couldn't tell.

He started picking up trash into a plastic bag. In the beginning he went slowly, trying to touch as little as he can, but when his hand dipped in a brown thing he hoped was melted chocolate, he gave into it and grabbed piles of dirt, filling bag after bag.

When he was done with that, he started hitting the seats, making crumbs and sand and probably living things jump into the air. He then took out the car's carpets and shook them from all the crumbs he just dropped on them, banging them on the ground and giving them a wipe with a soaped up rug. He cleaned the air-conditioning vents, the windows from the inside and made sure the stirring wheel didn't glue to his hands.

He finished the interior of the car after 6:30am. He shut the doors and opened the hose again. He sprayed water all over the big van, getting it all wet. Then he took the soap, and squeezed the bottle, covering the car with green stripes.

He took one of the sponges out of the bucket and started scrubbing. He scrubbed every single inch on the van, the windows, the door handles, the bumper, the licensing plates, the wheel rims and even the exhaust. He knew it didn't make sense, but he did it anyway.

He opened the water again, washing the car from all the foam, and watched the dirt dripping down, exposing a shiny van, that smelled like clean dishes. He took a dry rug and went over the entire van, wiping away the excess water and leaving it nice and ready to go.

He got rid of the now dirty water bucket, washed all the rugs and sponges and threw away the ones that weren't usable anymore. He took everything back inside, put it in its place and hopped in the shower.

When he joined Eddie in bed, the latter mumbled in his sleep, "where did you go..?"

Steve kissed him on the cheek, "just the bathroom," and he fell asleep again with Eddie in his arms.

The two boys woke up around 10am, stumbled out of bed and walked into the kitchen to make breakfast. Steve was cooking eggs while Eddie made them both coffee when he gasped and ran out of the trailer. Steve looked through the window to see Eddie running and then standing in front of the van in shock, turned off the stove and ran out too.

He placed himself next to Eddie who slowly turned his head towards him, "what the fuck..." He whispered.

"What?" Steve asked, innocently.

"Did you do that..?" Eddie was still half whispering, and opened the driver's door, "Steve!" He sat in front of the wheel, "this entire car smells like you! you did this!"

Steve completely forgot he sprayed his aftershave in the car when he finished cleaning. He also couldn't tell from Eddie's tone whether or not he was happy about this whole thing, so he just said, "yeah..?"

Eddie jumped back out and hugged Steve tightly, and then gave him a wet kiss on the cheek, "thank you."

Steve, who was utterly confused, pushed Eddie away a bit, examining his face, "are you okay?"

Eddie beamed, "of course I'm okay! my van is clean and smells like you, and you did this all for me. I honestly don't deserve you, Stevie."

"What??" Steve threw his hands, "I thought it'd piss you off! I did that to piss you off! why aren't you pissed off??!"

Eddie was the one confused now, "why would I be pissed off? also, why would you even want to piss me off in the first place?" he crossed his arms and tapped his bare foot on the gravel, trying to erase the amused expression off his face.

"Because," Steve opened, "You always annoy me and tease me about how me cleaning my car every week is pointless, so I thought you just hate clean cars altogether, so I decided to clean yours. You're supposed to be pissed because you think clean cars are pointless." He finished and crossed his arms too, mirroring Eddie.

Eddie started laughing, loud and hard, and came to hug Steve again, "Gosh, Stevie, my sweetheart, I love your clean car. I love how you're so tidy, I love to see how the kids subconsciously copy you and clean after themselves, I love how you always put everything back in place, I love how there are never dirty dishes in your sink, and never piles of dirty clothes waiting to be washed. I love how you mindlessly pick up my stuff around my room and dust the record player, I love how you change my bedsheets. If anything, me picking on you for cleaning your car was out of pure jealousy. I wish I was a bit more like you. I know we never take my car because it's so messy, but I wish I could drive you some places without feeling bad about the way it smells," Steve made a face and Eddie giggled, "Okay, I don't have to drive, but thanks to you, we actually can take the van now. It's a lot more compatible for road trips and camping. We can do those things now." He smiled and Steve smiled too.

"I'm sorry I did it behind your back..." Steve said looking down and Eddie held his chin back up.

"No, it's for the best. I don't think I'd be able to handle the embarrassment, seeing the condition of this car," he made a disgusted face, "thank you for bringing it back to a normal state. I promise I'll try to keep it as clean as I can." He put a hand on his heart and Steve released a chuckle.

"Yeah, okay," He raised an eyebrow, "or you can just ask me to do that, I actually do enjoy it."

Eddie rolled his eyes and pushed Steve into the van, "I still don't believe that, Stevie boy."

He started the car and they drove off, with Steve holding onto his seat and begging Eddie to slow down.