#this party i did not KNOW it was a pool party so i got thrown in with jeans and all but i got super drunk and everyone was kinda drunk and

[woahajimes]

i feel such an incredibly frustriating yearn

[hollandsfavbabe]

Wet & Wild

pairing: art donaldson x reader

synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life

warnings: smut build up, porn with a plot, making out, cursing, frat party, art being stupid, happy ending dw, two parts because I cannot condense my writing for the life of me

word count: 4.0k

masterlist

“Swimmers…”

You curled your fingers around the rough end of the diving board, unconsciously holding your breath as you readied for the starting noise. The pool glinted below you, reflecting light from the glaring sun above that sparkled like the blue glitter polish on your toenails. But you ignored it, blocking out anything that wasn’t the signal as you lowered your neck.

“Take your marks…”

There it was. You tensed as the official hovered her finger over the mic button. She was about to send you off and there could be no hesitation once she did. Any second now.

“GO!”

You were already under as the crowd started cheering. Two laps,100 meters, that’s all that it took and you had already conquered a quarter of the length by the time you came up for your breakout strokes. You cut through the smooth pool surface leaving white water waves in your wake. You tried not to let your gaze stray anywhere away from the tiled black line at the bottom of the pool as you felt the competition slipping behind you.

As the wall comes into view at the other end of the 50 meter pool, you take your first breath of the race and pause your strokes for only a second to perform a nearly perfect flip turn. You only have one more length back before it’s over and you can claim the medal that is rightfully yours as you come up from your last breakout. Arms pulling and legs kicking almost frantically, you’re almost there, so close you can sense the touch pad waiting for you at the end. You zoom past the flags and…

“I can’t believe I lost by less than two tenths of a second!” you groan, taking a swig from the Heineken one of your teammates had handed you when you arrived earlier. More than 12 hours had passed since your race and yet you couldn’t stop thinking about your unexpected loss. It had plagued you still as you had made your way to the party a random fraternity had thrown, though your team considered it a celebration after the Stanford swim team took home another champion title. It was small in comparison to the larger meets you had won in the past, but it was a reason to stay out past the curfew your coach imposed on you. And any reason to stay out was good enough for you.

“You’re not actually upset about that, are you?” Chloe asked, one of your teammates who competed in the endurance free events. While you would consider yourself close to nearly every girl who swam with you, Chloe was more of an instant best friend.

You shake your head as she sips on her own beer. Unlike you, she had opted for a brand with a higher alcohol percentage as she was unafraid of hangover ridicule that inevitably awaited her at your next morning practice.

“Of course not. You know me, winning is only a plus. I just can’t believe I got so close to the record!”

It was true. You didn’t so much mind losing the first place prize to the opposing team in such an insignificant meet. What really had you grinding your teeth was the fact that you had only been a half of a second away from the official Stanford record. You weren’t sure where you lost that time in your race, whether it was one of your two breaths or if you needed to dive further out, but you were set on remedying every part of your race until the problem was solved. Your next meet was only a week away and unlike this one, it would be a much bigger deal.

“You got that girl,” Chloe assured you, patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “Half a second ain’t nothing for you.”

“I hope so. I’m not missing any more practices until I get it.”

Your conversation was disrupted as the room suddenly erupted in cheers, people gathering around the entrance as newcomers entered. You turned your head towards the noise, searching for whoever could elicit such a response.

You caught sight of him right away, a man you had never seen before though immediately prayed you’d never lose sight of. He was tall, his head covered in light blonde curls that were well trimmed to not hang over his hooded eyes. He was attractive, no doubt, but there was more to him than looks. There had to be. Anybody had to be more than attractive to get applause in a place like Stanford, especially within the frat parties.

“Who is that?” you nudged Chloe in his direction. She was normally more up to date than you on the campus celebrities as she didn’t get swallowed up by her swimming commitments as often as you. Chloe nearly choked on her drink as she saw him, turning back to you with a befuddled expression.

“You don’t know Art Donaldson? He’s like the most promising tennis student to ever play here.”

You furrowed a brow, staring at Chloe as if she had said something incredibly stupid.

“Do I look like I watch fucking tennis?” you gestures to your hoodie that clearly bore the words ‘Stanford Swimming and Diving’.

“Let me put it this way,” Chloe started, unoffended as always. “He’s already won the Junior US Open in the doubles category. He got second in the singles and at the rate he almost qualified for the real thing.”

“What’s stopping him?” You asked, looking back in the direction of the man who had now settled on the dance floor with a drink. You sensed a catch in Chloe’s explanation.

“That.”

Chloe pointed to the only television in the house that was conveniently showing a rerun of one of the man’s, Art’s, matches which from the date you could tell happened the same time as your meet. He was amazing, more skilled than any of the few players you had ever watched before, but even you, someone who knew nothing about tennis, could tell that he was playing like something was holding him back. Every ball out of his reach skirted to the fence behind him until he eventually lost. You couldn’t understand how a Junior US Open champion could miss shots that were arguably hard, but reasonable for a professional. There had to be more to it than what lay on the surface and as a swimmer you couldn’t stop the urge to dive in deeper.

“Oh no,” Chloe smirked. She knew you too well to miss when you were after something you wanted. And you weren’t sure by which mystical force you were being pulled, but you started to gravitate away from her. “You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna do a walk around.” you promised, standing from your couch seat beside her, though you were both certain she wouldn’t see you again until practice the next day.

“Good luck.”

You were careful not to approach him directly, instead jumping into a conversation with a couple of your teammates who happened to be chatting in his vicinity. After several minutes of receiving congratulations for your attempt at the record, the group surrounding Art had finally dispersed leaving him alone with his drink on the floor. Lucky for you, by the time he was without a crowd to bypass, your group had moved on to much more nonsensical topics. It was then, by chance or fate as you believed, that he just so happened to bump into you, forcing your drink out of your hand and his attention onto you.

The glass of your Heiniken sank to the group, shattering into a million dazzling pieces of green glass, but you were able to block it out with the focus of a swimmer as you felt his stare on you.

Through the flashing lights you were able to make out the shape of his face better, mapping out sharp jawlines and chiseled cheekbones. You decided then you preferred this Art, the one who smiled at you anxiously over his moving body on the tennis channel and by the slight intrigue on his face, you could tell he felt similarly.

“I’m so sorry,” he professed, looking down at the mess of glass behind you before his blue eyes again met yours “You okay?” He had to shout over the loud music, guilt evidently rushing through him as if he had shoved you to the ground rather than accidentally causing you to drop your nearly empty bottle.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Art, right?”

Art nodded, leaning in closer to you so that he could hear you over the blaring club music.

“Do I know you?” he asked, in awe that you knew his name as if it wasn’t being broadcasted all over the Stanford sport program.

“Not yet,” you laughed, pointing to the screen where you had just seen him, watching as a wave of embarrassment washed over him as they replayed the portion of the match where he lost it all, unbeknownst to you. “I was watching your game. You’re really good.”

“You play?”

“Not tennis.” you gestured to the logo on your hoodie, hoping the disco lighting wasn’t enough to distort the clear waves of the swimming logo. 

“Oh wow,” he marveled. “I didn’t even know we had a swim team.”

“What can I say? My sport’s not quite as popular as yours.” you shrugged, shooting him a smile.

“We’ve really gotta get you another drink.” Art pointed out as he took a swig of his own beer.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I just have to take care of this first.”

You turned around to the glass mess that waited for you only to find that your teammates had already handled it in the time you had spent getting introduced to Art, leaving the two of you plenty of time to get acquainted, mess free. You caught sight of them across the room sitting next to Chloe, smirking at you as you looked their way. You rolled your eyes at the sight.

Art had his arm offered out to you when you turned back to him, a guarantee that the two of you wouldn’t get separated on the floor as you headed into the kitchen. It’s there that the seconds fade into elongated hours as you get to know more about each other. You told Art all about your life on the team and why swimming was your calling out of all sports while he spilled to you every tennis affiliated memory from his childhood where you learned he attended a special boarding school for the sport. You made note of his humility as he never once mentioned his success on the Junior US Open and the high level he can play.

You finish the soda Art had gotten for you as the music in the main room increases in volume, forcing you to crane your neck in order to talk in his ear, leaning in so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s not much taller than you, but it’s enough to make a difference.

“I can’t hear anything with this music,” you admitted, speaking at a timbre that’s loud enough to be audible to Art without bursting his eardrums. “Do you wanna move somewhere else?”

You knew Art was joining you when he looked at you with consideration. But it was impossible for you to know exactly what he was thinking, staying ignorant to the fact that he supposed after losing his match and an evening with Tashi due to another scheduled Patrick reappearance, what did he have left to lose? He wouldn’t normally do this, but you look like the perfect contender for a brand new game.

“Let’s go upstairs.” he nodded towards the stairs to your left, accepting your invitation. “It won’t be as loud up there.”

And so you both made your way up the frat house staircase, passing by closed door after closed door until you finally found a vacant bedroom. While you don’t know who lives there, it was tidy enough for you to neglect caring as you followed Art inside and shut the door behind you. 

“I don't think I ever caught your name, by the way.” Art stated as he took a seat on the bed in the center of the room, leaving a space for you beside him..

“Oh, I didn’t say.” you chuckled in realization as you sat beside him, your name falling from your lips as you met the lumpy mattress.

“And this is your reward party?” he wondered, a thought you can’t help smiling at as you shake your head.

“Definitely not,” you took another swig from your bottle. “I don’t think there’s any real reason behind this besides to fuel college memories. If anything, they’d be celebrating you. You’re like famous right?”

Art’s gaze moves to the shag carpet below as he shakes his head of blonde curls, disappointment shrouding his face.

“Not quite,” he disagreed, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I don’t know if you saw the whole thing, but my match today wasn’t anything to celebrate.”

“Why not?”

“Because I lost.”

He stated it like it was obvious which only confuses you as a swimmer. All the work and dedication he must put into his sport all to think there was no yield. You couldn’t imagine basing your pride off of winning and winning alone when there were so many other components to competing.

“So?”

He’s startled by your nonchalance towards losing, something so foreign to him it isn’t even a refreshing take.

“So?” he repeated. “So I failed today. I let my team down. I let Tashi down.”

Tashi. You’ve definitely heard that name before. Though you don’t know much about the inner workers of tennis, everyone and their mother in the state of California knows who Tashi Duncan is. She’s the most famous person on campus, in and out of the tennis world. You didn’t know her personally, only ever seeing her when walking between classes. You also knew she had a boyfriend who didn’t attend Stanford from seeing them eating together. There had always been something off about her and now, with Art beside you in full self-deprecation mode, you figured you were about to find out exactly what it was.

“Is that who you were looking at?” you asked, piecing together that she must’ve been in attendance at his match. He immediately tensed at the mention, surprised you caught the simple detail. “I saw during your match. You looked like you were distracted.”

“It wasn’t just her,” he shook his head. “One of my oldest friends just flew for the weekend. He was there with her.” he paused. “They both saw me fail.”

“I’m sure they were both proud of you.” you assured, but Art was quick to set you straight as his friends didn’t operate the same way yours did.

“No, you don’t get it. I’m nothing if I don’t win.”

“Well it’s okay, you can just try again next time.”

“It doesn’t work like that. That’s not what tennis is about.”

You sensed a planted ideology in his evaluation, causing you to probe further.

“Really? So tennis isn’t just hitting balls with rackets over and over?”

“It’s more than that,” he informed you, taking no offense from your lack of knowledge. “It’s a relationship. It’s about the fight between two people. The back and forth until someone comes out on top. And even then the winning, it’s not nearly as important as the match. I didn’t just lose today, I let the crowd down. And my opponent won without the intensity of a good match. All because of me.”

You quieted as he explained, placing a careful hand on his shoulder as he finished. You felt for him, absorbing his sorrows like a therapeutic sponge, but it didn’t take a tennis expert to understand that bullshit behind his dogma. It sounded more like a manipulation technique than anything, all stemming from the same source.

“Did Tashi tell you that?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if your statement was any more outrageous than the lies he had been fed.

“It’s the truth.” he answered.

You weren’t sure how to get across to him, if it was even possible to crash through the wall of his beliefs in the first place, but you knew you had to try. It wasn’t right for him to harbor such disappointment over a match that did nothing to disprove his skill at his sport.

“Okay,” your voice softened as you thought of a way to challenge his theories. “Let’s change the subject. How about I tell you how swimming works?”

“Isn’t it more of the same?” he sighed, still overcomplicating his loss.

“Actually it’s very different.” you corrected.

“What do you mean?” Art asked, looking at you with the utmost intrigue.

“What if I told you that even the losers in swimming end up winning?”

Incredulous of the possibility, Art waited for further explanation.

“See like tennis, we have the players and of course only one person in each race can come out on top, but it’s not about beating the other players. Once you’re out there, it’s just you and the water. That’s the only relationship. It doesn’t matter where anyone else is, beside you, behind you, that’s not what’s not important. All that matters is how well you swim and if you lost a few seconds on the time board. Everything else is lost to the waves. And if your time is the fastest well, that’s just one big fucking bonus.”

Art sat with your words, unable to reply as he processes the possibility of winning as a loser. It’s almost too hard to imagine. You leaned closer to him, breath catching as his eyes moved down to your lips and one of his hands gently gripped your thigh.

“Really?” he asked.

You nodded, your faces so close now that your nose nudged his own.

“I didn’t win today either,” you whisper to him. “But my team screamed when I touched that wall. And do you know why?”

He waited for you to explain, eyes fluttering close for only a second as you laid a palm on his shirt, feeling the hard muscle that lay beneath. Your hands trailed to his sleeves, settling his bare skin a blaze as you take in his equally sturdy biceps.

“I almost beat a school record today. First time in 30 years if I had done it.”

“There’s no records like that in tennis.” he countered, but there was uncertainty in his tone. As if he was waiting for you to further back this new perspective. As if he was really starting to believe it.

“Then maybe you should take a page out of my book. Leave tennis in the past for now and focus on what’s here, in the present…” your lips brush over his before you mutter, “... focus on me.”

You're not entirely sure who initiated it, but before either of you could get out another word, his lips were on yours. You dove head first into the kiss, his lips melting against yours as you swipe your tongue out to catch the lingering taste of cheap beer at the edge of his parted mouth. It’s all so soft, like two cracked dolls who want nothing more than to break for the other until the intensity reaches its peak and you could feel microscopic beads of sweat forming at your brow.

Art pulled you in closer, gentle hands moving to your waist as the faint vocals of California Gurls played distantly in the background. His fingers curled into your sides, worming their way under the hem of your hoodie as they gave way to underlying desire, sparking every inch of your skin that they came into contact with.

You sighed as his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Pausing the kiss, he tipped his head back to jerk ever so lightly on your lip before allowing it to snap back into place and at once you crashed back into mouth, kissing him with a fervor you don’t remember ever feeling this intensely. Every movement, every change in the pace all worsened the heat igniting within you.

You tugged on the blonde roots of his curls that rest closest to his neck and soon enough you felt Art’s needy fingers claw at the waist back of your black athletic shorts. Though you're in desperate need of relief from the growing pool of desire at your core, you knew it was time to pull back. Art didn’t let you go so easy, his lips chasing after yours once you’ve broken the kiss, but it’s no use. You knew you couldn’t do this, at least not tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Art whispered against your lips, automatically assuming that it was his own fault rather than an independent decision of your own. It was certainly too intimate for a man you’d only just met, but you have to cup his cheek to keep from breaking as his own hands part from your skin.

You told him some form of the truth, that you didn’t think the timing was right. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you were dying to sneak another taste of his lips in and give him everything he’s ever wanted right there and then. But you couldn’t. Not when you know that it’s just another match. A distraction from Tashi. Especially not when you know that it didn’t have to be.

“We can’t do this here.”

Art face fell at your words, but he’s never been one to give up so easily.

“Then let’s go back to my place.” he offered, hoping it was just the atmosphere of the party that alarmed you. He wasn’t ready for you to leave.

“No, not tonight.” you frowned apologetically. “Not while you’re playing tennis.”

He stared at you in utter confusion as you stood up from your place beside him, dusting off your clothes as if you hadn’t been enjoying him all along. He didn’t understand the reasons behind your sudden switch, but he’s willing to risk it all in the heat of the moment.

“You want me to quit.” he suggested as if it’s a solution both of you are comfortable with. You turned back to him disturbed, shaking your head wildly at the proposal.

“Of course not, Art, you know that’s not what I mean,” you began, gathering an explanation that you hope will convey your reasons without making him feel like a complete piece of shit. “I don’t know what Tashi told you, but to me it sounds like she expects a winner. She’s programmed you into believing the player doesn’t matter without a title.”

You stepped an inch in his direction, close enough that you can see even the smallest details of his face, but not enough for him to touch you again.

“…but she’s forgetting that without the player, winner or loser, there is no title. Without a foundation, there is no relationship between you and the other player. And nobody can succeed if they’re scared of failure.” you explained further. You knew your words resonated with Art as his gaze turned to the stained carpet of the bedroom, but he had to pass the ball back.

“Well, you said it yourself, you don’t know Tashi.” he fired back, and you knew it’s only the tennis talking.

“You know I’m right.”

Art was silent, only proving your point. You knew you had to leave, but you had to promise him a second meeting, for him and for yourself. You wouldn’t be blocked from a happy ending by wrong timing.

“Come to my meet next weekend,” you invited him. “It’s the biggest one of the year. You should see how other sports operate.”

“I can’t see you before then?”

You almost smiled at the confirmation that his frustration wasn’t directed towards you.

“I have practice,” you shrugged. “- and so do you. You can see me again at my meet and in the meantime, just think about what I said. And know that you’re more than a loser, Art.”

You left without another word, shutting the door while silently cursing yourself for not taking the opportunity while you had it. It was very possible that you would never see the tennis star again, that every spark you felt with him in your first hour of knowing him was entirely one sided. You prayed it wasn’t true, that he had shown some feelings in return, but only time would tell. In exactly one week, you would be certain.

part two out now!!!

[freshxsturniolo]

4th july pt2! - chris sturniolo x fem!reader

pt1 here

“that chris by any chance?” your best friend tara says as she finally jumps into bed. you’re staying the night at jake, johnnies and carringtons place and you’re wrapped tightly under the duvet in their spare room. tara has been running around still with the three boys, but as soon as your phone altered you to that first text, you’d excused yourself.

you smirk as you look at her and she gives you an eyebrow raise.

“i didn’t know you were talking to him like THAT” she says now. “when i saw him spinning you around in the pool i thought nothing of it until i saw his hands on your ass.”

a laugh escapes you, your head sinking into your pillow as tara leans forward to hold your arm, laughing with you.

“i’m serious” she choked out. “i didn’t say a thing to anyone thinking i’d leave you both to it until you started practically fucking in the pool”

“tara!” you squeal. “we weren’t fucking in the pool!”

she laughs, that signature tara yummy laugh, and then rolls her eyes. “okay maybe i was being dramatic there but, jesus, he looks like a good kisser”

you chuckle slightly, “he is.”

“you could have invited him back here ya know, jake wouldn’t have mind. i could have slept somewhere else”

you’re listening but sending across your last text to chris, butterflies in your stomach at the flirting once again that now felt much deeper before shutting your phone off and placing it under your pillow, turning round to face tara.

“he wants to take me for dinner tomorrow”

tara eyes go wide. “oh fuck. wait. so this is more than just -“

she stops as she doesn’t know how to explain it, but you know exactly what she means. yes, for now, this is defiantly more than a one night stand. at least, you secretly hope. his words of being respectful could all be a plot. you might have dinner tomorrow and realise that actually, you’d be better off as friends. but for now, entertaining a thought of something more with chris sturniolo was making you giddy.

“yeah. i think so” you confirm.

tara slaps her head back onto the pillow and looks up at the ceiling.

“you did look cute together, im not gonna lie”

you smile as your mind goes back to the party just a few hours ago. you’re still drunk now, but after you’d got out the pool the drinking slowed down.

you had stayed in the pool for only a short while after, your hair and make up completely ruined yet you didn’t have a care. outfit completely soaked through. but the entire time you couldn’t deattach your lips. it’s like all that flirting and lack of alone time together had bought a force over you that neither of you knew how to stop. but when you realised you were the only two in the pool, you pulled him out. hand in hand.

your friends had noticed by that point, and a few typical claps and cheers erupted from them, which in your drunken state had only made you laugh. as tara had suggested, no one knew you and chris were actually talking as much as you were and you knew everyone around you thought it was just a drunken kiss. but as the night went on and you both changed, jake nice enough to let chris raid his wardrobe for some comfier and none wet clothes, you changing into your overnight clothes you’d already bought, you couldn’t stay away from each other once more.

the party continued on behind you, but you stayed firmly close to chris. he’d thrown on a pair of black ed hardy shorts that jake had no intention of ever wearing and you were in your short pyjama bottoms, and at every single moment from then your skin was touching. it started as sitting back in the circle you left, legs crossed and knees touching. which led to the occasional arm touch as you laughed at each others jokes. that lead to you leaning into him as you got tired, to eventually sitting inbetween his legs, his chest as a back support as he lay his chin atop your head as you spoke to the people around you. his hands around your waist and your hands clasped against his.

when it was time to leave, you made him promise to text when he got home as you walking him to the front door, but it was only second before he was pushing you against the wall. his hands under your jaw as your kiss deepened, and at one point you where sure that actually, scrap the dinner, he was going to end up staying the night or taking you home, before he finally pulled away, a breathless “i’ll see you tomorrow” escaping his lip before he turned to meet his brothers in the car.

you had not felt this way in a long time. had never had a guy treat you like an actual human being and not just someone to get into bed. so yes, tomorrow couldn’t come quick enough. hangover or no hangover, you were excited to spend some time with him.

"do you like him?" tara says now, looking at you, and you give her a smile.

"its too early to say, isn't it?" you ask, and tara rolls her eyes.

"im assuming you agreed to dinner tomorrow?"

"yes"

she laughs. "so yes. you like him. when was the last time you went to dinner with somebody?"

and you're laughing too, because deep down you know that chris might most defiantly become more than just a few dates.

tagged : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss

[wandaslittlebird]

As The Summer Ends

Wanda x Natasha x Reader

As the summer comes to a close, you and your girlfriends celebrate with one more day in the sun.

CW: Pure fluff, R calls WandaNat Mama/Daddy but only like once.

Word Count: 1.3k(ish)

A/N: Happy last day of summer everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful season, and you’re all excited to see what wonders the fall brings.

It was your first year ever attending Pepper Potts’ yearly “end of the summer” pool party: the celebration she had every year the day before it was time to cover the pool for the winter. You’d been invited as Wanda and Natasha’s plus one, as you still didn’t really know Pepper, or anyone else in attendance.

Much to your dismay, none of the other women seemed too eager to actually be in the pool. In fact, aside from you, Natasha was the only other person in the water. And she wasn’t even swimming. She was leaned up against the side of the pool talking to Maria.

Sure it was a little cold, as it was late September and there was a growing chill in the air, but you never got to go swimming. You did so love the water.

Wanda’s heart swelled with affection as she watched you from a beach chair, flopping around the water like a fish. Your child-like nature knew no bounds. You didn’t seem to have a care in a world about what the adults around you were doing, despite being one yourself. You swam laps around the pool, did handstands in the water, dove off the side and swam to the bottom of the deep end. You seemed to be keeping yourself entertained well.

However, as time wore on, Wanda could see you getting restless. You tried to join Natasha and Maria’s conversation, but they didn’t seem interested. Wanda frowned as she watched you try to talk, only to be ignored and talked over by her wife and her friend. Your joyful disposition cracked into one of isolation as you slowly began to feel like an outsider in this group of people.

She huffed, tempted to go over and have a word with Natasha about ignoring you. But, as she remembered how much you had had playing in the water, she got a better idea. She sat down on the lip of the pool, putting her feet into the cool water.

“Honey!” she shouted, making you turn your head as you popped up out of the water. She curled her fingers, beckoning you towards her. Obediently, you stopped everything you were doing to join her on the edge of the pool, laying your head on your hands next to her to avoid getting her wet.

“Yes?” you asked, innocently looking up at her from the water.

She lifted your head and bent over to whisper in your ear. “If you can knock Tasha over in the water, I’ll get you ice cream on the way home.”

You nervously turned around to find Natasha where she’d been this whole time, talking to Maria by the side of the pool. Her top half was completely out of the water. She hadn’t even gotten her hair wet. “But she’s talking to Maria. It would be impolite to-” you attempted to explain.

She cut you off with a soft smile. “Don’t worry, little love. I’m sure their conversation is drier than a sack of flour anyway. Go make your daddy actually have some fun.” She winked, lightly pinching your cheek.

A smile slowly grew across your face as you turned away from Wanda. You planned your approach carefully, deciding to launch yourself off the side wall and throw yourself into the back of her knees as hard as you possibly could.

Natasha stumbled as you knocked against her, immediately annoyed. “What the-” She glanced down at you in the water, then up at Wanda, smirking smugly by the side of the pool. She rolled her eyes and picked you up out of the water.

You squealed as you were caught, disappointed but not surprised that your first attempt had failed.

“Hold on, Maria,” Natasha joked. “I gotta teach this little punk a lesson.” You tried to squirm out of her grasp, but you were quickly thrown ass over head into the deep end of the pool.

You squealed again with excited delight. Wanda smiled, watching as you quickly turned tailed to go for Natasha’s feet again. Once again, you were dragged out of the water and tossed back into the deep end. Natasha had no difficulty dexterously dodging your attempts to knock her down, but you didn’t even really care to be losing the bet. It was reward enough to finally have somebody to play with, even if you were devastatingly out matched.

You were getting out of breath after a few rounds of fighting Natasha just to be effortlessly tossed back into the water again. You grabbed at the side of the pool, breathing heavy. Natasha was laughing now too, enjoying your frazzled and breathless face. She was glad that Wanda could at least pick a game that took way more energy out of you than her.

You turned around, ready to make another pass at Natasha. You didn’t actually think you'd ever be able to knock her down, but you liked it when she threw you into the water. You grabbed at her legs again. However, this time, before she could grab you and pull you out of the water, you saw two scarlet tendrils wrap around her ankles. She shouted before she was quickly pulled under the water.

You stood up, a little dazed, to find Natasha coming out of the water as well, completely and utterly soaked. Her nicely curled hair was now flat and wet against her head.

“You got her!” Wanda laughed.

“Oh it’s on,” Natasha challenged, quickly making her way to the end of the pool, where Wanda sat. Before she could reach her, though, she was wrapped with more scarlet tendrils that hoisted her out of the water, carried her to the deep end of the pool, and dropped her in.

You shrieked with joyous surprise, making your way back to Wanda as well. She let you approach, knowing that, unlike Natasha, you would never dream of pulling her into the water. “Mama, can you throw me next?”

Wanda’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You want me to throw you in the water like Tasha?”

You nodded eagerly.

She wrapped you up in her magic, pulling you from the water and carrying you across the pool. You giggled as the magic disappeared and you were dropped into the water.

Natasha climbed out of the water, grabbing a towel and drying herself off before sitting down next to Wanda. She laughed as you eagerly swam all the way back to them, looking up at Wanda expectantly.

“Again?” Wanda chuckled.

You nodded, laughing uncontrollably as she picked you again and threw you into the water. She went a bit higher this time, not dropping you until you were a good ten feet above the water.

She threw you a few more times, changing her tactics a little every time. Sometimes she dropped you in upside down. Other times she would hold you still above the water while you waited in anxious anticipation to be dropped. You were roaring with excitement and laughter the whole time.

It wasn’t long before you were completely and utterly spent, physically exhausted from all the swimming. Natasha stood next to the steps, a fluffy towel in her outspread arms. You breathlessly climbed up into her arms, allowing yourself to be dried off.

Wanda made a space for you to sit in between her legs. You happily sat down, putting your feet back into the water as she pulled you so your back was flush to her front. You cuddled into her tiredly.

Somebody tapped your shoulder from behind. You turned your head to find Pepper, holding a waffle cone with chocolate ice cream. “I heard ice cream was on the line. And it looks like you won the bet.”

You smiled and took the ice cream, eagerly licking at it before it could melt in the sun. “Thank you, Mrs. Potts.”

“Of course, kiddo,” she said, playfully ruffling your hair.

Wanda laughed as you proceeded to get the ice cream all over your face. She periodically wiped it away with a towel.

You would miss days like this as the air grew colder. There would be no more pool days, no more opportunities to comfortably spend the days outside in the sun. But fall brought new excitement of its own.

You could only hope you’d be tucked between these same arms by the fireplace come winter.

[perfctvelvet]

I love love loved thé Jenna ortega fic, could we get a p2 plzzzzzzzz?????

Endless Summer; Jenna/Reader

Summary: Jenna is back for the Summer, but this time Y/n changes her approach.

Content: 2nd POV. Infidelity, reader's softer/nicer side comes out, angst (with a happy-ending), kissing, fingering (reader receiving), teasing.

It's the hottest day of the year on record. People from the neighborhood were either laid out by the pool, baking in the sun, or inside under the blast of cold air. Summer was never your favorite season. Sure it's branded as the time of year when all the fun can be had but all it did was cause agitation and weird pressure to always be having fun.

The arguments in the family home were frequent during the summer time. Your parents argued as if you and brother were still little kids that they had to find a way to entertain. Usually the two of you would bond of your shared annoyance, but this year was different. Maybe one of your parents passed down the arguing gene because your brother was fighting with his girlfriend nearly everyday.

You were surprised that Jenna was still around. You were even more surprised that she would agree to spend the entire Summer with your family. It doesn't seem possible that that little situation you two had hasn't crossed her mind since. Surely she would expect it to be way too awkward to be around you, but she agreed to come anyway. Neither of you had really spoken to each other, and it's not because you still dislike her. How would anybody be able to talk to her when she was constantly fighting with your brother? Your parents...well at least they were married. Your brother and Jenna's relationship barely cracked the one year mark and they were bickering like an old married couple. Day in and day out someone in this house was furious and it made your head spin. You were always marked as the "moody" one who wasn't happy with any decision, but after this Summer, you deserve an apology!

"Well turns out we won't be going to the state fair because you father agreed to work a Saturday!"

"Okay, it's not a big deal, mom. Plus last time we went everyone got food poisoning from that hot dog stand. Remember?"

"Whatever...I'm going to the mall."

She stormed out with her purse thrown over her shoulder and a box of Marlboro Reds in the other. You don't know when she picked up the habit of smoking, but the grey hairs and extra lines in her face gave it away that she was stressed as hell. Both of the relationships you were surrounded by this Summer gave you zero hope and only affirmed your hook-ups-only behavior. Seeing everyone, especially your parents, crash and burn in these tightly wound relationships made you adverse to them. Maybe you could find someone to work it out with and leave harmoniously, but you aren't going to hold your breath for that moment.

Not even five minutes later after your mother's dramatic exit, your brother cam e bolting down the stairs, a complaint about Jenna on his lips. It was like the universe was giving you sign after sign.

"She can be such a bitch sometimes."

"Hey! Don't call her a bitch!"

"Oh so now you like Jenna?"

"It doesn't matter if I like her or not, don't call another woman a bitch in front of me!"

Sometimes you just wanted grab your brother by the ear and twist it in the same manner you would when you two were both ten years younger. Your parents had problems, albeit ones that could be solved with more communication, that were valid. Paying for a mortgage, other expenses, and your brother's college would cause anyone to crack. That was a lot of pressure for most people. They're getting older, crankier, and their patience has worn thin after raising two kids for more than two decades. You could see why they argued. Your brother and Jenna however were just kids. What would they even fight about? Where they're going to eat tonight? Who's party their attending? They seemed so young and naive compared to the real world problems owned by your parents'.

"She's always on my ass about something. I already have a mom, I don't need another one."

"Okay, well what are you doing wrong?"

"Why do you assume it's my fault?"

"I don't know Isaac, maybe it's because I know you? I've only been here for three weeks and so far I've watched you leave her here to go hang out with your high school friends. Don't you think she feels a little isolated?"

"She can come with me if she just asks."

"Who wants to hang out with Jake and Billy? Do they still make fart jokes and play with that whoopie cushion? They're grown ass men in a twelve-year-old's body, who wants to be around them?"

He sighs in frustration before rubbing his face in his hands. Your little brother needed to face the music; he's not built for a relationship. And you're not just saying that because you have your own thoughts about Jenna.

"Okay well...maybe I don't want to be tied down," he sounds so unsure of himself as he speaks. He looks around to make sure his girlfriend is nowhere in sight before continuing. "I just sort of miss my freedom. I really like Jenna and she's a great girl, but maybe I'm just not ready to commit."

"College boys are never ready to commit," you laugh.

You've seen your fair share of college relationships end because one party wants to continue on partying and that is usually the guy in the relationship. It was kind of sad seeing your little brother going through the same thing.

"If you don't want to be with her, you need to tell her. Don't keep her here all Summer just to dump her when you go back to campus."

"I didn't say I wanted to dump her!"

"Okay well you need to figure out what you're going to do, or else you're going to spend the Summer making each other miserable!"

You could tell Isaac wanted this conversation to end. You were broaching a truth that was too hard for him to face right now.

"Whatever...I'll be back in about two hours."

They say daughters are more like their mothers, and sons their fathers, but that couldn't be more untrue in this household. Your brother was avoidant just like your mother. And while you picked up on some of those traits too, you found that you weren't like either of your parents. Maybe in the past you were, but that changed the day you told them your date to homecoming your sophomore year was another girl.

Now your mother is racking up the credit card bill at the mall, your brother is probably heading to his weird friend's house, and your father is God knows where. That leaves you alone in the house with Jenna. You had a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. Since that encounter with her you softened on Jenna. You were being a little bit of a bitch to her when she first came around and then you fucked her. You know you confused the shit out of her and that wasn't fair. You struggled to get the words 'I'm sorry' to come out of your mouth all of your life and it wasn't going to be easy now. But this was the first time you two were alone since that night. It's been months.

When you go upstairs to your brothers room you find that it's empty. You know she isn't downstairs, so they're is only one place she could be.

A week after that moment between you and Jenna, your mom found bikini bottoms in the jacuzzi. She called you to ask you about and you told her they were yours. They belonged to Jenna, but you didn't mind taking the blame. Surprisingly though she was didn't chew you out, but that resulted in her and you father moving it from the balcony to the backyard. It had been perfect on the balcony because it was so private, but now if you want to lounge in the hot tub you run the risk of one of the neighbors seeing you.

They replaced the jacuzzi with some lounge chairs thinking that their children wouldn't be enticed by some simple chairs. What they didn't understand that their balcony felt like an escape. It caught the breeze in the right way and faced away from the neighbors. It was relaxing and the perfect place to clear your head. And that's where you found Jenna.

She sat with her feet dangling over the concrete edge and she was holding onto the railing. You slid open the screen door and somehow she didn't hear it. You hated to disturb her, but you needed to talk to her.

"You know if you fall you can sue the shit out my parents. Maybe even pay off the rest of your college."

You try to lighten the mood but your joke falls flat when you see her face. She looks as if she's been crying with her eyes slightly puffy. Seconds later she turned away from you. You felt guilty despite not having done anything. You were on your best behavior, but you have this sinking feeling that you played some sort of role in everyone's agitation this Summer. So you join her as a way to keep her company.

"I heard everything."

"What do you mean?"

"I know Isaac wants to break up with me."

You heart drops at her confession. You didn't think about the possibility of her hearing the conversation you had with your brother. Now you feel awful.

"Jenna-"

"No, no, it's okay. At least you were defending me," she gives you a half-hearted smile. "I should've seen this coming though. He'd rather spend time with his boys than be with me no matter where we're at."

"Let me guess, he does this on campus too?"

Jenna nods her head in confirmation. You hate to bash your brother so you keep your mouth shut, but inside you're berating him for being so careless.

"Jenna, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. It's not your fault," she lets out a heavy sigh, one that makes your guilt feel deeper. "I called my parents, I'm going to be leaving next weekend. I'll break up with Isaac on Friday."

Everything about tonight has left you in a state of shock. The last thing you expected though was what just came out of her mouth. You felt remorseful that it had to get to this point, but largely you felt that way because you feel like your chance at a proper apology is now gone. To anyone else maybe it wouldn't matter since Jenna was going to be out of the picture anyway, but to you it did.

"Well if I can't be excuse my little brother's shitty behavior, then I can excuse mine. I wish I could change how things were between us last time."

"You mean you barely saying a word to me and then making me eat your pussy in a hot tub?"

You stared at her, mouth open in shock at how bold Jenna had become. She enjoyed seeing your reaction, finally feeling like she had the upperhand around you.

"I'm just messing with you," she continues. "I know I was probably annoying and coming off as a try-hard in the beginning. Now I just feel like there's not point anymore. I get a little sarcastic when I'm jaded."

"Well I would be a liar to say I'm not stunned by all of this, but in all honesty if you were like this from the beginning I've probably would've liked you instantly. I know that sounds shitty, but we're both making confessions today."

"Can I make another confession?"

"Go for it."

"I liked our night together. You were a little bit too mean for my liking, but I don't think I've felt the same amount of pleasure since."

You had called it the moment you two separated that night that Jenna wasn't use to sex like that. You smugly declared in your head that Jenna would be thinking about it over and over. Now that you've got confirmation about that after her telling you she's going to be leaving for good, you don't feel like taking victory laps. Instead you feel a little sad knowing this is going to be your last moment alone together. It was bittersweet.

"Well my confession about that night is that I thought about it my entire drive home. Knowing more about you know I guess I feel a little bit shitty about it and wish I could override it with another moment."

Jenna focused less on the confession of your internal feelings of shame and more on what was between the lines. You wanted another moment alone with her to do something similar but under a different circumstance. She was blinded by her own desire of needing someone to be there for her to stop herself from kissing you. Her night was suppose to end going to the beach tonight with Isaac to look at the stars, but instead it was going to end with her finding comfort in his sister.

Jenna's kiss was much more powerful than you expected. This side of her felt more true and honest than that happy-go-lucky girl she first met. You wish you'd seen right through that act and got through to her in a different way, even if she says she liked it. Her lips dance against yours in a bruising kiss. You feel her tongue poke at your lips and you let her in. You kiss her as if she was something more than just a hook-up because that's what she needs, and you need to feel better about yourself.

You feels her arms wrap around your neck when she fully turns her body to you. Her legs no longer dangle over the dangerous edge of the balcony. She presses her front into you and you hum in delight. She feels so warm and her lips taste so sweet, but it was a different flavor chapstick that she used this time. Everything about her seemed so different that you struggled to be in control. But, apart of you didn't care about who is or is not in control of the situation. You let things happen naturally, and it felt naturally to let Jenna guide you this time.

"I want you to take your shorts off," she says between kisses.

Each second passes and she seems more and more desperate for the affection. She was touched starved to say the least. You give her what she wants and slide off your lounge shorts without breaking her kiss. She presses into you once you're just in your panties and you yield. Your back meets the rug that replaced where the jacuzzi use to be. Her hand comes between your legs and she rubs your clit through your panties. You don't mean to break the kiss but you throw your head back and moan in delight.

"Fuck Jenna!"

She loved hearing your moans more this time because something about them sounded so different this time. She takes this moment to place her face in your neck and suck at your sensitive skin. She could feel you melting beneath her. You embraced every moment instead of shying away or trying to change anything. She keeps rubbing your clit just to feel your hips rise and legs shake. You can't keep yourself still because the pleasure is too good. A wet spot appears on your panties and you can feel just how sticky you are now. Your pussy was beginning for more attention instead of being touched behind a barrier of fabric. And Jenna could feel that.

Jenna slides her hands into your cotton panties and she moans feeling your slick against her hands. It makes her grow wetter in her own panties. She glides straight over your clit and her fingers slide into your pussy with ease. You let out a blissful sigh instead of a full blown moan. You love the feeling of her nimble fingers filling you up.

"You like that? You like that Y/n? You like me being on top and fucking you with my fingers?"

In that moment she wasn't your little brother's girlfriend, she was a girl who shared the same feelings as you. Fucking her in this capacity felt much more natural that you questioned whether she got with the right sibling.

You don't respond to her. You just close your eyes and let her fingers pump into you. She curls them inside of you and massages your sweet spot and you swear you're seeing stars. She pulls away from your neck to sit up and look down at you. She can see how hard your nipples are through your tank top and it makes her desire grow even more. She bends down again and catches the fabric between her teeth. Jenna exposes your tits and quickly takes your nipple into her mouth.

"Yea! Just like that! I really, really like that!"

You were desperate for release and Jenna loved that. It wasn't the control, but the fact that she was apart of something where both parties were excited for each other. So much with Isaac felt one-sided that it warped her perspective on what she wants. You weren't doing anything to her yet she felt like you were giving her so much.

"I want to make you cum," Jenna sounds just as desperate as you now. "I want you to cum for me, Y/n."

You nod your head fervently. It was like you were saying 'I'm sorry' over and over again and she was accepting the apology. She overwhelmed you with her fingers in your pussy, mouth on your tits, and now her thumb pressing against your clit. Your moans were turning into weak whimpers and you release all over her fingers. There was no room for embarrassment, just nothing but pure pleasure. Jenna, of all people, made you feel like you were in heaven. You wanted to show your gratitude for her, so instead of letting the post-orgasm lull hit you, you grabbed her face with both hands and crashed your lips against hers. It's been so long since you've kissed someone intensely or even felt like this. Everything feels so heightened that it makes sense you blurted out, "I want to eat your pussy," in between a heated kiss.

It was only fair that you ate her out, and you were more than happy to end up between her legs. She laid down where you once did and you pried her legs open. She wore a skirt and the smallest panties you've ever seen.

"Did you know this was going to happen?"

"It wasn't for you," she admits, "but I'm glad you're the only one who's ever seen me wear something like this."

The fabric was so thin that her pussy almost swallowed it. It left nothing to the imagination and it was interesting to see Jenna wear something like this. With cheap material like that, it was easy for you to rip it off of her body. She squeals in amusement and sits up so she can watch you take the first lick of her needy pussy. Instantly her taste floods your senses. You feel her hand intertwine with yours as you begin to move your tongue across every inch of her swollen pussy. You loved how she felt against your tongue and you cursed yourself for not doing this last time. You lick and suck at her, producing the lewdest sounds imaginable. You hope the sound doesn't care in the soft breeze, but you also don't give a fuck anymore. The only thing you could think about was Jenna. You rub the underside of her thigh with your other hand and keep her legs nice and spread for you. She can't pull her eyes away no matter how fast it makes her heart pump.

"Y-You're so good at this," she whines.

You had put your ego away to show that you were sincere, but it was like she was calling it to come out. Hearing her praise you only made you work her pussy some more. You wrap your mouth around her clit and suck on it. The attention makes her shake and grab onto the back of your head. She pushes your face into your pussy as if you would even dare to move away. You wanted to leave in this moment forever; the moment where you lick and suck her while she moans in pleasure for you. You hum against her wet pussy and that sends her overboard. You feel the flow of cum drench the lower half of your face and you don't pull away until you lick up every drop.

It was all the desire she still felt inside of her that made Jenna crash her lips against yours for one more sloppy kiss. Her cum mixes with both of your saliva in a lewd way. Jenna never gets this nasty during sex but she did not care just like you didn't.

The sun has completely dipped over the horizon before you two finally calm down. You lay with back flat against the rug, staring up at the sky while Jenna grabs the remnants of the panties you ripped off of her.

"I accept your apology, Y/n," she says as when she finally joins you, laying her body next to yours.

"Thank you."

It's the last thing you said to her with just the two of you alone. She didn't wait to Friday to break up with Isaac, in fact she did it the next day. Jenna took the dissolving her relationship easier than Isaac did. Your mother used it as an excuse to do something that wouldn't require everyone to join now that there was some awkwardness to that. She would take you and Jenna shopping to have "girl time" aka time where she could rant about your father and blow off some steam. It seemed weird that her now ex-boyfriend's mother was still being so kind to her even though she wasn't obligated to, but she embraced it. You and her didn't get to talk much over your mother's new stories of life, but that was okay. You don't think this is going to be the last time you see Jenna.

[scoonsalicious]

10.1 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language.

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: You saw Bucky's strength full force for the first time.

A/N: At my nephew's 3rd Birthday Party today. Pray for me.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

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Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You sighed in relief as Bucky waved a final goodbye and walked out the door. It wasn’t that you were happy to see him go… it was just that, well, you really couldn’t deal with the contents of this envelope with him there. You waited through the count of ten after he’d walked away before turning back to Zadie.

“The courier company, Zadie,” you said, your voice calmer now than it had been when you first walked out of your office. “I need to know which one it came from.”

Zadie bit her bottom lip in distress. “I’m… I’m sorry, Major,” she said. “I was checking in a group for a 1:30 session when it got dropped off. I wasn’t really paying attention. I’m sorry.”

You let out a frustrated breath of air. “It’s okay, Zadie,” you told her. “You didn’t know it would end up being important. And I’m sorry I yelled earlier. I just… well, I wasn’t expecting this and it’s thrown me for a loop.”

“Is everything okay?” Zadie asked, concern showing in her voice. “Is the business in any kind of trouble?”

You shook your head, wanting to relieve her of any worry that this had any impact on The WarZone. “No, no– everything’s fine on the business end. The stuff in the envelope is personal. I think I have an idea as to where it came from, but I need to be sure.”

“But you just told Sergeant Barnes it was business stuff,” Zadie insisted. 

“Yeah, yeah I did,” you conceded. “It concerns him, and I really don’t want him having to worry about it. At least until I have more facts.” You hated that you had lied to him about the contents of the envelope, but you would have hated the look on his face when he discovered what it was even more. 

Thanking Zadie and apologizing to her once more, you made your way back into your office. Once inside, you locked your door and dumped the contents of the envelope onto your desk. Dozens of reports and photos splashed across your workspace, each one depicting the horrific crimes of the Winter Solider in brutal detail. The final piece to fall from the envelope was a photo of Bucky, in full assassin gear, aiming a gun at the head of an unarmed older man, and in blocky all-caps lettering, the message to you: DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU’RE FUCKING?

You knew Bucky well enough by now to know how upset these documents would make him, how he would most likely pull away from you once he saw you knew the dirty details of his crimes, but you would never. You’d meant what you’d told him on your first real date– he was not the man responsible for these atrocities; and these anonymously sent pieces of paper wouldn’t change your mind.

However, there was someone out there who clearly thought they would. Someone who assumed you would be put off by the darkness in Bucky’s history. Someone who didn’t want you to see him anymore. Honestly, the pool of individuals who knew about your relationship with Bucky was so small, there weren’t many suspects. One, however, stood out more than the rest.

You moved around to your desk chair and sat down. Picking up your phone, you dialed Zadie at the front desk. 

“Hey, Zade,” you said when she answered. “Do me a favor and have Rand come see me when he gets back from lunch. I need to have a talk with him.”

*

You spent the next forty minutes trying to figure out where the documents came from, both in terms of what courier service delivered them and where the documents might have originated from. You were a bust on both fronts, unfortunately.

Your first step was to review the security cameras in the lobby for the time in question. You watched the courier enter the building and go to the reception desk, patiently wait for Zadie’s attention, then have her sign for the envelope. Unfortunately, there was no uniform or logo indicating what company the courier worked for. You knew you should have splurged to have cameras cover the outside front of the building, on off chance the courier had gotten into a marked vehicle, but you hadn’t thought the expense necessary at the time. 

As for the provenance of the documents themselves, well, that was also a dead end. Most of the files came from the archives of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division of the United States Government. You knew S.H.I.E.L.D. had suffered an intel leak back in 2014, and it appeared that everything that had been sent to you on the Winter Soldier’s crimes were a part of that leak or had appeared as evidence in Bucky’s trial, making all of it accessible to the public, if one cared enough to go digging and knew what they were looking for.

You squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the bridge of your nose, frustrated that you’d hit another brick wall. So much for finding proof. A knock on your door drew your attention and you checked your clock. Rand would have just gotten back from lunch a few minutes ago.

You stood up and walked to the door of your office, unlocking it. 

“Hey, Major,” Rand said a bit nervously. “Zadie said you wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, Rand, come in, please,” you said, motioning for him to enter and sit down. God, you really didn’t want to be having this conversation. He took the seat on the opposite side of your desk, and you sat down in your chair, folding your hands on the desk in front of you.

“I got your package,” you said, trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible.

Rand frowned in confusion. “What package?” So, he was going to play stupid.

“The envelope you had delivered to me this afternoon,” you said.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, Major. I didn’t have anything sent to you.” He seemed to consider something. “Fuck– should I have? Is it, like, your birthday or something?”

Wordlessly, you slid the envelope in question across the desk to him. He gave you a puzzled look and reached down, withdrawing the stack of papers within. You watched his eyes widen in shock and disgust as he flipped through them, one by one.

“You think I sent this to you?” he asked, affronted. “Seriously?”

You shrugged. “You’ve made your feelings about me seeing Bucky no secret,” you told him. “And you were downright rude to him when he came in earlier. I can’t think of anyone else who would be warning me about who I’m seeing.”

“Major.” Rand put the stack of papers down on top of your desk. “I may not like the guy, that’s true– but I respect the shit outta you. You’re a grown ass woman, capable of making your own decisions. I don’t necessarily agree with this one in particular, but it’s still your decision to make. Besides,” he leaned back in his chair, “in all the years we’ve known each other, when have I ever had a problem telling you you’re being a dumbass directly to your face?”

He was right– you’d known Rand for ages– you’d fought in the army together, and he’d never once shied away from giving you his opinions directly and frankly, no matter how blunt they might have been. An anonymous envelope and a cryptic warning were not the way he would go about doing it.

“Fuck,” you said, putting your head in your hands. “I’m sorry, Rand. You’re right. I just– shit. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he said, leaning across the desk and putting a hand on your elbow, “don’t be. I get why you would have thought it was me. I can’t say I disagree with whoever sent this, but doing it without putting their name on makes them a coward. If they have a problem with you and Barnes, they should come to you directly. None of this cloak and dagger bullshit.”

You didn’t want to think about there being multiple people out there who might have a problem with you and Bucky being together, but if it wasn’t Rand (and you now truly believed it wasn’t), you’d have to face that possibility. “Still,” you said, looking up at him, “I’m sorry for accusing you without any evidence.”

Rand shrugged. “Eh, I made myself look like a pretty good suspect,” he teased. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Major,” he said, standing up to go back to work. “If they can’t even be bothered to tell you their problem to your face, they’re not worth your worry. Hell, if you can’t be swayed by an old friend like me, I say don’t let this bother you at all.”

“Thanks, Rand,” you chuckled. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

Rand nodded as he made his way to the door. “If it’s any consolation,” he added before he walked out, “Barnes really does seem to like you a lot.”

You smiled to yourself as he left, vowing to not let the anonymous sender get to you. It was quite the consolation, actually.

Quite the consolation, indeed.

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[jen-with-a-pen]

Cocoon

summary: A chance encounter one night at a house party sparks the hottest hookup Bucky and Steve ever have.

parings: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

word count: 2.95k

warnings: BJs, hand stuff, partying, alcohol, drinking, making out in a bathroom at a houseparty, they're slightly intoxicated but it's all consensual I promise, gay gay gay gay, dirty talk, MDNI 18+

a/n: happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈 enjoy this WIP I've had brewing for a while now. also I love how i've been in another writing slump and the first thing I'm motivated to finish is some juicy gay p0rn. love that for me💅

If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know! not beta'ed. any mistakes are mine.

gif by @/multiverse-sparkles | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist title from: Cocoon by Catfish and the Bottlemen Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Bucky Barnes doesn't know which is harder.

There's Steve, who's rutting up against his leg like a puppy, whining, desperate for friction and freedom while drunk on whatever the fuck is in the communal jungle juice. Steve’s flannel is draped over the tub, thrown haphazardly aside when he felt too hot and Bucky felt it was getting in the fucking way. 

There's Bucky, who's straining every muscle in his body in an attempt to keep himself from unzipping his fly and freeing his throbbing cock that Steve is pawing at greedily. Sweat beads on his forehead, sticking strands of hair to his skin as hot breaths fan his face and neck. He realizes his ponytail came loose somehow and his leather jacket is strewn about somewhere on the tile floor. He thinks he feels it at the tip of his boot so he kicks it aside to avoid it getting stepped on. 

And then there's the goddamned door, which Steve slams Bucky up against the second Bucky’s teeth find Steve’s tender earlobe. It creaks and groans under their weight, not at all prepared for whatever the fuck is happening right now. 

Then again, neither are they. 

Neither of them expected to walk into some mutual-friend-of-a-mutual-friend’s house party itching to leave the moment they stepped foot into the isolated cloud of weed and booze that seeped into their nostrils and clothing within the first ten minutes. They hadn't expected their two very separate groups of friends to somehow miraculously know each other, using the kitchen as the location for some shoddy, un-sober family reunion. 

It wasn't until one side challenged the other to billiards did Bucky and Steve locked eyes with one another, instantaneously recognizing something in the way seafoam green meeting bright baby blue made them feel an immediate pull towards each other. Maybe it was Steve's a-little-too-big flannel, a-little-too-tight khakis, and soft blond hair shining in every shade of gold in the mixture of ever-changing LEDs and sporadically-placed table lamps. Or, maybe it was Bucky's slim, dark denim jeans hugging every muscle in the thickest thighs Steve’s ever seen, completed with a black T-shirt, leather bomber jacket, and messy ponytail with loose threads of chocolate hair that framed Bucky's face perfectly. Steve felt his Adam’s apple bob every time those strands fell perfectly into place when Bucky leaned just a little too forward onto the table to aim his pool cue, biceps fighting against leather as he lined up his shot. 

Steve about snapped his stick in half when Bucky’s eyes flicked up to his as he jerked the pool cue, sinking two solids in at once. Steve’s pants tightened on the spot.

Steve, however, sought revenge– and got it, too– when he was the one to sink a stripe, then another, and another. Bucky’s eyes darkened, a smirk ghosting his lips at the challenge and his very attractive, very worthy opponent. 

Bodies ganged up in cheers and chants as the two tangoed with their pool cues, taking riskier and riskier moves. Bucky took a shot behind his back. Steve made one over his shoulders. Each time, one would look to the other a millisecond before taking a shot as if silently seeking approval and finding it in the dragging of one’s tongue slowly along their teeth (Bucky) or in the raising of a cocky brow and biting one’s lip (Steve.) 

When the 8-ball was pocketed, shots passed from hand to hand through the crowd to quench the palpable tension in the basement air. Laughter and cheering erupted, echoing off the wood paneled walls. Downing another shot, Steve side-eyed Bucky as sour vodka dripped down his chin. His brow twitched when Bucky’s gaze flitted to the stairs then back to Steve– signaling, asking, begging. Steve’s sideways grin and reddening cheeks were all the ‘yes’ Bucky needed. 

And so, as Bucky bites down onto Steve’s swollen bottom lip and releases in a painfully slow drag of his teeth, Steve is the first to break their shared silence.

“Ah– f-fuck, oh my God,” he pants, pawing at anything his hands can reach at this point.

“Fuck is right,” Bucky hisses against Steve’s neck as he nips the tender skin. “You up for a challenge, baby?” Bucky ruts up against Steve’s palm, swallowing a moan when the friction rubs in just the right way against his cock’s swollen, covered head. Steve’s heart goes into a frenzy. The liquid courage coursing in his veins kicks in.

“Got you up against a door now, don’t I?” Steve challenges as his teeth graze Bucky’s cheek. 

“Only if y’keep me here,” Bucky breathes, leaning his forehead against Steve’s. He pauses, taking in the macroscopic details of Steve’s reddened face. “I’ll make ya a deal.”

Steve smirks. “What kinda deal, hm?” His palm pushes further into Bucky’s erection, prompting an uncontrollable twitch and rumble of a swallowed groan. He’s got what Bucky needs and he needs what Bucky’s got. 

“You–” Bucky kisses him again, desperate, “get on your knees–” another kiss, “so I–” another, “can admire th’ view.”

Steve's eyes widen. His pants feel like a goddamn tent as Bucky kisses him once more, smacking his lips upon release. He cups Steve’s face, thumb rubbing gently over the blond’s swollen lips.

“If you do a good job, I’ll pay ya back in full.”

Steve drops to his knees in an instant. 

Bucky guides him with coos and ‘good boy’s as he undoes his belt and tosses it into the tub. Face to face with the daunting zipper, Steve glances back up at Bucky, Adam’s apple bobbing. Bucky softens, hand sliding from Steve’s messy blond mop to his chin, tilting him up. 

“First time?” 

Steve’s already-red face saturates deeper. He nods reluctantly, eyes flitting away from Bucky’s in embarrassment. Bucky scoffs a laugh and forces Steve’s gaze back to him; he’s careful to be gentle, but still firm. 

“I’ll help ya, baby. I’ll coach you through it.”

Steve’s bottom lip quivers. He shifts on his knees. “Y-you sure? ‘m sorry, I–”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Bucky commands, shaking Steve’s chin the tiniest bit. His smile falters as he bites down on his lip from the strain. “I’ll do anything if it means getting those pretty pink lips on my cock.”

Steve instantly sits up straighter. Bucky’s hand snakes back into Steve’s hair while the other unzips the front of his jeans ever-so-slowly. Steve can’t help but feel his fucking mouth water as he takes up the task of shakily unbuttoning the denim, releasing Bucky from the prison of his pants. Steve feels himself grow harder as he’s met with sleek, black Calvin Kleins conforming perfectly to Bucky’s hips, the front tents with tension from his throbbing cock begging for release. The branded white waistband shields a deep, carved ‘V’ leading up to the ghost of softened abs underneath the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt.

Steve swears he must be fucking dead– this must be heaven.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Steve falters as his eyes flit up to Bucky, catching a sultry, cocky wink thrown his way before focusing entirely back onto the task at hand. He wipes his clammy palms on the thighs of his khakis before sliding them up Bucky’s concrete thighs– both of which he’s very certain would crush his skull and he would be thankful– and hooking tender fingers onto the waistband. Adam’s apple bobbing, breath held, mouth watering, Steve peels the Calvins down and off Bucky, releasing the most mouth-watering, ecstasy-inducing, biggest fucking dick he’s ever seen in his entire life. 

Fuck. It’s the first dick he’s ever seen in his entire life. Aside from porn tapes and sleazy zines, that is. Bucky can’t help but puff his chest out, smirk widening, grip tightening onto the short length of Steve’s hair, prouder and hornier than he was before his pants came off.

“Told ya t’ take a picture, baby.”

Steve looks up at Bucky with hands still gripping onto his Calvins before dropping them to the floor. With a shaky sigh, he slides closer to Bucky’s leaking head glistening in the shoddy bathroom lighting. Fingers travel up Bucky’s thighs as fingernails gently dig into the oh-so-sensitive part of soft skin, sending a shiver up Bucky’s spine. His palm hits the base of his cock, wrapping around the base of it while his other hand gently takes Bucky’s sack. Stiff and at the ready, Steve leans closer and closer until the dripping wet, eagerly reddened tip hits his lips, poking through and sliding onto an awaiting tongue. Bucky groans and hits the door with a free fist. 

“F-f-fuck– oh my– fucking Christ–!” 

Curses and praises rain down on Steve as he obeys Bucky’s hips thrusting gently into his warm mouth. Steve’s tongue swirls around Bucky’s head as he starts to bob, setting the starting tempo and matching Bucky’s movements. His fist around the base tightens, sending more blood into his cock, in turn sending Bucky careening into the back of Steve’s throat. Steve sucks in, choking on Bucky’s cock and savoring every second of it. Tears brim his eyes as he slowly pulls back, drool dripping out his mouth and covering Bucky, who’s fist in Steve’s hair pulls at just the right angle, sending an uncontrollable moan up and out of Steve’s hoarse throat. 

He wipes his mouth and dives back in. 

“Fuck, Steve, I–”

The sound of his name spilling out of Bucky in a desperate call only motivates him and his own dick more than ever. Lips, tongue, and teeth graze over Bucky’s head as Steve bobs quicker this time around. Lips pucker around the shaft as he pumps and bobs simultaneously, undoing Bucky from the way his knees buckle against the back of the bathroom door. A guttural moan vibrates out from Bucky’s chest to his limbs, reaching Steve as he picks up the pace.

Steve nestles his mouth at the base of Bucky’s cock before fanning his tongue out across the girth and licking a wet stripe all the way up to the head, actively (and almost) killing Bucky. With both of Bucky’s fists raking desperately through his hair, both of Steve’s hands migrate once more, wrapping around Bucky and squeezing every ounce of precum out of his swollen red tip. Steve takes the opportunity to look up at Bucky for the first time and nearly ruins his own pants at the sight above him. 

Sweat-stuck hair frames Bucky’s panting, desperate face. His once-indigo eyes are no more, swallowed by lust-blow black pupils and fluttering eyelids; his Adam’s apple bobs hysterically, caught in a hurricane of pure pleasure and the pain of having to– needing to– restrain himself. His cheeks burn pink as shadows bury themselves in the crevices of his features. If Steve didn’t know any better, he fucking swears Bucky looks like a stolen work of art from the Louvre itself.

Bucky swallows, parting his lips ever-so-slightly. “Don’t stop– ’m so fuckin’ close, Stevie.”

The nickname snaps Steve out of his trance, the scene above him more than enough motivation to finish the job and finish it well.

Sore, puckered lips engulf Bucky’s swollen cock as Steve works at twisting both his hands in opposite directions, pumping and squeezing as he sucks and bobs to the rhythm of Bucky’s hips. His pace quickens, as does Bucky’s breathing. Neck muscles tighten and biceps strain as Steve feels his jaw beginning to lock. The back of his throat is numb from endorphins and adrenaline. He feels Bucky’s entire body freeze and instinctively removes his hands, reaching around and grabbing onto Bucky’s ass, pushing him into the deepest part of his throat just as Bucky finally releases. Hot ropes of cum shoot down Steve’s throat as he continues to gently suck, coaxing every single drop out of Bucky. His tongue laps at the excess spilling over his molars and swallows, making Bucky twitch and curse all over again.

The two of them are connected, forever a part of one another in this moment and the next; both are intertwined through body and soul, whether they might know it now, or not. Regardless, they are each other's firsts, whether they know it (Bucky) or not (Steve.) A trophy to keep in the back of their minds. A memory that makes them lie awake in bed at night with the ghost of a smirk on their lips.

Bucky, now fantastically ruined, allows his body to give out and slides down the length of the door, crumpling in a pleasure-drunken heap on the floor with his legs outstretched in front of him. His eyes don’t leave Steve’s, who is now sitting opposite of him, gagging and swallowing as he rests against the front cabinets of the bathroom vanity. His hair sticks up in different tufts, remnants of Bucky’s grabby hands. His face is the reddest Bucky’s ever seen. He feels his dick fucking twitch again. 

In echoing pants, both silently agree on two things: 1. how good the cool tile feels beneath their fingers, and 2. how they won’t acknowledge the fogged-up bathroom mirror. 

“Wow,” Bucky breathlessly utters. He cards a clammy hand through stringy hair, dropping it lazily into his lap.

Steve nods, swallowing again. “Wow.”

Bucky blinks. His eyes finally focus and follow from his own lap to his outstretched legs, to Steve’s folded knees and used, swollen face. He stares, taking everything in while he climbs down from the high. A smirk ghosts Steve's lips as he meets Bucky’s gaze. 

“What?” Bucky questions. 

“Wish I could take a picture,” Steve answers. Bucky snorts and shakes his head.

“Might as well. Hang it on the fridge or somethin’ for how good you did.”

Steve perks up. “I… did a good job?”

Bucky smiles, eyes wandering to the ceiling to avoid blushing more than he already is. He ultimately comes back to Steve before nodding. “Yeah. You did,” he smiles at Steve. “More than good.”

Steve feigns disbelief. “More than good?”

“Some would say great, even. Five star service.”

Steve scoffs a laugh. “Some?”

“Some being me, myself, and I.”

The two titter a moment more before another comfortable silence falls between them. Steve watches Bucky a second more before shifting to his knees again. Slowly, carefully, he crawls towards Bucky, closing the few feet of distance between them in seconds. Bucky sits up against the door and spreads his legs open, welcoming Steve between them, ignoring his semi-hard cock as it continues twitching. Steve stops inches from Bucky as the air shifts. Steve, still on all fours, peels his clammy hand from the tile and rests it on Bucky’s cheek, carding a couple fingers into his hair for good measure. He can hear Bucky’s heart beating, which he (correctly) assumes Bucky can probably hear his, as well, pounding against the marrow bars of his rib cage.

Seafoam green meets bright baby blue as Steve gently pulls Bucky closer. Soft lips meet one stubbled cheek, and then the other, before Steve pulls back as if to peer straight into Bucky’s soul. 

And Bucky is okay with that.

“Thank you,” Steve says.

“No, thank you.”

“You can thank me later like ya said.” Steve smirks. Bucky smiles. 

“That can be arranged.”

Finally, Steve pulls Bucky into him. Lips crash together once more, this time the hunger is replaced by lust and gratitude. It feels genuine. It feels right. Everything feels right. 

As Bucky leans more into the kiss, with his hands cupping Steve’s burning cheeks, a loud BANG BANG BANG kills any and all goodness within the bathroom that existed just second prior. The two flinch in each other’s arms as they scramble up and off the floor, frantically trying to find clothes and fix hair. 

“Yo! Buck? You in there? We’re fuckin’ leavin’, dude!” A voice calls from the other side.

Panic flashes over Bucky’s face as Steve hands him his belt. “Uh, yeah! Be right out!” 

“Well hurry the fuck up! Natasha’s getting grabby!”

Bucky and Steve listen for footsteps to recede before sharing a sigh of relief as they continue to clean up. 

“Why does Natasha get grabby?” Steve asks playfully, eliciting a louder laugh from Bucky now that they didn’t have to be totally silent any longer.

“Too much tequila. The girl can handle her booze but not without fatal consequences.”

Steve snorts at the thought. “Can’t say I blame her,” he winks. 

Bucky rolls his eyes and snorts back. “Me neither,” he smirks. 

As Bucky goes to grab the doorknob, Steve grabs his shoulder.

“Wait, I–” he starts. His cheeks bloom into a hues of pink again as he sheepishly looks at the floor. “Can I get your number?”

Bucky smiles and feels around his pockets for something, fishing a sharpie out from his jacket pocket. “Gimme your arm.” 

Steve obeys, offering his left arm to Bucky’s awaiting hand. Bucky cradles him as the sharpie drags across his skin, leaving behind a series of numbers large– and legible– enough to read. Steve pulls his arm back and analyzes the new temporary tattoo, committing each digit to memory in case something egregious happens to his arm from now until he gets home. He notices the area code and looks curiously back up to Bucky, who caps the marker and shoves it back into another pocket. 

“Bucky! C’mon, man! No, Natasha!” the voice calls again from the living room. 

Bucky gives Steve one last peck on the cheek before turning on his heel and striding down the hallway, leaving Steve standing in the threshold of the still-steamy bathroom with messy hair, a missing flannel, and a phone number inked onto his skin. The smile plastered on his face refuses to leave.

[leviathansshadycorner]

Be Realistic ( Leon x reader)

Short blurb because I'm in a mood - Yes based off of that Britney broski audio lmao Warnings: low self esteem reader, body issues ALSO I LOVE ASHLEY GUYS SO DW DW SHES MY BBG SHE JUST SEEMED APPROPRIATE TO USE IN THIS SCENARIO LMAO

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Rebecca and you sat at the edge of the backyard, both of you sprawled out on the lawn chairs. Claire had thrown a summer pool party, deciding it'd be a smart idea to invite people from work. Ada and Claire were chatting among themselves, sipping away at their colorful drinks, Luis urging everyone to put on sunscreen, and Carlos, Jill, and Chris having a competition to see who could do the best cannonball. Among the partygoers was Ashley Graham, the owner of the house in which Claire was throwing the party.

"She's so gorgeous," Rebecca comments, her sunglasses protecting her brown doe eyes.

"I know." You added, the two of you ogling at Ashley's beauty. She wore a cute brown-colored two-piece, with a metal ring in the front that held the top together, which accentuated her complexion and made her appear like a Victoria's Secret model.

"Hey guys, have any of you seen Leon?" Ashley called out, holding the deflated pink dolphin in her hands.

His name made your stomach twist, and you swear you could've felt your heart pang. The way his name rolled off her tongue was so natural, almost melodic.

"Right here." Leon came out from behind the glass sliding doors. He was the only one still in his normal clothes, deciding he was too cool or some shit for the pool party.

The man walked his way along the perimeter of the pool to Ashley. His muscles showing as he carried the air pump to the girl.

"Dumbass, why did you bring it all the way out here?" Chris commented.

"Easy access." Came Leon's response.

"Thanks, Leon!" Ashley beamed, her pouty pink lips curling into a smile that even made your heart flutter. Leon stood close to her, handing his hand out for her to give him the floaty. She complied, and handed it over, their exchange making your eyes lose their gleam.

"My hero." Ashley was excited, her floaty finally being of use.

Rebecca noticed you from the corner of her eyes. She knew about your little huge crush on Leon. The girl watched as your face crept with sadness- dare she say- disappointment.

"Kind of funny how he's still in his normal clothes." She tries to distract you. "Typical Leon."

You looked at her and smiled, "I know. I was hoping to see him shirtless." The two of you giggled, letting out cackles, Ada and Claire looking your way to see what the commotion was about.

"Why don't you go ask him to take it off?" She teased, turning her body to look at you.

"Hmm, maybe." You said boldly, even though you knew you'd rather fall in the pool and drown than do that.

"Bet. You won't." She smirked, challenging you.

"Pftt I totally would." You played yourself up.

"Then go." Rebecca eyes you.

After being riled up by Rebecca, a burst of confidence shot threw you. It couldn't be that hard right? You and Leon bantered and flirted on missions before, so what difference would this make? Plus it was totally appropriate for you to tell him off about his weird pool attire or rather lack of it.

"Watch me Chambers." You told your best friend as you got up from the lawn chair. You were wearing a (top of your choice) that you brought a size too small to make your figure pop. The shorts that you wore were Rebbeca's basketball shorts that she had let you borrow last minute after you changed your mind about wearing a one-piece.

Feeling confident in your tight outfit you began to strut toward Leon and Ashley, the sun's beams hitting the floor making the cement beneath your feet warm. As you approached you caught a glimpse of yourself in the glass sliding doors. Immediately your confidence shrank.

How could you have been so delusional to wear this out? It looked nothing like the way you pictured it in your head. Your model like posture returned to that of a hunchback as you shamefully scurried past Leon and Ashley, walking along the whole edge of the pool, stopping by the coolers to grab two waters, and heading back to a frowning Rebecca.

Leon and Ashley to focused on judging Chris and Carlos' Cannonballs to notice you.

"What happened?" She ask as she noticed the shift in your demeanor.

"Nothing." You sighed handing her a water.

"(Y/n) we already have water." She pushes her sunglasses up to her head as she stares at you. You take a seat on the same lawn chair.

You whined. "Why didn't you tell me I looked like shit?" It was only loud enough for her to hear.

"What you don't though.." She reassures you as she places a hand on your back. "(Y/n) you look hot!"

You didn't believe it. Surely she was only saying this because as your best friend she was obligated to. Your mind flashed back to the image of you in the glass doors. Your hair was flat yet awfully frizzy at the same time, you stood like a toddler who barely knew how to walk, and your legs looked like they were overflowing in Rebecca's tiny shorts. To make things worse you were sure the chlorine from your previous dip had made your skin look all dry.

You looked around for the oversized shirt you came here in. When you found it you shielded your body from the eyes of the partygoers.

"(Y/n).." Rebecca looked concerned.

"I don't know why I even tried talking to him. I probably look like an idiot." You leaned on Rebecca's shoulder as you two blankly watched the Beefy Brazillian splash into the pool.

"Because you like him. And I'm pretty sure he likes you too." She giggled.

"No- he likes Ashley." You said defeated, your emotions coming out now that you'd made yourself vulnerable. You saw the way those two looked at each other. They had something you wish you had with Leon.

"I don't think so." She wraps her arm around your waist. Smirking when she notices Leon glance over at you two.

"I think I'm just gonna accept my Leon-less life." You said leaning into your friend for comfort. Your eyes occasionally glancing over at an out of place Leon as he shouts at Chris.

"What? You're just not gonna try?"

You sighed. "There's really no point Becca."

She scoffed, "(Y/n)- you're totally out of his league. You can get him if you wanted to."

"Becca!" You groaned, your inner teen always came out when hanging out with her. "I can't. Have you seen the way she looks? She can get him!" You laughed, deciding to find the humor in your failed attempts at love.

"Oh (Y/n) you can too!" Her short hair bounced as she shaked you.

You turned around your hand practically digging into 's shoulder as you stared at her dead in the eye. "Be realistic. Be so fucking for real." You shook her back, your voice that of a goblins.

The two of you laughed as you spewed out nonsensical noises.

The conversation then shifted to celebrity crushes, "You think I have a chance with Josh Hutcherson?" Rebecca lays down on the lawn chair.

"Hundred percent yes." You replied, "What about me and Nick cage?"

"I see that." Rebecca smirks.

"Wait. What about me and Da-" Before you could finish your sentence Leon's shadow loomed over you, causing both you and Rebecca to jump.

"What about you and who?" He asked as he took a seat on the lawn chair you were previously on.

Your heart fell to your ass. "Oh my god you scared me." You and Rebecca giggled.

"You're not going in the pool?" Leon asked, leaning back in the chair.

"You know we were about to ask you the same thing. What's up with the clothes Kennedy?" Rebecca raised an eyebrow, she then nudged your shoulder.

"Yeah, lose the shirt, Leon." You said on cue. A fire growing in your stomach.

"I will if you do." He hooked his hands under his grey shirt as he began to pull it off.

Scratch that. The fire in your stomach was now a full-on Volcano.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

What if you did something with Bucky and Steve watching the reader use a toy?

Can't take my eyes off you

PAIRING ⇒ Boyfriends!Stucky x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT ⇒ 1.6K

SUMMARY ⇒ Steve and Bucky were busy with work, so you keep yourself company with one of your favorite toys. When they walk in on you playing with yourself, they can't help but join in and have some fun by themselves as well.

RATING ⇒ Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS ⇒ Polyamorous relationship, use of nicknames (Princess, Printsessa)

SMUT ⇒ Porn with a plot, belly bulge, masturbation, use of a dildo, mutual masturbation, handjobs, voyeurism, reference to spitroasting, squirting, and cockwarming

A/N  ⇒ Hmm, let's imagine this scenario, shall we, Nonnie? I hope you enjoy what I did with this, and thank you very much for inspiring this idea! The voyeur in me is going crazy every time I reread this, and it was a hoot to write! This is beta-read by the lovely @late-to-the-party-81, for which I thank you deeply! ❤️

A/N 2.0 ⇒ My requests are open again! Please feel free to send them for each person or character I write for, and I can't wait to see what amazing ideas you'll all come up with!

EVENTS Masterlist ⇒ @buckybarnesevents BaBB061: February ⇒ Belly Bulge Masterlist ⇒ @lgbtqbingo ⇒ "You're really bad at hiding how horny you are." Masterlist ⇒ @stuckybingo ⇒ Voyeurism Masterlist ⇒ @sweetspicybingo Sweethearts ⇒ Proud of u

Banners: Yours truly ⇒ Divider: @firefly-graphics ⇒ Photo: Source

Main Masterlist ⇒ Stucky Masterlist

It's been a long day for you, as your boyfriends have been gone almost the entire day due to mandatory meetings. Luckily, you didn't have to attend, but it meant you'd been bored for a while. You’ve tried everything from reading a book to watching TV; your apartment is spotless, and now you're scrolling on your phone on the bed, feeling restless.

Your phone is thrown to the side with a huff, and you look around the bedroom when your eye suddenly falls on a small, rectangular box in the closet, and you instantly get excited. Within the blink of an eye, you're standing in front of the closet, the black box feeling heavy in your hands, arousal already pooling in your panties at the thought of what you're about to do.

The walk back to the bed is quick, and you're soon undressed, leaving you completely bare as you sit back down on the bed, box in hand. Your heart is racing as you think about the moment Bucky handed you the box, a beautiful red bow tied around it.

"I got you something... personal, Printsessa," Bucky tells you; all your birthday guests have just left. You're alone with one of your boyfriends in the kitchen, cleaning up the cups and other trash when you turn to meet his gaze. A sparkle of mischief is visible in his bright blue eyes, with a matching grin lighting up his features.

"But you already gave me a present! You really didn't have to do this,'' you tell him, your curiosity piqued regardless. He hands it to you, and the bow finds its way onto the counter; and when you open the box, you see an exact replica - size and girth included - of Bucky's cock. Everything from every vein to the color of it is eerily life-like, and you're already clenching your thighs in anticipation.

"Does Steve know about this?" you ask him, not wanting your other boyfriend to be left out.

"Who do you think helped me make the mold for it, Printsessa?" Bucky nearly growls, his voice deepening immensely with his own arousal coursing through his veins. He's getting hard, his cock straining against the confinement of his pants.

It didn't take long for you to be on the bed, riding the silicon replica of Bucky's cock, while he was jerking off his real one. He couldn’t stop looking at you as you took it all the way to the base, moaning Bucky's name loudly until you're both finding your release not much later. You would use that toy many more times, either with or without your boyfriends, and it is possibly the best gift Bucky could have ever gotten you.

You settle against the pillows and headrest, the toy feeling nice and heavy in your hand as you spread your legs, your phone in your hand as you're going to search for some videos to watch. It's a good thing your boyfriends aren't shy about filming during sex, so there's plenty of content for you to enjoy.

After some scrolling, you decide to go with a video where they're both fucking you at the same time and as soon as you click the start button, long, broken moans and pleas to cum fill the room. As you look at your phone, you can feel yourself slowly getting more aroused, so you bring the large toy to your pussy, dragging it through your folds as your lip is held between your teeth. A sharp feeling of pleasure courses through you as it rubs over your clit, your body jolting at the sensation.

After teasing yourself for a few minutes, you line the large tip of the dildo with your entrance before pushing in slowly, stretching you just the way you love so much. Both of their cocks always stretch you immensely, but with Bucky being just a bit bigger, it always takes a bit more time.

A moan leaves your throat as you push in more of the toy, your body slowly accepting the silicon while you keep looking at the video on your phone. The ‘you’ on screen is on all fours, Steve fucking your pussy, and Bucky has his cock in your mouth.   He sets a brutal pace, and you gag around him.

It doesn't take long for the dildo to be fully inside you, and you look down to see your belly bulging slightly, just like it does whenever Bucky is deep inside you, and you can't help but grin at the sight. Seeing how deep both boys can get inside you always spurs them on; it makes them even more horny, and they never get enough of the sight.

After you've adjusted to the stretch, you slowly start thrusting the replica cock in and out, the video you were watching now forgotten as you put the phone down. Your eyes are closed as the pleasure builds slowly with every motion; every time the toy pushes in and glides out, you let out a soft moan.

Suddenly, you feel a presence in the room with you, but you don't move to cover up or stop what you're doing. Instead, you spread your legs even wider so both your boyfriends can get a better view of your glistening pussy and the toy smoothly gliding in and out. When you open your eyes, their arousal is plainly visible - both in their pants and lust-filled eyes. They look at you like they want to devour you whole.

"You're really bad at hiding how horny you are," you tell them between soft moans, and you see a deep red blush creeping over both your boyfriend's cheeks. You can see they're getting a little antsy as they stand there, wanting nothing more than to touch you, but you have an even better idea. You take your bottom lip between your teeth in anticipation, and your line of sight glides down to their crotches, seeing how hard they are as they strain against the confines of their pants.

"I want both of you on the bed, but-" you say with a pointed tone, "you can only help each other. I want to see the two of you getting each other off while you watch me make myself cum on this toy.” Bucky's eyes widen at your words, and Steve is already on his way to the bed, clothes strewn across the floor before his knees hit the bed in anticipation.

"Can I kiss you, Princess? Please, let me kiss these beautiful lips of yours,'' Steve asks as he crawls over to you, taking his place between your legs, his lips mere inches away from yours, and you can't say no to him. After a slight nod, Steve moves forward to capture your lips with his, letting your tongues dance while Bucky looks on, his metal hand slowly and loosely jerking himself.

"Look at you two; I couldn't wish for a better sight," Bucky mumbles as he takes in the view before him. Steve pulls away with a small smile dancing on his lips before sitting back on his haunches, admiring how your belly bulges with the toy.

"C'mere, Buck, look at your cock stretching her belly," he tells his boyfriend, who's nearly drooling at what he’s seen so far alone. The only way it would be even better is if it were him inside you, but he'll happily look at the toy stretching your pussy too. Once his clothes are off, he takes his place on the bed, waiting patiently for Steve.

The scene unfolding in front of you has you clenching your thighs and arousal flooding over the toy and onto the bed, more moans leaving your lips. Steve and Bucky are on their knees, chest to chest, and kissing each other passionately, their tongues dancing in a fight over dominance, each having a hand wrapped around the other's cock.

''Fuck, look at you two," you groan as your free hand glides to your clit, the toy still thrusting in and out at a steady pace as the familiar feeling of an orgasm is building in the pit of your stomach, a warmth spreading through your veins as your eyes are locked on their hands working on each other's cocks.

"Cum for us, Princess, cum for us, and after, we'll fuck you completely senseless," Steve tells you, and with a few tight circles and well-aimed thrusts, you become a moaning, writhing mess on the sheets, your arousal squirting out of you. Your legs tremble as your back arches, the toy becoming too much inside you as you pull it out, panting loudly as you keep your eyes on your boyfriends.

"C'mere, Princess," Steve says as he reaches out his hand for you, and you take it. He lets go of Bucky so you can place yourself between them, Steve in front of you, and Bucky behind you so you're in the middle of a super-soldier sandwich.

"We're so proud of you, you know that?" Bucky whispers in your ear as you let your head fall back against his shoulder, two pairs of hands wandering over your body, ensuring you're relaxed enough for everything that’s about to happen. The rest of the night, both men make you fall apart, and somewhere around the third orgasm, although you may have lost count, you fall into a deep sleep.

You're lulled into a dreamless sleep as you're pressed once again between your boyfriends, Steve behind you and Bucky in front, both of them still buried deep inside you, plugging you up so not a single drop of their cum will escape from your body. It's the best night's sleep you've had in a while, and you’ll whip out the toy more often if this is what it brings you.

[katz-chow]

slip ‘n slide

18+, smut

having sex with soap is always a little adventure. from start to finish, you don’t know what’s really going on other than his ass is horny, corny, and absurdly cocky.

take for instance now when you’re so exhausted from a bbq-pool party at the community pool that you were both invited to. the heat of the sun was starting to give you a tension headache but you didn’t really care when soap’s hoochie-daddy, 5 inch (12.7 cm) inseam, salmon pink swim shorts were on full display right in your face when you looked up from your phone.

“lass, people are starting to head home,” you look up at him and he kneels down to your chair to look you in the eye.

damn his manners, you liked the view… “let’s head home yeah? the sun’s setting anyway” you gathered your stuff and the two of you started to head home at a rather lightning quick speed as you were being rushed “i’m hungry let’s get food” you were hungry, but he also looked so good.

“no, i’ll cook” he didn’t look at you, his eyes rather being on the road, but he squeezed your thigh

“if you insist”

you walked in, soap dropped your stuff on the floor and locked the door; before you could go anywhere though, he pulled your back into his chest and pressed his growing cock into your ass. he fucking whines.

so that’s why he was rushing home

shower was on in an instant, clothes were thrown in the sink, and his lips were on yours as the water was aimed towards your chests.

he leans into your ear, “so wet hm? like a slip ‘n slide?”

ah there it is, your silly johnny. you laugh out loud and he chuckled at your reaction. “like a slip ‘n slide yeah? you gonna slip your pool noodle in?”

“you’re ridiculous, obviously i am, bonnie”

“oh i’m ridiculously? you just called me a slip ‘n slide!”

he slams his lips into yours to shut himself up.

the steam was starting to build up from the running water but you both didn’t care, let it fog up the mirrors. johnnys arms hooked themselves underneath your thighs. “jump up”

“i’ll fucking slip johnny”

“please?” damn his puppy dog eyes

you did as your told and surprisingly he catches you. “told you, love” the tip of his cock twitches as he lowers you onto it, slowly encasing it in your walls.

it was fine for a while but not everything is meant to last unfortunately. his pace got erratic and he pulled back rather a bit too far and caused his feet to get unbalanced. “fuck..lov-OH FUCK”

your mind went blank as as johnny, living up to his name, slipped like a bar of soap causing you to land with him.

“you ok bonnie?”

“yeah you?”

“my ass hurts but my cock’s fine, isn’t that right?” he flops it around with his hand. “oh for sure johnny!”

“jesus christ…let’s get outta here”

[bingwriterxo]

party - part 2

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which you and vada continue things...not in your best friend's pool

warnings: smut (character is 18+), 18+ (minors DNI), fingering, cunnilingus

word count: 1350+

author's note: more vada more vada more vada

part 1

The moment you stepped into Mia's house, there were various greetings thrown your way. 

"Hey, Y/N!"

"Y/N! Looking good."

"You got any weed on you, Y/L/N?"

You ignored them all in favor of trying to tug Vada through the crowd, keeping her pulled close to your back to assure yourself that she was still there. You were trying to be quick, hoping that no one would comment on the fact that your hair was leaving a trail of water or how you and Vada were wearing almost nothing except for your underwear and the towels wrapped around your bodies. You especially didn't want to run into Mia and have to explain that--oh, us? We were just gonna go fuck in your guest bedroom. No biggie, right?

Unfortunately, life never worked quite the way you wanted it to.

You were halfway down the hall, the guest bedroom's door open and in sight, your heart threatening to leap out of your throat and heat building in your stomach when you thought about what was to come, when Mia stepped out of the bathroom and directly into your footpath. You came to a sudden stop, and Vada flew into your back, groaning at the force.

It took Mia a moment to realize that it was you she had almost run into, but when she did, her face lit up. "I've been looking for you!" she slurred excitedly. "Where have you bee--" She cut herself off as she looked over your shoulder, and you could visibly see the moment she understood what was happening because she immediately glanced down at your attire and then back at Vada, her eyes widening in shock. "Wait, are you--In my...In my guest bedroom?"

You huffed, knowing that you would never hear the end of this from her. "Shut up, Mia," you muttered, trying to step around her. However, she threw an arm out, catching the wrist that wasn't being held by Vada's lithe fingers.

"Are you serious, Y/N?" she asked, disbelief lacing her tone.

You tilted your head. "Well, it was either your guest bedroom or in your pool, so..."

Mia chuckled and let go of you. "Then be my guest," she said as she pointed toward the bedroom. You rolled your eyes as you stepped past her, tugging Vada with you. "Just...change the sheets tomorrow, okay?" Mia called out after you, and you offered her a lazy thumbs up before you pulled Vada into the room and slammed the door shut.

"Well, that was both humiliating and--"

You didn't get to finish your sentence as Vada pushed you up against the door, her lips feverishly pressed to yours. You moaned at the feeling, reaching up to wrap your arms around her shoulders, and your towel fell to the ground. Vada immediately took advantage of this newfound nakedness, her hands gripping your hips and fingers playing with the waistband of your panties. 

When air became a problem, you pulled away, and the brunette simply busied herself with dipping her head down to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your skin. You sighed, leaning your head to the side to give her more room. 

"Fuck, that feels good," you groaned when her teeth ran over your pulse point, and she took your words as the sign to suck at the skin there, which rewarded her with a whimper. 

Vada's hands started to roam your body, sliding from your waist to your ribs to your back, and when she reached the clasp of your bra, she pulled away. "Can I...?" she asked, and you nodded quickly. She fumbled with the clasp for a moment, her tongue between her teeth as she concentrated, and you giggled softly.

"Do you need help?"

"No!" she huffed. To distract you, she pressed her lips to yours again, and that was enough for you to forget about the fact that she was struggling to take your bra off. After a minute, you finally felt the tension of your bra loosen, and you dropped your arms to help her take it off. 

Vada stepped back, eyes trained on your chest, and you blushed beneath her stare. She was breathing heavily, her hair was a bit mused from your hands, and her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "You are so fucking pretty," she said before gripping your waist and spinning you around. She walked forward, forcing you to move backward, until your knees hit the bed and you sat. 

You looked up at her with wide, waiting eyes, and you gulped as she climbed onto your lap, straddling you with ease. Your hands fell to her hips, and you gently pushed them upward toward her chest, resting just beneath her own bra. She quickly got the hint and threw it off, and you were the one left staring. 

"Wow," you mumbled before leaning forward, taking one of her nipples into your mouth. She gasped and arched forward, her fingers wrapping themselves in your hair as you sucked. You brought a hand up and played with her other nipple, fingers circling and pinching it lightly. 

"You are...really good at this," she sighed. You hummed into her, and she whined, her hips bucking up. "I can't believe this is really happening. You know, I've been thinking about it for a while, honestly, and I--"

You cut off her rambling as you pulled away, grabbed her by the waist, and flipped her onto the bed, leaving you lying between her open legs. "Do you always talk this much during sex?" you teased before kissing the inside of her thighs. 

She shook her head. "No, not really, but--"

You reached up for her panties. "Is it okay if I take these off?" you interrupted. 

"Definitely," she breathed out. You bit back a grin as you dragged them down her legs, throwing them somewhere behind you and being met with her pretty, wet cunt. She was practically dripping onto the comforter. 

You glanced up, took in her fast breathing and half-lidded eyes, and then leaned forward, licking a stripe up her folds from her entrance to her clit. You moaned at the taste of her bittersweet arousal, and she groaned, fingers tangling in your hair. 

"Oh, shit," she cursed. You did it again, and again, exploring her pussy with your tongue and simply enjoying yourself and the sounds that she was making. "Fuck, Y/N." Her fingers tightened in your hair, and you decided to turn it up a notch.

You took her clit between your lips and sucked, smiling to yourself as she whimpered, her hips bucking against your face. You brought a hand up, slipped a finger between her folds and into her entrance, and sucked harder when you felt her walls clench around you. 

"Ohmygod," Vada rushed out. You were gentle at first, thrusting your finger into her softly as she moaned and whimpered above you. Your tongue swirled circles around her clit, never straying from the bud. "Harder, harder, please!"

You slipped a second finger into her, humming when her back arched, and began a brutal pace, offering her no mercy as you fucked her relentlessly. You reached your free hand up, squeezed her breast, took her nipple between your thumb and forefinger. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," she moaned, voice high. You thrusted into her harder, curling your fingers, and sucked on her clit hard. Her back arched and her walls squeezed you impossibly tight as she came, a shuddering groan slipping past her lips. "Fuck."

However, you didn't relent, instead continuing your ministrations through her orgasm. Vada didn't seem to have any complaints as she was quickly whining beneath you again, her hips rolling against your face. It didn't take long before she was pushed over the edge of another orgasm, her thighs clenching around your head, and you gently pulled out of her once she caught her breath, dipping down to clean her up a bit before tugging yourself upward.

You pressed your lips against hers and moaned when her tongue ran across your bottom lip, knowing she could taste herself on you. When you pulled away, she was staring up at you with blown pupils and swollen lips. 

"That was really good," she said. The she smirked, wrapped her legs around your waist, and flipped the two of you over. She sat above you, looking down. "But it's my turn now."

[skybluewritings]

Last summer Part 5, Felix Catton X fem!reader

Warning: There will be smut 18+

Note: Thank you so much for all of the lovely comments and likes!

For some reason he wouldn’t even look at her over the breakfast table, at first she wondered if maybe he was hungover like she was but he’d barely spoke a word to anyone. And when she got to the pool later that morning he was nowhere to be seen. Venetia was already on a lounger a magazine in her lap.

 

Venetia noticed her and grinned. “How are you feeling this morning?”

 

“Like absolute death.” (Name) replied coming to lay on the lounger next to her.

 

Venetia laughed. “That would be the jelly shots we did, they tasted so good.”

 

 She laughed too rubbing at her temple. “Which is probably why I did like half a tray of them.”

 

“You got so drunk last night you fell in a bush.” Venetia reminded her.

 

“Please don’t, I’d forgotten about that.” She groaned. “In fact everything after the jello shots is a blur, I don’t even really remember how I got back to my bedroom.”

 

“Oh it was probably Felix, when we left you guys he was practically guiding you up the stairs.”

 

A part of her foggy memory came back, it was Felix carrying her in his arms down the hallway then he helped her into bed. And whilst that should have felt like enough she had a nagging feeling she had missed something? Is that why Felix was being so distant had she offended him last night?

 

“Did you sense that there was something off with Felix at breakfast? I have this feeling that maybe I hurt him last night and I can’t remember what I said.” She admitted.

 

Venetia shook her head. “You would never have.”

 

 “But that’s just it I’m so sure something happened. If I didn’t say anything then what else could it be?”

 

Venetia was quiet for a moment. “Can I be honest with you?”

 

Her throat tightened. “Yeah, go for it.”

 

“The two of you were really close at the party is it possible that maybe a line was crossed?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean that,” Venetia took her sunglasses off,” The two of you have this thing between you whether you realise it or not. Perhaps one of you tried it on with the other and got shot down?”

 

She knew her own feelings well enough for Felix and the past couple of weeks had given her some hope he felt the same. It wasn’t enough hope to be 100 percent certain, but it was there. What if last night she had thrown caution to the wind, made a move and had been rejected?

 

She took a deep breath. “If I admit this to you it stays between us.”

 

Venetia held out her pinky and (Name) shook on it. “I swear.”

 

“I do have feelings for him,” She swallowed hard, “So it’s possible he’s just feeling embarrassed because he had to reject me.”

 

A weight was lifted off her, she had never confessed how she truly felt about Felix to anyone let alone his sister.

 

“You’ll never know unless you speak to him.” Venetia told her.

 

“Okay fine I’ll-I’ll talk to him.” She agreed. “Thank you.”

 

“I should be the one thanking you actually.”

 

“Why?”

 

Venetia smiled at her. “For defending me in front of everyone, no one apart from Farleigh and Felix has ever had my back.”

 

She smiled back. “I would want someone to do the same for me.”

*

She knocked on Felix’s bedroom door several times but there was no response, she gave up and walked away defeated and a little annoyed. As she headed back down to the pool she ran into Farleigh, he opened his mouth to greet her but was cut off.

 

“Hey have you seen Felix anywhere?” She asked urgently.

 

“Good morning to you as well.” Farleigh responded. “Why do you need to find him?”


“I need to know if he’s okay.  Do you know where he is?” She told him.

 

“Well last time I saw him he’d gone off to town to buy ice for the dinner party tonight.”

 

It seemed convenient he had so suddenly left the house.

 

“Dinner party?”


He gave her an obvious look. “Yes the dinner party, the one that Elspeth hasn’t stopped talking about for weeks. The one we all have to be at!”

 

(Name) shut her eyes and rubbed at her temples. “Yep the dinner party. Oh my god I had totally forgotten.”

 

“Well they’re certainly interesting, so I’ll see you there.” Farleigh told her and walked away.

 

She would have to speak with him that night and get to the bottom of it.

*

The dinner party was as interesting as Farleigh had said. She was pretty sure the couple she was sat next to at one point had propositioned her for a threesome…The champagne was making some guests friendlier than others. But it was hard to focus on most of the inane conversation when Felix was once again still not looking at her. After dinner had finished the next part of the evening was about to begin. When they were in the hallway out of the dinning room she noticed Felix slope off, she politely excused herself to go join him.

 

She found him outside leant against the wall smoking, she had seen dressed in a suit before but there was something about this time that made her feel warm.

 

“Hey.” She said approaching him.

 

He looked up from the cigarette and glanced briefly at her. “Oh hi.”

 

“Is everything okay?” She gently asked.

 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He replied bluntly.

 

She touched his arm. “Because you haven’t spoken to me at all today.”

 

He shrugged her off. “Maybe I don’t feel like talking.”

 

“Come on please!”

 

“I’m fine ok.” He said firmly.

 

She snatched the cigarette from him and threw it to the ground crushing it under her heel. He turned to her outraged.

 

“What the fuck was that for?”

 

She glared at him. “Can you stop acting like a little boy for five seconds and be my friend?!”

 

He rolled his eyes. “There’s that word again ‘friend’. Yeah that’s right I’m your fucking friend.”

 

She stared back at him not knowing what to say. It was then that everything from the previous night came back. The conversation in the back of the taxi, him carrying her to bed and then in her room when he placed her hand to his heart. And OH GOD- he had basically admitted to having feelings for her and she had been too drunk to respond. She hadn’t been the one to put herself on the line it had been him! And she’d inadvertently rejected him.

 

“Do you like me?” Her voice was quiet.

 

“Why do you sound so surprised?! I literally told you last night, but you made it pretty obvious that you don’t feel the same.”

 

She shook her head. “No that’s-that’s not true at all I just didn’t fully understand until now when I remembered everything.”

 

He furrowed his brow. “Wait did you forget about what happened?”

 

“Yeah, well I was really drunk.” She gingerly told him.

 

“Now that you understand what do you uh think about it?” He asked her.

 

“I really like you.” She confessed, feeling extremely jittery.

 

He laughed and softly took her hands in his. “I can’t believe this! The whole time I was into and you were feeling exactly the same.”

 

She had dreamed of the day he would finally return her feelings, but the timing was just awful. Soon she’d be leaving to live abroad for a year.

 

His grin faded a little when he noticed she was visibly less happy than him. “What is it? Is this not what you want?”

 

She let go of his hands. “This is really hard for me to do but I don’t think I can do this.”

 

His jaw clenched. “But we both like each other, what’s the problem?”

 

“Felix I’m leaving the country in less than two weeks for an entire year.”

 

“Who cares we can figure out!” He said, voice growing louder.

 

She ran a hand through her hair. “It would be fine at first, but the distance would eventually settle in, and we’d would fizzle out. I would rather not risk losing you, even if it meant never having you in the first place. You mean so much to me.” Her voice cracked as she spoke.

 

 “I can’t believe you don’t even want to try. I’m willing to work at this, but you won’t even give us a chance!” He shouted.

 

“You think this is easy for me? Do you think this doesn’t hurt me too? Of course I want that but it just won’t work.” She shouted back.

 

He threw his hands in the air. “So, what we go back to being friends and pretend this conversation never happened?”

 

“Yes because I don’t see any other way to move forward!”

 

“Maybe you can do that, but I can’t.”

 

She winced at his words. “What do you mean by that?”

 

“That maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore.” He snapped.

 

She could not believe how childish he was being.

 

She shoved him in the chest. “You know what, fuck you!”

 

“At least I’m not afraid!”

 

She gave him a dirty look. “That is rich coming from you. I bet anything you’d just fuck me then move on like you always do.”

 

She regretted the insult as soon as she’d said it. He became vacant of any emotion, then barged straight past her.

 

“Wait Felix.” She called after him but he didn’t bother to look back at her.

*

She was sat mournfully at the vanity desk in her room brushing her hair out. She knew she had messed up. How could she have said that to him? Regardless of how hurt she felt at him telling her they should no longer be friends she never should have insulted him so greatly. There was a knock at her door, she already knew it was Felix without even having to answer.

 

She opened the door and there he was, stood sheepishly before her. He was dressed in pyjamas but had pulled on a jumper.

 

“Can we go for a drive?” He asked.

*

There hadn’t been much conversation on the drive there but eventually the car came to a stop.

 

She squinted at the view. “Where are we?”

 

“This is just somewhere I used to drive to when everything felt like too much.” He told her.

 

He opened his car door and got out, she did the same. He had parked on a hillside in the darkness she could make out the wide expanse of fields down below them. The bright moonlight helped her to see. It was a brilliantly clear night, she could spot more constellations than she ever could back home.

 

They sat on the bonnet of the car both in their pyjamas. “This is a beautiful spot.” She told him.

 

“You should see it in the daytime.” He replied.

 

They both fell silent for a moment, it was his voice that broke it.

 

“I’m really sorry.” He apologised. “I shouldn’t have behaved like that, I was just hurt. If you want to stay friends then of course we can be. I’ll respect whatever decision you make.”

 

She was able to smile a little. “Thank you, that means a lot. And I’m so sorry too, I never should have insulted you like that. I was just lashing out, of course I don’t think you would ever discard me. You’ve always treated me with such respect.”

 

He nodded taking in what she’d said. “I never want to hurt you again like I did today.” He admitted.

 

 "It’s okay I understand why you acted like that.” She told him.

 

“It’s still not an excuse.”

 

“Even so.” She sighed.

 

“When did you first start liking me then?” He asked her with a light laugh.

 

This also made her laugh. “Seriously is that what you want to know?”

 

 “I can’t help it if I’m curious.”

 

She felt herself flush. “Well, I realised when one time we were in your uni room studying. You looked up at me for a moment, and I just kind of knew.”

 

“Studying that’s pretty hot.” He teased her, making her scoff.

 

Despite the joke in the darkness she could see how soft his gaze was.

 

She bumped her shoulder against his. “Come on, now you have to tell me when you realised you liked me?”

 

“We were at a party together and you were just so lit up talking to all these people. I was so proud to know you, to exist in the same room as you.”

 

She felt a thrill run through her at him using the words she had once used to describe him. Strangely something about the two memories felt connected.

 

“Wait a minute.” She breathed. “Was this around late April of last year?”

 

 “Yeah it was. Why?”

 

“I remember that on the day we studied we also went to a party.”

 

His eyes widened. “Did we both have the same realisation on the same day?”

 

She stared back at him just as amazed. “Yeah I think so.”

 

She leant her head on his shoulder. “God you are going to be hard to get over.”

 

He chuckled sadly, leaning his head against hers. “So are you.”

 

*

He had held her hand the entire car journey home, his fingers threaded through hers. When they had parted to go back to bed a strange tension hung in the air.

 

“So, I guess this is goodnight then.” She said fiddling with the metal of her bracelet.

 

He leant against the doorframe. “Yeah I suppose. Well goodnight.”

 

They both faltered in the doorway before she finally closed the door and he left. She got into bed but she was wide awake. They were really never going to be anything then?And it had been no one’s fault but her own. She tried to ignore the regret that was gnawing at her, it had been a smart choice. Right? They could both in time try to move past whatever this was and soon things would be normal. But could it ever be normal?  In the years to come how would she ever pretend they were just friends when she knew that once upon a time he had wanted as badly as she wanted him.

 

She needed to talk him, it still felt like they hadn’t fully discussed this. She didn’t know what she was going to say but she just needed to see him.

 

She tore the bed covers off her and opened the door that connected to the bathroom. But there he was at the other side of door his hand raised to knock.

 

“What are you doing?-” He asked bewildered.

 

She looked up at him, maybe she needed to stop thinking so much.

 

“What I should have done have in the first place.” She told him.

 

He gave her a confused look before she wrapped her arms around his neck, leant up and kissed him.

 

He pulled back for a second. “I-I thought you didn’t want to do anything?”

 

 “I know what I said but I couldn’t spend another second wondering it was like to kiss you!”

 

 That was all the convincing he needed. “Fuck it, come here.” He said cupping her face.

 

He softly pressed his lips to hers and this time kissed her back. It started off slow, she grasped at his jumper whilst one of his hands slid down to rest on her lower back pushing her closer into him. She tilted her head to the side deepening the kiss, his tongue slid against hers, the kiss became hot and dirty.

 

“Can I take your shirt off?” He asked against her lips.

 

“Yes absolutely!"

 

He went to pull the vest top over her head but it got stuck, they started to laugh as he tried to yank it off her. When it was off he stared down at her, a look of hunger in his eyes, her chest was completely bare. She suddenly felt a little shy. It wasn’t the first time someone had seen her naked but this was the first time it had really meant anything.

 

“Are you going to just stare me?” She nervously teased him.

 

“I’m sorry it’s just that you look so beautiful .” He told her.

 

“Oh.” She stammered before clearing her throat. “It doesn’t seem fair that I’m the only one shirtless.”

 

He playfully rolled his eyes at her. “Jesus someone’s eager.”

 

He pulled his shirt over his head, there was a dull ache between her legs as she took in the definition of his torso and the slope of his shoulders.

 

“I mean come on, seriously how do you look like that?” She asked in frustration.

 

He only laughed before leaning back into kiss her, his hands came up to cup her breasts. He gently squeezed them as they continued to kiss, she sighed out in pleasure.

One of his hands slipped down her body moving lower until it reached the waistband of her pyjama shorts. He stopped kissing her for a moment his gaze met hers, she nodded giving him permission.

She was pretty sure she had forgotten how to breath. He pressed one finger into her working at her good. When he added another finger she begun to pant as she leant against him, it was difficult to stand.

 

She placed her hand against his lower stomach. “Can I-?”

 

“Yeah.” He shakily said.

 

She slipped her hand into his pyjama bottoms and gripped him. She shivered with how hard he already was. She started to pump him back and forth. He bit his bottom lip swearing softly. They both moaned as they touched each other.

 

“I don’t think I’m gonna last.” He told her.

 

“Let’s move to the bed.” She agreed, ready for what was coming next.

 

They helped each other remove the last of their clothing, he pulled her onto his lap so she was straddling him. Her breasts were flush against his chest. She groaned when he accidentally brushed against her below.

She moved her lips against his, this time the kiss was much more frenzied. She gripped his shoulders as he finally pressed into her. Neither of them moved for a moment, they gazed at one another chests heaving unable to believe this was actually happening.

His hands moved to her hips helping to move her against him. She ground herself down on him, it felt so good. She fell against him resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around waist pulling her more into him.

 

“You’re doing so good, fuck.” He told her, she could hardly even speak.

 

He flipped them over so he was on top and she was laying on her back. One hand fisted the sheet above her head whilst the over grasped at her thigh. She clung to him, clutching at his back as he continued to thrust into her, the head board smacking against the wall. When he let out a particularly loud moan it made her clench around him. He pounded faster into her, when he hit a certain point she saw literal stars.

 

She let out a whine. “I think I’m gonna-“

 

“Yeah me too oh god.”

 

They finally came together, both crying out so loud she was scared someone had heard. They both lay next to each other sweaty and panting, neither of them speaking for a few moments.

 

She looked over at him and smiled. “I mean that was just-wow.”

 

He smiled back at her. “I know right, has it ever been like that for you before?”

 

She shook her head. “No, it’s never been like that.”

 

“I wish we’d done it sooner.” He said.

 

She turned on her side to look at him.

 

“I wanted you so bad when we were skinny dipping the night of the party.” She admitted.

 

“I wanted you when I saw you in that red bikini for the first time. It’s embarrassing to admit but I immediately got hard.” He let out an embarrassed laugh.

 

She lightly slapped his arm. “So that’s why you wouldn’t get in the pool!”

 

They continued to talk late into the night until eventually they fell asleep, neither of them once thinking of the future.

Taglist: @emitaylorsverson @twiceinabluemoon @real-lana-del-rey @jess-rye @billyismyidol23

[blamemma]

things you said through someone else, maxiel! ❤️

"Lio," Max asks, beginning to pull all the water toys out of the cupboard. "Could you take these to Daniel please?"

He hands over two water guns, covered in dust, Australian sand turning them a muted red.

"Uncle Daniel?" Lio asks.

"Yes, Uncle Daniel." Max responds, biting his lip, attempting to hide how much it means how easily that reference to Daniel rolled off Lio's tongue.

Leo wraps his arms around the water guns, clutching them tight to his chest. He stays lingering, rocking back and forth on his ankles. Max looks at him, hard, urging him on to ask whatever question is on the youngsters mind.

"Will you and Uncle Daniel have a big party like Mumma and Papa did last year?" Lio finally asks.

The question startles Max. A ring, hidden in his bedside cabinet, is confirmation, that yes, there will be another big party, soon.

Max wants to ask Daniel on Christmas Day, in the quiet of the evening, everyone subdued with full bellies, take Daniel outside as the sun is setting and ask him to be Max's forever. To be Daniel Ricciardo-Verstappen.

But to hear Lio ask it so brazenly. Brings the thought of it to the forefront of Max's mind. Imagines his family rallying around Max and Daniel like they did for Victoria and Tom. A celebration. Max wants it. So bad.

"A big party?" Max asks back, teasing Lio like he doesn't know what the younger is asking about.

"Yes! Where Mumma wore a big dress and I got to dance a lot!" Max laughs at his nephew gently, kneeling down so he's eye-level with him.

"Yes, Lio, one day soon me and Daniel will have a big party."

"And I'll be invited?" Lio asks, clutching the water guns ever closer to his chest, like he's worried Max will take them away due to his incessant questioning.

"Of course, you will play a very important role. Chief dancer!" Lio squeals in excitement at Max's answer, the water guns falling to the ground as his small arms shoot into the air in celebration. "But first, I need you to get those water guns to Daniel, okay?"

Max watches as Lio scuttles over to Daniel, his legs moving faster than they can carry him, slightly unbalanced due to the heavier top-weight.

Max digs back into the shed, grabbing some old inflatables, and a few more toys, and turns around to walk over to where their families are gathered around the pool.

He watches intently, as Daniel kneels down to Lio's height, the water pistols thrown to the side.

Daniel's face is screwed together, puzzled, as Lio animatedly talks with his hands, telling Daniel what seems to be a very exciting story.

It clicks for Max, all too slowly. Lio starts to dance around, gestures outwards around his waist, a big dress. Daniel's face starts to morph into something else. A gentle smile on his face directed at Lio. Max's favourite one. The one Daniel has when he tells Max he loves him.

----

Later that night, Daniel fresh out the shower with wet curls, making his home on Max's chest where he falls asleep every night, he mutters, "A big party, hmm?"

Max squeezes him tighter to him, a reassuring weight against his pounding heart. "Or a small one."

"It's a yes either way." Daniel responds after a moment, twisting his body to reach up to Max and kiss him, a hand snaking into Max's hair to pull him closer. "Not to the big dress though." He says between kisses.

[dreamofbecoming]

here we are at last! there have been a bunch of posts lately about how neither eddie nor robin have any gaydar to speak of, but steve canonically does, and also vickie definitely left fast times paused on purpose as a flag, and frankly all of you are just so objectively True and Correct that i had no choice but to write about it. parts 1 and 2 not strictly necessary for context but definitely set in the same universe

part 1 part 2 ao3

platonic stobin, rockie, steddie

rating: t

wc: 8.4k (holy fuck it got away from me)

---

Robbie isn't drunk yet, but she's getting there.

Honestly, Steve should probably slow her down, but what the hell. They're celebrating, after all. He'll cut her off in a bit, but she deserves to have some fun. They all do.

It's been three weeks since Eddie got out of the hospital, one since he was finally let off bedrest. Or, not exactly bedrest, but enough restrictions that he was basically confined to the trailer (brand new, courtesy of Owens and his goons), and from the way he complained the whole time you'd think they had him chained to the bedposts.

Hm. Maybe thinking of Eddie chained to bedposts isn't the best use of Steve's time. Not here, anyway. That's a Later activity.

It's the first house party any of them have been invited to since Spring Break, thrown by one of Robin's band friends. None of them planned on going, except that two days ago a frantic call came over the All Hands channel on the walkie that El had finally broken through, Max was awake, and the doctors thought her arms and legs would eventually, almost, make a full recovery, granted with lots of physical therapy.

Apparently the only useful thing Vecna ever did was break her bones at right angles so they could set them cleanly. Her vision will probably never fully return, but she's alive. She's alive, and she's awake, and she's apparently being a complete menace to the nurses, which is more comforting to Steve than any of the rest of it, so how could they ask for anything else?

Steve still feels like he's taking his first real breath after drowning every time he inhales. He's not sure he'll ever stop feeling this relief. It's so sharp it's almost painful.

So they're at this party, and they're celebrating. There's a real celebration planned, of course, with the whole Party and assorted extras, Murray (ugh) and Jonathan's California friend (who seems nice), Joyce and Hopper (and isn't that a trip) and Eddie and Wayne (Eddie read him in immediately, to no one's surprise) and everyone else. They've got plans to descend on Steve's house as soon as Max is allowed out of the hospital, where they'll presumably trash his mother's nice white carpets and eat through his snacks like locusts and enrage his neighbors with their shrieking in the pool. Hopper and Wayne will fight over who gets to work the grill until Joyce gets fed up and takes over and Eddie will commandeer the sound system and Robin will laugh at Steve for frantically switching between Host Mode and Lifeguard Mode until she finds someone big enough to sit on him and make him eat something. He can't wait.

But for now, they're at this party, and they're celebrating. With someone else's alcohol, which is a nice treat for Steve.

He's leaning against the wall by the kitchen doorway, sipping something Robin made him that tastes like paint thinner and looks like undiluted red food dye. He's surprised it hasn't eaten through the bottom of the cup like that green gunk from the elevator. He doesn't quite feel like joining the crush of people in the living room. He's felt a little off since Spring Break, a little lost inside his head. He knows Robin can tell, but she hasn't pushed him, other than dragging him here tonight. He's so grateful for her he thinks he could cry.

He doesn't, though, he just watches her from the kitchen doorway, squished on a couch between Vickie and who he thinks might be one of Eddie's bandmates. He recognizes him from those nights he would pick the kids up from Hellfire at the school, and also from Eddie's hospital room. He's got fluffy hair and a flannel shirt around his waist. Gary, maybe? Garth? Steve's not sure. He'd introduce himself and find out for sure, but apparently, carrying Eddie's bleeding not-quite-corpse on his back into the hospital and throwing around his father's name until someone agreed to treat him before collapsing in the lobby from his own injuries wasn't quite enough to erase the contempt for King Steve, so Steve's been mostly avoiding those guys. Eddie swears he's working on it. Steve...should maybe care more than it feels like he does. He thinks maybe a lot of things should feel more...more, than they do. But that's a problem for Later Steve. It's fine. He's fine. He's handling it.

He watches Robin, and she's laughing, and she's not quite drunk yet, and he's glad for her. This is what he wanted. This is what he wished for, on that flipped over bucket, in that field. That they'd all get through it. That they'd all get to keep smiling and doing stupid teenager shit. He maybe wishes he felt a little more like someone who wanted to do stupid teenager shit and a little less like someone watching his friends have fun from behind a plate-glass window, but he'll take it. Whatever he can get, he'll take it.

He looks back at Robin, and, huh. She's still laughing, but now she's between Eddie and Maybe-Gary-Maybe-Garth. He follows Robin's less-than-subtle (crimeny, this girl, he's gotta teach her a goddamn poker face) longing gaze and sees a flash of red heading for the back door.

This feels like a chance to do something useful. Robin will be ok, Eddie will keep an eye on her.

He follows Vickie out the back door. He finds her leaned against the back of the house, her eyes closed, her head tilted back. She's smiling. She really is pretty, Steve can see why Robin likes her. God, he hopes he's right about her. Either way, he's determined to find out. It's what Robin deserves.

"Hey, Vickie. Come out for some fresh air?"

Her smile gets bigger when she turns to him. He really hopes he's right about her, she's a fucking sweetheart. He hopes he isn't about to do something hugely stupid. Knowing him, he probably is, but also knowing him, he's gonna do it anyway.

"Hey Steve! Yeah, I was just getting a little warm in there. How about you? Smoke break?"

"Nah, I'm trying to quit. Robin hates them, she keeps stealing them out of my mouth, so it's somehow more expensive and I don't even get to smoke them. Easier to just stop. Which is probably her goal," he laughs.

"You and Robin are pretty close, huh?"

"Oh yeah, platonic soulmates. With a capital P!" He makes an incredibly dorky gesture with his hands, and has to stop himself from facepalming. Great going, dingus.

Still, Vickie's smile gets a little wider, which he thinks is probably a win.

"That's why I came out here, actually. I wanted a chance to talk to you." Her eyebrows go up. Always with the goddamn eyebrows around here. "Not, like, in a creepy way! Or, well, I guess that's what a creep would say, but I swear I'm not! I just meant, because Robin really likes you," shit, too much, "I mean, she likes hanging out with you, and she's my best friend and all, so I wanted to. Um. Get to know you better. You know. For Robin."

"...For Robin."

He groans. "I swear I didn't used to be like this. I used to be able to talk like a normal person. I didn't know that was a skill you could lose! I would have worked harder at it!" She's laughing at him now, but at least she's polite enough to hide her giggles behind her hand. That's something.

He sighs, and throws his head back to take a deep breath and try and come back to his body, like Robin showed him. Having therapist parents sounds like a nightmare to Steve, but it has its uses, he guesses.

He looks back at Vickie, who is watching him with what seems like more amusement than concern, so he's taking that as a win. If she's laughing, she's not running away. He sticks his hand out.

"Hi, I'm Steve. You're really important to the most important person in my life, so I'd really like to be your friend." He tries to give her his most winning smile, but honestly he's a little worried his teeth are still red from that godawful drink.

She grins at him, still definitely laughing at him a little but more genuine than before, and shakes his hand. "I'm Vickie, and you're really important to someone I hope will become really important to me, so I'd love to be your friend."

He doesn't breathe a sigh of relief, but it's a close thing. King Steve decided to stay in tonight, apparently, so he's on his own, and boy oh boy is he worse than he remembered.

"So, new friend, what do you want to get to know about me?"

Thank fuck Vickie's carrying so much of the weight here, honestly.

"We could, uh, talk about movies?" Jesus Christ, where did all the goddamn Harrington Charm go, anyway? Did Vecna eat it?!

There go the eyebrows again. He's cursed, he really is. "Movies?"

"Yeah, you know, I work at a movie store. Or I did, anyway. With Robbie. Pretty sure it went under in the quake though. That or Keith just fired us and didn't bother calling to let us know." He laughs awkwardly. He's doing fucking everything awkwardly, honestly. He hasn't even asked the question yet and he's already sweating bullets. No wonder Bobbie was so scared to confront this head-on. "Anyway, it can tell you a lot about a person, you know. Their favorite movie."

Come on, take the bait. Take it.

She nods seriously at him. "Oh I get that for sure, you can learn a lot about someone by their favorite book. I used to volunteer at the library and there was always gossip about who checked out what romance novel and whether that meant their marriage was on the rocks, you know?" She giggles, hiding behind her hand for a second. "I guess it was kind of mean, but we never said anything to anyone outside the library, and never to their face, you know? It was just something to keep us entertained on slow days."

Fantastic, he can work with this.

"Oh totally, I completely get it. Robs and I did the same thing at Family Video, making up stories about what we imagined people's lives were like that they were renting Casablanca and Gremlins on the same night, you know? Like, what does that evening look like? Which one do they watch first?"

She laughs. Perfect. She took the bait, now he's just gotta reel her in. Or something. He's never been fishing.

"You know, I usually rent my movies from Family Video. Did you guys ever look up my rental history?"

Aaaand, got her!

"You know, I think we did, actually, not that I'm helping the creep allegations," he winks at her. She slaps him on the shoulder. There we go, there's the Harrington Charm. Jesus fuck, where has it been all night? Sleeping?

Moment of truth, here we go.

"Fast Times At Ridgemont High, right?" He keeps his eyes on her face while he says it. He needs to see how she reacts.

She's been watching a raccoon rummaging through the neighbor's trash, but as soon as he mentions the movie, she whips her head around and looks at him sharply.

She studies his face intently in the glow from the floodlights above the garage. Whatever she finds, the fear in her eyes fades just slightly to caution. All good signs.

Fuck, this is harder than he remembers. Talking in code and reading all the subtle little shifts in body language involved in this conversation is stretching muscles in his brain he's forgotten he had. His friends these days all just sort of...say whatever they mean, straight out. He thought it was weird and off-putting at first, but now that he's doing this dance again, he's realizing he hasn't missed it.

The things he does for Robin, honestly.

He can see the moment she decides to trust him, even though she's still tense. She takes a deep breath, like she's gearing up for something. "That's a good one, for sure. You know, I think I maybe forgot to rewind it the last time I returned it? I paused it at my favorite part, but I think I got distracted and never finished it. I hope that doesn't cause too much trouble for you guys at your job. I'd hate to be one of those customers."

Jesus, this chick is brave. She's basically just coming right out and saying it! Holy shit, he's about to get Robbie a girlfriend! Ok, ok be cool. Bring it home, nice and easy.

"Nah, not a problem at all. Besides, I think I remember that tape, and we have the same favorite part, I think. All three of us." Fuck he hopes this isn't a mistake. If he just fucked up and outed Robin for no reason he'll- fuck, he doesn't know what he'll do. Ask El to open the gate back up so he can throw himself into it, probably.

Vickie's eyes go wide. "Robin too?" There's something like hope in her voice. He thinks. He hopes, anyway. Maybe he's just projecting, but he really thinks he's been right on the money from the start. He just needs to prove it to Rob and give them both a push.

"Yeah, Robin too. Now me, I like Fast Times a lot, but I also really like The Outsiders, you know?" A truth for a truth. Nothing is free, he remembers this dance. Trust is always earned.

He didn't realize her eyes could get any bigger, but somehow they do. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. "Really? Uh, me too! Those are...both...really good movies, you know?"

"Totally!" He's grinning now too, he can't help it. He's so excited for Robbie he might explode. This is the most alive he's felt in weeks!

"Not Rob, though, she loves Fast Times, but not so much The Outsiders. She can be, uh. Pretty nervous, you know? To talk about her taste in movies. I think she might be worried you don't like Fast Times as much as she does, but I know she really wants to, uh, watch it with you. So you might have to be the one to, you know, tell her how much you like it, and maybe ask her to watch it together?"

He's getting lost in the metaphor here. That's clear enough, right? Robbie isn't going to believe him about Vickie liking boobies unless she walks up to her and tells her "I like women, go out with me," in very small words, so he really hopes he got the message across. He needs Vickie to take the wheel on this.

Luckily Vickie is nodding enthusiastically. "For sure! I can do that!" She's halfway back to the house, almost tripping over her feet, before she looks back at him sheepishly.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, that was so rude of me, I just got so excited and I wanted to-"

"Hey, no worries, that was the goal, right? This is what I was hoping for when I came out here to talk to you. She, uh..." He shouldn't. He should stick to the code, just in case, he should be careful, it's Robbie's life on the line here.

But it's also her happiness.

"She didn't believe me. About the Fast Times thing. And then we ran into you at The War Zone, and she was totally convinced I was wrong, but I knew I had to ask. Just in case. I just really want her to be happy, you know?" There. He hasn't actually said the words. If it goes sideways, they still have plausible deniability.

And then, well. There's always Plan B. He doesn't exactly want to burn Vickie's house down, but he will. For Robin, he'll do anything.

Vickie is smiling softly at him. She really is sweet, she and Bobbie are gonna be so cute together. He can't wait to tease them into oblivion.

"I'm glad she has a friend like you, Steve."

He scrubs a hand across the back of his neck, feeling weirdly self-conscious. "Yeah, well, you know. You've got a friend like me, now, too, right?"

There's that bright smile again. "Right!"

"Alright, go on. Go get your girl."

Good lord, redheads sure can blush, huh?

He waits a couple of minutes before heading back in himself, enjoying the night air. It's not quite the height of summer yet, so the evenings aren't as muggy as they'll be in a month or so. For the first time since he crawled out of that gate with Eddie lashed to his back with the remains of the rope ladder he cut to protect Dustin, he's feeling the breeze on his skin without feeling like he's wrapped in plastic, like there's a wall around him, keeping from being part of the world. He wants to savor it, in case it goes away again.

When he does make his way back in, he almost trips over Robin, who's grabbing what should probably be her last drink. At least it's just a beer this time, if it was more of that awful concoction from earlier he'd probably take it away from her, pouting be damned. They could have flambéed Vecna with that shit, nobody should be putting it in their bodies.

Her face lights up when she notices him, and she flings herself into his arms.

"Oof, shit, Buckley, doing ok there? You having fun?"

"Sooooo much fun, Stevie!" She nuzzles her face into the crook of his shoulder. Yeah, if she's this cuddly in public, this should definitely be her last drink, especially if Vickie wants to make any kind of move tonight. She's not usually this touchy outside of the really bad nightmare nights. "Missed you though. Where'd you go? My bubba disappeared."

"Aw, Bobs, I was just outside getting some air, I promise. I didn't go anywhere."

She shakes her head stubbornly, her nose dragging along his collarbone. "Noooo, you left. Not now, before. After. In the hospital. We all came back but you left. You went inside your big stupid fluffy head and you don't come out anymore. I miss you."

It's a good thing Robin's face is still hidden in his shoulder, because he can't quite keep his expression from crumpling. He hasn't meant to hurt her, he hasn't meant to hurt anyone, he swears. He's trying, he wants to come back, wants to be normal again, he just...he feels like part of him is still stuck at the bottom of Lover's Lake, watching everyone above him on the surface moving on and living life, but not able to reach them.

He holds her tighter to his chest, petting her hair. It's a mess, like when she first wakes up in the morning. Maybe she fell off the couch or something while he was outside.

"I'm sorry, Bobbin-bird. I didn't mean to go away. I'm working on it, ok? I promise," he murmurs reassurances into her hair, trying to erase the sadness he can hear in her slurred words. He's shit at talking about feelings, especially his own, but not with Robin. Never with Robin. Saying true things to Robin isn't any harder than thinking them to himself, and honestly that's basically the same thing. They pretty much only have the one brain between them.

She pulls back, studying his face closely with bleary eyes, squeezing his cheeks between her hands. "Promise?"

"I promise, Bobbie." He tries to project as much sincerity as he can muster. She's edging past tipsy, but not actually drunk yet, so she should remember this moment just fine tomorrow, and he won't have to do it again.

Who he is kidding? They're definitely having this conversation again tomorrow. Maybe he can distract her with teasing about Vickie. Where did she go, anyway?

Robin grins, apparently satisfied for now. "Good!" She smacks a kiss to his forehead and finally lets go of his face. Thank god. He loves her, more than anything in the world, but she's a goddamned sweaty drunk.

Before she can say anything else, a redheaded streak comes stumbling into the kitchen.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Vickie leans on the kitchen counter, trying to catch her breath.

Steve looks to Robin to see how she'll respond, and, oh. Well, shit. Robin is...frozen, apparently. She's very obviously focused on Vickie, which is good, because otherwise Steve would be having trouble with flashing back to Nancy's thousand-yard stare in the Upside Down, or the whites of Max's eyes, but the part of her brain that lets her, you know, say and do things, appears to have shut down.

Looks like it's Steve's turn with the communal brain, lucky him. Time to step in and save this, if he can.

"Vickie! Hi, you know, I was just wondering where you ran off to? I was about to tell Robin to track you down, to talk about that movie we talked about earlier, but it looks like you found us instead!" He jams an elbow into Robin's side as subtly as he can, but she still doesn't move.

Vickie is looking between them, still breathing a little heavy. "Yeah, I went looking for you as soon as I came back in, but Gareth said-" Gareth! That was it! "-you went to the bathroom, and did you know there are six bathrooms in this house? Who needs that many bathrooms? I think Angela only has one sibling, why would anyone need six bathrooms for four people? That's so crazy! Anyway, I'm glad I found you, Robin. I'm, uh, getting a little overwhelmed with all the people out here, so I was hoping you might want to find a room that's maybe a little quieter, so we can talk a bit? Just the two of us?" Damn, this girl's got guts. Steve likes her.

Robin continues to stand in front of the fridge like the world's prettiest scarecrow. Come on, babygirl, you can do this! He elbows her again.

"Vickie! Hi! Steve, Vickie's here! Hi!" Steve and Vickie both startle a little because, wow, ok, volume, Buckley, damn. Still. Progress.

"Sure is, babe. Tell you what, why don't I take this-" he plucks the unopened beer out of her slack hand, "-and you and Vickie can go sit down somewhere quiet and talk about movies, huh?"

Robin blinks at him owlishly. "Movies?"

He's about to make another veiled reference to the boobies conversation when Vickie blows all of her air out of her nose and stomps one foot like that one girl in the Chocolate Factory movie who reminds him of his cousin Shauna.

"I'm sorry, I can't take it! I just spent ten minutes outside talking to Steve in ridiculous codes and another ten minutes running up and down the stairs in this insane house and I'm exhausted. I can't take the metaphors anymore. Sorry, Steve, no offense."

"Hey, none taken. It's pretty exhausting, you're not wrong. I just had to be safe."

She shakes her head. "No, totally, I completely understand. I appreciate it. I'm just secret coded-out tonight, you know? Robin, do you want to go upstairs with me and talk? I have something to ask you and I'd really rather do it in private, I don't really want any of these people listening, you know?" She waves her hand at the open doorway to the living room, which is still packed with people.

Robbie's head has been bouncing back and forth between them like she's watching a tennis match, eyes wide.

"Huh? Me? What?"

Oh geez. She's shorting out.

"Bobbie, look at me." She meets his eye, and he can see the nerves threatening to overwhelm her. "Trust me?"

She nods. "Uh huh. 'Course, bubba."

Well that warms him right up, but it's not about him right now. "Good. Go with Vickie, babe. It'll be good, I promise." He hopes he can promise that, at least. He's pretty sure he can. And if it goes bad, they always have Plan B.

Vickie holds out a hand, and Robin stares at her like it might bite her, before taking it gingerly. Both girls immediately burst into bright red blushes, and under any other circumstance he would laugh at them, but this is a delicate moment. They need him to be cool. He can be cool. He can be so goddamn cool.

Vickie leads Robin out of the room and towards the stairs, both of them still blushing like crazy and refusing to meet each other's eyes, and Steve can finally let out the breath he's been holding in a whoosh and slump back against the counter. He snags a bottle opener off the fridge- neat, it's got a magnet on it!- and pops the top on the beer he stole off Robbie.

“Well I hate to break this to you, King Steve, but she’s definitely about to steal your girl.”

Steve freezes with the bottle at his lips.

He sets the beer down on the counter and very carefully turns around. Munson is alone, thank fuck. This is fixable. He can deal with a single person. If it had been a crowd, or fuck, god forbid, someone like Gareth, who hates him, and might try and use this? Hurt Robbie to hurt him? Well, he's got his nailbat in the trunk, and he isn't afraid to use it, but he doesn't think Hopper would be thrilled to have to bail him out of jail.

"Whatever you think you heard, Munson, if Robbie gets hurt, it won't matter that you're one of us now. I'll finish what those bats started. I won't be happy about it, because you're a pretty cool dude and I like hanging out with you, but I'll do it for her if you make me." He makes sure his voice is low and even, and he meets Eddie's eyes head on. He wants to be very clear, this is not a joke. He will defend her if he has to.

He doesn't think he'll have to, not from Munson, but he isn't 100% sure, and he's taken enough risks with Robbie's safety tonight. He doesn't trust his luck enough to count on it working out a second time in less than an hour.

Munson's eyes go wide with shock- he clearly wasn't expecting Steve to meet him with quite that much aggression. He puts his hands up in surrender and leans back away from Steve.

Steve fights not to be distracted by the way his torso curves, graceful in a way he has no right to be with his wounds still scabbing over. Not the moment, Steve. Get it together, for fuck's sake.

"Hey, whoa, easy big guy. We're cool, man. Stand down."

There's a tense moment where they just...stand there, sizing each other up, unsure where to go from here.

Eddie tugs a lock of hair in front of his face, nibbling on it nervously. It's cuter than it has any right to be, honestly.

"I didn't- uh. Fuck, man. Please tell me I didn't just tip you off to flirting you didn't notice. It would suck so, so bad if I exposed Birdie without her knowing."

Steve takes a moment to consider this, frankly absurd, situation. He holds up a finger for Eddie to wait a minute, and checks both ways down the hallway outside before closing the kitchen door and leaning back against it to keep it shut. At least now it'll definitely just be the two of them, which is one more than should be having this conversation, but he doesn't see a way out of it, so this will have to do.

When he turns back to Eddie, he looks even more nervous than before.

"I'm perfectly aware of the flirting, considering I'm the one who went out of my way to set them up tonight. You didn't out anyone, and I should have been the one to make sure the door was closed before I got them in a room together, so it's not your fault for finding out. You understand you can't say anything to anyone, ever, though, right?"

Because he's apparently doomed to be accosted with eyebrow raises from everyone around him anytime he says anything at all until he dies, Eddie's are lost somewhere under his bangs. He looks...impressed. Huh, that's kind of nice. Steve resists the urge to preen.

"'Course, man, I'm well-versed in the code of silence." Something in his face softens, and Steve can feel the sincerity in his next words. "Birdie's a friend, and Finnegan seems like a real sweetie, I wouldn't ever want to hurt them like that. Cross my heart." He does, in fact, draw a cross on his chest with one long, ringed finger. What a dork, holy shit. Steve wants to put that finger in his mouth.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be so cool with something like that. In general, but also especially since you and Buckley are, y'know." He waves his hand expansively around his head, the kitchen lights glinting off his rings, and Steve has to fight the urge to bat at it like a cat with a laser pointer. Jesus Christ, Harrington, focus. The man just called you a homophobe, get your shit together.

He decides, very magnanimously, he thinks, to ignore the homophobe bit, honing in on the rest. "Me and her are...what, exactly?"

"I mean, aren't you guys like, a thing?" Oh Jesus fuck. Not again.

"Ugh, no, where the hell do people keep getting that? Robin and I are just friends, ok? Platonic soulmates. Capital P!" He throws his hands in the air in frustration.

"-capital P," Eddie choruses with him, "I know, I know, I just, shit, man, I dunno, I figured you were..."

"Were what?"

"...Lying? Shit, that sounds worse out loud, sorry! I just mean, because, you know, Henderson keeps saying-"

"Oh, well if Henderson says it, it must be true," Steve rolls his eyes.

"Well fuck me for trusting the kid who calls you his best friend, I guess!"

They glare at each other across the room for a minute, before the ridiculousness of this moment catches up to Steve and he drops his chin to his chest, huffing a laugh.

Eddie looks confused, and still nervous, and a little incredulous. Also a lot adorable, but that doesn't feel relevant. "Ok, I'm so lost, man. I just came in here for a beer, and this has been an emotional rollercoaster I was unprepared for."

Yeah, that about sums it up.

He hasn't spent much time with Eddie since he woke up, spending those weeks juggling babysitting duties and his own injuries and helping with the relief effort and sitting vigil at Max's side. He popped in on Eddie when he was in the building for Max, but the Munson room always had someone in it- Wayne, or Dustin, or Mike, or one of the Corroded Coffin guys- and Steve always felt a bit like an intruder. So he hasn't had a chance to feel out the suspicions he formed during that surreal week when everything was still in the process of exploding, and honestly he's been feeling a little too distant to work up the energy to bother. Robin's bugged him about it once or twice since March, but he shrugged her off each time and she hasn't brought it up in a while.

Ah, what the hell. It's already been such a weird night, and Steve is honestly feeling better than he has in weeks, and he wants to ride this high wherever it'll take him.

Emotional rollercoaster, huh? Well, Steve can make that worse.

At least Eddie hasn't seemed homophobic, kind of the opposite, actually. That's a good sign if Steve's ever seen one.

He pushes off the door, stalking toward Eddie with intent and digging deep inside himself for whatever remains of the person he used to be, who could drop panties with a single look. Eddie's eyes go very round, and he stumbles back a little into the counter.

"You know, Munson, I've had a question I've been meaning to ask you for a while now. Haven't found a good moment."

"Oh yeah?" Eddie's voice comes out in what can only be called a squeak, and Steve feels powerful. That rush of confidence he hasn't felt since BN (Before Nancy) fills his chest, and he can feel his grin turn sharp. "Ho- uh." Eddie clears his throat. "How long's a while?"

Steve purses his lips, relishing the way Eddie's eyes drop down like he can't help it and his cheeks flush, and pretends to consider the question. "Oh, since Skull Rock, probably."

"O-oh? That's. Um. That is a long time." He's still staring at Steve's lips. Good. "Well, shoot, Stevie-boy. Ask away."

Steve lets his smile spread across his face slowly, keeping Eddie's eyes where he wants them. Yeah, he's still got it. Like riding a bike.

"Do you wear this bandana on purpose, or is it just a fashion statement?"

Eddie's eyes snap up to meet his own, shocked.

"Wh-what? Bandana? I. Um. What?"

"Are you flagging, Eddie?" Steve doesn't back up, toe to toe with Eddie as he reaches out and tugs lightly on the hanky trailing out of his back pocket, as always.

He may not have had the energy to talk to Eddie about it yet, but his curiosity did get the better of him after the "earthquakes," and he did dig out that zine where he originally learned about the code. He knows what a black hanky in the back left pocket means now. It's...a little daunting, but not a turn-off. Not at all. Kind of the other thing.

God he hopes Eddie knows what it means.

Eddie seems floored by this line of questioning. He's bright red and sputtering, his mouth opening and closing without saying anything. Steve lets himself stare. This'll go however it goes, but he's not ashamed. He's no more embarrassed to want Eddie than he would be to want a girl, which is to say, not at all.

"I- you- what? What? You- you know what flagging is?" He hisses the end of the sentence in a harsh whisper, so much like Robin did when he first told her about his crush that he can't stop himself from giggling.

Wrong move, since Eddie clearly takes this personally, and his expression shutters closed. Whoops.

"Hey, hey, no no no, none of that, hey. I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, I swear."

"Right, sure, I believe that, considering there's nothing goddamn else to laugh at in this kitchen, Harrington." Eddie is glaring at the floor, arms crossed defensively across his chest.

Alright, maybe he gets what Vickie was saying earlier. Fuck the codes, fuck the metaphors. He can take Eddie in a fight if he has to. He's a simple guy, ok? He just wants to use his goddamn words.

Robin would be so proud.

He goes slowly, telegraphing every move so Eddie can stop him if he wants. He reaches for his hands where they're tucked into his elbows, gently easing them out until they're clasped between them.

He takes the opportunity to finally feel those rings he's fantasized about, seeing if they're as cool as they look. They aren't, they're warm from Eddie's skin. He spins one of them around Eddie's finger with his thumb, transfixed.

Eddie still looks tense, but now instead of hurt and distrust on his face, he looks like Steve hit in him in the head with something heavy. His pretty eyes are so big, blown completely black as he stares at their joined hands.

"I'm sorry I laughed. I was remembering the first time I told Robin I had a crush on you," Eddie's head snaps up again, "and she sounded exactly like you did just now, with that angry whisper voice. It made me laugh, that you guys are so alike. It makes sense, I guess. She's my favorite person, so of course I'd like you, when you're like. Not the same, I guess, but kinda a similar flavor of weird. She says I have a thing for nerds, y'know?"

Eddie blinks at him for a minute, apparently speechless. Some nerves start to creep back in, since the brief miscommunication scare burned out most of that white hot King Steve confidence in his chest. They must show on his face, because Eddie visibly shakes himself and finally opens his mouth.

"You have a crush on me?"

"Yeah, man, since the Upside Down, pretty much. The first time."

"Don't call me man when you're telling me you have a crush on me!"

Steve has to laugh at the comically offended look on Eddie's face. "Sorry. Do you prefer Eds? Baby? Big Boy?"

Eddie is so red Steve is surprised his face isn't steaming. He yanks one hand out of Steve's grip to smack him in the chest. Steve laughs and lets him, dropping their still-joined hands down between them and tangling their fingers.

"You're a fucking dick, Stevie. Can't believe I like you."

Steve grins at him, big and hopeful. "Yeah? You like me, Munson?"

Eddie shoves at him with a groan, but doesn't let go of his hand. "Pretty sure everyone in this town likes you, King Steve. It's like a rite of passage, or something."

Steve feels like he could walk on air, he isn't even going to get fussy about the King Steve thing. They can talk about that later. Eddie likes him! Eddie has a crush on him! He could fight a demogorgon with his bare hands right now, that's how powerful he feels.

Eddie gets quiet after a second, tugging a curl in front of his mouth again. Seems like a nervous tick, maybe. Steve notes that for later. He may not be much of a reader, but he's going to learn to read Eddie Munson like a book if it's the last thing he does.

"I thought, um. I kinda...hn. Ugh."

"Gonna need more than that, baby, I'm not fluent in Munson yet." That glow in his chest picks up a little again at the way Eddie flushes so pink and pretty at the petname.

"I thought you were straight." It comes out all in a rush, the words mumbled and slurred together through his hair.

Finally, it's Steve's turn to raise an eyebrow. Take that, universe! "You meet a lot of straight guys who know what the Hanky Code is?"

Eddie shakes his head in wonderment. "Still can't believe The Steve Harrington knows what flagging is."

He's about to reply when the kitchen door flies open with a bang that sends the boys leaping backwards away from each other. Steve finds himself braced between Eddie and the door, brandishing the bottle opener from the fridge in front of him like a knife. He doesn't even remember grabbing it.

Robin is standing in the doorway, eyes wild and hair frizzing out around her head in a way she would despise if she was sober and not obviously preoccupied with something else.

"Jesus, Robs, you about gave me a heart attack, what the hell?"

"Sorry bubba, not important right now!"

He rolls his eyes. Of course not. Just his trauma that could have made him stab her if he hadn't caught himself, nothing major. This girl, he swears.

"Dingus! Focus!"

"Focus on what, Bobs?"

"She wants to kiss me, Steve!"

His eyes go wide. Thank fuck the door bounced off the wall and swung back shut behind her. That's not something to shout to a party full of gossipy strangers.

Still. This is a big moment! "Bobbie! What'd I tell you, huh?" He picks her up around the middle, swinging her around while she cackles wildly and bats at his shoulders.

"Put me down, you lunatic! Steven Elizabeth, you put me down right now, or I swear I'll never speak to you again!" She's laughing too hard for him to take her seriously, though.

He does take pity on her and set her back on her feet, stealing one more tight hug. He's so happy for her he could scream. This night has turned out better than he could have imagined.

"Tell me everything! What happened! What did she say? What did you say? How was the kiss?"

"Well we didn't actually kiss yet, exactly."

"Wait, then how do you know she wants to kiss you?"

"She told me! She said she thinks I'm really pretty and funny and smart and she's like you! She likes both, and she says her and Dan are done, like for real for real all the way done, and she held my hand, Steve! And she wants to go on a date! And she said she wanted to kiss me!"

"That's awesome! I'm so happy for you, Bobs. What did you say when she said she wanted to kiss you?"

"I came down to tell you about it, obviously."

Oh, Bobbie, what the fuck. "Robin James Buckley. Do not tell me that a pretty girl tried to kiss you and you ran away and left her upstairs!"

The situation finally seems to register, and Robbie's hands go flailing around her face the way they do when she's overwhelmed.

"Oh no! Steve! Oh no!"

"Go, you insane person! Go back upstairs right now and kiss her this minute! Go!"

He physically herds her to the door, at which point she finally notices Eddie, who has been standing in the corner where Steve shoved him behind him when the door crashed open, watching them like he's wishing he had popcorn.

Fuck. Steve was so excited for Robbie he totally forgot he was here.

Robin's body goes rigid and all the color drains out of her face all at once.

Steve grabs her by the shoulders. "Hey, Bobbin, eyes on me, ok? Eyes on me." She finally drags her eyes away from where she's been staring at Eddie in horror, and Steve's heart breaks at the fear on her face. "It's ok, Bobbie, I swear to god it's ok. I was right, alright? I was right about him, we were talking before you came in. He's safe, I swear. We're safe, Bobbie, I promise I'll keep you safe."

"I promise I won't say a word, Birdie. Friends of Dorothy gotta stick together, right?" Eddie pipes up from the corner, stepping forward slowly and carefully, hands out front like he's approaching a skittish animal.

"You're- you're like u- me?" Oh, he loves her so much. Still protecting him, just in case.

"It's ok Bobs, I told him about me. I was about to get a kiss of my own before you came in, I think, actually."

Eddie jumps on the opportunity to cut the tension, ever the showman. Steve likes him so goddamn much. He grins impishly at Steve, that wide pretty mouth stretching out until those dimples Steve can't wait to kiss appear on his cheeks.

"Oh, you were, were you? Pretty presumptuous, Stevie-boy. Who says I kiss on the first date? Maybe I'm not that kind of boy."

"Oh, wow, ok, this is gonna be a lot to deal with, huh? Alright, I'm glad I'm not getting hate-crimed, and I'm glad you're finally doing something about your big gay crush, Dingus, but if you'll excuse me, I have a girl to kiss, and also I want to be far away from," she waves a hand between them, "whatever this is. Good luck boys, don't kiss in unlocked rooms! Vickie says she can give me a ride home, so I'll call you in the morning, bubba. Love you bye!"

She's out of the room like a shot, hopefully back up to Vickie, who he hopes is prepared to get used to this kind of thing. There are so many things to love about Robin Buckley, and honestly, this is one of them, but he can see why she might be an acquired taste. He thinks anyone who doesn't acquire that taste is a moron and not worth knowing, but he can see how those people might exist.

"Love you too, Robs!" he calls down the hallway, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it. It's not a lock, but as long as he doesn't move, it'll do. And given that Eddie appears to have found his confidence and is leaning over him, bracing his arms on either side of Steve's head, he doesn't think he'll have to move any time soon.

Unless someone needs the kitchen, but they've been doing just fine so far, so they can burn that bridge when they come to it, or whatever people say.

He reaches down to toy with Eddie's belt loops, tugging him close and grinning up at him through his eyelashes, privately thrilled at the novelty of being shorter than his partner for once. Granted, he's slumped down the door a little, but still. It's nice. He can see why girls like it.

Eddie comes closer easily, resting their foreheads together. He reaches down to fiddle with a lock of Steve's hair and Steve feels like leaning into it like a cat getting its ears rubbed.

Lot of cat feelings tonight. He's not sure what to do with that.

"So.”

“So.”

“Steven Elizabeth, huh?"

Steve can't help but laugh, the tension broken once more. "Yeah, Rob's idea. We switched. Steven Elizabeth and Robin James. So we always have a piece of each other."

"Jesus H Christ, you guys are fucking adorable. This shit is why everyone thinks you're dating, though, you know that, right?"

"Ugh, yeah, I know. I don't actually mind, I mean, I should be so lucky, you know? And she's like. My person. My most important person. And we're probably gonna get married someday just so we can be each other's next of kin, and because it's not like she could marry whoever she ends up with anyway, or me if I end up with a guy, so it's like, why not, you know? I'd be building my life around her anyway, might as well make it legal.

"It's mostly just annoying when our friends don't believe us, because like, we're honest with you guys. Maybe not all of it, like Robbie isn't ready to be out and that's fine and she shouldn't have to be, but it kinda sucks that, like, Dustin thinks I would lie to him, you know? Because I wouldn't. Not about something real. Not when it matters. But he doesn't believe me, and that just. I dunno, man."

"It hurts."

"Yeah."

"I get that. You've been through a lot for these kids, you've put yourself on the line for them, you've given up a lot for them, and when they don't believe you about something like this, it feels like they're saying they don't trust you. Of course that hurts."

Steve swallows down the tears that want to fall. Now isn't the time for vulnerability like that, not in a stranger's crowded house. Still.

"How'd you do that?"

"Do what, sweetheart?" Oh, sweetheart does something to him. If this is how Eddie felt when he called him baby earlier, the blush makes more sense.

"Figure out exactly what I'm trying to say, and make it make sense. Usually only Robbie can do that."

"I dunno, maybe Birdie and me share a brain. Or maybe you and I just make sense to each other."

Steve flattens a palm against Eddie's chest, feeling the soothing thump beneath his hand. He did that. He put his hands on Eddie's chest and his mouth on Eddie's mouth and broke Eddie's ribs and didn't stop until that rhythm started up again. And now Eddie's here, and Eddie's heart is still beating, and Eddie hears him when he talks, and Eddie is looking at his lips again, and Steve suddenly can't go another second without kissing him.

He trails his hand up Eddie's chest, over his neck, savoring the way his breath hitches and the pulse under his palm speeds up. He keeps going, pushing his fingers into that thick riot of curls, already making mental notes of the products he's going to buy for Eddie because Jesus Christ, they're dry.

He tugs, and again, Eddie comes easy. It's not an earth-shattering kiss. There's no tongue, and their noses are a little smushed, and the angle is a little off, and he's kissed enough people that he can tell Eddie probably hasn't, but none of that matters.

He told Robin, back in that field, that he was holding off feelings he knew he would have for Eddie when all was said and done. He knows now he was right, and he's done holding them off. Has been done for a while, maybe.

He doesn't know where this is going, or what Eddie wants, or how they'll manage being two guys in a town like Hawkins, or what their friends will think. If they'll even tell their friends. What he does know is that he wants to find out the answers to all of those, and he wants to find them out with Eddie, and he wants to keep kissing Eddie, and also that he can't keep kissing Eddie here.

He pulls back, pecking that dimple finally, partly to reassure Eddie that he isn't running away and partly because he's wanted to for weeks, and pulls the kitchen door open, checking that the coast is clear before grabbing Eddie's hand and dragging him towards the front door.

"Where we going, Stevie?"

"You drove here, right?"

"Sure did. You want a ride somewhere? I thought you drove Birdie."

"I did, but you've got your van, don't you? Your van with doors that lock and a big open back seat?"

Eddie's eyes go wide, and he flails a little, just like Robin. It makes Steve smile.

"Yep! Yes, yeah, hell yeah, I do have my van, my van with those things, let's go! Chop chop, time's a-wasting! Your chariot awaits!" And he's off, doing that dorky little run for the driveway.

Steve grins, and puts his hands in his pockets, and follows his boy out into the night.

[otomiyaa]

Luigi Wins (by doing absolutely nothing)

Bowser x Luigi

A/N: This was going to be a 2-part fic but I ended up writing the whole thing before I could even consider what kind of poll to add. *shrugs* works I guess. Thank you @weegee-simp69 for the final little push to write some Luigi again.

Summary: Bowser confronts Luigi about his interesting strategy to win a game. Inspired by Mario Party and the classic Luigi Wins By Doing Absolutely Nothing series. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 1.3K

The little star was sparkling brightly in the hands of Princess Peach. Toad was holding up a little flag, and the water was shimmering beneath them.

"Everyone ready? On your marks!" Toad chirped, addressing the participants in their weekly game competition: Mario, Wario, Waluigi, DK, Bowser, Daisy, and Luigi. Luigi took a deep breath and gazed at the group. Since the game only started with Mario and himself and slowly expanded with more and more participants, he was sure it was a matter of time before more would join.

Of course, everyone wanted to earn these shiny victory stars. He was proud owner of 3 of them. Naturally his brother Mario was in the lead with a whopping 7 so far, and Bowser had already earned 3 as well. Luigi glanced sideways at Bowser, who was already smirking at him before their eyes even met.

"Don't think I'll go easy on you this time," Bowser chuckled. Luigi blushed and nodded.

"Understood," was his humble reply. Bowser was after all, his romantic partner too. As strange as that may sound to many, including himself.

"THREE, TWO, ONE, GO!" Toad almost lost his poor voice as he announced the start of the game, and luckily he didn't need to tell them a second time. The second he screamed 'go', the little group exploded into chaos.

"E-eh." Luigi hesitated entering the mess as he watched his 6 opponents crash into each other. Today's game was a simple one. They were all on a star-shaped platform and needed to push each other off. Underneath them, a cold pool of water was awaiting them.

Luigi froze and waited to be thrown into the water, but noticing the others going at each other with so much passion and determination, he slowly relaxed.

Oh? Splash. Wario was the first to fall in. Luigi nervously kept his eyes on Bowser who was, pfft, the second to fall in, followed by DK who was basically dragged along with him.

They really didn't realize he was standing here and doing nothing and - ah, Luigi realized now. This was exactly how he won his other 3 stars. One game he just didn't know what to do, so he stood still and ended up winning. The second he first wanted to observe quietly and also did nothing - yet before he could even take one step, the game was already over and he won. The third one was just like that.

Was this going to be his 4th star? Was he going to win, just like that? A grin was tugging at his lips when Waluigi didn't even get pushed in, but he tripped over his own feet and fell right past Luigi, not even touching him, into the water. Then not only Daisy, but also Mario fell in, in the middle of their little brawl. And before Luigi could realize, Toad's whistle could be heard.

"Game over! Luigi wins!" he yelled. Peach applauded and welcomed him off the star platform. All dry and safe, and now.. hehe, with another sparkling star in his hands. Luigi admired it and smiled proudly.

"Congratulations," she said sweetly. Luigi felt flattered, but did she not see he actually won by... doing absolutely nothing?

Proud with his victory he headed home first while the others got out of the pool and dried themselves.

"Oh yeah," Luigi said to himself, adding the star to his proud collection. Next to the 4-star collection of his own, Bowser's 3 victory stars looked less impressive. Luigi couldn't suppress his giggle. He actually beat him again!

"Are you that happy you won?"

Luigi looked how he came walking in, still wet as he lazily rubbed a towel over his body. He nodded.

"Of course I'm happy," he said, unable to hide his smile. Bowser glanced at his glass display that now had 4 stars in it.

"I noticed something," Bowser said in a serious tone, and Luigi somehow felt laughter bubble up, so he tried to control it. Why, laughter? Why?

"W-what did you n-notice?" he asked.

"You weren't doing anything."

Pffft! Luigi gulped and let out a giggle. He quickly covered his mouth. "I g-guess you m-must've noticed... so early in.. the water..." he managed to say between held back giggles. Bowser cocked his head.

"Pardon?" he asked.

It had started and Luigi couldn't contain it. "Nohohothing," he giggled uncontrollably, shaking with held back laughter. Why was everything so funny? The whole gang including Bowser going at each other so hard they didn't realize Luigi was doing nothing. Luigi then winning while everyone was in the water.

Bowser being among the first to be in the water and noticing Luigi's remarkable, eh, strategy? To win the game. On top of that, his lover Bowser was now acting like this ー

"HAHAHa!" Luigi was startled when suddenly he felt familiar claws rubbing against his sides.

"I guess you've got a laugh stuck in there don't you? I'll help you get it out, it must be itching hmm?" Bowser said teasingly, all of a sudden tickling both of Luigi's sides.

"Wahah- Mahahama Miahahaa- wahahait Bohohowser!" he cackled. Well his laughter was now indeed set loose, with 100% of his voice and more.

"That funny hm?" Bowser said calmly, still wiggling those pesky fingers against Luigi's sides and ribs. Sure this wasn't their first tickle fight, so Bowser knew exactly where to get him to make him weak in the knees. Tickle fight wasn't even the correct term here.

"Nohoho! Okahahay I'm sohohorry!" Luigi laughed, falling on his knees, but Bowser scooped him up without effort and tickled his tummy almost as if he was a little baby.

"Sorry for what? I don't understand," Bowser said while Luigi's laughter was all over the place. He kicked his legs and flailed his arms more.

"Huwahahah! For lahaha-laughihihing! Ahahaha!"

"Why would you apologize for that? Like I said, I'm helping you get that laugh out that was stuck. What were you laughing for anyway? Don't tell me you were laughing at me?"

Bowser was such a goofball, such a tease! Luigi couldn't do anything but laugh about it, and laugh because he was being tickled, and laugh because he was just... happy.

"Well?" Bowser sang, rubbing little circles against Luigi's tummy. Oh right, he asked a question.

"Ohohonly a lihihittle!" he admitted through hysterical giggles.

"Only a little hmm?" Bowser acted as if he was going to eat him, growling and nibbling Luigi's side playfully through his clothes, tickling him even more and making him shriek.

"EEehehehee yehehees! I'm sohohorry!" Luigi laughed and he kicked his legs again. Such a tickle monster!

"Plehehease - hehehehe!" he finally begged when he could barely breathe. Bowser noticed and immediately stopped the tickle attack.

Luigi caught his breath, and even though the tickling had stopped, he couldn't keep the smile off his face. He nuzzled Bowser's big arm.

"Really now," Bowser said. Luigi looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Hmm?" he hummed. Bowser rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head.

"You... Even though I tickled you to death, feels like you still won. And you did absolutely nothing," Bowser teased. Ah, Luigi blushed. As tough as he looked, Bowser recently would say stuff like this and it was adorable.

"...Agree to disagree. I laughed a lot, that isn't nothing," Luigi finally argued, but that earned him another poke in his stomach. And another, and another.

"Hohoho ahahalright - no mohohore!" he laughed tiredly, and he was relieved when Bowser switched back to cuddling.

"I know. Congratulations on your victory today," Bowser muttered softly before kissing the top of his head. Who would have thought Bowser could be like this. Not Luigi, nah. He still couldn't believe it, but that didn't mean he wouldn't appreciate it everyday.

"Wait. Are you laughing again?" Bowser asked, noticing his shaking shoulders.

"You're being so cheesy haha!" Luigi laughed breathlessly. However this time instead of tickling him more, Bowser joined in and laughed as well, and they laughed together while the stars were shining brightly behind the glass.

Next week, another chance to win! He was going for 5 stars, but something told him Bowser wouldn't let him get away with doing nothing again. Well, not so easily...

[spideystevie]

💘 + drunk confessions while one is taking care of the other from the fourth prompt list with hangman, please?🤍

can’t even begin to tell you how excited i was to write this one, oh my god. she got a bit longer than my usual blurb but i really hope i did it justice <3 - [1.6k] | join the party!

The phone call you get just before midnight is the last one you’d think to get. Rooster’s on the other line and you can hear the music and loud jeering from the Hard Deck over the phone. It’s hard to hear exactly what he’s saying but you make out enough of it.

Really drunk…asking…pick him up?

With a sigh, you rub at your eyes and slide yourself out of bed. The book you’d been reading before he called gets left haphazardly on your other pillow. 

“I’ll be right there.”

With the streets nearly empty, it doesn’t take you long to get to the bar. It’s loud enough inside that you can hear it muffled outside as you walk up to the doors. There’s a soft push of ocean air that goes right through the fabric of the sweatshirt you’d thrown on before you left. 

It’s crowded inside, though you should’ve expected that with it being the weekend. One after a successful mission, no less. You shoulder your way through hordes of Navy personnel and the occasional local, paying no mind to the strange looks you’re getting for still being in your pajamas at a bar. 

You spot Rooster back by the dartboard and pool tables and he catches your eye over the crowd. He meets you halfway with a relieved look on his face. 

“Sorry we call-” you cut him off before he can say anything else.

“Where is he?” you ask, peeking over his shoulder. You miss the knowing gleam in his eye.  

“Where’d you think?” He turns towards the dartboard and points, your eyes following. Sure enough, there’s Jake, throwing darts at the board and somehow still managing to hit bullseye even when completely drunk. You shake your head and let Rooster help lead you over. 

“Hey, Hangman! Your ride’s here,” he shouts over the crowd. Jake turns around from where he was going to collect the darts with a complete look of confusion. 

“I didn’t call a ride,” he says and Rooster all but smirks. He nudges you forward and Jake’s face seems to light up like a switch was flipped when he notices you.

“What are you doin’ here, sweets?” he asks, completely forgetting about the darts he was trying to retrieve. You try not to let it show how much the pet name affects you.

“Taking you home,” you say. You wave Rooster off, offering him a small thank you for calling. A pout forms on his face as he seemingly remembers what he was doing right before you showed up. 

“But I’m in the middle of a game,” he says, sounding like a little kid whose parents just told him no.

“And you were doing great but we gotta get home, okay?” you ask, coming up to him and wrapping an arm around his waist. He sighs, his chin tucking against his chest. He lets you lead him towards the bar doors, one of his arms coming around your shoulders. 

It’s a bit of a struggle getting him out of the bar. His footsteps are clumsy and he’s leaning on you just a little too much for you to also walk properly. It doesn’t help that the bar is flooded with people. You manage to get him to your car and into the passenger’s side.

He fumbles with the seatbelt and you huff, leaning in and helping him pull it across his chest and clicking it into place. You move so you’re not leaning over him and his head lazily slumps over to look at you. There’s a dopey smile on his face and he reaches up to boop your nose. 

“Pretty,” he says, the word a little slurred. You shake your head but let yourself smile. You lean back completely to close the car door.

“No puking in my car, Seresin,” you try to sound threatening but you doubt he can tell in his inebriated state. He gives you a salute and you laugh a bit, closing the door and moving over to the driver’s side. 

You drive the two of you home, the streetlights sporadically illuminating your faces with a yellow glow. Living with Jake, you were privy to sides of him not many other people were. Drunk Jake was one that rarely came out but proved to be a sight whenever it did. 

When you get to the little place you share, he has to lean almost all his body weight on you while you walk from the car to the front door and inside. You toe your shoes off whilst he all but kicks his off in a pile by the door. While you’re busy locking the front door behind you, Jake disappears off into the living room. 

He collapses in a heap on the couch, body sinking into the cushions. You groan, dropping your keys against the kitchen counter as you head into the room. 

“Jake, c’mon,” you say, a little exasperated with your hands on your hips. He smiles serenely up at you, seemingly amused by you. You move to stand in front of him and hold both of your hands out for him to grab. “We need to get you in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. 

“I am in bed,” he protests, sinking deeper into the couch. You huff, taking a moment to rub at your forehead. 

“No, you’re on the couch,” you say, once again holding out your hands to help him up. He doesn’t budge, going so far as to start to lie down. You purse your lips. “Hangman, seriously. It’s time for bed.”

This seems to stop him in his tracks. His legs come back off the couch, his facial expression dropping. His lips seem to pucker out into a pout as he looks at you. You’re a little confused. 

“Are you mad at me?” he asks. You sigh, your eyebrows pinching together. 

“What?”

“You called me Hangman,” he points out, blinking up at you. His green eyes are almost doe-like. “You only call me that when you’re mad.”

Your shoulders sag and you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. When you open them again, he’s still staring at you with that same kicked puppy expression. You shake your head. “I’m not mad at you, Jake. Just wanna get you to bed, that’s all.”

He blinks at you for a second, considering, and then he’s reaching his hands up towards you. You grab hold of them and step back, helping tug him off the couch. You don’t anticipate the momentum he brings and suddenly, his body is pressed right against yours. 

Your hands have come to press against his chest, a last ditch attempt to keep him from falling on you completely. His face is suddenly really close to yours, the proximity taking your breath away. You think you see his eyes flicker down to your lips but you’re sure it’s just your mind playing tricks. 

“Careful,” you finally mutter and his eyes come up to meet yours. You take a cautious step back, letting your hands fall back to your sides. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You follow close behind him as he walks a little less clumsy down the hall to his bedroom. He sits on his bed while you dig through his drawers for his pajamas. You can hear shuffling behind you but you don’t expect to turn around to a halfway undressed Jake. Your face feels extremely hot. 

“You change while I get you some water, okay?” you leave the pajamas near him and don’t even wait for an answer before you’re leaving the room. You fill a glass from the kitchen with water and grab some pain meds from the bathroom. 

When you come back, he’s changed clothes and crawled into bed. You set the water and pills down on his bedside table carefully. At the sound of your name you look over at Jake. He’s looking at you in a way that makes your chest flutter. 

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for taking me home,” he says and you smile, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. “Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I was never mad at you, Jake,” you say, shaking your head. He just stares at you, moving so he’s propped up more against his pillows.

“I like you,” he says and you hate how it sends your heart racing because he doesn't mean it like that. 

“I like you, too,” you respond. He nearly groans. 

“No, like I really like you. Like, like like you.”

Oh.

Your lips part and your eyes go a little wide. It feels like your heart is trying to break out of your ribcage. You blink at him, fighting back a smile though the ghosts of one curls around your words. 

“You’re drunk,” you eventually say, shaking your head. He hums. 

“Maybe…but I won’t be in the morning,” he says, the look in his eyes seeming more sober now than ever. Your face feels warm and your eyes shine. You smooth out his blankets and press a kiss to his forehead before standing up. 

“Then tell me in the morning,” you muse. You stop at his door, turning to look at him. He’s already staring at you, a small smile on his face. You think this might be your favorite thing about seeing him drunk. His face softened, no sign of the cocky, big ego on his face. “Get some sleep.”

You shut the door as you leave and take a moment to rest your back against it and breathe, hoping he tells you again in the morning.