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tremendouscreationperson · 2 months

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Logan x Reader pt.5

The long awaited reunion

This isn't the last one don't worry

<< Part 4 Part 6 >> Masterlist

You were the last to exit and as though rehearsed your family parted to the left and right revealing him.

Logan was standing next to Wade with a sincere grin. His eyebrows had risen and he let out a shaky breath. It took less than two steps for him to be in your space and scooping you up. Crushing you in a bear hug, one hand caressed your spine, whilst the other tangled in your hair.

“You came.” He breathed into your ear, taking a deep breath.

“Of course, I missed you.” You whispered back, tugging him closer.

Logan pulled back slightly to observe your face, hand sliding down to cup your cheek. He didn't care about his ‘bad boy/couldn't care less’ reputation anymore. He had lost you twice! He loved you and he needed the world to know. “It took a full month to convince the TVA to bring you back and B-15 told us she'd give you the option of staying, I was terrified I'd never see you again.”

The pain behind his eyes was heartbreaking.

“It's okay.” Your hands on his back rubbed small circles, trying to calm him. “I'm here.”

“I love you.” He declared.

And in that moment it didn't matter that he wasn't your first love because you knew he'd be the last. He would be there for you and you'd be there in turn. “I love you, too.”

Logan bent his neck and kissed you. It was easy, slow. He didn't need to rush. He had you now. You were back in his arms.

“Wooooo-hooooo!” Wade cheered. “Gosh guys I'm so emotional I need some tissues… and some lotion… and a gag.”

Logan growled which went straight to your abdomen. Shit. That was hot. He was hot. Fuck you were done for.

El shoved Wade but was chuckling.

“Glad to see you.” You spoke over Logan's shoulder.

“So am I, I tell ya, the moping this guy has done.” He clapped Logan's back. “I'm sure the Cavillrine wouldn't have been such a pussy.”

“The who?” You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion but let Wade babble on about ‘Superman’ and ‘oh my god him in the Witcher?!’.

As Wade yapped he led you all out of illuminati headquarters. He told you that the apartment block which had been brought for you was one that he and Logan currently resided in. He then went on to tell you about his blind roommate and that they were going to throw you a housewarming party at the weekend.

The apartments weren't far, but Wade had booked a - far too small - taxi for you. Resulting in six suited up heroes standing on the sidewalk just staring blankly at him.

“Dopinder, I swear on Blanche, Dorothy, Sophia and Rose, I will beat you.” He threatened the man, taking his mask off to give an unsettling amount of eye contact. “I told you there would be seven!”

“Mr Pool, you know the type of Taxi I drive.” Dopinder argued back. “I can do two trips but it won't be cheap.”

“You sexy little bastard.” Wade's eyes narrowed.

“It’s okay.” Logan interrupted another round of flattering insults. “We can walk back.” He gestured to you and himself.

“Uh, peanut. I may still be at a third grade reading level but seven minus two is five.” Wade used his fingers animatedly to show the maths. “We won't all fit!”

“I can... go with them.” Laura suggested. She looked a little awkward about the idea but she stood by it.

“Aww! Y/N and her Wolverines!”

You frowned. “Why do you pronounce my name like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

“Yeah, exactly!”

The man baffled you but you shook your head letting it go. The others piled into the small vehicle and waved at you as they pulled away from the curb.

“How long’s the walk?” You asked, genuinely curious. You were in New York, that was obvious, the sun beat down on midday traffic, there was the constant buzz of life and you felt at ease. This was familiar in a way which had long been forgotten.

“Give or take twenty minutes.”

You nodded and gestured for him to lead the way. Logan took hold of your hand and pulled you along.

“So, Laura this is New York.” You smiled at her, her eyes were darting around taking everything in.

“It's busy.” She commented.

You chuckled. “This is fairly quiet, or at least for my world it is.”

Laura took the information in, decowling herself. You smiled wider and reached out for her hand.

“Logan, what's it been like living here?”

“I won't say exactly the same.” He scratched his head. “But it isn't really different. The News is on at 4 o’clock rather than 5. For me it's warmer.” For you and Laura it was cooler, years of that boiling wasteland had acclimatised you both. “I like the milkshakes from Joey's.”

“Have you ever had a milkshake?” You all stopped at a crossing. Laura frowned at the lights and you explained what was happening, you also told her the gesture to thank the cars. “Laura, baby, have you had a milkshake?”

She shook her head. “I don't think so.”

“Well, we'll have to pick some up.” You declared.

The walk was pleasant. Your Wolverines were awkward around each other and for some reason that was the cutest thing. They both were at ease with you though so you operated as their interpreter.

Every now and then you stopped to admire a building or a tree or even just look in a shop window, mostly for you but it was also for Laura. You knew she was born in a different time to you. She wasn't used to this level of civilization. She had told you once, when she had snuck into your room after a particularly bad nightmare, that she was raised in a facility. That a nurse had broken her out and handed her off to Logan. That he hadn't been too kind but Charles was. That they spent time on the road and he had died for her. That her and others had to escape to EDEN. But EDEN wasn't all it was cracked up to be, they were safe but they were poor. They were needy and eventually they were transported to the Void.

She was mesmerised by a little sausage dog. You asked the elderly lady if she could pet it and the woman eagerly agreed.

Laura was cautious but after watching you stroke the little fella she did. A surprised grin formed. “He's cute.”

“He's called Harold.” The lady told you as Harold flopped onto his back. “After my late husband.”

“That's very sweet.” You rubbed his belly.

“Why are you lot dressed like that?” She wondered. "You aren't heroes are you?"

Images of backlash and abuse bombarded your mind. Would this lady suddenly hate you like others had? Wait, were you still a second class citizen because you were a mutant? No. That couldn't be true. Not when you had Captain America and Ghost Rider and Venom. How could people love them but hate mutants? “We're going to a fancy dress party.” The excuse tumbled from your mouth. Two sets of wide eyes glanced at you and then each other.

“Well, I'm sure you'll win.” She tutted at Harold. “Come on, fat boy, let's get a move on.”

Harold didn't seem like he wanted to but did eventually follow her, plodding away.

“You don't have to be worried.” Logan reassured you as you rose from the crouched position. “Being a Mutant isn't a bad thing here.”

“It isn't?”

“No. Not here.”

“So you tell me it's warmer but not that being a Mutant is okay?”

He didn't have an answer for that. He had been in as much shock as you that it was alright but he had settled in remarkably easy. He wasn't turned away from bars or eyed suspiciously in the street and he loved it.

“What's a fancy dress party?” Laura questioned.

“It's a party where people dress up as characters or animals or things.”

“And a party is when people are together and eat?”

“Yeah, eat, drink, have fun.” You resumed the journey.

“Okay.” She watched a pigeon fly overhead. “And Wade is having a party for us?”

“Yeah.” Logan grumbled. “His parties are a bit weird but his friends are okay.”

The apartment was nice. There was a safety deposit box which contained your keys, you and Laura had separate homes. You all did. That was daunting. No one else lived in the building except for you seven (plus Blind Al and a pretty ugly dog) so, once you'd exited the elevator, it didn't surprise you at all to find each person's front doors were open.

You followed the sound of Wade nattering on and found everyone crowding a kitchen counter. This must be Wade's house as it was lived in. It wasn't blank and pristine like the others were. Wade stood with the dog - Mary Puppins - cradled in his arms, next to Blind Al. Gambit was to her left, leaning against the counter. El and Blade's backs were facing you.

“And then Blind Al and I found a buttload of- oh hey!” Blind Al’s face swivelled over in your direction. “Al, sweetheart, you know our beefcake Logan, well, there's a mini version of him with boobs and the one he's been a little bitch about.”

“Ah, Y/N.” She gave you an unenthusiastic wave. “Wish I was deaf and blind the way he was going on. Real pussy drier.”

You hadn't expected her to be as crude as Wade but then you really thought about it. If these two lived together yeah they were bound to be alike. They would rub off on each other. That thought amused you because you could literally imagine Wade trying his luck.

“Yes.” El had caught the look on your face as Al spoke, she tried to steer the subject. “They've been telling us about their relationship and how they met.”

“I li’ ‘em. Both a’ bad a’ ‘ch other.” Gambit placed an arm around Al's shoulders. “I li’ her t’ best.”

“Get off my roommate you perve.” Deadpool spoke with the dogs tongue in his mouth, then he addressed you three. “Basically explaining the first two movies. My relationship with Vanessa and how that's going.”

Blade whistled in a way that sounded like it descented. “Poorly.”

“Vanessa?” You glanced around at each member in the room. “Aren't you with Spiderman?”

“Ah.” He placed the dog on the counter. “So movieverse Deadpool has to be straight presenting or the dude bros will bomb it. I can be as gay as I want if I have a girlfriend.”

You filed that into the "this makes no sense to you but you didn't have the energy to argue with him" drawer. In your universe Deadpool had a crush on Spidey and it was plain, to anyone that looked, they liked each other.

“So, the living situation…” You stroked the dog's head when it twaddled up to you. “How are we feeling?”

“It's ‘lotta space.” Gambit voiced your own opinion.

“It'll be nice to have privacy but I won't lock my door.” Blade's eyes had scanned each of your faces and landed on Wade's. “If you're knocking it's locked.”

“I have my own key.” Laura commented. “I've never been alone.”

“How many rooms are they?” You asked the group.

“One bedroom, one bathroom.” El supplied.

That wasn't what you wanted to hear. You and Laura could've shared if there were separate rooms. “If you're scared we can bunk together.”

Wade burst out in maniacal giggles. He had to clutch his stomach to calm himself. “I-I’m so-sorry. Did-did you see the- the way Peanuts face-” He took a deep breath. “Oh, that's good shit. He realised there'd be no sex tonight. Damn, that was hilarious." He wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye.

Blind Al smacked his head with surprising accuracy. “Can I bunk with one of you?”

The TV was on, lowly creating background noise as Laura channel surfed. She was wearing one of the outfits provided. It was a pair of grey joggers and a vest top. She had taken the matching hoodie off a while ago.

“So this is what people do?” She called from the couch as you made a quick pasta dish. It wasn't difficult to boil a pot and throw some pesto and cheese at it but it felt so foreign to be making this, not to be cracking open a tin of spam or fruit salad. To be actually making food.

“Uh huh,” You added salt to the boiling water. “It's like a pretty big pastime.”

She huffed and flicked over to a voice you never thought you'd hear again. Judge Judy. You padded over, barefoot, to the front room. You were wearing a pair of black joggers and a white tee, your feet were cold. “My mom and I used to watch this.”

“She's loud.” Laura looked up at you.

“Yeah, she always put them in their place, though.” You crossed your arms. “My nan, as well. I'd come home and my mom would be passed out watching this. You could just switch it on and she'd fall asleep instantly.” You extenuated the last word with a snap of your fingers.

“What was her name?” Laura's eyes were big.

You told her your mother's name and then your nans. “I don't know if they'd even be alive in this universe.”

“How would we- check?” Laura jumped as Judy yelled ‘baloney’.

“I dunno, I suppose Facebook?” Laura made a face and you waved her off, you'd explain social media at a later date. “We'll have to get phones tomorrow. Start buying clothes as well, get you into music and TV and all the usual teenage shit.”

The door opened and Logan kicked it shut. “I'm back.” He juggled the plastic bags.

“Hi.” You greeted him, helping with the bags.

“We didn't know when you were arriving.” He blushed. You were both standing in ‘your room’, you had begun to pack away your clothes. “I'm sorry, I have some pasta at mine, I can run down the road and get sauce and cheese and other things.”

“Okay, that would be really helpful.” You took your gloves off and chucked them on top of the duvet. “Thank you. Don't get too many things, though, 'cause I'll have to do a big shop tomorrow.”

Logan’s hand twitched to catch yours. No. He needed to leave, he couldn't get distracted. Despite the fact that he really wanted to get distracted with you. No. He couldn't. Laura was currently in the shower, using the imperishable goods that had been provided and he didn't know how long you two would be alone.

“I got a few basics.” Placing the bags on your counter. The layout of your apartment was the same as Wade's, as everyone's, but the colour scheme was slightly different. Your counter was oak, where Wade's was marble.

“A few.” You mocked him watching him unload.

There was the pesto and cheese along with bread, butter, eggs, bacon, bottles of water, two fizzy drinks, chocolate bars, cereal, a multi bag of chips, cookies, all the feminine products in the store and fuzzy socks.

"You knew my feet were cold." Your fingers grazed the socks.

He shrugged, a red tint on his cheeks. "I saw you didn't have many socks and they were in the store so I thought..." He trailed off.

You kissed his cheek and thanked him. He caught your elbow and captured your lips. His lips were soft and delicate, taking you in. Logan pulled back, reluctantly, and placed a final kiss to your temple.

You let your eyes fly to Laura she was pointedly watching Judy, to give you some privacy.

“Laura look!” You picked up the cereal, it was the same brand she favoured in the Void. She looked over and almost split her face with a grin. Laura stood and bounced over to you both. She made a move to open the cereal and you stopped her. “No, missy. Tomorrow morning you can have it how it's meant to be eaten but tonight we have pesto pasta. We have to try and work out what you like so we can buy more food.”

“It's-" Her brows pulled. "We can just buy food.” She looked down. “We don't have to…” She then turned her head away, upset. “Why am I sad?”

“Oh baby.” You rounded the counter and pulled her in. She hugged you tight and sniffled.

“You'll be okay, kid.” Logan spoke. You looked up at him and extended an arm, he took your hand and you eased him into the hug. Logan kissed your forehead and stroked her hair.

“I love you both.” You leaned fully into them, into your man and your child. They were all yours and that was brilliant.

“I love you.”

“Love you, more.” They both replied at the same time.

A hissing noise interrupted the moment and you cursed, scrambling to the pot that boiled over. You turned the oven down and stirred the pasta.

“Logan, can you show Laura where everything goes?” You asked over your shoulder. “We can open both of the drinks, see what Laura likes best?”

He agreed and eased himself into the role of ‘father’ so easily. It suited him so well. He was born to care, either as a dad or a teacher or a friend.

When you previously shared a bed, Laura and you always slept facing each other and tonight was no different. You both went to each individual door and bid goodnight to your family - Logan telling you three times that he was only next door - then came back and settled down.

She held your hand and was able to sleep almost immediately. It was the softness of the blankets, the comfortable pillow, the fresh sheets, the glass of warm milk you'd made for her, the fact that she was full for the first time in years.

She was content.

You, however, were the opposite.

It was too soft, too comfy, too good to be true. You were waiting for the rug to be pulled from under your feet, waiting for someone to tell you this wasn't real. Cassandra had created this as a cruel illusion, you were really back in the Void with her.

Taking meticulous care, you extracted yourself from the bed, she deserved a good night's sleep. She deserved so much more.

You waddled to the fire escape and opened the window. The night was beautiful. Thousands of multicoloured lights shone, illuminating the roads. There was still life on the streets, still takeaways open and people milling about. You wouldn't have had a sight so gorgeous a week ago. It was cockroaches and murderers.

“Hey.” Logan spoke, causing you to jump. He was sitting on the steps to your left, smoking a cigar. He wore pyjama bottoms and nothing else. Fuck me. He was fucking ripped. You would never get used to how perfect his body was.

“Hi.” You climbed through, sitting back on the window sill, crossing your legs for completely innocent reasons.

“Can't sleep?”

You shook your head. “You?”

“I figured you'd find it hard to sleep.” He took another puff.

“What, so you've been out here all night?” You joked and except for the quirk of a brow, his face didn't move an inch, he just kept looking at you as you realised, “you have been.”

“I wanted to be here if you needed me.” He exhaled, smoke swirling towards the sky.

You stood from the sill and were in front of him in seconds, standing between his knees, hands cupping his cheeks. “Has anyone ever told you you're really cute?”

Logan rolled his eyes but smirked at you. “You'd be the first.”

“You are.” You vowed and bent your head.

This was the first time you initiated a kiss. You had told him to kiss you in the Void and you had kissed him back every other time, and you'd kissed his cheek but this was the first time you controlled an actual kiss.

You were tempted to heat it up but a small voice in the back of your head told you to take it slow. You knew you loved Logan and he loved you but you didn't know him. This version was different. You didn't actually know this man. Imagine if he was allergic to prawns or something?

You pulled away and found he chased after you, releasing a shaky breath against your lips.

“Do you want to come shopping with us tomorrow?” You whispered, lips touching his. His hands had found purchase at your thighs and he gave them a frustratingly good squeeze.

Licking his lips just so his tongue grazed yours. “Of course.” He pecked you. “Anything.”

Part 6

@geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @melissa-ashe @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @ravenmedows @vulgarfuckinvirgo77

#logan howlett #logan #logan 2017 #logan x reader #james logan howlett #james howlett #xmen #wolverine #wolverine x men #deadpool 3 #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #wade wilson #wolverine x reader #the wolverine

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inkstainedheartbeats · 3 months

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Part three of this

It’s three days after the negative pregnancy test. Three days of Steve practically tiptoeing around their apartment. And Eddie knows that it’s not personal. That Steve doesn’t even realize how soft and meek he’s gotten. Like a solid seventy-five percent of Hawkins his parents were both Betas. He knows that things weren’t shiny and happy in the Harrington household. That habits are hard to break. Look at him and his food hiding habits he still has even after living with the god amongst men that is his Uncle.

Robin knows. Robin knew the moment that Eddie called to tell her she needed to find another ride in to work. The Beta woman hasn’t left Steve’s side. Stuck to him like a limpet.

They’re sitting at the table. Steve across from Eddie, their feet touching, with Robin resting her head on Steve’s shoulder. Breakfast is growing cold in front of them.

“You said some of it was me,” Steve starts off before cutting himself off. He takes a big bite out of his eggs. Robin makes an encouraging sound from next to him.

“Look, I slept through most of health class. But when we got serious I went to Uncle Wayne.”

Admitting this gets him small smiles, Robin even reaches a hand over to place on his. He knows she’ll always take Steve’s side, that to love one means to love the other so this act of kindness is… it makes him brave.

“One of the reasons that Alphas don’t tend to bare children isn’t just society being fucking sexist. It’s because Alphas produce a hormone that neither of the other secondaries can. And like, normally it doesn’t matter. But it makes pregnancies harder on Alphas. Wayne gave me all sorts of pamphlets on Alpha health, got me in contact with an Alpha ex of his.”

He’s squeezing Robin’s hand.

“I can’t loose you, Steve. I know we’re waiting to Mark each other, I understand why we’re waiting but even without the physical evidence of it, you are my Mate. And if I lost you?”

It was the threat of losing Steve to Vecna that had him breaking the control the bastard had on him. It was the sight of Steve bleeding yet again, standing in front of El, head tilted back like Chrissy’s that had him snapping. Steve was it for him. His heart knew it before his head did and he knows Steve is much the same. He saw proof of it in how skinny Steve was. How rumpled and ill kept he was.

“I am open to children. I would love to see you round and waddling with my pups inside you, Steve, but I am a coward.”

“You’re not. You’re not a coward, Eds.”

Steve’s pushed back his chair from the table. Clambered up onto his lap. Wide hands are buried deep in his hair. They’re not kissing, not yet. Not with Robin in the room. Because kissing like this never stays kissing and while Steve tells her everything she doesn’t want a front row seat to it all.

Steve pours out his own fears. Of his father. Of his mother who tried but still failed in the grand scheme of things. His health.

“I’ve had so many concussions, Eds. Literal brain damage that will some day come and bite me in the ass.”

They’re honest with each other with Robin as their witness. It feels like confession. It feels like marriage. Like a divine oath.

“You make me feel brave, Eds. I’m not scared of this with you at my side.”

“Lady Buckley, might I advise you to flee this luxurious castle for… a couple of hours? I need to show my King just how brave he makes me feel.”

———/———/———/———/———/——

He’s still scared shitless when they test again. It’s been six months and Eddie has fucked Steve on nearly every available surface at every opportunity he can. His stomach rolls and breakfast threatens to make a reappearance. But Steve is in his lap while they sit in the tub.

He’s not quite sure why they have to be in here but something about bathrooms makes Steve feels safe so this is where he sits. He squeezes Steve tight against him as they wait for time to move on by. When the scent of joy fills the bathroom he laughs.

“Thank fuck,” he breathes out.

“Yeah, thank fuck,” Steve echos.

And if they fuck like rabbits in that tub no one has to know.

———/———/———/———/———/——

Hope you don’t mind me tagging you in the resolution @xxbottlecapx

#inkstained rambles #stranger things #steddie

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estrellami-1 · 1 year

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If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Nancy gets back with Jonathan not too long after. He barges in and makes a beeline straight for Steve. “You know where Will is?”

Steve nods. “There’s a lot to explain.”

“Then you’d better start soon.”

Robin, his savior, steps in. “C’mon, Jonny-boy, let’s go for a walk.” She leads him outside, and Steve can hear her start. “What do you know about time travel?”

He smiles and looks around. He can hear Eddie upstairs, practicing the song. The boys are occupied with planning, Nancy’s looking over Mike’s shoulder, and El’s watching him with big brown eyes. He focuses on her and lets his smile grow. “Wanna help me make dinner?”

Her eyes widen a little, but she nods. “What are we making?”

“Probably sandwiches,” he shrugs. “I’m not sure what else I have. Can you find the bread in the pantry? And there’s butter knives in that drawer over there, we’ll need two.” He winks. “One for you, and one for me.”

She does so, and he pulls out the condiments and lunch meats, as well as the jelly. “And the peanut butter, if you can find it,” he calls from where his head’s stuck in the fridge. He looks around for anything else he might need and grabs the pickles before closing the door.

“Y’know the best part about making dinner?” He asks her, impish grin growing on his face. She hums inquisitively. “We get to make ours first and eat while we make the rest.”

She giggles and accepts the high five he holds out.

They get to work assembling sandwiches. She pauses, mayonnaise slathered halfway onto a piece of bread. “Steve?” He hums. “I’m scared.”

He sighs and puts down his knife. “I am too, El. Terrified, if you can believe it. But I have faith in us. I know we can do it.” He wipes his hands off and rounds the counter, taking her hands in his. “You are the strongest person I’ve ever met in my life. Even stronger than Vecna. And this time he won’t know we’re coming. We’ll have the element of surprise on our side, and we will defeat him. We’ll find Will and Barb, and after this we’ll never have to worry about it again.” He strokes a hand over her head and sighs. “There’s something else, too. I know where Papa is.”

She pulls back, eyes wide, posture stiff. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” he soothes. “I’m not going to take you back there. Ever. Okay?”

She nods hesitantly, but allows him to pull her closer again. “I was going to ask if you want us to take care of him,” he murmurs. “Lock him inside and set the building on fire, or something.”

She shakes her head. “He loves me!”

“Oh, El,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same thing of my parents for a long time. No matter how mad they got, how much they yelled, how much they hurt me… they said it, so it must be true, right? They must love me. I must be the problem.” He shakes his head. “That’s not love. You fear him, El, and for good reason. He made you into what you are, but you never asked for this, and it’s okay to be angry about it.” She looks up at him with wide eyes, and he sighs. “I’ll give you some time to think about it,” he murmurs. “If the answer is still no, that’s okay. But if you change your mind, that’s okay, too.”

She nods, steps out of the hug. He lets her go, feeling like he’s almost knocked a vase off a table. His heart’s still thumping oddly, eyes wide, scared to make the wrong move.

But then she looks up at him and offers him a small smile. “Thank you,” she says. “I know the way you treat me is different from how Papa treats me. I do not know yet if they are simply different forms of love or if you are right. I think you are, but…”

“You need to see for yourself,” Steve nods. Moves the metaphorical vase back from the edge of the table. “Let me know if there’s any way I can help prove it.”

“I will,” she says, and picks up her butter knife again, spreading mustard onto a piece of bread. He goes back to his side and smiles at her.

“Steve?” She asks after a second. “When my hair grows back. What does it look like?”

He thinks for a second. “It’s fluffy,” he says. “Very soft and light. Like cotton candy.” He puts his head to one side. “Floofy,” he decides, and grins.

She giggles. “Like you!”

He opens his mouth to tell her no, she’s wrong, except… he can’t. “Yours is even more beautiful,” he tells her. “And kids in school nicknamed me ‘the Hair’. That’s how famous this was.” He tilts his head her direction, and a lock of hair falls in his face. He splutters and shakes his head, grinning when she laughs again.

“I am very glad you came back, Steve,” she says suddenly, seriously, a little at odds with the smile still quirking her lips up.

His heart breaks and mends all in the same second. It feels like absolution. “Me too,” he says, and means it.

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#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual Steddie #slow burn #robin buckley #platonic stobin #eleven #jane hopper #this is just an excuse for me to write #Steve and el as siblings #i love them your honor #Steve and el #starambles

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sheisjoeschateau · 8 months

Text

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

************************************************************************

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

CHAPTER WARNINGS: major character death (?), more plot-driven smut, strong language, anxiety-inducing themes, panic attacks, co-dependency, hot n heavy but low-key emotional s*x. MINORS, DNI. 18+

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

When you do manage to get yourself out of bed and dressed for the day, which consists of an oversized long sleeved shirt that you stole from your uncle (because you liked it) along with some leggings and long white socks, you tell yourself to take a deep breath and accept whatever fate awaits you.

You've made your bed (literally, and figuratively speaking) so now you have to... well, not lie in it...

Anyway.

You walk downstairs to smell Steve at work in the kitchen, cooking up something delicious. Eddie sees you first, on the couch.

He grins and waves. "Mornin’, princess.”

You smile and give him a little wave. "Howdy."

Robin walks in with a first aid kit to give him fresh bandages, visibly sagging with relief when she sees you.

“Oh thank God, you’re up. These kids are already on one...”

You can’t help but snort a laugh at that, taking in her frazzled state, and you ask her what you can do to help but she just says in a desperate voice, “Coffee, please, I love you.” You grin and nod, hearing her and Eddie fussing over his dressing as you make for a hot cup of coffee.

You can hear the kids all around the corner, chirping lively from the kitchen. Even El is in there participating. Hopper’s voice is in the mix somewhere, grunting something about “indoor voices.” Your uncle is arguing over something with Erica, balls deep in a heated debate.

When you round the corner, your eyes first land on Nancy. She’s sitting at the bar with Jonathan. She smiles at you shyly. Jonathan greets you out loud.

“Bauman Squared is up.”

The kids all get in a tizzy of excitement. Erica’s excitement is short-lived, given her intense debate with your uncle. But Dustin is rushing over to you, blabbering about something pertaining to the lifespan of canned goods, and Mike is chiming in from the table saying, “No, Dustin, hold up, okay? So, Bauman, this is actually how it started.”

But your uncle cuts him off, asking them why they call you that when you both share the same last name. Joyce teasingly points out that he’s Murray and you’re Bauman.

Hopper adds to that, “yeah man, get with the program. Your niece is our favorite.” He shoots you a wink, and you give him a finger gun of approval.

Your uncle is rolling his eyes, but shoots you a desperate look — “Coffee. Black. Strong. Gracias.” Erica resumes her debate with him.

You grin as you move to go get your uncle a much needed cup of coffee, finding that Steve has stopped flipping the pancakes to look at you with a soft smile and scooting over a hot mug of coffee to you.

But it’s not for your uncle. It’s for you.

“Two sugar, light cream, right?”

The way that Steve murmurs the question to you makes you weak in the knees. You settle for giving him a tight-lipped grin and nod.

“Yeah, thank you,” you murmur back.

Steve moves to grab another mug, moving to pour another cup of straight black coffee for your uncle. You can’t help but notice the curve of his biceps as he does, secretly admiring his face while the coffee pours from the pot. The way his white t-shirt fits him just right, his gray sweatpants sitting at the jusssst right point of his hips.

You swallow. Fuck.

You get a hold of yourself before he’s handing it over to you. He winks. “It’s strong. I promise.”

You smirk back at him, raising the glass in thanks before walking it over to your uncle.

You don’t notice the way that Steve tries to hide the overwhelming thoughts in his brain, signaling his evolving feelings for you.

And you also don’t notice now Nancy catches it, or how it uncomfortably makes her heart seize...

But you do notice your uncle staring at you with those damn all-knowing-eyes, while Erica incessantly jabbers on about whatever the hell they’re debating. You and Murray exchange the quietest but most intense glares.

And Hopper's got half a donut hanging out of his mouth as he happens to catch the tail end of this. He wants to ask, but decides it’s best to hold off on that.

***

The day goes well. The house is always staying busy, so it keeps you all that way. Hopper is calling for a family meeting in the living room, which gets everyone in a tizzy.

The boys will always, at some point, try to take over. It takes both Joyce and Hopper to set them straight.

Your uncle makes sure to throw in his usual statement: “peanut gallery hours will follow the meeting, thank you.”

This meeting is no exception, and it goes exactly like that.

Will makes great points, as always — and he is allowed to, along with El, given their ties to the supernatural.

Jonathan and Nancy always listen the best. One of them takes notes.

Normally, you sit next to your uncle or Eddie while Steve always takes a seat next to Robin.

But this time, as you sit next to Murray at the end of the couch listening to Hopper try to push through his conference lecture while Dustin interjects like crazy, your heart flutters as Steve moves from the staircase over to sit on the arm of the couch -- next to you.

You sit still, not letting yourself react or look up at him. But you also forget to breathe. Thankfully, he’s too busy telling Dustin to can it so he doesn’t notice.

Robin is slowly shifting back in her seated position in the large loveseat, having been prepared to make room for Steve. She’s too grateful to have it to herself to feel suspicious yet.

Eddie, however, clocks it. What “it” is, necessarily? He doesn’t know. Like honestly, he’s not even in the ballpark. But still, he notices so yay gold star.

Nancy does know what “it” is, though, when she catches it. Or at least she has an inkling. She’s not the note taker today, so she’s able to catch it. She wonders to herself if maybe she is just overthinking it, given her conflicted feelings for Steve while still with Jonathan.

Steve is actively participating in the conversation with the adults, and you chime in as well. Once you’ve gotten a grip on yourself.

Something is being said about needing to go on a supply run, but also how they need to get over to the main field and see what is happening at the lab — which is now squared off with all electric fencing. The kids are LOUD, demanding it be them. Hopper shuts that down real fast.

“So help me Goddddd, listentome.” — Hopper

“Kids, shh, calm down…” — Joyce

“FETUSES, SILENCIO.” — Murray

The kids relent with rolled eyes and groans of displeasure. Hopper rubs his temples, resetting. Then speaking —

“I will be assigning roles. You will hear them, and you will accept them. Deal?”

Everyone nods, agreeing. Even the kids. Great, you think, so they’ve learned to know better than push their luck that far…

Hopper is assigning 4 separate groups to 4 separate tasks.

In one group: Robin, Nancy, Will and Joyce. They will be making the supply run.

In the 2nd group: Dustin, Erica and Murray will be staying here to run the command center. Murray’s the boss. He grins, but also wants to jump off a cliff for the fact he has been assigned the responsibility of managing the two loudest kids in the group. Lucas will also stay with Max, while on lookout at base.

In the 3rd group: Hopper, El, Mike and Argyle as the driver. They’ll be assessing the damage done, pertaining to the gate re-opening. They’re on Vecna patrol.

In the 4th group: Jonathan, Steve, you and Eddie. You’ll all be venturing over the fence to spy on the lab and get a look at what is happening over there, while reporting back to Group 2.

This sends Dustin to a fit of determination, as he insists that he joins your group so that he can help with the walkie-talkie communication since Lucas and Erica can man the fort. (Murray definitely takes offense to that.)

Hopper huffs but doesn’t disagree with the suggestion. “Don’t let this give you any sort of false pretenses, kid. This is the one suggestion you’ve made that is sensible.”

Dustin just grins like a dopey idiot. Then he looks at Steve. “Yay!”

Steve rolls his eyes but honestly, he’s cool with having his buddy.

The plan is to go into effect early tomorrow morning. Meaning, everyone needs to get some good ass sleep and tuck in early.

You’re in your room now, having just showered and put on your pajamas with freshly brushed teeth. You’re putting together your combat outfit for tomorrow when there’s a knock at your door.

You expect it to be your uncle, since earlier he was going over strategies with you for an obscenely long time — which is his very awkward way of indirectly saying, “hey, you’re my niece and I love you and I’m worried about you because that’s what family does.” So you figure he’s drawn up another 10 plans to run by you, and you're happy to humor him on them.

But it’s Steve on the other side, looking shy and like he might’ve had to talk himself into doing this in fear of how you might react.

You give him a surprised but pleasant smile. He stands there, returning it timidly. There is a silence that falls over both of you. Then finally —

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

You have to literally restrain yourself from jumping at that question with a way-too-eager oh thank god, yes. Instead, you just give him a polite grin.

“Yeah, of course,” you say.

Steve lets himself in, and he looks over to see your outfit set aside for tomorrow. He nods at it as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Tryna look badass?”

You smirk. “I am a badass. I’m a Bauman.”

You expect Steve to scoff. To roll his eyes. Make some snide remark. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you, with that same look on his face that he had this morning while you two laid in bed together. You can’t break away your gaze for a moment, almost hypnotized.

God, he is so beautiful. Why the fuck is he so beautiful?

Finally, you break the stare down by moving to get your combat boots out from the closet and place them beside the clothes.

And that’s when you feel it. His fingers brushing the edge of your t-shirt, hooking onto it so that you turn around. You do, letting him turn you to face him. He’s looking at you intently, and slowly he pulls you towards him to cage you between his spread legs as he sits on the edge of the bed. It’s half shy, half confident. Gentle but assertive. You stare down into his doe eyes, and you hold your breath when his fingers splay across your hips as they grip onto you. You’re so close to him now, too close yet somehow not close enough. You can’t breathe.

After soaking you in, Steve reaches one arm up to pull your neck down to his face so that he can brush the tip of his nose against yours, just like you did last night. Ever so slowly, be nuzzles. Eskimo kiss.

And then his lips are finding their way to be against yours.

Steve kisses you softly, taking his time and just breathing you in. Then he sighs into your mouth as he stands so that he can lift you up, making you swing your legs to wrap around his waist and hold yourself to him there. He turns you both around, effortlessly walking you over to sit on top of the chest of drawers. Damn, he's strong. Steve places you there, lips still on yours, before he finally pulls back. His hands glide down to the bottom of your shirt. Please, his eyes ask. But this time, he wrenches your shirt off of you with more vigor than last night. It’s urgent, and it’s still urgent when his lips crash back into yours before wrenching himself back again so that you can tug his shirt over his own head. He grunts impatiently, wanting to not be apart from you yet needing to be skin to skin. He paws and grabs at you, needy and greedy, but something about it feels a whole lot more like love than lust.

Steve tastes like summer. Sunscreen, popsicles and June. He smells like pool water and boyfriend. And he looks like a dream.

You wonder how in the world he would have felt if he’d been told during his King Steve era that one day, he’d be having sex with that one student who graduated a year early and didn’t belong to any niche crowd or group or clique. You wonder if he would scoff at that, wave it off. Say, nah, that girl? Never.

But the way that Steve keens into your neck right now, murmuring sinful names for you like angel and baby, makes you wonder if King Steve wouldn’t be able to understand that the new and improved Steve Harrington might just happen to be into things he never was into before. Maybe he’d gotten close with Nancy. Maybe you were a rebound. But he didn’t kiss you like that. Or treat you like that after your first time, for that matter...

And the second time was just as euphoric as the first time, just different. Steve was more in control, clinging to you and unafraid to go for it.

Before you know it, you’re up against the wall with your bare chest against it and your legs spread widely and his mouth on your ear. Tugging at your earlobe with his teeth and his shaky breathing, infused with his pleasured grunting humming inside of your eardrums. You pant and bite back the screams that you so fucking badly want to release. but you don't, not wanting to wake the entire household or get the attention anyone awake. However, you made sure that he knew you were in pure fucking bliss with the way you arched your back into him and dripped all over his girth.

“Been wanting to be here inside you all day,” he rasped, thrusting against you. “Didn’t wanna leave this room.” His words break up as he pounds himself deeper into your guts. “Needed to — to — n-n-need you —”

You throw your head back against him, climaxing at his words for the second time in a row tonight. His arm linked around your waist tightens, gripping you like a lifeline, and he chokes into your ears — which only sends you into an orgasm unlike anything you’ve ever felt in your life. And Steve shares the exact same experience as you do when he ejaculates inside of you.

You both pant and gasp for air, your heart rates racing at lightning speed and trying to level out. You’re both slick with sweat and sex, and as Steve rests his head against your shoulder it sends chills up your arms when his hair flops and tickles your bare skin.

Steve pulls out of you, and you shiver as you feel him leave your body, inch by inch. The loss of him is overwhelming, and your legs shake. But before you can even move to catch yourself, Steve is already turning you to him with a steady grasp on you.

The way that Steve strokes your hair, moving it out of your face as he stares into your eyes again, is priceless. You can’t help it…

“You’re beautiful, Steve Harrington.” You breathe it against his face, still catching your breath. The corners of your lips twitch, almost like you want to laugh or smile. “I can’t stand you.”

Steve looks at you like you’re all that matters in this world. The pads of his thumbs stroke the skin under your eyes, softly, gingerly. He moves to press his lips to the corner of your mouth, breathing against it, “I can’t stand you either.”

Feather-like kisses are pressed to the corner of your mouth and cheek, and you revel in the glory of it, pressing your skull into the wall with your eyes fluttering shut.

Steve falls asleep first that night, with you tucked underneath his chin and with his arms holding you protectively. You let the sound of his steady breathing lull you to sleep.

***

The next morning comes sooner than you’d like.

You feel someone squeeze you tightly to them, pressing their lips to the crown of your hair before they roll out of bed. You watch as Steve’s back muscles flex while he tugs his sweatpants back over his boxers, then throws his shirt back on and heads to your little en-suite bathroom for a few minutes. You force yourself to sit up, knowing that it’s time and you’ll need to get ready.

Hopper would be so mad if he knew about the 5 hours of sleep you got, versus the 8.

You’re pulling out a pair of socks to go with your boots when Steve emerges from the bathroom, and before you can stand up and move to switch places — he’s cupping your cheeks to kiss your forehead in two lingering pecks. You smile under his touch.

You give him the shyest of looks before going to brush your teeth, re-shower and get changed.

Steve quietly murmurs to you the promise of coffee as he leaves. And he is all you think about in the shower.

You get changed into your army pants, combat boots, and fitted t-shirt. You grab yourself a windbreaker and throw your go-bag over your shoulder, ready to face the day.

Dustin is securing the command center with Murray and Erica, while Mike comes over to you carrying snacks.

“Here, I set extra aside so that you have plenty.” Mike always treated you more like a sister than Nancy, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her. You ruffle his hair and give him a quick squeeze, grateful.

Lucas and Will are asking you questions about the trip, along with Mike, and you assure your kiddos that you’ll all be fine.

Hopper comes over to you with Murray, entrusting you with one of their guns. “You’re the group's team lead today, along with Steve.”

Steve’s got his nail bat, along with a pistol.

Murray is going over the inner workings of the lab’s field layout with you and your group.

“The break switch is in this building,' he's saying. "But thanks to Erica and Dustin, we’ve got a way of hacking into it at exactly this time. You’ll have this much time to mount the electric fence and get to the other side. Seize. Those. Minutes. Haul ass. Get to the other side. No asking why the chicken crossed the road. Capiché?”

The way that Jonathan, Eddie and Steve repeat the word back to him makes you visibly bite back a laugh.

Joyce is giving everyone the nurturing mama bear talk, hugging everyone too many times — especially Jonathan. She has Will in her group, so she’ll be a little more sane in the head thankfully.

Nancy and Jonathan are giving each other an affectionate goodbye that Steve doesn’t even notice. Nancy wonders if he does. Silently, and selfishly, she hopes he does. But he doesn’t.

Robin is rambling about something having to do with a jump-ship plan in case the jump-ship plan doesn’t work, and if they need to establish not only a 2nd abort —

“— but maybe even a 3rd abort? and wait is there really enough backpacks that they’re taking to fit all the supplies and can goods that they — ”

“Oh my god, Robin, please breathe,” Steve cuts her off.

“Wait, what’s the jump ship plan?” Argyle’s question makes everyone whip their head in his direction with incredulous looks on their faces.

Hopper looks ready to slug someone but also like a nervous dad. After he goes back over the plan for everyone, giving the bullet points, he tells you all to eat your breakfasts and be by the front door within 30 minutes or else.

Lucas takes his plate up to sit with Max. El comes over to talk with you about the day, saying that she’ll send a signal if she sees anything dangerous headed your way at the lab. She gives you a tight hug, which tugs at Hopper’s heart. He and Murray share a very rare, quiet moment with an exchange in their eyes. Our girls.

Steve is telling the boys and Erica to follow him upstairs to Max’s room to join Lucas for a motherly pep talk, and they all follow him like chicks following a mother hen.

Eddie is being given strict instructions by Robin to follow orders and not rip his stitches that she’s worked hard at keeping in tact by mounting the wall --

...“and be on the damn lookout only so help me god or else I’ll rip them back open myself,” she threatens him.

Eddie visibly swallows and nods at that, believing her.

Suddenly Nancy is walking up to you, as you stand there still hugging El while looking over Murray’s shoulder at his computer system setup. She looks nervous as you turn to her.

“Hey, umm, keep an eye on them, will you?” she asks shyly, sheepishly. “I worry about them. Especially Dustin.”

You know she meant Steve. “Yeah. Of course.”

Nancy nods awkwardly, grateful you didn’t correct her and a little embarrassed. She points to the gun on your back, giving you a tight-lipped grin. “Glad it’s you handling that bad boy.”

She flashes the same one across her back. You chuckle lightly, agreeing with her. “Yeah, the last thing we need is for Eddie to get his hands on this or else he’ll murder the whole town.”

Nancy giggles.

Eddie snickers at the joke, appreciating your dark humor. He gives you a wry smile. “Thanks princess, but I only prefer bone crushing, eye sucking curses.”

You all eat some whole wheat eggos (even El) and some scrambled eggs. Plenty of water, plus some coffee.

Steve walks in to scoop up his plate during the last 10 minutes, and Hopper takes pity on him — given that he’s been with the kids.

“You get an extra 5,” Hopper tells him.

“Appreciate it, Hop.”

Steve carries his plate over to the table, moving to sit by you and Murray — who does his best to just stare down at his coffee and ignore catching this in his peripheral vision. Sip, slurp.

It’s a quiet breakfast. Tense. Stiff. Everyone is nervous. This stuff never does get easier…

***

The kids all boom back down the stairs, loud as ever.

And everyone is out the door on time, minus the extra 5 minutes that Hopper secretly gave for Steve’s benefit. Thankfully, it goes unremarked but the kids.

You all put their hands in a circle because Dustin insisted a while back that you cannot all part ways without a group huddle. So it’s now become tradition. Everyone fist bumps in unison, and the four groups embark on their separate journeys.

Group 1 does well, making it into town. They have the bottom tier level of risk, which Hopper did intentionally for Joyce and Will's sakes because those are his hearts. He also adores the two girls, Nancy and Robin, of course. They carefully fill up Joyce’s car in doses, trying not to attract attention as everyone has a strict evacuation mandate that goes into place next week along with a food supply limit. They’re ahead of the game, doing everything not to give away what Dr. Owens warned them about.

Group 2 is in full swing, back at Casa Harrington. Erica and Murray bicker like a married couple, but they also high five. Lucas makes sure that Max is safely tucked in, giving her a kiss on the forehead and a promise to be back upstairs in a few hours.

Group 3 is cautious. They have to calculate every single move, given the risks. El uses her senses to tap in, blindfold on and static on the van's radio ringing throughout the car. Mike keeps watch, along with Argyle at the wheel — and Hopper navigates.

Group 4, your group, is en route. You have the longest journey to make on foot, making sure to keep their strength. Jonathan keeps watch of time, and Dustin hangs into the walkie-talkie to keep contact. You scan the area, and so does Steve, as you all walk. Eddie sings to himself to keep from wigging out, and it’s definitely giving mumbled panic.

You are telling everyone the ETA, using the compass. Steve tells the gang to keep the same pace so that they make sure they aren’t there too soon or too late, wanting to time it right with Group 2’s orders.

At some point, you gesture for everyone to pivot directions, and when Steve steps in your direction — he instinctively reaches out to brush the small of your back. It’s so subtle… yet so telling.

Eddie cocks an eyebrow mid-song, ceasing the mumbling altogether for about 2 solid seconds, before resuming as he walks. Even Jonathan raises an eyebrow, silently smirking.

Dustin misses it entirely.

Then Dustin starts communicating back and forth on the walkie-talkie with Erica, and as they start to bicker Steve interjects.

“Hey, dingus, cool it and listen to what she’s saying, please.”

Dustin huffs, whining, “but she’s wronnnng...”

You squint in the sunlight as you look back at him, saying simply, “Listen to your mother.”

Steve doesn’t even flinch. You both just look back at your son expectantly. Dustin sighs but obeys.

Oh that definitely makes Eddie and Jonathan share a look.

Back at base, Murray is struggling to access the switch for the electric fence closest to where Group 4 (you guys) is approaching. He and Erica work hard at it, and Lucas helps as he keeps open the line of communication with Dustin via the walkie-talkie.

“This east side gate is a bitch,” Murray is griping over the channel. “Hang tight, just pause when you guys make it there.”

Dustin and Lucas are going back and forth, while Jonathan tries to keep up with what they are all saying.

You can see the fence up ahead, and so does Steve.

Eddie’s singing gets louder.

Nancy speaks over the walkie-talkie channel: “Group 1, reporting. Over.”

Dustin speaks. “Group 4, tuned in. Over.”

The other groups tune in, too. Nancy continues in a hushed voice. “Food supply is running low so we’re going to double up. The mandate will be really strict. Can’t take chances. Over.”

Jonathan tells her to keep them posted with the ETA.

El comes onto the walkie-talkie, asking for you.

You take it, speaking: “Bauman squared, I copy. Over.”

Eleven tells you that she can see you all headed there to the lab, and that no one is nearby. You’re safe.

Hopper adds: “But Eddie, make sure that you stay tuned into this channel and relay it to Dustin just in case. Over.”

Eddie’s song of woe dies on his lips with an anxious exhale. “Roger that, over.”

Steve speaks up, “Alright guys, we’re here.”

Dustin signals Murray, right on cue. You all stare up at the looming electric fence in front of you. It’s tall. At least 30 feet up. You gulp. So does Jonathan. For Steve, it’s easy. For Dustin, well, it’s exciting.

Jonathan adds to the relayed info, addressing Murray, saying, “Yeah, uhhh, it’s pretty high up man?”

Murray’s tone comes through, crisp. “How high is high?”

Jonathan visibly shrinks back as he squints in the sunlight. “Like...25-30 feet?”

Murray curses on the other side, frustrated. “Alright, hold please.”

Steve turns over to face you all, starting with you. “It’s gonna be a helluva climb.”

You nod. “We’ll have to double up the speed, guys. But for safety, let’s just do two at a time.”

Jonathan’s brow furrows. “Why?”

You tell them it’s safest this way. This way, two people can gauge the timing of it just in case. Dustin immediately demands to go in the first group, which Steve shuts down promptly — like all good mothers would with their favorite child. He starts to onboard Jonathan, but you’re already saying you’ll go as you tighten up your bag. Steve looks at you, hesitant.

You look back at him, giving him a nod. “No arguments.”

Steve sighs through his nose. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

He’s so sexy when he isn't actually hating you, and instead just consistently miffed with you…

“Group 4, listen up,” Murray’s voice comes over the walkie-talkie. “I’m signaling the switch now. On my mark, it will take exactly 3 minutes for it to activate. You’ll have 60 seconds to climb it. Up and down. That’s it. Remember what I said: haul ass.”

Dustin responded back with a sigh, “Steve and Bauman Squared insist on going two at a time so…” He dreads the next question, cringing before asking. “Any chance you guys can…do it…twice?”

You turn around, waiting to hear your uncle’s reply and wondering if you’ll need to step in. His befuddled response confirms, yes you will, and you walk over to take the walkie.

“Uncle Murray, it’s not very sturdy. It’s too big a risk, four at a time. If you can’t do it, then just me and Steve will go. What can we do? Over.”

You speak matter-of-factly, which Steve appreciates. He stands with his hands on his hips and tongue between his teeth, all hot and mom-like. Even though for you...he’s giving daddy.

Eddie has been pacing a trough into the grass. Please let me have company, he thinks.

Jonathan’s just quiet, wondering if now is a good time to tell everyone that he’s actually afraid of heights.

Dustin just wants to fucking climb already.

“Workin’ on it. Standby.” Your uncle’s monotone voice makes you all wait.

You stare up at the fence while you do. Then, turning your face over in Steve’s direction, you find that he’s already gazing over at you. That fondness in his eyes is back, and you feel your cheeks flush under the sun. But it’s not the sun making you blush. Steve's hands are still on his tips, and he gives you a tiny wink before turning to look back at Dustin with the walkie-talkie. He tells his kid not to stress about it if they can’t come, which only starts a back-and-forth argument between mother and son. But Erica’s voice cuts through it over the walkie.

“Group 4 nerds, listen up. We found a way to do it. Over.”

Dustin pumps his fist in glee. Jonathan doesn’t. Eddie realizes he’s doomed, back to being there all alone.

Steve takes the walkie, asking, “Same timeframes, Murray? Over?”

Your uncle confirms it, but then Lucas is in the background saying, “Wait, are you sure this will give them 60 seconds?”

Steve raises an eyebrow at that. But you’re looking at the top of the fence. The end of the other side of the line is quiet for a hot minute. No doubt, Murray and the kids are beefing. Re-calculating. Beefing some more. Getting attitudes. Then finally —

“Erica to group 4, confirming. Timeframes are exact. Wait for us to signal the 2nd climb. Standby and brace for 1st climb. Over.”

You and Steve look at each other. Here we go. He fastens his backpack, reaching out a hand to you and telling you to hand over yours. You go to protest, but he’s just insisting without budging and reaching anyway. It isn’t until his hand starts to slide the strap down your shoulder that you huff and relent.

“30 seconds to climb.”

“There’s a ledge up there, wide enough to stand on.” You nod up at it as you tell Steve. “If we run low on time, we hang there until the 2nd climb.”

Steve nods at you, agreeing. He turns and relays that to a very anxious Jonathan and a very antsy Dustin. You gesture over to Dustin, telling him to toss you his backpack. Steve goes to argue but you hold up a hand.

“Better me than him," you say quickly. It’s a parental thing that he would insist on too, so he lets you win that one.

Dustin obeys after seeing mom agree with…um…dad? Are you dad?

“10 seconds to climb.”

Steve talks fast, in position to pounce. “Eddie, on go, toss that branch to hit the fence. Double check for sparks.” Eddie nods, picking up the large branch nearby. You get in position with Steve.

“5…4…3…2…1…climb!”

Eddie tosses the branch. No electric shock. All systems go.

You and Steve hop as high as you can, climbing up like champs. You both hustle, swiftly making the climb like pro climbers. Steve is faster, planning to reach down and lift you the rest of the way if he gets to the top first. But you’re almost right at the same level with him, almost at the top.

…until your bag catches.

The strap of Dustin’s bag pulls you back down. Air catches in your throat, no scream escaping your mouth as it swings you around, unhooks and makes you fall back some feet. But you latch back onto the wall, back down to midway. Fuck.

Dustin gasps, Jonathan shouts your name. Eddie starts his shit-shit-shit chant.

You look down, realizing that it’s way too far of a drop to just fall back down and start over. You are literally back to the mid-way point.

You make up your mind within a few seconds: keep going.

Steve is hoisting himself up onto the thick ledge as this is happening, and when he turns to see you lower his heart stops.

“Bauman, what happened??"

But you keep climbing, shouting, “Steve, just keep going.”

But Steve is not having that. He’ll fucking wait. Hell, he’ll wait for Dustin too. He’s staying put. He shakes his head, clapping his hands and reaching for you even though you still have another fourth of the wall to mount before you reach him.

“30 more seconds.” Oh thank God, that’s plenty.

”You got this, Bauman, c’mon...” Steve’s ready to hold you again. Anxious. So fucking anxious.

Dustin is cheering too, along with Eddie and Jonathan. You’re fine. Almost there.

You look at Steve at the top, leaning over the side looking down at you. You can see the anxious anticipation in his brown eyed gaze.

“20 more seconds. Group 2, don’t forget to wait for our signal.”

But right as Murray stops talking — the wall buzzes.

Everything happens in slow motion. One second feels like a whole minute for all 5 of you in your group. Your ears perk up at the sound. That wasn’t an insect. That’s mechanic. That’s —

“Was that —” Eddie barely started to ask the question you were all wondering.

“Fuck, Bauman — !!! ” Jonathan’s voice is panicked with realization.

Steve’s brow furrowed, alarm and horror sweeping across his entire face.

You feel a scorch so hot, fire itself couldn’t have burned as badly as the electric shock that shot through your entire body did.

In that single second, you felt your brain short circuit.

You felt your hands get shoved away from the wall, throwing you off with blinding force.

You felt your throat snap, and you felt your heart rumble inside of your chest...

And then you felt it stop.

*****************************

:( im sorry, Steve.

author notes: I am sure that the fence thing might be weird and not accurate, but it helped my vision for how this chapter goes down. so I hope you all will be kind and not find it too "unrealistic." had to watch some stuff like the OG Jurassic Park, and get ideas for it.

tag list: @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @xprloki @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #dustin henderson #stranger things fanfiction #murray bauman #enemies to lovers

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sailing-through-hawkins · 1 year

Text

✧ dedicated to that one anon that made me feel so happy about the siren kas au again!! also thank you mea for beta-reading this for me you are a lifesaver!! going to tag @xenon-demon and @chaoticlovingdreamer because i know you both were interested in this idea hope it's cool to tag you!! ✧

The first time it happens, it's not a big deal.

They were on their way to start a supply run, some small groceries, snacks and sweets, to try and keep the mood up.

He had already done his rounds, checked in on El (still exhausted) and Dustin (still sleeping with his head on his mom's lap; she's still wiping her tears away when Steve sees her) and the Byers (still huddled together, warm, loving). He felt a twinge in his chest at the absence of Lucas and Erica but he knows they're with their parents because they did a check-in literally ten minutes ago. They're safe.

Steve knows they're safe. He just wishes they felt safe.

A whole month of fear and caution but this time, instead of a couple of kids sharing glances across town, nodding and walking on, it's everyone in Hawkins, gawking up at the dark clouds without any idea of what's been happening under their noses for years.

He wishes they never had to find out.

"Hey," Robin says, grasping his hand as she steps out onto the doorstep next to him. "We got this, right?"

"Yeah," Steve grips her hand back, stroking his thumb over the ink doodles across her knuckles. Sometimes he thinks the only reason they'll make it is that he's got her by his side. "We got this."

She smiles a thin, watery smile, lifts up her mask and makes her way to the car. He inhales, covers his nose with the black bandana Dustin gave him and follows behind her, gripping at the cold, empty space in his palm.

The forest was always one of the worst parts of living in this house, but the darkness has turned it ashy and cold, like something out of a zombie movie. He wonders, as he stares through the trees, if Barb got to see the forest before she was pulled through.

That's when he hears the music.

An echo of a guitar strumming. It's faint, the sound warbling as the guitar gets tuned and re-tuned every few strums.

It's so quiet, he thinks, so why does it sound so close?

"Steve?" Robin calls out, her eyes as wide and beautiful and terrified as ever under her goggles. She stands next to his car, one hand tapping the hood nervously. "You ready?"

Steve blinks and shakes his head, the echo of the guitar fading away as he twirls his keys around his finger. "Ready."

Probably just someone playing around on the radio or something, he reasons as he starts the engine.

No big deal.

Two days later and everyone is in the living room.

Everyone meaning literally everyone, even fucking Mrs Wheeler, all to discuss shelter for the families who lost their houses in the earthquake.

Steve's house is already full of most of the Party (Dustin insisted they use the name for the entire Upside-Down-Expert-Team), otherwise he'd offer it as a place for people to stay in until they can get something more permanent.

That's all this place is good for anyways. Just a rest stop.

"I appreciate that, Mom." Nancy taps her finger on the dining table, eyes squinting and lips squeezed into a very fake smile. Steve winces and starts to make his way to the sun room, gripping the blankets in his arms tightly as she continues. "But some of these people need -"

It's pretty easy to tune the discussion out, focusing on laying out the blankets and making as much of the space as comfortable as possible. The big windows let so much sunlight in, it's perfect for anyone who wants to soak up in the warmth. The only problem is the view.

He pointedly doesn't look at the pool, hands on his hips as he surveys the room, and that's when he starts to hear the guitar again. The strumming starts up quietly and washes over him, re-tuning itself every time he starts to rearrange the blankets again. A few minutes of tuning and it starts to play a song this time.

Steve tilts his head, staring out at the pool. Someone must have switched on the lights when it started getting dark.

When did it get so dark? He should go back and check on everyone, make sure they're comfortable. Is there enough space? Maybe he should redo the blankets?

The song soaks the back of his neck.

The blankets are perfect. He and Robin just can share.

It's so familiar, he thinks, as the water ripples with the wind. Something he's heard, but not listened to.

There shouldn't be any water in the pool. Why is there -

The song is slow, coiling behind his ear and gently drifting down his shoulders, making him shiver. He thinks he should know the music, humming along to it as the guitar starts to get louder. It feels nice, a comforting chill down his back that eases the tension of his wounds.

His wounds. Robin. Robin, his bat bites still hurt, why does it hurt so much, what's -

Oh, he thinks as the music plays even louder in his ear, in his mind, that's not the radio.

"Steve!"

Robin is crying, hands crushing his jaw, her face blocking the view of the empty pool. The music is gone.

"Steve, please!"

"Rob?" he croaks, swallowing the dryness of his tongue. His head feels flooded with a fuzziness, blood rushing through his veins like it was moving too slowly before. He blinks when he realizes they're outside now, standing between the pool and the house. It's still daylight. "What -?"

She pulls him into a hug, and he struggles, but manages to wrap his own arms around her, if kinda slowly. "You just - you weren't saying anything and started walking to the pool and I couldn't stop you -"

"Steve," Nancy says somewhere to his left. He barely manages to lift his head to look at her, blue eyes sharp and a Walkman held tightly in her hand. "What did you see?"

The fuzziness is fading away but his brain is still moving through a fog to connect words together. "I heard music."

Robin's face is in front of his again, eyes wide and beautiful and terrified. Oh, Robbie. "Vecna uses music now?"

"Not Vecna." Steve wrinkles his nose. "It...wasn't Vecna."

"How do you know that?" Nancy squints at him and he rests his forehead against Robin's, his bones melting into stone, too heavy to hold up. He hears the creak of the Walkman, Nancy gripping it tighter. "Steve, how do you know it's not Vecna?"

"Music w's nice." His eyes are closing. "Felt nice."

After that, the plan was never leave Steve alone.

It made bathroom breaks awkward but Argyle was so chill about it that Steve didn't even mind after the first two trips.

El couldn't find anything Upside-Downy on him, and there was the entire town with Upside-Downy shit happening everywhere, so there wasn't really much more to the plan than him having a bodyguard.

They made a chart for their shifts. God, he loves these shitheads.

"Here, man," Argyle says quietly, handing over three slices of pizza with a wink. Steve thanks him with a real, if exhausted, smile. Sleep hasn't been easy for the past week. "Fresh outta the oven."

"You're a godsend, dude," Steve groans, blowing air on the pizza slice. Mike grumbles under his breath about "hair-bias", whatever the fuck that means. Erica just rolls her eyes and shoves at his head.

The Sinclairs are visiting today, the parents persuaded by Lucas and Erica's whining (and a little bit of Steve's charm) so they can spend more time at "home base" with the others.

They're sat in the living room, eating lunch as rays of sunlight shine on the food like some kind of holy blessing, with the rest of the Party.

The rest of the survivors would be more accurate.

He tries not thinking about it, tries to appreciate the warm cheese and loud laughter. There's too much to not think about. How Max isn't here, how she deserves more, how he wants to see her okay and alive and happy.

Eddie isn't here either, and he doesn't think about how much he deserved better too.

"Steve thought it was cool! Right, Steve?"

He wishes Eddie could have made it, that Dustin didn't have to lose him like that.

Hell, they could have been friends. Maybe buried the hatchet so they could make fun of Dustin together, catch each other's eye whenever the tone makes an appearance and just laugh whenever he wasn't looking.

"I said, right, Steve?"

Maybe they could have hung out. Steve would come over to his trailer - or maybe Eddie would come over for a swim - and he'd make fun of Eddie's taste in bands - or maybe he'd listen to him play his guitar, never looking away from those ringed fingers as they created wonderful, wonderful music.

"Dude?"

Oh shit, the music is back. That's probably not good, is it?

But it's so sweet. So calming and cool, like a balm against his torn skin, washing over the dark feelings that built up in his ribcage.

"Steve!"

The song ripples through his veins and he sighs at the feeling. The pool doesn't have water anymore, he thinks. He emptied it so long ago. The music is sad, and his heart clenches at the sound.

The lake has water, he thinks. And the song turns light, sweet, calling him, curling around him, pulling him towards -

"Sorry about this, dude."

"Fuck!" Steve gasps when he hits the ground, groaning as his back ache returns at full force. "What the fuck, man?"

To his credit, Argyle looks genuinely sorry and helps him back onto his feet, holding Steve up with a tight arm around his waist and a tighter grip on his wrist. His shoulder aches at being thrown over Argyle's neck but walking is a lot easier when someone else is carrying half the weight.

He feels so heavy now.

"What - happened?" Steve croaks as they hobble back to the house. When did he leave it?

"You just got up and you weren't -" Dustin swallows, his voice croaky like he'd been yelling. "It's like you weren't even there."

"God, you can't keep doing this, Steve," Robin smacks his shoulder with a tight smile, tears still unshed in her eyes. His chest aches at them. "How many times are you gonna walk out on me?"

"Sorry Robbie," he says and accepts her very tight ow, ow, ow hug with a sad laugh. "I don't know what's going on."

"Was it the music again?" Will asks quietly.

Steve looks at him, leaning his head against Robin's. When did he get so tall? When did they all grow up already? "Yeah," Steve replies, just as quiet. He swallows when Robin lets out a sob into his shoulder. "It was the same song."

By the time his brain is fully functional ("Debatable," Mike sneers, crying out when El smacks him up the head), everyone's already discussing the new plan.

"We'll need to make notes, figure out the pattern, see if there're any triggers for Steve." Nancy said and he tries not to let it get to him, the fact that he needs babysitting now, that he can't do anything without being watched. "If the music makes people feel...good, it could still be a whole new tactic. Maybe Vecna wants our guard down, maybe he's countering our favourite songs, maybe it's a distraction. We have to be ready."

Steve still wants to grumble that it could never be Vecna, that's insulting, but he's too tired to argue about anything anymore.

They've even rearranged who sleeps where so that the Sinclairs can sleep over. They take one of the guest rooms while Mrs Henderson and Dustin join Steve in his own room. He almost loses his mind cackling when the both of them eye his wallpaper with the same mix of disgust and fascination. When Mrs Henderson sees the curtains, she almost gags and it's the loudest he's laughed in a long time.

"You're gonna be okay," Dustin tells him right before they fall asleep. Steve looks up at him from the floor where he lays, couch pillows doing more for his back than training against monsters ever did. "You'll be fine."

"'Course I will, dude," Steve smiles at him as Mrs Henderson leaves the room to talk to Hopper one last time. Tews is curled up on the bed, purrs loud, almost melodic, and lulling Steve's thoughts into a calm. "If the giant flesh monster couldn't get us, no way some wrinkly old naked guy will."

Dustin laughs outrageously at that and Steve wants to coo, wants to cry, wants to grip Dustin tightly in his arms and hide him away from the world, hide them all away in this empty house and make it full, make it safe for them, for Max, for Robin.

He doesn't.

He eventually falls asleep to the sound of Dustin muttering under his breath. And when Steve sleeps, he dreams.

It's so cold around him, so dark and empty. The sky thunders red and the cries of so many monsters echo around him. But there, through the cold and the shadows and the monsters, there's the song, calling to him.

I'm here, he thinks as he trudges his way through the inky mass of thick liquid, not water, not blood, but enough of both to make his steps heavy. I'm coming.

The song curls up on his skin, on his bat bites, soft and sweet and cold, like that time Robin spilled ice cream all over the -

"Steve!"

Robin. Where's - where's Robin?

Shh, it's okay. She's fine. Everyone's fine. Keep going.

Oh, he thinks. Of course. Everyone's okay, he knows they are, right?

Steve pauses his next step.

Right?

The song is even lonelier now and he shakes off the questions clouding his mind. It croons to him, so happy as he makes it through the ink to the shore. It sounds so sweet, that's it, keep going, come on.

He's crawling at this point, body heavy with the weight, until the song lifts him up onto his knees and he looks up to see -

"Snap out of it!"

Steve gasps at the sting on his cheek, blinking when light hits his eyes fiercely, shapes and sounds moving around him from a distance. There's a buzzing coiling behind his ears.

"Steve?"

Dustin's terrified face finally comes into focus behind his mother, who is standing right in front of Steve with her arm stretched across the space between them. Steve blinks, "Hold on, did you just slap me?"

"I'm so sorry, Steve," Mrs Henderson says and just like Argyle, she seems to really mean it. Does she? Her outstretched hand rests on his forehead as the other grips his upper arm. His back aches. His torso burns. Where did the song go? "We were so scared, you weren't saying anything -"

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Would never, of course not, just needed to keep going.

They both deny it vehemently. "Of course not! You were just - staring. Out the window. At -"

"At the pool," Steve hisses, biting his lip.

"Yeah," Dustin breathes out, his eyes watering as he reaches out to grab Steve's wrist. "But you're - you're back now. We just - just need to slap you out of it. What's another concussion, right?"

Steve laughs because Dustin's voice is so choked up that if he doesn't laugh, he'll cry. He ruffles the curls of his hair with a smile. A sinking feeling claws at him from the inside of his stomach. Can't he listen to the song one more time?

"Steve?"

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm -" Steve swallows as the blood in his veins prickles. Won't you hear me one more time? "I - I don't want to listen. I won't."

"Can you still hear it?!"

Please? It would make us so happy, Steve.

"I - no, no, I -"

"Steve?! Guys! Code red, code red, please!"

Please, Steve. Please?

"Okay," he says, eyes drooping as the melody curls up around his waist, brushing against the inside of his skin, pooling around his chest, thrumming in time with his heart beat. It feels so sweet, so good, thank you, come here, come here. "Okay."

"El, do something, please!"

The song turns harsh, gnawing on his bones, piercing through his skull, pushing him to the ground as someone is interrupting, no interruptions, leave us alone, alone, alone. The pain builds up crawling and clawing up to his chest to his shoulders to his head, his head, it hurts, it hurts so much, please stop, just stop. "Fuck, fuck -"

"Steve?" Dustin whimpers and he aches, he aches, he aches.

He screams.

When he wakes up, it's to dawn creeping through the windows and rope around his body.

Red sunlight, just like in Mike's Superman comic books, covered by dark clouds.

A red sun to the blue moon. Right side up to the upside down. You to me.

"Whe -" Steve croaks, his eyes creaking open. Fuck, they're so crusty, that's gross. "Where?"

"Steve!"

Robin's face in front of his, beautiful and terrified. He squints up at her, glancing over to find Dustin and Lucas staring at him with wide eyes, Hopper behind them. They watch him and they nod. Others are coming in, Mrs Byers and Jonathan and Nancy -

Steve hisses as something claws through him for the fourth time that night, pain, pain, go away, go away -

"Shit, shit, shit, everyone get in position, -"

"Will, get over here, he's gonna -"

Come here, come on, please? Won't you come back?

"Where are you?" Steve murmurs as the pain turns into the music, gliding over him, like a wave coming to shore, pulling him back to the water, back to us.

"He's talking to the siren! Somebody get -"

Come here, come back, come to me.

"Can't find you," he says, slurring his words as the song combs through his hair, like fingers scratching against his scalp. "Where're you?"

"That's it, Steve, keep talking, we got you -"

Want you here, with us, want us together, don't you?

"Yeah, yes, together," he sighs, the melody trilling in his chest, happy, sweet, soft, perfect, it'll be perfect, together, all together, just before someone reaches for his hand

He hisses and the song pulls away roughly, leaving him floating in the void, he cries out for it to come back, but he betrayed them, shouldn't have done that, Stevie, you tried to trick us -

"Shit!" Steve drops back to the bed with lead in his bones. El is still holding his hand. He was so close, the connection just barely at his fingertips.

Dustin swears as the others start to argue. The frustration is building up in the room, everyone too tense to think about answers, you sly dog, that was clever, but we don't like traitors -

"Wait, no," Steve gasps as something claws in his wounds, amused, you tried to trick me? Fine, no more playing around. "Fuck, wait -"

And the song crashes into the shore, pulls him down under where everything is sweet and cold, right back where you belong.

It's so warm out here, between the trees.

The skin on his back was blistering, biting at his flesh, before the song had gently cooled it down. He shivers at the chill, smiling when the song pulls him forward, looping around him with a sweet hum. It feels so nice, to hear the song without any distractions.

Without any interruptions.

Keep going.

Steve sighs when the song runs through his hair, laughing when it musses it all up. His hand twitches, he wants to fix it up until it's perfect again.

Keep going.

There are noises behind him, the sound of running and metal-on-flesh. It's all so slow, even slower than him. He doesn't know what's behind him, just the dark and gentle song pulling at his veins.

Keep going.

He makes it to the water, to the lake. There is no moonlight, but the song guides his steps, keeps him light. How sweet, he thinks, how sweet of you.

He makes it until his waist is plunged in the frigid water and then the song stops. He looks around but can't see anything in the shadows. There are sounds of humans yelling, of monstrous shrieks behind him, but where is the song?

"Hey."

He looks up and sees crimson eyes, half-lidded, and a smile staring down at him. Massive black wings blow gusts of wind at him. He shivers, and gives a smile in return.

His song.

The wings slow down until big, red eyes are level with his own, curls of black falling with gravity to brush against his cheek. The song hums in his chest, satisfied, delighted and sweet.

"Miss me, big boy?"

#steve harrington #steddie #writing #au content: kas!eddie #ficlet #sailing✧siren!kas #sailor✧writes #i fucking did it guys are you proud of me #i ended up adding a whole 1k because i wanted to smooth it out before posting so thank you kindly to the anon who asked me about this #i appreciate you so much and i hope you see this #can you believe half the reason this took me so long was because i wanted to make a new divider specifically for this

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respectthepetty · 4 months

Text

Pride Petty Watch - LiTA (Sky/Prapai) 1/3

The crowd picked Love in the Air as the first show to ever move off of my Petty List, so I'm watching it and recapping my experience, and oh boy, is it an *experience*. I wrote about the first seven episodes in two parts [here and here], so it's time to dive into the next six episodes!

Woot woot!

I had to make sure I didn't click on episode one again because it's the same scenes showing again. This is the third time they have been shown? Fourth? I'm here for one thing and one thing only. Quit bullshitting LiTA and GIVE ME WHAT I CAME FOR!

Oh my God, my heart just jumped into my throat with this music and this lighting behind this devil.

I know how their story starts. I already knew. I will be not be upset at him. I will not get into my feelings about this even though this music and lighting are hellbent on making Prapai seem like The Worst™

I would love to claim "pink = 💕love💕" but not today, Satan.

Sky saying "Where's the condom?" as more of a demand rather than a question and the arch of his back are an appreciation post in themselves. This is transactional and he is not here to make friends.

WHY AM I BEING SHOWN RAIN AND PAYU AGAIN?! If you don't have enough material for thirteen episodes, just say it! Because my boy disassociated, went on autopilot, and is now tucking this nightmare away in a dark corner of his mind in true Trauma Compartmentalizing 101 fashion, yet I gotta see Payu and Rain's Daddy x Baby nonsense another round?! I only respect one person in this house and the rest of these men can choke. I wrote what I wrote.

Hold up, Prapai was AWAKE when Sky left looking like that? And now he is reminiscing about it in all black with that black rose of death lapel pin? *Arthur Fist*

I support queer rights AND queer wrongs, but this show is testing me like I'm fucking Frodo having to deliver a ring to the depths of hell in the month of Pride. Sky just went home and cried on his bed, while this woman is talking about getting over heartbreak because Prapai can't stop thinking about this one-night stand. I cannot be queer and *here* in these conditions with el diablo smirking every two seconds.

KinnPorsche, my old enemy, we meet again. Didn't think I'd see you here, but it tracks because where there is a rich bastard incapable of getting over the poorer man he wrongfully exerted power over, there will be a robe, wine, and a sex worker. (That boy looks like the Memory in the Letter lead)

"I feel sorry for your prey" - Everyone is too busy looking at the metaphorical weather that represents the characters to notice the red alert standing right there.

On God, if a man called me like that without telling me his name and proceeded to just . . . be creepy, it'd be on like Donkey Kong. I was raised by Sidney Prescott from Scream and if a man wants to play games over the phone, then he needs to be prepared to die. And what is it with this show trying to distract me with with these problematic men working out? I know they are attractive, but as Michelle Visage stated "stop relying on that body!" AND NOW CREEPY TEXTS, and the only thing Sky thinks is a "man like that wouldn't be into [him]" . . . BL boys would greatly benefit from feminism.

Prapai, you have to get less creepy. You just have to because this is not it, my man. You are throwing out the beginning-of-a-psycho-killer vibes and I cannot. I simply. Can. Fucking. Not.

Sky is pissed at Rain, threw the flowers, and has Prapai listed as "Psycho" so it's clear who has the brain cell of these weather boys, and it's the one whose back is hurting FROM CARRYING THE WEIGHT OF THE DAMN WORLD ON HIS SHOULDERS!

I will not be swayed by the sunflowers, the fact that Prapai is aware Sky is a Sad Boy, or the blue. As far as I'm concerned, by the end of this episode, Prapai is still the devil. NEXT EPISODE!

The energy between these two is giving me GMMTV "brothers," and that is not a compliment.

I'm not going to fault Sky for not throwing away the flowers because reuse, recycle, re-

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!

*took a six hour break and contemplated the meaning of life, made an avocado smoothie then poured rum in it, started doing yoga then ended up in savasana, which means I just laid there and looked at the ceiling, and finally I remembered the gorgeous Zani is in this show, so I returned*

This boy is me and I am him. I'm so chill that if I got any cooler, I'd be an ice cube. Just chilling. So chill. The chill is immaculate. I am meditating. I am praying. I am one with the storm. I'm the chillest. Climate change no longer exists because I'm just, so, fucking, chill. ~Let's continue~

I don't want to give Prapai any credit because I already told my mom I hate him which means we are sworn enemies in this life and future ones as well, but him noticing that Sky spaced out even though he immediately jumped back into flirting mode, and him reinforcing that he thinks Sky is attractive in any state including this one should be an issue because he is still focusing on Sky's body, but he doesn't know Sky well enough to have anything else, so . . . one whole point for Slytherin, I guess.

Rain is not a real one and if Sky was a rapper, this in when he would have dropped the ultimate diss track cementing his place in academic rhetoric for all eternity. Even if I didn't know about his ex, I could have read that expression, but Rain? Once again, one brain cell, and Sky has it.

I want to give Prapai the points for the food, but he doesn't even know what Sky likes, so this is White Man Ambition at its finest. Thank goodness that Sky is throwing it awa-

NOT THE FUCKING RED AGAIN!

Dear Reader, I'm going to level with you here one and a half episodes into this arc: I now fully understand The Fuckery. I greatly appreciate the 126 people who picked this show because this is the perfect example of what I keep reading about a MAME series. The abrupt shifts between aggressive flirting, dick jokes, and trauma is jarring. I knew the kidnapping was coming for Rain, but hearing Stop say that Rain would be sexually assaulted by his gang of men if Payu didn't stop fighting back was the most violent moment of an already physically violent event that, strangely, did not affect me until that very moment. I know what is coming for Sky, yet having these intercuts of Sky's abuse, although effective, are humbling in a way I was not expecting. Because what I had thought I was walking into was a trashy watch with gratuitous sex talk and some drama, but what I'm experiencing is a lot of emotional discord as the story swings between extremes while refusing to balance itself out. There is no middle ground in this show. I will continue to be petty about this watch, but I get it now in a way I was never going to grasp without watching one of her series and I'm graciously realizing I would not have survived TharnType because even as Prapai connects the dots that something *very bad* has happened to Sky based on his interactions with Sky, he smiles because . . . well, because.

So even though Sky and Prapai's arc is smaller than the first, my watch is going to be in three parts instead of just two because . . . well, because.

~Let's continue~

I'm going to try really hard to give Slytherin points here, *grinds teeth* so even though this man is stalking Sky, he gets credit for showing up, which according to the great philosophers, is half the battle. Also, I know his lapel pins are important, so the sunflower and the bee after he gave Sky meaningful sunflowers is a nice sentimental touch, but he gets no points because HE COULD'VE OFFERED THE BOY A RIDE! The perfect pitch was right there, yet he swings and misses.

I don't listen to true crime podcasts, but I feel confident that most cases start with a stalker using several devices to contact their victim after his primary mean is blocked. Basically, I need Prapai to do as Sky's shirt says and "CHILL THE FUCK OUT!" I'm trying to give him points but he refuses to exhibit any level of chill. None. No chill. Not ice cube. Just sad hot puddle of zero chills.

I felt *something* between Sig and Som when they were arguing across the tables in episode seven, but now I know Sig is trying to instigate a fight with Som just so he can have that boy's hands around his neck. I respect it.

Sky is having a breakdown because of the onslaught of texts Prapai keeps sending him from multiple devices and as he huddles in the fetal position begging to be left alone having bursts of anger, the phone begins to vibrate signaling more texts are coming through. The director, Ne, also served as an editor on Only Friends, and if he whispered in Jojo's ears to make Ray's bathtub scene just as gut-wrenching as this, I just wanna eat some soup with Ne and know like "You good, boo?"

I am fighting for my life in these trenches!

Rain picked up Sky's phone and told Prapai to come to the hospital. Rain? Rain who was on his knees begging for Sky's forgiveness after he gave Sky's number to Prapai? As in the Rain who was told to stay out of Sky's business? Like the same Rain who Sky looked in his face and told him he would never be with Prapai? THE RAIN WHO IS NOW GIVING PRAPAI THE KEY TO SKY'S APARTMENT?! That Rain?!

"I made a promise to Rain" - Pero like . . . why do you have to make promises to not fuck with unconscious and sick people? Cause shouldn't that be a given? No? Mmm. Interesting development.

I have only watched two episodes. TWO! I'm not even halfway through this AND I know how this ends. No amount of knowledge or spoilers has properly prepared me for this journey, and now I'm scared and I want my mom to come pick me up.

But here I am. Clicking on the next episode.

pinche cabrón

#love in the air #Pride Petty Watch #I only love and respect Sky but I already knew that #but it's funny because Rain is now enemy number one #in a room full of problems‚ Rain continues to be the biggest problem #imagine that?!#but I get it now #oh do I get it #like all of it makes sense now #EVERYTHING!#Thanks for picking this show y'all #and I do sincerely mean that

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lundenloves · 1 year

Text

couples counselling II

Did someone say angst? Gimme an A, gimme an N— no? Okay. Listen I never claimed to be happy, and this is further proof. Welcome new readers, *leans on doorframe alluringly* I love writing character demise. Happy reading, kids.

↳ angst, angst and angst | 2.1k

part one | masterlist

javier being dismissive and nonchalant again. everyone calm down and stay together, this is a guided tour, follow the red flag i’m holding as we explore the peña mind.

The first seven days: in a word, torture. Well, not quite but it certainly came close by the amplified scoffs, sighs and arguments. Javier hadn’t managed to let go of the fact this whole thing was Aleta’s actual idea, a poor one at that, mumbling profanities to himself the moment he had stepped out the door. She followed behind him, refusing to walk by his side when he was being such an ignorant fuck about the whole thing.

“You want this to work?” He stopped, turning to face her in the middle of the parking lot — palms faced up in question. The sun had caught his glare, somehow injecting it with an extra dose of inconvenience just to add salt to the wound. “Huh, pateadora?”

Aleta cringed at the derogatory nickname he had used. Kicker. He’d coined it in El Paso following an onslaught of kicks to his shin under tables for inappropriate conversations, and he couldn't resist but stamp the name onto her. Like a medal to an athlete. She fucking hated it. “Get off the fucking road, pendejo.”

“Then walk with me.” His eyes followed her, condescendingly shaking his head when she’d pushed him from his stoppage. “Hardly asking for salvation, here.” Aleta groaned frustratedly at his mutter, rounding the car to enter the passenger side.

“No. You’re asking for death.”

Javier leaned his head against the steering wheel, finding his shoulders vibrating in laughter. This really was fucking ridiculous. He hit the dash with a thud, sitting back in his seat and pushing arms across his broad chest.

“This won’t work, you know.” He said, eyes fixed onto the near empty parking lot ahead of them.

Aleta studied his features, sighing at the familiar crease by his eyes and the way it loosened when he’d momentarily lifted his brow. The finger that traced across his bottom lip, then down to his jaw, smoothing over his cheek in visible stress.

“That’s only because you don’t want it to work.”

He’d snorted at that. “I’m paying two-hundred an hour for it, Aleta.”

“Fucking show interest then.” She berated loudly.

And to be fair, they’d tried. They really had tried on the task given to them. But staring at someone who literally boils your blood with a snap of his fingers was hard to do, Javier likewise, finding anything a better option than conceding to the request.

And admittedly, he’d been ducking out of it a bit. Purposely staying later at the office and tiptoeing around the house so as to not wake her when he had eventually gotten home late. He knew it would result in a chewing next Sunday at the session. He just didn’t care.

So one night when he had come home to find her sitting in the kitchen, it was endgame.

“Shit.” He dropped his jacket to the kitchen table, clutching a hand to his chest. “What the fuck are you doing?” A deep frown set across his brow, opening the fridge for a bottle of water before turning to look at her over his shoulder.

“Sit.” She near ordered, pushing out a chair for him with her foot.

He turned around. “Why.” Eyes cast downward to the floor with a sharp exhale before placing his hands on his hips purposefully. “It’s late.”

“Puto, sientas.”

Javier stared at her for a moment, his eyes twitching at her energy. He kicked the chair further wide of her leg, sitting down with his hand centre on the table. She locked eyes with him and he let out a long sigh, dropping his head to hang between his shoulders.

“You’re not trying. She asked us to try.” Aleta leaned forward onto the table, watching as he swiped his hand back toward himself.

“And you’re pushing mountains?” He quipped, sitting back and planting his feet a far distance from one another. “This isn’t a one way thing.”

“That’s what i’m fuckin’ saying, pendejo.”

Javier rubbed his face, dragging his skin down in fatigue before turning to her. “Well then let her deal with it.” An accusatory palm had been gestured toward the door, as if the Doctor was standing outside. “I don’t know why you're so insistent on us. We can’t even fucking look at eachother.” His arms thrown ahead of himself to emphasise the point.

“Fuck you.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong.” The side of his lip tugged upward at her lack of reaction, both of his hands landing flat on the table. And for a moment, a slight moment — Aleta had thought that was it for them.

And it would've been if she couldn't read Javier well, the minute flaring of his nostrils and the way he inwardly sighed, his features softening and passing as eerie hostility to anyone but the woman opposite him.

He was scared of it all.

And that’s exactly what the Doctor had clocked onto in that session come Sunday. Her notes were pointedly placed by her chair instead of her lap. It was the first thing Javier had noticed when walking in, failing to hide the crease between his brows.

“Mr and Mrs Peña.” She nodded with a stiff smile.

Javier sat back on the deep sofa, maintaining the same distance to his wife as before and looking up to the ceiling in anticipation of more headaches. The muscles in his arms flexed when his hands had been pushed through his hair, joining at his nape. “Mornin’.” He grumbled.

The Doctor took a moment before clearing her throat. “How did you get on with what we discussed?”

“We tried.”

“No we didn’t. Not really.” Javier spoke, receiving a lengthy glare from his wife.

“We did.” She bit back, wasting no time. “He’s just scared of it all.” Her words came like a dagger to Javi’s masculinity, like she’d just clawed it back and shoved him in front of a crowd. He returned his eyes to the scene before him, looking at her like a kicked dog. The Doctor tilted her head at Aleta’s words before looking to Javier.

“Does loss scare you?” Her soft tone angered him.

“No.” He replied dryly, shifting in his seat.

The Doctor allowed for his denial, her eyes flitting to Aleta who had subtly nodded as if to confirm he was lying. “He picked up extra hours. Again.”

“I already had those hours.” His arms crossed tight over his chest again in self-preservation. “I told you, I don’t know why we’re still trying. This is fucking stupid.”

Aleta bit on her lip, a projecting smile forming. “You’re the one who's paying.” Her attempt to mask the brewing anger was not working. Javier sat forward, looking toward the Doctor to ignore his wife.

“I’m paying because all you do is fucking complain.”

“And you believe the love isn’t there anymore, Javier?” There came an interception from Aleta’s pending bite, flicking a few pages deeper in her notes before looking up to him.

“No, it’s gone.” He cleared his throat while resting his elbows on his knees, looking to the floor over joined hands.

“Is that what you want?”

Javier's jaw ticked, rubbing the back of his neck before shrugging silently. His face remaining stiff, eyes stuck to the vinyl flooring as if a certain death would occur upon his looking up. “I don’t really care.” The nonchalance in his voice was expected.

“That’s bullshit.” Aleta interrupted strongly. “You fuckin’ know it is, Javi.”

He looked back at her. “Is it?” A hand ran up his neck and over his hair with a grin, her sudden reaction setting him off. “Or is that what you want? You want this whole thing to blow over?”

“That’s not what we’re here for.”

“No, we're here to waste time.” He silenced her, shaking his head before looking back to the Doctor who gave a weak smile.

“This won’t work if both parties aren’t cooperating.” She only added salt to Aleta’s wounds, the pressing of her lips rounding the words off like a fucking punch to the gut.

Javier clapped his hands once, dropping them to his thighs. “That’ll be us then.” He said, digging into his pockets to source a cigarette.

“Will it shit.”

His wife’s tone was brash, her pupils blown in impatience as he caught eyes with her. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip before sticking the cigarette to it, “I can smoke in here, right?”

The white coat opposite him nodded, shifting a few papers across her lap and back to the table. Shaking her head, she asked, “What’s the ideal outcome for you two.”

“To not kill each other.” Javier mused like this whole thing was a joke, tapping the heel of his boot on the floor. A long trail of smoke danced above his cigarette, absorbing Aleta’s attention more than his remark.

“Aleta?”

“For him to stop lying.”

She hadn’t blinked, still in a daze for the smoke.

Javier only looked at her, his eyes squinting before taking a slow drag in thought. Knee once again betraying him for the way it bounced up and down, and the quietness of her voice tightening his jaw.

“I think you two need to talk. With no avoidance.”

He snorted.

“Here. You’ll talk here.” She clicked her pen on a notebook that had been opened to a fresh page. “Javier, tell Aleta something you like about her.”

The instruction made him sigh, sitting back on the sofa and looking up in contemplation for a little too long. “Her lips.”

“Vice versa.”

“I like his eyes.”

“Who loved first?”

“Me.” Javier answered shortly, his eyes shifting toward hers for a split second.

“Recall it.”

Aleta figured out what was going on pretty quickly. It was a solemn attempt to reignite the memories in Javi’s head, maybe create a spark for a flame of their marriage to continue on.

He puffed out a breath, dropping his shoulders and looking back up toward the ceiling. “She didn’t like me, kept pushing me away.” The smoke of his cigarette came with the words, exhalation pushing them up to cloud. “But I was persistent. I wanted her.”

“Why did you want her?”

He sat forward, almost laughing with a tilt of his head. “She made me nervous.”

Aleta’s eyes averted to the floor.

“No one made me feel like that.”

The room fell quiet and for the first time, it was allowed. The white coat encouraged the way they stared at one another. Javier rubbed at his temple, leaning forward but looking back to his wife who stared down at him.

He was a stoic person.

And the breakdown of their marriage forced him to close back up. The feeling of losing that primal safety contributing to the resurface of nonchalance and disinterest.

He knew that she was aware of it.

Which only pushed him further off that cliff.

“Why did you give him a chance?”

Aleta laughed. “I don’t know.” Her smile slowly faded into a shadow, nostrils flaring in evidence to her upset.

No one had asked that before.

“How about we wrap this one up…” A smile came empathetically, closing her notebook and the matching folder titled Peña. “I just want you two to talk. That’s all.”

Javier stubbed his cigarette out in the provided ashtray, rubbing his face. “Alright.” He answered for his wife.

“And what I asked last week too. Maybe try that again.” Aleta nodded absently, unfreezing from her trance and standing up to follow Javi who held the door open. “See you next Sunday.”

Fuck. This.

It felt like Deja Vu by the time they had reached the parking lot again. Javier stood in the middle of it once more, a cigarette clung to his lip while looking back at Aleta. The long inhale he took felt futile by the way it was instantly sighed out, hand placed on his hip.

“I told you, it’s not going to work.”

“Ten years. Javier. Fucking ten years.”

His eyes looked black from where she was standing. And the calmness of his movements was telling against her building rage for every passing day, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want her.

“You really don’t want this?”

One side of his lip turned downward for the nod he gave, as if this is what he was trying to say all along. He shook his head, “No. I don’t.” Arms dropping to his sides in defeat.

He just wasn’t scared enough.

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.

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kkpwnall · 11 months

Text

if it wasn’t for bad luck i wouldn’t have luck at all

part two | rated t | 4k words [ part one ]

all my thanks and love for @fragilecapric0rnn for beta reading again. thanks for your help, and for kindly correcting my silly mistakes 💜

Eddie catches all the not-so-subtle winks Dustin throws him every time one of the kids wheedles details about the next campaign out of him, or Robin gets him going on government conspiracy theories, or Steve cracks him up with a bitchy remark.

The kid’s about as subtle as a train full of cowbells crashing into a packed clown car.

But he makes it seem so easy, to just… be their friend. Too easy. As if Eddie doesn’t have a lifetime of reasons not to.

Against his better judgment, slowly but surely, they’re eroding his finely-honed walls. Growing like moss, like ivy between the cracks.

The kids barge in one day arguing at full volume. Steve trudges in behind them and drops into the crummy plastic chair closest to Eddie’s bed, the one usually occupied by Wayne or Dustin. Well, when Dustin’s not going toe to broken toe with his friends over—

“We can’t split the party under these conditions!”

[ keep reading below, or read on ao3 ]

Steve heaves a ragged sigh, and Eddie watches as if entranced by the complicated movements of Steve’s fingers as he alternates pinching the bridge of his nose and massaging over his eyes.

He looks wrung out. When was the last time he got a decent night’s sleep?

“So someone has to pull double duty. We’ll draw straws and rotate every week,” Mike says, like he’s being the pinnacle of reasonableness. Whatever it is, Eddie’s sure he isn’t.

“That’s not fair! We should just pull someone off and make them exempt. Like Nancy or El, someone we need on more useful things.”

“What the hell are you little gargoyles arguing about?” Eddie reaches for his DM baritone and comes up short. Maybe his diaphragm got rearranged with all the rest of his guts.

It still works to cut through the kids’ argument though. Steve shoots him a grateful look.

“We’re trying to decide what everyone in the party would do in the inevitable zombie apocalypse,” Mike hurries to explain.

“Inevitable..?” Eddie glances out the window he can just barely see from his position on the bed.

It’s been weeks since they wasted Vecna, with no sign of his sorry ass returning. No blood and ash raining from the sky, no earthquakes splitting the town apart, and definitely no zombies.

“Yeah, ‘cause see, if we’ve got El on recon, Nancy and Lucas take point with ranged weapons. Argyle’s in charge of foraging and cooking—”

Steve groans and slumps back in the seat as the kids pick up steam again. He’s so dramatic, Eddie can’t help a snort of laughter he covers with a cough. Steve’s got a hand splayed over his face, from his jaw up into his hairline, like he can block out the whole world. Or at least this one conversation.

With hands like that, maybe he can...

“But someone’s gotta stay back and guard the base! And you can’t have one person on watch, what if they fall asleep or get attacked or—”

A stupid little smile curls over Eddie’s lips as he watches Steve out of the corner of his eye while the kids keep arguing.

“We’re thirteen people now, Mike! There’s no way to divide watch shifts evenly between thirteen people and twenty-four hours in a day! Even Holly can do that math!”

Eddie whips around as reality drops on him like a load of every perfidious brick this group has worn down over the past couple weeks.

“What did you just say?”

Dustin gives him a disappointed look, “C’mon, Eddie, I know you of all people can do this math. Thirteen—”

No way. Absolutely not. That cannot possibly be correct. It has to be a mistake. It has to.

Eddie does a headcount, checking them off on his fingers hidden under the thin hospital sheets to double check their math. Someone got counted twice or not at all.

His three Hellfire gremlins plus Lady Applejack and Red. Nancy and Robin and Steve round out the Hawkins crew. Add in Supergirl and Zombie Boy with their whole “saving the world” schtick for an even ten, and now he’s really starting to sweat. Then there’s Jonathan and that guy Argyle. Plus Eddie makes…

“Oh my god, I’ll do it! I’ll be the designated hitter,” Steve half-shouts. The kids just stare at him blankly, and he sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes so hard Eddie’s surprised he doesn’t black out from it. “I’ll take the double shifts in your make believe zombie apocalypse. Happy?”

Steve’s hand, the one that was covering his face, sits warm and heavy over the sheet covering Eddie’s trembling hand. Eddie has no idea how or when it got there, or if Steve even really registers where it’s landed. Not exactly holding his hand, not with the sheet between them, but definitely there. Something to focus on that’s not how he already died and he’s still being fucking haunted by the spectre of his birth.

So no, he’s not happy, and neither are the gremlins. They immediately start shouting over each other to argue with him.

“Out!” Steve starts to rise from the chair, leaning his weight on Eddie’s hand and points at the door with a snap. “Get out! Go bother Max and Lucas with this shit, or I’m not driving your sorry asses back here tomorrow.”

And just like that, Dustin ushers them out, still grumbling and arguing. He shoots Steve a look, but Steve glares him down with a hand on his hip.

The door slams behind them and it’s finally, blissfully quiet.

“Jesus Christ with those kids,” Steve mutters as he reclaims his seat, “It’s like they can’t shut up for five minutes.”

Eddie is silent next to him in the bed, and he’s pretty sure if Steve’s hand wasn’t on his, it’d be shaking. The rest of him is. This clawing, aching, tingling vibration just under his skin. The tremor is coming from inside the house.

He knows better than this, he knows better, what the hell is he thinking.

He needs to stop fooling around and get his act together, or with his luck, there really will be a zombie apocalypse and all of these people will be casualties of it. All because of him.

“Sorry,” Steve says, sheepishly. “This is like, your room. I shouldn’t’ve kicked them out if you wanted them here. You just... you looked like you needed a break.”

“Yeah, I— yeah, it’s fine,” Eddie says on a rough exhale. Takes a steadying inhale. And judging by the bags under Steve’s eyes, “Looks like you could use a break yourself, man.”

“They’ve just been arguing about that stupid zombie apocalypse shit for hours!” Steve throws himself back in the chair and launches into his own rant.

One hand gestures wildly, digging through his hair and underscoring his words, while the other stays where it’s been planted, gently covering Eddie’s. Twitching and flexing occasionally.

He lets Eddie catch his breath. He gives him enough space that Eddie could slip his hand free, could pull away without making a big deal out of it. He has to feel Eddie’s hand by now, he has to. But he doesn’t move away.

Eddie doesn’t move away either.

He doesn’t have a good reason not to. In fact, he’s got nothing but good reasons to pull his hand back and let them both pretend like none of this ever happened.

But Steve’s hand is warm and solid over his, even through the sheet. And where would he put his hand anyway? Where would it go, untethered? If anything, it’d interrupt Steve’s flow, and it really seems like he needs to get all this off his beautifully hairy chest.

“—And they’re acting like it’s such a problem we’ve got an uneven number now!“

“Well they’ve kinda got a point. I mean, with thirteen…” Eddie interjects.

Steve flashes him a broad, cocky smile. “Hey, thirteen’s my lucky number.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie mumbles, mostly to himself.

Steve hears him anyway. “No, I’m serious! It’s been my jersey number since I was a kid. Like even way back when I was just playing tee ball. Oh, and get this! Somehow, all through grade school, I was number thirteen on the roll call list. Every year! I mean, that’s crazy, right?”

No, crazy is being pulled out of hell itself by the sheer force of will and determination of a guy whose lucky number is thirteen.

This is just too ironic for words. It’s bordering on absurd.

But Wayne’s always tried to tell him truth is stranger than fiction.

Eddie keeps his mouth shut with gritted teeth, holding back a laugh. Or maybe a scream. Either would land him in the loony bin, because once he started, he wouldn’t ever stop.

“And anyway, the way I see it, our luck’s never been better.”

That unsticks Eddie’s mouth.

“What?” he sputters. “Steve, three people are dead, Red and Henderson both have broken bones, and you got chewed on by fucking demon bats!”

Steve shrugs his shoulder loosely, like it’s just the price of doing business. “Yeah, but we actually figured out who’s behind all this shit. I mean like, everything, since ‘83. Since Will went missing and Barb... We finally got answers. And we closed all the gates now, for good. He’s gone. It’s over. And we’re all still here.”

Steve’s eyes slowly trace over Eddie’s own slightly mangled body. Over the tubes and wires snaking out between the bandages wrapped around his arms. Over the one taped across his cheek, until he meets Eddie’s eyes through his lashes. “We couldn’t’ve done it without you.”

Eddie doesn’t have a clue what to say to that. To any of it. The only thing he brings to the table are nerdy references and loud music and a penchant for getting anyone close to him killed.

But Steve makes all that sound like a good thing. Like Eddie is a good thing.

If he keeps this up, Eddie might almost start to believe him.

Steve clears his throat and releases Eddie from the trap of his honeyed hazel gaze, but not before Eddie sees the rosy pink color starting to tint his cheeks. The same heat rising over his own face.

“Sorry man, we’re doing a terrible job of letting you get any rest today. The kids came in here arguing, and then I just went off like that. I can go, if you want some peace and quiet,” Steve pushes the chair back, and Eddie’s fingers twitch under his hand.

Yes. “No, you… you can stay. If you want.” Eddie grabs the remote with his free hand and waggles it at him, plasters on a smile. “Let’s just watch some tv. Put on whatever you want.”

Steve doesn’t look quite convinced, but he does scootch his chair back closer to the bed. “No no no, it’s your tv, man. I know Dustin’s always stealing the remote.”

“C’mon, seriously…” Eddie thinks for a moment until he lands on, “What did you watch when you were home sick as a kid?”

“Uh no, absolutely not.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“You’re gonna laugh...”

“Cross my heart,” Eddie says, with all the sincerity he can muster.

Steve raises an eyebrow at him, before he blows out an aggrieved sigh. “Alright, look… when I was little, like real little, like younger than the kids, my mom would set me up on the couch with a big blanket with a hot water bottle… And she’d put on General Hospital.”

Eddie presses his lips shut tight to contain his snort of laughter. It still blows his cheeks out though, and there’s a smile he can’t quite keep in.

Steve glares at him, but there’s no heat behind it.

Eddie shakes his head, grinning, “General Hospital it is.”

They surf the channels for a while but can’t find it playing anywhere. Instead, Eddie lands one of Wayne’s old favorite spaghetti westerns, and starts outlining all the tropes of the genre. But it turns out Steve’s grandpa was just as big a fan, and Steve matches him beat for beat as they roast the stilted dialogue.

Eventually, Steve’s eyelids start to droop. His head drops a few times, before he jerks back up, blinking hard. Eddie keeps talking to him, but softer now. Slower. More and more space between each sentence.

Steve’s breath slows and evens out, his chin tucks into his chest and one arm wraps around his stomach. He falls asleep in that uncomfortable hospital chair with his hand still over Eddie’s.

It’s release day.

It’s finally, finally release day. Marked on his calendar and circled in red. Or it would be, if Eddie had a calendar. He’s never been good at keeping up with those kind of things.

The point is, he’s been counting down to this day for weeks. Weeks. But this is it, today’s the day.

He’s already been denied twice thanks to the government goons.

The first time, he was so out of it on painkillers, he didn’t even realize that maybe he should be taking their questions seriously. That one’s on him for answering everything in character as Samwise Gamgee.

The second time though, he’d bet his remaining guitar on petty revenge. All because he wouldn’t sign their stupid NDA without reading it thoroughly first. Or it could have been his demand for more than a pat on the back from Uncle Sam. Eddie wasn’t about to walk away from this all shit empty handed.

But all that’s settled now. He and Wayne got a modest farmhouse with some land, ready and waiting for them just outside of town. His name’s been cleared and the yokels bought the cover story, hook, line, and sinker. And there’s a stipend coming to a bank account with his name on it every month, as long as he keeps his trap shut. It’s enough that Wayne won’t have to work unless he really wants to.

All the doc has to do is sign his release form, and he’s gone. Eddie is leaving today or so help him—

But it’s not the doctor that comes through the door, or even Wayne.

It’s Steve.

With a “knock knock”, out loud, even as he knocks on the door, peeking around it, and beaming when he sees Eddie.

“Wayne sent me ahead with this,” he drops a hefty duffel bag on the foot of Eddie’s bed. “He and Dustin are just finishing up at the house, they’ll be here any minute.”

Eddie balks a little at that, but Steve chuckles knowingly.

“Don’t worry, Henderson’s leaving with me. I had to bribe him with a trip to the comic book store, but at least it’ll give you and Wayne some time to get settled at the new place.”

“Is it good?” Eddie can’t help but ask. Hates how small it comes out. There’s always a chance the suits decided to screw them over.

Steve answers with one of those soft smiles of his. “Yeah, man. It’s great. You’re gonna love it.”

“Good, good,” Eddie says absentmindedly. He has to tear his eyes away and grab the bag, start rifling through it. All the while trying not to wonder who picked out these clothes and who packed them up and—

“I’ll uh, give you some privacy,” Steve says as Eddie pulls out a heavy red plaid and a pair of sweats.

He pulls the curtain around Eddie’s bed between them, but he doesn’t leave. Instead he asks if Eddie wants the latest (and hopefully last) hospital gossip.

“Uh, duh! I gotta know if Luellen’s made a move yet.”

Eddie wrangles his arms inside the hospital gown and pulls it roughly over his head to throw it in a heap in the corner. Ooo-ing and gasping at all the right moments during Steve’s tales of intrigue.

He has to move slower than he wants to, has to take his time and sit on the edge of the bed, dangling his legs to the floor to shimmy into the sweatpants.

And whoever picked the flannel deserves a goddamn Nobel prize. He’s able to slip it on easily without agitating his remaining stitches or lifting his arms above his head. And once he’s got the buttons done up, it’s loose enough not to snag or cling.

Eddie digs around in the bag again and fishes out a pair of slip-on shoes. They’re not his, not his usual style, and definitely don’t go with this getup. But the worn leather is soft, and at least he doesn’t have to deal with the whole mess of bending over to tie them. Or— god forbid— ask Steve to come over and tie them for him.

That’s an ordeal he’s not sure he’d survive.

Whoever packed this bag is getting a fruit basket.

In a soft purple crown royal bag tucked in on the side, he finds his rings and his necklace, and it makes something in his heart clench. Something slots into place, just by sliding the rings back on his fingers, the pick over his head. Whole, in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Screw the fruit basket, they’re getting a whole goddamn orchard.

Eddie’s been quiet for a long moment, not quite keeping up his end of the storytelling experience.

Steve’s gone quiet too, and Eddie’s not sure how long it’s been since either of them said anything.

On the other side of the curtain, Steve clears his throat, and his sneakers squeak on the tile as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Are you decent?”

Eddie snorts out a laugh. “I’m dressed if that’s what you’re asking.”

He catches the tail end of Steve’s eye roll as he pulls back the curtain. He looks Eddie up and down as he comes around. Smiles softly and gets comfortable on the foot of the bed, one leg folded underneath him.

“Ready to go?”

“You have no idea,” and Eddie has to fight the urge not to throw himself back dramatically on the bed. Damn the stitches.

“Yeah, I don’t blame ya. My longest stay wasn’t even half as long as they’ve kept you, and I was climbing the walls by the end of it.” He rubs unconsciously at the scar running through the edge of his eyebrow.

Eddie does not take his hand and pull it away to soothe the aching memory himself. He doesn’t even think about it, really. Definitely doesn’t have to distract himself with an old habit like sliding his rings off and on his fingers.

“What, unseasoned hospital food doesn’t appease your refined palette?” he teases in a haughty voice.

“If I had to eat one more piece of dry, rubbery chicken…” Steve threatens.

“No way, man, the pork chops are way worse.”

They argue back and forth, ranking the rest of the limited hospital menu on a scale of pudding cups to sawdust, and it’s good, it’s easy.

Until there’s a lull in the conversation, and Steve clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. Sits up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders like he’s psyching himself up.

“Hey so I was thinking… Maybe once you’re all cleared, I can take you out for dinner sometime? I promise it’ll be better than any of this crap.”

Steve looks so earnest, so hopeful, with that confident damn smile curving his lips and his heavy lidded eyes watching Eddie. His hands flex like he wants to reach for him. But he stays still and gives Eddie his space. Must somehow know Eddie would be even more likely to run if he did.

A tight knot of want and can’t claws roughly up Eddie’s throat and he’s pretty sure he stops breathing.

He has to tell him. Knowing Eddie, being friends with Eddie, it’s dangerous. It always has been. He’s let himself indulge in this fantasy for way too long. He has to put a stop to it, now.

It’s more dangerous than Dustin, than Wayne, than Chrissy. Not just a friend but something— someone more.

“Steve…” who Eddie cannot even begin to think about being anything. He won’t.

Eddie Munson is nobody’s happy ending.

“You don’t want— this,” he chickens out at the last second.

Steve’s smile slowly fades and he blinks a few times. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as his head tilts to the side, considering for a moment. “I think you should let me decide what I want.”

And Eddie wants to scream.

This isn’t about you!

But of course, it is. It’s about him, and every single person that’s come before him, and every one that’s sure to come after him, and everything that has and will go wrong.

The words catch in Eddie’s throat, and he can’t say any of them. So he just sits there, frozen and silent and begging Steve to understand.

Steve looks away and lets out a long breath. Not quite a sigh as he shakes his head. He stands and starts heading towards the door.

He turns back before he gets there though, catching Eddie again in his earnest gaze.

“The real question: is what do you want, Eddie?”

And nobody’s asked him that in such a long time. Every day since he woke up in the hospital has been the same. All of his meals are pre-planned and brought at the exact same time, whether he’s hungry or not, whether he likes the food or can even keep it down or not. His schedule, from when to sleep to when to take his meds to when he does physical therapy, has been out of his hands. And then Dustin shows up with whoever he decides to bring with him that day.

Eddie’s been resurrected, but what choice has he really had?

Part of him, this new part of him born from his death and a second chance at life, is just daring him to see how far he can push his newfound luck. To prove once and for all if the curse really is broken.

Eddie’s never said no to a dare.

Steve turns to leave, one hand reaching for the door, and Eddie scrambles to his feet. Takes a few shaky stiff, baby deer steps forward as he calls him back, “Steve—”

He holds Steve’s gaze for an impossibly long moment, tracing the swirls and whorls and questions in his hazel eyes, his freckles and moles and scars.

Go big and go home.

“How about a kiss?” Eddie asks. “For luck?”

Steve’s face morphs through several expressions so fast, Eddie can’t keep track of all of them. He lands on something incredulous, his lips curving upwards in a smirk even as his eyebrows fall and pinch in the middle at the sheer audacity—

But he crosses the room in two swift strides to stand in front of Eddie. Throws a quick glance at the still-shut door, at his mouth, before meeting his eyes again. Eddie barely starts to nod, and Steve’s lips are on his.

His gentle strong hand around Eddie’s elbow reels him in, pulls him closer. Eddie’s lands on his bicep, and the flex of muscle ignites a frisson of sparks under his palm to race through his bloodstream.

Steve’s other hand caresses Eddie’s unblemished cheek. Like he’s something precious. Something to hold onto, something dear.

As far as kisses go, it’s Eddie’s first.

Soft, sure and confident, the kiss is everything Eddie could have ever dreamed of. Hurried— not as in frenzied. Hurried as in greedy. Desperate to steal the breath from his lungs before he’s even noticed it’s missing.

Eddie kisses Steve back with equal fervor, trying to pour everything he has, everything he wants, everything he fears into the movement of his lips, the sweep of his tongue.

Eddie’s hand joins Steve’s on his cheek, keeping him close. An anchor in the tsunami flooding his senses with everything Steve. Cherry lip balm and hairspray, fresh laundry, and the musky hint of sweat underneath it all. It’s intoxicating. Incomparable. Incredible.

And Eddie’s just gonna blame the weeks-long hospital stay for how fast he goes weak at the knees.

Steve’s sure, steady hand in the small of Eddie’s back guides him slowly backwards until his thighs hit the bed again, and he sits hard, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

Eddie reaches for him, eyes wide and staring up at Steve through his lashes, hooking his fingers through his belt loops. Two steps away is too far but Steve wastes no time crowding closer to stand between Eddie’s legs. He gently tips Eddie’s face up with a featherlight touch and kisses him deeply while Eddie holds him firmly by his hips.

Consuming and consumed, devouring and devoured. Wanting and wanted.

When they come up for air, Steve swoops back in, once, twice, and a lingering third time, like he’s reluctant to stop. And Eddie strains his neck to meet him kiss for kiss.

Steve finally pulls away just far enough to sigh breathlessly against his lips, “Is that all you want, Eddie?” His eyes screwed shut tight.

No. Eddie wants everything. For now though, he’ll settle for– “Somebody said something about dinner and movie?”

“Oh so now there’s a movie, huh?” Steve says, but he’s smiling and nudges his nose against Eddie’s.

“Don’t go thinking I’m a cheap date now, sweetheart,” and Eddie’s smiling too. Smiling too much for more than quick kisses that skate across their lips.

With each peck, Eddie schemes how to get Steve’s lips on his again. How to keep him. Keep him safe.

They break apart when the sharp clack-clack of heels echoes down the corridor from Eddie’s room, heralding the doctor’s arrival.

Eddie was born under a bad sign. But maybe here, in this new life, he can make his own luck.

[ also on ao3 ]

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #steveddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things steve #stranger things eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #friday the 13th fic #bad luck fic #kk writes

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thatmexisaurusrex · 2 months

Note

🚙 - bucktommy, or buddietommy if you are up for it! love the idea of a road trip ficlet with either. 😊

You know what? Yeah. Yeah, let's do a buddietommy fic. I'm a little nervous to do one, but I hope everyone enjoys the fic 🥰

El Paso to LA

"Okay, bags - check. Chris' favorite road trip snacks organized by tastiness - check. Itineraries printed out - check," said Buck proudly, ticking off items on his list.

And.

And where had Buck found a clipboard?

Eddie didn't remember packing a clipboard. Eddie glanced over at Tommy and just got a little, Yeah, I'm not sure where he hid that either shrug.

"We have an itinerary?" asked Chris, maybe - maybe excitedly?

"Wait. Was that why you went to the business center of that hotel on the way here?" asked Tommy curiously, and Eddie did vaguely remember that.

Well.

Eddie was sort of in a state of post-orgasm high and wasn't really paying attention to anything at that point. But he vaguely remembered Buck suddenly gaining energy after all they had done and just - ran out in only pajama pants.

Huh.

Of course careful planning was what got Buck energized again.

Not that Eddie was complaining.

The round two was pretty great after that.

Or.

Was it round four at that point? It was hard to keep track of with two boyfriends.

Buck beamed as he took out an intricately detailed and kind of gorgeous itinerary on heavy stock that felt more like a wedding invitation than a trip schedule.

And.

Eddie.

Wasn't going to think wedding. God, what was wrong with Eddie? He had been seeing these two for, what? A month? Fell into bed with them after a karaoke trivia night and just - just never left. Never stopped falling into bed with them.

Not that either complained.

They seemed to take Eddie as a part of their relationship. As someone who was always supposed to be there.

Like he belonged.

And.

Eddie never had that before. He always felt like he was inextricably attached to people due to circumstances. Not that he didn't love those people any less for that, but - but this felt like the first time he was really choosing someone for himself.

Two someones.

To care about too.

Who cared about him.

Who checked on him. And, fuck, people didn't usually check on Eddie. They didn't ask if he was okay. They didn't curl up next to him and make him feel - feel safe. And wanted. And cared for.

And Eddie was going to have to explain this to Christopher soon.

Somehow, he was going to have to explain that this was more than Dad's two very good friends helping him pick Chris up from his grandparents after an understandably needed summer away.

Eddie would explain it.

But for now, he was just happy to see Buck and Chris excitedly talk about all the roadside attractions they were going to see.

Perks of a boyfriend who traveled all across the country, Eddie supposed.

Eddie felt an arm around his shoulder and - and he looked up. Annoyingly, he had to look slightly up at his boyfriends. Why did they both have to be two inches taller than him?

"Hey," said Tommy.

And.

Okay, Eddie smiled at that. Which was ridiculous. The only thing the man said was hey. Yet it still made Eddie giddy.

"Hey yourself," said Eddie, a little frazzled by the fondness in Tommy's eyes.

"It's going to be okay. We're here for you, Edmundo," whispered Tommy and, fuck, the way Tommy could say a first name.

Nope.

Can't jump him now.

Your son is right there, you cannot traumatize him by climbing this tree of a man where god and everyone can see.

"I - I know. Just. I just need a minute. To take this in. To know that it's really happening," said Eddie.

To know that he was getting his son back.

It was almost too much. To have his whole heart there. To have Christopher want to come back home. To have him home with Buck and Tommy.

Everyone Eddie wanted right there.

Eddie leaned on Tommy, allowing himself to feel the immensity of that.

#buddietommy #911 abc #tommy kinard #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddietommy ficlet #polyfire #my fics #El Paso to LA #asks

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ladykailitha · 10 months

Text

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 12

And here we are at the end. Thank you so much for being on this journey with me.

Here we have Steve's POV of the last scene from last week, he talks to Hopper and Steve's uncle further proves he'd be a better parent than Clint Harrington.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11

****

Steve watched Eddie march to the truck and let out a shuddering breath. He thought that they had really connected here. But now as they were going back to Hawkins it appeared that Eddie was just going to leave that here in Ashland.

He got to his car and looked at the sad little cooler and just lost it. He started cursing and hitting the steer wheel.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he hissed. “You never did hear a name, did you, Harrington? Apparently he was in love with someone else all this time and was only being nice because you were having a mental break down.”

He could feel the tears stream down his face. Bitter and angry. “You should have been supporting him not the other way round. That’s probably why he’s soooo pissed at you. Because he was grieving and you made it all about you. Like you always do. Fuck!”

Just then the passenger side door was wrenched open and Eddie slid in.

The tears dried up instantly in his surprise. “Eds?”

And then Eddie proceeded to just knock all his intrusive thoughts out of the fucking ballpark. Just sent them running like a scared dog with its tail between its legs.

Then kissed him about it.

They still needed to have a proper conversation but that could wait until they were back in Hawkins.

Steve could live with that.

When they got home they had that talk. Eddie learned about all the different girls who had propositioned him and was pissed on his behalf.

“That’s fucking bullshit,” he said. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

Steve shrugged. “You had enough on your plate. Plus, I sicced Uncle Danny after them.”

Eddie blinked. “Oh. I think I would have paid good money to see that.”

“I didn’t have to send anyone after Beth though,” Steve said with a grin, “Lauren did that all on her own.”

“I’m so glad you two got along,” Eddie murmured. “But in the future, you tell me these things. I want to protect you, the way you protect everyone else, okay?”

Steve agreed.

Wayne walked into the new house provided by the government, wiping his hands on an old rag.

“Everything is in the garage for us to sort and place later,” he told Eddie.

“You two going to be wanting help getting everything in?” Steve asked.

Wayne shook his head. “Lauren and her Uncle Hal are coming out next week to help out.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “Yeah? I didn’t hear about that.”

Wayne had the presence of mind to blush. “It must have slipped my mind.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve and Eddie said together.

Wayne cleared his throat. “So I’m going to be seeing you a lot more now that you and Ed are together?”

Steve grinned, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and putting his head on his shoulder. “I’ll be here so often, you’ll think I live here.”

Wayne hummed. “We’ll come back to that in a few months.”

Eddie blushed. “Nice to know you aren’t planning the wedding already, old man.”

Wayne blinked innocently. “Oh I am, but I’m thinking fall of next year or the year after.”

Eddie coughed and sputtered as Steve laughed.

He turned to Steve. “Why aren’t you defending me against this?” He waved at Wayne’s smug expression.

“Because I’m already coming up with arguments for a late spring early summer wedding instead.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “That’s some confidence you got there, darlin’. What makes you think I’ll say yes.”

Steve kissed him, slow and searing.

Eddie blushed. “Yup. Okay. Uh-huh. Point made.”

Wayne just smiled fondly.

Steve was really starting to regret setting the party on his Uncles Percy and David.

Robin, El, and Will had kidnapped Percy, while Dustin, Mike, and Nancy had absconded with David somewhere.

Eddie, Lauren, and Jonathan were talking to Hal and Lucas, Max, and Erica were talking to Wayne.

Hopper came up to Steve and put his arm around his shoulders.

Steve relaxed into the embrace.

“You did good, kid,” Hopper said. “I’m proud of you.”

Steve nodded and then rubbed the end of his nose, trying to fight back the tears.

“I had a long talk with Joyce about some of her choices that she made while I was gone,” he continued. “I’m glad I’m out of that hell hole, but she should have made sure everyone was safe first.”

“She had a lot on her plate,” Steve murmured.

Hopped cuffed the back of his head. “Don’t you go forgiving her without her apologizing first. I had to go back to California because apparently some fucked up general decided to shoot up the Byers house in Lenora.”

Steve looked over at Hopper in shock. “They did what now?”

Hopper nodded. “It was a complete shit show. But you have to know, I wouldn’t have just left you behind if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

“I know, I just...”

“Just wish you didn’t have to handle it?” he asked. Steve nodded. “I getcha. I wish you didn’t have to either. But I trust you to take care of everyone here, because I know they’re in safe hands with you.”

Steve choked back a sob. “Thanks, Hop.”

“Still can’t believe you’re dating that Munson kid,” he teased.

Steve pushed Hop way playfully. “Oh fuck off. He’s a good man.”

Hop looked over at him talking to Jonathan and Hal. “If he gets you to take care yourself or at least does it for you, he gets a pass from me.”

Steve blushed. “He takes care of me. It’s incredible how easy he makes it look.”

“I know your family was shit growing up,” Hop said. “But look at it now.”

Steve looked out at the fifteen-sixteen people out there lounging around the swimming pool with fondness.

“I always wanted a big family,” he said softly. “Who would have thought that all it would take is some extra-dimensional monsters to make it happen.”

Hopper chuckled. “I feel you kid. Before I started all this, I had lost my daughter to cancer and my wife to divorce. Now, not only do I have another daughter to take care of, I have a woman I love and her two boys that are like her sons to me.”

Steve made a grimace. “Does that mean Jonathan is my step-brother, because ew.”

“I heard that Harrington!” Jonathan called out.

Steve and Hopper laughed.

Eddie came bounding up to Steve. “I’m not sure I want the Chief as a father-in-law, babe.”

Steve smiled. “Oh that is going to make for some very awkward family dinners.

Percy came up behind Eddie.

“Hello, I’m Steve’s uncle, Percy,” he said extending his hand to Hopper to shake.

“Yeah,” Hopper said. “I’ve been hearing all about you. I’m sorry Clint Harrington kept you away from Steve for all this time.”

Percy nodded. “Jasper being an idiot didn’t help, unfortunately. But I’m in Steve’s life for good. There’s nothing that his parents could do that would change that.”

Steve gave Percy a hug in gratitude.

“Welcome to Hawkins then,” Hopper said with a smile. “It’s bit of a mess at the moment, but it’s home.”

“Well,” Percy said with a smile, “the welcome so far has been amazing I’m happy Steven has a support system now.” He turned to Steve. “May I pull you away for a moment. There’s something I would like to talk to you about.”

Steve looked at Hopper and Eddie who both shrugged. “Sure, lead the way.”

Percy went inside the kitchen and sat down at the counter. “When you told me that you didn’t get into the colleges and universities you applied for, I called around.”

Steve frowned. “Why? My grades slipped after Christmas my senior year. I ended at 2.76 GPA. I figured that wasn’t good enough to get in.”

“Yes,” Percy said. “If they only looked at your senior year. But they don’t. They look at a cumulative GPA from all your years at high school. You had a cumulative GPA of 3.16. Which is more than enough to get into any college you wanted. Especially with you still winning medals in swimming.”

His frown deepened. “But Dad said that I didn’t get into any of those schools.”

“Yes, which I thought was odd,” Percy further explained. “Which is why I called. Steven, you got accepted into two thirds of the schools you applied for.”

Steve leaned back. “What? That’s not possible.”

“I’m guessing Clint only showed you the one third you didn’t get into and told you the rest was the same.”

“Why?” he breathed. “Why would he do that?”

“Because the schools you got into weren’t the ones he wanted you to go to is my next guess.”

“I can go to college?” Steve asked, his lip quivering. “I don’t have to be stuck here my whole life?”

Percy shook his head. “You are a smart young man, and David and I are very committed to helping you get to where you want to go in life. Your parents mail have failed you, but I promise we won’t.”

Steve let out a shaky breath. “Thank you so much.”

Percy got up and hugged him. “Now go back out to your boy, he’ll be worried about you.”

Steve nodded and walked back out.

Percy followed close behind and wrapped his arm around David’s waist.

“You think they’re going to be okay?” David asked as they watch Steve and Eddie cling to each other.

“Oh yes,” Percy said. “It may have taken a tragedy to get them here, but they are smart boys with a great support system. There is nothing those boys can’t do now.”

“I’m happy to have met them,” David said.

“Me too.”

****

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster @r0binscript @awkotaco24 @ilikeititspretty @5ammi90

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #minor character death #dealing with grief

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ellieluvr420 · 8 months

Text

We meet again, darling pt.15 (detective Abby Anderson x criminal reader x detective Ellie Williams)

Synopsis: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.

SMUT mdni !!

It had been exactly a week since your night at the club and you had spent almost every minute of everyday since with both women. Abby stroked your hair gently as she whispered your name. You wake with a groan and a frown and her face heats as she admires your complexion.

"Hi, sorry to wake you, I've been called into work so I've gotta go. I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I can." She kisses your forehead and you hum.

"Do you want me to call Jeremy for you?"

"No it's okay my car here's remember?" Abby had been staying with you more and more often so she had everything she needed to get ready and she was out of the door as the sun was barely coming up. You drift back off to sleep until you're woken by the midday sun casting a bright golden hue over the room. You roll over and scoot closer to Ellie's naked form until your front is pressed against her back like two puzzle pieces fitting together. You wrap an arm around her torso and press light kisses over her shoulder blade and neck, she sighs and interlinks her fingers with yours as she pulls your arm closer around her. You both lay basking in the warm glow of the sun as you doze until you feel Ellie shifting and turning. As she lies on her side to face you and you meet her emerald green eyes you feel hot, you shuffle closer to her so there is no space between the two of you as you kiss over her collarbones and chest. Your hands roam and squeeze at her hips, her waist and you hear her gasp as your hand snakes upwards and squeezes her perky tit.

"You don't know how much I needed this." You pull back to meet her flushed face and run a hand through her messy hair.

"I do love, I do." Ellie's hands dart out to grab you and manoeuvre herself on top of you as you gasp at her sudden movement. She immediately leans down capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss that made everything other than you and Ellie melt away.

"Let me make you feel good, please I need you." She says through pants.

"Someone's greedy, I'm surprised you're not tired from last night."

"Don't be a tease, I'll do all the work, please babe." She feathers kisses down your jaw and neck as you pretend to contemplate your decision.

"How could I say no when you asked me so nicely?" You smile and she immediately shifts to slot your hips together while pressing your calf to her shoulder, as her hips begin to move on top of yours you whine and she moans at the sound. She's staring at every inch of your body, her eyes transfixed on the way you move and how your face twists in pleasure, everything feels like its going in slow-motion as her hands explore you as if she was sculpting you from clay. You wrap your hand round the back section of her hair and pull her down to meet your plump lips. Your moans are muffled and swallowed by the pressing of your lips against hers as you both inch closer to your orgasms.

Her body mirrors yours as you both heave and tremble as every nerve in your body feels like it will explode instantaneously.

"Oh fuck, El you're doing so good, I'm so close just keep going ugh my god." Her speed and intensity immediately ramped up at your praise and eventually the band snapped and you convulsed and grabbed onto Ellie as you both rode out your highs, she collapses on top of you and you feel her heartbeat pulsing against you as you scratch at her scalp. Everything is serene and quiet as the only noise that filled the room was both of your quiet breaths until your phone rang.

You see Abby's contact and the memory of her waking you up flashes back to the front of your mind, you immediately answer and put the phone to your ear without a word.

"I'm on my way back to yours now, we need to talk."

"How bad is it?"

"Bad."

Abby groaned as she untangled herself from your body that she had been pressed up against as she received the call from her captain telling her she needed to be in the office asap. She didn't stop huffing and groaning as the hangover was pounding at her head on her drive to work or when the nausea hit as she was stood in the stuffy elevator of her office building. She only stopped to consider why she could have been called in on a Saturday morning when she saw the commotion in front of her. Officers were marching around everywhere, there were boards with various names and pictures all connected to each other, she stood frozen until her captain called her over and she moved towards him reflexively.

"Sorry to call you in at this time but I thought you would want to know. We brought a guy in last night and he's given us everything he knows about the gang that stubborn dick we arrested is from for a shorter sentence. We've managed to connect many open cases to this gang from his information. We're just finding more and more on them now."

"Oh." Abby's ears were ringing and the lights were burning brighter and brighter until she had to squint, the sound of the buzzing of the bulbs competed with the ringing as Abby flexed her fists open and shut to try and stop the tingles pricking at her fingertips. "Oh wow that's really good." She chokes out coughing a little as she finishes her sentence.

"You okay Anderson?" Her stomach flipped at his question and adrenaline surged as she realised she needed to play it cool so she could warn you, her focus was only on protecting you and it drowned out the stimulation frying her other senses.

"Yeah sir, sorry. Went out last night thinking I would get a lay in." She chuckles and he joins her.

"Well sorry about that. I don't need you to stay too long I just need you to familiarise yourself with everything from the case because we need to move fast."

"Yeah of course." He turns to walk away but stops looking back at her clearly remembering something he wanted to say to Abby.

"Abby, he also mentioned a woman-" Her breathe was knocked out of her at his words but she fought her body trying to dissociate herself from the conversation so she knew what she needed to tell you. "He didn't know much, just said that she's the best kept secret in the game. He said there's a woman, and that she is the one that runs the gang, the man on top is just a front. Do you think it could be the woman you were trailing?"

Abby feels a bead of sweat rolling down the back of her neck at his question but she forces words out of her mouth like her life depends on it, she feels like in a way it does. "No, no I was wrong with her, I wasn't sleeping much, bad break up and so I got fixated on something that wasn't really there. I went back through everything once I had cleared my head and none of it added up. At worst I would say she's a shady prostitute. Sorry." She shrugs her shoulders and internally cringes at the thought of your reaction to her calling you a 'shady prostitute' but her face remains stoic and cold.

"No worries, We'll find her anyway, just leave when you're done alright."

"Yeah got it." She felt like she was sleep walking as she made her way through all the notes and processed all the information on the boards, all her mind was occupied with was you and images of you arrested or, knowing your stubbornness, dead. The second she had looked at everything she was racing home to you as she dry-heaved while fighting the growing hangover and stress-induced nausea.

As the elevator doors dinged open into your penthouse she felt relieved as the safety and comfort of being here with you washed over her, it only lasted a second as you suddenly came into view with an anticipatory grimace on your face. She begins walking towards you and you walk her over to the couch where you sit and wait for her.

"So." She sits next to you but you're both angled to sit face to face and she sighs trying to figure out how to word what she had to tell you. "They know about you. Your gang, they have names, they've connected your men to so many open cases, they're gearing up to do a large scale raid and they know about you. They don't know your identity but they know you exist and that you run things. They're working on finding out who you are right now and I think they might manage it." She blurts the words out and has to take a couple deep breaths as she feels dizzy from her monologue.

You stay still, you don't blink, Abby doesn't see your chest rise and fall, you just don't move. She leans forward and you jump up to stand and start pacing. "How long do you think I have?"

"I don't know, a couple of weeks at most." You nod as you rub your forehead trying to soothe the aching.

"Okay, I need to make some calls."

You walk off to get your phone and Abby runs her hands over her thighs as she focuses on breathing. She's panicking over a gang, a huge gang responsible for so much violence and death, and she's panicking over the police taking them down. She realises she's referring to the police as 'them' and you and the gang as 'us' and she takes in the fact that she is going to have to choose between you and her life. She succumbs to the argument in her mind until you walk back over to her and press a kiss to her cheek as you put you phone to your ear and whisper to her.

"Do you want a coffee?" She nods with a mouthed 'thank you' and as she watches you walk away to make the drinks her mind goes quiet. There is no competition, no argument, she'd follow you to hell and back, she was no longer a detective, no longer her own person. She's yours and where you go she'll go. This was it now, the rope that you had been dragging her from was no longer a rope tied to her heart, it was a thick, heavy chain with no beginning or ending, it squeezed at her heart any time she felt too far from you so she never strayed. She would always be by your side and she'd do anything to keep you by hers.

#abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby x reader #tlou abby #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby anderson fanfic #ellabs x reader #abby and ellie #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellabs #ellie williams tlou

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2012wannabe · 2 months

Note

Idk if ur still doing the kinktober thing but I was thinking about #17 w/ Ellie x toxic!reader and readers ex!Abby 🤷🏾‍♀️........ omg who said that??👀

(It was definitely me)

~☁️

17. Threesome/Moresome

wc: 1505

cw/tw: threesome, toxic!fem!reader x gf!ellie x ex!abby, smut obvi lol, pussy eating, fingering, strap on, throat fucking

a/n: I am!! Honestly I’ve had so much trouble writing for the past few years so I live on requests to help give me ideas! For anyone feel free to send requests/asks to my box and I’ll do my best to put something together :))) I hope I did your prompt justice. I’ve also never written Ellie before so I also hope she isn’t too ooc

You cheerfully slid on the couch next to Ellie, flinging your arms around her.

“Hi, els.” You say, kissing her cheek.

“Hey, baby.” She says, sliding her arms around your waist comfortably.

“I missed you so much today. You were gone for so long.” You pout.

“I know, my patrol went overtime because the people that were supposed to replace us were delayed. But I’m here now.” You respond by kissing her on the lips and pulling her forward. She reciprocates the kiss and fixes your hair, putting it back behind your ear.

“So you know, I was thinking… You told me a while ago that you wanted to try something new and I thought we could spice things up a bit.”

“Spice things up a bit how?” She asks, holding your waist still.

“We could… you know, explore new boundaries by having… a threesome.”

“What?” She exclaimed, her eyebrows quirking in confusion.

“With who?”

“We would decide that together but I was thinking Abby. I know you think she’s hot.”

“Your ex, Abby?”

“Yes.” You say pursing her lips. Ellie immediately goes to nod her head no and you jump up to hug your arms around her neck.

“Hey, it won’t be that big of a deal. Don’t you trust me, baby?” She still looks hesitant and you start to lean into her.

“I trust you…”

“It’ll just be once. Besides… if you really love me.” You say your voice trailing off the last syllable. Her eyes widen as she starts to think it over. You hold her gently and look her eyes as innocently as you can manage and start to speak,

“I know you’ve been thinking about it too…” Ellie takes another moment to think and eventually says before pausing again,

“If it will make you happy then yes.” You pout,

“I don’t want you to do it just for me, I want you to do it because you want to.” There’s another strength of silence and she starts to fiddle with her ring and pinky finger on her left hand.

“I want to do it.”

“Aw, thanks els!” You say pressing light butterfly kisses all over her face. She laughs a bit, semi-forced but smiling at seeing you smiling.

….

The day finally comes, and you excitedly get ready in the mirror. You pull out all the stops, a full face of makeup, lingerie, and a pretty outfit over it. You swish your skirt in the mirror loving how it was so short you could see the round of your butt.

“What do you think els?” You ask bending over her, showing off the other part of your outfit; a low-cut crop top that pushed your breasts out for her to see. Her mouth instantly dries despite her own pout.

“You look… perfect.” You smile a big cheesy smile and do a little spin for her. Seeing your ass under your skirt, she mutters under her breath,

“Jesus Christ.”

“It looks good doesn’t it?”

“Don’t ever wear that skirt out. Don’t want strangers seeing what’s mine.” You giggle at that and swish your skirt once more to show off your butt. The doorbell suddenly rings and you grin widely.

“Can you go get the door els? Need to put on one last touch.” She nods slowly and gets up to the door as you dash to the bathroom. Kneeling, you pull a small box from the cabinet and open it to find the butt plug and bottle of lube. You insert it carefully and adjust your thong to keep it hidden for now. You walk back out and smile brightly at Abby, who is standing out with Ellie. Both girls look slightly awkward and the air is a bit tense but the tension melts when they look at you.

“Hey Abs!” You say greeting her with a kiss on both cheeks. Her face flushes and grabs their hands dragging them along with you. You sit on the bed, perfectly poised, and grin as Ellie leans forward to kiss you. You kiss her back fiercely and Abby leans your body into her lap. Her hands reach around to play with your breasts, cupping them over your clothes and feeling the soft exposed skin. Ellie pulls away from your kiss, grinning as you are connected by a string of spit. She grabs your waist and slowly peels off your shirt, leaving your lacy bra. Abby’s hands immediately returned to your breasts, unclipping your bra as quickly as she could. She gasps lowly as you're exposed and as Ellie kisses her down your body, Abby leans over to kiss you.

As she kisses you, her hands start to tweak your nipples and you gasp into your mouth. You moan lowly and lose yourself in her touch until you hear Ellie gasp.

“Holy fuck…” She whispered, having pulled down your skirt and thong to find the butt plug you inserted. Abby looks up and laughs, smirking at you.

“Left us a gift?” She mocks as Ellie twists and pulls at it making you moan out loud. Ellie gives a playful slap to your cunt and you yelp. Abby leans down to kiss you again as Ellie starts to trace around the edges of your pussy experimenting with trying to push the pads of her fingers in.

“Please els.” You beg through Abby’s lips.

“Want to be full…”

“Oh you do, don’t you?” Abby coos as Ellie roughly curls her digits, fingering you. Abby carefully moves your body to lie on the bed and straddles you, unbuckling her belt. From the sound alone, you nearly gasp at the anticipation. Unzipping her pants, you see something you haven’t seen in a very long time; her thick black strap-on. She lightly taps it against your jaw and your mouth drops open obediently. She roughly shoves it in and you moan as Ellie continues her assault, curling her fingers to hit your g spot. In a strange opposition, Abby gently combs your hair away from your face, grabs it by the handful, and groans as she pumps it into your mouth. You moan loudly and spit messily drips down from the side of your mouth. Abby thrusts particularly hard and you gag.

“There you go… good girl.” She whispers watching your face intently. Between both women, you feel the coil in your core getting close to snapping. Ellie’s fingers pump in and out, suddenly putting pressure on your clit. You gasp, leaving more room for Abby to push her dick in, your nose practically nuzzling her pelvis. You try to mumble,

“Gonna cum,” but you can barely think much less talk. Suddenly the coil snaps and Ellie along with the sheets are soaked.

“Holy shit…you squirted babe.” She says looking at you and Abby. Abby smirks and slowly releases your mouth.

“I didn’t know I could do that.” You say quietly, your head back in bliss. Ellie kisses you square on the lips, gently cupping your jaw.

“You did so good for us.” She whispers as you slowly sit up to change positions.

“Can we…want to eat you out.” You say pawing at Abby’s waist. She grins settling back on the bed, straddling your face. You gesture to Ellie to come closer and as you lie in between Abby’s legs, Ellie makes herself at home to slot your leg between hers. You start by littering their thighs with light kisses, kissing up to between her legs. She groans and mutters,

“Please don’t tease.” You grin an move to suddenly lick a stripe up and Abby shivers watching Ellie slowly grind her hips against you.

“You’re so wet for me abs.” You say as you dive in further pointing your tongue and enjoying the feeling of her arousal dripping down her leg. You tease her hole with your tongue, letting the pads of your fingers find her clit and rub circles around it. She lets out a loud wanton moan and her legs open wider for you. You tug her down, grabbing her thighs,

“Sit. Sit on my face.” Abby groans again, lightly lowering herself on you before you ask again.

“Don’t be afraid. Put all your weight on me.” You beg pulling at her legs. She obeys and you moan as you eat her out loving the pressure of her body on top of you. You hear Ellie whimpering as Abby moans and you love the sounds. Ellie is desperately grinding on your thigh, making quite the mess. You continue moan into Abby’s cunt as you hear Ellie’s moans get higher as she gets closer to cumming. You start to speed up with your tongue and Abby gasps. You play with her clit more and more and like Ellie her gasps and moans start to get higher.

“You close?”

“Yeah, yeah.” They both breathe out.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m cumming!” Abby yells out. You pull her closer go swallow all of her arousal and she nearly collapses against the bed. Ellie cums soon after, laying with you both, completely spent.

#eli writes #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic #muscle mommy abby #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us part 2 #ellie smut #ellie williams tlou

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estrellami-1 · 1 year

Text

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Just wanted to let y’all know that I’m about to get real busy for about a week. I’ll do my best to post on the 3rd or 4th, then again on the 7th or 8th. Thanks for understanding! ❤️

Tensions rise the longer El sits, motionless, in front of the staticky TV. Finally, she speaks. “I see her.”

Steve holds up a hand, stopping all conversation. “Is she alive?”

“Yes. Scared. I- I can’t reach her.”

“That’s okay. Is she safe? For now?”

“For now,” El agrees. “But not for long.”

“How long do you think we have?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. That’s okay. Can you look for Will, or are you too tired right now?”

“I’m tired. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be, it’s alright. I know how this ends already, remember? Here, want me to take the blindfold off?”

“Yes, please.”

“Robs? Tissue for her nose?”

Robin sprints off as Steve kneels behind El to untie the blindfold. “You did great,” he murmurs. “Thank you.”

“I looked.”

“Which is more than any of us can do,” he reminds her.

“Quick question,” Eddie says, raising his hand. “What in the hell is going on?”

“She’s got superpowers,” Steve says. “Hey, El, want us to blow up the labs while we’re at it?”

Eleven manages a shaky smile. “That would make things easier.”

“So, yes?”

She chuckles and leans into him. “I don’t know. I’m very tired.”

“Yeah, okay. Let me get you upstairs and into a bed, yeah?” She nods, looping her arms around his neck and closing her eyes. He chuckles. “I guess I’m carrying you, then?” He asks, but stands anyways, shifting her so she’s in a more comfortable position. “We can talk more once I come back downstairs,” Steve tells the rest of them, “as long as you can talk quietly.”

Nancy smirks. “That might be a little difficult for this group.”

Steve grins, shakes his head, and brings El upstairs. “My bed? Or there’s a guest bed that no one uses.”

She yawns. “Yours?”

“Sure,” he agrees, pushing open his door and tucking her in. “Y’want the door open or closed?”

“Open, please.”

“Alright. Need anything before I go?”

She shakes her head, smiling up at him. “Thank you, Steve.”

He winks at her. “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite.” She giggles and yawns again, and he chuckles. “Okay, bedtime for real. Night, El.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

As he walks downstairs, he hears the group talking. He rounds the corner and sees Eddie, Nancy, and Robin in one conversation while the boys have a different one. “Okay,” he says, loud enough to get their attention. “First things first, we need food. If anyone has anything against pizza, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He raises a brow when the boys all start speaking over each other, yelling out their topping preferences. “I’ve known you for three years,” he reminds them. “I know what you want on your pizza.”

“Prove it,” Dustin says, spark in his eyes.

Steve rolls his eyes. “You just want me to prove even more that I’m from the future,” he says, but points to each of the boys in turn. “Pepperoni, meat lovers, pepperoni.”

Lucas narrows his eyes at Steve. “Lucky guess.”

“Christ, what is it going to take with you? You like basketball because you watch it with your dad. You want to try out for the team but are scared you won’t be good enough. You are, by the way, and I help you with some of that. Your little sister Erica is a brat and a loudmouth but you love her and her weird obsession with government.”

“Don’t forget about El,” Robin adds. “She’ll want pizza when she wakes up.”

“Yeah. Eddie? What do you want on your pizza?”

Eddie smirks. “What, you don’t know?”

“I don’t, actually, because we meet while you’re on the run from something you didn’t do. There’s not much time for small talk, and you deferred to the kids when it came to food.”

Eddie looks at him for a long second before nodding. “I like pepperoni just fine,” he says, and Steve nods.

@paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy

#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual Steddie #y’all this is the slowest of slow burns istg #eleven #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #the party #I’m glad y’all seem to like this bc I’ve got NO idea what I’m doing #starambles

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year

Text

Built for Love Part 6 (MBJ x Famous OC)

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of past experience with DV

A/N: I'm really excited about this one because… we are getting some fluff and smut with minimal to no angst lol love that for them! Enjoy!

“So how’s shit with Charlotte going?” Calliet asked, the loud crack of the pool table filling the air as Michael took his first shot.

“You mean, Els, get that shit right nigga,” Stello interjected, snickering lightly as Michael rolled his eyes at him. If there was one thing his friends were always going to do, it was make fun of his romantic side.

Michael let out a low chuckle, choosing to let his best friend’s comment pass him by without a retort. “We’re good. She’s… she’s good.”

“You sure? Cause you don’t seem sure.” His friends immediately picked up on the pause in his words.

“Nah, she is good. Great actually. I’m gonna sound crazy sayin’ this but she’s the one.”

“Nigga, it’s been three months. Relax, my guy.”

Michael shrugged. “When you know, you know. And I know that shit. It’s just…” Michael scratched his head. He had not told his friends about Charlotte’s past yet. He questioned whether it was his place to do so, to share details of her life she did not offer up herself. It seemed that only her family and closest friends knew the truth and he did not want to spread it around. However, he could not deny that he could use a sounding board as he navigated such murky waters. And he was not a man who was afraid to talk with his boys about his problems and be vulnerable. He decided he would just keep it vague, the details were Charlotte’s story to tell. “Things really are good. It’s just this shit from her past that comes up occasionally. Her ex was abusive.”

“Oh shit. For real?”

“Fuck.”

“He hit her?”

Michael shook his head. “Yea. The couple things she told me were fuckin’ insane. And I don’t think I’ve heard the worst of it. If I ever see that nigga…” He let out a deep exhale as he clenched his fists. Michael was far from a violent person, he could not even tell you the last time he even had a desire to get into a fight with anyone. Everyone in his orbit, including himself, would describe him as the calming force in a room, he always had the ability to keep his emotions in check. However, if he thought too long or too hard about Shaun Parker, all he could feel was rage. And the only action he could think of was ripping him limb from limb.

“Damn, that’s tough. How is she doin’?”

“Most of the time, she’s great. She’s herself. You know she’s shy and reserved in front of other people but once she’s comfortable, she’s so energetic and fun to be around. She’s charming but still has that cute awkward shit goin’ on that keeps her real and honest, fuckin’ hilarious. But the rest… I’ll say or do somethin’ that triggers her and she seems terrified of me but doesn’t know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like it’s not a conscious thing but I can feel it wafting off of her sometimes. The first time, she broke a wine glass at my place by accident, got red wine on the rug. She’s clumsy as fuck. But I don’t care. It’s actually kinda cute. And shit happens. It’s just a fuckin’ rug. By the time she came over again, I had a new one already. She looked like she had seen a ghost, pale and freaked out. She apologized a hundred times. Her hands were shakin’ so hard, she couldn’t even pick up the glass. A couple weeks ago, she forgot we made dinner plans, same thing. And it wasn’t a big deal at all. I actually preferred it cause I was tired as hell. We ordered in and just talked. But I could feel her whole body tense like she was waiting for me to lash out at her. We were out last week, she was chatting with the waiter while I took a call. She was like an entirely different person when I got back to the table. And I wasn’t thinkin’ twice about who the fuck she talked to. But in her mind, she committed a crime or some shit.”

“That shit’s heavy,” Calliet offered as he rounded the pool table for his shot. “Seems like small shit to us but to her, it means a whole other thing. How you dealing’ with it? I know that shit bothers you.”

Michael scoffed, taking a long sip of his drink. “Of course it fuckin’ bothers me. To have the woman I love seem terrified of me, terrified I would even consider hurting her like that? Shit is frustrating. But I dunno. I did all this research on how to be supportive and been slowly tryin’ to add that in. But I dunno. Just worried it isn’t enough.”

“Want my two cents?” Steelo offered. Michael was usually weary of taking relationship advice from his best friend. Steelo’s longest committed relationship amounted to months. But he also never pretended he wanted anything else, he was more than happy living the single bachelor life. Michael decided to just hear him out. If it was bad, which it was likely to be, he would just ignore it.

“Hit me.”

“I know I was anti-Charlotte after everything went down in Philly but this the happiest I’ve ever seen you. I think you gotta just keep showing up and maybe, actually talk to her? Research is great, google is your best friend. And you can do all that. But you also gotta know what she needs and the only person who can tell you that is her. Ask her, give her time to figure out what she needs from you, and then do those things in addition to the other shit. And I know it sounds crazy but maybe she also just has to hear you say that shit. You know… assurances and all that… women love that shit.”

Michael glanced at Calliet who merely shrugged. “Hey, I agree with him. Broken clock is right twice a day.”

The men laughed a bit at Michael’s friend’s expense before the only married man in the group added, “Nah but forreal. The kid is right. Talk to her. Ask her how you can make her more comfortable and go from there.”

“That might be the first solid dating advice you’ve given me.”

“Check back in another decade, I might have more.”

***

“Dinner was delicious, babe. You know when you said you could cook, I definitely thought you were lying.”

Michael chuckled. “My momma taught me a thing or two. Said she wasn’t raisin’ niggas who couldn’t throw down in the kitchen.”

She nodded. “Well, shout out to your mom. The women of the world, particularly this one,” she pointed at herself. “Thank her.”

He brought her a plate with a piece of chocolate cake on it, his favorite. He smiled as she did a little happy dance in her seat. His girl most certainly had a sweet tooth.

“Don’t tell me you made this too? Cause then I might have to marry you,” she joked.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby,” he winked at her and smirked, causing her to roll her eyes. “But nah, my sister would kill me if I took credit for that. She’s the baker. I’m hopeless with desserts. It’s my favorite thing of hers. ”

“Then we are a perfect pair. You can cook and I’ll make dessert.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he kissed the top of her head before settling back in his seat.

He watched her eat for a few minutes, enjoying her facial expressions and small but distinct sounds of delight with every bite. She was clearly in heaven. But tonight had not just been about showing his girl a fun time and cooking for her, it was also about broaching a difficult conversation and putting his friends’ advice into action.

“Hey, Els.”

“What’s up?”

He held out his hand for hers, his thumb going to rub the inside of her wrist. He started doing it more often after their dinner date fiasco, realizing that she seemed to respond well to it. It was a small and gentle touch, but every time he did, her body visibly relaxed and seemed more at ease instinctually.

“What do you need from me to feel more comfortable and safe?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow in confusion, her spoon gently clattering against the slide of her plate as she sat it down. “What prompted that question, Mr. Jordan?”

“Well, I just know this is your first relationship since everything. There are triggers and shit that are gonna come up. And that’s ok, I know it all takes time. I just… I want to assure you that I ain’t him. And I would never hurt you. And whatever you need me to do to help you believe that and feel you know, more at ease, I’ll do it.”

Charlotte’s heart melted for a moment before her own guilt set in. She tried not to think much about her triggers. They happened far too often. And each time, she would curse herself for it, profusely remind herself that Michael was not her ex, and swear to herself that it wouldn’t happen again. However, it always did and it felt like by the time she saw it coming, it was too late to stop it. However, what she never wanted to do was make him believe she thought he was like Shaun. She knew that was not the case in her heart, mind, and soul. However, she knew, as the famous book and her therapist constantly reminded her, the body kept a different score, kept a laundry list of every beating, every humiliating and degrading moment. She may have pushed the memories out of her mind but every single one was still etched in her bones. And she could not force that out of herself, it would only take time.

She clenched her eyes shut for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry, Bakari. I-I never want you to feel like I think you’d hurt me or something. I know… I know that isn’t you.”

He shook his head. “Hey. Don’t apologize. I didn’t bring it up to blame you. Your past is part of you and I know it ain’t shit you can just turn on and off when it’s convenient. That’s why I want to know how I can help?”

Charlotte stood up, abandoning her cake to join him across the table, sitting on his lap. Her hand settled against his cheek, her fingers playing with his coarse facial hair.

“There is nothing you need to change, Michael. A-and I’m not just saying that. You’re everything I could hope for. And you treat me better than I could’ve dreamed for myself. I guess…” She paused. “I didn’t realize how hard it would be trying to be in a relationship again. I’m not afraid of you. But when you live in constant fear for so long, it sort of becomes part of you. It guided every decision, every choice, every action… every second of every day. And I think, sometimes, even though I know in my soul you aren’t him, that fear is still there in my bones. And when it hits, I don’t even realize it until it feels like I’m drowning in it. A-and I’m sorry for that because I know it’s not fair to you. I’m trying really, I promise.” She clenched her eyes shut for a moment, afraid of where this conversation might actually be headed. “B-But if it’s too much for you, I u-understand. I c-can’t expect you to stick around forever while I figure o-out my -”

“Love, stop. Breathe. That’s not what this is at all. I’m here until you get sick of me, baby girl.” He peppered her face with pecks causing her to laugh. “And don’t apologize to me cause I don’t need it or want it. I just want you to be ok and happy with me, not worried when some other shoe is gonna drop. If there’s nothing, great. But if there is, I just want to know it. We don’t gotta discuss it tonight. I have a whole surprise waiting for you downstairs. Ain’t tryin’ ruin it. But just promise me, if you ever feel like you do need something from me to feel safer o-or I’m doing something that makes you feel unsafe, promise me you’ll tell me.”

She pressed her lips to his. She appreciated that he was not shying away from her reality, that he was jumping in to address the hard things. She would not have blamed him if he wanted to end things but he was still here, still loving her and wanting to work through the kinks of their relationship. If he was willing to have hard conversations, she had to be willing too. She could not just will all of this away, she had to actively work on it.

“I promise.”

“Aight, good. Now we got the hard stuff outta the way, wanna follow me to the basement?”

“Are you gonna tell me what the surprise is? I thought you cooking for me and the food not killing me was the surprise?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. And nah, I’m beginning to think you really don’t know what surprise means.”

“I know what it means, I just like to be in the know.”

“Alright, close your eyes.”

“Bakari…” she whined.

“Just do it, Els. Damn, you never listen to a nigga,” he mumbled.

She winked at him before acquiescing to his wishes and closing her eyes.

One hand held onto hers while his free hand settled on her hip as he led her downstairs and around a corner to his movie room.

“Ok, open.”

She opened her eyes to find the room completely different from the last time she came down there. Giant cozy pillows and blankets draped like a tent covered the floor, a whole set up of popcorn and other snacks and two cocktail glasses waiting for them.

“I know you’re kind of a homebody so a more creative spin on dinner and a movie?” He offered with a shrug.

“You did all this??”

“Yea, I remember you mentioned once on set that you and your siblings used to have movie nights and make forts in your basement.”

She giggled as he led her to the perfectly constructed tent in his basement. He essentially turned his downstairs into a campground, with soft lightening and cushy blankets and pillows littering the floor around his flat screen tv.

“This is far better than any fort we made.”

It clearly had taken him and perhaps a team of people time to set it all up. It was beautiful. She leaned over and picked up a pack of gummy bears, her favorite. “You didn’t have to do all this for me,” she whispered. “It’s too much.”

Michael shook his head. “Nothing is ever too much for you. Besides, press tour is in what, two weeks? We’re gonna be busy so we gotta enjoy the time together while we can.”

Michael went to the bar to pull out a pitcher of mojitos before he got situated in their fort next to her.

“Not gonna lie. I’m kinda looking forward to it. It’ll be my first real press tour.”

“I’m about to be all your work firsts, then?”

Charlotte nodded as she took a sip of the cocktail Michael made for her.

“Yea and some personal ones, I’m sure,” she muttered under her breath, thinking back to the conversation with her friends.

“What’s that mean?”

She let out a nervous laugh and shook her head. “Nothing, nothing at all.” She turned the gummy bears toward him, allowing him to take a handful before she snuggled into his side.

The pair snuggled and joked as they watched Bad Boys, a movie that made it onto both of their top five movies lists. Their banter carried them through most of the film, the pair analyzing and offering their two cents as if they were experts on thwarting criminals. The pair made their way through an obscene amount of snacks and a pitcher of mojitos as they watched the first movie and its sequel.

“Those drinks were so good,” she muttered as she examined the now-empty pitcher, a small pout on her features. “If this whole acting thing doesn’t work out, you could be a bartender for sure.”

Michael laughed and rubbed her thigh. “You wanna just crash here? You shouldn’t drive home after all that. And it’s already late as hell,” he remarked, glancing at his watch to find it was almost 1 am.

She shrugged and winked at him. “Jokes on you… that was alllllll part of the plan. Your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

“Damn, you just usin’ a nigga for a comfortable bed??”

“Not just the bed… Comfortable bed, free meals, cuddly oversized sweatshirts,” she listed on her fingers with a sly smile.

“You know I’m good for other things too,” he whispered with a smirk on his face, his fingers drawing featherlike patterns on her exposed thigh that sent chills down her spine. She knew exactly what he was suggesting and she did not know if it was the liquor or just the overall effect he had on her body, but she wanted to know what those things were. She wanted more. More of him, more of his touch, more of his love. And she did not want to wait a single moment longer.

And she did not want the night to end, their last true moment of solitude before life picked up again. They would be traveling and exhausted for a month. Though she was excited to spend her first press run with him, she knew it would not be true alone time. It would be work and since they were not a public couple yet, they would have to exercise some discretion.

She threw caution to the wind and straddled his hips, ignoring his surprised look as she took charge of the moment. She kissed him before nibbling on his ear and whispering, “Why don’t you show me?”

Usually, those words would have had Michael ripping a woman’s clothes off within milliseconds. However, despite the lust coursing through him, he forced himself to pause and confirm her wishes. Once he knew Charlotte wanted to take it slow, he always made sure to pump the brakes before things got too hot and heavy between them. No matter how hard it was - and it was excruciatingly hard - it was one of his many attempts to show Charlotte that he understood and respected her boundaries and subtly remind her she had agency in their relationship. He never wanted her to feel pressured to do something she did not want to do because she was conditioned never to say no. He wanted her to know she was steering the ship and he was fine with whatever speed she chose.

Admittedly, this was the longest he ever waited for a woman to sleep with him. They were well into month three and had not progressed past heated make out sessions. However, Michael, honestly, did not mind. He longed to bury himself inside her, to taste her, to show her pleasure she had never known before. But he knew it would be more enjoyable for both of them if she was truly ready for it.

Michael’s eyes grew wide with surprise as her statement settled in his brain matter. He leaned back over her, his soft hand cupped her cheek and held her eyes to his.

“You sure? We don’t gotta do anything you aren’t ready for, Els. And we been drinkin’ and shit. I’ll wait as long as you want, love.”

Charlotte offered him a soft smile. “I know. And it’s very sweet and it makes me love you even more if that’s even fucking possible,” she let out a nervous laugh. “I trust you a-and I want you. That’s all I need. So I am very ready for you to break my back like you promised.”

Michael chuckled and kissed her on the neck softly.

“You sure?”

Charlotte knew she would not find the words to describe how desperately she needed him. It was no longer a want that could be diminished by her anxieties and fears, it was a need. A need that felt as fundamental to her survival as oxygen to her lungs and sustenance to her body. His willingness to take it slow and respect her boundaries, the ways he went out of his way to make her feel safe and desired daily only increased her lust. So she decided to show him through action.

“Yes…” she reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it over her shoulders, thankful she decided to wear a matching bra and panty set. She had no intention, originally, of their date night taking this specific turn but she was grateful nonetheless. She felt empowered and assured in her decision as she watched his reaction, pure lust and desire taking over his features.

He licked his lips before he captured hers again. She moaned as his hands enjoyed free reign of her body, softly kneading and gripping her ass and thighs. She could feel the desire pooling between her legs, the movie playing on the tv long forgotten. She did not stop him as he flipped her onto her back, his chest pressed against hers as he sucked on the soft skin of her neck.

Michael took his time as he kissed her, paying close attention to every moan and groan, his ears perking up when he hit a sweet spot. He wanted to know every intricacy of what she liked and just how she liked it. His path of kisses and gentle nips down her body was deliberate and slow, he savored how her whimpers became needier as he went. But he did not speed up. He was determined, desired to see her come undone piece by piece, and that was a process he could not rush.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as his lips lingered against one of her scars, knowing they made her insecure about her appearance.

By the time he reached her lower stomach, her whimpers had turned to pants of need. Charlotte had never experienced foreplay like this before. She did not understand how he was already so attentive, the way he seemed to immediately respond to her body, picking up on cues Charlotte would not have been able to articulate herself. If her body was an instrument, Michael seemed to already be a savant, hitting the right notes with every caress and touch. It was a slow march and Charlotte was feigning for the main event, feigning for him to fill her.

Michael finally detached his lips from her body and made quick work of removing her thong.

“All this for me?” He whispered as he licked his lips as he admired the wetness between her thighs.

He spread her legs and licked his lips before kissing her inner thighs. Charlotte almost saw God when he added in a gentle bite, sending sparks of pleasure through her. With every passing second, his lips got closer and closer to the treasure between her thighs, a coveted meal Michael had been waiting months to taste.

However, realizing his intention, Charlotte immediately felt the first wave of anxiety and insecurity hit her, pulling her out of the moment and mind-numbing fog of pleasure.

“W-what are you doing?” She breathed out, stopping his path toward her core.

“About to get a taste,” he muttered as he continued kissing her inner thighs.

Charlotte squirmed for a moment before quietly offering. “Y-You don’t have to do that… if you don’t want to.”

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. There was literally nothing he wanted more in this world at this moment. “I definitely want to. What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just never…” She scratched her forehead and kept her eyes trained on the ceiling. It was embarrassing and she did not really want to say it out loud. Similar to her lack of an orgasm, she had also never revealed to anyone that her sexual experience was severely lacking in terms of receiving pleasure. Giving? She was good at it and enjoyed it occasionally. But she had always been the giver and now could not even fathom what receiving felt like. She knew, based on conversations with her girlfriends, that she was missing something spectacular and life changing. But the mental block was there and she found it hard to want it. “Never mind, it’s embarrassing.”

Michael chuckled. “Aint shit to be embarrassed about with me, baby.” He kissed her softly on the lips.

“No one’s ever given me…”

Her words died in her throat but Michael did not need her to finish the sentence. He knew exactly what she was trying to say and shocked was an understatement. He had jerked himself off more times than he would ever admit dreaming of her paradise, what she tasted like, and what sounds she would make when he finally found himself in that promised land. And to think that no one had ever taken the time or care to give her that pleasure angered him more than it should have. He supposed he should be happy he was the first one to give her that experience but he hated that her sex life prior to him had been so lacking.

“You trust me?”

She nodded immediately. “Of course.”

“Ok, then just lay back and relax for me, aight? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. But I don’t think you’re gonna want me to stop.” He offered her a knowing wink.

Michael was not a man who begrudgingly engaged in foreplay simply because it was required. The build up was his favorite part of the experience, knowing he was giving his partner exactly what they needed and wanted, worshiping her body like the queen she was. He would bask in every moment of proving to her that he wanted to do this task more than anything else.

“Always so cocky,” she muttered with a smile.

“And you love that shit,” he shot back as they traded playful jabs. “Now relax… and let me take care of you.”

Michael’s hands pushed open Charlotte’s legs, her pussy glistening with need.

Not wanting to waste another second, he leaned in and enveloped her clit into his mouth, sucking gently.

Charlotte let out a deep moan, a moan so visceral and carnal, she did not even know she could produce such a sound. But she didn't even know her body could feel pleasure like this and he was only just getting started.

It seemed Michael was right about one thing, she most certainly did not want him to stop.

Michael poured his whole soul into his ministrations, pulling out every trick he knew to send Charlotte over the edge. He licked and sucked, spelling out all his love and adoration with every caress of his tongue. He savored every moan and groan, every plea for him to go faster.

“Fuck… B-Bakari… p-please don’t stop.”

Unnecessary directions, in his opinion, he could do this all night.

Charlotte’s eyes clenched shut as she grabbed one of the plush pillows on the floor and moaned into it, suddenly remembering that Michael’s parents lived with him.

“Put the pillow down,” he emerged from her legs to demand. “Room’s soundproof, I promise. I wanna hear you.”

She immediately tossed it to the side as she rode the waves of pure passion and ecstasy his mouth provided. She was not sure where to concentrate as every pleasure sensor in her body felt like it was on fire. She was overwhelmed and yet, she wanted more. She wanted to drown in it, drown in this feeling that seemed to never end. Every time, she felt as if she must be reaching its peak, he pushed her higher and higher.

His eyes never left her face as he devoured what would now be classified as his favorite meal. The moment she came, he wanted to see it. Every sound she made only spurred him on as he inched her closer and closer to her mountain top.

Charlotte felt her world go dark, everything in her snapped as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She felt as if she was in fog, Michael’s voice distant and quiet as she experienced her first orgasm. She felt as if he had just altered the course of her life at that moment. She wondered if this was what rebirth felt like and how she had ever lived without this unfiltered… bliss. She let out a stream of curse words as she rode out her orgasm, Michael offering her praise that she could barely register.

“That’s it, Els. Cum for me.”

He emerged from between her legs and kissed her, allowing her to taste herself.

“You taste so good, baby. So sweet,” he offered as he gave her a few moments to settle down. .

“T-that was…” She struggled to find the words as her already slightly hoarse voice filled the space.

“You liked that, baby?” He asked, his deep voice sending jolts of pleasure down her body. His finger entered her, immediately curling into her g-spot causing her to gasp.

This man… was going to be the death of her, she decided.

“Y-Yes,” she whispered.

“You want more, Els?”

She nodded fervently. Michael pushed himself off the floor and quickly stripped down, his manhood standing at attention for the woman he loved.

Her breath hitched slightly as she took in his length and girth. He settled himself between her legs before starting to push inside her.

She let out a groan of pain that made him pause, his eyes immediately filling with concern. He started to pull out when she wrapped her legs around his hips to stop him.

“N-No, don’t. I-it’s just been a couple years. That’s all. I’m good, promise.”

His forehead fell against hers as he slowly pushed inside her. His eyes did not leave hers, pausing his movements every time he saw an iota of discomfort or pain on her face. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, professed his love and adoration for her, told her how good she felt around him as he waited for her to adjust.

And once she gave him the ok, he started his slow and steady strokes into her.

“You feel so fucking good, baby” he muttered as the soft slapping sounds of their hips meeting filled his basement.

His dick curved right into her g-spot, forcing words of adoration and love from the depths of her soul at the end of every stroke. Her soft pants morphed into moans and screams of pleasure as she felt jolts of pleasure throughout her body.

“F-fuck, I l-love you,” she panted out. “Harder,” she demanded, Michel more than happy to oblige.

He increased his pace, relentlessly fucking her. She was thankful this portion of the house was soundproof, his basement soaking up the loud symphony of their collective moans. .

She could feel all of the love and adoration he held for her in every stroke, every affirmation he whispered into her ear as he sent her soul to another plane. All she could do was pant and cry out in pleasure as he promised to love her until his last day.

Michael’s physical fitness and stamina meant that they were just getting started. Michael and Charlotte moved around his basement, fucking on any and all surfaces that they saw fit. He transitioned between positions like an experienced dancer and pulled countless orgasms from the depth of her soul.

“Fuck. Just like that baby. Ride this dick,” he moaned. He let out a low growl as she rode him, he was in heaven as he buried his face in her chest, his mouth enveloping her nipple. He was surprised at how much she responded to it, her head falling back in pleasure, her mouth agape. She cried out in pleasure as he gently bit down on the swell of her breasts. He switched between the two, making sure to give each equal attention.

“You look so sexy riding my dick,” he praised her, causing her to increase her pace.

She ignored the burn in her thighs as she continued, her thoughts only focused on giving him the same pleasure he gave her. She loved this position. It made her feel emboldened and in charge. And so she decided to enjoy that feeling and switch it up, giving him another view to enjoy. She slid off of him, both of them groaning lightly at the feeling of emptiness while she repositioned herself in reverse cow girl and slid back onto his dick.

Michael smirked at the satisfied moan that escaped her lips as he filled her again. He grabbed her hips, thrusting into her rapidly as he enjoyed the view of her ass bouncing against his hips. He had let her control the pace before but now? It was his turn again. She yelped lightly as his hand spanked her. It was unexpected but not too rough, clearly to test the waters. She moaned, letting him know that she enjoyed it, the edge of roughness and small jolts of pain mixed in with his gentle touches.

“You like that, baby?” He asked as he spanked her again, his strong arms lifting her body up and down as if she weighed nothing.

“Y-Yes! I love it,” She panted out, breathless and exhausted as he fucked her. “I’m g-gonna cum!”

Her hands pressed against his stomach to hold herself up as she rode the length of her orgasm, her body barely staying up right. When she calmed down, he lifted her off of him and instructed her to get on all fours.

He positioned himself behind her and massaged her ass for a moment, admiring the perfect view.

“Arch your back for me, baby. That’s it, good girl.”

Charlotte could’ve cum right then, hearing him praise her.

Good girl, she wanted to hear that every day for the rest of her life.

She groaned as he entered her again, this position allowing him to get even deeper than before. Charlotte’s screams grew to new heights as he fucked her senseless from behind, taking her directive to break her back extremely serious. She was thankful that the strength of his thrusts naturally buried her face in the pillows of their now destroyed fort; she did not think even a soundproof room could contain her at this point.

In this moment, she realized exactly what Jazz meant: this was life-changing and fun. For the first time, she was not waiting for it to all be over, she was enjoying it, actively meeting his thrusts to increase her pleasure. And when his fingers dug into her hips to hammer into her at his own pace, like a man possessed, she was more than willing to surrender her entire being to him and let him give her exactly what he believed she needed. Because he actually knew, every action was meticulous and measured, attuned to needs she did not even know she had. But he did and she loved him for it. So she surrendered, surrendered to bliss, knew she would forever happily hand over the reins of her pleasure to him because she desperately wanted what he had to give.

“Why you running, baby?” He asked as he fucked her, her body instinctively shying away from the intense pleasure of another orgasm building too fast.

“I-I… I-it’s too much…” she breathed out, unable to form coherent sentences.

“You want me to stop?” He asked as he continued fucking relentlessly.

“N-no,” she whimpered, and it was true. Her body felt as if it may die if he stopped but also that another orgasm might kill her. In a split second decision, dying from pleasure seemed like the better way to go.

“Good girl. You’re taking me so well, love. Cum for me one more time, baby.”

As he felt her pussy snapping around his dick and her screams grew louder, he knew she was close. He reached around and rubbed her clit to give her the extra push she needed.

Charlotte let out a breathless scream, her vision going black as the most powerful orgasm of her life ran through her. She didn't even get to feel him cum inside her as he finally reached his own peak.

When she finally opened her eyes again, Michael was sitting watching her intently.

“Welcome back, almost had me worried for a minute. You ok?”

All she could do was nod, not understanding how he looked completely unruffled while she felt as if she had done a triathlon.

He held out his hand to help her up and slide his robe around her. She was surprised to find him already in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

“H-How long was I out?”

He laughed, kissing the top of her head. “Just a couple minutes. Come on, I’ll start a bath upstairs.”

She groaned as she tried to move her legs. “M-My legs don’t work, babe. N-Not gonna make it upstairs.”

He laughed and swooped her up into his arms. “Good thing you have me then.”

Charlotte snuggled into his chest as he carried her to his suite. He made quick work of filling the tub with hot water and helping her into the tub, the smell of eucalyptus, her favorite, filling her nose.

“This is sweet,” she said, her voice raspy from their activities. “T-thank you.” She settled into the bathtub, her head lulling back as her eyes fell closed. The warm water felt like heaven on her aching muscles.

“You feel ok? Was afraid I was too rough at the end?”

She let her head fall lazily in his direction, a content smile on her face. “No, it was great. Though I think you might've thought I was a gymnast at one point, really pushed the limits of my flexibility. And I now feel like I need to go to yoga classes so I don’t need to soak my muscles every time we have sex,” she laughed. “But it was perfect. You’re perfect.”

They shared a sweet kiss before silence fell over them. Charlotte did not stay in the tub long, her desire to be in Michael’s arms again overwhelming. Once she was done, Michael gave her clothes to throw on and they climbed into bed.

Michael’s head rested on her chest, both of them muttering soft I love you’s before they drifted off to sleep.

***

“Charlie!”

Charlotte's eyes gravitated toward a familiar voice, finally landing on Chris who had commandeered a corner booth toward the back and was waving at her.

“How are you??” Her voice took on a sing-songy tone as she hugged him before sitting across from him. “It’s been way too fucking long.”

“I know, I know. It’s tough. I’m rarely out here and you’re never in NYC anymore.” His voice was filled with teasing accusations as he referenced her disappearing act. “But I’m glad you were able to fit me in.”

The pair spent over a half hour catching up, Chris sharing gossip from the NYC theater scene that Charlotte was no longer in touch with. She considered Chris MacDonald to be one of her closest friends. He had been her mentor when she was at a school, he was a recent graduate working on his musical and worked with students in his free time. He was easily the most talented songwriter she had ever heard, his first musical becoming a staple on Broadway within months. Every song he touched turned to gold and money. They transcended the usual mentor-mentee relationship quickly, becoming good friends. Chris always vowed to make her his leading lady in one of his shows one day.

“So what are the next few months looking like for you?”

“We’re starting press for Creed out here next week. Then the premieres here and press and a premiere in Philly. We have a couple of events and things once it hits theaters and then I should get a break right before Christmas. Thankfully, since it is the first one, the press schedule isn’t insane. But it's still a lot.”

“So I gotta know, do you miss the stage at all?”

“All the time,” Charlotte moaned, her shoulders collapsing a bit. Chris was the type of person who knew the answer to his question before he asked it. So she knew there was no use in lying. “All. The. Time.” She emphasized. “Movies are great, don’t get me wrong. Can’t say anything too bad about them, after all, my first major film led me to Michael. Who you have to meet by the way. But it’s just not the same. It doesn’t… make my soul happy the way theater did? Money’s better,” Chris immediately nodded in agreement. “But that’s about it. Just doesn’t really fulfill me the same way.”

“Would you want to go back?”

An antenna in Charlotte’s mind went up as she heard his tone, his voice taking on the tenor of someone who was dipping a toe in to test the waters.

“Ummm yea, I mean I’d love to go back. But… the practicalities of it. Just don’t think it is in the cards for me.” She shook her head gently and picked up her coffee. The mug hid the sad smile she had on her face, a realization that her choices meant her dreams weren’t a possibility anymore. “Besides, there isn’t a theater director who knows my name who’d give me another chance.” She simply shrugged. “It’s cool though. My life’s out here now, new relationship’s out here, friends, family. It’s better this way.”

Chris nodded. “What if you were looking at a writer and producer who wanted you to be in their next show?”

Charlotte laughed, “Very funny, Chris.” She had heard about his next project through the grapevine, which just completed an off-Broadway run in Massachusetts and was picked up to perform on Broadway in the new year. His musical, The Lighthouse, followed the closing shift of a dive bar during a winter’s storm. It was one of those shows where the entire play takes place in a singular room, following four characters, the owner of the bar and his wife, and the main character, Ashley, and her ex, who is a bartender. Charlotte had only read reviews of it but every review praised Chris for his poignant examination of relationships, human connection, and the innate desire to fight for the things and one you love, even when the fight seems foolish and you are outnumbered.

“I’m being dead serious, Charlie. I know you’re about to start promo for the film so you wouldn’t get that break you’re looking forward to. But it premieres on Broadway in March. We are casting new folks since the off broadway cast is transitioning to other roles. And for the lead, I started with your name but didn’t think you’d want to come back. And after scouring my brain for months and chatting with other writers like Lin and all roads lead back to you. You’re perfect for it. Your voice, your skills… you would knock it out of the park.”

Charlotte shook her head, “Oh Chris… thank you but I can’t. It’s just not for me anymore.”

“The stage was made for you, girl. Look, I wasn’t trying to come here and beg you but I will if I have to. I want you, Charlie. Not some random girl no one has ever heard of… You, the woman who made me cry the first time I heard her sing, the woman with perfect pitch, a woman who's been through shit and knows how to bring that pain and vulnerability and channel it into a performance. Look, I could get any recent graduate from Juilliard or Yale and throw them in this show and it would be good. But I don’t want ‘good’. I want excellent and you are excellence. Just give me a year. One year. Not even a year,” he corrected himself as she shook her head. “Six months. Six months and you’ll be nominated for a Tony in 2017, maybe even 2016 depending on when they cut off the season. ”

At the sound of the coveted award Charlotte had dreamed of her entire life, Charlotte perked up. “How do you know it’s Tony worthy?”

“Because I wouldn’t have flown across the country to grovel at the feet of one of the greatest actresses and singers I’ve ever seen for anything less than a Tony-winning role. Six months to a year, max. Give me six months of your life, Charlie and I swear - you’re Grammy and Tony nominated at worst… two steps closer to an EGOT at best. Come on, don’t tell me you forgot? This was on the vision board you showed me when you were a plucky, annoying freshman. This is it, this is the opportunity to make that vision board come true.”

Just as Charlotte opened her mouth to rebut him, he stopped her. “Look, I gotta jet to another meeting. But don’t say no just yet, please? I promised the team I would have my Ashley by the time I got back home on Monday. I’ll send you the tracks, the video of the workshop, talk it over… pray on it, and get back to me in a few days. Just promise me you’ll think about it, Charlie. Please?”

Charlotte nodded weakly. “Fine… I’ll think about it.”

She knew logically there was nothing to think about. The mere idea went beyond playing with fire, it was playing with a raging inferno to move back there. For all she knew, Shaun was a mere powder keg waiting for the right spark to explode and she would be handing it to him on a silver platter. However, her soul and her ambition, well those parts of her were thinking… and they were thinking hard.

She said her goodbyes to Chris and paid for her coffee. And before she could even make it outside to her car, she heard the ding of several emails, all from Chris with the music tracks. She slid into her car and hooked it up as she drove to Michael’s. Since they broke through the physical intimacy barrier, she essentially lived at his place. After spending almost every night there, he cleared out a drawer and gave her space in his closet. Now she rarely went to her own spot.

Since his house was a bit farther out, she made it through Act 1 of the show before she pulled into his driveway. However, she did not immediately turn it off to get out of the car. She was so enthralled that she just sat there in his driveway with her eyes closed, falling deeper in love with the music with every passing chord.

“That fucking bastard,” she muttered to herself as her head thudded back against the seat. “The great Chris MacDonald strikes again.”

It was always a running joke among the Broadway community that no one ever said no to Chris. If he wanted you, he would always find a way to convince you to work for him. Whether it was the strength of the piece itself or his persuasive abilities, no was not a word he heard.

And she hated that it was working on her. This was award worthy. It was more than that, it was a game changer. It would take more than a year to pick up steam but when it did, it would become a household name. She could feel it in her bones. And the main character, Ashley, was perfect for her. Her ballad, which closed out Act I, was giving Defying Gravity levels of emotion. It was climatic and she could just picture herself singing it on stage. And while the show was filled with drama and emotion, it struck the perfect balance of being funny and relatable. It was the type of show you left and talked about for hours with your friends, examining each character and their decisions with a fine tooth comb.

She sat in her car and typed out notes on her phone as she worked her way through Act II, noting things she picked up on and wanted to discuss further with Chris. She did not even realize how long she sat out there until she heard a knock on her car window.

“Shit!” She jumped almost clean out of her skin as she turned to find Michael staring at her with a quizzical look on his face. She took a deep breath before opening the door. “You scared me.”

“My bad. I saw you pull up 30 minutes ago. Wanted to make sure you were good. You on the phone or somethin’?”

“30 minutes?? Sorry, baby. I was just listening to these songs Chris sent me.”

She pulled herself and her bag out of the car and followed Michael into the house. The house smelled delicious, Michael immediately returning to the oven to check on his Bolognese sauce.

“How was coffee?”

“Um… intriguing, that’s for sure.” Charlotte threw her bag down on one of the bar stools and immediately grabbed the loaf of bread and other materials that were sitting out to help Michael finish dinner.

“Ok, elaborate.”

Charlotte sighed. “Well, it wasn’t a friendly catch up like I thought. He has a role for me… in his new show.”

“Ok… and?”

“It’s really fuckin’ good, Bakari. Like game changing good. Like household name good. He said he just wanted six months out of me, which is more than enough to be nominated this year or next.”

Michael nodded. “Ok… I’m hearing all the good things… sounds like good shit. But you’re hesitating. What’s stopping you?”

She turned to face him, leaning against the counter. “Well first, my life is here with you. Not in New York. We’ve only been dating for three months. I don’t want to lose what we have.” Michael glanced at her, waiting for her to say more. “A-and I left New York in such a weird way. I don’t even know how people feel about me now. A-and 8 shows a week??” She ranted, taking her frustration out on the helpless loaf of Italian bread in front of her. “Don’t even know if I can physically do that shit anymore. I’m not that good of a dancer… I mean when would we have time to see each other if I’m doing 8 shows a week? I could kiss my current career goodbye. I feel like I started down this road, don’t know if I should backtrack?”

Michael turned her away from the cutting board and took the knife out of her hands. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her closer and closer to him.

“What’s really wrong, Els? Cause it ain’t any of the dumb shit you just mentioned.”

Charlotte immediately felt offended, her body attempting and failing to twist out of his firm but still gentle grip. “Excuse me?? Those are legit concerns, thank you very much.”

“No they aren’t. You’re never gonna lose me cause you’re pursuing a dream. New York is a plane ride away, I’ll come to you when I’m not filming. Long distance relationships work and thrive every day, Els.” He started to list off, dismissing her concerns one by one. “You left to save your life. Fuck anyone who doesn’t understand that or sympathize with that shit. Besides, who even gives a fuck what they think? You got Chris in your corner and more people than you think, that’s enough. You can dance just fine. And you run like 6 miles every single day so physically, you can do anything including sing and dance for 2 hrs 8 times a week. And it’s not backtracking. You started in the theater, took a break and are going back. People do that shit literally all the time. I think you’re scared. And if you want to say no for all those practical reasons to Chris, fine. But at least be honest with me. Why are you really hesitating?”

She picked at her nails, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip. She hated that she had to consider him, this dark cloud that hung over her head and still indirectly affected her decisions. She hated that he still had this much power

“I left New York for a reason, Bakari. A-and that reason is still walking and talking and… I don’t think I can ignore that just because Chris dangles a shiny Tony in front of my face.”

“Do you really think he’d try something?”

“I… I dunno. But I also don’t know if I want to test that theory. I gave it all up then because I couldn’t stay alive and keep it. I tried that and it didn’t work. All I got was a break in and three days in the ER. How’s this time gonna be any different? Seems dumb to walk right back into the lion’s den.”

“Are you walking back into the lion’s den or following your dreams? Was he a Broadway enthusiast or somethin?”

Charlotte let out a humorless laugh. “Hell no. He hated musicals… and joy… and laughter… and me,” she added under her breath with a humorless chuckle. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because who's to say he will even know you’re there? Even in the most popular shows, the everyday person doesn’t follow news about it. And this is a new show, not like that rap one everyone I know keeps going to see about the dead white people?”

“Hamilton?” Her judgment of his lack of theater knowledge showed in her laughter.. “‘That musical with the dead white people’” she chuckled. “It’s the hottest ticket of the year, babe.”

“See,” he emphasized, ignoring the tone of shade in her voice. “I’m an actor and still don’t know this shit.”

“Bakari… be serious, please.”

“I am!” He laughed. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is even the most popular shows, the non-broadway goer doesn’t know whose in them. You’re a rising star and the benefit of a rising star is that you can still keep a low profile when you want. For all that nigga knows, you’re still in LA. Talk to Chris about promo and maybe keeping a lower profile for the first couple months and all that and secure your dream, babe.”

“But I already proved I can’t have both, Bakari,” she repeated.

He shook his head. “No, you couldn’t have both then. It’s been a couple years, you’re different. And who knows, that nigga could’ve moved to another state or be in a new relationship or anything. A lot can change in two years, right?”

She scratched her head. The things Michael said made total sense but there was still this wall standing in her way.

“Els, baby. Look at me.” His finger lifted her chin to look him in the eye. “I think you should do it. It’s six months until you come back here. Ever since I’ve known you, being the lead of a show has been your dream. And you miss it. And now someone is handing you the opportunity on a silver platter. Why miss it a second time? And if it makes you feel safer, I’ll move with you.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Baby, I can’t ask you to move across the country for me. Your family, your friends… your life is here.”

He shrugged. “And in six months, my life will still be here. My future is wherever you are. And I told you a couple weeks ago that I’d do whatever you needed to make you feel safe.”

“Yes, with you. Not out in the world. I can’t ask you to upend your entire life for me. We haven’t been together that long.”

“Semantics. I told you I’d do whatever you needed. This counts in my book. Don’t think about the length of time we’ve been together or where it is or any of that shit. Would it help and make you feel more comfortable if I went with you? At least for a couple months?”

Charlotte studied him for a moment, realizing he was truly being sincere. She found it hard to ask for such a thing but she could not deny that it would help her. Even just knowing that she could come home to someone each night and be safe in their arms felt like it would change everything.

“Y-Yea, it would help a lot. But you really don’t have to, babe.”

“Ok then it’s settled. If you take it, I’ll go with you. I know we’re jumping ahead and skipping some steps but I’m in if you are.”

“You don’t want to think about it?”

He shrugged as he moved to put the garlic bread in the oven. “What’s there to think about? It’s like moving for a role. It doesn’t really change much. When would you have to be there?”

“Top of January, the show is supposed to premiere on March 1.”

He nodded. “Ok so if you decide to do it, we can move right after Christmas to make sure you’re there in time.”

Charlotte chuckled. “Yea while you’re planning our move, I actually need to decide whether to do it.”

Michael leaned down and kissed her on the lips. “I’m removing obstacles so you can make the best decision for you. Not for me or because of that nigga. For you. If you want this, we’ll do whatever we gotta do to make sure you’re safe while you do it, ok?”

Her arms went around his shoulders, their bodies flush against each other. “How’d I get so lucky to find you?”

“I’m the lucky one, honeybee.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, “Honeybee? That’s a new one. Where’d that come from?”

“Cause you taste sweet, like honey.”

“‘I taste sweet, what do- ohhhhh,” the memory of him saying that during the first time he gave her head came back to her mind causing her to laugh a bit. “Thought I’d try it out. It has a cute ring to it. You don’t like it?”

“I like any nickname you give me, love. But… let’s make this the only one inspired by our sex life, ok?”

“Deal.”

The pair ate dinner before retreating to his bedroom. They did not talk about Chris’s offer again until they were settled in bed, Charlotte laying on Michael’s chest.

“I think… I think I want to do it. You’re right, it’s my dream and I might not get another shot like this again,” she offered in the quiet and darkness. She knew he was not asleep yet.

Michael did not even take a beat before he responded, “I guess we’re moving to New York then.”

Charlotte sat up, leaning on his chest. “You knew I was gonna take it the whole evening didn’t you?”

He shrugged, before shifting so she was laying back down. He placed a kiss on the top of her forehead and merely smiled. “Yea… when are you gonna learn? I’m always right, baby,” he joked. "You gonna call Chris?

She bit down the joke that bubbled to the surface and merely settled back into his arms with a smile.

“Yes you are, baby. And in the morning, it's after midnight."

"Yea and you said he flew all the way out here for you. That man is probably waiting by the phone for you. Call him, if he's asleep, you can try again in the morning. Besides, knowing you, you'll find some way to talk yourself out of it by morning." He reached over to her side and grabbed her phone. "Call him, babe."

"Touché." She slid out of his bed and paced, one hand fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt she had on while her feet dragged across his soft plush carpet.

She waited for a few moments with bated breath until she heard his voice fill her ears.

"Hey, Chris! Sorry if this is too late to call? Hope I didn't wake you."

"Oh no, I was just up working and praying your name would cross my phone sometime before the night was over. Please tell me you called me this late with bad news."

Charlotte chuckled and glanced at Michael who gave her an encouraging smile and thumbs up.

"No, no. Just calling to tell you that you can tell the team you found your new Ashley."

She had to hold the phone away from her ear as his screams of delight threatened to bust her ear drums.

"God, I fucking love you, Charlotte Bennett. I could literally kiss you."

"I think my boyfriend would have something to say about that," she chuckled. "But yea I'm in."

"Amazing. I'll send over details to you and your team tomorrow and we can talk more then. Seriously, Charlie, you won't regret it. I promise."

"I know, thank you, Chris. Seriously. Ok, talk tomorrow. Bye."

She hung up the phone and turned to Michael, the realization hitting her.

"I'm gonna be leading a show on Broadway." She ran back to the bed and jumped on it, her previous exhaustion long forgotten as her excitement took over.

Michael enveloped her in a tight hug before they both settled back into bed.

"This is gonna be good, Els. I can feel it."

She placed a quick kiss on his bare chest. "I feel it too. Thank you. I wouldn't feel comfortable doing this without you."

"I gotchu, Els. Always."

Tags: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings

A/N: As always, thanks for reading! We finally got some smut (woohoo). Tbh smut is like really hard for me to write lol so I hope y'all liked it? I really wanted it to be intimate and showcase how close they've gotten in a short time. They could be sexy and honest and vulnerable and playful with each other and it not ruin the moment, it only enhances it for them. Next chapter, we'll get some fluff with their first public outing as a couple and press tour cuteness (think Tom/Zendaya and Corey/India from Queen Charlotte level cuteness). I'm gonna try to get a one-shot out this week too before I'm off on vacation. We'll see if I can actually get it done :)

Leave a comment on what you thought of the chapter and let me know if you want to be tagged!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut

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