#THEY REALLY DID JUST START A CULT HELP ME | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

incognit0slut · 10 months

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Lose Control

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival. Based on:

warning: 18+ explicit content including oral (both), hair-pulling, chocking, and unprotected, semi-public, hate sex

words: 6.8k (I'm a smut-with-a-plot kind of person)

a/n: this is not enemies to lovers. This is, quite frankly, enemies to (fuckable) enemies. Also, we hit 1.2k followers!! Tysm!! I legit made this blog 2 months ago that’s crazyyy😳

MASTERLIST

“…mind games until you lose control…”

CHANGE WAS INEVITABLE WHEN IT CAME TO HIS WORK. Spencer encountered many great people walking through the door of the bureau throughout the years he worked as a profiler. Most of them he genuinely liked, and most of them he considered more than mere colleagues. But from all the people he had to work with, there was one person he really couldn't stand.

"Move out of the way, Reid, you're blocking the way."

He turned to see the last person he wanted to indulge in standing close to him, a hand on her hip and a frown on her face. "There is literally enough space for you to pass through."

"And jeopardize myself by touching you?" She wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll pass."

His gaze, usually warm and welcoming, hardened into a steely resolve. It pierced through her like an icy dagger, radiating an unmistakable contempt. He then backed away, walking further into the room that held rows of shelving units lining up the space. "What are you even doing here?"

"Well, ever since we found the victim's body surrounded by those cryptic signs, it reminded me of the cult massacre which happened in—"

"St. Joseph, 1947," he finished.

"Yeah, although this isn't mass murder, I thought the nature of the death was very similar to that old case." He could practically hear the smugness in her voice as she continued, "I also knew you'd be here and wanted to beat you to it."

His gaze settled on her standing by the door. "I don't think that's going according to plan considering I was here before you arrived."

"Please, you just got here. I bet I can find the files before you do."

His brows furrowed. How could he not feel some kind of disdain when she was acting the way she was? One might say he was acting too immature for his age, for a man who was close to pushing forty he did consider himself too old for petty fights. But it was hard to keep his composure when she was often the one taunting him, ridiculing him with that haughty mouth of hers.

It was better to ignore her presence completely, so he did just that, focusing his attention on the files in front of him as she stepped into the room.

She frowned, feeling her throat clenching before coughing out loud as dust particles greeted her entrance. She was busy trying to swat the specks of dust away from her face when something solid suddenly nudged her feet. Her eyes swept towards the floor.

"Why is this massive book laying here?" She picked up the thick paperback and read its title. "The Anatomy of Motive?"

Spencer's head snapped in an alert. "Wait! Don't—"

But it was too late. The old wooden door hanging loosely on its rusted hinges creaked without any support to keep it ajar, and with a resounding thud, it closed, the sound echoing through the stagnant air. "I put that there for a reason," he grumbled. "And now we're stuck here."

She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around the handle, trying to yank the door open. The panic on her face was evident when it didn't budge. "Shit."

"You can only open it from the other side."

She turned towards him. "Do you have your phone with you?"

"No."

She groaned because her own device was also securely tucked in her bag. Not wanting to be locked in a room with the last person she wanted to be with, she started pounding on the door frantically. "Help! Penelope! Luke!" Bang. Bang. "Anyone!"

"Nobody's going to hear you."

She tuned him out.

"Emily! JJ!" She pressed herself against the door, drawing her mouth close towards the tiny gap between the wooden panel and the wall. "Help! We're locked in!" She suddenly caught his movement from the corner of her eyes and turned to him, noticing the way he was already studying a file.

"What are you doing?"

He slipped back the document into the cabinet and went through the other folders. "Might as well work until they realize we're gone."

She straightened herself and glanced at the watch around her wrist. "But it's late. What if everyone's gone home and we're stuck here for the night?" A thought struck her and she looked up in horror. "Or for days?"

"Then you have yourself to blame."

She glared at him. "You're not helping."

Spencer looked up to see her jaw clenching, accentuating the sharp angles of her face. Her normally composed features, so delicately balanced, now seemed to unravel in a heat of fury. It was the only expression she held every time she had to deal with him.

He glanced away and focused back on his task. "Don't worry, we have a team of competent profilers. If they can find dangerous criminals throughout the country, they can also find their two missing agents."

She considered his words and acknowledged the truth behind them, so she reluctantly moved to the other side of the room, going through the shelves opposite of him. The space went completely still as they both went through the stack of folders shelved between the old cabinets. It wasn't until curiosity got the better of him that he finally looked up, his eyes falling onto her form.

Her back was facing him, giving him a view of her tousled hair falling down over her shoulders. His eyes involuntarily trailed the contours of her body, betraying a mixture of intrigue and curiosity. His gaze lingered upon the gentle curve of her shoulder, the graceful line of her spine, and the sway of her hips as she moved onto the next shelf, her steps echoing through the silence and it was then he realized she was wearing heels.

Again.

This wasn't the first time she decided to wear shoes that looked very uncomfortable to wear. Who even wore heels in this line of work? Being an FBI agent meant you had to be quick on your feet because anything could happen unexpectedly. He once voiced out his opinion on this matter, which she only answered with, "My choice of clothing won't reduce the capability of my brain, Reid. You and I are still doctors even if I wear a bathing suit to work."

"It's not about your choice of clothing, it's about being practical."

"That's why I keep a pair of sneakers in my drawers,” she had haughtily replied, then narrowed her eyes at him. "And don't comment on my shoes when I've held myself from judging on your ugly cardigans."

His cardigans were not ugly.

He shook the memory away as eyes roamed over her again, noticing her very exposed legs. She was also wearing a skirt today, something she often did and something he never dared to have an opinion on, knowing she would probably bite his head off if he did.

"Stop staring at me."

Spencer cleared his throat at being caught. "I wasn't."

"I could practically feel your eyes on me." She looked over her shoulder. "I have great spidey senses."

There was a sudden pause. "Spidey senses?"

"Yeah, like Spiderman." When he didn't respond, she turned around and faced him. "Please tell me you know who Spiderman is?"

When he returned her gaze with a frown, she couldn't help but laugh, turning her back towards him again. "You know this is why people like me better than you. We both may be smart, but you got to admit, my knowledge doesn't simply stop on academics."

He should've been offended by her words, he should've countered back a vile reply, but her voice became white noise to him as he watched her body leaning down, picking up a document that slipped from her grasp. His eyes caught the way the tight skirt clung to her form like a second skin. The fabric, stretched taut against her curves, highlighted the alluring lines of her figure. The skirt's snug fit caressed her thighs, tracing their slender form and hinting at the softness beneath.

This wasn't the first time he noticed her beauty in this type of way, beneath all that glare she often carried whenever he was around her, he knew she was an attractive woman. It was her personality that often stopped him from marveling this insight. But being in this closed, tight space, Spencer was forced to study her, and with the way his body was reacting, he knew his lingering stare was more than simple admiration.

He could feel his blood pulsing down south, tightening underneath the confinement of his pants.

As she straightened herself, she felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. She turned her head and noticed his eyes training on her body.

"You're still staring." She then caught a glimpse of something unguarded in his gaze, something that was definitely far from hatred. Her mind whirled with questions, trying to decipher the meaning behind it. "Stop looking at me like that."

A hint of a smile played on his lips. "Like what?"

"Like you either want to strangle me or—"

"Or?" He prompted.

Like you want to eat me alive.

It was the only way she could describe it. She was aware of how his eyes usually pierced her, how every movement she made or word she uttered could trigger this immense disdain radiating from him. But now the weight of his gaze bore down upon her, casting a palpable heat that danced across her skin. Something had changed, and she felt it in the intensity of his eyes, so different from the usual hostility she had come to expect.

They held a predatory gleam as if he could pounce on her at any moment.

“If I hadn't known you better," she carefully spoke, watching as he took a step towards her, and she took one back, bumping into the wall. "I'd say you're trying to flirt with me with those eyes."

"Me? Flirt with you?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't flatter yourself."

She scoffed, squaring her shoulders as he closed the distance between them. "You're right. What was I thinking? You can't even flirt to live."

"You don't even know how I flirt."

"Reid, I've seen you flirt," she said between fits of laughter. "Remember you tried getting that cop's number? You were stuttering and suddenly giving her facts about oil paintings. Paintings."

"She had an interest in fine art," he stated. "And if you must know, after giving those informative facts, I told that no amount of art could ever compare to her beauty as a compliment.”

She snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "And that actually worked? She gave you her number?"

"No." Then a smirk curled on his lips. "But she did come home with me."

She frowned. That was new information. She never really thought about what went on in his love life, but hearing him implying his active sex life had her feeling strange. "She did?"

He took another step forward. "If I hadn't known you better," he carefully spoke, mimicking her words before. "I'd say you're jealous."

She tilted her head up and scowled at him. "Even if you were the last person on this planet I wouldn't consider breathing in the same air with you."

She waited for his response, but he didn't even seem to be bothered by her words. And as they stood there, holding each other's gaze, she became acutely aware of everything; their close proximity, the warmth radiating from his body, and the rise and fall of his chest. His unfamiliar scent lingered in the air, a distinct combination of earthy musk and a hint of something indefinable. She had never allowed herself to notice it before, but now it was impossible to ignore.

Her eyes then traced the lines on his face, sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and finally settled on his eyes. At first, she thought her eyes was deceiving her, but she knew exactly what held behind his gaze. It was the same expression she saw in all her past lovers. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see the same intensity on other men, but to see it on him? The guy who had always hated her guts the moment she corrected his statistic rants the first time they met?

Spencer fucking Reid?

It was too much for her to handle. She was used to his piercing gaze, his evident disdain. Not this. It became almost overwhelming that she decided to step away.

Just as she turned to retreat from the intensity of his gaze, her body froze as she felt warm fingers gripping her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her body and her eyes snapped back at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ah, there it was, that hatred she was looking for blazing in his eyes again. "You see, I don't like you."

"Good." She held her chin up. "The feeling's mutual."

"You think you're better than everybody else, you think you're better than me."

She was about to retort another response when he suddenly yanked her, a gasp leaving her mouth. "But somehow I can’t help myself from wanting to taste you.”

Then it happened so fast. One moment she was trying to register what was happening, the next thing she knew his lips were on hers, moving frantically in desperate hunger. She couldn't believe he was actually kissing her. It also burned her up inside to find he was good at it. She wanted him to be all teeth and awkward so she could sneer at him and push him away, but he was holding her face in his hands like they hadn't spent months sniping at each other.

A turmoil of thoughts swarmed her mind—What are you doing? Why are you kissing him back? What the hell is wrong with you?—while she gripped onto his arm as a pleased sigh slipped through her mouth before she could catch it.

He slowly pulled away from her, eyes glittering in mischief. "Would you look at that?" he muttered, gripping her jaw and tilting her face like he was appraising her. "All bark and no bite."

She shoved his hands away from her face, ignoring how nice it had felt, wide and warm and firm. "Don't test me."

"Yeah?" His hand settled on her hip, pulling her against him deliberately slow, giving her every opportunity to knock his hand away, to sidestep him, to tell him to stop, but she didn't. He took it as a sign to run his hand behind her. "I think you're bluffing."

Her heart quickened when she felt him gently squeezing her ass. "A-About what?"

"All this bravado of yours," he taunted, his hands now trailing down to her sides. "I bet there's something sweet underneath all this bitterness."

"You don't know me," she hissed breathlessly. It was difficult to keep snapping back at him when his other hand ran up her leg, pushing her skirt up as he went, his grip encompassing the entire width of her thigh.

"Maybe not. But I'm always up for a challenge." His calloused hand brushed at the lacy edge of her underwear and she sucked in a shaky breath. "Let's see how long you can keep up with this attitude."

She opened her mouth to say something snippy, but he ducked down and kissed the words out of her mouth with a low groan. Her brain suddenly froze when his finger curled under the outline of her underwear and tugged it to the side, trailing his slender finger through her bare slit.

A smirk curled at the corner of his lips as pulled away, trailing his mouth along her jawline. His finger brushed along her slickness and it took a lot of self-control for her not to moan. "How are you already so wet?"

Although a small gasp emitted from her as she felt him sliding a finger, and when his thumb pressed against her clit, she closed her eyes, tossing her head to the side at the feeling of him filling her up.

"You're awfully quiet," he murmured against her neck, sucking a bruise against her soft skin as he began to pump his finger. "Who would've thought I had to touch you to keep your mouth shut."

She bit her bottom lip, fighting against the pleasure that surged through her, desperately trying to suppress the enjoyment coursing through her veins. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." His tone was vexingly calm, and all it did was rile her up more. She wished he'd match her frustration because his composure was annoying. Then to make matters worse, he let out an amused laugh. He fucking laughed. "Look at you trying to hold yourself back."

"I'm not—fuck." She gasped as she felt his finger curling inside her.

"Keep telling yourself that." He added another finger and she slumped against the wall, pressing back hard to keep herself upright as he pumped his wrist. "It's okay to admit you're enjoying this."

"I-I'm not," she huffed indignantly.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

Her breath mingled with the sound of her arousal echoing in the narrowed space as he drove his fingers into her faster. "Shut up, Reid." She then grabbed onto his arm as the pleasure intensified, nails digging into his skin. "You think you're so smart, so full of yourself—"

"You really like picking up a fight, don't you? That's why you always have an attitude with me." His lips brushed her ear. "It gets you worked up. It gets you wet."

She quickly shook her head. "I just don't like you."

"Hmm." He leaned back and watched the way she tensed beneath his touch, her muscles coiling with delicate restraint. It was as if she fought against the pleasure that threatened to consume her, seeking to maintain control even as her body betrayed her desires. "I wonder if you'll like it as much if I put my head between your thighs."

The thought of having his face buried right where her arousal burned drove her over the edge. Her body betrayed her and she knew he could feel it too. "Oh wow, you're clenching around my fingers," he hummed in satisfaction. "Is that what you want? You want me to eat you out?"

"No," she mumbled but he found her hips bucking against his palm.

"Your body is saying otherwise." He withdrew his fingers but kept rubbing tight circles against her clit. Her blood was hammering under her skin and her legs shook as she tried to roll her hips up against his hand again. "Say you want me between your thighs."

She gritted her teeth, her muscles tightening in a valiant effort to hold back the mounting pleasure that begged to be unleashed. "I'm not saying that."

"Are you sure?" His other hand traveled along the back of her head before fisting her hair in his hand, exposing the column of her throat to him. "Don't you want to come all over my face?"

"Reid..." she mumbled hopelessly, her head spinning as his hot breath brushed against her skin. The thought of admitting that infuriated her because him actually getting her off was something she'd never live down. This was Spencer Reid, the man who had always infuriated her with his know-it-all statistics as if she hadn't already known half of the things he said.

But damn it, she really wanted him between her thighs.

"Say it," he repeated, moving his hand away entirely, and she grabbed his wrist desperately, pulling his fingers back to where she wanted them. "Say I want your mouth on me, Spencer, and I'll happily oblige."

"Reid—"

"Spencer," he corrected. "Say it."

Her body quivered, a taut wire stretched to its limit, yearning to snap under the weight of the pleasure that coursed through her. And then his finger suddenly stopped its movement and she knew he wasn't going to touch her again until she gave in. If that's how he wanted it, fine. She was going to consider this as one of their silly mind games, their usual banter whenever they tried to outwit one another. She could figure out a way to get back at him later. She could swallow her pride for now.

"I want your mouth on me," she reluctantly caved in.

"Did you forget my name?"

Unbelievable.

"I fucking hate you," she sneered. Then she pushed him away from the crook of her neck and leveled her gaze on him. "Just put your fucking mouth on me, Spencer."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You have a very foul mouth."

But true to his words, he eventually dropped to his knees, his hands trailing on either of her sides before he slipped her underwear down her legs. His fingers trailed along her skin as he did it, prickling the depth of her anticipation even when her mind was still trying to comprehend what she was letting herself in.

Because she had never thought of getting eaten out at work, let alone with someone she hated. Sure, hate was a very strong word, but it was what she was used to feeling whenever it came to him. It was easy to engross her hatred every time he treated her differently from the others.

Hate she could do, it came naturally to her. But to desire him, actually wanting him to bury his face between her thighs, was starting to mess her up, and not in a bad way. Not in a way that had her feeling repulsed, but in a way that made her want to grab onto his hair and pull his face right at the center of her heat.

Spencer looked up at her and smiled, as if he knew what she was thinking, and pushed up her skirt around her hips. His eyes bored into her as he hiked one of her legs onto his shoulder. His gaze traveled down her body, taking in her flushed cheeks—out of anger or embarrassment, he didn't know—and continued to sweep over the curve of her breasts before they stopped right in front of him.

"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushed her damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty thing?"

There was something compelling about having Spencer sinking on his knees before her, but having his mouth wrapped around her clit pulled away her senses and her legs started to buckle that she had to grab onto the nearest cabinet for support. She stifled a moan, not expecting the enthusiastic way he devoured her from below with frantic motions of his wandering tongue.

This was so wrong. However, heat continued washing over, traveling up towards her face and burning at the tips of her ears. The more his mouth sucked onto her, lapping his tongue through her slickness, the more her body coursed with pleasure that she couldn't stop herself from sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him in place as she ground her hips over his face.

"For someone who claims to hate me," he whispered, his voice vibrating against her skin, his tongue pushing into her walls. "You sure are enjoying this."

A moan was thick in her throat until she swallowed it down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how true his words were. "You're annoying. So fucking annoying," she hissed.

Spencer hummed. "And you taste so good."

She gasped in surprise when she felt him lick a long stripe along her slit, the rough pad of his tongue catching her clit as she jolted. His fingers dipped into her thighs as he held her steady, lewd sounds leaving his lips as he continued to suck her wetness. His movements were suddenly fast, so feral and animalistic as he shamelessly lapped her skin, swallowing every liquid dripping off her body.

The built-up pleasure inside her continued to grow as she rolled her hips into his mouth, trying to focus on the sensation of him pressing his tongue against the same spot each time. Her chest was heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.

"Oh, god," Her voice shook, head tipped back and eyes staring at the ceiling as she felt herself dance on the precipice of release for a few agonizing moments before she finally started to shatter. Then a strangled cry left her lips as she began to buck her hips as he continued to suck her clit through her climax, the pleasure clouding her mind. It wasn't until he finally stood up, looking down at her with a grin that she finally took in what just happened.

"Do you still hate me?"

Yes, yes she did, especially with that smug smile of his taunting her. Yet she found herself hooking her fingers around the belt strap of his pants, pulling him closer as the weight of her resistance began to crumble under the force of his unwavering gaze. "So fucking much." The triumphant smile on his face grew as she started to unbuckle his belt, the sound echoing in the room. "Do you have a condom?"

"Do you really think I'm the type of person to be carrying a condom in my pocket?"

"I think you're the type of person who never gets laid." He threw her an uninterested stare which she decided to ignore. Then she let her hands fall to the side. "I'm not having sex without a condom."

Spencer weighed in her words. If he was smart, he would've stopped himself, pulled away, and accept her admission. But he didn't want to be smart, after depending on his intelligence throughout his life, he didn't want to be rational. It was definitely out of his character, but there was something about her that stirred a dormant part of him, awakening desires and emotions he hadn't known existed within his soul.

He had always prided himself on his restraint and self-discipline, but after finally having a taste of her, he found himself unraveling. He wanted more. So he leaned closer, and pressed a desperate kiss at the hollow of her throat, marveling at the way her body trembled from his touch. "Why not?"

She was going to regret it. She really was. But damn it, how could she restrain herself when he was sucking into her skin like a man starved. She splayed her hands on his chest and pushed him away before giving him the deadliest glare she could muster.

"I swear to god if you finish inside me I will kill you."

Then a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Was planning to come in your mouth anyway."

She was about to retort a haughty response when he suddenly grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around, pushing her against the wall. She was taken aback by the newfound dominance he exuded in his touch. It was a side of him she had never witnessed before, and it sent a thrill of surprise and intrigue coursing through her veins, something she would never admit out loud.

He dragged his tongue across his lips at the sight before him as his hands reached for his belt, unclasping the strap before unbuttoning his pants, the sound of his zipper being pulled down echoing in the narrowed space. He then slightly pulled down his briefs, slipping out his cock before his knee wedged in between her thighs, parting her legs to open.

He slightly shifted, his jaw twitching as he gathered saliva in his mouth, craning his neck down to spit on her pulsing core before the head of his cock gently nudged her clit. Embarrassingly, she clenched around nothing. Her vision went white and she felt herself tremble as he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing in inch by inch.

"Fuck," he sighed, hips twitching as he finally slid into her fully, feeling her walls clenching hard around him. "I can get used to this."

She could get used to this too. She had never felt so full before, never felt herself being stretched like this so deliciously, but she certainly didn't need to feed his ego by moaning about it. "Well don't, this is the only time I'm letting this happen."

He pulled back his hips, leaving only the tip as he watched her slickness coated around him. "We'll see about that."

And then all hell broke loose.

He slammed into her with so much force that she let out a muffled scream as her eyes shot wide open. He relentlessly bucked his hips, his cock filling her over and over without self-control, the tip of him hitting her deepest parts relentlessly. She could barely even think as his hips fell into a rhythm, sending her higher and higher with each thrust.

Her legs tensed up even more at the pressure, his hands gripping her hips so hard his fingers dig into her flesh that she knew she would leave bruises. Behind her, he was grunting and growling through gritted teeth as he repeatedly buried himself into her without remorse. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had her eyes rolling back behind closed lids, her mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.

One of his hands released her hip before she felt him grabbing a fistful of her hair, just at the base of her skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise tore out of her at the feel of it. "Poor baby," he cooed. "Look at you so desperate for my cock."

She couldn't help but be stunned by his words. Who would've thought Spencer Reid was good at dirty talk? Definitely not her. It was as though he had unveiled a secret facet of his personality that had remained hidden until now, and she found herself captivated by this revelation.

Not that she was going to admit this, of course, so instead, she solely focused on the way he addressed her. "I am not your baby."

"You want me to call you something else?" He asked between bated breaths, hips thrusting into her. "How about Angel? Darling? Sweetheart?"

She let out a frustrated groan at his teasing but it was probably impossible to discern it from the rest of the noises she was trying to hold. "Are you always this chatty during sex?"

"No," he hummed as he picked up his pace, sending a helpless spasm through her.

"R-Really?" She mused breathlessly. "I must be special then."

He then tugged on her hair even rougher, causing her to curse loudly in response, her hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as his hips jutted into her relentlessly like a man possessed. "Don't get too cocky."

"Just admit it," she whispered, pleasure racing down her body in waves. "You like me."

With another sharp tug on her hair, he abruptly plunged his cock so deep inside of her that she couldn't stop herself from arching her back. He held himself there as he used the grip on her hair to haul her backward to him, a surprised yelp falling out of her. "I don't like you."

Her back fell onto his chest and she felt his body vibrating behind her. "Then why is your heart beating so fast?"

"Well, sex is physically exerting so..."

How was it possible to be this aroused and annoyed at the same time? Wasn't sex supposed to be enjoyable? Well, she was clearly enjoying this, but it was hard to fully sink into the pleasure when he was driving her insane. Unless...

It dawned on her, that was her move. That was how she could play his game. Maybe she should be enjoying this to the fullest, maybe she should stroke his ego, get into his head, and have him feel as desperate as she was. A fierce determination ignited within her, fueling a newfound resolve to turn the tables on him. This was how she was going to get him back.

"Harder," she asked, pushing her hips into him.

His pace suddenly slowed down, uncertain whether he was hearing her right. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Please?" she added before he could prompt her.

A satisfied sound escaped his lips—it was a sound she had never heard coming from him, loud and crude emitting between a growl and something coming close to a whimper, which had her smiling triumphantly. "L-Look at you begging now."

This was easier than she expected. She rolled her head back against his shoulder and let out a moan she had kept so hard on controlling. "I want you to fuck me harder, Spencer."

His sharp intake of breath at that moment was worth it. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing, baby?" she asked sweetly, dripping in forced affection that sounded nothing like her at all.

He instantly released the hold on her hair, his hand snaking around to grip her throat as his other hand slid around the front of her. "You're messing with me."

She let out a strained sound as she felt his other hand traveling down where they were connected. "I-I thought you wanted me to admit how good you make me feel? Is that not enough? You want me to cry out how amazing your cock feels inside me?"

Then she couldn't help her next words.

"Should I call you daddy?"

Oh, that got him. He hissed as the hand on her throat tightened. "You're a menace."

"A menace you enjoy fucking?"

His lips curled into a snarl. "I'm going to wipe that smug look off your face."

Only then he began to thrust back into her roughly. A series of breathy, needy gasps fell out of her as she held tight onto his forearm that was holding her by her throat. His other hand on her clit circled around roughly, touching her just right that she entirely lost it, her hips quaked against him as he groaned out in response, her walls clenching his cock.

Then his hand left her clit a few moments later, instead landing hard on her ass with a sharp smack that sounded throughout the room. His fingers dug into the flesh there as his hips began clumsily ramming into her, his cock twitching inside of her. The stimulation was too much for her that she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep quiet as he stretched her harshly, the delicious burn only adding to the pleasure.

"You're still holding back?" He taunted, bringing back his hand before another loud smack rang in her ears, her ass burning from the pain. "Let that voice out, no one's going to hear you."

It was amazing how long she could hold in her pleasure because now her walls were starting to crumble when a particularly deep and brutal thrust had his cock hitting her just right. And then, it happened—the dam of restraint finally burst. A low moan escaped her lips, a primal cry of pleasure that echoed through the room like a song of surrender

"That's it," he grunted. "You sound so pretty."

As the sensations intensified, her breaths came in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. Once she let herself go, she couldn't stop herself from moaning out his name, to which he responded with his own moan, especially when she clenched around him even tighter.

"You gonna come for me now?" She helplessly nodded, not trusting herself to form any coherent words, squirming her hips against him for more. "Go on then," he demanded, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Come for me."

She finally snapped as she gave in to the sensation that had been gradually crawling its way up her spine. Pleasure was soon coating every inch of her and as her eyes closed. She didn't bother to muffle her cries this time as she fell apart around his cock, her body convulsing as he continued to thrust inside her, forcing the pleasure to keep growing stronger and stronger until small black spots started to appear in her vision.

When her climax had washed over, she was left dizzy and breathless, still leaning against him. His loud panting breaths quickly filled her ears, his chest heaving beneath her head and she could tell by the way his hips were fluctuating in their pace, the feel of his throbbing cock inside of her, that he was very close to his release.

Panic suddenly crept into her daze state and she craned her neck to look back. "Don't you dare finish inside me, I swear to god—"

Very abruptly he slipped his cock out from inside of her, his arms releasing their hold on her just as fast before turning her to face him.

"Get on your knees."

The ground scraped her skin as she quickly sank onto her knees, and just because he looked so damn good tethering in his pleasure as she stared up at him, she gripped his cock in her hands and took him fully in her mouth.

"Fuck," the gravel in his voice was prominent, her lips gliding effortlessly down his shaft until her nose hits his stomach. His hand finds its way into her hair as she kneeled there before him, fisting a bunch of it at the scalp, desperately needing something to tie him down to reality.

She slid back off his cock to take just his head inside her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before flattening it against his tip, licking a fat stripe while looking up at him through her lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, tightening the grip on her hair.

Maintaining his gaze, she took him completely down her throat again, essentially swallowing him, holding herself there until she gagged around him. She could taste him on her tongue as she continued to repeat the motion, tears welling at her lids and saliva building at her lips, seeping down her chin.

He groaned at the sight.

"I-I'm gonna come—"

And he did. She felt lightheaded as the first shot of liquid filled her mouth, and then he jutted his hips a few more times before another surge of his release spilled down her throat. She swallowed him whole, swallowed every drop of him into her mouth as he continued to look down in wonder. She never thought of ever being in this position, but now she decided there was nothing else more satisfying than to watch her rival come undone from her touch.

Although she couldn't dwell in her contentment for long because as she released him from her mouth, the sound of the door rattling waked her senses. Panic flashed in her eyes as they met his gaze, and they instinctively stepped apart before sprinting into action, Spencer tucking himself back in his pants, while she quickly got to her feet and pulled down her skirt, scurrying to the other side of the room.

It wasn't until she spotted her underwear laying by his feet that she realized she was still naked underneath. Spencer followed her line of sight and just as the door creaked, he bent down and quickly grabbed the fabric, shoving it in his pocket at the same time their friend entered the room.

"There you are," Luke sighed in relief, casting them both a look. "We've been searching everywhere for you guys. Are you both alright? I thought I heard screaming."

In that fleeting moment, they both exchanged a glance laden with unspoken messages, each silently urging the other to maintain composure.

"Yes. I-uh." She cleared her throat, struggling to suppress the heat rising to her cheeks, willing herself not to betray the blush that threatened to expose what went on before this. "I was screaming for help."

Luke watched them with keen eyes, skepticism etched upon his face. A subtle tension crackled in the air, barely noticeable to most but not escaping the scrutiny of his gaze. He watched as Spencer hid his face behind a file he was holding, and she was studying her nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

He narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything, before stepping back towards the door again. "Well, come on, there's a new lead on the case. Everyone's waiting."

When he finally left them alone again, she let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding and quickly held out her hand. Spencer raised his eyebrows at her. "What?"

"My underwear?"

He stared at her empty hand, then at her face, and shrugged nonchalantly, leaving her dumbfounded as he started to leave the room before the door closed on them again.

"Reid," she hissed, following behind him. "Give it back."

He looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile, or something close to it because even after what happened a few minutes ago his smile was far from looking genuine. "Come by my place after work and I might give it to you."

Her steps faltered.

"Might?"

But his back was already facing her as he strode down the hallway. She stood there, feeling extremely exposed wearing nothing but her own skin underneath her skirt, and the only way to get back her missing piece of clothing was to force herself in his presence again.

She closed her eyes and sighed, not sure what she felt right now was either anger or exhaustion. Probably both—no, wait, definitely both.

Because what the fuck did she get herself into?

Quick question, if I make a taglist for my one-shots does anyone want to be added?

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daydreamerdrew · 1 year

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The Defenders (1972) #68

#aww the Hulk yelling out to his friends ‘Cat-Girl Bird-Nose look! two Sword-Girls!’ is so cute #but seriously I’m not a fan of making Barbara Norriss evil #I think there’s been a lot of revisionist writing with her to make Valkyrie taking over her body more palatable #like she started out as a member of this cult to sacrificed the Hulk to some other dimension #but she regretted participating in that and so afterwards tried to leave and for that was sentenced to the same bad dimension as the Hulk #and when they were both over their the two of them helped each other and protected each other best they could #and the story ends with the Hulk and Dr. Strange who has already been trapped over there making it out #and Barbara sacrificing herself so that they could #because someone needed to stay behind #and so she was stuck alone in that dimension with just the monster that was torturing her #and when we next saw her she had ‘mated’ with the monster and they were fused together #and she’s definitely the victim in that situation #but the process of separating them like made her insane #and that was used to justify Valkyrie using her body #because whenever Barbara was in control she was completely insane so there really wasn’t any need to give her her body back right #but none of these stories after the fact acknowledged that Barbara regretted what she did to the Hulk #or that she tried to help him afterwards or that she sacrificed herself from him and Dr. Strange or that she was the victim of that monster #so this story that makes her evil like falls flat for me like #maybe her being angry with Valkyrie is a little justified actually #I think it was also revealed afterwards that she was like groomed into the Hulk as part of a plot by her mother to make herself beautiful #idk making Barbara evil feels cheap to me #marvel #bruce banner #valkyrie #barbara denton #kyle richmond #patsy walker #my posts #comic panels

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frozenrogue89 · 8 months

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I Don't Want to be Great, I Wanna be Me.

So we all know the classic ‘JL meets Phantom through summoning’ prompt, and we usually get Danny “High King, Savior of Worlds, Eldritch, Cryptid, Ancient, No Shits Given, Chaos Gremlin” Fenton making an appearance, cool and confident, running circles around the JL. But what if, this High King they summoned, just… wasn’t.

The Justice League was prepared for anything, with the latest BBG threatening the world they had to take drastic measures. The JL Dark managed to scrounge up the summoning spell they… “liberated” from a cult group a couple months back. At first the JL was against the thought of summoning another highly powerful unknown, but with extensive research, Constantine and various others vouching for this so-called “King Phantom'' , and no option left, well, their hands were tied. Said to be the vanquisher of the previous Tyrant of the throne, Savior of the Infinite Realms, thousands of years old, infinitely powerful, infinitely old, and some smaller rumors claimed, infinitely kind. Phantom is said to be extremely protective of humans (something they were banking on), loyal to its subjects, and said to rarely get angry (yeah right). A terrifying creature, tall and confident in its destructive power.

So yes, the League was prepared. They gathered as many members as they could spare for this meeting, everyone ready for a fight, but praying for none. The Big Three stepped forward while the rest hung back. Constantine and the Dark members start chanting, beginning the ritual.

The chanting ends. The silence hangs. Bodies still.

Then, a flash from the hieroglyphs on the ground and an explosion of wind with no origin, a blinding light originating from the summoning circle grows in strength, letting out a vibrating hum that causes Superman to cover his ears and wince. The hum starts shaking the ground and the light condenses into itself, revealing the silhouette of an object.

The wind stops. The light is gone, the vibration a memory. Everything is as it is before, with one exception.

Wonder Woman, wasting no time, straightens, “High King Phantom, Ruler of the infinite Realms, We are the Justice league, We ask your help in vanquishing The BBG, it threatens the lives of all those who live…” Her eyes widened as what stood before her.

This… this didn’t look like a High King, Vanquisher of Pariah Dark. This little thing did not give any indication of confidence, power, or age… it looked… young. The only thing terrifying about this creature is the size of bags under his eyes. Drowning in soft clothes, hunched over, looking utterly defeated, Nothing like they expected. Diana would almost mistake it if for a human child if not for the glowing eyes, fangs, and slight aura it gave off. But this, this was no King… Is- are those tears in its eyes?!

____________

Danny has not been having a good day. Or week. Or month, or- anything really. It seems like dying was only the beginning of his problems. No, scratch that, this all started with his parents’ damn obsession with ghosts. Danny swore they were part ghost too with their utter infatuation with all things Ecto. If only they hadn’t tried to access the ghost zone, if only Vlad hadn’t been involved to become Danny’s biggest nightmare, if only his parents gave up their research once they had kids, if only he didn’t walk in that stupid portal to impress his friends.

If only he had stayed dead.

If only he didn’t gain powers, then he wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.

Danny scowled to himself and let himself flop onto his bed. He’s been spending the last couple weeks cycling through this whole rogue gallery, TWICE! Plus fighting a handful of random ghosts who thought they could take on the ‘Ghost King’ (Pariah’s evil reign and thousand year slumber didn’t help either with all the paperwork that’s left for Danny.) Running from the GIW, his parents, and Val as usual, (Ghost Scum,

Dealing with ‘Mayor’ Vlad’s Evil Plan of the Week -Danny’s powers were still on the fritz after that encounter, painful, was a word for it- Not to mention school, between Dash being Dash, forgetting his science homework, missing a test because of Skulker, Lancer and his threats of, “Black Beauty Fenton! If your grades keep dropping you’ll spend the rest of the year in detention! With ME!” and now his teachers (and Jazz) are talking to him about college? He’s still a sophomore, give him a break! It isn’t Danny’s fault the whole universe is apparently out to get him.

The real cherry on top of this whole thing was the recent ‘summonings’. No thanks to the Fruit Loop and his meddling, with Jack Fenton unknowingly helping him, again. A nice little instruction booklet called, “How to Summon the Ghost King, Made Easy!” got out onto the internet and the world, free for any psycho to speed dial Danny away from his life. At various points in the last month Danny has been forcibly -and if he was honest, painfully- ripped from anything he’s been doing and dumped smack dab into the center of various cults’ plans, usually they wanted power, money, or world domination. His saving grace was the process of summoning forced him to transform or no identity reveals, thank The Ancients.

Sam and Tucker have been a godsend in getting the Booklet wiped from the internet, Danny would be lost without them. He would’ve fallen apart the first week into his powers if not for them. Who knew watching your friend half dying created lasting relationships? They really kept him going and he trusts them with his life, really he does.

But Danny would never tell them about some of the things he’s seen getting summoned, he couldn’t do that to them. The various groups of psychos seemed to think Danny was more likely to listen to them if they offered sacrifices.. human sacrifices. Some nights he couldn’t stop smelling blood and incense, couldn’t get those images out of his mind. He hated himself for keeping track, and hated himself for not wanting to. 15. 15 people, so far just because some handful of lunatics wanted some money or something equally stupid like that. Danny was 15, that’s one whole human being, for every year he was alive, one of them was even younger th- she was just- Danny couldn’t- she was- so small…

Pulling his blankets over his head, Danny took measured breaths against the tightness in his throat. It’s Not fair. It’s not. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t want to be King of the undead, he’s just a kid himself isn’t he? It was just an accident turning on the portal. He didn’t mean to. Why is he stuck fixing everything? Can't he just be a normal kid? Go to school, get good grades, become an astronaut? He’s so completely out of his depth, who is he kidding, it’s just a matter of time before he screws up again and someone gets hurt, or worse. He's trying, though, he is. He tries so hard to be good, to do good. To not turn into Dan.

‘Stop it, Danny. Now’s not the time for bad thoughts.’ This is the first time Danny’s had a chance to sleep in two days, his parents are out and left the home defenses are down, Jazz is studying at the library, Sam and Tucker are playing Doom while keeping an eye on ecto readings around town. He has maybe 4 blissful hours to spend in dream land. He sighed and sunk into his pillow trying to blank out his thoughts before he could spiral again.

A tightening in the chest, and eyes snap open, ‘NO! NO! Please not now!’ is all Danny manages to think before the unfortunately familiar sensation of space displacement takes hold. His transformation is forced on him as he feels himself fall apart and get put back together simultaneously.

‘Just a couple hours rest, is tHAT SO MUCH TO ASK!!??’ The anger leaves before it can fully form due to the pure exhaustion that washed over his ectofied bones and straight to his core. It feels strained, like glass under pressure, not knowing if the slightest change will shatter him. He slowly gets his bearings and- oh, this almost seems worse than a regular cult summoning. At least there’s not a dead body.

It’s the Justice League, and Wonder Woman is talking to him. And Danny, Danny can’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know if they want to trap him, kill him, experiment… if the GIW got their claws into the JL… Danny can’t anymore, He can practically feel his core splintering into jagged gut- wrecking pieces. He just wants to rest, to feel safe, for just a little while. Why can’t he?

Throat burning and eyes watering, Danny realizes he can do something, just one thing. It’s the only thing left that he can do. Something he hasn’t done for a long time, ever since dying.

Danny starts crying.

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queenie-the-court-jester · 29 days

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that isn't very holy of you :/

Yandere church boy x gn!reader

It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time

Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention

✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area

✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces

✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter

✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday

"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"

✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention

✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching

"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"

✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph

✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile

"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"

✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal

✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...

✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?

✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...

✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you

✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...

✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..

✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?

"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'

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andvys · 10 days

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter thirteen ⭐︎ For a moment, I was heaven struck

Warnings: mentions of smut, mentions of heartbreak and unrequited feelings, mentions of bad parenting, allusions to depression, lots of fluff -- and, angst at the end

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve gives you a glimpse of a future you could have with him -- if only things were so simple.

Word count: 13.5k+

Author's note: I'm not really proud of this chapter, but I hope you guys are gonna love this ♡ @hellfire--cult thanks for helping me, lovelyyyy

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Sunlight peeks through the curtains of Steve’s bedroom, illuminating the room ever so slightly. The weight on his chest warms him up, the scent that lingers on your hair, and your body is his own, you used his shampoo and bodywash the night before. To know that you smell like him, causes something in his chest to stir.

As he opens his eyes, a smile appears on his face.

Your cheek is squished against his bare chest, your eyes shut tightly as you’re still sleeping deeply. Your arm is wrapped around his waist, your whole body covering his own like a blanket.

His own arms are wrapped around you, his left hand hidden underneath your – his shirt, fingers drumming against your soft skin.

Steve blinks his sleepiness away and he raises his hand up towards your hair, smoothing it out, he runs his fingers through it as he watches you.

This isn’t anything new, you woke up beside him, on him, countless times before, and yet, it still feels so surreal sometimes.

You are still his Blondie.

He is still Steve.

And yet, something has changed, something has shifted.

A sigh falls from your lips, and you only snuggle deeper into his chest, scrunching up your nose a little, before your features relax again.

He brushes some of your hair out of your face, his fingertips graze your cheek and your temple. He begins to twirl your strand around his finger, still smiling as his eyes stay on you.

Memories from the night before start flashing in his mind, causing his smile to grow bigger as he thinks of how you kissed him, how you touched him, how you let him touch you, how you clung to his body.

You got out of his car on shaky feet, your knees nearly buckled when you tried to walk, so he rushed towards you and steadied you with hands on your waist, before he leaned down and hooked his arm around the back of your knees and threw you over his shoulder, you squealed at his actions and hugged his waist tightly, as though he would let you fall. He couldn’t even help himself when he slapped your ass, the whimper that fell from your lips only made him feel more smug, just as the shakiness in your legs did.

You shared another first together, last night. And that feels special and… intimate. It isn’t something that he wants you to do with someone else – he doesn’t want to imagine you with anyone else, at all.

He only wants this, you finding pleasure in him and no one else.

He wants to feel special, he wants to feel needed, and so far, you have been good at making him feel such things.

And he tells himself that this is all it is – pleasure. That the gnawing feeling in his chest, the night before, wasn’t jealousy. That it was only possessiveness that he had felt because he wants you all to himself.

But as he lies in his bed, with you in his arms, snuggled up against him, sleeping on top of him, the way a casual hookup shouldn’t be, and he holds you tightly, even tighter than he held one girl before, his hand freezes in your hair and he stops twirling it, his heart jumps in his chest, and his eyes widen as the panic in him, rushes through him so quickly that it halts his breath in his throat.

And yet, the warmth in his chest feels so alarming, a flame that he thought had died, sparking – even if weakly.

No. No. No.

His mind chants the same word over and over again. But then you stir in your sleep, and he feels your bare legs on his, which are hidden beneath the blanket that covers you both. Your fingernails graze his skin, your lips touch his chest as you turn your head, and then, you lay your palm on the spot, right over his poor heart. An innocent move that makes the spark a tiniest bit brighter, stronger, and his heart beat faster.

‘Well shit’. Steve thinks.

He wants to groan, he wants to roll his eyes at himself and get angry at the weakness that lingers in him, but he can’t, he can’t even be mad at himself, not when he takes a deeper, longer look at you.

What would King Steve think of this?

His opinions don’t matter, they haven’t mattered once, since he let him die. But there was always a part of himself that he hated when he was still very much alive. He hated the thoughts in his head and how his own eyes strayed, even when he didn’t want them to. How his mind took him to where he told himself he didn’t want to be.

King Steve doesn’t matter, his opinions don’t matter – and yet, he can’t help but wonder what his teenage self would think of him now if he saw you in his arms, like this, so closely, so intimately.

He won’t ever find out, but he feels… troubled.

“What time is it?” Your groggy voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his eyes focus again as they meet your tired ones.

You prop yourself up on his chest, and cover your mouth with your hand as you turn away with a yawn.

Steve’s hand leaves your hair, and he runs it down your back instead as he watches you, the smile never fading. No makeup on your skin, your hair in its natural state, his shirt on your frame, and your features marked with tiredness. You’re adorable like this.

You blink the sleep away, and rub your eyes as you take a look at the alarm on his nightstand. It’s 10 am.

“Good morning, Blondie,” Steve whispers.

“Morning, Steve.”

You roll off of him, much to his dismay. You stretch your arms out and try to do the same to your legs when the soreness hits you, and you register the strong ache between your thighs. A pained whimper falls from your lips and you scrunch your eyes shut again.

“Ouch.”

Steve’s eyes flash with concern as he pushes himself up, he eyes your body and watches the way you press your hand against your inner thigh, whimpering at the pain he caused, the night before.

“I’m going to kill you, Harrington.”

Relief is quick to follow in his eyes, he relaxes as a smirk tugs at his lips.

“It’s a good kind of pain, right Blondie?”

When you open your eyes, you meet his gaze with a glare, causing him to chuckle.

“Shut up, I don’t even know if I can stand,” you mumble as you press your palms against the mattress and sit up slowly.

Steve chuckles again, pride swelling inside of him, knowing that he was the cause of it. He gets up and walks around his room in nothing but boxers, opening one of his drawers to grab a shirt.

“I’ll prepare a bath for you to soak in then,” he says, glancing at you, “it’ll relax your muscles a little.”

Your heart skips a beat as your eyes widen.

You sit up further, still holding onto the sheets as you watch him put a shirt on his body.

“You’re preparing a bath for me?”

“Would you prefer a wheelchair?” He laughs, not noticing the stunned look on your face, as you open and close your mouth a few times. “I’ll be right back, Blondie,” he shoots you a smile before he opens the door, letting light seep into the room from the bright hallway, he takes another glance at you over his shoulder before he steps out and makes his way into the bathroom.

You listen to his movements, ears perking up at the sound of water flowing the bathtub, moments later.

He is really drawing you a bath.

He had never done anything like this before, the most you got was a change of clothes, him letting you use his shower and the spare toothbrush he had in his drawer, but never this.

This is him taking care of you and you can’t stop the smile from appearing on your face. Your heart flutters at the normalcy of all of this, despite how abnormal it is.

Surely, this has nothing to do with feelings, but with him wanting to make it up to you for making your body ache – not that you are complaining, last night was one of the best ones that you had shared with each other.

Despite the soreness in your body, you can’t help but feel heat pooling in your lower stomach, awakening the desire for him that always lingers.

You throw the blanket off yourself and scoot closer to the edge of the bed, furrowing your brows, you try not to groan at the pain in your legs when your feet hit the ground.

You have never experienced anything like this before.

You have never struggled to get up the next morning.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can’t even squeeze your thighs together, but you push through the soreness. Your knees nearly buckle when you take the first step.

“Jesus…” You murmur, shaking your head.

You never spent much time wondering what kind of lover Steve would be, until he started showing signs of interest towards you. It felt wrong to think of him in such ways when he so clearly hated you.

But if you had to guess, you would’ve thought of him as someone sweet and caring, loving and gentle – and you are sure that he is, just not with you. And it’s okay, it really is. You like the way he touches you, you like how he marks you up, how he manhandles you, how rough and intense he can be. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

And yet, you can’t help but feel saddened to know that you will never experience another side of him – to know what it’s like to be loved by him.

You walk into the large bathroom, to find him testing the water with his hand. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon lingers in the air, the bathtub is filled up high, even with bubbles.

You lean against the doorframe and watch him for a moment, a teasing smile appearing on your face, “huh, who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington likes to take bubble baths – scented ones too.”

Steve scoffs at your words in amusement.

He turns around to face you after closing the tap.

“It’s my mom’s stuff, Blondie,” he chuckles as he takes in the sight of you. Letting his eyes roam your body, the marks on your neck, the shirt that belongs to him, the softness of your skin that he wants to feel on his lips again. The urge to take care of you, now growing stronger than ever.

You have stayed over countless times before, just as he did at your house.

But neither of you ever stayed for long enough, you woke up, you got dressed and the most you have provided for each other was a cup of coffee and small talk.

This is something new, a bubble bath – he had never done this for anyone before, despite how much he dreamed of having someone to take care of and spoil.

“C’mere, Blondie,” he murmurs as he walks towards you, reaching his hand out for your own, he pulls you into him and places his other hand on your waist, “I promise, this will make you feel better.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart yet skipping another beat – if only he knew that it’s always aching for him.

He takes your shirt off, exposing your bare body to him. The spot beneath his touch glowing with heat as he now holds your naked waist with both hands.

Steve licks his lips as he looks down at you, his eyes blinking as they flash with something other than lust. There is a softness in them that you haven’t seen directed at you, ever before, and it makes your breathing stutter.

As the morning sun peeks through the blinds, the golden light kissing every inch of your exposed skin, he takes in the sight of how softly your hair lies on your shoulders, how flustered you look beneath his gaze, how puffy your lips are, how the marks on your neck are more than what you think they are.

His hands leave your waist, though they don’t stray away from you just yet. The tips of his fingers graze your skin. Whether the goosebumps are his cause or the coldness of the bathroom, his lips twitch at that. You look at him with wide eyes and parted lips, he is aware of the fluttering in his chest when he locks eyes with you.

You caught him staring, but for some reason it doesn’t make him want to step back or hide.

You are so devastatingly beautiful.

So beautiful that he can’t help but want to keep staring.

He is stuck in a world between the heavens and the earth, a world where it’s only you and him, where nothing else matters but the string that ties him to you, the string that he always wanted to deny, no matter how abnormally strong it was.

And even now, he is still in denial, he still isn’t there, but it’s slowly becoming harder to stay away from you in a much more intimate way.

“Steve,” you whisper, slowly pulling him back on solid ground.

He blinks, his eyelashes kissing his skin as he slowly awakens from his trance like state. The beating of his heart becomes stronger when he notices the softness in your eyes.

“Yes?” He whispers, squeezing your elbow as he feels the urge to shower your body with nothing but kisses, your bare skin looking so delicate to him.

“I-I’m cold.”

“R-Right,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

Steve steps to the side, and his hands leave your body, but he offers his hand out for you as you step closer to the bathtub. You take it, grasping it tightly as you lift your leg, pushing through the soreness, you get inside and let the warmth embrace your aching body. You sink down into the water, sighing in contentment at the comforting feeling. You slowly let go of his hand, and bring it up to your hair.

“Oh wait, you probably don’t want to get it wet again,” Steve mumbles, as he looks around the room, knowing that you left your hair clip here after your shower last night. He finds it on the counter and reaches for it.

“Oh yeah,” you nod, turning your head, you eye the claw clip in his hand and lift your hand up to take it from him, but Steve only shakes his head.

“Let me,” he whispers as he kneels down behind the bathtub, he gathers your hair and runs his fingers through it, making sure to get all of it, his fingertips touch your cheeks as he reaches for the front pieces as well, only for them to fall back in place.

You swallow harshly as your heart nearly leaps to your throat, his actions making the water feel ten times hotter, goosebumps growing on your skin even beneath it.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, his breath hitting your bare shoulder as he puts your hair up and secures it with the clip – effortlessly.

You’re a little caught off guard by… well everything.

“I-I…” You stutter, unable to form a word, let alone a sentence.

“I’ll go make you something,” he announces, squeezing your shoulders as he gets up again. He looks down at you, lips curling into a smile. You’re still sitting with your back straight, your body now hidden beneath the bubbles, the front pieces of your hair hanging loosely in front of your face, framing it perfectly. You are staring at him, eyes filled with surprise and nervousness. The latter emotion matches his own, he had never done these things for anyone before, not even Nancy.

She was his high school sweetheart, they were barely eighteen when they dated. She wasn’t allowed to stay over, and the few times she sneaked out of her house to do so, she went back home early in the mornings so she wouldn’t get caught, but he could count these few times on one hand.

He never prepared baths for her, he never did her hair, he never made her breakfast, he never touched and kissed her the way he did with you.

And despite the nervousness that is deep inside, he can’t help but feel a little giddy too. Heat rushes to his cheeks the longer he stares at you.

“Okay,” you whisper, blushing as you look up at him with a shy smile, “thank you, Steve.”

He nods at you, his own cheeks glowing with color, “you’re welcome, Blondie,” he winks at you, before he forces himself away from you. He turns around and walks out of the bathroom.

You stare at the door he just closed, your mouth ajar, your eyes wide.

Are you truly awake?

When he held you in his car last night, and he treated you so gently, you were already so caught off guard, but this, this is something else, this is something new, and you don’t know what to think of it.

You don’t want to get your hopes up, but you also don’t want to ruin the moment by overthinking, and hurting your own feelings.

So despite the gnawing feeling in your chest, you take a deep breath and close your eyes, you relax your shoulders and lean back, trying to enjoy this moment without your doubts getting in the way.

You breathe in the sweet scent and sink deeper into the hot water, relaxing as best as you can as you let your mind rest. You let the minutes pass, and enjoy only this moment, not letting your negativenss take over.

Your teenage self would jump and scream in joy if she saw you now.

Not only does he somewhat like you now, he also does things only a boyfriend would and should do, and you can’t help but love every second of it, even when the dark sadness tries to cast shadows over the golden lights that take over, every time you let yourself feel what you desire, deep down.

The water feels nice on your skin, and on your sore body, you almost don’t want to get out, but after a while, your tiredness seeps back in, and you begrudgingly push yourself out of the water, you wrap a towel around your body, and dry yourself off. You drain the bathtub and slide open the window to let some fresh air in, the fog from the heat lingering in the room and on the large mirror.

When you step out into the hallway, your mouth waters and you instantly feel the hollowness in your stomach when the smell of waffles reaches you. You haven’t eaten since your late lunch, the day before, and Steve had worn you out. You are starving.

You quickly make your way into his bedroom, surprised to see the bed already made.

He laid out some clothes for you, another one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers. A smile tugs at your lips, you hold the towel tightly against your chest as you make your way over to his bed. You remove the claw clip from your hair, and throw it on the mattress as you reach for his shirt.

It smells nice, clean, like fresh laundry detergent and still like him. Your heart always skips a beat when you wear something that belongs to him. Removing the towel, you put his shirt on and then his boxers, adjusting them a little so they fit you better. You walk over to his mirror, and take a look at yourself, a gasp nearly falling from your lips as you eye the marks on your neck, somehow they have gotten even darker. You will have trouble covering that up.

You fix your hair and smooth it out, before you leave the room and make your way towards the stairs. You truly underestimated the ache in your legs though, the moment you take the first step down, your knee nearly buckles, causing you to hold onto the railing a little tighter.

You don’t know how you make it to the kitchen, but after walking down in slow motion, you step into the large room slowly.

Steve is standing with his back to you, a plate of waffles before him as he pours batter into the waffle maker. He changed into a pair of gray sweatpants.

Your stomach growls at the sight and the smell of your favorite breakfast food.

He turns around when he sees you from his peripheral vision, a chuckle falling from his lips when he notices the pained look on your face.

“I need a break of two days,” you grumble as you make your way over to the kitchen table, “I’m not even going to suck your dick, your hand will suffice.”

Steve chuckles even louder than before, the smugness in his eyes fading away when he takes in the sight of his clothes on your body.

You groan loudly as you take a seat.

“Two days?” He asks, tilting his head at you, “you’re killing me here, Blondie.”

You raise your head and meet his gaze, glaring at him playfully, “my pussy feels like it’s going to fall off, Harrington.”

He looks down, hiding the smirk on his face, “she had a good time.”

You can’t help but snort.

You crane your neck, looking at the plate before him, excitement flashes in your eyes, “I love waffles.”

“I know you do,” he says, smiling. “What do you want with them, berries and syrup?”

You try to hide the blush that creeps up on your face, you try to swallow the feelings that take control of your body.

"Yes, please."

He nods at you, before he points at the coffee pot, “want some?”

“Mhmm. Creamer and two sugars–”

“I know how you like your coffee, Blondie.”

He doesn’t wait for your reaction, he turns his back to you, and he opens the cupboard, taking out the mug he for some reason always chooses for you, he places it on the counter and starts preparing your coffee.

You blink.

Straightening your back, you place your hands on the counter, fiddling with your fingers as you watch him.

He memorized how you like your coffee?

The fluttering in your chest starts driving you crazy, it’s nothing you’re not used to, but his kindness and the gentleness he treats you with this morning takes everything beyond what you had felt before.

A part of you wants to ask him if he hit his head, if he is mistaking you for someone else, or if the sex was so good that he somehow developed more than just lust for you.

But you don’t want to ruin the moment and risk losing this.

If you were a different girl, you could have this every day.

But you’re you, and you only get this now, maybe it’s a one time thing, or maybe it’s something new in your ‘relationship’, and if it is, you will cherish any moment he will give you, for as long as he is willing to have you.

Steve places the mug in front of you, blessing you with a sweet smile before he returns to finish the rest of the waffles as he pours the last of the batter into the maker.

“Thanks,” you mumble, wrapping your hands around the warm mug, you raise it up to your lips and take a sip.

Steve grabs a plate and begins to fill it up with fruit he already washed and prepared. He places the fresh waffles on the plate and grabs the bottle of syrup, he makes his way over to you, and places the plate in front of you.

You put the mug down and raise your head to look at him, “that looks so good,” you smile, pulling the plate closer and reaching for the fork.

Steve smiles back at you, his chest bubbling with something at the excitement in your features.

He places the syrup in front of you, and returns to the counter to fill up his own plate with berries and waffles. He grabs it and reaches for a jar in his cupboard before he makes his way back to you and joins you at the round table.

“That’s all for you, Blondie.” He points at the stacked up waffles he left on the counter.

“All for me?” You chuckle, before you take the first bite, eying the jar of nutella he placed on the table.

“Gotta get the energy back in you,” he smirks, watching your reaction as you start chewing. He licks his lip, smiling when your eyes widen.

“Oh my god, Steve.” You hold your hand in front of your mouth after swallowing the first bite, looking at him in awe.

“That’s how you sounded last night,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

You shake your head as you look into his hazel eyes, smirking at him despite the flustered look on your face, “I think the waffles are better.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, “oh?”

You nod, taking another bite.

He chuckles at you as he grabs the nutella, he opens the lid and picks up his butterknife. Scooping out some of the chocolate, he starts spreading it on his waffle.

“You eat your waffles with nutella?”

“Yeah, it tastes amazing, Blondie.”

“Does it?” You ask, tilting your head as you pop a berry into your mouth, you watch him. His brows furrow in concentration and his tongue pokes out between his lips. His hair is messy, slightly wavy even. He looks so cute like this. “I’ve never tried that before.”

He raises his head, looking at you in surprise, “you haven’t?”

You shake your head, “no, I don’t even remember the last time I had nutella, Eddie ate like the whole jar I had in my kitchen, he used it as a dip for his pretzels,” you chuckle, “and then he ate the rest with a spoon… I don’t know how he didn’t get sick.”

“Eddie could eat straight sugar, and he wouldn’t get sick, don’t know how he’s still healthy,” Steve chuckles as he cuts a piece of his waffle, he places a raspberry on top of it before he picks it up with a fork and surprises you yet again, when he offers you the bite, bringing the fork up to your mouth.

You nearly choke on the berry you just swallowed.

“Try it.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, and your heart nearly shoots out from its place.

He surely had never done anything like this before.

Ordering food and offering snacks after sex? Sure. Feeding you food from his plate? Never.

He looks at you expectedly, not even noticing just how flustered you are by such a small and simple action.

You blink, shaking off the nervousness that still lingers deep, you part your lips and lean closer to take the bite, you still look at his eyes and watch how he stares at your lips.

The sweetness of the waffle, the chocolate and the freshness of the berry, burst in your mouth, creating the perfect combination. Your eyes widen, and you sit back as you hold your hand in front of your mouth after releasing the fork from your lips. You moan at the taste and take your time savoring the flavors.

Steve’s lips curl into a smile, his soft eyes stare at you as he brings the fork back to his place, taking a bite of his food as well, he keeps his eyes locked on you, enjoying your presence more than ever, this morning.

Steve always eats his breakfast by himself, it has always been that way.

The few times his parents were home, they didn’t even bother to have family breakfasts, or dinner’s for that matter.

They would go out to have dinner at Enzo’s, and would leave a few dollar bills for him, so he could order takeout – as though he didn’t learn to cook for himself as a teenage boy, but his parents never knew that, and they still don’t. He hadn’t seen them in a while, and the last phone call must’ve been months back.

But he likes this, he likes having you around, he likes sitting at the kitchen table with you, like it’s the most normal thing for the both of you.

“Not to feed your ego, but these waffles are better than the ones at the diner… or even the ones my sister makes.”

He smiles at you, “really?”

“Mhmm,” you nod as you take a sip of your coffee.

“I uh, I tried a few different recipes, took me some time to find the perfect one,” he says, his smile now turning into a shy one, “one time, El showed up, she was all upset about something Mike said or did, poor girl was crying her eyes out. I was confused why she came here out of all places and I honestly didn’t know how to comfort a heartbroken teenage girl, but uh, all it took was some waffles to cheer her up,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck.

Your eyes soften, and your heart nearly bursts.

The teens have found a brother in him, and he takes care of them without hesitating to.

He is there for them when they need him, and despite the annoyance he feigns sometimes, he cares so much about them and would do anything to protect them from any kind of harm.

“That’s so sweet,” you whisper, smiling softly.

Steve blushes at your words, his own lips pulling into a soft smile.

“You’re such a mom,” you tease him, nudging your foot against his under the table.

“Last time I checked, I didn’t have a vagina. I think you know that fact pretty well.”

You giggle, and look down at your plate again, picking up the fork, you continue to eat your waffle, unaware of the softness in his eyes.

Steve’s lip twitches, he tries not to look at you for too long, but it gets difficult to keep his eyes off of you, because something in his chest, something in the very sacred spot he had been trying to keep safe opens just the slightest bit, light and warmth seeps into it, filling it with life again, making it move in a pace he had grown unfamiliar to.

The sun shines brightly into the window, light rays hit your skin perfectly, making your skin glow and your hair shine, the color in your eyes shining even brighter.

You sit across from him comfortably, eating the breakfast he made for you, happily. You look content, you look happy to be here, you look like you belong here, with him.

This feels comforting, this feels normal.

But it isn’t, this isn’t normal, and he can’t help but feel disappointed by the truth.

He looks down with a soft sigh, and continues eating too, trying to keep the negative thoughts and emotions at bay, not wanting anything to ruin the moment.

Steve keeps stealing glances at you, not noticing that you are doing the same, not feeling your eyes that always linger.

When you’re both done eating, you push yourself up from the chair, ignoring his confused looks, you gather the empty dishes and stack them up.

“Whoa, no no, put that down,” Steve shakes his head at you, he gets up as well, the chair scraping against the hardwood floor, “you’re my guest, you don’t have to clean.”

“Pfft.” You wave him off, carrying the plates over to the sink, you push through the soreness in your legs, “I want to help.”

Steve sighs behind you, “I can do it myself, you should rest your legs.”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes, putting his hands on his hips as he watches you.

You get the sponge and dish soap, and Steve nearly starts laughing when you tilt your head away and handle the lever carefully, opening the water slowly, clearly not wanting a repeat of the last time you washed the dishes here.

“I fixed the lever, don’t worry,” he chuckles.

“If you’re lying to me and I’m about to get wet again, I’m gonna fight you.”

Steve laughs, crossing his arms over his chest, “I got different methods of getting you wet now.”

You look back at him over your shoulder, giving him a glare.

He continues laughing, tearing his eyes away from you, he starts cleaning up the table, a smile lingering on his lips.

Comfortable silence hangs over the room, as you both move around the kitchen and clean up together.

You savor every moment with him, not knowing that he is doing the same now too.

“I owe you breakfast,” you speak up, after a while.

Steve wipes down the counter, glancing at you with raised brows, “I won’t say no to that, but you don’t owe me anything, I wanted to do this.”

You press your lips together, leaning against the counter behind you, “yeah, but still.”

He shakes his head with a smile, “nah, let me impress you with all my cooking skills first,” he smirks, making his way over to you, he throws the dish towel over his shoulder, “I can blow your mind with more than just sex.”

You furrow your brows, laughing at his words.

“Oh?” You tilt your head, “and where’d you learn how to cook?”

“My grandpa taught me some Italian dishes when he was still alive. And uh, my parents were never home and I got sick of eating pizza and burgers all the time, so I got myself a cookbook and uh, turns out I’m a pretty decent cook,” he chuckles, shrugging, “it’s the italian in me,” he jokes.

Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter as you walk towards him.

“You’re italian?”

He chuckles at the surprised look on your face.

“My dad’s side of the family is,” he explains.

“Huh, that’s where the charm comes from,” you joke, “can you speak Italian?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but the only thing Italian about me are my relatives,” he laughs.

“And your cooking skills,” you point out.

“And my cooking skills,” he smiles, nodding. “I’m gonna knock you off your feet, the next time you stay over, I’ll cook you the best pasta you ever had.”

Excitement bubbles in your stomach and your eyes light up. You can’t even push away the feelings inside of you.

“I’d like that,” you smile.

Steve’s eyes light up, his own smile growing.

“Yeah?”

You nod, swallowing the nervousness inside of you. You know that you shouldn’t get too close, that there are things that you shouldn’t do with him, knowing how it’ll end for you, but you can’t help it, you’re drawn to him, in every way and form.

“Cool, I can finally cook for someone other than the teens then,” he chuckles, as he steps closer to you, his hands now inching closer to yours on the counter.

“What about your parents? Do you cook for them when they’re home?”

Steve scoffs, and he rolls his eyes at the mention of them.

“No, even when they’re home, they aren’t really… home. That one time I tried to cook dinner for them, they ended up leaving on me, gave me some weak apology and told me that they had made plans with friends already.”

Your smile falls at his words. Your eyes soften and the aching in your chest returns, not for yourself this time, but for him.

You can’t imagine what it’s like to have parents that couldn’t care less about you. You don’t have yours anymore either, but only because they were taken from you, they always gave you love, they always cared for you. Steve’s parents are alive, and they want nothing to do with him, they don’t even know half of the things he’s been through.

“I haven’t seen them in a while, it’s nothing new, really. And things are different now, for me at least. But, I felt really alone in this house as a teen,” he explains, looking down. “Sometimes… they were gone for so long, that I even forgot what their voices sound like.”

You look into his eyes, into the sadness that lingers deep in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you whisper, wanting nothing more than to hug him, to hold him, to show him that there is someone who he means everything to. Your own sadness casts a shadow over you, but also the anger that you feel for the people who hurt him, that left him. How could they? How could they leave and abandon him? How could they not love him, when he is so easy to love?

You would give him everything if you could.

He scrunches his brows together, forcing a smile onto his lips as he shakes his head at you, “it’s okay,” he murmurs. “I-I accepted that they don’t care about me. I just uh, my dad’s words still hurt sometimes but uh, I’m pretty good at handling my emotions around him now,” he admits, feeling the weight on his shoulders falling off when he says these words out loud, “he’s good at making me feel like I’m nothing though,” he chuckles even though there is nothing amusing about that.

Your blood boils in your veins, your heart no longer beats softly in your chest. You feel the anger rushing through you, as you stare at the man in front of you, a man who was once a boy, left behind to fend for himself, left behind in this huge house that provided no comfort when he needed it, no love, no warmth, no one to hug him and tell him just how loved he is, how strong and brave he is for going through darkness.

He stepped into an empty house after fighting against evil.

He stepped into an empty house after getting his heart broken.

He had no one to come home to.

He had no one to greet him with open arms and a warm meal, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen.

And when they were there for once, he probably thought that walking into an empty house would’ve been better.

He is surprised to see the anger in your eyes, the downturned lips and the frown on your pretty face.

“It’s not okay,” you shake your head stubbornly, “they shouldn’t have left you, and they shouldn’t have treated you like that, they– they don’t deserve you,” you mumble and tilt your head down to hide the truth in your face, too scared that he will see right through you in this moment of weakness. “Your dad doesn’t deserve you, none of the people who hurt you do.”

Steve’s hazel eyes soften, his lips part, but no words come out.

He knows that your words are mainly about his family, but also about someone else who hurt him deeply, who left a huge wound in his heart, a mark that hasn’t faded yet.

There is a sense of vulnerability behind your voice, something that he only heard once, when you opened up to him, that one night. He watches the way you hide your face by keeping your eyes on the ground, but even then, he can see just how angry you are, and it makes him furrow his brows in confusion.

Why would you be so upset by him getting hurt?

Why would you care so much when you’re nothing but friends now?

“You’re–” you pause, as a shaky breath falls from your lips, and you slowly look up at him, staring into his soft eyes. You feel nervous to even utter the words that are about to come out of your mouth, but this doesn’t have to give away anything, this is you being a caring friend. “You’re too good for them, Steve, and you deserve so much better than what you’ve been given.”

His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes begin to burn as he takes in your words, he blinks and swallows harshly, trying to keep his calmness, when your eyes meet his again and he sees nothing but the truth in them. You weren’t just saying this to make him feel better, you weren’t trying to give him false comfort.

Now he is the one to hide his face from you, not wanting to show just how much you have touched his feelings. Your words cast a light over the deep lingering pain in his chest, he knows it won’t stay there forever, the light, but it’s enough to make his walls crumble.

In this very moment, Steve’s feelings go beyond desire, and he feels a longing of a different kind, one that he had never felt before, and it scares him, because it’s you, it’s still you. And yet, he can’t help but want to let himself fall into your arms, feeling like it could be a place of comfort and more.

And he wants to, he really wants to, but he can’t.

This isn’t a part of the deal.

He can’t hold you, he can’t find comfort in your arms, this isn’t what it’s supposed to be.

So, despite the longing in his chest, the deep feeling in him, the want and need to do something, he blinks out of his stupor, shaking away all the thoughts and feelings, he pulls his hand away from yours that he almost touched, he looks at you again, and gives you a small smile.

“Thank you, Blondie,” he whispers, “I appreciate that.”

I appreciate you.

“Don’t need to thank me, Steve,” you whisper.

You look over his shoulder, the clock on his wall almost startling you when you read the time.

“Oh wow, I uh, I should go home,” you mumble, not wanting to leave, but not wanting to stay longer and risking losing your dignity by revealing more than just your anger for the people who harmed his feelings.

You don’t notice the way his shoulders slump, the way he almost looks sad at your words.

“Yeah uh, I’ll drive you.”

“It’s fine, I can walk–”

He snorts and tilts his head at you, eyes flashing with amusement again, “can you?”

A laugh falls from your lips, you step away from him, rolling your eyes as you shake your head.

“Come on,” he places his hand on your shoulder, and he leads you out into the hallway.

“Are you still hosting movie night?”

“Uh huh. So, I guess you’re staying another night here,” he winks at you, squeezing your arm.

“I told you, I need some time to recover.”

“We don’t have to fuck, Blondie. You can let me eat your pussy though, it’ll help her recover.”

You scrunch your face up at his words, slapping his chest, you take a step away from him, “I never thought that you’d be such a perv.”

He chuckles behind you.

You look around his hallway, tucking your hair behind your ears, you furrow your brows, “wait, I don’t have shoes.”

“Yeah, we left them in the car last night,” Steve mumbles as he puts on his Nike's, “don’t think they’d suit that outfit very well anyways,” he laughs, pointing at his clothes on your body.

You pout as you turn around to face him, looking down at yourself, “wow, this is the real walk of shame.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle as he laughs again. He picks up his keys, and walks towards you, turning his back to you, he bends down, “hop on, princess.”

You purse your lips and stare at him with widened eyes.

The nickname might’ve been a mocking one, and yet it did everything to make your cheeks heat up and your stomach to make summersaults.

“Well, come on,” Steve waves his hand at you, motioning for you to get on his back.

You swallow and step closer, you slowly bring your hands up to his shoulders, sliding your palms down his chest, you make a little jump and bite back the groan that threatens to fall from your lips, the soreness in your legs seemingly getting worse and worse.

Steve grabs your thighs and rises back to full height, his lips curl into a smile when you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Good?” He asks, squeezing your thigh.

“Mhmm.”

“Good,” he nods.

He opens the door, and steps out, keeping his left hand on your thigh, he reaches his right hand out to shut the door.

“I got it,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, you close it as you keep your hold on him.

The summer breeze feels welcoming on your skin, the smell of flowers and grass lingers in the air. You look up and find no cloud in the sky, only the blue and bright sun.

Goosebumps arise on his skin where your breath hits his neck, his stomach fluttering when you tighten your legs around him.

He almost doesn’t want to let you go, but the journey to his car is a short one. He walks over to the drivers side first, unlocking it with his key before he makes his way over to the passenger side, he opens the door for you.

“Can’t remember the last time I gave someone a piggyback ride,” he chuckles, “probably when I was twelve, my little cousin would beg me for them.”

You giggle, squeezing his shoulder as he kneels down and steps closer to his car, so your feet won’t have to touch the rough ground.

“Well, I’m glad to be the first after so long,” you chuckle, you let go of him and place your hand on the head rest.

“Careful with your head,” Steve says with a soft voice as he puts you down.

You pull your legs back and scoot back, placing your feet down into the car.

“Okay, I’m good, thank you.”

Steve turns to face you, “ready to go?”

You nod.

“Alright, Blondie,” he gives you a tight lipped smile and taps the roof of his car before he closes the door.

You reach for the seatbelt, buckling it in as you take a deep breath, though instead of exhaling again, you freeze and your eyes widen. The smell of sex still lingers deeply in the car.

Blood rushes to your cheeks, the anger you felt in the kitchen only moments ago, now fading and transforming into embarrassment as you grow flustered.

You turn around and take a look at the backseats, the mess that you both left behind, only making you blush even deeper.

Steve gets into the driver's seat, jingling with the keys, he puts them into the ignition and fastens his seatbelt, before he glances at you.

You play with your fingers, coughing awkwardly as you look at anything but him. You are blushing.

It doesn’t take him long to realize why you are so flustered, and he can’t help but smirk at you. He grabs the steering wheel, and leans closer to you.

“Getting shy on me now?”

With narrowed eyes, you turn towards him as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Couldn’t you have taken five minutes to clean up a bit?”

His smirk only widens, eyes flashing with pride.

“You needed a shower and a bed, priorities Blondie,” he shrugs.

“Uh huh…” You turn around again, daring to take another glance at the mess, “also, my thong should be somewhere around here… You literally dragged me inside, full commando.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find your thong,” he chuckles, starting the car, he rolls down the window.

“You better, Lego Head.”

You relax into the seat, and turn your head away from him, looking out the window, you appreciate the warm feeling of the sun on your skin, and the sound of music filling the space between you.

Hungry like the wolf starts playing, and you almost want to chuckle at the irony – the song resembles the part of Steve you met last night.

“Always some Duran Duran song in your car.”

Steve nods, placing his hand on the back of your headrest, he looks over his shoulder as he backs out of his driveway. He glances at you with a grin, “yep, they’re great.”

He gives you a wink as he turns up the volume, he grabs the gearstick, and starts driving down the road, puckering his lips slightly as he starts headbanging along to the music, not bothering to move the hair out of his face when it falls in front of his eyes.

You can’t help but giggle when he starts singing along to the music.

Your heart flutters wildly, and you bite down on your lip as you watch him.

You realize something in this moment – his guard is down, right here, right now, he lets you have a glimpse of what he is like, when he’s relaxed, when he’s not hiding himself away from the world, when he isn’t too ashamed to show this side of him. He is willing to show a part of himself to you – someone he couldn’t even bare to be around, only months back.

And you cherish this moment, smiling brightly at the person you adore with all your heart.

You know that you will remember this, you just hope that it won’t be a painful memory.

You don’t want to get out of the car when he parks it in front of your house, you would love to keep driving around town with him, even without talking, you just want to be near him, you want to be with him, any moment he gives you with him.

But you have to go, and knowing that you will see him again later, brings you peace.

You see the way he looks at your lips when you say goodbye, you see the way his eyes flash with something your mind cannot comprehend yet, you see the way he lifts his hand up before he hesitates and wraps it around the steering wheel again. You see it all, and yet, you are still so blind about it.

He offers you another piggyback ride to your house, but you decline with a smile and give him one last goodbye before you get out of his car, and your bare feet touch the cobblestone. You bite back the groan, ignoring the pain in your legs, you shut the door and start walking, not feeling, not seeing his amused eyes as they follow your limping legs.

You make your way up to your porch, and unlock the door. You step inside and turn around.

Steve’s car is still parked in your driveway, his left arm hanging out of the window, he lifts his hand up, waving at you.

A smile tugs at your lips, he waited for you to get inside. You lift your hand up as well, waving back.

The moment he starts backing out of your driveway, you close the door and lean your back against it, not noticing the breath you are holding.

You press your palm against your racing heart, and let all your emotions run through you, as your mind races with thoughts about everything that happened this morning and the night before.

You’re caught in a storm of your own feelings, you don’t even know what to feel, at this very moment.

There are so many things to process.

Steve’s jealousy and how he reacted to Jacob.

The possessiveness he had felt over you, and how eager he was to prove to you that he is the only one that you need.

The gentleness that followed after, that followed into this morning, even.

He trusted you enough to talk about his parents, to open up about his loneliness and the sadness that still lingers.

You bury your face in your hands, and let out a loud sigh as you feel sadness and anger combining themselves inside of you.

You throw your head back against the door, and you take another deep breath.

You need to rest, not only your mind, but also your aching body, so you push yourself away from the door, and take a look at the stairs, frowning at the many steps you would have to take to get to your bedroom.

You choose the closer room, and make your way into the living room instead.

The big couch looks welcoming, the comforting pillows luring you in for a nap. You glance at the clock on the wall, it’s only 3pm, you still have time before you need to start getting ready.

Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV, and plop down on the couch, sinking into the pillows and hoping for your mind to give you some rest, at least until you see him again.

You put on some show to watch, but your eyes don’t stay focused for long, sleep begins to lull you in, putting both your mind and body at rest as your eyes slowly close.

You end up running late, because of your stupid decision not to set an alarm – and because you may or may not have used your sweet time getting ready, always wanting to look perfect for him, always wanting to smell good and your skin to be smooth.

You also needed some time to figure out how to cover the marks up on your neck, which turned out to be a challenge. Foundation and concealer lies on your skin now, and yet you can still see through it.

Steve greets you with a smug smile and a wink, he eyes you up and down hungrily before he lets you in, not even questioning why you’re an hour late, the tiredness in your eyes is a dead giveaway.

The smell of smoke lingers in his house, the door to his backyard is wide open, and you find Eddie standing behind Steve’s grill, talking to Jonathan and Nancy.

You hear Robin’s and Argyle’s voices coming from the kitchen, but the sight of the teens is missing.

“What happened to movie night?” You ask, and turn to face him, “and where are the teens?”

“They canceled on us,” Steve chuckles, looking around the empty hallway, before he steps closer to you, “some movie came out that they really wanted to see.”

“Oh–”

Steve wraps his arm around your waist, surprising you by pulling you into his chest, he slides his palm down your lower back.

Your eyes widen a little as you look into his, the smell of his cologne lingering on him and his clothes, his hair is perfectly styled again – perfect to be ruined by your hands.

“Steve,” you whisper as your cheeks heat up.

“Are you feeling okay, Blondie?” He asks, hand coming to a rest over the pockets on your jean shorts.

No, no you don’t feel okay when he does things like this.

“Mhmm,” you nod.

The look in his eyes is a smug one, his lips are curled into a satisfied smirk when he takes a look at your neck – his touches and glances are already setting your skin on fire, and you have only arrived.

His hand leaves your body, and he steps away from you when the sound of footsteps near the hallway.

You clear your throat, and turn your face away from him, just as Robin comes out of the kitchen, plates and glasses. Her eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Oh, hey!” She grins at you, “are you feeling better today?”

You nod, feeling bad about lying to your friends – but when have you ever been honest?

“Much better.”

“Good, I’m glad,” she nods, “we decided to do a barbecue instead of movie night, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“Very, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Steve smiles beside you – something that Robin doesn’t notice, despite the very deep curiosity that still lingers inside of her when it comes to Steve’s secret.

“Come on, we set everything up already,” Steve says with a soft voice as he gestures to the backyard.

“Yeah, Argyle is attempting to make cocktails.”

You give them both an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry I didn’t help, I passed out on the couch earlier and forgot to set an alarm.”

“Nah, it’s fine, Blondie. You needed your rest,” Steve mumbles, giving you a sly smirk that he hides from his best friend.

“Yeah, and we had enough hands to help out!” Robin smiles, “it was spontaneous anyways!”

She is so unaware of the meaning behind Steve’s words, and you are glad that she is.

“I’ll make sure to make it up with some dessert next time,” you chuckle.

You all step out into his backyard, the evening sun is hidden behind all the trees surrounding his backyard. The round table is almost fully set up with food, the mouth watering smell of barbecue makes your stomach growl.

Robin places the drinks on the table.

Steve taps your shoulder, and he leans closer to you, “take a seat, your legs are still shaky,” he teases, giving you a wink before he steps away from you, “I’m gonna get the drinks, I’ll be right back.”

You breathe in shakily.

You already know that Steve will tease the life out of you tonight.

And you don’t know if you have the strength to tease him back at all.

“Oh hello there, sweetheart.” Eddie grins at you, making his way over as he carries the tray of grilled meat, he walks past you and places it on the table, before he turns back to you.

“Hey, Eddie,” you smile as you eye his hair, he put it up today.

“How are you?” He asks, tilting his head.

You don’t know what it is, but something about his smile and the look on his face, is almost a little unsettling.

“I’m uh… I’m good, how are you?”

“Mhmm, I’m good too. You know, I was kinda worried about you, last night. You just disappeared.”

Guilt settles into the pit of your stomach, and you break eye contact, hating that you have to lie to your best friend just to keep him.

“Yeah uh, I’m sorry,” you mumble, scrunching your nose, “I-I was feeling sick, Steve drove me home.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “ah Steve, huh?”

You swallow, the nervousness inside of you growing.

“Yeah,” you nod, and look back at him.

A knowing look resides in his dark eyes, he squints them a little, like he always does when he tries to look into your mind.

And there is something else, something that makes you feel exposed and vulnerable, you don’t know what it is, but it does nothing to ease the nervousness inside of you.

Maybe you’re looking too deeply into something that isn’t even there.

Maybe you just try to focus on something other than your troubled feelings.

Or maybe, you’re just overthinking because you are so scared of getting caught, knowing that things will end, the moment everything is out in the open.

But, Eddie eases your mind a little, when the playfulness returns in his eyes, “I just don’t want Steve to steal my best friend.”

You nearly breathe out a sigh of relief, you laugh and shake your head, “don’t worry, Lego head’s got nothing on you.”

“Exactly, we’re best friends forever,” he grins, throwing his arm around you, “we should get matching bracelets.”

You snort.

“So everyone knows that I got the coolest best friend.”

“Sure, Eddie,” you chuckle, patting his back as he leads you to the table, and you both join Robin, taking the seats beside her.

She’s holding a bottle of ketchup, a concentrated look resting in her eyes as she reads through the ingredient list.

“Wow, do you guys wanna know what’s in this?” She asks, looking between you and Eddie.

He furrows his brows, and scratches the back of his neck, “uh, not really,” he mumbles, giving her a weird look, before he glances at you, causing you to chuckle again.

Nancy and Jonathan greet you, she gives you a kind smile, while Jonathan gives you a lazy one and a very slurred ‘hello’.

Your eyes follow Steve’s, once he and Argyle step out of the house, and join you all at the table.

Steve takes the seat next to Eddie, and you can’t help but turn your head to look at him, though your eyes get stuck on something else – the bright pink scrunchie that holds Eddie’s curls together. It looks like one of yours, one that has gone missing, only days after you bought it on your first shopping trip with Nancy.

She has the same one, only a different color, but hers is in her hair, and yours is… in Eddie’s hair.

“You stole my scrunchie!” You gasp, frowning at Eddie, who’s in the middle of filling his plate with food.

He glances at you with an amused look in his eyes.

“Oops,” he shrugs, grinning.

“You thief!”

“Well, you have my bandana! I get to have something of yours!”

“My pink polka dot scrunchie? That’s what you chose!?”

He chuckles and nods, “yes, and it gives an edge to my outfit, don’t you think?”

Your lips curl into a smile, you roll your eyes at your best friend.

“Uh oh, first fight between the best friends!” Argyle jokes, “gotta bring out the palmtree delight, my friends!” He picks out a joint from his pocket.

Steve laughs at Argyle, and at your interaction with Eddie. He leans back to look at the pink scrunchie in his hair, furrowing his brows, he shrugs at him, “I think it suits you.”

“Thanks Harrington, I’m glad that one of my friends thinks so.”

Robin clears her throat, tilting her head at him, “Eddie, it’s– it’s pink and well–”

Eddie presses his palm against his chest, glancing at her with offense on his face, “are you telling me that I can’t wear pink, Buckley?” He gasps, closing his eyes, “that is absolute discrimination.”

You laugh at his dramatic words, you lean closer to him and place your hand on his shoulder, “it’s okay, Eddie. You can keep it.”

He drops his act, and opens his eyes again, giving you a smile, “well thanks, sweetheart, I promise, I won’t leave it laying around somewhere.” He winks at you, and glances at Steve, for a very brief moment.

The night goes on, the way it normally does, you fall into conversations, you eat and drink, you laugh and share stories.

The longing feeling in your chest always stays, and your eyes keep moving back to him, it isn’t anything you aren’t used to, and sometimes it’s even a pleasant feeling when you find him looking back at you.

But you also cherish these moments, spending time with people you can now call friends. A circle you never thought, would even be possible for you to have.

The Upside Down is now in the past, the events from the horrific night, now long gone – and yet, you all still stick to the weekly group hangouts.

It has become something very important to all of you – this friend group has become something so special. And you love it, but it scares you, it scares you so very deeply, because of the someone that holds your heart in the palm of his hand.

You know that you will lose them, that you will lose this, that you won’t have this group of friends forever, no matter how much you would like it to stay a part of your life.

The moment this thing between you and Steve will be over, you won’t only lose him, you will also lose them, and that realization feels like a punch to your gut.

You have no family, you’ve been alone for years now, and it has been the worst years of your life, you were lonely and hurting deep inside, but the past few weeks, have been one of the best ones, you have never felt more alive, more happy, despite the sadness that always looms over your heart.

But the happiness isn’t here to stay, it’s only temporary, it’s only here for the moment, it’s only here for as long as he is willing to keep you.

The moment he closes the door, you will be left a worse mess than ever before.

Eddie watches you.

Eddie watches as you move around Steve’s kitchen as though it’s your own, cleaning plates and putting them away, while Steve is wiping down the table outside.

Everyone has left, everyone except for you and him.

He is sipping on his coke, his eyes not straying away from you as he watches curiously.

Steve walks back inside, he shuts the sliding door and turns off the lights in the backyard, before he joins you both in the kitchen. He glances at him as he brushes past him, carrying the last two glasses, he places his hand on your shoulder as he puts them into the skin.

“Eddie, you uh, you don’t have to stay back and clean,” Steve mumbles, turning back to him.

Eddie chuckles.

“Clean? Just want to stay a bit longer with my friends,” he shrugs, looking back at you, “with my best friend in particular.”

He sees the way you freeze, the way you slowly turn back to him with a frown on your face.

“What?”

He puts down his drink, and gets up from the barstool.

Without a single word, he motions for you both to follow him, unable to keep things to himself any longer.

You both hesitate, but follow him, after a moment, giving each other confused looks when he leads you upstairs and into Steve’s bedroom.

He stops in the middle of the dark room, Steve switches the light on, and he shakes his head at the metalhead, pure confusion takes over his face when Eddie smiles smugly at the both of you.

“See… I lied a little bit before,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “I didn’t steal your scrunchie.”

Eddie almost wants to laugh at the comical frown on your face, and how you throw your hand up to point at his hair, while Steve looks at you.

“What the fuck do you mean!? It’s in your hair, Eddie!”

He nods, scoffing slightly as he starts to take it out, letting his hair fall loose around his face, “well you see, I didn’t steal it, rather, I found it. Right–” He pauses as he walks over further into Steve’s room, turning away from the both of you, he slams the scrunchie on the dresser and turns back, the smile now missing, “--Here.”

You freeze, completely.

You don’t even feel the fear rushing through you, or the shock that grips at your body, you stare at Eddie dumbfounded.

The feelings inside of you earlier, weren’t for nothing, after all.

He knows.

He knows everything.

He found out about you both, he found out because you weren’t careful, because you were dumb, because you made a stupid mistake.

Steve blinks.

Blood rushes to his cheeks and raises his hands up at Eddie, shaking his head, “okay listen, this isn’t–”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him, and somehow that’s enough to make Steve shut up – for a second.

Steve huffs, lowering his hands to his hips, he takes a deep breath.

“We are not – look, this is just coincidence.”

“Right!” Eddie spits in a rough voice, nearly yelling as he glares at the both of you, “like the coincidence of you two not being able to hang out at the same time on some nights where we are all together? Coincidence of you–” he points an angry finger at you, “having hickeys all over you, and you–” he moves his attention on Steve, “having scratches on your fucking arms and back!”

He shakes his head again, and glances at you, “coincidence like last night, when I thought that you left with Jacob only to find out that you left with Steve – oh, oh! And not because you were feeling sick! You two have been screwing around and coming up with the shittiest dumbest lies, I mean Heidi and Chandler, are you fucking serious?”

You look down, hiding your face from your best friend.

You feel ashamed for lying to him.

You feel scared to lose him now.

Steve is quiet beside you, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he stares at Eddie.

“You are both so goddamn obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t figure this shit out before!” He laughs in disbelief. “You always look like you’re ready to jump each other’s bones – jesus christ.”

“Dude,” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “it’s just, we uh, we wanted to keep this a secret but uh… guess we should’ve been more careful.”

Eddie throws his arms up, looking between you bewildered, “uh huh, so you went from hating each other to being lovesick, horny idiots?” He snort, not quite believing what he’s seeing, what he’s hearing, “so, are you two gonna keep lying, or finally admit to me that you are dating?”

Your eyes widen, and your head snaps up, your lips parting in surprise.

“Dating?” Steve scoffs, chuckling a little as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Fuck no, it’s just sex.”

Eddie opens his mouth again, but his words get caught in his throat when he glances at you, and sees the look on your face, the pained frown, the sadness in your eyes and the way the tension in your shoulders falls. You lower your head, and stare blankly at the floor, not saying a single word.

He had seen you like this before.

He had seen this sadness before – that night when Steve had lost his temper, and he hit you with harsh words.

I would be surprised if anyone ever loved you at all.

Oh.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, the realization that floods through him, isn’t easy on him when he sees just how hurt you are by Steve’s words.

There is only one lovesick person in this room, and it isn’t Steve.

He nearly wants to growl at him, slam him against the wall and tell him to stay away from you.

“Look, we’re just having fun, and we didn’t want this to get in the way of things… so… it’s just between Blondie and I,” Steve shrugs, unaware of the anger that boils inside of the man before him. “We’re causing no harm.”

Right, no harm at all.

It’s only your heart that he’s breaking.

Eddie doesn’t even need the confirmation, he can read you like an open book.

“Right?” Steve nudges your shoulder.

You nod, “right.”

“So uh… I think it should stay between us,” Steve points between you and himself, not seeing the look on your face, not seeing the look on Eddie’s face. “And uh, it’d be nice if you kept this to yourself.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie nods, clenching his jaw.

He can tell that you don’t want to be here anymore, that you’re getting restless as you begin to bounce your knee and to blink quickly.

You want to go, and Eddie does too – or else he will do something that he will come to regret.

“Yeah well, you keep doing your thing then,” Eddie mumbles, unable to look at him for longer than a second, before the anger worsens, “I don’t know how I feel about this, but uh, it’s none of my business. Just please stop lying to me.”

Steve runs his fingers through his hair, sighing, “yeah, sure.”

“I should go now,” Eddie mumbles, and he glances at you again, pointing his finger at your face, “and you’re coming with me.”

He gives you a stern look, one that stops Steve from asking any questions, from asking you to stay.

Eddie doesn’t want to leave you with the guy, that is clearly hurting you. He might not know it, but Eddie isn’t blind, and he knows that you staying here won't end well tonight, because the pain in your features is way too visible, and he can tell that you don’t want Steve to see, by the way you're hiding your face from him.

Eddie blinks, not realizing that he is still glaring at Steve, his protectiveness growing stronger in him.

“Alright, let’s go,” he mumbles.

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning around, you keep your head low, “bye Steve.”

He watches you both closely, the way you quickly make your way out of his room and into the hallway, hurrying down the stairs like you’re running away from something – like you’re running away from him.

And Steve, he opens his mouth as his eyes follow you, but he shuts it again, his throat bobs as he swallows. His shoulders fall and a sigh falls from his lips.

Eddie steps closer to him, and Steve turns to face him, he raises his brows at the warning look in Eddie’s deep brown eyes.

“I’m going to kick your ass if you hurt her, Harrington.”

Steve has never been afraid of Eddie – well, maybe those two times when he slammed him against the wall.

“It’s just sex, Munson,” he says, with an unsure tone in his voice, and a bitter taste on his tongue, that he swallows harshly. “Nothing more.”

If Eddie wasn’t so focused on your feelings and on the anger in him, he would’ve seen something other than lies in Steve’s eyes.

“Mhmm, right.” Eddie nods, and steps away from him. “Well, good night.”

He wants to stay longer, to interrogate him further and find out more, but talking to you is more important to him now, so he follows you, hoping that you didn’t make a quick escape already.

But he finds you in the driveway, with your arms crossed over your chest, you lean against your car as you wait for him.

Eddie approaches you slowly, not needing to make up his mind about what question to ask first – it already lies on the tip of his tongue.

You drum your fingers against your elbow, your knee still bounces, your chest heaves up and down heavily.

No words are spoken when he finally halts in front of you, the only sound between you both is your breathing, the wind rustling in the trees and the crickets.

You look at Eddie through your lashes, nervous to even say a single word.

He pities you in this very moment, because he knows how you feel.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“What?” You ask in a small voice.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re in love with Steve?”

You draw back, and your eyes widen.

You knew that he would confront you, but you didn’t expect him to confront you like this.

Your heart drops to your stomach, as the lump in your throat grows.

“I-I…” You stutter, shaking your head at him as you search for words in your mind, for lies to feed him, so your heart can rest, but your mind is empty, the lies are gone, and all you can do is panic as your eyes start burning, “I don’t… I’m not…” You can’t even utter those words, you can’t even lie to save yourself, you can’t even say that you aren’t in love with him, because saying that, would hurt more than this reality.

And yet, you still want to deny, but all you can do is shake your head.

Eddie’s eyes soften, he sighs when he sees just how much pain there is in your glassy eyes.

Eddie knows that there is more, much more.

These feelings aren’t newfound, these feelings are so very deep, these feelings are years old.

He licks his lips, and takes a deep breath.

“That’s why you jumped into the lake with no doubt, that’s why you grabbed him at the hospital, that’s who you got all dressed up for at Hopper’s and Joyce’s party,” he pauses as his face saddens, “that’s why you looked like the world fucking collided when he said it’s just sex.”

A tear falls from your eyes, and slips down your cheek.

Your bottom lip begins to quiver in fear, knowing that this very fragile thing between you and Steve, is now even more frail than before.

You’re a little shocked by how perceptive Eddie is of you, just how Billy was.

He takes a step closer to you, bringing his hand up to your shoulder, hoping to bring you comfort.

“Eddie,” you whisper with a trembling voice as you look into his eyes through your blurred vision, “p-please don’t tell anyone… I-I will lose him if the others find out. And this is the only way I can have him.”

Eddie’s heart breaks for you, the desperation in your eyes and your voice, your words showing him just how deep your feelings are.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he sighs, tilting his head, “for how long?”

You hesitate, not knowing how to save yourself from this humiliation.

But, Eddie’s eyes are filled with kindness, you know that he won’t judge you.

You breathe in shakily, another tear rolls down your cheek, but you quickly raise your hand up to your face, and wipe it away.

“Since we were teens…”

Eddie’s eyes widen, his lips part in shock.

The revelation isn’t something he expected at all.

He knows how Steve treated you, he knows how awful his words were, sometimes. – He knows that King Steve never once bit his tongue, the presence of his friends only made his words more cruel.

He fell victim to it, and you did too.

Neither of you hesitated to bite back though, and Eddie always tried to brush his words off, you always acted like you did too. – He wasn’t your friend in high school, but he was no stranger to seeing you bicker with King Steve during classes or in the hallway. He was always impressed by your witty words, and your funny insults.

He could’ve never guessed that you were wearing a mask, that those words were only weapons to defend yourself with, to hide behind them, to keep your true feelings a secret.

You were so good at acting like you didn’t care, like Steve was someone you hated, like your heart didn’t break, every time you faced him.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, sadly.

You shake your head, and huff at yourself. You raise your hand towards your face, waving it as a pained chuckle falls from your lips, “you must think I’m pathetic,” you murmur, rolling your eyes, the tears still deeply visible, “falling for a guy who fucking hated me for years? That’s just… I’m setting myself up for failure.”

Eddie can tell that you are trying not to break down while you’re still here, still in Steve’s driveway, where he could see you at any given moment.

“You’re not pathetic,” he frowns, squeezing your shoulder, “we don’t choose the people we fall in love with, it’s not in our control.”

And if it was, you still would’ve chosen him.

That makes you pathetic.

“I am pathetic. If I had some dignity, I wouldn’t do this with him. I shouldn’t do this with him, I know how it will end, Eddie.”

“Don’t talk down on yourself,” he mumbles, glaring at you. “Shit, I don’t even blame you, I would’ve done the same thing if I was in that situation.”

You breathe in shakily, blinking fastly as you feel your breakdown approaching.

“I-I just, I wanna go home, right now. I can’t–”

“Hey,” Eddie whispers softly. His kind eyes and his presence being the only comfort for you now. “Want me to go with you? You can talk to me, sweets. You know that.”

“Yes please,” you whisper, not wanting to be alone now after all of this.

“Do you feel okay to drive?” He asks.

You nod.

“Okay, let’s go then.”

Eddie steps away from you, he gives you a small smile before he walks away and towards his car.

You hesitate, and look back towards Steve’s house, looking into the window where the light is on. Your heart feels heavy, it longs for him, but there is so much sadness inside of you.

You’re not stupid, you knew how he felt about you, you knew what this was to him, you knew he never wanted more, he will never want more.

You know how this will end.

You know it.

But he blessed you with a glimpse of hope, this morning, only to crush it again by night.

You knew the moment of happiness was short, but you didn’t think that it would be this short.

You didn’t think that this night would be so much different from the one before.

You didn’t think that it would end with you sobbing into your best friend’s chest.

You didn’t know yet, that it wouldn’t be the last time that you would do that.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @maroon-cardigan @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @ibellcipem @corrodedcorpses @agirlwholovesrockstars

#dwoht -- chapter thirteen #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #stranger things angst

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aveloka-draws · 22 days

Note

I love your artstyle and the way you draw the bishops and other followers! What inspired you to go with your current artstyle? And how hard was it to figure it out?

Also what was your first impression of every bishop when you met them? How did you get into cult of the lamb?

Sorry if it's a lot of questions! I just love seeing your illustrations every time you post! Your comics and character interactions are really cool and interesting and I just want you to know that! Keep up the good work :]!!!

Awww thank you so much for sticking around through the cotl brain rot! It's only getting worse help me

Honestly no clue cause it started like this pfff lots of trial and error as with everything i guess

I first knew of cotl from the animations! and learning more about it during its development made me fall in love with the concept. When it finally came out i was so happy that it was as good as i was hoping n.n

#ask a bird

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martian-astro · 1 month

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Solar return observations

(the artist is @eb_hua on twitter)

Saturn in 10th is a frustrating placement (my mom had it last year and basically with this you feel financially helpless, you keep on trying and trying but nothing works, but the good thing is that 2-3 months before your next birthday, you're gonna hit the jackpot, so don't worry too much) (my sister also has it this year)

I have noticed that in every solar return chart that I've looked at, the chiron was in conjunction with the north node and it has happened way too many times for me to call it a coincidence. (do you have it as well, let me know) (according to my observations, the house that it's in represents the area where you'll experience pain but also by the end of the year, you're gonna be able to deal with the themes of that house in a better way, am I making sense??) just let me know if you have any questions about this placement, I think it's very common

The year in which you have a gemini AC, you will focus a lot on building your professional network, a lot of communication, short distance travel and improving your relationship with your siblings, if you have any. (my sister has it this year and her master's will end on 29th April, she has applied to many places for a job and she's also coming to visit me, I'M GOING TO MEET HER AFTER 5 FUCKING YEARS😁😁)

Mars in 12th indicates a low libido, a very exhausting year in general, if you also have sun in 1st then... It can be pretty bad (it's like you KNOW that you need to stop procrastinating, but you really can't help it, so you look calm on the outside but your brain is like AKDHSGHSKGSKJDJK)

Jupiter in 10th in aries is a REALLY GOOD placement. (you get the courage to go after what you want, especially in terms of career) and if Jupiter is Trine/sextile with saturn, then it's even better

Uranus in 5th can mean having flings with people that are not your usual type. (one of my friends came to Italy this year, and the first thing she did was hook up with an Italian guy 😭😭, she's Indian)

Aries in 2nd is an impulsive shopping placement (if you have it and you think you need something, you don't) (one of my friends had this last year and he bought a hat for €150...... Yeah. He has saturn in 2nd this year and he's finally facing the consequences of his actions)

I know that saturn in 8th is associated with difficulties in sex and intimacy but there's another side to it (a lot of my friends have had this, and they became really mature about sexual matters, like if they were previously very into the hook up culture then that year they were more cautious and had this "I'm going to have sex with the person who I genuinely like or love" mentality)

This is very shocking but I looked at the solar returns of all the married couples I know and the year in which they got married, NONE OF THEM had a 7th house stellium 💀💀. For men, I didn't notice a pattern, but for women, 90% of them had Venus positively aspecting saturn (mostly, Trine and sextile but 2 had a conjunction)

My favorite solar return placement has to be mercury conjunct Jupiter, if its happening in capricorn or virgo, then you're really precise and direct with your words, a very leader type aura for that year. If it's in libra, then good for flirting and talking to your crush, there's a high chance they'll fall for your charms. If it's in pisces, then it's your sign to start a cult.

(all pictures are taken from Pinterest)

#astrology content #astrology #astroblr #astrology community #solar return observations #solar return chart #solar return #astrology observations

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thatdeadaquarius · 10 months

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Genshin Impact Sagau/Isekai:

You still have acces to characters! ...by possessing them. 👻

PART 2 (you're here!) / Part 1

All art by me! :] leave me a iced coffee?? :0

HEY!! REALLY QUICK PLEASE READ!

STOP tagging my posts as "Yandere Sagau", "Sagau Cult AU", "Sagau Imposter AU" or other related dark content tags.

I'm sick of seeing reblogs that tag my work as dark content, when I'm specifically trying to LIGHTEN UP THE SAGAU TAG 😭😭??

Please be more respectful of this. Actually read the work before you just tag it incorrectly. Tags do matter.

/nm /gen

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)

Planet: Misc. Genshin AUs

Orbit: Headcanons, Scenarios

Stars: Tighnari ft. Cyno, Alhaitham, Collei

Comets & Meteors:

Content Warnings: Mild violence (bandit attacks/non-graphic), Reader/you possess people non-consent (mild/consent given eventually)

& Trigger Warnings: Reader/"you" possess people non-consenually for short times, but given consent eventually.

(pls comment if any more!)

Edit 9/7/23: 1,000+ NOTES?? WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY- THANK YOU???

Edit 12/24/23 + 4/5/24:

☆

My goofy ass forgot to put this here .-.

Anyway this is a full length fanfic now ;)

…mistakes were made.

bad decisions were had, and okay, mayyybbbeee you could’ve taken more precautions against people finding out you were “real”.

afterall, you did see the Eremites reaction, even if it was only two guys (one from each camp) that you possessed :/

word spreads quickly amongst the Eremites groups, you guess, bc next thing you knew, after you’d moved closer to floating around Gandharva Ville,

they’d called that entire bit of forest haunted.

BUT IN YOUR DEFENSE-!! how were you supposed to know they’d blab to the whole camp they didn’t remember the past 20 minutes after you unpossessed them?? and immediately be on guard and jump to possession?? (Irminsul works hard but eremites/sumeru people work harder u guess)

And by the time you were happily patrolling with Collei, the forest rangers were just so chill you didn’t really expect anybody would think a ghost was possessing them (or whatever you were now… maybe,, just code?? it’s unclear)

so when u start to see Tighnari squint at people who’ve technically just “woken up” after you possessed them, mumbling under his breath more and more as a file he carries around gets thicker and thicker-

you start to think,,, maybe.

okay, mayyybbbeee,

you’ve fucked up.

◇

You really can’t help it, first it was making sure Collei got back safely from patrols (she’s ur skrunkly okay, you can’t help it, you’re still aware she’s capable but- the urge to skrunkle overpowers you- )

but then-!! You managed to spot Cyno! :D its ur boy!! ur little meow meow, who can throw people over his shoulder!! He really doesn’t need you, hovering around, but eh ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

what could it hurt! …it’s not like he can see, hear, or feel you anyway…

(unless u possess some animal/machine he thinks is friendly, which. sumeru is not exactly known for cuddly creatures. you don’t feel like experiencing death when possessing stuff just yet-)

imagine ur panic and shock as the General Mahamatra takes on a camp of criminals on the run, only for one of the old ruin machines (the ones that are just LEG and DEATH)

to hear the ruckus and come stomping around a thick patch of trees, it launched missiles!! You can’t warn Cyno, he can’t hear you!! No one can!!! The criminals are unconscious, there’s no other wildlife nearby they all ran off!!! FUCK-

You look at him and try to imagine his perspective as vividly as you can, he’s looking over the criminals, but now he’s turning, so people passed out and the tree-line got it-

Congratulations! You’ve possessed Cyno. 💀

It completely disorients you for a second, but then the panic of dodging the missiles comes back in time for you to make his body dive and roll off to the side, for as long as you can manage a roll too since you remember that’s the best way to dodge missiles in the game

…which works really well! bc he’s so fit and agile tbh

It was weird to finally run again after so long (two months now in teyvat?? wow)

with your feet suddenly in sandals, and feeling the breeze chilling your bare chest (Cyno’s chest??)

yeah its a shock considering most of the ppl you’ve possessed lately have been fully clothed rangers lol

you quickly imagine your ghostly form again, and just like that you’re drifting out of Cyno in ur “ghosty” form, having floated out and away from his back

Poor guy looks so fucking confused, and immediately is wielding his spear again, and is about to get out the crouch you put him in behind the dilapidated stone wall (dammit he better not waste ur efforts to keep him alive-)

until missiles slam and explode against it, he ducks back down (thank fuck) and Cyno just looks around one last time before hopping the wall and running to fight the thing

you notice that when the electro user goes to use his powers, they seem stronger than they were in his fight with the goons??

Maybe he was just going easier on them, since they are only human?

…so why does even Cyno look surprised when he goes to make a simple swipe with his charged spear and a bolt of lightning cracks out from his spear instead…?

…weird.

◇

Tighnari knows you’re here.

You figure he must have collected the reports of people “blacking out” or “sleep-walking” or whatever else and begun to suspect the worst.

…to be honest, you’re not sure what to do.

on one hand, it would be great to have someone know you actually exist, as yourself,

but on the other…

What would Tighnari think?

Of you possessing his rangers?? Temporarily taking ownership of someone without permission??? You’re afraid he’d think the worst of you…

tho u didn’t do so often, as u realized how messed up this could be, and u never did more than make them walk or talk normally for a few minutes before leaving them alone!

… afterall, you missed interacting with people. You were honestly a little worried abt going crazy, which is the only reason u were desperate enough to possess human people in the first place and continue doing so, just to talk to someone and have them look you in the face again like you really did exist as a person here-

(u thought u remember reading somewhere back on Earth that someone can only last 3 days of no other human contact until they start to lose it? but even if that’s not true, at the very least, u dont think talking one-sidedly to yourself all the time is healthy…)

so when Tighnari seems to get that file you’ve seen him adding onto, and gather up supplies, mentioning a day trip to Collei and the others to Sumeru City for some

“further research into these ‘blackouts’, and also contacting some of my colleagues who might know something…”

there’s no way you’re not going with him.

you feel increasingly anxious all day, and at one point when you were sure Tighnari was walled-in by books at the House of Daena, decide to go blow off the anxious energy by possessing an animal to get some food!

…you’re not really feeling comfortable enough to possess a living being into eating yet, that seems hella nonconsensual, and u kinda would be taking the joy of the meal from them tbh-

so u possess a cat!

a ginger cat, bc u like to think if u do anything weird, that ppl in Teyvat have the same type of cats back on Earth and excuse it as just:

“unhinged ginger cats being unhinged ginger cats yep makes sense” lol

you’d managed to be really cute (and wasn’t that weird, having to mimic animal behaviors like rubbing ur side against a person’s legs..)

and convince one of the cooks of Lambad’s Tavern to give u some leftovers, and been about to go off to try out sunbathing before the chore boy, little shit he is, tried to chase you off with a broom!! >:( the audacity!! you clearly have a little plate and everything!!

luckily, you’d finished eating, but still! Ouch!! those bristles fucking hurt-!!!

…you look and see a Sumeru-ified version of a skateboard, and u just know ur little cat face is just ✨v✨

and u steal the little shit’s skateboard as revenge! HAHA thats what you get animal abuser!!!

The kid’s yelling at you as you speedily skate away with ur little cat paws (LMAOO), but the cooks are calling him back in so he can’t pursue, (oh good u hear them get onto him for chasing u off)

and as u slow down to coast along the Sumeru streets,

you feel someone’s eyes staring you down.

You assume it’s just people being amused at a cat skateboarding, obv

but when you look just ahead of you to see a smiling Sumeru citizen or eremite-

Oh. It’s Alhaitham.

and he’s just… watching you.

he’s stopped reading whatever he’s got in his hand, and is slowlyyyy turning his head as you pass by…

You decide to just keep skating away. LMAO

◇

it’s already sunset by the you’re accompanying Tighnari back from Sumeru City, floating along behind him

and you’d been expecting a calm walk back, tbh you’d been feeling a little better bc the ranger hadn’t found much to identify you, yet, luckily-

but bc u can never catch a break:

Tighnari didn’t see the bandits dropping from the goddamn trees BEHIND HIM- and they had like claymores out- those were definitely gonna be killing blows-!!

so yeah.

You possessed Tighnari.

turns out ur pretty good at dodging bc this is second time now you’ve helped dive away for someone in an ambush, ur kinda proud of urself tbh💀

and as you make him take a few leaps back, ur ears twitch in the wind as you duck behind a tree, then float away and out of his body

The poor hybrid ranger visibly sways, then shakes his head out of it, and he flicks his ears in different directions, squinting into the woods, he’s pulled out his bow, so you’re at least reassured he’s aware there are enemies

Like Cyno last week, he too gives up and rolls for the next tree for cover and begins to shoot and take down the bandits

the rest of the week is kinda a blur after that, bc it’s mostly filled with Tighnari running in circles around the camp checking for blackouts, writing letters to Alhaitham and Cyno apparently, and you not possessing anybody out of paranoia :/

Most notably however,

you’ve unfortunately discovered one of the few drawbacks of ur possessions

(y’know, besides not existing essentially, what with no one being able to sense u outside of possessions)

apparently, if someone walks thru you, they accidentally force you to possess them 💀??

while it’d already happened once with a random ranger that you didnt notice was walking up behind you,

you didn’t want to test it again just yet bc it kinda made YOU nauseous and incredibly dizzy when this happened

(as in, u stumbled like a drunk after this poor ranger woman ran thru u, until you were so dizzy and the world spun sm u had to make her sit on the literal ground, luckily she just thought she was just really dehydrated when she came back into herself 😭)

so obviously, you’ve avoided crowds to keep this forced possession thingy from happening all the time

like at the Forest Rangers meetings or something, ur watching off to the side, instead of standing with them or beside them

so needless to say, after about a week and half since possessing Tighnari,

you definitely did not mean to possess Collei.

She’d been in her wheelchair today, the Eleazar flaring up and tiring her body out

so her wheels had been entirely silent when she rolled up to where you and Tighnari were leaning over some strange experiments of his- you were just trying to figure out what all these mirrors were for, didn’t he do plants more-?

you didn’t even know what the hell happened, you just felt that familiar dropping sensation, like a small drop on a rollarcoaster, blinked, and then suddenly you were sitting instead of standing/floating???

Oh god-

before you could even begin to process that Tighnari was in front of you instead of beside you, the world was shorter,

The fox-eared ranger yelled in triumph, grinning with sharp fangs and spinning around to look at you (Collei)-

“Ah-ha! It worked! Finally, I saw you! I saw you, I-?? Oh gods, Collei, NO-!”

And with quick reflexes, Tighnari’s summoned his bow, but he’s clearly confused on what to do about this situation, taking aim, but also holding the air glowing with dendro not as taunt as you’d seen him in the battle with the bandits

You scramble to raise your hands up, brown poofy sleeves rise to your command, light green hair you can feel on your shoulders, everything is familiar, but not-

“WAIT! I’m sorry!! This was an accident, I promise! I don’t intend to hurt Collei, or you!! Please, just, don’t shoot me, I think you’ll just hurt Collei instead…”

You talk him down and decide, that if he’s put this much effort into finding out about your existence, is an incredible leader and friend to everyone around him, and was able to accept the traveler and many other strange things that’ve (probably? maybe?) already happened in Sumeru (god fuck u dont even know where in the timeline you are)

that you can probably trust Tighnari with your existence, and your powers.

…He nearly passes out.

◇

Life has gotten a lot funnier, and happier, since you told Tighnari (and some of the more trustworthy rangers and Collei by proxy) about ur existence (or really, confirmed it)

He’d been wary at first, appropiately cautious and demanding answers, of which you were happy to give and explain yourself

luckily, after a whole lot of “hmm, I see, no, I think I’m understanding-” , finger on his chin and everything

he’s said it’s okay to hang around the rangers, so long as you don’t possess anyone anymore without them knowing about you/with permission (outside of emergency situations that is)

tho he did seem surprisingly understanding and accepting of you doing it before after you explained how u were just unbelievably lonely and were lowkey paranoid of going crazy-

The rangers seem to believe you’re some kind of god/spirit thing, as you had no explanation yourself as to what you were ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

Tighnari’s also given you the rule to help out around here if you’re going to “ghost-laze around”, as he puts it lol

you’ve redirected ruin machines/feral animals away from rangers many times by now, to the many thanks and gratefulness of the rangers

you’ve even managed to even figure out how to push Collei’s wheelchair around when she uses it!

mostly by possessing tree after tree and using vines, or occasionally a fungi that can fly so you can nudge her along

she has insisted that you possess a ruin guard and carry her just to try it… however, Tighnari overheard her talking to the forest rangers’ dog (you) and immediately knew shit was up and banned you from doing it (at least not yet)

While most rangers are okay with you possessing them for a few minutes (and they’ve developed this bandana wrapped around their upper arms policy of “red = no possess, green = go ahead”)

Collei is the most okay with it and for longer, so you “won’t be that lonely ever again!” :’)

Tighnari is busy with stuff, so you can’t possess him as often, but the ranger has developed a theory that the more you possess someone, the more they can sense your feelings during possession/while floating around in ghost form too,

so he’ll occasionally feel you in the room with him, and start talking out loud in some one-sided convo to make you feel more included to make up for not being able to interact with him sometimes :)

(after taking you off his list of worries he’s still pretty swamped, not that he’ll tell you that, as he’s still not quite sure why he’s so, warm and safe feeling when you’re around, so willing to trust you so naturally, that it makes him want to at leats pretend to be worried abt a possessing ghost god/thing hanging out with the rangers now)

◇

basically everything is great!

the rangers are okay with you, they got a system to interact with you consensually, Tighnari and Collei are fond of you, you get to finally have something to do instead of floating around all the time (joining ranger missions)

and look!! they’ve even been kind enough to build you a little shrine or altar of sorts! Notes about Sumeru life, recipes for you to try, occasionally some books for you to read, and even some snacks/desserts for you to try out the next time someone possesses you and gives consent! (you leave them a little note stuck on their hand with your question for specific actions like that, if there isn’t another ranger there to ask for you when you unpossess them)

and everything is so cool, and everyone is so sweet and accepting

…Until Alhaitham shows up in Gandharva Ville, knocking on Tighnari’s door.

☆

AHHHH idk if this is any good! sorry it took so long, it was mostly the art 😭😭

anyway its not the best (the writing or the art) but i hope it’s at least some content to look at and be entertained for a minute!

also figured it was a good day to post what with the attack on our beloved Ao3 (tho i think it’s back up now?)

anyway, feel free to leave critiques on this one! (which I’ll probably turn this into a real fic one day soon, but not sure what to do with the plot/do a diff setup than this or what)

☆

sorry abt the radio silence! I just needed to close my mailbox bc i had a lot of stuff to answer, ur welcome to send submissions to chat/non-requests!

and also this took time to make (once again, mostly the art, bc thats how it always is with art isnt it 😭)

☆

Safe Travels Stranger,

💀♒

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @justlostintheinternet / @assassinsnake101 /@sun-wokung

If ur tag is here and didnt work, idk why!

Maybe see if your listed as a "searchable blog"?

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ew-selfish-art · 4 months

Text

DP x DC AU: Danny desperately wants to find the explosion guy. Tim is really good at covering his tracks... he didn't account for ghosts.

The explosions make it onto TV as purported terror activity and most people haven't heard of that part of the world much less ever given a second thought to care about it. The only real reason it gets reported on has something to do with the Justice League and... Danny knows too much.

He's been in training for Clockwork's court (which he's suspicious of- feels like kingly duty bullshit- but Danny is playing along out of curiosity for now) and he's learned a lot about how the living and non-living worlds collide. That means learning about CW's usual suspects- one of which just happened to have a ton of bases around the area Danny was seeing on the news.

It didn't take long for Danny to try to piece together that whoever blew up Nanda Parbat was trying to fuck with the League of Shadows, and was doing it successfully. Less green portals in the world the better, same goes for assassins. But it gets Danny thinking... Maybe he can employ similar tactics on the GIW Bases that keep spawning on the edges of Amity Park. It would at least set them back while he and his friends navigated the help line desk to request Justice League intervention. None of them can leave Amity Park, so outreach is going to have to be creative.

So Danny figures he'll just find the guy. Call up some ghosts who were there, or er, came from there and get a profile and track him down. But the ghosts keep saying it was The Detective. Annoying!

Danny goes full conspiracy theory, gets Tucker and Sam involved, and begrudgingly asks Wes Weston his thoughts.

He hadn't expected Wes to garble out a thirty minute presentation (that had 100 more slides left to go before he cut it off) about how Batman totally trained with a cult and so did his kids. Danny kind of rolled his eyes but... hey, new avenue of searching in the Infinite Realms at least.

The ghosts confirm that Bombs is for sure not Batman's MO- But maybe his second kid would know? The second kid was already brought back to life though, so no way to easily reach him... Danny starts to realize that this might be the work of a Robin now. Wasn't the red one known for solving cold cases? (Sam provides this information- its a social faux pas to not know hero gossip at Gotham Galas- everything she's learned is against her will).

It all comes to a head when Danny goes about the hard task of opening a portal for the guy to come through at just the right time, explain the infinite realms so he doesn't panic and then describe what the fuck was going on with the GIW. It takes months, just over a full year, of random (educated guesses) portal generating- Finally, Red Robin drops into the land of the dead.

"So, you're the guy I've got to talk to about explosions right?" Danny enthusiastically asks.

Tim thinks he's died and landed in the after life following 56 hours of being awake and plummeting off the side of a building into a Lazarus pool. Nothing makes sense about the kid in front of him.

"Yeah, I got a guy for munitions." Tim answers cooly.

"How do you feel about secretly sanctioned government operations that violate protected rights?"

"Gotta get rid of 'em some how. Need me to point you in the right direction?" This might as well be happening.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #long post #tim drake #red robin #tim and danny team up to blow up the GIW au #Tim being known as the explosion guy is my favorite and i will not let this part of his lore go ignored #Jason is the munitions guy obviously and the ghosts go crazy over the gossip it enlights when he helps in amity park #Danny one hundred percent is living for this working relationship- what a weirdo -danny hasn't met someone stranger than himself in a min #tim bartering his services for a few more years of life and danny just pikachu facing him #Tim wants to improve his relations in the afterlife be he still completely thinks hes dead #danny: dude ur still alive #Tim: yeah thats the goal but i'll help you meet your goals first and then we can negotiate #Danny decides to make the guy super ghost rich (thinking big Haunt real estate) and send him home #Tim blows up the GIW with no remorse and with all the data back up for proper justice to be served court side #tim returns from the dead and this is how the bats learn that he's the one who blew up nanda parbat all those years ago #it takes danny so long to find tim bc tim was spiralling and only after bruce got back did he get into a normal routine enough to get got

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lavandulawrites · 3 months

Text

Devilish creatures

Yandere Gojo Satoru x female reader

Masterlist

Word count: 2576

Warnings: Implied stalking, Gojo being as unsettling as always

You were a complete normal woman if you ignored the way you could see them. Since you had been a little girl you had been able to see those hellish creatures. You told your parents, but they didn’t believe. No one did. It got to the point where your parents took you to see a psychiatrist, which told you that it was nothing more than childish fantasies. Fantasies for a young child was normal, but you knew very well that what you saw were real and not fantasies. The only person who did believe you were your mother’s mother. She had always been eccentric. She told you that she has been seeing those creatures since she was a child. That did make you feel relieved, but it didn’t help the whispers from those around you.

You moved to Tokyo as soon as you graduated high school. You started studying in a prestigious university. You didn’t speak to your family much, but that was probably for the best. Those creatures never disappeared. In fact it seemed that there were much more of them in Tokyo. Around the campus there were always a swarm of them. They didn’t harm you (most of them were in fact really small) but they made you feel a sense of dread. Almost like they were draining your energy. Maybe they were. One night when you were walking home from your shift the small but cozy café, you came across a huge monstrous creature. It had rows upon rows of teeth and two bulging eyes pointed in each direction. It’s tongue black and long. It didn’t notice you, so you ran as fast as you could. After that incident you were reluctant to walk home alone at night. You always took the early shifts, which resulted in having less time to study. You would chose your life over your grades at any day, so you didn’t feel too bad about it.

One cold January day you called your grandmother. It had been a long time since you last talked and you really missed her. You told her about the monster-incident and she advised you to go to some place called Jujutsu High. You really hoped it wasn’t a scam or worse a cult, but you really didn’t have a choice. When it came to the monsters, you would take any solution.

The school was in a traditional Japanese style with impressive gardens. It really was beautiful. You headed to the building where the kind lady on the phone told you to. Apparently someone there could help you with your little problem. Even though you had your suspicions, you had to give it a try. You didn’t know what you would do if you didn’t.

You stepped inside the building and took a seat in what may seem like a waiting area of some sort. After you sat in silence contemplating if it was a wise decision to come or not for what felt like hours (it had actually only been 15 minutes) a tall white haired man walked by. He stopped in his tracks and looked at you with a slight smile. His eyes were covered with a black cloth resembling a blindfold. You could feel his intense stare underneath his blindfold. “Are you waiting for someone?” he tilted his head.

You nodded, your voice failing you in the presence of the handsome man.

“Do you happen to be [Last Name] [Name]?” he bent slightly forward. You nodded “Yeah”.

“I am sorry to inform you, but the person you had an appointment with have some urgent matters to attend to” his smile gentle.

Your expression fell “Oh… I see. Thanks for telling me”. You was just about to get up and leave when he stopped you by clearing his throat.

“I can help you. I assume you have a problem you need help with since you are here?” his grinned. You looked at him with wide eyes “You can help me?”. You were so relived, finally these sights would stop.

His grin widened “Of course I can help you darling”. The pet name rolling of his tongue with ease causing you to blush slightly. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Follow me” he straightened his back. God he was tall. You followed after him unsure of what to expect. The corridors were dimly lit, giving of an eerie feeling. The tall man was walking with slow steps so you could keep up with his ridiculously long legs. He stopped in front of a room and ushered you inside. “You know, I am not really supposed to tell civilians this, but I will make an exception since you are so adorable” his grin similar to that of the Cheshire cat. It was slightly unsettling. You raised your brow slightly and took a seat in the chair he was gesturing to.

He slumped down on the chair opposite of you, stretching his legs out like a cat. “You are seeing things right? Seeing creatures that resemble those of hell” it wasn’t a question, but a statement. You nodded slowly.

He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees and popped his head in his hands. You could tell he was scanning your expression. “Awww… You poor thing. I am sure that must frighten you so very much” he cooed at you like one would with a scared animal. “Luckily you have me to protect you”.

You twisted in your seat. There was something of about him, but you couldn’t put your finger one what exactly. “Yeah… They are quite frightening.” you smiled sheepishly.

He leaned back in his seat toying with his the black cloth covering his eyes. “Those so called creatures are called “curses”. You are one of the few people with the ability to see them.”

You blinked. Curses? You swallowed. Surely this was a joke right…? Sweat stared to collect at your temples.

The man chuckled at your reaction. “Where are you seeing the curses?”

“My university, around my neighbourhood and nowadays I’m seeing them in my flat” your hands slightly shaking. He hummed “I see. I will accompany you home to get rid of the curses. If you don’t mind of course”. His lips were twisted in a slightly smile, which you were unable to read. “I don’t mind at all” you shook your head. You would do anything to get rid of those so called curses. Absolutely anything.

He slapped his thighs and stood up with a swift motion. “Good. Very good indeed!” his smile still present. He stopped before the door and turned his head over his shoulder “I forgot to introduce myself. I am Gojo Satoru”.

The drive to your flat had been in silence. You had felt Gojo’s gaze at you the whole ride. “Please excuse my mess” you sheepishly smiled as you dumped some dishes into the sink. Gojo laughed telling you that he didn’t mind. He glanced around your apartment before he turned to you.

“It will only take a moment” he flashed you a smile. You stepped back unsure of what to expect. He had explained you briefly what cursed techniques and the like were while you made your way up the many stairs to your flat. You understood it somewhat. With a gesture of his fingered the small curses that were sweeping up underneath your sofa and bookshelf disintegrated. Your jaw fell slack in shock. You didn’t know what you expected, but this was certainly not it.

Gojo chuckled amused. “Impressed? This was mere child’s play” he smiled cockily, clearly happy with your reaction. “Are they gone gone now?”. “They are completely gone now” he nodded.

“Thank you so much!” you bowed. He had told you earlier that it wouldn’t cost you anything. A special discount for a special girl as he said. He had however suggested going out for a coffee with him. Which you agreed to, much to his delight.

“Your flat is safe from curses, though I can’t exactly say the same for you neighbourhood” his voice laced with concern. You felt like you were deflating. You had nowhere to stay besides your flat.

He brought his fingers to his chin and was silent for a moment. “What if…” his voice absentminded. “What if you stay at my place for the time being? I remember you said you were tight on money and hotels are quite expensive nowadays. I have a spare bedroom and it’s not too far away from here, but far enough for it to be safe”. You thought for a moment. Was it okay for you to sleep at his place? He was a total stranger after all and besides you didn’t want to bother him, but he had been nothing but kind. As if noticing your hesitation, he spoke up “I can promise you it won’t be a bother” he smiled warmly. You thought for a second. You really didn’t have any other options. “Okay. Thank you. I really appreciate it”.

His smile twisted into a grin. “The pleasure is all mine” his words smooth like honey.

His flat was huge and well decorated in a elegant way, not like quite what you had expected. Long windows going down to the floor overlooked the bustling streets of Tokyo.

He laughed softly at your awe. “Feel yourself at home”. He had replaced his blindfold with black rimmed glasses that he pulled down his nose to wink at you. His eyes were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. They were of an ice blue colour mixed with turquoise. He pushed his glasses back up and hummed at your reaction.

The hours flew by as you talked about all and nothing over takeaway sushi from a high end restaurant. He really was easy to talk to. His witty remarks making you laugh. He was quite flirty too, but not overbearingly so.

Soon it was well over midnight and your eyelids getting heavy. “Ooo someone’s sleepy” he laughed. You nodded “Yeah. I had to wake up early”. He stood up “I will make your room ready. One moment please”.

You tried to fight the sleepiness when something poking out underneath one of the coffee table book. You leaned forward to get a better look at the somewhat familiar flyer. You pulled it out carefully and brought it underneath the light of the lamp standing by the sofa. It was a flyer of your university. Weird… From your impression of Gojo you didn’t think he was studying. He did tell you that he worked as a teacher at Jujutsu High. An eerie feeling crept over you. It was probably just a coincidence, right? It had to be, there were no other explanations… You went over your conversations. He was really observant with you, but maybe he was one of the more observant types.

Then it struck you. You never did mention which university you were attending. You only gave him your address when he drove you both to your flat to ride it off the curses.

You quickly put the flyer back in place and straightened your back.

“Your room is ready” Gojo’s head was peaking out of the hallway. With shaky hands you turned around to face him. Your hands gripping the cushions of the sofa to ground your racing mind. You had to come up with an excuse and that quick. A notification followed by a curse broke the uncomfortable silence. You snapped your head towards Gojo. He was staring at his phone with furrowed brows.

“You should see yourself lucky that you are staying here” he walked over to you still starting his phone. “Multiple curses have gotten out of control attacking civilians. It’s not safe out now”. His icy eyes meeting yours. His glasses nowhere to be found. His expression changed to worry as he scanned your face. “What is it?” he tilted his head slightly.

You swallowed as you fidgeted with your fingers. You couldn’t go back to your flat now, it would be to dangerous and besides you couldn’t confirm that it was something up with Gojo. You had always had the habit of being untrusting with people. After all he had been nothing but kind and welcoming. “Nothing” you shook your head with a slight smile. “I am just tired”.

The bed was really fit for a king. It was the most comfortable sleep you had ever gotten. Your eyes creaked open as rays of sunlight bathed the room in a soft yellow glow. The smell of pancakes filling your nose.

Gojo was standing by the oven flipping pancakes while humming a tune that was playing on the speakers. I Only Have Eyes for You by The Flamingos. He turned around with a smile. His eyes shining bright with an unreadable expression. “Good morning [Name]. Did you sleep well?” his voice melodic and his smile dashing. He really was beautiful, but you couldn’t help but be cautious.

“I did. Thank you for letting me spend the night here”. With a smile he told it was nothing and he was glad he could help you out. He served the pancakes with a hum and wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. His gaze tender.

He took a seat opposite of you and his expression changed. “I got a message from some of the other Jujutsu sorcerers” he lifted his fork and knife and cut into his pancake. “There were quite the casualties last night. They are still looking for those who went missing. They haven’t been able to locate all the bodies” his hand stilled and he looked at you, eyes unblinking.

“Do you understand the gravity of this situation? Do you understand why I suggested you to spend the night? One can never be too careful” his voice stern. You only nodded. You looked at your plate. Your appetite was lost. You were lucky for not being one of those poor people that were mauled by the curses. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just want you to be aware of the dangers of this world” his voice sincere.” You nodded understandingly. He was a good man after all and you were in his debt.

As you eat your breakfast after encouragement from Satoru, he watched you with a smile. You were really naive to be stepping right into the lion’s den.

He had “met”you at a café. You were hanging out with your friends seemingly oblivious to how they ignored your presence in favour of planning some kind of party. He had felt sorry for you as you stirred your tea while trying to get the attention of your “friends”.

He had become quickly smitten by you. It truly was love at first sight. You were such a stunning woman after all. No one could compare to your beauty. He felt the intense need to protect you so he decided to watch over you as a gentleman should do.

He spent weeks watching you as you left for your job, as you studied in the library at your university and watching you through the eyes of the teddy bear you thought were a present from your friend. You were like a little lost lamb in a world full of flesh eating monsters. You needed to be protected and who could be better at that than Satoru?

Unbeknownst to you he was the most dangerous of all the devilish creatures.

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hellfireghoul · 1 year

Text

Approval

Leon Kennedy x f!Reader

Summary: You've been partnered up with Leon, much to both your dismay, on the mission to rescue the President's daughter from a deadly cult located in Spain. Leon's constant jabs to undermine you really start getting under your skin and you finally confront him about it.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Pure smut with little plot. Slight degrading??

Words: 4.1k

Notes: Okay so I haven't written smut in a long time so bare with me, this is probably fucking awful but I cannot stop thinking about this pixelated man, the brain rot is too real. Okay enjoy

You wondered if he’d ever look your way again. You wanted nothing more than for him to tell you you’d done a good job. Or to maybe compliment your skills. Just once.

It incensed you that you felt this way, that you wanted the approval of someone so cocky. You didn’t have to prove yourself to anyone. You’d gotten where you were from years of gruelling hard work and training, and it infuriated you that you could be left feeling this way over a man you barely knew. If you were hearing this story from a friend, you’d laugh at them. At the sheer neediness and desperate desire for approval. From a man no doubt. It was pitiful.

Nevertheless, you found yourself pining for that approval. Making sure you were on your A game even more than usual. You’d been assigned the task of rescuing the President’s daughter, yourself and Leon Kennedy being the only two people entrusted enough to deliver on such a task. It seemed Leon had a hard time believing why you were chosen to accompany him.

The sly comments had begun from day one, as soon as you were deployed. You had met previously of course, but only briefly around the office and he’d never even really acknowledged you. Naturally, you were thrilled when you’d been paired with him. The arrogant agent that never spoke a word to you, great.

You took it upon yourself anyway to introduce yourself properly to Leon as you boarded the helicopter, he’d simply nodded at you but didn’t say anything. You’d pressed for further conversation on the flight, and he’d simply commented that he ‘wasn’t aware you were up to a level to be on this type of mission’.

The fucking cheek.

For the first day, it had been a constant battle of you poking at him to get his attention. Not even because you wanted it, you were just baffled at how someone you were spending your every waking second with could be so indifferent. So uninterested. You were lying if you said your ego wasn’t a little bruised. The few comments he did make however, were to undermine you.

“Your gun needs a reload.” He’d murmur, as you’d just finished taking down two ganados single-handedly.

“You not gonna pick that up?” He’d commented, gesturing to your combat knife strewn on the ground in the midst of you both fighting. You’d merely scoffed at him, shaking your head and shoving it back into its pouch with more force than necessary.

Now, the two of you were holed up in a decently sized abandoned house. It was day two, and Leon had barely spoken more than a few words to you, much to your utmost annoyance. You were exhausted, having been on constant alert all day, taking out some of your frustrations perhaps on the ganados. You’d gathered some intel on where Ashley Graham was being kept, but right now, the weather was absolutely horrific and you had no way to access her. You’d have to wait it out. You watched from the floor as Leon barricaded the front door of the house with a battered bookcase, your eyes glancing over his toned arms, causing you to swallow thickly and avert your gaze.

“Little help would be nice.” Leon uttered, a final shove ensuring the bookcase fully covered the door.

“I’m surprised you would entrust me with such responsibility. I mean, I’m clearly not capable enough.” You said, venom laced in your tone as you stood up from your seat on the floor. Leon, to your dismay, didn’t react. This only served to infuriate you more. You strode over to the window, shouldering another worn piece of furniture in front of it, he came over to help, but you’d already managed by the time he’d got to you.

“I got it.” You muttered, sulking off to cover the other window. “Unless you know, I didn’t do it right. Maybe you want to check it.”

Leon audibly groaned at your sarcastic words, and you seized his tiny reaction and ran with it.

“No seriously, what is your problem?” You span round.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’ve been undermining me from the minute you set eyes on me. Some niceties do go a long way you know.”

“I’m not here to make friends, sweetheart.”

You had to stop your jaw from falling slack at his choice of words. You were enraged at his audacity.

“Sweetheart? You barely speak to me and now you have the audacity to start calling me sweetheart?” You scoffed in disbelief at the arrogant man standing before you. His stern features didn’t so much as falter at your words, instead, he clenched his jaw and took two paces towards you.

“We have a job to do, if you don’t like it, you’re more than welcome to be dismissed.” He spoke in a dangerously low tone, his face now inches from yours. The tension in the air was almost palpable, and it shocked you how your breath hitched in your throat and you felt your body flush from head to toe. You’d always found Leon attractive, sure, but his arrogance seemed to turn you off to any idea of him in that way. Now however, your mouth went noticeably dry and your head spun as he was inches from touching you. Your entire body felt as if it was on fire, waiting for something to happen. Expecting him to make a move. Instead, he pulled away, leaving you almost whimpering.

“That’s what I thought.” Leon stated, his face neutral as you watched him back up a few paces in disbelief. He headed towards the moth-eaten sofa and the equally tattered chair, settling himself in the armchair with his pistol fully loaded in his right hand.

“Get some sleep, big day tomorrow.” Although his face didn’t display it, you knew he was feeling unbelievably smug.

He was playing a game, one you were now set on winning.

Ashley Graham was exactly how you’d envisioned the President’s daughter to be. Preppy, innocent-eyed and slightly entitled. You watched in irritation as Leon played the hero, catching Ashley perfectly from the church window and you fought not to roll your eyes into the back of your head, aware there were more pressing issues at hand as the sound of ganados snarling rumbled beneath you. You climbed out next, hovering on the window sill and gaging how to land.

To your surprise, Leon offered out his hand. You shot him a look, opting to jump out of your own accord, landing perfectly at his feet with a satisfied smirk you couldn’t hide. The three of you hurried around to the graveyard that preceded the church doors, you ahead, Leon behind and Ashley sandwiched in the middle to ensure maximum security. You drew your pistol as you fought through some of the enemies, dodging and shooting where needed. As you fled through, you came to an opening just before a wooden bridge. Ganados fled in from every direction, torches and pitchforks at the ready, screaming and ready for blood.

You paused in your tracks, desperately searching for the best way forward until Leon yelled, “This way!”

He’d rushed forward, over the wooden bridge and that’s when you saw a familiar face gesturing you inside the house ahead. You and Ashley followed Leon in hot pursuit, following him as he ushered the two of you inside and began bolting the large wooden gate in front of the house.

“You again?” You said, pondering the familiar face in front of you. The dark haired man before you, you and Leon had met the day previously, on the first day of your deployment. He had left the two of you entangled in a compromising position, much to both of your disgust.

“Listen, about the other day-” The dark haired man began, but Leon abruptly cut him off, his fist pummeling on his chest and pressing him against the far wall.

“Yeah, about that. Who are you? Talk. Now.” Leon growled.

The man introduced himself as Luis, and specifically locked his eyes on you.

“And what about you?” Luis smirked, seemingly not interested to learn anyone else’s name in the room. You were about to answer, until a loud bang made both you and Leon spring into action, eyeing the windows to locate the source of the sound.

“Shit.” You hushed under your breath, the locals having broken the previously bolted gate wide open and now advancing on the house.

“No time for introductions.” You said casually, as you hauled your shotgun off your back.

“Ashley, hide.” You instructed the blonde girl, and she nodded nervously.

“Here, help me.” Luis called to Leon, and the pair hauled a battered wardrobe over, revealing a hole in the stone wall where Ashley could hide away. She reluctantly crawled in, and the three of you readied yourselves for the incoming attack.

Snarling surrounded you as the ganados began breaking their way in through long ago smashed windows. They toppled in, one by one, some of them still sporting pitchforks and shovels. You got to work, making good use of your shotgun and knife, thinning the herd considerably but as fast as you did, more seemed to emerge.

“There’s too many!” You yelled.

“Stand your ground!” Luis called back, shooting an enemy directly in the eye from a decent distance, earning a ‘Phew nice shot!�� from yourself.

Luis shrugged and grinned devilishly, and you felt a familiar pair of icy blue eyes boring into you for a brief second. A flurry of gunshots, flash grenades and broken knife blades later, the house seemed safe. The hoard seemingly ran dry, the only noise to be heard outside was that of the wind and heavy rainfall pattering on the ground.

“Jesus Christ.” You huffed quietly, and bent double, leaning your palms on your thighs in an attempt to regain your breath.

“Are you okay, miss?” Luis was at your side in an instant, offering you his hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.” You sighed as you took Luis’s hand. You were suddenly aware that Leon was glaring at the two of you again.

“Actually, Luis. I never did get the chance to introduce myself properly. I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You said, softly as you looked up at him innocently through your eyelashes.

“No, the pleasure is all mine.” Luis said slowly, and with that he brought the hand he was still holding to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on the back of it. You blushed ever so slightly, and smiled, feeling Leon’s glare absolutely boring into your soul. There was a small pause, your eyes still lingering on Luis until Leon broke the silence.

“Ashley, you can come out now.” Leon almost growled, heaving the wardrobe himself with a grunt to free the girl.

“Hey man, I would’ve helped you with that.” Luis stepped forward in an attempt to help, still not releasing the hold on your hand, but the job had already been done. Ashley emerged looking somewhat disheveled from being holed up in the dark. Her eyes immediately darted to Luis holding your hand still, and a small smirk creeped on her face.

“Making friends are we?” She grinned, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.” You smirked.

“Let’s get moving.” Leon murmured as he brushed past you and Luis for the door.

The four of you headed south, and that’s where Luis left you, to your great protest. You were only just starting to have fun. Leon’s eyes narrowed him suspiciously as he left, insisting that he didn’t trust him. He tapped his radio, waking up the comms system and getting through to your agency assistance.

“Condor one to roost, baby eagle is secured.” Leon spoke firmly but quickly down the comms system, as you and Ashley stood waiting behind him, attempting to shield yourselves from the torrential rain.

“Great job Condor one, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. The weather is too bad for us to deploy the chopper, it’s too risky. Are you able to hold out till morning?”

The voice traveled to yours and Ashley's ears, and Ashley shot you a worrying look. You didn’t alter your expression, not wanting to worry the girl, after all, it was your job to protect her.

“Copy that. Condor one out.” Leon pressed the button on his receiver hard and inhaled deeply.

“Back to the house?” You suggested, your voice slightly raised in an effort to be heard over the rain. Leon nodded, reverting back to his usual silent self.

The house, although abandoned and unkept, was a welcome sight for the three of you after the trek in the horrendous weather. It was a relief just to be sheltered from the rain. Ashley immediately slumped down on the sofa you had slept on just last night, and you made yourself busy by lighting a few candles across the room, to allow for a tiny bit of light.

“Hey, don’t light too many of those. We’ll draw attention to ourselves.” Leon instructed, causing you to roll your eyes as you blew out the match after lighting the last candle you’d intended to burn.

“Not stupid, remember?” You jabbed, and you heard Leon give a small sigh as you set yourself down next to Ashley.

“There’s a bed upstairs Ashley, the rooms all boarded up but there’s no access for anyone to get in from the outside anyway. You’ll be safe in there, plus you know where we are if you need us.” You said softly, and Ashley nodded, slowly getting to her feet.

“I can’t thank the two of you enough for what you’ve done.”

“Don’t mention it.” You reassured her.

“Just doing my job.” Leon added, and you don’t know why but even this irked you. The fact he didn’t say we, as if he and he alone single-handedly saved Ashley from that church. Leon offered to show Ashley upstairs, and you scoffed as he wrapped his arm around her, still irritated at his prior comment. It was evident that whatever you did wasn’t good enough. You could easily hold your own, you’d worked your way from the ground up in this job, the only other person the President himself entrusted with this mission. But yet he still treats you like you’re a dumb and inexperienced, an inconvenience nonetheless.

“What was that for?” Leon’s voice emerged from the darkness as he made his way back down the stairs, startling you out of your thoughts.

“What was what for?” You fired back, sitting up straighter on the sofa, your eyes never leaving him as he made his way near the front door to push the bookcase in front of it.

“You don’t think I heard it? C’mon Y/N. That pathetic scoff you gave out just now. So unprofessional.”

“Oh, I’m unprofessional? At least I’m not the one flirting with the objective.” You hissed back, careful to not let Ashley overhear you. As much as you were irritated, a small part of you secretly got a kick at the fact he was actually arguing back. It beat his prolonged silences and poker face.

“You call that flirting? Then what would you call Luis goggling at you like he was earlier? And you lapping up every minute of it?”

Jackpot. You knew he’d hated it. His jealously was seemingly the one thing he couldn't hide. But the question remained, why? As far as you could tell, this man hated your guts. Or was that indifferent to you, he couldn’t quite care less about what happened to you. But on the other hand, he had ample opportunity last night to make a move on you if he'd have wanted to. Hell, he could’ve had you bent over this very couch, your legs spread apart as his hips snapped into you, if he'd so desired. But he didn’t. So what was the end game here?

“And if I was enjoying Luis’s advances, what’s it to you Leon? And don’t feign professionalism, we both know you’ve had your fair share of ‘action’ shall we call it? On jobs.” You snapped, you were now on your feet and took a few steps towards him, folding your arms tight to your chest.

“I’m not following.” Leon answered, mirroring your actions of folding his arms tight to him. Your eyes involuntarily glazed over his arms once again, being distracted momentarily by the sheer size of them and the muscle tone.

“Ada Wong. Need I say more?” This seemed to shut him up, and you weren’t sure if you were correct in thinking his face looked a little more flushed than before, it was hard to tell in the dim candlelight. You knew this was a low blow, the entire agency practically had heard the rumors about Leon’s involvement with her, and how she had used him. You feared you had gone too far for a moment, his silence raising a slight level of internal panic. You advanced further forward, sighing and a pang of guilt jolted through you.

“Leon, I’m sorry. That was too far, I-”

You were interrupted by his lips crashing into yours, and his hands firmly cupping your face as he kissed you deeply. Shock froze you to the spot for a second, but it didn’t take long for you to melt into his touch as his fingers wove into your hair. You pulled away first, breathless and taking in the sight before you. Leon was panting too, his lips red, swollen and glistening slightly from being on your mouth.

“Leon, what are you-”

But you were cut off once again, his mouth re-connected with yours as he kissed you with such ferocity it almost took your breath away. One hand snaked down your body to your waist, pulling you towards him with a firm grip and the other remained entangled in your hair. He gave your strands a firm pull, causing your head to jolt back which allowed him access to your neck.

“Do- you- ever- shut- up?” Leon breathed against your neck between sloppy, open mouthed kisses that caused you to gasp involuntarily. You, for once, were speechless. The only word you could manage was his name in breathless whispers and gasps as he kissed down your neck and to your chest. The hand that was pressed into your hip began making its way up your stomach under your shirt towards your breasts. His hands were cold against your flushed skin, making you gasp as he massaged your chest, your nipple perking up at his touch. He pecked at your neck still, but quickly stopped causing you to sigh as his blue eyes met yours.

“Is this okay?” He asked, earnestly and with the softest tone you had ever heard emanate from his mouth.

“Yeah.” You managed to breathe, and just like that, Leon hooked his arms underneath your thighs in one swift motion, lifting you off of the ground so your legs were wrapped around his waist. You gasped in complete shock as Leon practically threw you down on the couch, his lips were immediately on yours again as you lay flat on your back. He pulled away as quickly as he’d connected, and you moaned slightly at the lack of contact. Leaning back to pull his t-shirt over his head, his hair fell just perfectly out of place as he hovered over you, pupils blown out in lust as his gaze never left yours. You felt him harden against your thigh as he returned to kissing your neck, and you instinctively reached between the two of you to palm him through his trousers. Leon grunted against your ear, but quickly grabbed you by your wrist and pinned the offending hand above your head.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. Gotta teach you your lesson first.” Leon murmured in your ear, and you gasped as his free hand wandered south, silencing your desire to ask further questions.

His hand easily slid past the waistband of your trousers, his fingers sliding to your sensitive spot with ease causing you to hiss at the sudden contact. Leon sat back up on his knees suddenly, unbuttoning your trousers and sliding them down your legs. You lifted your hips briefly as he did the same with your underwear, and you now lay bare in front of him.

“God, look at you.” Leon whispered, taking you in and how soaked you were for him. “Such a pretty girl, all worked up like that just for me.”

Leon gently traced your inner thighs, getting closer to where you desperately needed him to touch you. You were sighing and whimpering as he missed every spot you needed him to be.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, feigning innocence and all you could muster was a weak moan in reply. Suddenly, he plunged two digits deep inside you and you cried out at the sudden full feeling. He clamped his free hand to your mouth, hissing at you to shut up. You pathetically whimpered against his palm, as he massaged your sweet spot, causing you to writhe beneath him. He pumped his fingers at an unrelenting pace, and the all too familiar feeling in your stomach began building with intensity. You threw your head back as his thumb circled your clit, threatening to push you over the edge until… Nothing. He stopped. His fingers withdrew and your head shot up in absolute despair. He removed his hand from your mouth and a smirk was tugging at his lips.

“What-wha?” You breathed, the ache settling between your legs and tears almost forming in your eyes at the lack of release.

“Leon, what-” You continued, your eyes searching his face for an answer. You thought maybe for a moment there was danger. Leon leant down towards you, his mouth inches away from your ear, his breath making your skin prickle.

“As I said, gotta teach you your lesson.” Leon hummed lowly in your ear, and you couldn’t help but let out a frustrated moan against him. Before you even had a chance to process what he’d said, his fingers were deep inside of you once more, causing you to gasp once again and he chuckled smugly against you.

“Leon, please… Please.” You begged pathetically as he pumped two fingers into you, you felt your release building once again as fast as it had before. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he had you unraveling beneath him, a writhing mess of pants and moans of his name.

This was exactly what he had wanted. You’d been giving him attitude since you’d been paired together, and this had finally put you in your place. Leon had always been interested in you, and this was exactly what he was afraid would happen. He didn’t want to compromise his professionalism, which is why he thought it best to keep you at bay by being less than conversational and pleasant. What he didn’t count on was your attitude turning him on so fucking much. The constant challenges and jabs. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Right now, all he could hear were your soft moans of his name and it was driving him crazy.

You were right on the edge, and you almost cried out as he repeated the same as before, removing his fingers at the very last second and leaving you a writhing mess beneath him.

All you could manage was a string of his name and various protests. He simply laughed smugly at you, and if you weren’t so worked up you would’ve killed him.

“You have to ask next time, sweetheart.”

You nodded weakly, your eyelids heavy as tears of sheer frustration coated your lashes.

“Yes, Leon. I’ll ask I promise-” You whimper, and he chuckles again darkly as you struggled to form a sentence. Your hips were unrelenting, attempting to chase some kind of release, and he pinned you down in place before sinking his digits in again, continuing at that same detrimental pace that had you struggling to vocalise anything but his name. You felt it again, the familiar build in your stomach.

“Can I? Leon, p-please-”

“Can you what?”

“Leon-” You couldn’t verbalise your thoughts, your brain a jumbled mess with only one thought running through it.

“Use your words.” He commanded, still slamming his fingers onto your sweet spot causing you to see white.

“C-Can I please cum?” You managed to force the words out, and as soon as you asked, he approved your request. You allowed yourself to fall apart beneath him, your legs shaking and eyes shutting as you’d finally been allowed the release you’d been desperately chasing. You clenched around his fingers as he fucked you through it, only stopping once you began pushing him away from overstimulation. A shit eating grin spread across Leon’s features as you lay there, completely high on just him.

“Good girl, that wasn’t so hard now was it?”

It seemed you’d finally won his approval after all.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #re4 #resident evil 4 #i am not okay #an unhinged human being

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infinizero · 18 days

Text

Ok so

There is this trope about ghosts not reaching maturity until they've been ghosts for several centuries

There is ALSO the trope that ghosts fight as a sort of way to communicate

With the power of these two tropes combined-- I give you this strange headcanon:

Ghosts become mature adult ghosts after 500 years.

Danny and his usual troublemakers are all in the same "daycare".

He's just the youngest + most unique ghost so they like playing around with him the most. In other words, it's the ghost version of older siblings ordering their younger siblings around

As far as ghosts go,

There are blobs, ghost animals, shades (those are ghosts as we know it) and ghosts (aka Infinite Realms Beings) etc etc

The blobs and etc are, well, blobs and etc

But ghosts need a while to fully grow up and be considered adult

And so, if these ghosts are children, they need guardians or caretakers at the daycare right?

Correct

Baby ghosts are under the care of the nearest authority (Ancient or Leader or etc etc)

Except baby ghosts usually stay near where they were born and Danny and Co just so happen to be near Pariah Dark

Pariah Dark is asleep

But Fright Knight is there!

Except Fright Knight is also sealed

And it's one thing to wake up the ultra powerful megalomaniac tyrant kinda parent figure but not really you're supposed to have and another to drag your oldest adult sibling out of their room to touch grass

In other words, the surrounding authorities just went eh the babies can contact fright Knight if anything happens

But then Danny defeats Pariah and inherits his authority

So he technically becomes the caretaker of baby ghosts in the area while being the youngest baby ghost himself

Hence the other ancients visiting and *playing* with him to see if it's ok to leave the babies with this other baby

And since they're ghosts who don't have human guidelines or morals, decide that since he's that strong it should be fine to leave it alone

Besides he has Fright Knight! Good 'ol Frighty will definitely help out this new baby kid ghost with doing everything!

Meanwhile, Fright Knight waiting for Danny to come claim the crown and ring: ...

Cue Danny's rogues coming up to him to show him shit they accomplished

Youngblood : Phantom look at this cool baking soda volcano that spews out real lava!!

Danny: It does WHAT

Youngblood: Look!

Danny: NO

Ember: Hey Babybop wanna listen to the new song I wrote? It compels humans to start cults based on my name!

Danny: Ember, no

Ember: I think you mean Ember YES

Skulker: Ghost boy I have skinned an alien and brought you a pelt turned into a coat

Danny: ...you did WHAt

Skulker: It is nearing winter time and one must always be ready for winter time

Danny, having an existential meltdown after seeing his parents and Vlad get it on together: Desiree what the actual fuck??? Did you do????

Desiree: I merely fulfilled a wish

Johnny: Hey Phantom look we got matching tattoos to celebrate our anniversary!

Kitty: Wait what did you just say?

Johnny: uh, we got tattoos for our anniversary?

Kitty: ...our anniversary is in TWO MONTHS. THAT was for my DEATHDAY.

Johnny: ...oh shit

Danny, about to soup them both: Man, get good

Lunch Lady: Phantom have you eaten your proteins today?!

Danny: uh... Yeah?

Lunch Lady, already throwing meat at him: EAT MORE

Danny:

Box ghost: WITNESS! THE GREAT BOX MECHA!

Danny: oh come on seriously

And on the other hand,

Walker, dumping ten piles of paper in Danny's room: Phantom, here are the latest forms that need revisions

Spectra: What do you MEAN you're not allowing me to open a beauty salon in order to dig into other girls' insecurities and maintain my own beauty?! That's why it's called a beauty salon!!

Cujo and Wulf who are both the best boys and favorites, with smug faces:

Fright Knight still waiting for Danny to accept the ring and crown:

Plasmius: What the heck is this weird feeling my ghost side keeps making me feel??

Plasmius: is it... Is there perhaps a ghostly way I can adopt the little badger??

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munson-blurbs · 2 months

Text

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie lowered his guard during a late night conversation, revealing crucial details about his past. But was it enough for you to reciprocate? (4.3k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, homelessness, brief mention of neglect, brief mention of sex work, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter four: show me yours, i'll show you mine

If convincing Eddie to take the job wasn’t enough of a struggle, you still had to explain the situation to your parents.

Hi Mom and Dad, I invited a guest to help fix up the motel. The same one who stole a blanket–but don’t worry, I got it back. Oh, and he’ll be staying here for free.

They were understandably taken aback by your decision, especially without consulting them first, but you’d mustered up a strong argument: Eddie was young, he was easy to get along with, and he showed a basic sense of personal responsibility. Not to mention that the place could certainly use the repairs; peeling wallpaper was just the tip of the iceberg. Lightbulbs needed to be replaced, carpets needed to be scrubbed, and the outside of the building desperately needed to be power washed.

“Plus, summer break doesn’t start for another few weeks,” you hastily added. “We won’t need to worry about renting out Eddie’s room until then.”

Mom arched an eyebrow at the newfound ascription—not room four, but Eddie’s room—but said nothing, only looking at your father for his seal of approval.

He breathed out, long and low, trying to do the calculations in his head. Your heart flip-flopped when his gaze dropped to the ground, his signature move when he was about to tell you no.

“If he doesn’t help out, he can’t afford to stay here anyway. It’s not like we’re losing money if he keeps the room for a bit.” You winced at the slight whine in your voice, the opposite of the infallible exterior you’d wanted to present.

Dad laughed, not unkindly, but belittlement panged in your chest nonetheless. “Except for the water, air conditioning, and electricity he uses,” he pointed out, ticking off each item on his fingers. “Unless he plans to only sit in the dark, sweat, and never shower.” He sighed as unmistakable disappointment weaved into your eyes and filled them with tears.

Now you’d have to tell Eddie that the offer was off the table, that he was shit out of luck, that you’d let him down. You never should’ve opened your big mouth in the first place. Captain Save-the-World, except you only ever made things worse. If you wore a cape, it would get snagged on tree branches each time you tried to fly.

“You have a good heart,” Mom spoke up, trying to nurse your wounded feelings, “but kindness doesn’t pay the bills.” She glanced at Dad again, her mouth set in a straight line. “Maybe we can discuss this further.”

You fought to ignore the hope that bloomed from her words, but the corners of your mouth turned upwards before you could rein it in. “Thank you,” you murmured, offering them both a grateful smile.

People called you a ‘bleeding heart,’ teasing you about your constant attempts to solve problems beyond a reasonable scope. At last year’s Thanksgiving dinner, your uncle had informed you—unprompted—that he would never vote for you for President because “you’d just give all my money to the poor.”

While your parents were more realistic with their goals than you were, they did their best to encourage your compassionate spirit; there was no doubt that you got your sense of morality from them. After deliberating on Eddie’s fate for a few hours, they had finally relented—with one stipulation.

“Your mother and I are not going to supervise him, so he’ll have to work night shifts with you,” Dad had said sternly.

“Really?” You clapped your hands in celebration. “Thank you! I mean, um, Eddie thanks you.”

Dad gave your shoulders a quick squeeze; it was his version of you’re welcome. “Yeah, well.” He played it cool, keeping his tone breezy. “It’ll be good practice for when you take over the place.”

You’d nodded in response, your insides twisting in a clashing mix of excitement and shame. Eddie wouldn’t have to live on the street, but it required you to continue lying to your parents.

I’ll tell them the truth once Eddie finds a real job and gets his own place. I can only handle one crisis at a time.

That was how you’d found yourself spending your Tuesday evening with Eddie Munson. The motel was otherwise empty, save for your parents, a middle-aged trucker in room 7, and Phyllis in her usual digs.

You and Dad had spent the end of his shift covering the floor with giant flimsy drop cloths. They hadn’t been used in years, evidenced by the thin layer of dust that coated them when you’d dug them out from the back of the supply closet. You’d tried your best to shake it all off but instead sent yourself into a sneezing fit.

Eddie sauntered into the lobby at a quarter after ten. Gray sweatpants sagged at his waist, the drawstring noticeably missing from the elastic band, and his white cotton undershirt had a tan stain that spread across his left pec.

“Coffee,” he explained with a shrug, rolling a hair tie off of his wrist and pulling his curls into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. He looked at you blankly and waited for you to instruct him, but you had already dove into your schoolwork. “Um, is there a ladder? Tools?” He pursed his lips and scanned the room with indifference.

“Oh! Right, yeah.” You could have smacked yourself for not having everything set up for him. “We don’t have a ladder per se, but this step stool should work fine.” You pulled it out from behind the desk along with a scoring tool, a spray bottle filled with a vinegar and water solution, and a putty knife. “I also grabbed the clock radio from my room if you wanted to listen to some music. Might help pass the time.”

Eddie nodded, watching carefully as you switched the radio on and tuned the dial to a Top 40 station. He shook his head the moment the electric beat of Haddaway’s “What is Love” played through the tinny speakers.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a scoff, dropping the supplies right where he stood, footsteps heavy even with the cloth underneath him. Without another word, he spun the knob past the static until the sound of an electric guitar crackled through. He bobbed his head a few times, finding the rhythm. “This’ll do.”

“Not a Eurodance fan?”

His back was turned to you as he returned to the task at hand which left him unable to see the sarcastic smirk you sported. “Fuck no.” He stepped up on the tool and began cutting into the old wallpaper, puffing out an irritated laugh. “I can’t believe—scratch—you voluntarily—scratch—listen to that–scratch–shit.” His biceps flexed with each flick of the blade in a consistent rhythm.

Drumming your fingernails on the desk, you twirled your pen in your free hand as you reread your own handwriting. You’d stayed at the library and filled notebook pages with bullet points about early childhood development until a squirrely librarian kicked you out at closing time. The choppy sentence fragments begged to be fleshed out into a fully-formed essay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus.

Write words. Make edits. Add a comma. Do something, anything, dammit.

Almost an hour passed without you making an iota of progress on your paper. The words swam on the page until they just looked like inky squiggles with no real meaning, your brain blank as if you’d never written anything in your life. Cool air tickled your nose as you exhaled through your lips. Why couldn’t you just concentrate?

“It’s this music,” you muttered to yourself, too low for your company to hear. Your temples throbbed with frustration, and you reached over and snapped back to the previous station.

Eddie’s head whipped around at the sudden change, frowning when he heard pop music instead of the metal that had just been playing. “Seriously?” He leaned one hand on the wall and threw the other up in exasperation.

“Yes, seriously,” you bit back, teeth clenched in annoyance. “I can’t focus on my writing with that on.”

Eddie grumbled something unintelligible but went back to work, the scratching serving as a strange backdrop to the song.

Janet Jackson faded out to a too-chipper deejay. “You folks know what time it is!” His voice reminded you of old-school toothpaste commercials, over-exaggerated and unnaturally polished. “That’s right; it’s time for Rad or Retch—where I play a song from a new artist, and you call in and let me know whether you think it’s rad or if it makes you wanna retch!”

Eddie rolled his eyes, adding an exasperated “Jesus H. Christ,” under his breath.

“This one’s called ‘Watch Me Leave’ by Death’s Echo, a grunge group from—”

The announcement came to an abrupt end as Eddie nearly leaped from the stool to the desk and yanked the plug out of its socket. The two-pronged head hit the floor with a soft thud.

“Hey!” Your eyes widened in confusion and then disbelief, flickering over to where he stood. You expected him to wear a scowl that matched your own; instead, he looked like he’d just taken a knife to the gut, and you took a step back. “Whoa, you okay?”

Eddie tensed the moment he detected your sympathetic tone, shoulders pinched and jaw rigid. “‘M fine.” He pressed the heel of his left hand atop his right knuckles until they cracked. “Sorry.” He bent down and gently plugged the cord back into the wall, but you immediately flicked the power button to the off-position.

It was silent for a full minute, save for the scorer against the wall and the scratch of pen on paper. When Eddie finally spoke, his voice was so soft that you barely heard it.

“That was my band.”

Confusion creased your brows. You set down your pen and stole a glance at him. His body remained facing the wall, but he was no longer working, hands lamely at his sides. “What?”

“Death’s Echo was, uh,” he shook a rogue curl from his eyes, “that was my band.”

“Oh.” Awkwardness seeped into the room and filled every crevice as you wracked your brain for a suitable response. “But…not anymore?”

Eddie clicked his tongue. “Nope.” The p sound popped softly as though signaling the discussion’s end, but there was a pregnant pause before he started removing the wallpaper again.

“Why not?” The question sprang from your tongue, curiosity getting the best of you.

A hesitant chuckle accompanied his sigh. “I thought you didn't make small talk with strangers.” He climbed back on the step stool and ripped off a strip of paper.

“I thought we weren’t strangers anymore,” you quipped back, not missing the smile that ghosted his lips.

“Fair enough.” Eddie conceded easily, not at all angry to be proven wrong. He bit the inside of his cheek and stared up at the yellow-tinged lighting overhead before slicing into the wallpaper. “Sometimes you think you want something, but it turns out to be a steaming pile of horseshit.” The last word was punctuated by a grunt, and the last panel of wallpaper fluttered to the ground. “That’s the music industry in a nutshell.”

You nodded in agreement despite an obvious lack of knowledge.

“They sign your band,” he continued, aiming the spray bottle nozzle at the wall and pulling the trigger, “and you think it’s because they like you. Or at least your music, your sound, whatever.” He wrinkled his nose as he got an unexpected whiff of the vinegar solution’s pungency. “But you’re really just a front for whatever they want to sell. Which, apparently, is grunge.”

You had too many questions. They probably referred to record producers or agents or some other bigwigs, you surmised, but what did they do that made Eddie so cynical?

That was far too loaded to ask, at least in that moment, so you opted for a more humorous follow-up. “You mean it wasn’t all sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll?” you joked, but Eddie didn’t share in your lightheartedness.

“At the beginning, when we first got signed, yeah.” His brown eyes exuded wistfulness, remembrance of better times. He blinked twice and snapped himself out of it. “We put out a few albums that didn’t completely flop, I guess. And we were the opening act on a couple of tours. Got a good chunk of money in the bank.”

That explained the Calvin Klein underwear he was wearing on that first night. You capped your pen and leaned in, trying not to be overly inquisitive but unable to contain yourself. “So…what happened?” What led you here?

“We get called into a meeting, and we’re all thinking that the label’s gonna tell us we’re headlining, right? Maybe not, like, The Garden, but bigger venues than we usually played. But, uh…” he trailed off and rubbed the tip of his nose with an open palm, “it was an ultimatum: shift from metal to grunge, or get dropped.”

You listened intently as Eddie relayed the ordeal. The label executives had cited the increasing popularity of Nirvana and Pearl Jam along with decreasing interest in heavy metal bands. “Cobain’s selling; Ozzy isn’t,” they’d explained. If Death’s Echo wanted to play to packed arenas and have their music on mainstream radio, they had to adapt to the times.

“I told them we weren’t sellouts and to kiss my ass,” Eddie said to you, huffing out an annoyed breath. “But the rest of the band didn’t give a shit about that; if those suits told them to jump, they’d say ‘how high.’ So, I quit and waited for them to come crawling back.”

He didn’t elaborate after that. He didn’t need to. Because if they’d done as Eddie had hoped, he wouldn’t be performing manual labor just to live in a struggling motel, basking in the gloominess that he wore like a second skin.

“If you could go back and do it differently, would you?” You grimaced at your own intrusiveness. “Sorry, that was—”

“It’s fine.” Eddie didn’t give an answer right away, his teeth grating against his lower lip. “Y’know, I’d like to say no, but losing your record deal, your apartment, your girlfriend, your so-called ‘friends,’ and every nice thing you own can make a guy kinda cynical.”

Girlfriend?

It was far from the most dire item on that list, but it needled at you. Maybe it was the mental image of Eddie watching everything get taken from him and then adding heartbreak on top of it all.

“How about you?”

His voice yanked you from your thoughts and had your heart in your throat. “Huh?”

“You. Your whole deal.” He gestured at you with the scraper. “Why you’re always doing homework like a little nerd.” You couldn't detect a note of taunting in his teasing, only playfulness, just as it had been that very first night.

You scowled for only a second before a smile broke through. “Don’t you have wallpaper to remove?”

Eddie snorted out a laugh. “I see how it is: when it’s my shit, I’m free to talk. But when it’s your shit, I’m a lowly employee.” He held up both hands in mock surrender. “My deepest apologies, Heiress.”

You didn’t bother to argue, choosing instead to pivot to a new subject altogether. “How long does this take, anyway?” Walking out from behind the desk to inspect his work, you ran your finger down the wall. Once you got past the stench of vinegar, he was actually doing a pretty good job.

“You think you could do better?” He saw your gentle ribbing and upped the ante, holding out the putty scraper as if saying, be my guest.

Plucking it from his grasp, you smirked and chose a spot right at eye level. Challenge accepted.

Though the glue had softened considerably, removing it still required decent muscle. You put your bodyweight into it and pushed through the resistance, but you only managed to pull off a little bit.

You heard Eddie laugh through his nose as he stood behind you, watching you struggle. “Harder than it looks, huh?” He ignored your middle finger and stepped a half-inch closer. “Let me help.”

One calloused hand dwarfed yours, his fingers wrapping around where your fist held the scraper. The other found purchase on the bicep of your free arm where your T-shirt’s cuff met skin, stabilizing without entrapping you. You could easily get out of his grasp if you wanted.

You stayed there.

He tightened his grip around yours and made short, downward strokes, admittedly taking off far more glue than you had. “There ya go,” he murmured. His breath was warm on your neck, gooseflesh rising when he spoke. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Just like that.”

Butterflies beat their wings in your stomach, a result of the unexpected proximity compounded by an unmet need for connection that starkly contrasted the night shift’s normal solitude. A loose tendril of his hair tickled against your ear, and the realization of how close your bodies actually were shattered whatever spell had been cast.

Eddie pulled away quickly, the air cooling where his hand once rested. Did he also feel that sudden loss of contact, or was it all in your head?

With a shaky breath, you stepped aside and silently returned the tool to him. “Should probably leave this to the expert,” you muttered, forcing nervous laughter. “I have to get back to writing anyway.”

His eyes bored into you as you walked back to the desk, but neither of you said another word. You glanced over at him every so often, noting the perspiration dampening his collar and under his arms as he toiled away at the glue and wished you had a water bottle to offer him.

Maybe next time.

You got halfway through the first body paragraph when Eddie spoke again.

“You’re really not gonna talk?”

You looked up to see him swipe his forearm along his brows as he shot you a tired grin.

“We just had a whole conversation,” you pointed out, returning your attention to your essay.

“About me,” he said. He wiped his palms on his pants, leaving behind a sweaty print, and traipsed over to you. “I mean, every time I see you, you’re either going to school or coming back from school or doing work for school…”

You shrugged, no big deal. “Okay, yeah, I go to school.”

“For what?”

Shit. “Hospitality and hotel management.”

“Really.” Eddie leaned over and snatched up your paper. You reached out to grab it back, but it was too late. The bridge of his nose scrunched as he read the opening paragraph to himself. “Doesn’t look like hospitality to me.” Amusement raised his brows. “Care to explain?”

It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you felt strangely obligated. He’d confided in you, so you should at least moderately indulge him.

“Fine,” you relented, “I’m studying psychology.” That might have been the first time you’d ever said those words aloud in the motel lobby; it was oddly freeing.

Eddie nodded and continued to scan the paper. “You wanna be a shrink?”

“Social worker.”

He let out a low whistle. “That’s a tough gig. Especially if you’re working with kids.” He shook the essay pages for emphasis.

“Yeah. I know.”

“Right.” He shoved one hand in his pants pocket. “What made you decide to be a social worker?”

You breathed out a laugh. “You want the easy answer or the real one?”

He didn’t hesitate before answering. “Real one. Always.” He returned your essay and rested his un-pocketed hand on the desk. Inquiring eyes beckoned you to continue.

With less trepidation than you’d anticipated, you tell him the story of that fateful day in the summer of 1987, just two years after you’d graduated from high school.

You were still working the afternoon shift, and summer break brought its usual influx of guests. People came and went in blurs of luggage, but there was one particular patron who had made her presence known.

“Hi!”

You peered over the desk to find the source of the lively greeting. A young girl, no older than five, stared back at you, syrupy grape stickiness surrounding her lips. The cause was most likely a popsicle, as evidenced by the purple stained stick clenched in her right hand.

“Um, hi,” you said with a smile that was, for the first time in a long while, not encased in customer service insincerity. “What’s your name?” And where did you come from?

Unfazed by your bewilderment, she introduced herself as Izzy and asked you if you wanted to play. “We just have to stay here, or else my mommy will get mad,” she explained with urgency.

You nodded slowly, sorting through the information without raising any alarm. “And where is your mommy?”

Izzy’s hazel eyes darted back towards the hallway. “In our room. She’s with a friend so I can’t go in.” She dropped her voice to what she considered a whisper, but it was still clear as day. “Her friend is a boy.”

Your stomach turned. Of course. Instead of watching her child, this mother was probably shooting up with her boyfriend of the week.

“I can’t play right now, but you can sit here with me until your mommy and her friend come back out,” you said. “I have paper and pens if you wanna draw.”

This satisfied her, and she plopped down on the floor and patted the spot next to her. That day hadn’t been particularly hectic, so you obliged and sat.

“What’re you gonna draw?” Izzy asked, reaching for a blue pen. You didn’t have time to answer before she proudly announced, “I’m gonna draw a flower. Do you like flowers?”

“Mhm.”

Izzy smiled as she surrounded a circle with swirling loops. “You can draw a flower, too. Maybe a rose. Or a sunflower!”

Her excitement at the latter option was all you needed. “Sunflower it is, Miss Izzy.” You drew a circle of your own and filled it with a cross-hatched pattern, curating pointed-tipped petals around it.

“D’you have crayons?” she asked, not looking up from her own flower.

You put down your pen and offered a pitying frown. “No, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. You should get some, though. ‘Cause you can draw prettier flowers with crayons.”

The two of you stayed on the floor for ten minutes. All the while, she quizzed you on your favorite color, animal, food, and TV show. She was halfway through a heated explanation of why Friend Bear was superior to Share Bear when a frantic voice called out her name.

“Mommy!” Izzy practically flew into her mother’s arms. You watched as the woman’s entire body sagged in relief, pulling her daughter in close. A man trailed behind her, discreetly zipping up his fly and walking out the front door.

“Izzy, I told you to sit in the hall and eat your ice pop,” her mom gently scolded, words muffled by her lips being pressed to Izzy’s scalp.

Izzy scrunched her nose in confusion. “But I finished it.” She pointed at the empty stick, now on the ground where she’d been sitting, as proof. In true childlike fashion, she jumped to a new topic without waiting for the first conversation to conclude. “Mommy, you wanna see what I drawed?”

“Of course, baby.” She easily feigned excitement as Izzy presented her with a series of scribbles that were meant to be various flowers, people, and farm animals. “Wow! I think you’re gonna be an artist one day.”

The little girl continued chatting, blissfully unaware of the panic she’d inadvertently caused. Her mom allowed herself to look away for just a moment to glance at you, mouthing a tiny “thank you” and blinking her tear-filled eyes.

“And…I don’t know,” you lamely supplied as you wrapped up the story. “I guess I realized that I had all of these assumptions, this sort of preconceived notion that this woman was a deadbeat parent, but she obviously loved Izzy more than anything.” You picked at your thumbnail nervously. “No one should have to sell their body for money just to survive. She deserved better than that.”

Eddie stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing everything you’d thrown at him. “And you wanted to help her,” he finally said.

“Yeah.” You thought back to the way her gaze simultaneously held gratitude and guilt. Her daughter was safe, but she knew that this was not the final time she’d be in this predicament.

The experience had awakened a realization in you: working at the motel was never your dream, but it kept a roof over your head and food in your belly. You weren’t left to navigate the world on your own. Independence was a privilege, not a mandate.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie broke in, “I think you’ll be a great social worker someday.” He rapped his knuckles on the desk twice and slipped back to the awaiting task; despite insisting that you talked to him while he worked, he hadn’t touched any of the tools while you spoke.

Your smile was a thank you, and you tuned the radio back to the metal station Eddie had chosen earlier. He didn’t say anything else, but you noted the subtle tap of his toe against the drop cloth.

Eddie worked for a few more hours until he’d stripped the wall of all paper and glue. “All right,” he said, balancing the step stool on two fingers. Sleepiness softened his own smile, all lips and no teeth. “Let me know when the new wallpaper comes in. You, uh, know where I live.”

“Will do.” Your thumb absently grazed against the words you’d just written, smudging them. You rubbed at the black ink seeping into your skin, silently chastising your own carelessness. “Good night, Eddie.”

He stretched and scratched at the U-neck of his collar, exposing a sliver of chest hair.

“Sweet dreams, Heiress.”

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @munson-mjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @munsonsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

334 notes · View notes

andvys · 2 months

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u

Series masterlist ⭐︎ Previous chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back.

The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both.

You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before.

You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend.

But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second.

You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him.

You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion.

“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!”

“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”

Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair.

“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.”

He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words.

“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!”

You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously.

“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him.

Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering.

Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters.

Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have.

“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches.

“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.

Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity.

Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.

“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs.

You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one.

“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet.

Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror.

“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.”

You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh.

“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this… fancy.”

“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”

He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form.

“A little black dress.”

“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort.

He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.”

Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it.

Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.

But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago.

She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama.

On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce.

As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas.

“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.”

“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat.

“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.”

“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy Barbecue grill.”

He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy Barbecue grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”

You snort.

“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap.

“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle.

“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”

You scoff.

“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”

Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?”

Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement.

The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead.

The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect.

Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously.

You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face.

Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door.

Eddie though, he starts chuckling.

Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more.

The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you.

“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.”

The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch.

Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”

Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”

“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.”

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy.

You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers.

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers.

You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything.

But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm.

“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”

When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music.

You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related.

Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face.

You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively.

She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.”

A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.”

She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”

Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.

She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”

“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.

“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”

Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.”

Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen.

“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin.

You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.

His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard.

You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt.

You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else.

It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t.

And you can’t help but love it.

Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.

You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was.

Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.

“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.

You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees.

But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first.

“Blondie.”

“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head.

“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you.

“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”

“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch.

Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face.

You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him.

Hopper shakes his head, chuckling.

“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”

“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes.

“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.”

At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask.

Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips.

None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it.

“Yeah.”

“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile.

You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you.

“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”

“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”

“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes.

“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!”

Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you.

You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again.

But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.

You smirk at him, tilting your head.

“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”

He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”

Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise.

“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder.

“Why me…” Steve mutters.

“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes again.

“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan.

If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing.

“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum.

You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again.

“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side.

Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued.

“I never got to taste it,” you pout.

He swallows harshly.

“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either.

But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent.

You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.

He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum.

He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it.

While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp.

Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare.

Got you. He thinks.

You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle.

Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy?

He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.

And then, he steps away like nothing happened.

Because it was nothing… to him.

Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.”

You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks.

You scrunch your face up at him.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not.

Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw.

“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”

He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”

“A horrible one at that.”

He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear.

“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.”

He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again.

He left you speechless.

He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.”

You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink.

Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face.

It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does.

You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the Barbecue lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other.

As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness.

You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have.

You look down, frowning at your drink.

The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table.

You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him.

“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning.

You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly.

You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.

“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”

“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”

“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”

“Can I try?”

You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”

“Too sweet?”

He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”

“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”

“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”

"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.”

“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”

“You only took one sip!”

He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers.

“Two sips.”

You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”

“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”

“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him.

“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”

“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”

“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”

Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you.

The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P.

He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm.

He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp.

The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you.

Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too.

With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously.

What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you?

“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”

He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little.

“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face.

He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question.

You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning.

Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington.

When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries.

Joyce looks down in amusement.

Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike.

“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow.

He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face.

His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up.

Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table.

You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech.

Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand.

“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.”

Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little.

“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.”

“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.”

“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”

You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved.

El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again.

Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you.

And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this.

“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in.

It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness.

When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh.

“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?”

“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly.

El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!”

Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple.

You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes.

“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.”

Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be.

“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily.

“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.

“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!”

Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike.

After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.

The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle.

And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours.

You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you.

You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you.

You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans.

With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.

Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.

Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway.

What the hell.

You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous.

You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve.

But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Running away from me?” Steve asks.

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights.

“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door.

His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time.

His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you.

You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.

“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”

Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Maybe.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car.

“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.”

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw.

He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car.

He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight.

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word.

Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat.

Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it.

The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him.

You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’

“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.

A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along.

“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something.

With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day.

He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers.

He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something.

He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him.

The teasing, the touches, the… flirting.

Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.

He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long.

He was guided by lust, not by interest.

Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you.

All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you.

But it’s something that will never happen again.

He swears, it will never happen again.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem

I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

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