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justmeinadaze · 2 months

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Don't Be So Hard Part 3 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: As I'm sure you are used to by now, this chapter carries all the feels. Please enjoy!

Warnings: Older Steddie (Early 30s), Dom Coach Steve Harrington/ Dom Professor Eddie Munson/ Sub (Early 20s) Plus Size Fem Y/N

SMUT, a bit softer this time, intimacy between steddie as well as with the reader

ANGST, Things from the show are mentioned including what happened with Eddie and the earthquake, trauma is expanded upon from things they experienced including both men having nightmares, mentions of the lose of a parent and grief regarding that (reader lost her father who was a first responder).

Reader finally gets to deal with some of the chaos with Martin with and his dad where she talks to the dean about what happened within chapter one. Of course his dad is a dick.

I think that's everything.

Last Chapter here

Word Count: 6532

Eddie bolts up right as he wakes up from another nightmare.

Since you started spending the night, he noticed he had been having them more frequently. He assumed it was due to the stress of everything that had happened with you and starting this new dynamic which is why he bypassed telling Steve he had been having them even though he promised after the last time he would.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he glanced your way, softly smiling at your sleeping frame as his boyfriend cuddled you to his chest.

After moving the covers, he scooted to the bathroom gripping his side where his old scar ached as he prepared for the long day ahead.

***

It had been a couple of weeks since you and the guys agreed to take things one step at a time. You talked with Theo, telling him you didn’t feel like you were ready for a relationship at the moment and to your surprise he more than understood.

“I get it. If you ever change your mind though, I’m here.”

Martin had returned to his classes, his presence freezing you entirely when you saw him sitting at a desk across the room. Eddie had beckoned you over with his finger, guiding you into his office.

“Are you going to be alright? He’s been instructed by his ‘lawyer’ to not talk to you.”

“Lawyer?”

“His dad.”, he sighs as he rolls his eyes. “They’re contesting Steve kicking him off the team but I’m not sure why they waited so long. I offered an alternative course he could take or a different time he can take my class but he refused.”

“It’s ok. I’ll be ok.”

His palms cup your cheeks as his thumbs run along your face.

“Ok. I’m going to keep an eye on him. You’re safe in my classroom, sweetheart.”

Smiling, you reach up to kiss his lips.

“I know.”

You loved spending time with them on and off campus. Steve ran with you sometimes on the track after your lunch and Eddie would give you books from his office he thought you would enjoy so you could talk about them as soon as you finished.

They couldn’t take you on dates but they did what they could, making you dinner, renting movies, and sometimes just hanging out on their living room floor talking. You absolutely enjoyed having conversations with them. Eddie seemed to be an adorable nerd regaling you with tales of his band days and how much he missed playing. Steve was a phenomenal listener asking questions and making sure you felt heard. You always returned the favor when it came to him and sports. You didn’t know much on the topic but you adored seeing the man’s eyes light up when he talked about his teams over the years and his hopes for the future.

Your evenings in their bed were euphoric to say the least. They were rough in the best possible way but even better they knew when to be aggressive and when to be soft. Sometimes they were a good mix of both making you cum repeatedly till you were practically convulsing on their mattress.

“Come on, honey. Give us one more. You can do it, baby. Just focus that fuzzy little brain and let go.”

“I-I-I can’t, Mr. Harrington, please.”

“It didn’t sound like to me he was asking, little girl. Now keep those legs open and give us what we want. If you close them one more time, Steve isn’t going to give you what YOU want.”

“What do you want, Y/N?”, the man cooed above you as his nose grazed yours. “Tell us.”

“I—fuck—I need you to fill me up…like Mr. Munson did. Please!”

Steve thrust into you harder, hitting your overly sensitive and abused g-spot till you were screaming his name.

“There she is! Atta girl. Our good little toy…fuck, baby, your pussy’s still clinging to me. I’m going to give her what she wants.”

His grunts filled your ear as he warmed your insides with both men kissing your neck as you came down from your high.

Afterwards, they would hold you to them whispering praises and how beautiful you were till you fell asleep. Things had been going incredibly well for you but little did you know what was going on behind the scenes.

One morning at 3am, you woke up alone but noticed their bathroom door open a crack with the light shining brightly through. Eddie was leaning against the counter on the floor with his knees to his chin as he appeared to be rocking back and forth. You vaguely made out Steve’s palms around his boyfriend’s arms as he whispered comforts that didn’t make any sense.

“It’s ok, honey. You’re ok. You’re safe. I’m right here, baby. Vecna’s gone and those things can’t get to you. All the gates are closed.”

Eddie’s whimpers took a while to hit your ears but when you finally heard it, it killed you. While his partner tried to comfort him, your professor was repeatedly saying the same sentence under his breath.

“I don’t wanna die.”

####################

“Mr. Harrington, your job is to make sure these kids have the best chance at success!”

“I understand that Dean Gillman but that doesn’t require me to coddle them especially when they do something as terrible as what Martin Click did!”

You listen outside the dean’s office as you wait to be called in having received a letter to attend a meeting “regarding the matter of dismissal of Mr. Click.” As soon as you entered the waiting area, Steve’s agitated tone hit you. Your heart broke for him knowing he was just doing what he thought was right.

“ALLEDGEDLY did.”, said a man you didn’t recognize. “My son isn’t like that freak you spend all your time with.”

“Son of a bitch—”

“That is enough!”, the dean yelled before his voice followed through the reception intercom. “Is Miss Y/L/N here yet?”

When the secretary confirms, she flashes you a comforting smile and gestures towards the office. Right as you walk in, all the masculine energy hits you at once. Steve is fuming but he gently tries to grin your way so you know everything is alright. The dean’s frustrated eyes don’t mask the heavy worry behind them, for you or the star quarterback you weren’t sure. The other man you assumed to be Martin’s father didn’t even turn your way as you took a seat between them.

“Miss Y/L/N, we called you here because as you’re aware Martin Click was cut from the football team by Coach Harrington here. We have heard all sides of the story as to why but we would like to hear yours.”

“Yes, sir. Um, I was at the diner downtown studying for one of my classes and as I got up to leave Martin said something rude—”

“What did he say?”

“Um… he mentioned my weight—”

“But what exactly did he say?”, Martin’s dad asked sternly cutting you off again.

“If you stop interrupting her and let her finish maybe you’ll find out.”, Steve defended.

“He called me his favorite piggy. That’s your sons nickname for me since freshman year.”, you growl his way before focusing back on the dean. “I just wanted to leave and go back to my dorm. He followed me out the front door and said I shouldn’t disrespect him in front of his friends—”

“Did you?”

“Does that matter?!”, you yell, fed up with his attitude. “And no for your information. I ignored his rude comment and walked to my car where he pulled my backpack, choked me, and tore my shirt!”

“That’s when Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson stepped in?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Harrington threatened to suspend him but Martin was rude and didn’t like that so…”

“This doesn’t sound like my son.”

“I’ve witnessed him harassing her before. Usually, I just reprimand him but this time he went too far.”

“Look, I don’t want to take this to court but I will if I have to. My son deserves to be on this team.”

“Why because his daddy was a quarterback 15 years ago?”

“Said Mr. King Steve Harrington here whose parents have their hands in everything in Hawkins. Do you really think after everything you got this job because you’re a good coach?!”

“Jared…”, the dean warned.

“Hell, even this little girl. Everyone is going to believe any claims she makes because her father was a hero and my son gets thrown under the bus!”

You rise angerly to your feet but as you step forward, Steve hastily takes hold of your arm and holds you back.

“Don’t you dare talk about my dad!”

“That is enough! I will personally see to this investigation and notify everyone on the outcome. Mr. Click is to still stay away from Y/N and at this time is still cut from the team.”

Martin’s dad storms out and you thank the dean as you follow suit.

Steve’s sneakers squeak as he trails behind you and you don’t need to be told where you need to go as you turn into Eddie’s classroom. At the sound of the door opening, your professor quickly stood from the desk he was sitting at doing some busy work.

“What happened? Is everything alright?”

“Hey, look at me. Are you ok?”, the coach asks as you began to pace.

“I’m ok. I just…hated that fucking asshole talking about my father.”

Eddie’s gaze shifts towards his boyfriend in confusion who tries to explain as best he can.

“Dean Gillman is going to finish their investigation on what happened. Jared seems to believe his son is innocent but everyone will take Y/N’s side because her father was a hero.”

“I didn’t know that, sweetheart.”

“I-It’s ok. Most people don’t anymore and I’m not surprised with whatever you both were dealing with at the time that gave you those scars.” You force a smile as you dry the tears that started to fall. “My dad was a first responder. He was out in the field when the earthquake hit… They told my mother and I that he saved over 30 people before one of the buildings he was in…”

Eddie power walked towards you and pulled you into his arms as you cried, not caring if someone walked by and saw. Steve’s head hung as his eyes closed, remembering the chaos they came back to. He didn’t have time to focus on anything else except Eddie and Max when they found them.

Afterwards, he and Robin did what they could to volunteer and help but he was ashamed to say he never heard the story of your dad. What killed him even more was that maybe your father would still be alive if he and the gang had gotten to Vecna sooner. He always carried that when it came to Eddie. Every time he kissed his scars or held him after a nightmare, Steve blamed himself. If he had been more careful, if he had fought harder with the vines before being pinned, if he had been better…

***

Eddie stood still as the bats began swarming around him.

Suddenly, one screeched as it dived towards him and he blocked it expertly with his shield.

“COME ON!”, he shouted at the sky as he continued to fight.

A scream caught his attention causing him to turn that way and squint through the horde surrounding him. You were being attacked as well but the creatures already had you pinned to the floor.

“Y/N?! I’m coming, sweetheart!”

He ran forward but was blocked by a bat that hit him in the chest pushing him backwards. As he continued to try, he was repeatedly stopped as he growled in frustration.

“NO! Take me, you little fuckers! I deserve it! Leave her alone!”

“Eddie! Steve! Please, help me!”

A tail wrapped around his neck yanking him to the ground as a couple of others did the same with his wrists and ankles.

“Y/N!”

His head swiveled in your direction as your own tilted and your body stopped moving.

You were gone.

“NO!”

Eddie’s shriek jolted Steve awake as he promptly sat up and attempted to calm his boyfriend.

“Eddie! Eddie! You’re ok! Everything’s ok, baby!”

“Y/N…Y/N…we need to…where is she…”

“She’s in her dorm tonight, remember? She said she had to study for a test.”

“We need to make sure she’s ok. Vecna’s going to hurt her. Come on.”

“Honey, honey, honey. Vecna’s dead, it’s 2am, and I’m sure she’s safe in her bed.”

“I have to go check, Steve.”, he announced as he got out of bed and headed for the closet to find a shirt.

“Ok, wait. I’ll call her so you can talk to her.”

“NO! You’re not listening! We need to make sure she’s ok!”

***

At 2:15 you were knocking on their door with an exhausted Steve swinging it open.

“I’m sorry. I tried to get him to call you so he could hear your voice but...”

As soon as you stepped into their house Eddie was on you, his shaking hands cupping your face.

“Are you alright?!”

“Yeah, baby. I’m ok. Everything is ok.”, you coo in a soft tone as you bring your lips to his.

“I saw you, Y/N.” His voice cracked as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I saw you in that place and the bats had you pinned. I couldn’t get to you. I tried…I tried to save you…”

“What place, Eddie? I don’t understand.”

Dropping to his knees, he pressed his face into your stomach as he sobbed mumbling something you couldn’t understand. As you petted his head trying to comfort him, you glanced towards Steve who was now sitting on the edge of the couch with his elbows on his knees, his jaw tight as he glared at the wall trying to keep his emotions in check.

“It’s ok, baby. I’m right here. No one is going to hurt me or you two. You’re safe, Eddie. Steve, honey, can you get me a pillow?”

Nodding, he disappeared before returning and handing you what you ask for. You thank him, tossing it to the floor, and guiding the metalhead gently down with you as you hold his head to your chest. Another pillow drops beside you and you are suddenly covered with a blanket as Steve descends to lay behind his boyfriend.

After a while, Eddie became silent and you both realized he had finally fallen asleep.

“Thank you for coming over.”

“Of course.”, you whisper as you reach over to caress Steve’s face. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m alright, honey. Thank you.”

“You can tell me the truth.”

The man sighs as he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“It’s been a while since he had nightmares that were this bad. He promised me he would tell me when they were getting worse again.” Your eyes scan his as you wait for him to continue. “We had an incident a few years ago where the nightmares were so bad he just refused to sleep. Scared the hell out of me.”

“What about you? Do you have nightmares?”

“Naw, not like his.”

“But you have them…”

Steve flashes you a smile as he shrugs.

“It’s not a big deal. My ordeal wasn’t as bad as his.”

“So? Steve, you still have scars. Literally. Just because they aren’t as bad as his doesn’t mean what you went through didn’t hurt.” The coach heavily sighed as he scooted closer to Eddie and wrapped his arm around his waist. “I used to think the same way…after my father died. Everyone in town lost so much, their homes, livelihoods, children and other family members. I thought I had no right to grieve as long as I did…do… but then I realized that it was ok. There’s no timetable or measurement on grief or pain. It’s all valid.”

Leaning over his partner, Steve placed a tender kiss on your lips.

“You’re really beautiful, you know that?”, he whispers making you smile as he lays back down and you both fall asleep.

################

Eddie stirred at the smell of something cooking, his eyes slowly opening as he realizes you’re no longer next to him. Rising to his feet, he pried Steve’s arm from his hip and went on the hunt for you, finding you in their kitchen.

“Hey. How’d you sleep?”, you ask as his chocolate eyes take you in.

Last night he was too in his own head to get a good look at you so he didn’t notice you came over in your pajamas and in that moment he realized he had never seen you in your own sleepwear. Usually, when you came over you were dressed as you were that day and fell asleep naked or in one of their shirts.

Right now, you seemed extremely comfortable in your red flannel pants and two sizes too big hoodie with the campus insignia etched on the front. Your hair was up in a messy bun and your face didn’t have any of the makeup you normally wore.

You were perfect.

Coming up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your middle and you smiled as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you for coming over. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

As you lean into his embrace, you rest your arms over his.

“You didn’t scare me. I was more worried than anything…about both of you.” Turning off the stove, you turned around to face him, cupping his cheeks to bring his lips to yours. “Do you want to tell me about your dream?”

You sigh as he kisses your forehead before letting you go and taking a seat at their table. Eddie doesn’t move or say anything as he listens to you shuffle around behind him. After placing a plate in front of him with a cup of coffee, you head to where Steve was still sleeping and he watches as you tenderly run your fingers through his hair.

“Steve, baby. I made some food and coffee. Are you hungry?”

The man grunts out a cute uh-huh but as he reaches forward and finds no one his eyes widen as they fill with panic.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s ok. Eddie’s at the table already. He’s alright.”, you murmur as he nods.

After taking a seat beside his boyfriend, he reaches for his hand and exhales heavily when the man squeezes it lightly and pulls away to grab his fork. Once you and Steve have your own plates, everyone silently nibbles on their food as an awkward silence hangs in the hair.

You knew they were hiding things from you but you promised not to ask or push so you did what you could to be there ignoring your own worry as they silently struggled. Eddie seemed to be doing the same, silently struggling in his own head which bothered Steve out of his own worry and fear for the man he loved. But the coach held in things of his own saying he could handle it but as you watched him move food around his plate as his head hung, it was clear he couldn’t anymore.

“I’m afraid of water.”, you blurt causing both their eyes to shoot your way as you smile softly. “Not like water, water… I can swim in a pool and stuff but as long as my feet can touch the bottom. When I was little my dad took me to see Jaws and didn’t tell my mom. His thinking was ‘It’s PG so it can’t be that terrifying.’ I was apparently doing ok until the scene where the boy gets eaten. It’s funny even now I think of the stupid fins in the air and I just…” As you jokingly shudder, a smile spreads across their faces.

“After that moment, if I can’t see what’s below me…? No, thank you.”

“I didn’t know who Ozzy Osbourne was till I met Eddie.”, Steve says nonchalantly as he pretends to play with his food, grinning widely when you both laugh.

“Are you serious? Who doesn’t know him? I mean…if you don’t know his music at least you know him as the guy who bit a bat’s head off on stage!”

“Nope. No clue.”

“He’s a bit repressed, babe.”, Eddie cuts in. “Don’t worry. I’ve got him up to speed.”

“Iron Man is a good song. I know metalhead here can play the guitar for it.”

The long-haired boy flashes his partner a toothy grin as he leans back in his chair.

“Um, I don’t know, I like D & D. I haven’t played in a while but…”

“I knew that about you. It’s still a very prominent club at Hawkins high just so you know.”, you giggle.

“Really? Were you a member?”

“No, God no. I have no idea how to do any of that.”

“Maybe…Maybe I can teach you.”, Eddie replies almost shyly making you blush.

“I’d like that.”

His eyes lock with yours for a moment before abruptly leaning over the table kiss your lips. They had never met anyone like you let alone anyone who was as kind and adorable as you were being outside of their original friend group. Eddie knew he would never get you to understand how much they appreciated that but he would do whatever he could to protect you and make sure you were happy because you deserved it.

“Also Steve has never seen the movie version of your play.”

“Fucking tattletale.”, Steve joked as your wide, amused eyes met his.

“Well, I know what we’re doing today.”

###############

You spent the entire day with them making them laugh and forgetting their worries. Eddie ordered a pizza from a restaurant you had never been to and Steve quickly ran out to rent Rocky Horror so you three could watch it.

“So, you’re going to wear that teddy and lace, right, babe?”

“If that’s what you want, Steve Harrington.”, Eddie cooed playfully towards him. “Good luck finding that anywhere within Hawkins. I’m not even sure how Lilah is doing that.”

“She went on a road trip out of state and brought back some things.”, you grin. “Some of what she brought back doesn’t quite fit me so we’re trying to tailor them but I may need to go buy my own.”

“Can we help?”, the metalhead asks seductively as he crawls to where you were sitting on their floor.

“Oh, of course.”

“If we go out of state we can take you on a date.” Both your gazes shift to the pretty boy who slides off the couch to lean against it beside you as Eddie sits up and crossed his legs. “I feel bad that we haven’t been able to do that.”

“It’s ok—”

“No, it’s not. We like you…a lot. We don’t want you to feel used.”

Leaning against his shoulder, you nudge your head against Steve like a cat saying hello.

“I like when you use me though.”

“Ah ah. Focus, honey.”, he chuckles as he pats your knee.

“If we leave Hawkins you two can be intimate. You’ll be able to hold hands and stuff.”

“Oh yeah because everyone in the world is so accepting.”, Eddie smirks. “I’d still hold your hand and sloppily kiss you in public here if you wanted me to.”

Steve smiles tenderly as he caresses his cheek.

“You’ve been through enough. I don’t want to rile up the down again and have them fucking trying to kill you.”

“Did that happen?”, you ask genuinely surprised.

“I mean…I was on the run.”

“And? They shouldn’t be hurting you or trying to kill you. No matter what you’re being accused of.” You pause, deciding on if you should ask what you’re thinking. “Is that why you have nightmares? Is that why you say you don’t want to die?”

Both sets of eyes shifted your way as their eyebrows furrowed together.

“I heard you one night in the bathroom. Steve was trying to calm you down and you kept saying you didn’t want to die.”

Eddie fidgets with his fingers as he stares down at the carpet.

“In my dreams, everything’s the same. I’m not too far from my trailer and the bats are swarming around me. I fight…I die. Last night I heard you screaming for us and I saw them pinning you to the ground…” Steve’s eyes close as he listens to the man he loves speak. “I couldn’t get to you. Those fuckers kept pushing me back every time I tried to run forward. Then you were gone…”

“It’s ok, Eddie, baby. I’m right here. Nothing bad is going to happen to me.”

“I sometimes dream about those bats. Thankfully Eddie and our friends got to me in time before… Most of my dreams are actually about us finding him and Max. If not that then those fucking Russian soldiers who beat the shit out of me.”

“W-What? Steve…I don’t…”

You listen with wide eyes as they talked, none of their words making any sense. You vaguely remembered Will Byers disappearing and suddenly being found, the mall fire, and of course everything with Eddie but the blanks they filled in just left you confused.

“And that’s not even everything…but what I did just tell you could get us into serious trouble…”, Steve sighed as he dared to look your way. “When we got back everything in Hawkins was a mess but I had to get him to a hospital and be there for my friends. I didn’t even know about your father… I’m so sorry, Y/N. We…we did everything we could but…we were still too late.”

Silently, you rose to your feet and numbly headed for their front door.

“Y/N, wait—”

As Eddie’s hand grabbed your arm, you turned your body and smacked his cheek.

“How dare you. Do-Do you two just need attention or did you think this was funny?!”

“Do you see us laughing?”, Steve exhales as he stands as well. “We don’t expect you to believe us but like we said we like you.”

“And we trust you.”

Shaking your head in disgust, you leave their home as you loudly slam the door shut.

#############

This time Steve was the one to wake up screaming with Eddie there to comfort him as he hadn’t been able to sleep.

“It’s ok, babe. Everything’s ok.”

“Russians…Y/N was screaming…I couldn’t—”

“Get to her? Yeah.”

“Fuck.”, the man sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “What…What time is it?”

“Um, a little after 7am. Why?”

“The library is open. Can we…?”

After throwing on some clothes, Eddie drove them downtown to the library with his boyfriend in tow who silently stared out the window the whole way. No one seemed to be there which they appreciated, not wanting to be around anyone as they struggled with the computer in front of them.

“I don’t know how this fucking thing…”

“I got it, sweetheart. Let me see what I can find.” Steve leaned his head against Eddie’s shoulder not caring in that moment if anyone saw. He was so grateful he was there and knew what he needed without having to say a word. “There he is. It looks like the mayor’s office did a whole tribute for people that were lost that day.”

Both men stared at the image of your dad in his firefighter uniform as the metalhead softly read the caption underneath.

“Fredrick Y/L/N, firefighter first responder, died March 27, 1986, after saving thirty people that were stranded in a nearby housing facility after the earthquake shook Hawkins. The building he was in was unstable but managed to clear the structure before it came down. The residents tried to save him but were unable.”

“Jesus.”, Steve exhaled as Eddie continued to scroll.

“Steven, look. There she is.”

As he points to screen, they both take in your sad little face as you stand beside your mom who was accepting your dad’s metal of heroism from the new mayor.

“I didn’t want to be there.” Even though you’re whispering, both men are startled by the sound of your voice as you step closer. Your eyes were just as hollow as theirs, as if you to hadn’t gotten much if any sleep. “My mom said I had to but I just wanted to stay in bed. The mayor and people in town kept talking to us and thanking us. I kept thinking ‘What for? My dad was the one who did anything.’ I guess it just made people feel better.”

Pulling up a chair, you sit behind them, and dig through your backpack before producing a few photocopied articles you had found the evening prior before the librarian kicked you out to close. One had the wanted photo of Eddie that had been placed around town as well as the defaced pictures of his Missing Person posters. Another someone must have snuck in to take had the metalhead in a hospital bed, handcuffed to the rail, and hooked up to so many machines.

One article was about the fire at the mall with a photo of the building. Within the EMS van in the background was a younger Steve with a bloody face and a blanket wrapped around his arms. The other papers in your hand, you flipped through quickly displaying stories of corruption in Hawkins, the shutdown of the lab, and people mysteriously disappearing.

Taking a hold of everything, Steve slid them back into your backpack and gestured for you to follow them out the front door. Silently, Eddie opened the back door to his van and reached for your hand to help you in before jumping in behind you. The other man took his keys, starting the car, and drove out of the parking lot.

***

When you woke up, you were still in the back of their van but you had fallen asleep in Eddie’s arms utilizing one as a pillow as his steady breathing warmed the back of your neck. The doors were open as Steve sat on the edge staring out into a field you didn’t recognize.

Sliding out of the metalhead’s embrace, you crawled to the end and placed yourself beside the other boy.

“Where are we?”

“Trailer Park.”, he answered without looking your way. “After the earthquake, they moved everyone way from the area because it was so close to one of the cracks. Since it cut through their trailer, they left it here.” He gestured in front of him towards the structure that was practically cut in half.

Words were graffitied along the side that read “Freak” and “Murderer” and the windows that you could see were smashed open.

“This is where Chrissy died.”, Eddie whispered as he crawled over to sit next to you. “I tried to save her but…”

“How long were you in the hospital?”

“Over a month. They were pretty sure I wasn’t going to make it. Stevie here stayed with me and checked on me every day or so I was told.”, he smiled. “When I woke up, I was terrified but he was there.”

“When Hopper came back, he helped clear his name but obviously this town has a mind of their own.”, Steve added.

“Why do you stay?”

“We’re pretty sure Vecna is gone and never coming back…that all the evil he brought with him has disappeared but…Eddie and I decided a long time ago that we would stay and protect people if we were wrong.”

“The same people that called him a murderer? That demean you and hurt you both?”

“It’s more than that, Y/N. There are A LOT of good people here to…people like you.”

Your palm reached out to caress Eddie’s face as he smiled, placing his hand over yours.

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

“It’s alright.”, he shrugs. “I would have been shocked if you immediately believed us, honestly.”

The hand you had on his cheek trailed down the man’s chest and lingered at the hem of his shirt. Pausing for only a moment, he lifted it over his head and allowed you get a good look with new eyes.

“Now I see why you like to take control.”, you smirked making him smile as well. “Eddie, baby, I’m so sor—”

His palms grabbing your cheeks and bringing your lips to his cut you off as he passionately kissed you, guiding you onto your back as he grinds his lower half against yours.

In hurried, needy motions, he yanked down your pants and panties, tossing them to the side before pressing his face into your cunt. As his lips and tongue devoured you, Steve fell by your side, lifting off your shirt, and kissing you at a much delicate pace than his partner as his palm roamed your breast.

Both their actions felt completely different than how they normally were with you so you decided to do something different as well as your hand tangled into Eddie’s messy hair.

“Oh my God, Eddie. That f-feels so good.”

Pushing up on your elbows, you watched as Steve’s mouth trailed down your stomach before the metalhead tilted upward so he could kiss his boyfriend’s lips. Besides that one time, they were rarely intimate in front of you when you three played but seeing them now after hearing their story had you clenching around Eddie’s fingers as he slid them into your pussy.

The long-haired man continued kissing any part of him he could reach as the pretty boy began sucking at your clit while your hand petted his head.

“Fuck, Steve, just like that.”

When Eddie’s tongue replaced his digits, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Both their organs flicking against you was an overwhelming sensation you had never experienced before. Your body trembled and shook as you came, your hands clinging to any piece of them you could as you floated back down to earth.

Quickly with fumbling fingers, Eddie unbuckled his belt and pushed down his jeans enough to free his cock before guiding it into your dripping core. He seemed lost in the feeling of you as he almost aggressively thrust his hips, pounding his length deep inside you.

“E-Eddie, please. Slow…slow down.”

All of a sudden, his head shot up as his eyes found yours.

“I-I’m not hurting you am I?”

“No, no, baby. I just…need you to go…a little slower…at first. I’m sorry.”, you whimper.

Flashing you a gentle smile, he brings his lips to yours as he does what you ask.

“I’M sorry, sweetheart. Whenever we…we talk about this stuff…we both tend to get…”

“It’s ok. I understand. I just… both your cocks are so big.”

The breathy laugh/whine that leaves Eddie has you softly giggling as well.

“How is that both sexy and adorable coming out of your mouth?”, he beams. “Ok, pretty girl. I’ll go slow.” As he continues to wait, you glance over his shoulder watching as Steve grips the man’s hips and scrunches his nose in pleasure as he slides into his entrance. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie falls flat against you, his arms resting on either side of you head as he groans into your ear and starts gradually thrusting. A palm caresses your cheek and you shift your gaze to the other boy as you kiss the pad of his thumb.

“Fuck, you both feel so good. Cum, baby. I need to feel it. I need to feel you.”

Nodding, you gave him the ok to pick up his pace and he obliged, pounding his hips into your own while he sucked and kissed the sweet spot on your neck. Chanting his name, you shudder as you came. Eddie slowed his rhythm as he fucked you through it, your pants warming his mouth as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Good girl.”

With heavy eyes, you watched and whined when the metalhead pulled out, smirking slightly when they switched places.

Steve’s tongue mingled with yours as he kissed your lips, maneuvering himself between your legs, and moaning as he effortlessly entered your heat. Leaning his head on yours, he loudly mewls as his boyfriend guides his cock into him and slowly pumps his hips.

“Thank you.”, Steve whimpers under his breath as he rolls his waist between you both.

“F-For what, baby. Tell me.”

“Mmm—f-for believing us. For—fuck—carrying another one of our secrets. We don’t deserve you.” He whispers out his last sentence quickly as he thrusts himself into you a bit faster and harder.

“Yes, you do Steve. After everything you both went through—shit—make me cum. Please.

Clinging to your body, he pressed his nose into your cheek as he hit that sensitive spot inside of you repeatedly while Eddie hit his when he bounced back against him. Your back arched as the coil snapped and Steve came with you, his humid breath hitting your skin as he filled you up with his release. Ringed fingers gripped his shoulders as the metalhead slammed his hips roughly into his boyfriend before falling onto his back as he pumped his spend into him.

Eddie falls beside you as Steve climbs between the seats in search of something to clean you with.

“Edward Munson.”

“Hmmm Steven Harrington.”

“Why are there no napkins or tissues in your van?”

“You keep blaming me for these things when again, babe, I wasn’t prepared to be fucking in my van.”

“Honey, how many times have we fooled around in here?”

You giggle at there banter as you reach for your backpack and dig into one of the pockets to produce a tissue.

“As a girl, I feel I always have to be prepared.” After he cleans you, you sit up and glance out into the field where the cut in half trailer rests. “Where does your family live now?”

“Um, they gave my uncle a small little home a few miles down the way. When I got out of the hospital, I stayed with him till Steve and I got our place.”

“And your parents?”

“Another time, baby. Let’s get back home and get some rest.”

Eddie smiles as he kisses your forehead and climbs into the driver’s seat while Steve sits on the passenger’s side but turns his body to face you both.

“I promise that secret is safe with me. No matter what happens.”

Both men’s eyes meet before the metalhead starts the car and begins to drive. You didn’t clarify but they knew what you meant. If anyone found out about you three or something happened where you couldn’t be together you would remain silent on everything they had told you. That particular fear was always in the back of their minds to.

After putting on your shirt and panties, you crawled into the gap between their seats and leaned your head against Eddie’s thigh as you reached out to hold Steve’s hand. Tenderly he kissed the back of it, while the metalhead brought his own palm down to play with your hair.

###############

@joannamuns9n @dckweed @corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975

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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months

Text

Stellantis wants to make scabbing woke

I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.

I know, I know, it's weird when the worst people you know are right, even when they're right for the wrong reasons: like, the "Intelligence Community" is genuinely terrible, pharma companies are murderous crooks, and Big Tech really does have a dangerous grip on public debate. The swivel-eyed loons have a point, is what I'm saying:

https://locusmag.com/2023/05/commentary-cory-doctorow-the-swivel-eyed-loons-have-a-point/

When conspiratorialists and reactionaries holler about how the FBI are dirty-tricking creeps who are framing Trump, it's tempting to say, "well, if Trumpists hate the FBI, then I will love the FBI. Who cares about COINTELPRO and what they did to Martin Luther King?"

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FBI%E2%80%93King_suicide_letter

It's a process called "schizmogenesis": forming new group identity beliefs based on saying the opposite of what your enemies say, and as tempting as that is, it's extraordinarily foolish and dangerous:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/18/schizmogenesis/

It means that canny reactionaries like Steve Bannon can trick you into taking any position merely by taking the opposite one. Bannon's followers are even more easily led, so it's easy for him to convince them that we have always been at war with Oceania. The right has created an entire mirror world of "I know you are but what am I?" politics.

Anti-vax co-opts "bodily autonomy." Climate denial becomes environmentalism ("wind turbines kill birds"). Transphobia becomes feminism ("keep women-only spaces for real women"). Support for strongmen becomes anti-imperialism ("don't feed the war machine in Ukraine"). These are the doppelgangers Naomi Klein warns us against:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

The far right has even managed to co-opt anti-corporate rhetoric. Culture warriors rail against "woke capitalism," insisting that when big businesses take socially progressive positions, it's just empty "virtue signalling." And you know what? They've got a point. Partially.

As with all mirror-world politics, the anti-woke-capitalism shuck is designed to convince low-information right-wing pismires into buying "anti-woke pillows" and demanding the right to pay junk fees to "own the libs":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

But woke capitalism is bullshit. Corporations – profit-maximizing immortal transhuman colony organisms that view workers and customers as inconvenient gut-flora – do not care about social justice. They don't care about anything, except for minimizing compensation for workers while maximizing the risk those workers bear; and locking in and gouging customers for products that are as low-quality as can be profitably sold.

Take DEI, a favored target of the right. It's undoubtably true that diversity, inclusion and equity initiatives have made some inroads on correcting bias in hiring decisions, with the result that companies get better employees who would have been excluded without this explicit corrective.

However, corporations don't value DEI because they abhor their history of hiring bias. Instead, DEI is how corporate management demonstrates to workers that their grievances are best addressed by trusting corporate leadership to correct their error of their ways – and not by forming a union.

Before the passage of the National Labor Relations Act in 1935, corporations would create fake "Company Unions" whose leadership were beholden to the company executives. These were decoy unions: they looked and sounded like unions, but when they negotiated with management, they were actually working for the bosses, not the workers.

This is more mirror-world tactics. They're the labor equivalent of the "crisis pregnancy centers" that masquerade as abortion clinics in order to fool pregnant people and trap them with endless delays until it's too late to terminate their pregnancies. Company unions get workers to trust in negotiators who are secretly working for the bosses, who emerge from the bargaining table with one-sided, abusive contracts and insist that this is the best deal workers can hope for.

Company unions were outlawed 90 years ago, and for decades, labor had a seat at the table, with wages tracking productivity gains and workers getting protection for discrimination, unsafe labor conditions, and wage-theft. Then came the neoliberal turn, and 40 years of wage stagnation, increased inequality, and corporate rule.

Anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. Finally, finally, we have reached a turning point in labor, with public approval for unions at levels not seen since the Carter administration and thousands of strikes and protests breaking out across the country:

https://striketracker.ilr.cornell.edu/

It's not just the Writers Guild and SAG-AFTRA, either. For the first time in history, the UAW is striking against all the major automakers, and they are winning:

https://arstechnica.com/cars/2023/10/striking-uaw-workers-win-key-battery-plant-concession-from-general-motors/

The automakers are getting desperate. Stellantis – Chrysler's latest alias, reflecting the company's absorbtion into corporate-human-centipede of global carmakers – has mobilized its DEI programs, trying to get marginalized people to believe that scabbing is a liberatory activity:

https://theintercept.com/2023/10/10/uaw-auto-strike-stellantis/

Stellantis calls each of its DEI silos a "Business Resource Group" (BRG): there's a "Working Parents Network," an "African Ancestry Network," "Asians Connected Together," a "DiverseAbilities Network," a "Gay & Lesbian Alliance" and more:

https://blog.stellantisnorthamerica.com/2021/07/20/business-resource-groups-drive-inclusion-and-diversity/

The corporate managers who lead these BRGs have established a scab rotation for each subgroup, calling on members to cross a UAW picket-line at a Michigan Parts Distribution Center run by Stellantis subsidiary Mopar:

Each BRG will pick a specific day of the week/weekend to volunteer as a team. Help continue to be the RESOURCE the BUSINESS can count on! Stellantis needs your help in running the Parts Distribution Centers (PDC) to ensure a steady supply of parts to our customers while negotiations continue. Working Parents Network has identified Friday, October 13 as WPN’s BRG Day at the PDCs!"

Now, these BRGs weren't invented by marginalized workers facing discrimination in the workplace. They come from literal union-busting playbooks produced by giant "union avoidance" firms that charge bosses millions for advice on skirting – or breaking – the law to keep workplace democracy at bay. All the biggest anti-union consultancies love BRGs, from Littler Mendelson to Jackson Lewis. IRI Strategies touts BRGs as a way to "union-proof" a business by absorbing workers' grievances in a decoy committee that will let them feel listened to.

BRGs, in other words, are the Crisis Pregnancy Centers of workplace discrimination. They're a Big Store Con, a company union dressed up as corporate social responsibility.

Now, let's not pretend that unions have a sterling record on race and gender issues. Giant labor organizations like the AFL had to be dragged into racial integration, and trade unions have sometimes been on the wrong side of anti-immigration panics:

https://www.archives.gov/publications/prologue/1997/summer/american-labor-movement.html

But unions have also been the most reliable way for people of color and women to win better workplace treatment. The struggle for racial and gender justice was fought through labor organizing. Remember that MLK's "I've Been To the Mountaintop" speech was given in support of striking sanitation workers in Memphis:

https://www.afscme.org/about/history/mlk/mountaintop

Black organizers have always been militant labor organizers. Labor Day commemorates the victory of the long, hard-fought Pullman strike, where Black workers brought one of the most powerful companies in America to its knees:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pullman_Strike

And women have always fought for gender justice through the labor movement: the New York shirtwaist strike is the Ur-example, when women-led unions fought thugs and scabs on icy New York streets:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_York_shirtwaist_strike_of_1909

It's no surprise that labor activism, anti-racism and feminism go together. Since the earliest days, the labor justice struggle was also a social justice struggle. To learn more check out Kim Kelly's Fight Like Hell: The Untold History of American Labor:

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Fight-Like-Hell/Kim-Kelly/9781982171063

The most exploited, underpaid, and abused workers in America are also the most marginalized (duh).

From nurses:

https://www.reuters.com/business/healthcare-pharmaceuticals/kaiser-healthcare-union-says-week-long-strike-possible-early-next-month-2023-10-09/

To teachers:

https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2023-04-18/l-a-teachers-win-21-wage-increase-in-new-lausd-contract

To Amazon warehouse workers:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazon_Labor_Union

To publishing assistants:

https://apnews.com/article/harpercollins-union-strike-ends-0a94238718879066d9b21af6266be526

To baristas:

https://www.cnn.com/2023/09/29/business/starbucks-union-wages/index.html

To fast-food workers:

https://www.ufcw.org/about/

The vanguard of today's labor surge is Black, brown, female and queer. Without a union, workers who face discrimination are on their own, hoping that their bosses will voluntarily do something about it. Black workers in Tesla's rabidly anti-union shops face vicious racism, from slurs to threats to violence. Without a union, they have to rely on the shifting whims of an Apartheid emerald mine space-Karen for relief, or hope for help from the NLRB or a class-action lawyer:

https://apnews.com/article/tesla-racism-black-lawsuit-class-action-21c88bddf60eca702560be58429495de

The far right isn't wrong when they holler that woke capitalism is bullshit. As with so many of their mirror-world causes, they've got a point, but only a limited one. The problem with woke capitalism is that it's no substitute for a union. The problem with relying on Business Resource Groups to fight racism, sexism, homophobia and transphobia is that these struggles are all class struggles, and a BRG is never going to fight against the company that created it.

To understand how bankrupt woke capitalism is, conside this: Stellantis is calling on its "Working Parents Network" to scab this Friday. Stellantis is also being sanctioned by the Department Of Labor for discriminating against nursing mothers – the same "working parents" that the BRG is meant to protect:

https://www.clickondetroit.com/news/local/2023/02/08/investigation-finds-stellantis-violated-rights-of-nursing-mothers-at-sterling-heights-plant/

Woke capitalism is just another kind of "predatory inclusion," like Intuit's campaign defending its "Free File" tax-prep scam, where they're claiming that ending this ripoff is racist because it denies Black families the right to be tricked into paying for something they are entitled to get for free:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/27/predatory-inclusion/#equal-opportunity-scammers

When I learned about Intuit's wokewashing, I thought I'd found woke capitalism's rock bottom, but I was wrong. Stellantis's call for woke scabbing is a new low.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/11/equal-opportunity-class-war/#inclusive-scabbing

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

#pluralistic #race #gender #uaw #stellantis #gm #general motors #woke capitalism #wokewashing #strikes #labor #liberalism #company unions

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artiststarme · 4 months

Text

Come to Poppa

Based on a prompt sent to me awhile ago from @yaoiprofessoryuki. I'm sorry it took so long but I hope you like it!

~*~*~*~

Steve was never close to his dad, not like a father or son should be. They never played catch in the front yard or camped out in the woods. They certainly never talked about sports or girls. The closest they ever got was performing elementary science experiments at the kitchen table until his mother scolded them both over their own laughter. One day though, everything changed. Out of nowhere, Steve became less of a son and more like a roommate that coexisted in the same house.They lived in the same house and their paths intermittently crossed when they were both in the house at the same time, but their relationship was gone.

Nevertheless, all Steve wanted after fighting the demogorgons with the kids was to see his dad. He craved the comfort that only a dad could give through all-consuming hugs and emotionally stunted advice. His dad was a scientist, surely he could ask him just what the fuck those monsters were. If anyone could understand, his dad would.

But after waiting up all night and into the next day, his dad didn’t come home. His secretary didn’t pick up the phone when he called and the hospital had no records of him. His dad was just gone, disappeared just like all the evidence of the demogorgons. Steve’s mom filed a missing persons report with the Sheriff’s office but even their investigations were moot. It was like his dad fell off the face of the earth.

***

After their 1984 encounter and getting the absolute shit kicked out of him by Billy, the kids start hanging out at his house. His mom had taken to leaving for weeks at a time at the drop of a hat to avoid thinking about his father and Steve was climbing the walls in order to escape some of the oppressive loneliness that the house seemed to ooze. He thought the kids would find it fun to have a big house to themselves to make a mess in and just be kids away from the responsibilities of the Upside Down. He was wrong.

Eleven froze as soon as the door swung shut behind her, her eyes on the family portrait that hung in the living room. In it was a sixteen year old Steve, his mother in her nicest dress, and his graying dad. It was one of the last pictures that they all looked happy in. But Eleven wasn’t looking at the picture in happiness or curiosity, she was looking at it in horror.

“El? What’s wrong, what’s going on?” Mike stood between her and the photo, his hand comfortingly rested on her shoulder.

All the kids surrounded her and Steve just followed her gaze and looked at her in confusion. When Dustin saw him looking back and forth, he snuck a peek before his eyes widened in sudden realization. “Holy shit, guys! Look at the picture! Steve, how the hell do you know Dr. Brenner?”

Steve’s eyes scrunched in confusion, “what? I don’t know a Dr. Brenner.”

“There’s a picture of the two of you right there!” Lucas flailed his arm towards another picture of the two of them in black suits at his cousin’s wedding.

“And right there,” Max added, pointing at a picture of Steve holding a report card with straight A’s and his dad beaming with pride to his left.

“That’s not Dr. Brenner, that’s my dad. Martin Harrington, not a Brenner,” he said while rolling his eyes in exasperation. The imagination of these kids was going to make him lose his mind one day.

“No, papa.”

“Eleven, that’s not the man that hurt you. That’s my dad. He was boring and dorky, he wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Papa!”

“I think she would know who experimented on her for years,” Lucas said, rolling his eyes.

“Not if she thinks it's my dad!” Steve was really reaching his limits. He’d just wanted the kids to have fun for a day, he hadn’t expected slander against his dad.

“What if it's the same person? Your dad and Dr. Brenner,” Dustin pondered.

Steve just shook his head. “There’s no way, my dad worked at the Department of Energy for the government. He ran research experiments on electricity and water and shit. He never worked with kids!”

“The Department of Energy was just a cover up for the experiments on kids!” Mike screamed.

That was the last line for El. As soon as Mike raised his voice, she flinched and threw the family portrait to the ground with a flick of her wrist. The frame splintered and the glass shattered upon contact with the fireplace tile. Most disturbingly to Steve though was the long tear in the photo separating his dad from him and his mom. An unfortunately positioned shard of glass had separated his dad from his family in the portrait just as an unknown force had in reality.

“Hey! That’s one of the last pictures I have of him! He disappeared last year and you just ruined our last picture together. Fuck Eleven, he’s not your papa.” Steve dropped to his knees next to the broken frame without regard for the glass and fretted his hands over the portrait.

“He’s a monster!” El yelled, an accusing finger pointed directly at the ruined canvas in his hands. All of the pictures on the walls fell to the floor with a deafening crash. In a single moment, all remnants of his dad were erased from the living room.

“No! You’re ruining everything, stop! My dad was just a nerd that loved science. He might’ve been a little strict about grades but other than that, he’s a good guy!”

“Steve, we are telling you that that is Dr. Brenner. I don’t know why he has a different name at work or why you don’t know what he did at work but it is him. We met him last year and he’s missing because… Well, we’re pretty sure El killed him or at least really hurt him. That’s why he didn’t come back.” Dustin delivered the news as gently as possible but his words still registered like a knife in the back.

“What.”

Suddenly, Steve saw everything differently. The missed basketball games, the unexplained absences and late nights at work, the weird interest in his experiments. It felt like the loving dad that he grew up with was a stranger he never knew at all. The kids didn’t seem to notice his shock or the fact that they had just ruined his life. They continued arguing amongst themselves until Steve tuned back in.

“What if Steve knew about it? For all we know, he could've had a part in it! Maybe that’s why he wanted to join the Party. He could be reporting back to Dr. Brenner right now!” Mike ranted. Jesus Christ, Steve hated that kid.

“You really think Steve had something to do with it? I’m pretty sure he’s failing at least three classes right now. There is no way someone would use him as an accomplice in a conspiracy this big,” Dustin shook his head and sent a wink at Steve as if he was defending him. But Steve didn’t take it that way.

They knew about his dad’s disappearance and were now insulting him? Fucking shit, he’d risked everything for these kids; his reputation, his old friends, his relationship with Nancy, his life! And they still doubted him and saw him as an idiot. They saw him as a traitor that would work as an accomplice to torture other kids. Fuck it.

“Get out.”

“Steve, Mike didn’t mean-”

He cut Lucas off with a glare. “Get out! I don’t want you here. Just get out!”

They all walked out with varying degrees of guilt until Steve was left alone with nothing to do but look at the ruined family portrait with its shards of broken glass and cry about the injustice of it all.

My Permanent Tag List: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @ksherlock15 @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschildextra @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1 @devondespresso @gregre369

@mysticcrownshipper @disasterlia @lillys-weird-world @messrs-weasley @orangesunsets12 @awkotaco24 @pukner @strangerthingfanfic @dangdirtydemons @bookworm0690 @hannahhook7744 @dreamlandforever @marsbars97 @precursorandthedragon @romanticdestruction @5ammi90 @death-thee-nervousqueer @panicatthediaz @justforthedead89 @fandommaniac123

#does the timeline continue as normal after this or does this change everything?#what if Robin takes pity on Steve when he goes back to Mrs. Click's class on Monday and befriends him then?#Eddie sees the fallen king hanging around the Buckley band kid and befriends him too #stranger things #pre steddie #pre robin #steve harrington #eleven hopper #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair

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lvrcpid · 1 year

Text

it’s a bad habit - chad meeks-martin

synopsis: just chad as your bf hcs 🫶🏾

pairing : chadxfem!reader

warning : none!

listen : bad habit by steve lacy

notes : mason gooding is my husband. that’s it. that’s the tweet.

bf!chad who definitely is your biggest cheerleader. if you play a sport, he’s the first one there with flowers and the biggest smile on his face waiting to congratulate you.

bf!chad who makes you do tiktok trends with him. you know the lipstick one? you two were the first on it thanks to chad.

bf!chad who is very protective of you, especially after what happened to liv (free my good sis!). you’re going out? that’s cool just let him know when you get there. (he’s not toxic yall i promise)

bf!chad who steals the music you listen to because his music taste is literally trash. you like brent? so does he!! you like sza? so does he omg!!

bf!chad whos the biggest teddy bear in the whole world and sometimes forgets his own strength. he loves cuddling so he sometimes rolls onto you, completely squishing you. (not that you mind)

bf!chad whos the lala to your okok

bf!chad who takes you on dates at least twice a week and doesn’t let you pay. getting boba? he hates it but at least he gets to spend time with you.

bf!chad who is the biggest himbo to ever exist.

bf!chad who flips like a switch when you come around. he could literally be cussing someone out but the minute you come into the room he’s all like “omg y/n how was your day baby 😍”

bf!chad who is your designated driver whenever you guys go out to parties. he’s all like “don’t drink too much okay?? ☹️ i love you ☹️” he’s so sad watching you leave to hang with your friends and not him

bf!chad who will literally let you try out makeup looks on him. he will literally think he is the prettiest boy in the world.

“is it giving fierce?” — chad

“it’s definitely giving something..” — you

bf!chad who makes it a point to tell you he loves you every minute of everyday because he never wants you to forget how much love he has for you.

#scream #scream vi #scream x reader #scream 6 #chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks scream vi

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ladykailitha · 5 months

Text

Well Met By Moonlight Part 8

And we're back! Are you guys getting my tags, the engagement dropped again. I know that in America there was the holiday but it kinda dropped off before that and I saw other blogs that didn't have their tags work at all. So let me know if you aren't seeing all my posts.

Steve talks to Keith, learns some unsettling news and Robin is awesome.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

****

Billy Hargrove was a racist, chauvinistic asshole with a savior complex longer than his dick, but he was also one hundred times the better man than Dr. Martin Brenner. Granted Brenner was scraping the bottom of the ocean, but Steve was grateful for not having had to deal with him when he was around.

He also knew that he wasn’t going to speak to the Dominus today. He was going to speak to his second in command, Keith Prince.

He didn’t like Steve, and Steve didn’t know why. But considering that despite the last name, he looked more like a toad than a prince, Steve had a pretty good idea the dude was just jealous of Steve’s good looks.

He walked up to the coven, bare ass on display, having just shifted.

“The fuck do you want, Harrington?” Keith snarled. “And why can’t you come dressed like decent folk?”

“Because I’m a werewolf, Keith,” Steve sighed. “The fastest way for me to travel is to wolf out.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You could always send Carol or Robin to do your dirty work. That is what keepers are for, aren’t they?”

“That’s isn’t happening in this or any life time,” Steve growled. “Not after you propositioned Robin the last time I sent her here on pack business.”

Keith just sneered. “What. Do. You. Want? I’m busy!”

Steve sighed. “Tell your Dominus that we may have the public school system to blame for the raise in hunters and to ask his thralls what they’ve heard.”

Keith scoffed. “He already knows about that shit and they don’t know nothin’.”

Steve’s spine stiffened at the tone and the fact that Billy already knew about the thing with Josh.

So either he had Lucy in his pocket, or there was a spy in his pack. Neither was an option he wanted to entertain.

Steve showed his teeth, forcing Keith to back down.

“You shouldn’t lie to an alpha, dumbass,” he snarled. “I can smell the stench of the lie coming off you like stale weed. You tell your Dominus that if he thinks he can push me around, remind him what happened to the last asshole who crossed me.”

Keith straightened up and bowed his head. “My apologies, alpha.”

Steve snapped his jaw at Keith before shifting back into a wolf. A wolf that could look Keith in the eye. He showed his teeth again and was gratified when he smelled the scent of urine wafting from the vampire.

He leapt through the door, leaving the scent of urine, lies, and fear far behind him.

Steve came back in time to see Josh off to his parents. He watched as Josh chatted happily with them over everything he did.

“…Did you know that a single werewolf could eat up to thirty pounds of meat a day? But not raw, that’s a myth...” Josh prattled on, his parents giving each other amused glances behind his back.

Steve turned to Tommy, the keeper that was hiding in the crow’s nest near the entrance.

“It sounded like he had fun,” he said, as Tommy leapt down in front him.

“Carol wanted to straight up adopt him,” Tommy said with a sneer.

“She always did have a soft spot for strays,” Steve murmured as Tommy fell instep next to him. “Especially strays that love shopping.”

Tommy nose twitched. “You went to that vampire mongrel’s again, didn’t you? I can smell him from here.”

Steve smacked Tommy’s head. “He’s not a mongrel just because he was made instead of born. Where are you kids getting these ideas? Jesus Christ.”

He snorted. “Whatever, I can still smell him.”

“I saw the mayor and visited the coven too,” Steve said dryly. “I was doing my duties as an alpha. There is something wrong in this town and I am going to figure out what.”

Tommy sniffed again. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t want Hopper back as the alpha anymore then most of this pack, so you better figure it out, before you get yourself killed.”

Steve pushed him playfully. “Shut it, Tommy!”

Tommy laughed. “I bet I can beat you to the center, no shifting.”

“You’re on!”

Steve was in his hut? Cottage? Living structure? He was never sure what to call all the little houses that was in the compound. Hell, he didn’t even like the word compound, really. It felt cult-ish. Which they weren’t.

Werewolves had tried living in towns for millennia and it never worked out well for the werewolves. They would get blamed for everything from failed crops, high infant mortality rates, and plagues.

So they started forming their own communities inside towns. Much like the Vatican and Italy.

Well whatever anyone called them, it was home.

Steve was at home, playing cards with Robin.

“So what did you think of Josh today?” he asked, drawing a card.

“I bet Tommy whined about it all the way back to the center of camp,” Robin said with a scoff.

“It’s actually fucking ridiculous how much the pack is so...so...” he threw his hands in the air frustration. “Fuck I don’t know the right word for it. But click-ee?”

“Clicky?” Robin asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You know, a click,” Steve said. “The jocks, the cowboys, the goths, the freaks. A click.”

“Ohhh...” she said. “A clique.”

Steve frowned. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

Robin half shrugged. “Sort of. But yeah, I’ll agree to the pack becoming more and more cliquey. It’s become very insular since...” she paused to think. “Actually I don’t when it started, but it’s recent. I just can’t tell you how recent.”

Steve hummed. “It’s becoming a problem and one I don’t know how to fix. I mean Josh and Chance here will help not only them realize that we aren’t monsters, but that regular humans aren’t monsters either.”

Robin nodded. “It’s certainly a step in the right direction. You need to get out more in the community. Do Q&As at the town hall and middle school.”

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. He placed all his cards down. “Out.”

“Skunked again!” Robin shrieked. “How are you so good at this game?”

Steve just shrugged. “Why not elementary schools?” She stared at him blankly. “For the whole Q&A thing.”

“Oh, that,” she said, waving her hand. “Because despite there being an actual werewolf in the school no teacher or parent would agree to you speaking to kids that young.”

Steve sighed. She was probably right. “’K, so middle schools and town halls help with the community at large but what about the pack?”

She just shrugged. “That’s something you should really talk to your alpha female about, you know.” She scooped up the cards and began shuffling them.

Steve sighed. He did know. But he also knew that Nancy was still very much a conservative when it came to pack dynamics. She had actually turned him down twice because she felt that the alphas should be mated.

It wasn’t until Steve asked her and she couldn’t come up with a logical, non-sexist reason why that should be the case that she accepted the role.

“I love her dearly,” he said instead. “But I just kinda want to spit ball some ideas with you that I can take to her. So I don’t look stupid.”

Robin shoved his shoulder playfully. “She doesn’t think you’re stupid.”

Steve scoffed. She really, really did.

“Okay,” Robin conceded. “Maybe a little.”

“There is also the little matter of the spy,” Steve grumbled.

Robin grimaced and chewed her bottom lip. “You know it’s Tommy, right? Please tell me you know it’s Tommy.”

Steve frowned. “No. Why would it be Tommy?”

She sighed and scooted close to him. “Steve, he’s been hanging on Billy’s coattails at school. He’s always talking about how great Billy is on and off the court. Hell, if I thought Billy liked boys I wouldn’t be surprised to learn Tommy was sucking his dick.”

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “But I need to make sure. I just can’t go accusing people without proof.”

“I don’t think you should accuse him at all.”

Steve reared back in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, dingus,” Robin said slyly. “You make sure to tell Tommy things you know you want Billy to know. Because a spy you know is better than one you don’t.”

Steve gave her a big hug. “I wish you were my alpha female.”

She hugged him back. “I know.”

“Have you thought about asking for the bite when you turn eighteen?”

She shuffled back a bit and put her hands on her knees and then nodded. “Yeah. I’ve talked to my parents about it. They’re uneasy about having a werewolf for a daughter.”

Steve sighed. “I’m sorry. Maybe the town hall meetings and the Q&As with kids will help.”

She nodded.

“Thanks, Steve.”

He kissed her cheek. “Between you and I we are going to change the world.”

She looked at him shyly. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

Robin pushed his shoulder again. “You are such a sap.”

Steve laughed. “Yes, but you knew that.”

She looked at the scar on his neck and then reached out to touch it. “I’m sorry they did that to you.”

He shivered at her touch. “I don’t mind it.”

“I do, Steve,” she said fiercely. “They hurt you because they were afraid of you.”

He sighed. “When my parents died, the Franklins were the only ones in town willing to take me in. The only people who knew about the silver collar they made me wear was just the three of us until I turned eighteen.”

“How did no one else know?” Robin asked gently.

“I only wore it when they were home at home,” Steve murmured. “I wasn’t forced to wear it at school. Just at home where I ‘might’ hurt them.”

“It’s still cruel.”

Steve just shrugged.

“Whatever happened to them?” she asked after a moment or two of awkward silence.

“Officially or unofficially?” Steve asked with a smirk.

“There’s an official story?” Robin said eagerly.

He laughed. “Sure is. They are currently on a business trip to...” he looked at his watch, “Tokyo, Japan.”

“What the hell?” she gasped excitedly. “What’s the real story?”

“Only Wayne and I know where their bodies are buried.”

Robin giggled and kicked her feet. “That’s amazing!”

Steve smiled at her fondly. She really was his platonic soulmate.

****

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag list: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @bookbinderbitch @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @anaibis @she-collects-smut @irregular-child

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #werewolf steve harrington #vampire eddie munson

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callsignspark · 9 days

Text

change your ticket home

a top gun maverick AU

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Sherrie McHone (fem!OC)

summary: After a successful business trip on the West Coast, two Wells Corporation engineers have problems getting back home. Thank god for Bradley Bradshaw, a man who is determined to make their hours waiting in the terminal as enjoyable as possible. And if he and his pretty travel companion (and colleague) get closer along the way? Well that’s just a bonus.

warnings: difficulties of being a woman in a male-dominated field, minor misogyny from coworkers, yearning, pining, Bradley being an absolute sweetheart, it's vaguely alluded to but Sherrie is named after the Steve Perry song, American Airlines bashing bc this fic is based on a real and horrible experience I had a few years ago. and yes, the title is from the one direction song.

word count: 9.8k | masterlist

note: happy saturday! this has been in the works for almost a year and I'm so thrilled to finally be sharing it! this is dedicated to @gretagerwigsmuse, who gave so many wonderful ideas and has continually been a cheerleader for this fic. happy birthday!

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 06:36 AM PST | San Diego, CA

“If I fake a heart attack, we can get out of this meeting, right?”

She looks over at Bradley sprawled in the uncomfortable café chair in his navy suit, his arm slung over the back of her chair. He’s down to just his crisp, white button-up, jacket, and tie abandoned within the first ten minutes of the call.

“Suck it up, we’re almost done.” She rolls her eyes. “And Martin knows you’re a supremely healthy thirty-two-year-old, so no, I don’t think that will work.”

“Sherrie…” His whine is cut off by her hand covering his mouth as she unmutes her microphone and mentally praises his decision to sit so close to her. Not having to pull out both laptops was just an additional perk on top of her ability to silence him.

“That’s correct, Sean. We got them to agree to a small batch trail run for the connectors. We’ll be working together on running them through environmental testing before committing to a full contract.”

“And why are they agreeing to that? Because frankly, it makes no sense to me why they would want to do that.”

Bradley straightens up, his eyes narrowing at the Teams box showing the older man’s initials. “Well, Sean, as Sherrie explained before. Harris hasn’t produced connectors like this before, and they’re interested in the test results, specifically the shock data. So they agreed to take on half the burden so they can use the information for their own use. If this works how we think it will, this will be a huge boost for their business, even if the patent is shared.”

She looks at him, half admonishment and half appreciation, always a little bit amazed when he had her back, no matter how many times he had done it. “The contracts team is drawing up the final agreements and negotiating with their team next week, so best case scenario is we have reports with usable data by the end of the summer. Worst case, it’ll drift into the middle of Q1.”

“That’s great work you guys did out there, thank you. Alright, I think that covers everything we had to talk about today. McHone, Bradshaw - have a safe flight back, and everyone have a good weekend!” Martin ends the call before anyone can add anything.

Bradley laughs. “God, he’s just as sick of Sean as I am. I can’t wait until he retires.”

“He’s not that bad; you’re just grumpy because you had to dress up for the staff meeting, and then Martin said cameras off today.”

“I am upset about that! I will be logging yet another suggestion that we should have casual Fridays and casual travel policy. But I’m more upset because he talks down to you all the time! Like you haven’t been carrying this department on your back since we started ten years ago!”

“Carrying is an exaggeration, Bradley.” She looks up from where she’s putting her laptop away. “I think you have time to change into something comfy before we board.”

“American Airlines Flight 2307 from San Diego to Charlotte, Boarding Group A can now board.”

“Or not.” She giggles as he groans, reaching over to pull her other air pod out of his ear. “Come on, it’s a long flight; you can sleep on the plane. Just be thankful you’re not wearing an underwire bra and heels.”

“I don’t know how you do that.” He mutters, shooing her away when she tries to pick up her carry-on, throwing it over his shoulder alongside his own.

“I don’t either. I’m going to get a massage when we get back to Boston.”

“Ohhh, a massage sounds nice.” He subtly sticks his elbow out for her grab, which she gratefully does, letting his tall frame guide her to their gate. “You know you didn’t have to wear heels, right?”

“You should shut up while I’m still thankful you yelled at Sean for me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sherrie leans her head on his arm as they wait in the priority boarding line, one of the perks of traveling on the company’s dime. Normally, she would worry about being more professional while carrying her work bag that had the Wells Corporation logo embroidered on it, but she can’t bring herself to care. Yesterday’s meetings ran late, and the following client dinner had kept them out until almost midnight. After packing, going to bed late, and having to get up at 3:30AM to get to the airport, she was exhausted.

She takes her bag before they scan their tickets, not fighting when he grabs it again on their walk down the jet bridge.

“Where are you sitting again?”

“I’m in 16C.” She snorts at Bradley’s pout. “What? You knew we weren’t going to be sitting together.”

“But I’m going to be bored all the way back in 21D by myself.”

“Bud, you’re going to fall asleep in the first 30 minutes like you always do, and then I would be stuck for the next four hours with you leaning and drooling on me.”

Bradley whips his head around, “That is a baseless accusation. I do not drool!”

“You 100% definitely do drool, I’ve seen it.” Her smirk widens when his attempt to fight back is cut off by the flight attendants greeting them.

He ushers Sherrie on first, politely nodding to the flight crew before following her down the aisle, ducking down to whisper. “I do not drool.”

“You absolutely do drool. You also snore.”

She can feel eyes on them as they shuffle down the aisle, making eye contact with an older woman who raises her eyebrows in appreciation at the hunk of a man behind her.

This happens everywhere they go.

Bradley is such a gentleman, always opening doors and carrying her bags, that people never believe the two are just friends and coworkers. She’s had complete strangers fight with her when she says there’s nothing between them. Unable to accept that it’s just platonic.

As much as she wishes it could be more.

After years of learning all the little details of each other, she knows they would be good together. Their decade-long friendship allowing her to thoroughly analyze how well their personalities would mesh. They share the same beliefs and have the same interests; they even have overlapping friend groups. They’re made for each other.

On paper.

In reality, it will never happen.

She won’t let it.

“Is this good here?” Bradley’s question interrupts her weekly internal spiral; his big brown eyes blink at her over his shoulder as he puts her bag into the overhead compartment.

“That’s fine. Can you grab my water bottle out of the side pocket?

“Here ya go, ma’am. I’ll meet you by the water foundation when we land, okay?”

She nods, smiling as he hustles back to his seat to avoid a family almost flattening him in their haste to get to their assigned seats.

Her seat neighbors haven’t arrived yet, so Sherrie sits down without bothering to buckle, tucking her work bag under the row in front of her after pulling out her plane kit. Her pencil case from college that she’s repurposed to hold her headphones, phone charger, gum, hand sanitizer, and a few other small necessities.

Her phone buzzes as she’s storing her water bottle and the little bag away in the pocket of the seat in front of her.

Bradley is woken up by his seat neighbor hitting his arm as he reaches to grab a drink, nodding at the guy’s apologetic face before trying to get comfortable again. Alan talked way too much at dinner last night, and it was a struggle to stay awake during the project manager’s third round of gushing over how brilliant and profitable Sherrie’s proposal would be for both companies.

“Sir? This is for you, do you want it?” The muffled question is accompanied by someone shaking his shoulder. He peels open his eyes to see the flight attendant holding out two packets of Biscoff cookies.

His face must be confused enough for the short woman to take pity on him. “Your friend up there said these are your favorite and asked me to give hers to you.”

His heart warms up, taking the treats and saying thank you. He enjoys the cookies, washing them down with the ginger ale he also got, thinking about how well Sherrie knows him. He forces himself to wait for them to finish snack service before he gets up to use the restroom.

“Thank you.” Bradley revels in the way Sherrie jumps when he pops her headphone out, purposefully brushing his lips against her ear. “Hmmm, you were right, your seatmate is cute.”

She glares up at him, a smile threatening to break through. “Isn’t he? He fell asleep five minutes after take off, just like you.”

“Yet, another baseless accusation!”

“I heard you snoring.”

“You shouldn’t lie in front of small children.”

“His mom said he’s seven months old; I don’t think we have to be concerned about teaching him to lie while he’s still in a car seat.”

“Probably shouldn’t chance it, though. Say I don’t snore.”

“You just said I shouldn’t lie. Should probably go to the bathroom before you start holding up traffic.” She puts her headphone back in, wiggling her fingers at him before going back to reading on her phone.

It gives him the strangest sense of déjà vu.

Tuesday, March 25, 2005 | 10:43 AM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“…and he said you had already-” Bradley cuts himself off, realizing she can’t hear him. He chuckles; he should have known better than to just walk up and start talking.

He doesn’t know Sherrie McHone very well. They had taken all the freshman intro to engineering requirements together, and this year their classes had split into their chosen disciplines. His mechanical, hers electrical. But he knows her well enough to know that she can pretty much only be found without her headphones during class.

He remembers the first time they spoke last semester after he accidentally walked right into her. He had told Danny it’s because she’s so much shorter than him, but it’s really because he wasn't paying attention.

Sherrie had only taken one earpiece out to make sure he was okay before continuing onto her class, seamlessly weaving between upperclassmen as she shoved her headphone back in.

“Sherrie?” No response.

He lets out a tiny huff and checks his watch. Normally, he wouldn’t care that she’s clueless to his existence even as he’s right beside her, but he’s got a class soon, and he’s still two buildings away. So he does the only thing he can.

He pops her headphones out and steps back for fear of getting smacked.

Her head whips up, narrowing in on him freakishly fast. “What the fuck, Bradshaw?”

He’s surprised to learn that she knows his name.

“Sorry, Sherrie! I’ve been trying to talk to you for like five minutes, and you somehow haven’t noticed, but I’ve got class in 15 minutes, so I needed to get your attention.”

“Oh…” Her green eyes widen in surprise, the apples of her cheeks turning a light pink. “Sorry about that. What did you need? Wait. How did you find me?”

A fair question.

“Khondker told me where you sit.” He partially fibs.

All semester he had been watching her disappear after EE221, the one class they shared. It had taken him a while, but he was pretty sure he had found her secret study nook in the electrical engineering wing of the building. Their TA had only confirmed Bradley’s theory of where he could find his fellow sophomore.

“I don’t understand this last section we’ve been learning, and Khondker said you had already finished the homework and could help me. So could you?”

“He didn’t help you?” Sherrie raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“He tried.” Bradley scratches the back of his head, remembering how frustrated the patient man had been after his third attempt at explaining. “I just really don’t understand circuit loops. And he thought having a classmate explain it to me would make it stick. That or he was just so sick of me, he’s pawning me off.”

He watches her think, her pencil rapidly tapping against her notebook, making him nervous.

“I don’t want to be rude, but if you don’t understand current loops, I’m not sure how much help I can be. I understand the material, but I’m not a miracle worker.”

Her bluntness makes him smile. “I’m not expecting miracles, just help with the homework. If you have time.”

“Okay, just as long as you don’t get your hopes up too much.” She grabs a bright pink notebook and opens it up. “So, I’m usually free-”

“I don't want to interrupt, but I do have to get to class, so could we figure out a time later today?”

“Sure, I’ll be here until my class at four. Feel free to sit down if I’m not here; it just means I’m grabbing food.” He nods, backing away. “Wait! Bradley! Go down this hall and out the side door. You’ll be like halfway there already.”

“Awesome, thanks!” He starts to jog down the hallway, looking back to see her putting her headphones back in. Waving back when she smiles and wiggles her fingers at him before going back to her homework.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 3:16 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Our flight got delayed, and I’m hungry.”

Sherrie jumps, not expecting Bradley to get that close to her face three seconds after she exited the bathroom.

“Okay, I could eat. Where do you wan-”

“Auntie Anne’s.”

He’s walking away before she can even process what he said. She allows herself one second to appreciate the way he looks, walking through the concourse - navy slacks fitting his legs perfectly and all their bags thrown over his broad shoulders - before she’s clicking along after him.

“Bradshaw!” He freezes and turns, almost taking a lanky teenager out with her backpack. “Oh my god, Bradley! Be careful! You almost took that kid’s head off.”

His smile is sheepish as she shuffles them over to the wall. “I did not do that on purpose.”

She giggles and takes her backpack from his shoulder. “Yeah, I kinda figured. But you should have seen his face. His life flashed before his eyes. All sixteen years.”

“I can carry that Sherrie.”

“That’s okay, I got it. No! Bradley!”

He ignores her, smiling at her frustrated little stomp when he hands over her tan, cross-body purse out of her work bag. “You just carry that and make sure I don’t take out any toddlers or old ladies.”

“How am I supposed to do that if I’m ahead of you?” She snarks as he steers them toward the food stands.

“You’re smart; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Bradley laughs when she mocks him under her breath. “I can hear you, smartass.”

“You were meant to, Bradley.”

His heart flutters at the teasing wink she sends over her shoulder. It’s been twelve years since they became friends, and he still feels like that 20-year-old kid who was nervous to talk to the pretty red-headed girl he had a crush on.

He can feel eyes on them as her heels catch people’s attention, and he finds himself glaring at men who are shamelessly staring. Her shoes aren’t loud as they click along on the tile floor, but it’s hard to ignore the beautiful woman striding along in business casual.

It happens everywhere they go.

Sherrie has always been beautiful and painfully unaware of her effect on men. It never matters where they are - at work, the rare baseball game he forces her to attend, happy hour with their friends from school - she always catches attention. It doesn’t bother him because she never reciprocates, and he’s always the one to give her a ride back to her apartment.

Even if he wishes it was their apartment they were going to.

He’s watched her change over the last decade, seen her grow as a person. He’s risen through the ranks with her professionally, the two of them matching each other step for step with each promotion and raise. He’s publicly assured her that her hair still looks good as it’s deepened color with age, now less red and more auburn. He’s privately appreciated the way her body has changed, softer and curvier than when they were kids. Her wide hips are a frequent star in his daydreams.

It's the only place where they’ll ever be in a relationship.

He knows they’d be perfect together. Old friends who know each other so well they don’t even have to talk to communicate sometimes. Whose attitudes fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly in sync with each other. He knows it won’t happen. Can’t happen.

“Grab us a table, and I’ll get the food.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t fight her about paying, knowing this will be covered under their per diem. “Don’t forget my-”

“You’re frozen lemonade, I know!”

Bradley rolls his eyes at the hand that waves over her shoulder, settling their bags at a table and keeping an eye on Sherrie while sending an update to Mav.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard. He wants to tell his uncle the whole situation - that he’s not afraid to flirt with Sherrie.

“Everything okay?”

Bradley looks up to find her eyebrows furrowed as she sets a tray down.

“All good. Just sending my family an update that we’re delayed.”

She nods, sitting in the chair across from him. “Here’s your mini pretzel dogs, with mustard and a frozen lemonade. This is my pretzel nuggets, cheese sauce, and Diet Coke. Oh! And I got us these cinnamon sugar pretzels to share!”

“Thank you for remembering the mustard.”

“Bradley, when have I ever forgotten the mustard? Here, take some napkins.”

He shoves an entire mini pretzel dog in his mouth in lieu of answering her question, which they both know the answer to. Never. She has never forgotten his love for pretzels with mustard.

They eat in comfortable silence, the way only two friends can, occasionally dunking into each other's sauces as they scroll through their phones.

“Hey, how is your da- oh Bradley! You got mustard on your shirt!” His head snaps down to his shirt, groaning when he sees the yellow blob on his white button-up.

“Fuck! This is new, too!”

Sherrie dives into her bag, muttering about a stain stick, a triumphant noise escaping when she comes up successful. Scooting closer to him, she’s hit with a wave of nostalgia as she helps him clean his shirt.

Friday, April 6, 2007 | 10:12 PM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“You should’ve been gone, knowing how I made you feel!”

Sherrie’s head pops up from the lab reports she’s grading.

“And I should've been gone, after all your words of steel!”

She knows that voice.

“Oh, I must've been a dreamer! And I must've been someone else!”

She knows that voice very well.

“And we should've been over!”

She rushes for the front door, hoping and praying that the idiot she’s become close friends with this year isn’t actually outside her townhouse.

“Oh! Sherrie, our love holds on! Holds on!”

She whips the door open and, sure enough, drunkenly singing to her neighbor's house is Bradley Bradshaw.

“Bradley!” She hisses at him, ignoring the flutters in her stomach when he points his big, goofy grin towards her and not the tulips the soccer girls next door planted in front of their bay window. “What are you doing? It’s 10 PM!”

“You didn’t come.”

“First man to ever care about that.” She mutters, snorting at her joke.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing. What are you doing here?”

His puppy dog eyes are vicious, and she has the urge to slap her hand over her eyes so she doesn’t succumb to their power. “You didn’t come to the party!”

Sherrie sighs, she thought he might be disappointed she didn’t come to the annual Sigma Chi Easter Bash, but she never thought he would actually notice her absence. Or that it would result in a drunken serenade.

“Bradley, I told you I had a lot of grading and might not make it tonight.” She gently reminds him, stifling a laugh when he trips over his own feet while standing still. “You okay?”

“I have to pee. Can I come in?”

She’s pretty sure he’s just making excuses but lets him in any way; she doesn’t need to deal with him getting a public indecency charge on top of everything else. “Shoes off, Bradshaw. Bathroom is right here; I’ll be in the dining room.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He sloppily salutes her, losing his balance and thunking against the wall, one shoe still on.

Sherrie just blinks at him before returning to her spot at the dining room table, holding in the laugh threatening to escape. She settles in her chair, focusing on the mediocre reports her students had turned in.

“I washed my hands!” Bradley’s abrupt entrance startles her. “Can we have a snack? I’m hungry?

She watches in amusement as he shuffles to her fridge, riffling through the shelves before opening the freezer and gasping.

“I love pretzels. Can we make these? Please?”

The box of pretzels belongs to her roommate, but she’s not strong enough to deny Bradley’s big brown eyes two times in a row so she makes a mental note to buy Amna a new box the next time she goes to the store. “Yeah, we can. But no touching the oven when you’re drunk. Go sit down.”

“I’m not drunk!” He argues even as he follows her directions, plopping himself at the table and nosily leafing through her done pile. “Wow, lots of red here.”

“Bradley! Don’t look at those!”

“Why not?”

“Would you want some random student looking through your homework?”

His rebuttal gets cut off by the oven beeping, announcing it’s up to temp. After she pops the tray in the oven, she turns and catches him appreciating the pj shorts riding up her shapely legs.

“What?” Her head cocks in confusion.

“Nothin'… cute shorts.”

“Thank you.” He watches in fascination as she snips at him even while her cheeks turn pink. “It’s almost like I was dressed for comfort and not planning on being interrupted.”

“But you’re glad I’m here, right?”

“I’ve had worse company on a Friday night.” She nudges him out of her chair. “While those are baking, go find something to watch, and I’m going to finish grading this report.”

“Such a responsible TA.”

Pride fills his chest as Sherrie snorts at his joke and goes back to work. They’ve officially been friends since last year, but he still tries his hardest to make her laugh. She's always so busy and stressed, and she does the cutest little snort-laugh when he catches her off guard.

He puts on a random movie, just grabbing a VHS case with the Disney logo on the side, before plopping on the couch. “Is there a reason you have so many kids movies?”

“Those are Jayla’s, she collects them.” Sherrie answers, never looking up from the table. “What did you choose?”

“It’s a surprise!”

“You don’t remember, huh?”

“Nope! I’ll be quiet now.”

She hums a thank you in his direction, and Bradley keeps his promise, watching her work and staying quiet until the timer goes off. His chin hooked on the back of the couch; he follows her movement through the kitchen as she pulls the pretzels out and transfers them to a plate.

“Can I have mustard, please?”

“Sure can.” Sherrie smiles at his dopey smile as she makes her way to the couch. “Here, take these, then we can eat.”

He gulps down the painkillers she drops in his hand, chugging the rest of the apple juice after they’re gone, smiling when she absentmindedly praises him for listening. He shoves a bite of pretzel in his mouth and mashes the play button, and is pleasantly surprised to find A Bug’s Life was the mystery choice.

“I love this movie,” he garbles through a pretzel. “I love how Flick wins over the princess just by getting a chance to show off his true self.”

“That was shockingly wise for the drunk man sprawled on my couch.”

Bradley thanks her, already a bit more sober but not enough to pick up on her teasing. “So, why didn’t you come? Grading really couldn’t wait?”

“It probably could have, but I’m not a partier, Bradley. You know that.” She dips a piece of pretzel in the mustard. “Besides, I really didn’t think you would notice I wasn’t there, Mr. Popular.”

“You’re the only person I invited; of course, I noticed when you didn’t show up.”

“Really? No one else? Why?”

“I know it’s almost finals, but I wanted to hang out without any books in front of us; that’s all we do lately. Study. Plus, you’ve been extra stressed about something that you don’t want to talk about, and I just wanted you to relax since you won’t talk to me about whatever is bothering you.”

“That’s sweet of you, Bradley. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you; it’s just that my family has been…” She waves a hand through the air, a deep sigh escaping. “It’s complicated. I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“Well, I’m here if you do want to talk.”

“Thanks bud. How about you? How’re your parents?” She takes one last chunk before nudging the plate in his direction and settling back into the corner.

“Mom is good; she’s close to being considered cancer-free. I think we’re gonna throw a party when she gets there.”

“That’s awesome, Bradley! I’m glad she’s doing so well. How’s your dad?”

“Mav isn’t my dad.”

A record scratch plays in Sherrie’s head as she freezes. She knows she’s heard Bradley talk about his dad, and she’d seen photos of his parents the one time she had visited his frat house last year. He had specifically pointed the photo out, telling her it was his parents. She had even been next to him when he was on the phone when he said “dad” to the person on the other end.

“My dad died when I was three. Mav is- was his best friend. I call him dad sometimes because he’s the closest thing I’ve got.”

Sherrie feels her heart break as Bradley sniffles and sadly shoves a mustard-covered pretzel in his mouth, unshed tears clumping his eyelashes. She’s never seen her friend like this before; she’s experienced many other emotions - frustration, joy, confusion - but the pain creasing his brow is new.

Comforting crying people has never been her forte, but instinctively - almost like they moved without her permission - Sherrie’s fingers run over his hair. Gently stroking the sun-streaked waves as a few tears escape down his cheeks and she scoots closer, letting her body press into his side and hoping the proximity helps.

“I’m sorry for crying on you.” He quietly apologizes after a few minutes of tears.

“S’okay. Family can be hard sometimes.”

“Complicated.”

“That too.” She hums, not moving as he swipes at his eyes and leans against her more, his head resting on her shoulder in a slouched position that can’t be comfortable.

“I love Mav; he’s my dad in all the ways it matters. It just sucks that my actual dad won’t be here for graduation. Like, I know he’s missed so much of my life already, but something about him missing college graduation is worse than everything else. It’s just so unfair; I barely remember him, but I just- I just miss him so much, Sherrie.”

Her heart cracks in half at the whispered confession. She can’t even imagine the pain of losing a parent at such a young age. The inability to remember one of the people responsible for giving you life, all memories fuzzy and most built from second-hand recollections of those who can remember. So she says the one thing she would want to hear.

“Tell me about him.”

Sherrie knows she said the right thing when his red-rimmed eyes brighten, and he immediately launches into a beloved story detailing his father’s love of pranks. She listens dutifully — laughing at the right moments and asking questions when Bradley gets carried away, forgetting that she doesn’t know all the people in his story — and feels her heart warm more and more. She’s always liked Bradley, probably more than she should, but it’s hard not to like him. He’s considerate, smart, and funny, not to mention handsome.

Thankfully, before she gets lost in thoughts of broad shoulders and strong jawlines, a big glob of mustard drops on Bradley’s t-shirt, abruptly cutting him off. The two stare in silence at the yellow condiment sitting on the black cotton shirt, somehow surprised at its appearance, before breaking down into giggles.

“C’mon Bradshaw,” Sherrie grabs his hand, pulling him off the couch. “I have a Tide pen we can use on that mess.”

Bradley follows her up the stairs and into the bathroom, teasing Sherrie about the way her tongue pokes out when she focuses. She takes the gentle taunts, grateful he’s focusing on that and not on her pink cheeks or the way her eyes keep darting to his toned stomach. She’s not sure it was completely necessary for him to strip his shirt off, but she won’t be complaining.

“Well,” A few minutes later, she interrupts his rambling story about a slip and slide. Or she thinks that’s what it’s about; she missed the first part. “I think this is as good as I can get it.”

“That’s okay; it’s not like it’s new or anything. Thanks, Sherrie.”

She steadfastly ignores the pounding heart in her chest as miles of golden skin gets covered back up, trying to not feel too disappointed by its disappearance.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 3:56 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Oh, this is ridiculous!” Bradley complains a bit too loudly, ears going hot when several pairs of eyes curiously dart toward him, but his focus doesn’t stay on that for very long when he catches the face Sherrie makes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

He squints suspiciously as she avoids eye contact. He usually takes her at her word and doesn’t push, but the frown pulling down the corners of her pink lips sets off bells in his head. “Sherrie, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Bradley. I’m fine.”

He grumbles at her lack of response but settles again in the spot they had claimed after finishing their snack. The gate was still packed, but they had found a prime location with outlets; the only downside was having to sit on the floor, something that is getting harder the older they get.

Bradley scans the area, trying to scout out some open chairs for them to grab, while Sherrie goes back to the movie they’ve been watching on his phone. His eyes drop away from the chairs in surprise when she scoots closer and leans on his shoulder. It’s not uncommon for them to sit close like this at home in Boston, sides pressed together, but she makes a point to be professional when they’re on travel.

“Hey,” he gently nudges her side, concern rising when she doesn’t lift her head, choosing to tilt her neck back, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Panic grips his chest when tears start forming, clouding her green eyes. “Sherrie?! What’s wrong?”

“We were supposed to be halfway home by now, and I’m so uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Bradley, I’m just so tired.” She whimpers, hiding against his bicep.

It hits him like a glass of cold water. Of course, she’s uncomfortable. She’s been walking around in heels and her pantsuit since 4AM California time after getting maybe three hours of sleep. His suit and shoes are comfortable and easily wearable for twelve-plus hours, not to mention the jacket and tie that were ditched sometime after the mustard incident.

“Oh, Sherrie, it’s okay. Let’s go change, yeah? Then we’ll find a quieter place so you can close your eyes and maybe get some sleep.”

“But the policy…”

Bradley resists the urge to roll his eyes at her insistence on rule-following. “In the nicest way possible, Sher, fuck the policy. You’re uncomfortable, and I care about that way more than I could ever care about a stupid, archaic policy.”

He stands, unplugging their phones and gathering their bags on his shoulder before turning to his best friend, who is still on the floor. “C’mon, we’re putting comfy clothes on.”

“But Bradley-”

“No arguing.” He interrupts, helping her off the ground and directing them back towards the restrooms. “We’re not going to sit in our suits for god knows how much longer.”

“But Bradley, I don’t have anything to change into. We had such a packed schedule I didn’t bother to bring normal clothes.” He ignores the thumping of his heart when her hand grabs his forearm, warm fingers slipping under the edge of the rolled-up sleeve as she tugs to slow his pace. At that information, he slides them out of the flow of traffic and over to the wall, Bradley pressing her against one of the columns lining the concourse atrium.

“You don’t have any regular clothes? What about your pajamas?”

“I have a pair of leggings because I was going to do a training run in the gym last night, but that’s it. I can’t wear my pjs because… well, they’re not appropriate for public.”

“Your leggings are clean, though, right?” He asks, ignoring the thoughts of what non-public appropriate pajamas might look like.

“Well, yeah, dinner went so late I barely had time to sleep before we had to be up. I guess I could buy a shirt at one of the SmartShop- what are you doing?”

Bradley peers up from his knees, where he had started digging in his bag. “I’m grabbing one of my shirts for you. Would you prefer a t-shirt or a sweatshirt? Actually, you’re definitely gonna get cold, sweatshirt for you.”

He pulls the worn, gray crew neck out, shaking it out before handing it over.

“You still have this?” The disbelief in her voice makes him laugh.

“Of course, I still have that! Relay was always my favorite event of the year. And that year was my favorite one.”

As the philanthropy chair of Sigma Chi, part of his job was to sign the brothers up for volunteer events and fundraisers. With his mom’s diagnosis, he ensured their schedule included the campus’ annual Relay for Life event, pouring as many resources as he could into the fundraiser that directly helped advance cancer research.

“Wait, but why was junior year your favorite?” She asks, brushing her fingers over the cracked, screen-printed logo.

“Because that’s the reason we became friends, Sher.”

Surprised green eyes meet sincere brown eyes, a thousand words said in the silence of their stares, both remembering the lead-up to that day in April so many years ago.

Bradley’s eyes widen in panic as everyone at the gate starts moving as a herd. They had finally found seats to relax in after changing, the group of passengers waiting with them shrinking as time went on. And now, with only ten minutes until boarding, their gate has changed again.

“Sherrie, wake up!” He feels bad shaking the snoozing woman off, but they have to move with the group to make it to the new part of Terminal A in time for their flight. “C’mon, honey, they changed the gate again — we gotta go!”

“What are you- again?! Shit!” She wipes the bleariness from her eyes, slinging her bags over her shoulder and grabbing the hand he holds out.

The two coworkers, along with fifty of their fellow passengers who have stuck this out, speed walk down the first branch of the terminal. The entire group picking up the pace when turning the corner towards the second branch where the new gate lives. By the time they hit the second branch, everyone is practically running — time ticking down to boarding — no one wanting to miss this flight.

As if the blob of Flight 1121 passengers racing toward the end of the terminal didn’t garner attention from other gates, the entire terminal is staring by the time they reach gate A28, and several people start yelling in frustration.

“This is unbelievable!” An older gentleman’s unhappiness is interrupted by three simultaneous updates pinging everyone’s phones.

Bradley’s head drops back in disbelief, wrapping his arm around Sherrie when her head thunks against his chest. He doesn’t even get a chance to comfort her before the gate agents are making announcements about getting people on other flights, providing hotel rooms, and the vouchers that will be shared.

“Again, we apologize, but if you have flexible travel plans, we ask that you please go to the end of the line so those with time constraints can be taken care of first. Thank you for your cooperation, folks!”

“Well, that’s us, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sherrie blows air out of her lips, a mischievous smile taking over her face. “Hey, at least this means extra per diem money.”

Bradley laughs as they move to the back of the squiggly line that’s forming, letting her take the bags so he can step away to call to update their supervisor and then his pet sitter. It only takes a few rings for his boss to pick up. “Bradshaw! What’s up? You okay?”

“Hey Martin, all good. Just wanted to let you know that our flight has gotten supremely delayed. We won’t be home until tomorrow morning sometime.”

“Jesus, do you guys need anything?”

“Nah, we’re good. The airline is putting us up in a hotel for the night and giving vouchers for a bunch of stuff. Just called to let you know and for a heads up on the expense report.”

“Well, that is the most important part!” Martin’s honking laugh makes Bradley chuckle as he glances to check on Sherrie’s progress in line. “How’s Sherrie? She good?”

“Yeah, she’s good. She’s holding our spot in line for getting new tickets and stuff.” And it looks like she’s made friends already, he silently adds, smiling at her interacting with the elderly couple in front of her.

“Good. Alright then, I’ll see you on Monday, but let me know if you guys need anything. And hey! If you two end up in the same hotel room — remember what I said on your first day!”

The line goes dead, and so does Bradley’s smile, his stomach churning like it does every time he remembers his first day at the Wells Corporation.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007 | 11:15 AM EST | Boston, MA

“Will you calm down?”

“I can’t, Bradley. What if no one likes me? What if I fuck up?!” She hisses, working to appear calm as they wait for their supervisor to show up, but failing.

“First of all, we’re starting together, so you have at least one person that likes you. And you’re great, everyone will like you. Second, there will be mistakes, but we just graduated — they’re not going to let us do anything alone because we don’t know anything yet.”

Sherrie nods, tucking her hands under her legs and trying to breathe. Bradley’s words are encouraging, but he doesn’t know how difficult her internship was last summer. The older engineers she shadowed treated her like a glorified coffee girl and secretary. Even when she had pointed out a mistake they all had missed, there was no change — just the addition of making her type their reports to see if she could catch something the non-engineer tech writers would miss.

This is a brand new company, but misogyny wasn’t unique to Waite Green Construction. Every woman has to work twice as hard to prove her worth and intellect, no matter her age or experience. She’s just hoping her onboarding mentor will be the only other woman in the department; it would be the perfect way to gain a professional mentor once she’s out of the probation period.

“Good morning, kids! How was orientation?” Mr. Teresi walks into the conference room.

Bradley shakes his hand first, “It was good, sir. Nice to see you again.”

“Good to hear! Learn lots of new things.”

“Yes, I think we can be considered experts on trade secrets now.” Sherrie jokes, focusing on making sure her handshake is firm but not too firm.

“Wonderful. So, I’m guessing you two have been introduced, but just in case you haven’t. Bradley, this is Sherrie McHone; she’s an electrical engineer. And Sherrie, this is Bradley Bradshaw, a mechanical engineer.”

“We actually went to school together, sir.”

��We’re friends,” Bradley adds, the two of them exchanging small smiles.

“Oh, great! Well, that makes things easier getting started. Now let’s go over my plan for the two of you, and then we’ll get lunch, my treat for your first day.”

Their supervisor talks for half an hour, going over things they’ll need to be trained in and their first assignments. By the time he’s done, several notebook pages have been filled and highlighted with things that need to be looked up.

“Alright!” The older engineer claps, rubbing his hands together. “I’m sure your brains are overloaded with information, so go drop your things at your desks, and we’ll head to lunch.”

The recent graduates gather their notes and head for the door, quietly talking about a training they’ll be attending next week when he stops them. “One more thing, guys. They never mention it during R&D orientation, but I feel it’s necessary to mention it to new people. Here at Wells, there isn’t a fraternization policy among non-management coworkers or between any employees in different divisions. But we are a fairly small department, so keep in mind who you interact with and what impacts that may have at work.”

Sherrie feels the blood drain from her already pale face as her brand new supervisor stares at her the entire time he speaks, ignoring Bradley completely. She’s going to be sick. Less than four hours into the first professional role of her career, and it’s already happening.

This is the moment it starts, she thinks, her heart pounding in her throat as she robotically nods. It’s never the men that get these warnings. It’s always the women. Always us. Always me.

“I don’t care about that. But there are some people who will, even though they shouldn’t. And I want you guys to have the best experience here you possibly can. You’re both extremely bright, and I’m excited about your futures. I don’t want you to get bogged down by the opinions of others. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” They answer in unison before filing out of the conference room.

“Sherrie, don’t worry about that. He’s just-”

“Trust me, Bradley. I know exactly what he was saying. I’m going to use the restroom, and then I’ll meet you guys at the elevator.”

“Sherrie…”

But she ignores her friend, shrugging her purse over her shoulder and keeping her face neutral as she heads for the single-stall ladies’ room. Fighting to hold the tears back until she’s inside for fear of being perceived as emotional. A quality no woman can afford to have in a professional setting.

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 8:05 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“Hey, everything? Martin says hi.”

“We’re good! This is Mr. and Mrs. Ludden; they’re going to visit their newest granddaughter. How’re Sophie and Louis?” Bradley smiles at the excited way she introduces them, putting a steadying hand on her back when she bounces up on her toes.

“Oh, congrats! They’re good; Marie can watch’em one more day, problem.”

“Good, we’ll have to get her a thank you present for the short notice.”

“You didn’t tell us you guys had kids!”

Bradley and Sherrie freeze in place, eyes widening in surprise at the older woman’s words.

“Oh- uh- we-” Sherrie giggles awkwardly. “Sophie and Louis are our cats; we don’t have kids.”

“I’m so sorry!” Mrs. Ludden gasps, hand covering her mouth in shock while her husband groans her name.

“Louise, how many times do we have to do this before you stop making assumptions?”

“It’s okay, innocent mistake,” Bradley assures them.

“Well, they’re such a cute couple. I just thought they would have adorable children, too!”

“Actually… we’re not…”

“Oh, lord. Let me guess. You’re not dating. You’re just friends.”

“Coworkers too, but we were friends first.” Sherrie suppresses a laugh when the older gentleman rubs a hand over his eyes in exasperation.

“Don’t even start, Clayton!”

“I wasn’t going to, dear.”

Bradley can’t help the laugh that escapes at the comfortable ribbing they give each other; it reminds him of his friendship with Sherrie. The easy way they tease, never going too far.

“Would you two like to join us after we get rebooked?” Bradley asks. “We’re going to use our food vouchers tonight to grab dinner before we head to whatever hotel they put us up in.”

The four adults move through the line, chatting about small things and comparing pictures of grandkids and cats. It’s a nice way to spend the time, especially when they get to share judging looks when a woman throws a tantrum and yells at the gate agent. But soon enough, they’re walking back to the main concourse and deciding what food to get.

“No, stop. You just sit here with the bags, and I’ll grab the food.” Bradley gently pushes Sherrie back into her chair, rolling his eyes as he talks over her protests. “I know. You want mac and cheese, Diet Coke, and whatever pulled pork flavor looks best.”

“He’s sweet,” Louise says, watching the two men make their way over to the BBQ place.

“He’s annoying.” Which makes her companion laugh. “Yes, he’s very sweet. I’m lucky to be such good friends with him.”

“Can I ask why the two of you aren’t together? He even knows what food to bring you.”

“It’s just never been like that between us. We’ve always just been friends. And he’s annoyingly smart, so he always remembers what I order.” Sherrie half smiles, pushing down the pain in her chest at the harmless curiosity, watching Bradley laugh at something Clayton says as she remembers the first time he remembered one of her favorites.

Saturday, March 4, 2006 | 1:34 PM EST | Charlottesville, VA

“Thanks for meeting me on a Saturday, Bradshaw. It’s just such a busy semester.”

“No problem. You know you can call me Bradley, right?”

“Oh, sorry. Do you not like being called Bradshaw?” Sherrie blinks when a bottle of Diet Coke and a small bag of Skittles is set on the table in front of her. “What’s this?”

“Your favorite snack.”

“Right… but why?”

“Because you have that about 50% of the time when we meet up to work on this project. Now, I finished transcribing the interview with Commander Buck last night. Did you want to- Sherrie?”

She shifts her focus from the food to the boy across from her in the study nook they’ve claimed as theirs for the semester. “Why do you remember my favorite snack?”

“Because we’re friends?” Brown eyes look into hers, equally confused.

“We’re friends?”

“I hope so; otherwise, this is gonna get awkward when you hug me in a minute.”

“Why am I going to hug you?!”

Bradley laughs at her flabbergasted expression, but it doesn’t hurt her feelings like it does when other people laugh at her. Something about the tone of the laugh makes it feel like he’s laughing at her, but rather with her, and she just doesn’t know the joke yet.

“Because as team captain, I am happy to announce to the Relay Chair that Sigma Chi has officially raised $5,000 thanks to your idea.”

“Bradley, that’s incredible!” She doesn’t feel silly when she bounces around the table to hug his neck, rocking them back and forth in excitement.

“Well, if you think that’s good - let me show you what we’re anticipating to raise this month…”

Friday, July 15, 2016 | 10:12 PM EST | Charlotte, NC

“I just don’t understand how we’re having such bad luck!”

Sherrie rolls her eyes as he unlocks the door. “Bradley, breathe. You’re being very dramatic right now.”

“How is “we’re out of rooms” a legitimate reason for the hotel to give? Not that I mind sharing with you, but like how is that possible? The airline specifically works with them to book rooms for things like this! And the airline! That gate agent who wanted to book us to fly into Hartford and then drive the rest of the way to Boston! That's insane!”

“I don’t know, the Bradley flying into Bradley joke was pretty funny.” She mutters, clicking the lights on as she checks the cleanliness of the room.

“It wasn’t.” Bradley pouts, flopping onto the bed closest to the door. “Do you want to shower first?”

“No, go ahead, but I’m going to wash my face first so I can do a face mask. I’m so dry from the airport air.” He listens to the sounds of water running and the quiet humming as she carefully applies the drenched sheet to her skin. “All yours!”

“Thanks, Sher. I won’t be long.”

He showers quickly but takes extra time cleaning his teeth, his mouth feeling gross after the long travel day. When he comes out, he’s surprised at how cozy the room feels. With only one lamp on, the air conditioning set low to keep the fan running, and an old movie on the TV, it almost feels like they could be at home in his living room. They silently move around each other, Sherrie heading to the bathroom with a pile of things while Bradley organizes his things for the morning, wanting to get as much rest as possible before their early alarm.

He scrolls through emails and texts while he waits for her to shower, turning the television off since he knows there’s a small chance of either of them making it five minutes after they kill the lights. He's updating Mav on tomorrow’s travel plans when Sherrie comes out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel. Bradley sees her packing things out of the corner of his eye, not fully paying attention until he plugs his phone in.

“That’s what you wear to bed?”

“Bradley!” He laughs at how she jumps, her hands coming down to cover her shorts.

“What? They’re cute! Very pink.”

Her face goes as pink as the pajama set she’s wearing. “Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not! You know, I love strawberries.” He can’t help the way his eyes roam up and down her body, admiring from the spaghetti straps on her smooth shoulders to the scalloped edge of her shorts. “I see why you didn’t want to change into those at the airport.”

“Oh my god…” She huffs, climbing into her own queen bed and stuffing herself under the sheets. “You set an alarm, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Want me to turn the light off?”

“Please. God, this day cannot be over soon enough.”

He chuckles and turns the lamp off, listening to her shuffle around in the sheets as she gets comfortable. It’s quiet for a few minutes, and he can hear her breathing leveling out, but he can’t keep quiet; the conversation at the airport running through his mind.

“Sher?” It takes a second, but she quietly hums in response. “We have to talk about it again.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Sherrie-”

“No, Bradley. We talked about this two weeks ago. Nothing has changed since then.”

“Yes, things have changed since then. You interviewed for that principal engineer position. Which if you get-”

“I’m not going to get it. They’re going to pick Trevor.”

“They’re going to pick you. You’re the best person for the job!”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it.”

He’s silent, the crushing weight on his chest feeling heavier when he hears her sniffle.

“Oh, Sherrie…” He slips out of his bed and into hers, wrapping the woman he loves in his arms. He lets her cry, knowing she’s frustrated and exhausted, only speaking up again when she’s calmed down. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“No, I’m sorry, Bradley. It’s not fair that we’ve been dancing around this for so many years, and I keep saying no. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to be with you. Not a coward like me.”

“You’re not a coward; you’re one of the bravest people I know, Sherrie Anne McHone. I know how critical people are of women, in this field especially. And I love you, so I don’t mind waiting until we’re in a position that you’re confident won’t jeopardize your career. So, we’ll wait to hear about the job, and once you hear that you’ve gotten it, I’m treating you to the nicest dinner in Boston.”

“Bradley, we don’t know-”

“I know we don’t know. But think about how it would be if it does. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

“But what about-”

“Doesn’t matter, honey.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.” Sherrie mumbles, cuddling further into his side, making it clear that he wasn’t allowed to leave.

“I know, but it doesn’t matter, whatever it is — we’ll figure it out.”

Saturday, July 16, 2016 | 10:32 AM EST | Somewhere over Virginia

“She’ll take a ginger ale; thank you so much.” Bradley balances his apple juice, the two packets of Biscoff cookies, and the bubbling soda he got for Sherrie. The smiling flight attendant moves past their row as he turns to his row companion.

They’re finally on their way home after waking up to more delay announcements. The additional time meant there was time to get coffee and some fruit from the hotel before their taxi back to the airport arrived, and the Luddens had even stopped to chat for a second at the gate, excited that they had gotten bumped up to first class since the flight was nearly empty.

All things considered, it had been a good morning even though Sherrie was insisting on working during the flight. Bradley is sure it’s an attempt to ignore their talk from last night, not wanting to dwell on the emotional moment when things are still so up in the air.

He looks over at the woman he’s known since he was eighteen, overwhelmed for a moment by how little things have changed since the first time he ever noticed her. Bradley fondly watches as she furiously types, hunched over her laptop with headphones, playing what he knows is eighties hair bands.

Her nose wrinkles in frustration, and suddenly it’s 2003 again, and he’s trying to get the attention of the red-haired girl whose table has the only empty chair left, something he desperately needs since this book can’t leave the library. He’s unable to get her attention and resorts to knocking on the table, heart skipping a beat when the prettiest green eyes he’s ever seen blink up at him. Bradley gestures at the empty chair, silently asking if he can sit, and is grateful when she nods because her smile is making his knees wobble. For the next hour, he tries to take notes for his paper, but he keeps getting distracted by the beautiful girl across from him. Bradley isn’t sure if he’s upset or happy when she packs up her stuff and leaves, giving him a little wave when she notices him watching her.

That had been thirteen years ago, and her intense focus still distracts him, but he’s not afraid to interrupt her this time. Fingers rub her arm that is covered in his sweatshirt again, but this time, he knows it smells like her shampoo instead of his cologne. Her smile still sends his heart skipping when she looks up at him, her pretty eyes widening in joy when she catches sight of the red snack packaging and the plastic cup holding her second favorite soda.

“Thank you!” She whispers, leaning across the empty middle seat in their row to kiss his cheek. “Oh, and we should go out to lunch when we get back! I want to try that new noodle place that opened in Southie.”

He just smiles when she immediately gets back to work; cheek puffed out from the cookie she stuffed in her mouth.

Maybe she’s not avoiding our talk from last night.

Thursday, August 11, 2017 | 2:15 PM EST | Boston, MA

“You got a minute?” Bradley knocks on the edge of her cubicle. It may be a different floor of their building, but all of the office space is the same dated stuff from decades ago.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“First of all…” He ducks down and presses a swift kiss to her plush mouth, still trying to make up for all those years he couldn’t. “And don’t say anything because I already checked before I did because I wanted to kiss my girl.”

He chuckles at the pink spots that shine on her cheeks. It’s been a year since Sherrie snagged the promotion, and they officially became an item, but she still turns a little red whenever he says something sweet.

“Second, you are all packed, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“I was gonna swing by the apartment and get our bags so we can head straight to the airport after work.”

“You took the afternoon off? Why?”

Bradley was expecting this question and smoothly fibs. “I worked the hours out with Martin for this week so I could run a few last-minute errands. Do you want me to grab snacks?”

“Okay, Mr. Secrets. When you’re at home, could you water the ivy? I forgot this morning, and I don’t want it to die while we’re gone.”

“Of course! Need me to do anything else?”

Sherrie hums, staring at the ceiling as she thinks. “One more kiss?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bradley happily complies with her request.

“Okay, now you have to go. I have to finish prepping for this meeting where I get to yell at Sean.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll pick you up later. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Have fun with your mysterious errands.” Sherrie teases, and Bradley smirks back, knowing how much she would be freaking out if he knew what he would be doing while she professionally reamed out their least favorite colleague.

“Thanks, honey. Text me if you think of something.” Sherrie waves over her shoulder, already zoned back into her work.

Bradley doesn’t dare look at his buzzing phone until he’s safely on the elevator, pleased to see confirmation texts from their hotel and the airline. Would it be cheesy to quietly propose in the airport that was a catalyst in their relationship? Maybe, but he knew Sherrie would love it. He’s just hoping the TSA didn’t call out the ring that would be hiding in his carry-on.

#deltasupremacy I also want to give a special thanks to @sometimesanalice, who gave so much encouragement through the texts despite having no idea what I was writing - you're the best! tagged some friends and most those who interacted with the original announcement post for this fic all those months ago!

tagging: @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @laracrofted @theharddeck @hangmanbrainrot @hangmanssunnies @thesewordsareallihavetogive @princessphilly @katieshook02 @atarmychick007 @kmc1989 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @misfitpeach @luckyladycreator2 @scarlettwidow19 @mini-bee-bee @midnightstarqueen @shamelessghostwagonwobbler

divider credit

#top gun maverick fic #top gun fic #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster fic #top gun maverick au #top gun maverick imagine #top gun au #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #elle writes

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in1-nutshell · 1 month

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Third request since you opened them, I just have a lot of ideas. I was rereading the Bee's team meets megatons daughter with the opposite personality Buddy and it got me thinking. You know how Knockout, Breakdown, Steve, and maybe Soundwave? Couldn't tell. But you know how all of them switched side because of Buddy in that one fic you wrote? (Or maybe not, there's a nagging thought in the back of my mind that I dreamed that.) Imagine they all notice that Buddy's missing and there's a slight panic because yeah, Buddy can take care of herself but why wouldn't she tell them? They find out that Buddy's back on earth and now there are a few ex-cons standing at the scrapyard's gate. (Or maybe Knockout never left earth and already knew she was there? Because there's that one episode where Bumblebee and Strongarm are thrown into the car lot with the uhm, wheel cuff things, and it pans out to a very suspicious cherry red Aston Martin. I refuse to believe that's not Knockout. And since Fixit (I think, can't remember.) and the humans had to go and rescue them maybe Buddy tagged along and Knockout saw them? Buddy might've also seen Knockout and decided to get the wheel cuff off of him as well. (Or maybe he didn't have a wheel cuff, can't remember. Jeez, how much have I said that?)) Anyways this was just a really long ramble of an idea that can be taken multiple ways. So do what you wanna do with this.

There's a bit of an explanation on the timeline in here. If it sounds a bit confusing, feel free to let me know so I can explain it better.

Also, added a little extra in here...

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron's daughter with the opposite personality reactions from Knockout, Breakdown, Steve, and Soundwave finding out she went missing

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Familial, Cybertronain reader

RiD 2015

Going through the canon timeline of megs daughter.

Soundwave does get sent to the shadow zone through an altercation.

Buddy never finds out what happened to him.

She believes that he left Megatron during the chaos.

She was a bit sad that he never came back to talk to her or anything, but she also believed that he was taking some time to find himself after being a Decepticon for so long.

Knockout and Breakdown end up having joint stay between earth and Cybertron.

The pair loved driving through Earth scenery and was a place to escape Cybertron for a while.

Most of the Decepticons had started their new lives on Cybertron now that the war was over.

Buddy was no different.

Not only had she started a brand-new life, Buddy and Steve had recently become Conjunx Endura after a while of dating.

Steve had been on an away assignment for his work when Buddy left through the portal of their shared habsuite.

Steve walking into their home.

“Buddy! I’m back!”--Steve

Silence…

“Buddy! I’m back?”--Steve

Silence…

Steve starts looking around the home.

“Buddy? Buddy if this is another joke, I don’t like it!”--Steve

A few minutes later…

Knockout looks at his monitor seeing Steve calling.

“Breakdown its Steve!”--Knockout

“Put him on.”--Breakdown

Steve shows up on the screen.

“Hey Ste—”--Breakdown

“SHE’S GONE!”--Steve

Breakdown and Knockout out jump a bit.

“Gone? Who’s gone?”--Knockout

Steve has his servo on his helm.

“BUDDY! BUDDY’S NOT HERE!”--Steve

“Calm down Steve. Maybe she went out for a walk or something. Or maybe she went to go visit a friend. Remember last time?”--Breakdown

“…Maybe your right…”--Steve

“But if she doesn’t come back in a week then let us know.”--Breakdown

“Steve nods and hangs up.

One week later…

Steve starts calling Knockout and Breakdown.

Breakdown answers.

“Hey—Primus Steve!”--Breakdown

Steve looks tired and on the verge of a literal break down.

“SHE’S STILL NOT HERE!”--Steve

Soundwave, meanwhile, had spent his time looking for Megatron’s signal. He escaped the shadow zone a couple weeks before Buddy showed up, so he didn’t know that she was here.

Soundwave picks up on a frantic link between Knockout, Breakdown and Steve about Buddy disappearing.

He follows the frequency to Breakdown and Knockout which scares them half to death.

“Soundwave!”—Breakdown and Knockout

Soundwave stands there with his arms crossed.

“Breakdown—Knockout—Buddy?”--Soundwave

“We don’t know. Steve just told us she went missing from their home.”--Breakdown

Soundwave clenches his servos a bit.

The sound of a portal gets their attention.

Out pops out Steve.

“I’m here! I’m—SOUNDWAVE?!”--Steve

“Explain.”--Soundwave

“Steve is here to assist us on the search for Buddy.”--Knockout

Soundwave steps to Steve.

Knockout and Breakdown step to Steve’s side.

“He is Buddy’s Conjunx Soundwave. He has the right to be here.”--Breakdown

Soundwave freezes a bit hearing it.

“Buddy—Conjunx?”—Soundwave

Steve gulps a bit but puts on a brave face.

“Yes, I’m her Conjunx. A Conjunx that’s worried for her safety. We’d really appreciate it if you helped us find her.”--Steve

Soundwave pauses a bit and turns to Knockout.

“Continue.”--Soundwave

“As I was saying, a day’s weeks ago I was booted and taken to the yard where I saw this other Autobot get stuck there too, awfully annoying mind you. And then look who shows up but Bumblebee and his new crew.”--Knockout

“He has a new team?”--Steve

“Yes, and I swear I heard him say ‘Buddy’. I thought at the time he was remembering her from Cybertron, but now that she went missing, there is a chance that Bumblebee might know where she is.”--Knockout

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”--Steve

“Slow down Steve we don’t even have a trail on where—”--Breakdown

“Signal—found. 30—minutes—east—city. Coordinates on—commlink.”--Soundwave

“Now we go!”--Steve

Steve transforms and speeds down the road.

“…He’s good to Buddy. Their a good match for each other.”--Breakdown

Soundwave looks at Steve’s retreating form.

“Soundwave—will see—about that.”--Soundwave

It’s nighttime when they arrive to the scrapyard.

Knockout thinks about literally knocking on the door.

They hear Buddy yelling.

“Okay we need a good plan—”--Knockout

Steve uses Breakdown like a steppingstone and launches himself over the high wall.

“Or we can go in guns blazing I guess…”--Knockout

“Soundwave—approve.”--Soundwave

Breakdown offers Knockout and Soundwave a way over.

He could wait until they opened the door.

Soundwave and Knockout are now over the wall.

All the scrapyards’ alarms are sounding.

The team is on high alert when Fix-it mentions the Decepticon signals inside the scrapyard.

Bee tells Buddy to get Denny and Russel out of the area.

Buddy grabs her friends and sets on leading them to the other side of the scrapyard with Fix it.

Steve is dodging blasters and staffs like it was his job back in the Decepticons.

He is slightly hurt that Bee didn’t recognize him but then again, he does have a pretty basic frame.

Steve raises his servos in surrender.

“HOLD IT! HOLD IT!”--Steve

“Freeze Decepticon!”--Strongarm

“Hey! I said hold it! Now, I’m not here to hurt anyone—”--Steve

“I am.”--Soundwave

“Soundwave?!”--Bumblebee

The weapons get charged up and ready to attack.

“WE are not here to attack. Listen, Bumblebee, we’re just here to—”--Steve

“Where did everyone go?”--Breakdown

Breakdown and Knockout walk in on the standoff.

“Knockout? Breakdown? What is going on?!”--Bumblebee

Steve face palms.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to explain but everyone here seems to keep on interrupting me!”--Steve

Silence.

“Now. We came here to ask you if you’ve seen Buddy around?”—Steve

“Buddy?”--Bumblebee

The team immediately gets ready to attack.

“If you think we’re about to give her to you, then your sorely mistaken.”--Drift

“So, you do know where she is!”--Steve

Grimlock steps up front.

“And you’re going to have to go through me if you want her.”--Grimlock

“Fine by me.”--Steve

Meanwhile, with Buddy...

“I think we’re safe here.”--Buddy

“Thank the Prime’s.”—Fix-it

“AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!”

Buddy freezes.

She quickly looks at Denny Russel and Fix it.

“Stay here.”--Buddy

With that Buddy sprints back.

Grimlock had grabbed Steve and slammed him to the ground when he tried to get past him.

Steve luckily manages to get out of his grip and falls back.

Buddy is sprinting back to the main part of the scrap yard ready for whatever she was going to face.

She hides behind some used oil barrel and takes a peek at who the trouble was.

Buddy spots Steve on his knees, holding his side a bit.

She runs out of her hiding place.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE! HOLD YOURE FIRE!”--Buddy

Most of Team Bee looks in shock that Buddy starts running past them.

“Buddy! Don’t—”--Grimlock

“HOLD YOURE FIRE!”--Buddy

The team hesitantly puts some of their weapons down.

Buddy rushes over to Steve, who was frozen seeing Buddy there.

“Primus Steve are you okay? That denting doesn’t look too—Oof!”--Buddy

Steve fights the shooting pain on his side and flings his arms around Buddy pulling her incredibly close.

“Oh, Thank the Allspark you’re okay!”--Steve

He lets go to look her over.

“Are you hurt? Where did you go? Were you kidnapped? What’s—“--Buddy hugs him tight making him go quiet.

He just wraps his arms around her and stifles a sob in his throat.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know this was going to be such a long mission, but when Prime calls you, you gotta go.”--Buddy

“Excuse me when Prime what?”--Steve

“CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN WHAT IS GOING ON?!”—Sideswipe

Team Bee is extremely confused.

Soundwave takes a few steps forward and Buddy launches at her uncle he hugs back surprising everyone.

Then she goes to Knockout and Breakdown.

There is a lot to explain.

Steve stays by Buddy’s side the entire time.

“Hey Buddy, who is… Steve exactly?”--Denny

“He’s my Conjunx.”--Buddy

Steve feels a swell of pride and love hearing those words.

Steve grabs Buddy’s servo.

“That’s still sounds nice, you know.”--Steve

Buddy smiles shyly at him.

“Your Conjunx!”—Team Bee

“How come you never told us?!”--Sideswipe

“It never came up?”--Buddy

“What’s a Conjunx?”--Russel

“The Earth equivalent of a significant other.”--Breakdown

“You’re married?!”--Russel

“How?!”--Sideswipe

Buddy looks at Steve.

“That’s a story for another time.”--Buddy

“No, that’s a story for now.”--Sideswipe

“Another time.”--Buddy

“Now!”--Sideswipe

In the end Knockout and Breakdown end up going back to their home on earth. They do offer their services in case something bad does happen in their area.

Soundwave decides to take some time for himself not knowing what to do with everything now that the war is over.

Steve decides to stay in the scrapyard with Buddy and Team Bee.

#maccadam #transformers x reader #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader

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virginburial · 10 months

Text

.·:*¨༺ a little death. ♱ chad meeks-martin ༻¨*:·.

SUMMARY: in which you have a pretty intense night terror alternatively, in which you, a friend of the core four, is stuck at a slumber party, where Chad comforts you after having a nightmare

SHIP: afab!reader x chad meeks-martin WARNINGS: explicit content (minors stay out), unprotected p n v, praise kink, sub!reader, soft dom!chad, choking/gagging, reader jealous as fuck towards Tara, ethan/chad rivalry?? for your attention, "i kIsS tHe sCaRs On hEr SkIn!1!1!!1! XD" type shit, chad is coochie drunk (and a heavy dirty talker), random storytelling/porn with a plot. fluff if you squint. TW FOR: mentions of murder, character death, grief, recovery/healing, ptsd related topics, body image.

WORD COUNT: 6.1K

SONG: a little death by the neighbourhood.

A/N: hello hotties!! i told myself "this is going to be a short one it's pretty to-the-point" but then i forgot who the fuck i was and realized i don't know chill and wrote 6K words of this. typical me behavior. this is for my shawties you love some emotional intimacy <3 chad is the actual loml, i'm shocked i'm writing for him now when i should've done this more last year lol REBLOGS, NOTES, AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED !!

.·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

you woke up to your scream.

It was Halloween weekend, and the news had just broke about the two murdered college students, and their film professor. You, a Woodsboro native knew exactly what this meant. You weren't just any Woodsboro native; you were directly involved with the recent Ghostface massacre of 2022. You had lived in Woodsboro for only a short fraction of your life, yet what happened there impacted everything you do now.

You had moved from the south; Georgia-Florida-Alabama-ish. You met your current friends in your eighth grade year; coincidentally, the year one of your friends, Tara, had an issue where her sister ran from home. you enjoyed your little life there until it was viciously torn from you by your best friend and her psycho-groomer boyfriend-who you always had a bad feeling about. you were dating Wes at the time of his death, and after he went, so did all of your patience for the slasher genre. fuck the box office, fuck the critics, fuck the movie.

when things had finally settled down, you and your newfound family decided to make the ambitious move to new york. you were stuck being undeclared though as you slowly figured out what you want to get out of your experience at Blackmore. which all leads to now; October 30th, and the boogeyman you only saw in your dreams or in old photos of amber, was now prowling Manhattan for the survivors and fresh meat; ridiculous and fucked, that's what that is. your new friends; Ethan, Quinn, and Anika barely knew the drill. but you did. you've played this game before, unaware you were playing; now your focus could not be shaken.

Sam had suggested a fucked-up slumber party of sorts; "if we all stay together then he won't attack." "or we could be feeding him an all-you-can-eat buffet." Mindy croaks after Sam. Regardless, you knew that it was probably for the best everyone stayed together, especially the new ones. you had your suspicions about Ethan, who seemed to have taken a liking to you. the average sweet nerdy boy who's a bit corny, it all seemed a little too familiar. he would still try to get you to talk to him, stare you down, you could've sworn he stole something out of one of your drawers some time ago while looking for the restroom. you would never admit this out loud, because everyone is always so fucking uptight, but you never really cared about how he objectified you. you liked the attention.

but he gave off joe goldberg energy, and you were more of a steve harrington girl.

it beats having to look at your long-term crush, Chad, who was falling for Tara. you always felt like the silver lining of both of your partners dying would be that he would finally look at you; but just like Wes when she first got attacked, Chad's eyes were on Tara. fucking Tara. nothing wrong with her, she was your friend. maybe you just needed to stop crushing on and dating boys who would all rather fuck Tara Carpenter than give you the light of day. but then again, you don't even think you're ready for romance to reappear in your life. last year you were manipulated, stalked, and stabbed; Tinder sex would be a nightmare. so there goes that pipe dream.

you were sleeping in Tara's room with Quinn, Mindy, and Anika, while Chad and Ethan slept in the living room and Sam slept in Quinn's room; which was closer to everyone. It took everyone until midnight to get ready for bed, then Tara's music was too loud, and then Mindy and Anika started getting frisky which caused Tara to yell out "ARE YOU GUYS FUCKING?!" which led to Quinn screaming and laughing, which caused Ethan and Chad to rush in like knights ready to save the damsels, who were just making out. so Anika and Mindy were banished (by Chad) to Sam's room. you made a mental note to remind Sam to wash her sheets.

you knew, despite the horrible situation that was starting to arise, that right now felt like any other night with your friends, and that it might be the last time things will ever be this way. so what had you screaming the way you are now? if not, a horrific night terror you had about how everything went down last year: the look in Richie's eyes piercing you through the mask as he violently stabs you, leaving gashes as you screamed out for the one person who can't even rescue you; Wes. this happened three hours after the last person went to sleep, making it 3 am.

the thing with you that the others don't understand is that you had frequent nightmares about what happened. it's nearly a nightly occurrence and every night it's something different; Mindy's under the mask, Amber, Tara, Chad, Ethan, Sam, Anika, the Bodega guy, the guy who played Billy in Stab one, fucking Gale Weathers. It keeps you up half the night, flashing your phone flashlight in the corner of your dorm and waking your dormmate. you used to sleep with a hunting knife; stuffing it under your pillow and holding it under there. you also have several cans of bear mace; you were Wes's girlfriend after all. you inherited all of his self-defense tools.

the only one who understands is Sam. You can't believe the situation that's been happening between her and Tara; you would've killed to have an older sister who cares about you like Sam. Of course, your ID starts talking and tells you that Tara is just ungrateful to have a supportive family and Chad's attention and not want it. It fills you with envy. Sam gets it. Sam gets you. Sam tells you to try tea or get a medical marijuana card like she did, or try Zoloft like Mindy is doing. Mindy sarcastically suggests substance abuse.

you scream, having it rip through the still silence that filled the apartment. with a flip of a light switch, the big overhead light shines over the scene of you; hyperventilating and pacing around as Tara rubs her eyes. The boys, with Mindy, rush into the room on queue as Quinn stands up from the bed. "hey! hey y/n!" she tries to get your attention, anything to break you free from the sobbing mess you were starting to become. Tara decides to do the worst possible thing and start shaking you, she seems almost confused and pissed off as to why you woke her up. "y/n! look at me-" Tara tries to get your attention. "hey! Tara, that's not helping-" "-y/n, girl, what's wrong?" Quinn talked over Ethan.

then, finally, Sam chimes in and pushes past everyone; shooting Tara a worried look as she slowly wraps her arms around you. you slowly sink in Sam's arms and sob as she softly pats your back. "another one?" she asked, and you nod, unable to speak as you take a harsh gasp and slowly breath out, trying not to sob more than you already have. you hated being so emotional in front of your friends, you hated being emotional in general.

"wait so there was no one in here?" Ethan chirps.

Sam shakes her head. "no." she huffs out. "no no, just a night terror...I had one like this the other night. she'll be okay-" "-like hell she is, Samantha! I mean, look at her! she's shaking like a chihuahua!" Mindy blurts out. "I'm gonna make you tea, y/n," she announced as she went to the kitchen. Sam sighs, you could almost feel another brick weigh Sam down with the way she carried herself, then Tara spoke up. "Sorry I shook you, I...I panicked," she admits, which you knew was the truth.

you sigh softly, your face beet red, blinking away the last of your tears. "it's f-fine-" "-it's really not, I mean, do you shake someone when they're having a seizure?" Tara lightly jokes, earning a small laugh as you sniffle.

Sam speaks up. "I think one of us should stay here with y/n, at least until she falls back asleep. I would but I am very tired."

"I don't mind-" "-i'll do it," Chad and Ethan said in unison, which ended with Ethan's side-eyeing Chad. then Chad spoke up again. "I can bore her with one of my old football stories, plus i've known her for years." if only you could read Ethan's mind, even when the look on his face said it all. Sam looks down at you, getting your nod of approval before glancing back at Chad. "yeah, that sounds good."

Chad, who had come in charging with a chunky remote controller, just passed it to Ethan as he went back into the living room to grab his pillow. Sam rubbed her eye. "the girls can move to my room-" "-yikes." Mindy jingles as she came in with a mug. "I might've been sleeping there, with Anika, if you know what I-" Sam's face falls flat. "-you better be fucking joking, Mindy." she deadpans

"It's not like you're using that new mattress at its full capacity."

"okay gross." Chad gags, clutching his pillow and throwing it on the mattress. by then, Tara and Quinn already moved into Sam's room, probably collapsing at the door and sleeping on the floor as Mindy handed you the warm tea. She gives you a look that makes your stomach flip, it was almost sympathetic. almost like Mindy herself knows how it feels to be woken up like that. Mindy retreats to the room before Sam can say anything else. she sighs. "now I have an excuse to go to Target, and burn those sheets." she turns to you. "you sure you're gonna be fine here, with Chad?" she asks, Ethan, peering right behind her.

"Yeah, thanks, Sam," you tell her as she walks out, leaving just you, Chad, and Ethan. Ethan just purses his lips and gives you a weak smile before shutting the door and the lights off. you sit back down on the bed, grab the mug of tea, and sipped it sweetly, feeling the hot liquid run down your throat as Chad turns on the lamp. The room was cold, dimly lit with autumn new york air hitting your skin from the window next to you, the one Quinn cracked open.

Chad groans softly as he flops on the messy bed. he's surprised anyone is even getting a wink of sleep tonight, especially you, with how stiff and cold you got the moment everyone left. he stares at you for a second, unable to say anything before blurting out. "...do you wanna watch a movie on my phone? it can be a funny one." he offers. "I have We Are The Millers downloaded." but you just retract even more. why? why can you just shut off whatever's stopping you from opening up? maybe it was the stark realization you never really trusted anyone, ever.

you stayed silent, unsure of what to do; he wouldn't have offered if he didn't care a little. plus, it was only until you fell asleep. he was not going to stay with you the entire night. you turn to him, biting the inside of your cheek as you sip more of the tea. "no thanks, i've already seen it." you say. he isn't like Ethan; Ethan would just start leading the conversation with questions like 'Oh so what's a movie you haven't seen?' and whatever movie you think of off the top of your head will be the one that'll play. Chad just kind of stops after that; less of a nuisance but you were sure he wasn't at his full power since he hasn't really slept. because Chad can be annoying.

"you know you hit the floor, right?"

you furrow your eyebrows. "what?"

"you fell off your bed, that's what woke you up. it was very loud, and woke me up," he says as he scoots over to you, sitting right next to you. "I'm a light sleeper now, it's a recent development. it's not all that fun...Tara said you were murmuring in your sleep too before you hit the ground." your face burns with embarrassment. "...how often does that happen?" he curiously asked.

"What is to you?"

"just looking out for you. y'know, since the masked killer that tried killing us last year is trying to kill us again." his voice dripped with sarcasm. you scoff. of course. "...it happens a lot, maybe one of two times a week? it used to be every night."

"I guess that explains your caffeine addiction."

you chuckle weakly. "thanks doctor dudebro."

"I'm just saying, I wish you would've told one of us you were having nightmares..." he voices. "you know, Mindy used to have really bad nightmares. She would call me almost every night around the same time, just screaming and hyperventilating. it feels pretty real at the moment. then you wake up and it's not real." he mumbles towards the end. looking down a bit. you study the expression on his face, you knew Chad was more than some meathead jock, he gave you butterflies, and he seemed to be the healthiest among the survivors. he looks at you. "I'm on like 75 milligrams of Zoloft at all times so...I know what it's like, I've had my fair share of Richie-Amber adjacent nightmares," he confesses.

your stomach churns from what comes out of his mouth. "is that why you agreed to stay here? to talk me into talking about what happened and get medicated-" you jumped. Chad shakes his head. "no no, I'm not here to tell you what to do, or how to heal, It's just...hard seeing you this way." you know exactly what he means, so you dropped the stubborn act. "I know none of us are really dealing with it, but now it's happening again...and I don't want to get hurt again. I don't..." he processes what he's about to say before expressing it; "...I don't want any of us to get hurt again."

"...do you think about her?" you blurt out. "liv, I mean."

Chad freezes. you almost start to feel bad about bringing her up before he responds with. "most days." he croaks out softly. "sometimes I think if I would've just done what she wanted and went upstairs with her, things would be different." he fiddles with his fingers. "but then again, probably in the worst way, right? I don't know what I would've done if...if it was Mindy. or you." he flashes you a frail smile. "I think about her every time I hear a Paramore song, or when I see orange is the new black on Netflix or pink box dye. I hate the smell of that sugar cookie body mist that Quinn uses, it's the same one Liv had. She wanted to study 'abnormal psychology', she would've loved it up here...what about you? Do you think about Wes?"

"every night." your voice slightly breaks. "his Spotify account is still up, all the music he neatly organized into playlists for us is still on there, just collecting dust," you mumble, then, you feel pressure slowly lift off your chest as you continued to talk about him. "I deleted Spotify, though. can't be on there without seeing something he made for me or seeing his face, and Instagram too. His dad gave me a box of his things at the funeral and I brought it with me here, I can't look at it for very long without crying," you confess. "...can I be honest?"

"This is probably the most honest you'll ever get me, so shoot."

You let out a sigh, feeling your heart drop to your stomach as you stared into his eyes. "things in my life were already starting to go downhill before everything, and now...it never will feel the same, you know? I will never get over this, i'll just have to learn how to live with it when it's already happening again." Chad watches you, seeing your eyes sorrowly hang as the words spilled from you. he hates seeing you like this. you used to be so full of life, animated, and passionate; now you were just a shell. he softly bumps his shoulder next to you and gives you a reassuring smile. "...you're not alone." his voice softly spoke. "it feels lonely, but you're not alone."

you finish the tea, setting it on the nightstand before Chad speaks up again. "what makes you say that, though?" he perks up. "that things were starting to go downhill?" he asks, maybe genuinely curious. you bite the inside of your cheek. "I had this feeling that Wes was in love with Tara. I thought I was just going crazy but after Ghostface attacked her, and I saw the way he looked at her, I knew I couldn't keep denying it anymore. I just wanted him to look at me the way he looked at her, everyone looks at her like that, but now he can't because Amber wanted to cosplay Stu Macher." you spat, your condescending tone dripping in anger. "...i've just been filled with jealousy ever since, mostly towards Tara, sometimes at Quinn...the whole situation made me feel...ugly."

Chad scoffs a little, and you immediately get defensive, but the better half of you knows Chad is not going to judge you. "you? jealous of Tara?! Tara Carpenter? The same Tara in this apartment?!" he seems almost appalled. "y/n...Tara Carpenter is a mess." he exposes. "Tara shows up to class drunk. Tara got her driver's license suspended. Tara's mom dropped her after her dad and Sam left already. Tara almost died three times!! Wes was crazy for you, he loved you-it annoyed the shit out of me really but he did. Tara might be pretty but she isn't you...I know what you're trying to say, but the last person you should be jealous of is Tara." Chad rambles. silence falls on the both of you for a second as you process what he told you; he's right. Tara has some horrible luck, you needed to stop comparing yourself to her.

"...if it makes you feel better, I get jealous of Ethan."

well, that was a shock. "huh?!"

Chad chuckles softly. "yeah, I do, I get jealous of Ethan sometimes." you can notice him getting a bit flustered. "he-he's just lucky, you know? he didn't experience what we did, so he can walk alone at night and go to bars without feeling like he's being watched...he isn't active, which annoys me so much." he raises his hands in defense. "I know I know, it's not my life, but when he does tag along and goes to the gym with me, he can work out a lot longer than I can. he can wear whatever he wants. he can take his shirt off and no one will stare at him or ask questions. he doesn't have chronic pain. he can go and date whoever he wants and not feel bad about his body, or feel bad that he's cheating on his dead girlfriend...little shit like that makes me jealous," he admits, pressing his tongue against his cheek. "my injuries from last year were so severe that I can't even play my favorite sport anymore, and Ethan just gets to sit around and play World of Warcraft with his perfect nervous system." his words stung.

you couldn't think of anything to say, because he was right; it's not fair, none of this is fucking fair. suddenly, you can't help but slide your hand over to his, squeezing it softly. Chad studies you for a second, his brown eyes scanning how beautiful your features looked in the dark, you couldn't help but notice how clammy his hands were starting to get, he opens his mouth to say something, then he stops himself before saying something else; "...can I show you?" he asks.

you glance over at him, seeing how close to you he already was. you could feel your cheeks heating up as your eyebrows slightly raised from his request. you were shocked that he trusted you. "you...wanna show me? you won't even show Mindy-" "-Mindy can never take anything seriously, y/n. She's gonna call me Tony the Tiger if I show her." that made you chuckle, considering one of the scars that you had also looked like animal print; or you romanticized it to the point where it reminded you of a zebra stripe. so you nod. "yeah...yeah you can show me."

Chad, noticeably nervous, sighs before lifting his shirt slightly, revealing not one, not two, or three, but four or more deep scars that dented his already chiseled chest. your face flushes, blood traveling to your cheeks as you examine his body, how his skin was still healing, how deep the valley of his abs truly was. your throat goes dry, almost like you can't process the amount of pain Chad might be going through or what he went through when he got those scars. It's almost like he sees you contemplating on what to say; if there was anything you can say to make him feel better. your lips slowly part as you lean in closer.

"you can touch it." Chad chimes.

you look up at him for approval, even though he told you that you could. shakily, your hand slowly grazes down his chest, your fingers running down the canyons of his chest, reminding yourself that this was the case for you too, both physically and mentally scarred. you could feel Chad's breath hitch softly, and you stop. "did I hurt you or-?" "-no, no you didn't hurt me..." he says softly, his pupils growing in size as he watches you feel him. you know the room was not well-lit but you knew he could see you blushing. before you know it, Chad's hands slowly creep over to your hips, pulling you closer in the most unsubtle way. "may I?" he asks.

you were flustered, and all the blood that ran to your cheeks ran down to your core, feeling your heartbeat slowly revive itself down there as Chad's big hands rested themselves on your lower back. you squeezed your thighs together; you've wanted this for so long, you wanted Chad's attention since sophomore year, so you nod your head. Chad smiles softly at you before lifting your shirt slightly and exposing the scar on your stomach. you blushed from the tension and the embarrassment. you could feel Chad's hot breath on your neck as his fingers slowly graze your curves, just softly skimming past the waistband of your pajamas as he looks into your eyes. "...did I mention that I get jealous of the way Ethan looks at you?... Same reason I was so annoyed with Wes-"

the desperation of having Chad's hands on you drives you over the edge as you crash your lips into Chad's, feeling how chapped they were as you relax into the kiss. you did this for your inner teenager, who's probably doing summersaults because you're finally kissing Chad Meeks-Martin. before you knew it, Chad eagerly kisses you back, one of his hands squeezing your waist as the kiss grew more and more passionate. you weren't expecting this, but thinking back at it now, you should've seen this coming. you pull away from the kiss, realizing that your hands involuntarily wrapped themselves around his neck, and your faces were just a few inches apart. "well shit..." Chad mumbles as you notice his cheeks turning a dark shade of red.

he then grabs your chin delicately and kisses you softly, making sure you were present as his hands drop to your hips. the last person you were with like this was Wes, and you knew Chad was in the same boat with Liv. you pull away, seeing his lips chase after yours as you placed his hand on his chest. "Chad...should we be doing this?" he stares into you, his bottom lip caught in his teeth as he gnaws on it, unsure of what to say. "I would like to..." he said softly, pulling you closer. "We should make some new memories..." he huskily whispers before attaching his lips to your neck. your breath hitches as you grab onto him, and once he does that, you realized you wanted nothing more than to fuck Chad. "w-we should." you respond.

Chad manhandles you, again, pushing you back up against the mattress, grabbing your neck and jaw as he leaves open-mouthed kisses, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as a soft gasp leaves you. he hovers on top of you, his breath getting heavier with each kiss before pulling away from your neck entirely. the look he gives you is full of passion. "besides, can't watch you squeeze your thighs like that and expect me not to want you..." he mumbles softly. your heart feels like it's on crack at this point, your stomach cramming with anxiety and lust as you kissed him roughly.

his lips felt so right on yours like they were always supposed to be there. he quickly gets in between your legs and reattaches his lips to your collarbone, his hands sliding down to your hips as you press them up against his growing bulge. a small moan escaped passed his lips as you grab his face and bring him back to your neck. every touch fills you with passion, your moans getting increasingly louder before Chad completely pulls away. "shhh." he chuckles softly, grabbing your jaw and making you look at him, squeezing your cheeks a little. "our friends are right outside, don't wanna wake them, right angel?" god he's so fucking fine. "no matter how cute you sound."

Chad delicately pulled your shirt off, revealing your tits, since you pulled your bra off before climbing into bed. his eyes could not peel away from them, as hard as he tried to focus on anything else. he gently flicked his tongue around the bud off your left tit, then slowly slides his tongue down your stomach, over your scar, and down to your abdomen. your face soured up from how different it felt having Chad kiss and suck and lick down your stomach. he leans up and kisses you. "your body is so beautiful, you know that?" he mumbles softly against your ear, and you respond by nodding, because deep down you always knew, just never affirmed.

Chad's hands slowly found themselves sliding off your silk pajama shorts, which might've been driving him crazy all night. he slowly reveals your panties, basic cotton white boyshorts with a wet stain conveniently down the middle. he pulls you to the edge of the bed, standing up as he gets a better look. he smirks at the sight of it, you could see his mouth nearly watering as his left hand softly grazes your clothed core. his class ring hitting your sensitive nub as your hips gently jerk to the sensation of it. then, his hand softly slaps it, a soft, wet squelch coming out of you as your body jolts again. you whine as he starts to speak; "fuck...poor angel, must be very desperate, huh?" he taunts.

you can barely think of what to say, already so desperate to feel him that you just lazily nodded your head. he grabs your face. "cmon, use your words." he says gently. it makes you feel so weak in the knees as his free hand softly caresses your cunt. "when was the last time you came, angel? you're so sensitive..." he uses his thumb to rub your throbbing clit in circles, still waiting for you to answer. "l-long ago..." and you weren't lying. it's hard to focus on yourself and your needs when you're constantly in survival mode, and it's harder to make yourself cum when the last person who did got brutally murdered. Chad gets it, considering how flaccid his anti-depressants made him. seeing you in this position, though, finally gives him the hard-on he's been waiting for. "let's fix that."

He slowly slips two fingers into you, watching your back arch as he quickly covers your mouth, his hand taking up half of his face as he thrusts them slowly in you. he sees your body slowly adjusting to his fingers as your muffled moans pushed pass the cracks of his knuckles. his class ring hits your clit with a certain rhythm, making you twitch as you hold onto his wrist. "fuck" you mumble in Chad's hand as he starts to recklessly pound his fingers into you. his actions were so rough but his words were so sweet, causing your brain to almost malfunction; "taking my fingers so fucking well." he pants softly.

your faint moans turned into muffled screams when Chad stuffs a third finger in there, curling them and thrusting them deeper and deeper into your aching hole. his hand clamping harder around your mouth as your screams got louder and higher. he looked so determined to push you over the edge, it's almost like he wants you to cum all over his fingers.

your eyes flutter as his thumb grazes over your clit. fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. you wish you had the entire apartment to yourself so you can scream and moan and do Chad on the dining table. for now, you're settling with him shutting you up with his knuckles deep in your hole. you can't help but feel your walls tighten around his fingers. he drags his fingers out and glances up at you, seeing how flustered and aroused you were as he slowly pulled off your panties, shushing you gently and moving his hand away from your mouth. "open wide angel." he hums before stuffing them in there.

you could taste how tart you were, saliva staining the panties as he slowly slides his finger down your folds, using his free hand to whip his cock out. You faintly groaned out in frustration. you haven't felt this good in so long, your skin hot to the touch as your fingernails dug themselves into his shoulder blades. your eyes pleading as they found themselves staring at his cock; you knew Chad was pretty big, Liv might've ranted a little bit about how she was 'sore' from the first time she did it with him. you weren't expecting him to be so thick either. you could see his cock tremble, his tip already soaked in precum as it glistens in the dim lighting, the lamp hitting it just right as he smirks at you. "come on, angel, show me how bad you need it." he coos softly, brushing your hair behind your ear.

you rest yourself on your elbows, staring down at that Alaskan bull worm Chad calls a penis as you imagine yourself getting nearly split in half by him. how badly your hole was begging for any kind of contact as Chad's muscular arm wraps itself around your thigh. you could see his hand slowly pump his cock as he waited for your answer, maybe you propped up the way you were could get the job done for him. you whine and try to squeeze your thighs again before he forces them open, prying them apart like a Venus flytrap as he slowly inserts himself. His tip slowly sinking into you "o..oh-f-fuck..." he groans softly, his voice getting even huskier as he pulls down on your hips. "your cunt sucks me up so well, angel...you're s-so tight." he mutters.

he slowly starts lunging his hips against yours, sweat gleaming from his forehead as he admires your reaction to every thrust, seeing your eyebrows furrow, your mouth falls open, your eyes fluttering, all of it just drives Chad insane. "such a pretty girl..." he nearly growls as he throws one of your legs over his shoulder; it's almost like he wanted to pace himself so he wouldn't get lost in the pleasure she was giving him; but it seemed nearly impossible as his pace increases.

your muffled moans got louder and louder, causing Chad's strong hand to wrap around your neck and squeeze it softly, your moans becoming inaudible as he starts to brutally fuck you into the mattress. you thought this whole exchange would trigger something primal in you, freak you out too much that you end up running out of the room, but it was quite the opposite. Chad leans down. "your pretty moans are gonna wake t-them up, angel." he warns her again, his tone was so sweet though, it made you melt. "how do you t-think everyone's gonna f-feel when they see you getting fucked out-mhm-like the doll you are-?" he groaned out softly, his teeth grazing your ear and tugging on it.

pleasure began to overwhelm you, your moans and whimpers turning into gasps and yelps as Chad clapped the hand he choked you with over your mouth, again. "f-fuck baby...you w-wanna be my angel, don't you?" he mumbles softly as your body started to jolt with pleasure, you could feel the panties hit the back of your throat, the essence of your juices left stuck on your tongue as your nails scratched up Chad's back. he then answers his own question. "I know you do, sweet girl...fuck, you hear how good you're taking me?" he praises.

your own pleasure starts to build up as your back arches, and you can't help but cry out from how good it made you feel, it almost made you regret waiting so long before making a move on Chad, or anyone else really. Chad's dirty ramblings keep you on edge: "My cock fits so perfectly inside of you a-angel...wanna be buried in you like t-this all the time-mhmfuck-" his whispers start to turn into strained statements, the sound of skin slapping echoing inside the room, if anyone else was awake in the apartment, they probably would have already noticed the intense fucking happening in that room.

the tip of his cock starts punching your g-spot like a boxer and his punching bag, you can't contain your muffled moans getting any louder; which causes Chad to cover your mouth for a third and final time. you could feel his cock seize inside of you as Chad's own groans start filling up the room. you were almost worried that Sam or Ethan were going to charge in here and see Chad balls deep inside of you. the pleasure starts to overwhelm you as your thighs shake uncontrollably, your hot breath wafting back into your face as Chad groans out quietly. "y-you need my cum, baby? mhm? that'll g-get you sleeping-" he manages to get out before feeling your juices gush out of you; realizing you had cum all over his cock, your body jerking in response as your eyes fluttered close.

involuntarily, Chad's cock squirms before you felt the thick ropes of his cum spill inside of you. you watched as his tense body finally relaxes into your touch, his heavy breaths and soft groans hitting your neck. seeing him slowly pull out and realizing he forgot to grab a condom from his wallet or check if Tara had some, oh well, it's not like he's gonna get murdered on the way to the pharmacy and back. he notices how limp you've become as he moves his hand away and pulls the panties out of your mouth. you can't help but notice how charming his smile was. he was glad he can catch you at this moment, all worn out and lazy but perfectly content, and finally dozing off to sleep. Chad gives you a lazy, soft kiss before you finally fell asleep.

the next morning, Chad and Mindy had run out to get breakfast; you were the last one to wake up, which Quinn noted as a good thing: "It means you finally caught up to your sleep schedule." which couldn't be further from the truth. you couldn't help but think about just a few hours prior, how good it all felt, how he basically fucked all the nervous energy out of you; feeling zen before the wave of reality hits you. The news was on, still talking about the new local Ghostface killings. you weren't sure if the slumber party kept you safer from the attacks or put you right in the middle of them, all you knew was that you had Chad as a bodyguard now. and when Chad finally comes back with several bags of Dunkin' breakfast sandwiches, he gave the only sprinkled donut he ordered to you.

.·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა

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safedistancefrombeingsmart · 5 months

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So those moments wouldn't have been completely scripted, you just give direction and sit back? Stephen Merchant: There'd be a loose bit of script. But we were always encouraging them to add to it, and keep it real. We learned to do that very early on. At first we used to write Tim and Dawn flirtation dialogue, and it was just excruciating when it was performed. It was actually way better if we just let Martin and Lucy talk like friends. Martin Freeman: That's the first time I've ever heard Ricky or Steve admit that! They used to dislike it when people said it was an improvised show. It wasn't, but anybody who knows me knows that some of those lines came straight from me. Of course they did. But I certainly wouldn't claim a co-write on it. “Scripted but loose”, is how I always describe it.

😃

#martin freeman #the office #tim canterbury #stephen merchant #interviews #gq magazine

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staygoldwriting · 2 years

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Cousin Buckley: Part 3

Summary: You’re Robin’s cousin, and you’ve stolen the hearts of Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson 🖤💜

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: none, just fluff!

Word count: 1201

A/N: I am having so much fun writing these, you guys! Thank you so much for all of the love, support, comments, reblogs, notes, follows, everything! It means so much, and I can’t wait to continue on with this series 🤗 I’m currently navigating the taglist, so I apologize for any problems!

“Welcome to Family Video!”

Robin opened the doors dramatically as you three stepped in. The previous workers wordlessly exited, thankful their shifts were over.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Buckley,” said one worker, a tall thin boy with a zombie-like look, “we had like, two customers all day.”

“I know, Martin, I know,” she said energetically. “But I always make it work, don’t I?”

“You do,” Martin replied flatly. “That’s why I never do my shifts with you. I need to spend my misery in peace.”

“Alright, Martin, that’s enough for today,” Steve smiled, ushering him out then turning to you. “Want a tour?”

You nodded excitedly as he placed his arm gently around your shoulder.

“So, we’ve got the main desk here, as you can see,” he gestured with his other arm. “To the left are kids movies, romances, comedies, then adventure and fantasy stuff. To the right is the more intense stuff, like horror and thrillers and big action movies, like the Terminator.”

“Smart divisions,” you said. “Was that your idea?”

“He wishes,” Robin snorted from the counter, then looked at Steve, panicking a bit. “He did organize the snacks though!” She quickly pointed at the display of snacks below the counter and you smiled.

“You guys need Nerds,” you remarked.

“I’ll make a note of it,” Steve smiled. “Okay, I’ll leave you to browse. Robin and I thought it would be fun to have a movie marathon night, so you’ve got your pick! Choose like three or four, but my only request is that one of them is Real Genius. I’ve been wanting to watch it for a while, but I haven’t had the time.”

“Same here!” you replied, smiling brightly. “I’ll grab that one for sure, and I also want to look for The Last Starfighter. I hear it’s really good.”

“Grab Sixteen Candles! Or Nightmare on Elm Street!” Robin called out.

“That’s quite the range,” you chuckled. “I’ll grab both.”

“Everything except Elm Street should be to your left,” Steve said. “Call out if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay, thanks Steve,” you smiled.

He moved his arm away and jumped over the counter, joining Robin. As you started your browsing, you looked back at the counter to see Steve glancing up at you. As you caught his eye, he blushed, looking down and smiling widely. Robin smirked a bit, then shook her head.

After looking around for a while, you found all of the movies and brought them up to the counter. Martin was right; not many people had stopped in to pick up a video, but you guessed it made sense for a Tuesday afternoon.

“Okay, I found everything we need for tonight,” you told Steve, handing him the movies. “How much is it?”

“Oh, you’re not paying,” Steve said with a chuckle.

“I have to, I’m a customer!” you gasped, then leaned closer, making Steve lean too. “I can’t steal.”

“I know,” Steve mimicked your tone. “What I mean is that I will rent them.”

“Oh,” you said. “Are you sure?” you looked at him hesitantly.

“Positive. You’re a guest and besides, I have an employee discount,” he winked, then took the movies to the register.

“Ready to play?” Robin asked, holding the cards. You nodded and went over to join her.

“I thought I’d relieve you of Steve duty,” she smirked, shuffling the cards.

“I don’t mind,” you smiled, glancing over at Steve, who was helping a customer.

“Listen, I know you’re a lot nicer than I am, but I know for sure that Steve can get annoying. Eddie, too. So just let me know if you need a break.”

“I promise I’ll let you know, but I’ve honestly been enjoying them. They’re cute,” you smiled a bit brighter.

“Cute as in a puppy who’s lost and following you around or cute like you’d want to date one of them?”

“I don’t know,” you blushed. “I mean, neither of them are bad-looking, but I wasn’t really thinking about them that way. Why?”

Robin shrugged. “Just wondering. They’re good guys, you know, just in case you’re looking…”

“Oh, Robin, I just got here!” you laughed. “Besides, I barely know them.”

“But do you want to know them?”

“I think you want me to know them,” you chuckled. “Rob, do you know something I don’t?”

“Not if you look hard enough,” she smirked, then dealt the cards.

~~~

You all arrived back at Robin’s house, and as you were getting out, Eddie drove up in his van. He leapt out with a few grocery bags and pizza boxes in his hands. When he noticed you three, he smiled widely and held them up.

“Sustenance!” he shouted, making everyone laugh.

You helped Eddie place all the food out in the kitchen as Robin grabbed cups. Steve prepared the living room, grabbing some blankets and pillows and placing the movies on the entertainment center. He then came in to grab some food. You decided to skip using plates and just share the pizza boxes, but you put some chips into bowls and got some sodas. You all gathered into the living room and squished on to the couch. Eddie was on your left, Robin on your right, and Steve was next to her.

“Okay,” Eddie said as he opened the box. “We’ve got pepperoni in this top one. I think cheese is below, and then there’s a veggie one underneath. Who wants what?”

“Veggie please,” Robin called, and you passed it to her.

“Cheese,” Steve said.

“I like pepperoni,” you smiled.

“Me too, we can share,” Eddie smiled back, placing the box between you two.

“I’m going to put the first movie in,” Steve said, getting up. “Any votes?”

“Real Genius!” Robin yelled, and you and Eddie nodded in agreement.

“So,” Eddie turned to you. “How’s your first day back in Hawkins been?”

“It’s been great!” you smiled. “I can’t believe I’ve only been here since today though, it’s been a busy day. A good kind of busy, though.”

“Don’t feel pressure to stay up for all of these, Y/N,” Robin said. “I forgot you just got here.”

“Thanks, Rob! If I fall asleep, no one draw on me, please,” you chuckled.

~~~

You successfully made it through Real Genius, laughing non-stop with everyone else. You went for Sixteen Candles next. You eventually got cold, so you used one of the blankets Steve brought out. You looked hesitantly at Eddie.

“Hey, um, do you mind if I lean on you please?” you asked, blushing. You were so tired, you could barely keep yourself propped up.

“Oh, no, I don’t mind, go ahead!” Eddie fumbled with his words a bit as he smiled, holding his arm out for you. You carefully scooted to his side, and once settled, he placed his arm on your back. The warmth felt comforting.

“If you get cold, feel free to steal some blanket,” you said, extending it to him. He accepted and laid it across his lap.

“Thanks, Y/N.” His smile made his eyes gleam.

Resting on Eddie made you feel so relaxed. Feeling his slow breathing slowed yours down too, and you felt yourself drift softly to sleep in his arms.

To be continued…

Taglist: @joequinn94 @simonsbluee @lagataprrr @holeformunson @efvyqrs @fieldofsecretss @phantomxoxo @fanficfanatic204 @steves-robin @toomanybandstocare @aeumi @jmj-1312 @theravenclawlover @onlyangel-444 @lou-la-lou @spideyycents @homiesexual-or-homosexual @justacaliforniandreamer @hawkins-hs @dumplinshee @ashdoctor @spaceygirly1 @hollandcomics @igotbasicdrag @underthebatcape @kaitcreatesart @evqans @whyislife954

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controversial-blorbo-bracket · 6 months

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Controversial Character Tournament Round 2: Orin Scrivello DDS from Little Shop of Horrors vs Berdly from Deltarune

(remember that these characters are fictional and your fellow tumblr users are real. i will block you if you harass others in the notes, please consider sending your unhinged harassment to my inbox instead)

Propaganda under the cut, may contain spoilers:

Orin Scrivello DDS:

BOTH: - "The whole joke with his character is he’s the worst kind of person and everyone hates him and he’s the most easily justifiable murder (domestic abuser and sadistic dentist) and as a person I definitely find him morally reprehensible (especially for his realistically controlling dialogue with Audrey) but as a character the enthusiastic way he is portrayed is always really fun and silly to me. Dentist! is a delightfully mean song and Steve Martin’s portrayal and mannerisms of him in that leather (vinyl?) apron is honestly hot and he’s hilarious as fuck. Still a domestic abuser though"

Berdly:

LOVE: - "He DOES NOT deserve to be controversial, at least to the level he is. Yeah he can be an asshole both intentionally and unintentionally, and his personality can be understandably grating on some people, and he is a bit of a pathetic loser, and he was a shitty friend to Noelle, but that's not the reason he's so controversial. Just because he fits the "cishet incel nerd" archetype doesn't mean he is one! He isn't transphobic or homophobic he's not a chaser he's not the guy they hate but they act like he is, they don't hate his character they just use him as a vessel to hate people they do hate, which is annoying, he wouldn't say that, just because he reminds you of someone who would say that doesn't he is like them use critical thinkings skill god hell. although i'll be real though some people kinda over shoot in the other direction and act like he did nothing wrong.. like he had a arc about learning he was wrong you kinda have to do things wrong to have an arc about that" - "He is my scrunkle skringus and I love him very much but also he is designed to be the MOST ANNOYING CHARACTER so many dislike him. He is soooo funny and pathetic."

#poll #round 2 #1 submission #2 submissions #berdly #berdley #berdly deltarune #deltarune #undertale #little shop of horrors #orin scrivello dds #orin scrivello #cw abuse

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palmtreesx3 · 7 months

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Act 3 - Getting Lucky

Praise Kink (Robin's Chapter)

<- Previous Chapter || Next ->

Series Masterlist

Get in the mood for this installment:

Series Playlist

Praise Kink Mood Board

Series Summary: (11.2k) Fall is settling in in the Windy City, and Steve and Robin are swept up in their overthinking. The pair are left to their own devices at the shop while Murray is off traveling to Sex Toy conventions. Robin and Alex have grown closer and are the perfect pair, but Robin’s growing a bit of a complex because the relationship isn’t quite a s reciprocal as she’d like, so she calls in the reserves to give her the tutorial she needs to overcome her trepidation and dive right in. In order to repay Steve for his thorough tutorial, the girls start to meddle, because if they can see one thing, it’s that Steve loves a good self-sabotage. Everyone’s a little concerned over the opinions of others and seeking praise and reassurance in all the wrong places, so grab a cozy blanket, be a good girl and enjoy this chapter of Get Off.

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex paraphernalia, dildos of all variety, sexual innuendo aplenty, eating pussy and explicit descriptions of said act, dirty talk and praise kink, allusions to jerking off.

“I swear to Christ. ROB! I know you have it!” Steve shouts out as he’s pacing through the apartment corridor looking everywhere but nowhere all at once. The pacing was more of a nervous habit, looking like a mother who is trying to walk off her frustration before she loses her cool on her lovely, doe eyed child after they broke the expensive family vase. Speaking from experience as the boy who knocked over said vase…he’s probably picked up a few mannerisms from his mother, now that he thinks about it. Back when she had time for him. He shakes his head in annoyance - at Robin and his childhood - hands flailing in the air above his head “You gotta fuckin stay out of my closet!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Steve.” Her head pops out of the bathroom, looking down the hall at her friend who is zipping between his room and hers.

“You still have BOXES in there Robin. BOXES. We’ve lived here six months. SIX. We’ve gone through an entire season. It’s fall now. Please for the love of God, unpack your things. How do you find anything in there?”

“I know where my things are, thank you very much. I just happen to enjoy some of the things from your closet, so sue me.”

Steve is exasperated with his friend. He has been dealing with Robin encouraging him to spend every last extra dollar he has after bills, beers at Benny’s and whatever else they do to fill their time to buy new clothing because his “style is like a billboard asking for abstinence in this city,” yet she is sticking her nose in there every other day stealing pieces of clothing he’s had for years. “One man’s trash is another lesbian’s treasure” she tells him every time he bitches about the double standard.

“I fuckin told you. Hands off the yellow sweater. Off limits. That and this jacket….they’re NOT getting traded in. They are not fair game. Got it?” he’s glaring at her, one hand on his hip, the other holding up a steely gray Members Only jacket she still can’t believe hasn’t been ruined from all of the bullshit it’s been through back at home.

“Yeah yeah, It’s a great layering piece, can you even blame me? How do you even still have that thing, anyway? Like, how wasn’t it ruined after Billy clocked you right in the nose?”

“ROBIN. SHUT UP!” he shouts, storming off to his room to get ready for their shift.

“Love you too, Dingus!”

Robin finishes readying herself for their afternoon at work, stepping out of the bathroom after perfectly smudging her imperfect eye pencil and adding a red lip that rivals the auburn in her hair. Fiery undertones just like the girl. Her lips, her hair, her personality - they all match her new red Doc Martin boots that she’s really just awful complaining about. She heard all about it - how hard it was to break those fuckers in. Got some tips from the Queens at The Rainbow Room that she’s gone back to now for shows numerous times since that first night. Alex asked her upwards of 10 times if she was sure she wanted them and if she was ready for the commitment to breaking them in so they don’t lay dead like a fashion sacrifice at the back of her closet. Told Steve all about how she was going to push through and how it couldn’t be that bad.

Well…it was. It was that bad - and Robin is not built to stick it out. She’s not formulated to power through. The problem is, she wants to wear them. Needs to wear them. They look good. So she settles on the only thing she’s ever been able to do to distract her from her pain (emotional and physical) and that’s: Never shut up and complain about it non-stop but only to Steve and take her entire bad mood out on Steve. Needless to say…Steve is tired.

Steve is in the kitchen, two brown bags perched on the counter top. “Apple or banana Robbie?” he asks, holding up one of each in the air. “Banana. Definitely.” she smirks, as he tosses it in the bag, labeled with scrawling chicken scratch Robin along the front in pen. She leans against the counter as he wraps up two sandwiches, tosses in some snacks and folds over the bag before handing it to her.

“Thanks mom.”

Steve doesn’t grace her with a response. He just rolls his eyes as he tosses on his jacket and grabs his keys. “Let’s go, loser. And don’t drag your feet in those boots. Pick them up and fuckin walk. We got a shift to get to.”

The lock clanks as Steve opens up the front door and clicks on the neon sign in the window to designate the shop is open for business. Murray handed Steve the keys last week before he headed off to Las Vegas for an annual Adult Industry Product Conference. Showed Steve the brochure for Sensual Revolution '93 and told him "Maybe I'll bring ya along next year, big boy. Just take care of my baby while I'm gone and you never know! I might just upgrade you from Sex Shop Employee to Sex Shop Supervisor."

Not that Steve had aspirations to move up in the world of The Hideout and make a career out of it, but if Steve could tide off his father a little longer by being able to tell him that he's a Retail Supervisor that might buy him a little more time without hearing about how bullshit his work is.

"We're open Rob! I'm gonna go restock the shelves in the back."

"Yeah buddy. I got the register! I still can't believe that massive rush on massage oils last week. I still wanna know what sparked that… " she trails off.

Everything seems fine for the rest of the morning until the loud hiss of a massive delivery truck arrives out front, blocking up the narrow lanes of the city streets, horns honking and shouts out the passenger side windows starting immediately. Robin perks up, setting all four legs of her wooden stool back on the ground.

“Uh, Dingus? Are we expecting a delivery?”

“No…what are you talking about Robin?” Steve shouts from his spot, crouched down in the back stocking the lower shelves. He hears the bell ding, and just as he stands up to peer out and what’s going on he sees the delivery hat of a man at the counter and the expansive vista of the biggest delivery truck he’s ever seen show up at the shop covering every inch of space their front windows have to offer.

Robin's eyes widen as she reads the delivery slip, "Urgent: Assorted dildos for The Hideout."

She bellows out a laugh, not once looking up from the packing slip she still holds in her hands. “Steve. The man says you need to sign for these.”

“What the fuck is it Rob?” And with that, she silently extends the paper out to her friend. He snatches it quickly as she holds back her chuckling, rumbles leaving her nose that emanates in the back of her throat. His eyes scan the form until he gets to the bottom, reading the slip he does a double take. with an unexpected, jaw-dropping inventory of various dildos, more than they could ever imagine.

“I’m not…I can’t sign for this! He didn’t say a goddamn thing about any delivery let alone this! It can’t be right. Nope…. I…no.”

Steve’s still rambling a bit as he walks out the front door to the truck, along with the driver. Robin’s lips are curled up in a permanent smile as she chomps on her doublemint gum, getting the worlds biggest kick out of watching Steve pacing back and forth on the concrete, hands alternating between flailing in the air and resting on his hips in a stance that looks both like dominance and defeat all wrapped into one.

Before long, Steve comes barreling through the front door, pushed open by force with both hands, finding them raised up by his ears in surrender and shaking his head in irritation. “They’re bringing them in Rob. It’s 10 pallets. 10 PALLETS OF DILDOS. I don’t even know where we’re gonna stick all these dicks. Jesus.”

“TEN? What the fuck? What happened?”

“Apparently Murray’s having a grand old time in Vegas. Did a little bulk ordering at the conference. Got them shipped direct and told the company Harrington’s got em.” his face scrunches up as he mocks Murray’s intonations.

“No…it’s fine. It’s cool. We’ve got it. We’ll figure it out.”

“Steve…for two people who have never handled that much dick in their entire lives, I’m a little skeptical.”

“No, no…if Murray were here…what stupid shit would he have us doing?”

And with that, Steve sets off. He immediately figures that Murray would be blasting off directions for him to unload the goods, so after ripping open the wrapping of the pallets himself…he instead naturally gives that job to Robin. Figuring Murray wants to offload the old inventory, Steve gets some sale information ready and decides to mark down everything on the floor - sure as shit that Murray got some new and improved models, fancier faux cocks, better colors, better…whatever bells and whistles. He doesn’t care really…he just needs to make room.

After running off a huge stack of flyers on the copier in Murray’s office, he tells Robin he’s heading out. With a groan from the girl that echoed in the storeroom, he promised he’d return with a fresh cup of coffee and her favorite muffin if she’d just shut the fuck up about it. “But Steeeve” she groans “I can’t look at any more of these. Look at this one! It’s an actual monster cock. It’s got tentacles!”

“Aw, ew, gross.” his nose scrunches up and he turns on the balls of his feet, the new black chucks already fading a bit since they’re suddenly all he’s wearing - the red swoosh of his Nike Cortez’ tucked back a little further in his closet than they’d ever have been before. He jogs out the front door, stack of thin copy papers tucked as best he can under his arms,

It’s a warm fall day today, sun heating up the streets in the warmth of the afternoon, as he maneuvers the busy city sidewalks, tails of his unbuttoned shirt trailing behind him, a well-worn black band t-shirt he picked up from the Goodwill downtown tucked into his denim. He almost didn’t pay any mind to the shirt as he scoured for his size in the bin laid out before him, but threw it on top of his pile anyway after reading the band scrawled across the front - Pearl Jam.

Steve’s on a mission. He’s trying to get down the street to some of their notorious partners so he can tack up a flyer on their community board, or leave a stack of them at their bar or with the bouncer. Anywhere he knows won’t turn up their nose at a rudimentary flyer boasting discounted dildos. He makes a mental note to insist that Hopper and Joyce leave some on the bar at Benny’s even though he knows at least Hopper will bitch about it nonstop. He knows Joyce’ll look at him like a doting mama before scowling at her counterpart and telling the boy Whatever you need, honey.

He doesn’t see you until you’re right on top of him, and to be fair, you didn’t see him either. So when your chests connect in a thump and everything the both of you are carrying falls to the gritty sidewalk, both of your first instincts are to bitch about it. “What the fuck is your problem man, y’wanna watch where you’re going next time?” you scowl.

Before he could even get the snarky words out of his mouth, he says your name and you snapped out of it in an instant. “Oh God, Steve. It’s you! Sorry, I…I’m just in a fuckin’ mood today. I’m knee deep in midterms and I really just don’t want to read another essay about family dynamics and how my dads expectations really fucked me up - y’know?”

“Yeah, oh I know. I mean, not about the grading essays thing, but…about the dads expectations fucking you up. That part I can relate to. Not the smartie pants stuff.”

“Ok, well…” Your eyes roam up and down his face, seeing how scatterbrained he looks, now crumpled wads of paper crushed up against his chest. “We’ll unpack that little tidbit another time, then. Haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Maybe some coffee again? That shop by your place was nice last time we met up. Good music spinning, so - y’know they got me hooked.”

Steve nods in agreement. After that night in the cab, you’ve seen eachother a few times. Nothing crazy, but intentionally. First you met up at the record store so you could show him some other albums he might like. The next time, you went back to the ice cream place from that ill-fated date night because for some reason, ever since then, you’ve been jonesing for a scoop of that peanut butter swirl ice cream and ended up sitting for two hours just talking.

The last time, he invited you to their favorite coffee shop, sat at a table just adjacent to where Robin and Alex sat, scooping the foam off of one anothers cappuccinos and lattes with their fingers, ankles tangled together under the table, clearly whispering and staring at the pair of them and doing an awful job of keeping their voices low as they spend the whole time making conjecture about what exactly is going on here with the two of them.

Robin was nice, she seemed quirky and fun and Alex seemed like some of the angsty, take-on-too-much-responsibility type girls trying to stand out in the crowd at the University you’re teaching at - which basically means you know exactly how to socialize with her if need be. But since then, you’ve been so wrapped up in the start of your semester, taking on a bigger courseload than normal and getting wrapped right up in the happenings of the fall semester to keep up with anything but teaching and grading.

Steve finally talks after a few seconds “Yeah, it’s really…been awhile. Thought you forgot about me.”

“No. No! Well…you haven’t forgotten about me huh?” Your eyes flick down to his shirt, the typography finally catches your eye, and you point to it with a smirk.

“What do you have here, anyway?” You snatch one of the fliers off the ground as the autumn breeze starts to swirl it around at your feet.

“It’s nothing! No…well. Our boss got a huge shipment in - like, HUGE and we have to make room…..on the floor. So….I’m running a sale.”

“Oh hoh hoh, this is great. Is Robin working? I kinda need a break. Show me this shop of yours? Please? I gotta see the merchandise.”

He is absolutely dreading this. He knows he can’t say no to you. He’s been doing great those few times you hung out together, but he can’t deny that just thinking about you makes him sweat, and he has continued to - over and over and over again - indulge himself to thoughts of your voice, your face, your body as he loses himself in the tense grip of his fist. So you have no idea how much of a hold you have on the guy. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that you have him wrapped around your little finger. And he’s utterly embarrassed, because he knows it. Stupid Steve getting obsessed with another girl again. Convincing himself he’s in love. Yeah…

The pair of you walk through the door of the shop not long after that. The sounds of voices from the back room ring out, cackling laughter that is irrefutably Robin echoing through the store. Steve leads you back behind the curtain to see Alex sitting, entirely amused watching Robin lose her cool at every dildo she pulls from the box. Robin is there, sitting cross-legged, holding up a gigantic transparent pink dildo, wobbling in the air, her cheeks almost the same color as the jiggling member. “People fit THIS up there? Who LIKES that? I’ll…Look at this thing!”

You immediately burst out in laughter and Robin looks up, beaming when she sees you. Eyes darting back and forth between you and Steve. “It’s not as bad as you think, Robin.” you say. Entirely too seriously, and Steve almost gives himself whiplash looking at you as you shrug it off and move closer to inspect the wares. “Ran into Steve on the street, saw you guys were having a sale and I HAD to see all the fuss.”

“Steve…lotsa stuffin’ the muffin gonna be going on after we sell those bad boys.”

A litany of curses rolls off of Steve's tongue in response as he yells something about setting up a sale display in the front.

They all follow Steve out to the floor as he works up the display space. Robin slides over next to him and starts to help, setting a box filled to the brim, bulbous heads sticking out over the edge. She leans over into his shoulder so she can whisper “Stevie…your face is way too serious right now. The girl you like is here while you’re tossing around fake dicks. You gotta smile about it or…lighten up or something. She’s not gonna like your sourpuss face. I think I’m the only one that puts up with that”

“Rob…she's not.. I don’t - '' but he’s cut off by the whirr and buzz of a pile of vibrating dildos Robin has accidentally activated. Moving and bouncing while making an incredible racket against the glass top of the case, the dildos start toppling over the ones Steve has meticulously stacked already and buzzing right off the side of the case and onto the floor. The vibrating dildos are chaotically bouncing and toppling everywhere. “Shut up, you two!” Robin yells back at you and Alex sitting curled up in the seating area, faces red with laughter.

Just then, a group of the shop's regular customers start trickling in flyers in hand, intrigued by the commotion. Robin, overwhelmed with the chaotic situation she herself unfurled, immediately goes to assist the customers, leaving Steve behind to deal with the cacophony of mechanical penises. To distract from the mess, Robin begins a rambling speech about the history and uses of various dildos, sharing more information than anyone asked for and with surprising accuracy and detail. The three of you all look on in amazement and curiosity as Robin suddenly transforms from a bumbling, blushing sexual idiot to this dildo encyclopedia in no time.

“Hey! Ladies…watch this!” Steve picks up a few of the dildos and starts juggling them in the middle of the store with particular ease. In a rare moment where Steve shakes off the uptight strings that tie him up and hold him down, his effort to make things a bit more lighthearted, pay off.

Everyone’s hollering and smiling and laughing, however, his juggling skills are far from perfect. After a good run, he misses one - a big sparkly silicone thing that starts bouncing wildly across the counter and lands with a smack and a slap in front of the customer at the register. Robin and the customer look down at it, mouths open in disbelief.

Steve’s bracing himself to get yelled at by one or both of them, but instead both blow out a laugh they were holding back before the whole store erupts into amused giggling and full on laughing fits.

After the shop closes that afternoon, the four of you find yourself walking down the sidewalks, sky overcast with the October chill that creeps in at sunset to steal away the warmth and glow of the day. Standing in front of a bowling alley tucked away on a side street, Alex cocks her eyebrows at the others and says “How about we have some more fun?”

Knees knocking together as you and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder tying your ratty, overworn bowling shoes onto your feet, Robin and Alex return with drinks from the bar and plop down next to you. “Drinks on me tonight, assholes.” Robin proclaims happily - that is until Steve quips back “Good, you owed me for your stupid dead keychain pet again anyway.”

Narrowing her eyes at Steve’s, she ignores his commentary and quickly moves on. “Alright, two on two. Let’s see how bad this is gonna go!” She claps her hands and rubs them together in preparation.

“Guess it’s you and me, huh?” You bump shoulders with Steve, “I promise, I’m not that bad, so maybe we have a shot.”

Over the next hour the group is rolling with fits of giggles and laughter after dropped bowling balls and rolls down the gutter and baskets full of bar popcorn, kernels falling at their feet as they talk.

On one side, Robin’s begging for bumpers after four in a row has Alex taunting her to no end. Beers are refilled while Alex tugs on Robin’s belt loops to maneuver around her, palm running over the sliver of exposed skin on her back as she leans down to grab her ball. Cheers are shouted while Robin celebrates a Spare with a chaste kiss to the apple of Alex’s cheek. Comfortable silences are filled with her nervously picking at the strings jutting out on the frayed knee of Alex’s pants and filling the void by picking at the cuticles of her nails instead when Alex gets up to take her turn.

On the other side, Steve has bumped into you twice. Once causing your ball to fall out of your hands and barely missing your feet. He’s gotten his arm tangled in his open flannel shirt as he tosses the ball, so he takes it off and hangs it over the back of the chair where you’re sitting, the sides of his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he moves away and eyes darting nervously when he hears a tiny scoff coming from Alex, whose eyes are fixated on him with amusement. You and Steve are faring well and scoring better than your counterparts, but every time you go to celebrate, the interaction falls flat - one going in for a hug while the other sticks two hands up for a high five, the next time going to the high five while the other jabs their fist in the air awkwardly.

Alex slinks over towards Robin and whispers, “This…is fuckin painful.”

Over the crack of falling pins and music on the jukebox, Alex shouts over to you, “So how exactly do you know Steve?”

“Oh, yeah…honestly, we just ran into each other a few times. All very random really. Saw him first at the record store when he was getting his first vinyls. I was there picking up my new copy of the Pearl Jam one…I guess I kind of made the suggestion he try it out himself.”

Robin flits her eyes from Steve to you, now wholly making the connection on why Steve’s probably constantly playing "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" late at night. Steve sees her gears turning and he tries to signal for her to drop it, but in true Robin fashion….she won't.

“So wait, that’s how you met her?” she jabs her thumb in your direction while shouting at Steve.

“W-well, yeah I guess technically. I didn’t really even know your name until the cab thing like…a month later.” he says casually, directed at you even though it was Robin who asked the question.

Looking at Robin’s blank stare, you fill in the blanks for her when Steve doesn’t continue. “Yeah. Well…Steve kind of knight-in-shining-armored me from a bad date one night. I recognized him from our run ins, but we still didn’t actually know each other at all, but he caught me at the tail end of probably the absolute worst date of the year. Dude made me pay for everything and left me to find a cab myself and I was just a fuckin mess standing there on the sidewalk trying to count my change after paying for dinner.”

“Oh, yes…Stevie loves to be the hero. Dontcha?” Robin pokes at his shoulder.

“Well yeah, he really was. I definitely didn’t have enough cash for the cab so we shared one and had our first proper conversation, bitched about how awful first dates are - or dating in general, right? God it’s been the worst.” your words trail off as your brain is clearly rolodexing through all of the failures and wasted nights you’ve collected.

Smiling at Steve as you say it, “We just kinda keep running into one another, so we’re just embracing it!” Steve nods in agreement, tight lipped smile pulling up on the left side, oddly quiet as he listens to you recount how you’ve found yourself here in his circle.

“Hmm…cute.” Robin says, a little over exaggerated, as she unties the frayed shoelaces of her bowling shoes and walks up to the counter to return them.

At the counter, Robin stands leaned over while Alex slips her hand in the back pocket of her wide leg denim. You and your teammate for the evening fall in line next to one another behind them, shoulder to shoulder again, looking over at one another, waiting to see who will talk first.

“We really whooped their ass, didn’t we?”

“Thanks for having me around today.”

You both spill out at the same time. Both agreeing with a nod and a smile, eyes locked together just as Alex and Robin turn around to face you and move out of your way. “You’re up, Romeo.” She winks as she reaches out to grab Alex’s outstretched hand and head towards the door. Steve watches as they tumble out of the entrance and the door closes behind them, the pair illuminated through the glass by the lights on the city street as his friend leans in to kiss her girlfriend, like some perfectly lit scene out of a movie.

This all started because Steve tied the stem of the cherry from his Old Fashioned and set it casually next to his coaster in the bar. Gasps of "How didn't I know you could do that?" from Robin.

“Wow. Wow. Honestly. Who knew Steve was such a Cunnilinguist over here? Fluent in Mumbling in the Moss.” Robin’s teasing, but her jaw is just about on the bar and she’s fighting back the impressed look she has on her face. “Let me get my notebook out. I gotta take notes…please, please don’t stop on account of me. Continue….” Robin gestures at Steve in a bow like he’s a fuckin member of the Royal Court of Pussyeaters, taunting him with wide sarcastic eyes and a glint of actual curiosity he can clock from a mile away.

“Robin, YOU have even said it yourself.”

“Oh yes, how could I ever forget the sounds Melissa from upstairs made on our first weekend here? Right. Sorry. Blocked that out of my memory bank shortly after it happened.”

The thing about Robin is, this city has made her feral for new things and new information. Probably something to do with the fact that she can actually live like she wants to more openly, that there’s less judgment or even a community. Maybe it's a lot to do with the fact that the girl who used to cringe at the word boobies is hawking condoms, crotchless panties and sex toys for a living and learning about her sexuality in real-time, but Robin has turned into a sexual sponge. She’s shy about something until she’s not. Zero to sixty in ten seconds flat. She sees it once, asks a few curious and direct questions and suddenly she’s ready to rock and roll.

Over the past few months, Steve has watched her boundaries literally crumble at her feet. The first time it happened, early in the summer when they first got the job, he found himself sweeping the same spot in the front of the store for twenty minutes straight. He was completely distracted when Robin went on and on extremely enthusiastically about Ben Wa balls to a customer.

At first he was lingering because the girl was pretty - shiny hair grazing the tops of her shoulders, sunkissed and peeking out of her tank top, glittering gems dangling from her ears. He was admiring the girl, until he heard Robin talking about those balls like she knew what she was doing. He hadn’t thought about those since he had that stupid sandwich shop slip up, but apparently since then, Robin has become a goddamn connoisseur. He almost dropped the broom when she gave the girl some of her favorite personal tips to enjoy them as she checked her out.

Since then, Steve can’t even count on one hand how many times he’s had to hear Robin talking people’s ears off about fuckin Ben Wa balls. She’s like a Ben Wa sales person every night at the bar, yapping anyone’s ear off about them, talking about no less casually than like it’s talking about how you take your coffee. Just rambling on about how if you slip them in before your date, it pays off at the end of the night, or how if you add a little vibration they go wild. If she didn’t already work at a Sex Shop, he’d tell her to get a job at one with how she’s acting. Steve’s no prude, God no… but he doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to his Robin talking about what she sticks up her vagina like that.

So now, here they all sit, at the corner of the bar at Benny’s, and she’s trying so hard not to look like she’s desperate for a lesson, but Steve knows. He knows she’s trying so hard to get information. So she can deliver. She won't ever do something unless she's sure she'll be good at it. She won’t say it out loud, but she wants to return the favor and she’s terrified she’s gonna do it wrong or be awful at it. He knows all of this just by looking at her body language and the look in her eyes. And shit, it makes him cringe thinking about it, but when Hopper leans over the bar and says “I don’t think he’s really that good if he’s not gonna spill the beans? Pretty face like that has probably never been sat on in his life.” he’s all in. He’s not one to back down from a challenge. Stubborn as ever.

“Well…You’re not exactly wrong about that. Not for nothing, though…I tried. I swear. Hawkins, Indiana is not filled with adventurous girls that are willing to do that.”

“Wait…who did you ask to sit on your face, Harrington? Do I even wanna know?”

“Don’t worry about it Robbie.” He waves her off. “It doesn’t matter anyway. No one took the bait so I stopped asking. Plus, most of those girls didn’t even want me to do any of it in the first place - I mean, after some convincing a few of them changed their opinion afterwards but still...”

“So…wait. You didn’t spend all your years as King Steve feasting on clams? That makes no sense? How can you even self-proclaim you’re soooo great at it if you don’t have that much practice?”

“First of all, I did just fine thanks, and secondly it’s not about practice, Rob. I’m a fuckin natural” Steve grins wide like a cheshire cat around the rim of his glass as he throws back a sip, knowing his comment will send her into a tizzy.

“Oh you’re just disgusting Steve Harrington. So fucking smug about everything.” As she rambles on, Steve lets her go, barely noticing that he’s not paying any mind to her, and he asks Joyce if he can have the jar of cherries behind the bar. Joyce smiles at him and winks, before sliding the glass container down the bar to him, catching it in his hand and wiggling it in Robin’s face.

“You wanna learn from the best, Buckley?”

He hands his friend a cherry and asks her to tie the stem and the first one took her 18 minutes. She’s awful at multitasking, so while he’s trying to fill the time with tips - about how she shouldn’t dive right in. “You gotta play around a little. Show the girls some attention, work your way up her thighs… don’t just stick your face in it. Got it?” She doesn’t. She’s got her brows furrowed and one eye squinted shut as she’s exaggeratedly moving the cherry stem around her mouth by jabbing her tongue every which way.

He rolls his eyes and holds his hand out in front of her mouth and tells her to spit it out, like a small child who got in the candy bowl and has to give up her treat after being scolded. The next hour goes by with Steve trying so hard to be a patient teacher.

He starts from the beginning, making sure she doesn’t skip over his first lesson: Approach but do not enter. He tells her about how no matter how bad she wants to, she can not under any circumstances make full and direct contact. "If you use your tongue like you just did with that fuckin cherry stem you're gonna scare her, okay Jabby"

In an almost reverent and detailed narrative he continues on telling tales of kisses up ankles and legs and warm breaths against their entrance. Teasing and touching and tounging through wet panties. Featherlight touches and sucking purple marks along the juncture of thighs. At this point, Hopper is leaned over his bar looking on like a little kid hearing about knights and dragons in a bedtime story. He needs a napkin to wipe up his drool after listening to the pussy poetry coming off of Steve Harrington’s lips.

Steve dangles out Cherry #2 for Robin to snag with her lips before moving on to his second lesson: Start slow. Robin has her mouth open catching flies, cherry stem just resting between her teeth as Steve goes on to explain how she should kitten lick just around everything she has to offer, then in. Gentle strokes exploring what’s there, tongue flat, loose, gentle. Circling the clit, running it along all of the places in between. “Opening up the flower,” he says. Bonus points if you make noise while you do it, tell her she looks pretty he says and Robin nods in understanding.

Palm extended again, Steve nods as the stem falls into it, telling Robin “Nice. You’re getting there. This’ll be important soon.”

Cherry #3. Take a break. He looks her dead in the eyes when he says “You gotta take a break here, Robbie. Don’t do that thing you do about every other thing in the world. Where you’re all in and super focused and too excited and you forget the steps. BACK OFF. Do the thigh thing again, just less is more for a minute here….You hear me? Now gimme that stem.”

Robin pulls the stem out of her mouth, holding it up to her eyeline and sees her knot is tighter this time and she's done it quicker. Much quicker than before. She grins “Got it! Got it! Am I doing good?”

Steve smiles at her, and pops a cherry into his mouth, handing one off to his friend and grinning like a devil as he hands one to Hopper, too. Both take the offering, despite Hopper acting way too cool about it, he plays along. Cherry #4. Dive in. Swirl, slide and suck. Alternate until you figure out what works for her. Listen for the sounds, the breaths. Pick up speed. "Lay that tongue flat again and lick her up from back to front, because she's gonna taste like heaven." Robin nods as he tells her to add a finger or two if she wants it but keep playing with that clit, rolling and rubbing and maybe even some flicking just like that cherry stem.

All three of them pull their stems out, candied cherries already warm in Robin and Hoppers bellies so they could focus on the stem. Steve, however, pulls out his stem to show off the tight knot and sticks out his tongue with the cherry still there, untouched and carefully maneuvered out of the way of the action the whole time. He makes a show of swirling around the cherry, undulating his tongue with a smirk turned up on the corner of his lips before popping the red orb between his teeth and crushing it with a grin.

“Okay, fine. You sound like you know what you’re doing Harrington…that…yeah…thanks for that.” Hopper says as he walks away, turning his stem between his fingers, a little too deep in thought and mulling over Steve’s words as he serves up the other patrons of the bar.

Stirring the ice of her now empty glass, she eyes her friend. Still processing that he gave her such a detailed lesson so she can effectively eat out her girlfriend for the first time, not to mention the fact that listening to Steve Harrington talk about worshiping a woman like that kinda turned her on, it takes her a minute to finally break her silence.

She looks away from Steve before starting in on one of her tried and true rambles. “I gotta repay you for that weirdly effective tutorial. Just maybe one nugget of information. I mean, I may have never been the giver, but consider me a receiver? A tight end? I dunno I was trying to give you a sports analogy because you’re a jock. Were a jock…or whatever. Anyway. Girls…they don’t agree to sit on your face, man, and it's not because they don’t want it. They want it. It’s just, like, REALLY embarrassing.”

Steve looks at her confused. “What do you mean embarrassing?”

“Like, 100% of us think we’re too big or not good enough. And being like that is a little intimidating. Even my skinny ass thinks I’ll crush a girl if I do it. “

“Too big? - oh.” It takes some time for Steve to understand, never having to deal with any type of insecurity like that ever before it never even crossed his mind that it has anything to do with themselves or their bodies. He always thought they just thought he was a weirdo for asking and making things complicated. He assumed they didn’t have time for any theatrics and just wanted to come and maybe sign up for a second date.

Robin sees the wheels turning and the gears grinding in his head, and she knows this means he understands but is too engrossed in his analysis of the actual injustice of it all to speak words. “So, maybe approach it differently? Or find a chick who is just so fuckin confident she doesn’t give a fuck. But let me tell you one thing…it pains me to say this. Truly it does, but your nose…is MADE for it.”

“My nose?” his face contorts in a confused glare she knows all too well.

“Oh baby, yeah…that nose is made for pushing a clit around.”

“ROBIN!” Steve pushes his chair back, feet squeaking along the roughed up floor of the bar, as he walks over to the jukebox and leans over it, grumbling yet again about how she always takes it one step too far.

“You’ll thank me one day, handsome! You’re not the only one that has information to share, you know?”

Steve has never seen Robin like this before. He’s not sure what to do with the information his eyes are transmitting to his brain in this moment, so he just stands there unmoving. “Uh hello? Dingus? What’s the deal?”

Robin has exited her room in those stupid fucking red boots that she now is insisting are comfortable and fully broken in, but the fishnet stockings that follow her skin up her legs are not the first thing that make Steve do a double take. A white baby t-shirt sits under the spaghetti straps of a lacey, silky black slip dress, a cut up to the thigh that she may have put there herself. A chunky, more masculine belt looped around her waist - wait…is that from his closet, he thinks to himself.

“Please stop looking at me like I’m an idiot. I look dumb, don’t I? Of course I do. I gotta change.”

The only other time Robin has found herself in anything other than pants was that one goddamn time Nancy Wheeler dressed her up like a China Doll to trick that fancy psychiatrist guy, and that’s a memory she’s tried hard to suppress.But there are no frilly socks and poofy white collars on this dress. No stuffy cardigan. And even though she never thought of herself as particularly feminine, today for the first time in her life she feels it.

“No! No Robbie, you look … great. I - I’ve just never seen you in like…anything like that. It’s…super fuckin’ cool okay? Like magazine cool. Like not friends with Steve Harrington cool.” he shakes his head as he throws some popcorn into his mouth. “Alex is gonna fuckin’ lose it. You gonna remember what I taught you at Benny’s? Tonight is your night, my friend, because she will not say no to you in that. For sure.”

“You think I’m gonna dine on the Adult Happy Meal tonight?” She says in a sly, teasing tone, knowing just her sexual euphemism will get Steve rolling his eyes and irritated with her in no time.

“Y’know what, I was trying to pump you up. Tell you you did good…but fine. Be that way.”

And she hated, just hated to admit it, but Steve was right. Alex loved it. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Robin’s thighs all night. Her fingers lingered at Robin’s waist and along that belt anytime she was within reach and Robin’s skin tingled with anticipation. She felt possessed by Alex. On a short leash. And as the music thumped in her chest, she felt the dull aching throb building between her thighs at the same time.

So it was no surprise when the two of them pummeled through Alex’s studio apartment door backwards, not taking their lips of one another with enough time to pay any attention to where they were going or what they were running into. Robin’s were slick with spit, cherry gloss and the smudges of the deep plum lipstick rubbed right off of Alex’s own plump lips.

“This..” Alex picks at the straps of Robin’s slip dress. “This is nice.” She almost growls out, finger hooked under the thin piece of fabric, tugging Robin with her until they hit the edge of the bed.

“I don’t think I told you how hot you looked tonight. It’s fuckin bananas.” Alex’s lips pepper kisses up the column of Robin’s neck leaving streaks of whatever pigment remained on her lips rubbed off like a trail of smoke, fanning the fire deep within both of them.

Alex’s nose is pressed up and into Robin’s temple, lips parted and breathy and tickling her ear. Tits smushed and pressed together the closest they could possibly be and Alex’s hand wastes no time slithering right into that opening left there by the makeshift slit cut into the side of the satin, up along her pelvis tugging the pesky fishnets out of the way and diving right back down into the hot wetness pooling in Robins’ underwear.

“Oh, honey. Robin…so wet already?” Her fingers smooth back and front again, swirling around Robin’s clit and sliding right inside on the backswing. Robin chokes out a breathy moan, pouty lips gaping open, eyes rolling back and long eyelashes fluttering in the air like the wings of a butterfly. Alex slides those fingers back and forth, back and forth until Robin looks back at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her away just enough to look into her eyes. Alex doesn’t let up her motions, two fingers loudly moving through everything Robin is giving her.

Robin reaches down towards the bed and takes Alex by surprise when she picks up one of her fluffy white pillows and pummels it at Alex’s head. “Ow, what the fuck!” Alex shouts. She looks at Robin, corners of her lips turning up into a mischievous smile, fingers curling up into the sky as she shrugs her shoulders teasingly. Alex’s face melts quickly into one of laughter - but only temporarily before she reaches for her own pillow and wails on Robin, smacking her right in the shoulder.

Pillows are flying, both girls are laughing so much their tummies are starting to hurt. Fluff and feathers from the pillows are starting to puff out and flutter through the air. Robin lands a particularly good blow on Alex’s upper body that has her falling backwards into the bed laughing, and it’s in this moment Robin finds herself giggling, perched right on top of her girlfriend’s body.

She wanted this to happen. Really she did. That was the point. She’s come a long way but Robin is still too chickenshit to ask for what she wants in bed. She’s definitely too chickenshit to take charge. So as she lays here, leaning over Alex, pillows around them, blankets and comforters scrunched up along their sides in a sea of white linen, Robin leans down and connects her lips to Alex’s in the most possessive kiss she knows how to muster up. She spent all night feeling like she was on Alex’s leash, but for fucks sake, she wants to take a little too.

She’s always a little frantic, but this? She’s tugging Alex’s shirt out from where it’s tucked into the pleated trousers hanging low on her hips tonight faster than she can blink. Her bumbling fingers are trying to find the confidence to be smooth about pushing her shirt up and up and up, but instead it’s just hurriedly shoved up far enough for Robin to get a little bit of access to her breasts. She slows down a bit just enough to savor how her fingers slide under the band of Alex’s bralette and brush over both of her nipples at the same time.

God, Robin is losing her mind and she’s quickly going to get in her head if she doesn’t follow through. She knows that the second she lets her intrusive thoughts spiral, she’s going to be too worried about doing it wrong, or not being good enough that she’ll just run back home to Steve like a kicked puppy. So she takes a big breath - one that could be confused with someone diving down to the bottom of a summer swimming pool. Alex’s head pops up off the bed and is momentarily confused, but she falls right back into the mountain of pillows as she feels Robin’s hands extend, pressing her tits up and back into the mattress just as Robin’s nose starts to trail down, down towards her belly button.

Kissing the softness of her girl's tummy, Robin tries hard to remember that this is not a test, before she keeps mouthing at the dough of her hips, dragging the waistband of her pants further and further down. Alex’s hipbone, popping out just for a peek, gets a small kiss from Robin before she swoops her finger down and into her trousers following the seam of her thighs.

“Rob…Robin…what are you - oh fuck!” She cries out as she feels Robin’s blunt fingernails run up through her slit and back up, starting to fumble with the button. “Robin, what are you doing?”

Alex has felt great during this relationship, yeah she’s more of the giver, but there’s been plenty of grinding and sucking on nipples and self pleasure that have brought her to climax while the two of them have fooled around on couches and over the paper thin walls in their apartment as Steve sleeps next door. She’s been patient and attentive to Robin, knowing she’s still learning and exploring and not expecting her to do more than she’s comfortable with. But tonight she’s getting the distinct idea that Robin wants something a little different.

“Rob, you don’t have to …just…lemme take care of it”

“NO. Alex. Stop it. I…I wanna try something. Okay? Please?”

“Oh-okay, sure. But just stop if it’s too much for you. I promise, I don’t need you to fingerfuck me tonight if you don’t really wanna go there yet.” Alex is talking while Robin ignores her, working the pants loose and starting to wiggle them down and over her wide and pretty hips.

“Alex. Please. Shut up. I’m usually the one talking too much, but this time it’s you.” She connects her lips to whatever places she can reach on her stomach before looking back up at Alex, eyes wide and big and doe-like “And …I don’t want ot finger fuck you.”

With absolutely no notice after that, Robin’s head ducks down and quickly finds itself between Alex’s thighs, shoving the pants legs down as far as she can go while she runs her nose up along the edge of Alex’s deep purple panties. She hums loud enough for Alex to hear her and that alone has Alex’s eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.

Robin starts with small nips and licks along the inside of Alex’s thighs and remembers specifically that a few good, deep licks over the panties might be a nice place to go next. It’s safe for her underneath a layer of protection - mostly for her ego. It’s like the mental boundary she has still standing before she takes her first real lick. But with a deep breath and a smile she quite literally can’t hold back, Robin flattens her tongue and runs it right up the center of Alex’s panties, flicking her tongue when she gets right where she knows her clit is hiding under that cotton.

Alex’s hands jolt towards the bedsheets at the unexpected fervor on Robin’s tongue and the girl keeps exploring all around the exposed skin before taking the front of her underwear on her tongue, wrapping her lips around it and sucking, lapping, drooling right where she knows that clit is hiding from her. Alex is moaning and groaning under Robin and the sound is music to her ears - a symphony of praises like Robin has never quite heard before. She wants more. Needs more.

Tugging down the sides of Alex’s underwear she rips them off and throws them on the floor behind her and stares down at what lays before her. Alex, bared to her, legs splayed out to each side. She can’t help but admire the pink shades of her lips and the perfect curls of the hair adorned there. She runs her fingers along the sides of her pelvis, tickling the pads of her fingers with the roughness of where her trimmed bush is growing in just a bit. Robin is pretty sure this is how a dog with a bone behaves, but she couldn’t care less.

Next, she does something that even surprises herself. Rolling her tongue through her mouth, she gathers a glob of spit and lets it fall right on top of Alex’s clit, holding the hood back as the coolness hits her bundle of nerves. Robin blows gently on the wet skin, a small thread of saliva still clinging to her cupid's bow and Alex can not tear her eyes away from what is happening between her legs.

Robin dips her head down and rolls her tongue, front to back, side to side before letting her lips wrap around her clit and suck. As she continues, flicking and flitting and moaning into Alex’s cunt, she lets her fingers wander up until she can feel the heat of her girlfriends arousal on her fingertips. She looks up at her and asks “Can I…can I put these in, too? Do you want more?”

“Jesus Christ, Robin” she gasps, “You’re trying to kill me right? Holy shit. Yes. I need more.”

Sliding her middle finger into her first, then second knuckle, just to test the waters, she’s quickly overcome with how soft and warm she feels in her hands. “Oh Alex, you feel so fuckin good.” She works that finger in further before sliding it out and adding in her ring finger, too. No resistance, only the slick sounds of Alex’s arousal and Robin's fingers working her up better than she knew was possible.

Thanking god she knows how to play a brass instrument, knowing damn well her fingers and her mouth know how to multitask and move in tandem, she starts thinking about this orchestra between her girlfriends legs. Moving those fingers, not letting up with the beat and tempo she set for herself, she bends down to connect her soft lips back on Alex’s, lapping around the place she feels her fingers slipping in and out, licking along the edge of where her lips end and Robin’s fingers begin. Feeling the plunging and sucking around them as her pussy clenches around Robin’s fingers.

“Ohhh fuck. Robin, goo-good girl, Rob. Feels so good.”

Robin feels her own pussy clench around absolutely nothing at Alex’s raise. Pulling out her fingers, Alex cries at the loss, but she quickly moans louder than Robin’s ever heard before as she replaces that emptiness with her tongue. Shoving it inside, curing upwards and soothing that ache with the warmth of her tongue. She remembers how she rolled and sucked on that cherry, and repeats those movements until she feels a wetness, a creaminess that makes her moan out loudly herself. The vibrations from Robin’s moaning are doubling down on the orgasm crashing through Alex’s body and with a yelp and a groan and a giggle, Robin has her head laying across Alex’s sweat slicked chest, staring up at her waiting. For approval? For literally anything.

“Jesus, Robin that was….that was some top shelf shit. Wh-what…how? I mean, I’m not complaining but I was not expecting that.”

“It was fuckin’ hot wasn’t it?” she muses with a laugh.

“Lord help me, I…think you owe some thanks to Steve for all that, actually” she says painfully through her teeth.

“No fuckin’ shit! My man!”

A scoff comes right out of Robin’s mouth, unable to hold it back.

“Maybe if he uses some of that magic pussy eating technique on whats-her-name she’ll be just as obsessed with him as he is with her.”

“RIGHT?”

The windows of the house are actually rattling, filled to the brim with young bodies living in downtown Chicago neighborhoods - friends and strangers alike. Robin and Steve stand outside waiting to enter, looking at Alex for the go-ahead. “I don’t really actually know the guys, it’s just….I mean it doesn’t fuckin matter. Look at this party.” she gestures up to the house, lights flashing from behind the curtains in the windows. “We just gotta wait another minute or two. I’m meeting someone else…”

“Someone else? Who else is coming?” Robin’s volume starts off loud and starts to fade into a smirk as she catches a glimpse of you approaching the group on the sidewalk.

“Hey guys! Thanks Alex, I’m so glad I ran into you earlier!”

You clock the look Robin flashes at Steve and you almost feel slightly unwelcome if it weren’t for Alex, grabbing you by the crook of your elbow and pulling you forward into the house party, the duo still trailing behind trying to process what exactly is going on and why.

Robin jogs up to Alex’s side as they take the steps of the house two by two as they approach the door and leans in “What are you doing? When did this happen?”

Once through the threshold of the house, the loud music and shouting voices muffled their conversation with ease. “Oh whatever… listen, I ran into her at the coffee shop. Said after she went there with Steve that one time, she liked their Cappuccino so she’s been going back ever since. It was my chance to invite her out…maybe give them a nudge. I swear, I owe the guy after all that lip service last night.”

“You’re trouble, you know that? He thinks I’m trouble…but…”

“Maybe we're trouble together. Let’s go.”

Alex grabs Robin’s hand and trots off to the back of the house in search of a few drinks, trying desperately to lose both of you behind them and force you into close proximity.

As planned, Steve can’t find the pair anywhere in a matter of seconds, searching over the heads and raised drinks of strangers on the living room, repurposed as a dance floor, it quickly becomes futile. In the loud atmosphere, The Rolling Stones Start Me Up blaring from the speakers, he turns to you, unable to get a word in and get you to move forward with him in search of a drink, he tugs at the collar of your blush pink jacket - one that makes him smirk because he recognizes the ribbed collar and button clasp of the zipper jacket. Looking just like his own matching gray one, shoved in the back of his dresser lately in an effort to try and hide it better from Robin.

An hour or so passes and Steve still hasn’t found Robin, not without trying because his eyes are constantly scanning the crowd, like a lifeguard scanning the water keeping children safe. She’s fine. It’s not my problem to babysit her, he thinks. She’s got Alex.

He’s still with you, leaning against the wall and watching as you dance along to every song that plays for the crowd. Right now, he’s got his eyes glued to your hips as you move along to Owner of a Lonely Heart and sip your lukewarm beer.

You occasionally speak to him, but fuck if he actually has heard a thing you said. You haven’t stopped moving along to the music. It’s warm inside, so he’s holding your jacket now, while he sees the sweat dripping down the nape of your neck. Following it as it drips down and around the column of your throat.

He clears his before he lets himself watch it go any lower, over your clavicle and jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Refill?” he asks, and you nod as the crowd chants out CAN'T TOUCH THIS, jumping in unison and making the floor shake.

Armed with your fresh drink, you find yourself following Steve down the steps of the basement, concrete walls and dusty corners, a basement not meant to be inhabited but perfect for a late night party full of friends and strangers for whoever actually lives here. The pair of you plop down on a dingy sofa, rifling through your purse you pull out a black package and slide a slim black cigarette out if it’s case. He looks at you quizzically as you light it up, the warm and spicy smell of your Djarum Blacks filling the air around you.

“A clove.” you exhale. “A clove cigarette? You want?” you pull one more drag off the cigarette and pass it off to Steve, who studies it before placing the filter to his lips. Pulling a drag, feeling something like cinnamon crackle through his lungs, his brain is fixated on how your lips were just right here where his are now.

“Whoa, that's…different.” He coughs out. “I like it, though. It feels…like…cozy? Does that make sense?”

Taking another drag and blowing out his smoke in one smooth motion this time, he hands it back over to you. Nodding and looking one another over as you pass the clove back and forth for a few minutes in comfortable silence, you’re broken out of your little bubble by the sound of cheating and squealing from the other side of the basement. A squeal that is unmistakably Robin.

The thump of the base echos against the damp and dirty cinder block walls and you and Steve turn the corner to see Robin, perched on top of an old wooden table, swaying and dancing, tank top straps falling off her shoulder as she sways to the beat

Rhythm is a dancer. It's a soul's companion. You can feel it everywhere.

Robin is clearly shitfaced, as she falls to her knees and gyrates on top of the table, you hear Steve groan and he runs his hands through his hair before he goes to step forward. Putting your hand on his shoulder to stop him, he looks back at you confused. “She’s got it.” you gesture to Alex, who's standing there looking mildly concerned, while also letting her pretty girl have some fun.

His protective nature is more evident than ever right now, and it warms you to see it. You’ve only ever really witnessed the snarky jabs and biting remarks that seem to be what their friendship is built on. The concern and softness on his face here is different. Maybe it’s not so much that he wants to be the hero - you remember Robin’s remark the other day at the bowling alley. Maybe he just…cares.

The crowd around the table is cheering and egging Robin on the entire time, only shouting louder as EMF’s Unbelievable switches on, causing Robin to lose her footing. Shaken up, she reaches for Alex, a dazed look in her eye, while her girlfriend throws her arm over her shoulder and they head towards the stairs. “I’m taking her home. She’s a damn mess. A cute one, but a mess.” Alex says to Steve as she passes him on her way up the stairs.

You and Steve trail behind, Robin’s lolling head looking like a ragdoll thrown over Alex’s back. “You sure you don’t need my help?” Steve asks.

“I got it pretty boy. Just…do a welfare check on my girl in the morning. I swear if she wakes up in a pile of her own vomit though - that's on her.”

And just like that, you find yourself the recipient of Steve’s care and concern, as he looks at you on the corner of a quiet midnight street. “Gotta get you home safe too. C’mon.” Holding open your jacket for you - the one you almost forgot he’s been holding for you this whole time - you step inside. He wraps it gently around your shoulders, fingers lingering a bit softly just before he notices and gives you an awkward pat on them instead.

“Are we walking, or are you gonna make me get you a cab again?” he teases.

You roll your eyes as you start walking away. “My place isn’t far. Just this way. Y’gonna make sure I get there okay?”

Nursing hangovers and sore bodies the next morning, the pair have their feet sprawled out across their respective couches, curtains drawn tight keeping out the golden October sunlight, hoodies tied up around their heads keeping the noise out and the light dim. Robin gnaws on a bagel, untoasted, uncut just straight from the bag like a heathen while she is mumbling about what she and Alex have been up to lately.

Steve’s head is hurting, but he really is happy to hear how supportive Alex is of Robin and all the cool things they are doing. He wants to hear more about it even though it feels like her voice is driving one hundred screws directly into his brain stem, so he tips back his bottle of water and tries to focus in.

“We went to this sick basement venue the other night - the music scene there was so cool. You might have liked it Steve. I hear that vinyl collection you have spinning. I have to say, I’m impressed with your blossoming musical taste.”

Just then, he’s hit with a chunk of bagel right on his forehead. Begrudgingly he lets the hunger win out, and takes a bite, needing something to sop up the hangover but too lazy to go down to the corner store for a proper greasy breakfast sandwich.

“Might that have anything to do with a pretty lady who teaches at the University? Hmmm?”

He can already tell Robin wants to lecture him. He doesn’t want to hear it. He knows what she's going to say, and maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he knows what she’s going to say because it’s not really that wrong, and he just doesn’t want to admit any of it or unpack any of it. Why do that when it’s going to blow up in his face anyway? What’s the point in getting his hopes up if he can just play it cool and casual and make like he’s not phased by it when it inevitably doesn’t work out.

Steve already had his head running through this himself. The facts are, you are not a stupid girl and you’re not rolling around the city looking to settle down with some schmuck who juggles dildos at his day job. That’s pretty clear. That date that blew up in your face? That was at a nice restaurant. It was a serious date - or at least it should have been. Steve’s a 26 year old boy running around the city like it’s a playground trying to find himself and you’re an almost 30 year old woman with a career and a personality who is just way out of his league.

“Robin, it’s… complicated.”

“No, no. I’m not seeing what exactly is complicated about it. She’s so COOL. Steve - this is exactly what you need. I don’t know why you will constantly throw yourself like a hotdog down a hallway at anything else that looks at you for a second, but these ones that are good for you. …ACTUALLY good for you, you pretend like it’s a pipe dream?”

With that, they are both startled at the bell yelling out from the phone on the wall, neither expecting a phone call this time. They both look at one another before Robin sighs, pushing herself to stand and clicking the buttons of her Tamagotchi on her leisurely walk over to the receiver. Picking up the phone and laying the handpiece on her shoulder, she continues her focus on caring for her beeping blob, dead set on winning this round before Steve watches her face go white as a ghost.

Her eyes are boring into his, he’s mouthing What’s wrong and he gets nothing in response. His anxiety is swirling in his chest. It’s the kids isn’t it? He can’t help but immediately think that they are in imminent danger. He’s up and walking over, mentally ready to pack a bag and start the drive home before Robin silently hands the phone out to him.

“It’s for you.” she says, stone faced and looking at him with pitiful eyes.

Steve answers, a serious and curt hello into the phone when a familiar voice rolls out of the earpiece that makes him freeze.

“Son… Can you please explain to me why someone would be telling me these astronomical stories about you - a Harrington - working at a Pornographic Store?”

Shit.

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss @scoopshxrrington

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gunterfan1992 · 7 months

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Episode Review: “The Star”/“Jerry”

(Fionna & Cake, Eps. 7–8)

Airdate: September 22, 2023

Story by: Anthony Burch, Adam Muto, Hanna K. Nyström, Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang

Storyboarded by: Iggy Craig, Graham Falk, Jacob Winkler, & Sonja von Marensdorff

Directed by: Ryann Shannon (supervising), Hans Tseng (art)

It is hard to believe that we are already privy to the penultimate episodes of the Fionna & Cake miniseries. So far, this series has been hit after hit. So do "The Star" and "Jerry" live up to what has come before them? Read on for more...

The plot to "The Star" is deceptively simple: Fionna, Cake, and Simon are transported into a universe where Simon was killed by vampires, which led to Marceline being abducted the ice crown-wielding Vampire King (once again played by the wonderfully sonorous Billy Brown) and turned into his protege, known as "The Star." While the world has been almost entirely overrun by vampires, a Mad Max-esque version of Princess Bubblegum is still putting up a hell of a fight (Mad Max Bubblegum is aided in this task by Peppermint Butler-as-a-Tank, a human[?] version of Huntress Wizard, and a non-psychopathic version of Martin). Cake's shapeshifting impresses Mad Max Bubblegum, and so she decides to enlist Fionna, Cake, and Simon's help in defeating the Vampire King and his evil 'daughter.' Alas, as goes the best-laid plans of mice and men... The episode ends on a purposeful anti-climax: Fionna, recognizing that all is effectively lost, forcibly teleports herself, Cake, and Simon away from Vampire World while Mad Max Bubblegum and The Star struggle in the sky, with neither wanting to land a killing blow. The fate of Vampire World is thus left unresolved.

As a major fan of Stakes, I was delighted to be transported back into the world of vampires in "The Star." And this time, the show does a very solid job showing just how powerful and scary these monsters actually are (despite their Kermit the Frog-meets-Nosferatu appearance). And let us not forget Evil Marceline (oh, where to start)! I quite like that Ooo's Marceline is a heroic anti-anti-Christ, but even I found the titular antagonist of "The Star" to be a terrifying delight. It has been a good long while since Marceline has rightly pranked someone, and while I don't know if killing people or sucking souls count as pranks, it was nonetheless wonderful to see her ornery side return—only this time, turned up to 11. You can tell that Olivia Olson had a lot of fun recording her lines for this episode; her performance is energetic, her tone mocking. When I heard The Star taunt Mad Max Bubblegum and Co., it took me back to when I first heard Olson's voice acting in "Evicted!"

It was a clever move having The Star and Mad Max Bubblegum be sworn enemies, as it allowed the series to explore their dynamic as a couple without focusing on their past or present relationship. In the Vampire World, we learn that the two have never been in a relationship together. But despite this, still found themselves pulled toward one another in an almost preternatural way. Who knows… Just as the souls of Finn and Jake seem to be destined to always find one another, perhaps Marceline and Bubblegum are "soul mates" in a similarly metaphysical sense? Regardless, the hesitancy to kill one another that both characters show at the end of the episode speaks volumes as to how they feel about one another, even in a universe where they are sworn enemies. (Man, I really hope we get a Bubbline spin-off one of these days…)

Ah, I feel like I could talk about the Star for days, but there is more to consider, so let me move on to…

Airdate: September 22, 2023

Story by: Anthony Burch, Adam Muto, Hanna K. Nyström, Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang

Storyboarded by: Hanna K. Nyström, Anna Syvertsson, Jim Campbell, & Jackie Files

Directed by: Steve Wolfhard (supervising), Hans Tseng (art)

"Jerry" begins with Fionna, Cake, and Simon finding themselves in a dead and desolate world—humorously dubbed "Crapworld" by Cake—that we later learn was created by the Lich's wish in the season five premiere "Finn the Human." (As a mythological aside, when the Lich made his initial wish, it seems that Prismo did not simply wipe out all life in the Oooniverse; instead, he effectively created a copy of the Oooniverse within the Oooniverse. After killing off all life in this bubble dimension, Prismo then transported the Lich to his new wish-altered reality. Really, it is turtles all the way down…) While searching for the Crapworld ice crown, Simon tries to cheer up an increasingly despondent Fionna by telling him the story of how he and Betty met.

Eventually, our heroes run into Crapworld BMO, who upon learning that Prismo's remote is out of juice, attempts to recharge it with his robot heart. This does not go as planned (it actually results in Crapworld BMO spectacularly exploding, which is somehow both horrifying and funny), and Simon, Fionna, and Cake decide to track down Crapworld BMO's oft-mentioned friend "Jerry" and tell him that BMO has passed. Upon finding Jerry, however, the trio discover that he is actually the Lich… albeit a depressed Lich; it seems that after fulfilling his mission of ending all life, the Lich lost a sense of purpose. (I've been there, dude...) Simon sees this as an opportunity, and using the Crapworld ice crown and the Lich himself as a conduits, he manages to summon GOLB just as Scarab materializes to deliver divine punishment.

To be continued!

"Jerry" is a decidedly bleak episode that more than anything radiates the creative sensibilities of its supervising director, Steve Wolfhard. For those out of loop, Wolfhard was a storyboard artist on the original Adventure Time series, and he helped write some of the show's strongest outings (e.g., "Puhoy," "Lemonhope," "Escape from the Citadel," "Graybles 1000+"). Wolfhard has a unique approach to writing, often using humor/cuteness to paste over more existential horrors, and while he did not storyboard "Jerry," the episode nevertheless feels like the apogee of his "voice," brimming as it does with a darkness that is only lightly covered with a veneer of humor. Indeed, many of the episode's funniest moments (e.g., the scene in which BMO cheerfully, stupidly kills itself, the reveal that the Lich has depression) cannot be described as anything other than gallows humor. Wolfhard often joked in interviews that many of the episodes he pitched involved main characters dying. With "Jerry," he finally got his chance.

Ultimately, what prevents "Jerry" from becoming a bummer-fest is the way the episode is interspersed with flashbacks that tell the story of how Simon and Betty fell in love. Despite their being the emotional heart of the episode, I do not have much to say about these scenes other than they are sweet. They largely expand upon details that we already knew, but in doing so, they enliven those details, infusing them with a sense of affect that exposition or background detailing could never convey. There's a couple easter eggs thrown in for die-hard fans (e.g., several relics from the main series are name-dropped, we see when a photograph of Simon from "I Remember You" was taken), and its all tied-up nicely with a new HALF SHY song, "Everything in You." All in all, these scenes are the sweet, sweet eye bleach we need, given the tone of the episode's other half.

My biggest gripe with these episodes is that they both lean too far into Fionna's failures while somehow not leaning in far enough. The former issue is most noticeable in "The Star," the beginning of which sees Fionna follow up her candy genocide by making a series of increasingly bone-headed decisions, one of which leads to the direct death of a character (although, Mad Max Bubblegum was also quite bone-headed for letting Random New Girl put everyone in danger immediately after introducing them to her few crew members). Put simply, I feel the episode excessively plays up Fionna as a gullible girlfail, which seems a bit much. Paradoxically, in "Jerry," the show did not have Fionna properly, fully, believably consider the ramifications of the mistakes she had made; instead, the episode focuses much of its emotional energy on the story of Simon and Betty's relationship. Yes, Fionna does have a realistic breakdown in the middle of the episode, but almost immediately, the show decides to have Simon distract her with more of his own love story. None of this sinks the episodes, but it does make them less than perfect.

For some, the episodes' bleakness might also be a defect: indeed in both "The Star" and "Jerry," lots of characters die, and the fridge horror is off the charts. But while I have criticized the show for such cruelty in the past (e.g., my review of "Wizard City"), the bleakness in these episodes is not meaningless. Instead, it arguably serves to underscore that without Simon Petrikov existing and doing all that he has in the Ooo Prime universe, the world (any world) quickly goes to hell. (This is perhaps most noticeable in "The Star," given that the big twist of that universe is that Simon was killed by vampires, presumably before he placed the ice crown on his head, thus resulting in Marceline's capture and indoctrination by the Vampire King.) Even in his crazed "Ice King" state, Simon is something like a cosmic lynchpin holding together reality! Considering how much Simon/the Ice King is a woobie in the original series, it is nice to see Fionna & Cake accentuate just how important he actually is.

Final “The Star” Grade: A-

Final “Jerry” Grade: A-

#adventure time #atimers #marceline #review #marceline the vampire queen #princess bubblegum #bubblegum #bubbline #fionna and cake #fionna campbell #cake the cat #simon petrikov #ice king #lich

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ladykailitha · 8 months

Text

Well Met By Moonlight Part 4

I'm back with our boys, I just couldn't leaving the poor people reading Royal Pain hanging like that. I'm an author, not a monster. So it's a little longer a chapter to make up for the wait.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

We get hints of plot and backstory. Enjoy!

***

The sky was starting to lighten and Steve groaned.

“Make time stop,” he murmured into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie chuckled. “Sorry, princess, but you promised Lucas that you would be back at dawn.”

Steve grumped, but crawled off his boyfriend and stretched. “Who would have thought vampires have better stamina then werewolves.”

Eddie’s answering grin was positively feral.

“Who’s to say I wasn’t like that before I got turned?” He winked at Steve as he pulled on his clothes.

Steve laughed. “I’ll guess I’ll never know.”

Eddie straightened up and looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

Steve shrugged. “A couple things, really. Like I don’t know what you were like before you changed and I won’t know if it’s just you or all vampires that are that good, because I don’t intend to sleep with anyone else. Ever.”

Eddie finished putting on his clothes and put his arms around Steve’s waist from behind. “You are very romantic for someone who comes from a race that is infamous for fucking everything willing.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Everyone says I’m too romantic for my own good, for the pack’s good.”

Eddie kissed Steve’s throat without so much as the hint of teeth. “Too bad, baby, because I am into that shit.”

Steve moaned. “If you keep that up, I won’t make it back to the compound in time.”

Eddie chuckled again, his warm breath huffing against the skin of Steve’s neck. He let go of Steve’s waist. “Go on, sweet cheeks,” he teased. “I’ve got to report back to my uncle before the sun fully comes up.”

Steve nodded and waited until Eddie was in the sky before he transformed.

Steve made it to the pack compound before the first true ray of dawn even peeked over the horizon.

Lucas huffed out a wolfy laugh. “Cutting it little close, aren’t we?”

Steve shrugged. “What can I say? I’m horny teenager that hasn’t gotten laid in over a year. So sue me.”

Lucas rolled on the ground laughing. “Come on, it’s time for Murray to do guard duty.”

Steve nodded. “Can you have Erica and Holly play nearby while he does his watch?”

Lucas sat up and nodded. “Still don’t trust him?”

Steve shook his head. The alpha watched as the scrawny wolf that was Murray’s alter came oozing out of the woods. He bowed his head to Steve and kept it down as the alpha and younger teen passed him.

As the two wolves went further into the forest that surrounded their home, they could feel the gaze of the older wolf on them.

Eddie made it back to the trailer park well before the sky lightened enough to hurt him. He smiled at the structure that had been his home since he was young. It didn’t look like it held the most dangerous and powerful vampire in Indiana. But looks were deceiving for both the man and his home.

Wayne had been turned in Kentucky around the beginning of the 18th century. When he sided against the South’s right to own people, he was chased out of his home into Indiana, only barely a couple decades into statehood.

There with the help of Dr Martin Brenner, the coven Dominus and Clarence Harrington, the alpha, Steve’s great, great, great grandfather (werewolves live longer, so not as many generations between Steve and his ancestor as there was between Eddie and his) and the reason it’s called the Harrington Pack, founded Hawkins as a safe haven for the supernatural and humans alike.

Wayne looked rough, because he was born rough. The oldest son of a farmer. He had six siblings but of those six, only two lived to adulthood. Abigail, and the youngest, Lawrence. When he was attacked, he fought back, getting the vampire’s blood in his teeth, accidentally starting the turning process.

He learned how to hunt and be a vampire all his own, breaking all the stereotypes of a turned vampire being feral.

Because of his rough looks it made people underestimate him, so he dug into that hard. He moved with the poor and disenfranchised wherever the people in power put them. He finally settled in Forest Hills. His trailer looked as rough as the man himself.

But it was built like fortress. Not a single ray of light pierced its metal hide and the windows were mainly for show. It was a tough old thing, too. Eddie had heard stories of tornadoes ripping through the area only to be the only thing left standing.

Eddie wasn’t sure what it was made of, but it was home. He slipped into the trailer like a shadow to find his uncle waiting for him.

“Cutting it pretty fine, aren’t you, boy?” Wayne asked from his comfortable arm chair.

Eddie grinned. “You know me, I like to push the boundaries as far as I can.”

Wayne scoffed. “And one day it’s going to get you killed.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Wayne got to his feet and gave Eddie a hug.

“I’m glad you’re home, Ed,” he murmured. “I worried that Hopper had finally crossed a line he couldn’t come back from.”

Eddie nodded, “It was a near thing, Uncle Wayne, but Steve had finally healed enough to use his alpha voice and force submission.”

“I worry that he had to use it all,” Wayne said.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie said cocking his head to the side, “at least Operation Vamp Out was a success. So there’s that at least.”

Wayne pulled back, putting Eddie at arms length to see him properly. “You got the alpha to do what exactly? Because this shit’s important, Ed.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully, “I’m not sure I feel comfortable telling you about that, if I’m honest.”

Wayne’s eyebrows went up and his eyelids fluttered to a close. “You fucked him, didn’t you? You fucked the alpha of the Harrington pack.” He opened his eyes.

Eddie pursed his lips to try and hide his smile, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed him.

“Hop was against it until I said you were my maker,” Eddie hedged.

“Yeah, because that meant he wouldn’t have to fight off Bill Hargrove for the pleasure.”

Eddie frowned. “S’that because the Dominus is a racist piece of shit who is absolutely grinding his fangs to powder because his half-sister is dating a werewolf?”

Wayne chuckled. “The very like.”

“He’s also very scared of you,” Eddie said moving to sit on the sofa, “Hop I mean.”

Wayne’s grin was vicious in its unfurling. “That’s because Hop knows what I’d do to him if he toed out of line.”

“I’ve always wondered why you didn’t do anything about him when he drunk off his ass most of the time.”

Wayne knelt in front Eddie and took his hands gently. “Because around the time Sara died, you came into my life. You were already a frightened little boy who was thrown into my care, not know what kind of vampire I was. Would you have warmed up to me as well as you did if I had torn Jim Hopper to shreds?”

Eddie blinked up at him, his mouth wide with shock. “No.”

“There, you have your answer,” Wayne said softly. “I couldn’t deal with a wayward alpha when I had a sweet boy to look after.”

He moved to sit next to Eddie on the sofa and bumped him with his shoulder. “I can’t be everywhere and I’ve learned that I can’t throw my weight around like I used to. I’m actually worried that I’m losing control of the town.”

“Is this about Jason and the other boys?” Eddie asked.

Wayne nodded. “It never should have gotten as far as it did. Let alone to the attempted murder of the pack’s alpha. And Sheriff Powell has been fractious to put it mildly.”

Eddie pursed his lips and then licked them slowly. “It would be better if Hopper was police chief again.”

Wayne nodded again. “Powell as sheriff is bad for the town. I’ll talk to Mayor Roberts and see if we can’t at least get him suspended for not taking a threat to the Harrington Pack alpha seriously.”

“Have Steve and Billy with you,” Eddie suggested. “Especially Steve. Because at least he can show the mayor the scars that the silver made.”

“That’s a good idea, Ed,” Wayne said. “I’ll get right on that.” He bumped Eddie’s shoulder again. “You’ve got a good head on you. Maybe in a few years, I’ll have you take over as leader here.”

Eddie blushed and ducked his head. “Only if that means you’re still around. I don’t want to lose you.”

Wayne pulled him close. “I won’t leave you. Not if it’s in my power.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him and buried his head into his neck like he did that first night all those years ago. “I love you.”

Wayne kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too, boy.”

Mayor Roberts was pissed. He had especially placed Danny Powell as sheriff when the whole town thought Jim Hopper was dead. But the man had placed him between a rock and two vampires and a werewolf alpha all chomping on the bit for justice.

Justice that was rightly deserved. Hunters were like vigilantes. Outside the law, but respected by those who thought them necessary. Hunters that were very much barred from the town of Hawkins for a reason.

To be honest he was a little surprised it took five days for the three men in question to darken his door.

Wayne Munson walked in flanked by the teen leaders of the coven and pack. Billy Hargrove stood on the elder vampire’s right, while Steve Harrington stood on Wayne’s left.

The young werewolf looked more than a little worse for wear, he winced when he moved into the room, favoring his left leg. The leg Roberts was told had not only been shot with a silver bullet but caught in a silver foot trap.

It was inhumane what those boys did to Steve, but it was thing to hear about it and it was quite another to see its effects.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Roberts greeted solemnly. “I’m sorry we have to meet like this under these circumstances. Please have a seat.”

Harrington looked like he wanted to but when Munson and Hargrove didn’t he couldn’t without looking weak in front everyone. Something the alpha could not do.

He shifted his weight to his foot, straightening his spine so it looked as though he was standing on both legs equally.

Hargrove caught the movement and smirked. Munson ignored them both.

“We’ve come to see what is being done,” Munson said gravely.

“Jason and Patrick are both eighteen and will be charged with the full extent of the law,” Roberts said. “Andy, Chase, and Josh are all underaged and it’s trickier. Josh and Chase are only sixteen, while Andy is seventeen.”

All three supernaturals winced.

“Try Andy as child,” Steve said, “and then force the younger two boys to do community service in both the pack and the coven. Six weeks with each sect.”

Wayne and Billy looked over at Steve in shock. Mayor Roberts raised an eyebrow.

“What is the basis for that assessment?” the mayor asked.

Steve properly straightened up and all the boy next door persona dropped away to reveal a very powerful alpha. “I was there. I could tell that the two pups were only along for what they thought was prank. They are young enough that if they see what being in coven is like, what being in a pack is like, I believe they can change.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down.

“Andy was a more willing participant,” he continued seriously, “but perhaps one that could be persuaded that he was in the wrong. The other two knew full well of what they were doing and should be punished for it.” He looked up at Mayor Roberts, fire burning in his eyes.

Hargrove let out a long whistle. “Got some brains on you after all. I agree with alpha Harrington’s assessment and terms.”

All three men looked to Munson who was considering it. He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “It is sound judgment but I would like to add one thing, if I may?”

Mayor Roberts nodded. “Go on.”

“That the justice for Steve concerning the fate of Jason and Patrick be placed in my hands,” he growled.

The other three men blanched.

“They are still boys,” Mayor Roberts said, twisting a tissue in his hands nervously.

“I won’t kill them,” Munson promised. “But it’s time again I showed this town why I am its master.”

The mayor gulped, but nodded. Munson lowered his head slightly and then back up, not quite a nod, but an acknowledgment nonetheless.

Munson turned on his heel and walked out, the alpha and Dominus close behind.

***

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #vampire eddie munson #ladykailtiha writes #werewolf steve harrington

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