#just to be clear i still hate her fucking guts
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okay yes toxic jake and chloe i love it. screaming yelling fighting, angry sex in bathroom stalls and school custodian closets and ruthlessly spreading rumors and absolutely hating each other for years but still ending up back together when it's dark and they're alone. jake and chloe who are shocked back into reality after the fire and squip and realize they're better off with other people yes yes endgame richjake endgame pinkberry or whatever other ship you want BUT also jake and chloe broken up but jake and chloe still in love with the idea of each other
jake and chloe in january after the fire when chloe comes out as lesbian and jake's so supportive in public but the second he's alone in his apartment he's in tears because I was supposed to marry her. It was over, he knew it was, but there was still some part of him that had his entire future revolving around coming back to her
Chloe with a girl, so much happier than she's ever been with Jake, but when things don't work out with that girl and she's single again she calls Jake with the intention of hooking up, of angry break up-make-up sex even though that break up was with someone else and it's only after he picks up that she realizes she doesn't want that anymore. He doesn't want that anymore. He still drives over and he still holds her but it's not like it was.
They don't forgive each other and they aren't friends but they've still got that time after the SATs in spring when jake took her out to lunch because he was finally stress-free and she can tell that they're there for a reason and she's scared it's going to be a I still love you, but then she's shocked with a "How'd you know?" "Know what?" "I mean. About. That. Girls. That you---" and he looks so flustered and scared and Chloe's trying to be better so instead of relishing in his discomfort she just talks him through everything and somehow it ends with him apologizing and her apologizing and they know they're never ever going to be what they once were---there's never even gonna be acquaintances, they'll see each other once a year when they come home for holiday breaks (if that, because does Jake really have a home to come back to?) but no matter what, she's going to be his first love and he'll be the only name she remembers from high school when she's old and has a life with new friends and a new personality that isn't just a manifestation of her own self-hatred
#bitch i tried to save that as a draft and posted it#now editing it and adding stupid tags FUCK YOU#bmc#jake dillinger#also sorry if that makes no sense IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRAFT#be more chill#chloe valentine#just to be clear i still hate her fucking guts#i just like adding complexity too#she's still a total bitch and she does not deserve forgivenes in my opinion anyway#be more chill musical#also this is absolutely not a new concept i'm just saying it in my own words for purposes of typing it out#so i no longer have to obsessively think about it while playing sudoku in the dark#that's literally how i spent my evenings like after 11 pm it's just me in the dark#mentally writing fanfic#while playing sudoku
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Conrad deserves better than Belly. After he sees Jere and her kiss, he get his ass to Stanford and meet this cute and smart maybe tutor girl (Haley James style) and falls in love with her and then they show up at Jere's wedding years later and Belly is jelly
I've spent the last five days working on this one.
p.s. it's 2k words...
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
When Conrad finished his exam, he went back to Jeremiah and Belly. He was going to tell and confess his love to her before she had to get home, but when he got to his car, the scene Conrad walked on made him sick to his stomach: Belly and Jeremiah were full on making out against his car. He stopped short of the car and cleared his throat, causing the two to spring apart from their heated kiss and see Conrad looking right at them.
Conrad’s face was white. He would rather have had someone shoot him in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly, than have to watch the two of them kissing.
He didn't know who he was more angry at. Belly, who, not even a day ago, had told him she would have fought harder for him if she knew he loved her that much. Or Jeremiah, who, although he knew how much Belly meant to his brother and how fucking in love he was with her, seized the opportunity to kiss Belly the moment he was alone with her.
‘’Conrad—’’ Belly started, guilt settling in her guts.
He cut her off, his voice cold and cutting. ‘’I don’t want to hear it.’’
His gaze shifted from Belly to Jeremiah. There was so much hate in his eyes. How could Jere do that to him? They agreed to stop hiding things from each other and talk, but Jeremiah must have forgotten already.
‘’You broke up with her, Con, remember? We did nothing wrong,’’ Jeremiah said, pulling facts in his favor to make himself feel better — less guilty — for kissing his brother’s ex.
When Conrad kissed Belly on the beach last summer, he didn’t know she and Jeremiah were a thing — if he could call it that — or that he liked her. If he had, he wouldn’t have kissed Belly or confessed his feelings to her. Had the situation had been in reverse, Conrad wasn’t sure Jeremiah would have backed off.
‘’I’m done.’’ Conrad's voice was resolute, his heart heavy as he turned away, unable to bear the sight of them any longer.
Jeremiah moved to follow, calling out Conrad's name. He didn’t stop, needing to be as far as possible from the painful scene. His mind was racing with a jumble of emotions. Anger, betrayal, and a profound hurt gnawed at him. He had trusted both Belly and Jeremiah, yet they pulled this shit behind his back.
‘’Why do you always have to act like that?’’ Jeremiah said as he quickened his pace to catch up.
Finally, Conrad turned to face Jeremiah, his expression a mix of sorrow and resentment. ‘’You don’t get to tell me how to react, Jere. You kiss the girl I love outside my school, against my car while she’s wearing my sweatshirt. If you don’t see how disgusting and messed up it all sounds—’’
‘’She kissed me,’’ the younger one quickly defended.
Hearing this made him want to pack his bags, get his ass to stanford and focus on school. He needed to turn the Belly page, and in order to do that, he needed to be away from both she and Jeremiah. California seemed far enough, right?
*
The first days and weeks were tough for Conrad, struggling to accept the definite end of the relationship. She was still all over him like a wine-stained shirt he couldn’t wear anymore.
He blocked both Belly and Jeremiah’ numbers. If he wanted to move on, he had to keep his distance from them. For a while, at least. Then, he deleted all the old pictures he kept of Belly on his phone. There was no going back for them anymore.
He was done.
*
You met Conrad a little before Christmas break. Just like those cliché rom-coms, you walked right into him and spilled your chai latte all over his sweater. You wanted to break the cliché and not fall for the victim of your clumsiness, but after one look into those beautiful blue eyes, you knew it would be impossible.
After that day, you kept crossing paths around campus and, one afternoon, you asked him out. He was so surprised, but he said ‘yes’.
Although you had sealed the end of the night with a few kisses, you decided to take things slow. You had a very busy schedule with the tutoring lessons on top of your regular program, and Conrad was unsure if it was too soon to get in another relationship, if he was ready for it. The scar Belly had left on his heart was healing, but was he ready to open his heart to someone again?
‘’Have you ever been in love?’’ you asked one night in his dorm while studying.
Your question had caught Conrad off guard. It was visible on his face.
‘’Have you?’’ he returned, not taking his eyes off his textbook.
He was trying to dodge the question.
‘’I asked you first,’’ you said, seeing through his plan.
‘’Then yes.’’
‘’How many times?’’
‘’Once.’’
His answers were flat, annoyed he was by all your questions. He wished you would stop and get back to studying in silence, but you kept going.
‘’On a scale of one to ten, how in love were you?’’
‘’You can’t put being in love on a scale,’’ he said, lifting his head with furrowed eyebrows. ‘’Either you are or you aren’t.’’
‘’But if you had to say.’’
Conrad started flipping through his notes. He hadn’t thought of Belly in months. He missed her — in a different way he used to. She was his friend before they got tangled into this mess.
He didn’t look at you when he finally said it. ‘’Ten.’’
*
The more time he spent in your presence, the more Conrad was — unknowingly — letting go of his past.
The pictures he deleted months ago became pictures of you, filling his phone until there was no space left. The smell of your perfume lingered on some of his clothes and in his car. He had your coffee order memorized, along with your favorite study-break snack, which he made sure to have in stock in his dorm.
You became part of his routine — part of his life —, brightening his days even on his darkest, saddest nights.
He didn’t want to bother you, but nothing was calming the ache in his chest. He tried getting some air and smoking weed, he even thought of calling Laurel, but it was almost 2am in Pennsylvania. Conrad didn’t want to scare her.
So he pulled up your contact and called, the weight of his grief still heavy in his heart, wishing Susannah was still there. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since she took her last breath.
You were about to slip into bed when you saw his name flashing on your phone. You almost didn’t pick up, but you got a gut feeling that he needed you.
When you opened your door, a saddened look was etched onto Conrad's face, his beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. The sight pulled at your heart and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him for the whole night.
Supported each other through finals and all-nighters.
‘’Getting tired?’’ you said, catching him actively fighting against his own eyelids.
Conrad shook his head, taking a long gulp of his coffee. ‘’No time for sleep. I have this huge exam first thing tomorrow and I still have a lot of chapters to cover.’’
‘’You can take a short nap if you want. I’ll wake you in thirty minutes,’’ you kindly offered, flipping through your notes for a specific annotation.
‘’Nah, I’m good.’’ He flashed you a soft smile, then returned to his studying.
A few minutes later, and you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's eyes had begun to droop. They would halfway close and then he would either blink a bunch of times, or widen his eyes until they were bug eyed. It was cute.
‘’Con? Conrad?’’ you called out gently.
‘’I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes,’’ he mumbled defensively, fighting fatigue.
There was no way he was getting through the night, so you put your notes down and slipped on Conrad’s flannel shirt that was on the back of your chair to shield you from the night air. ‘’We’re gonna need more coffee.’’
As you came back with two fresh cups of coffee, you found Conrad fast asleep on your pillow, still clutching his pen.
And held his hand through the rainiest times — literally.
‘’Isn't California supposed to be the sunniest state?’’ Conrad asked, watching the downpour through the windshield, drenched from head to toe. ‘’The seats are all wet...’’
‘’You gotta learn to live with the consequences of your own actions, Connie baby.’’
It was his idea to get waffles when the sky was looking very gray and angry. He insisted that it would clear out, but a loud clap of thunder echoed on your way back to the car and rain started pouring. You took the road back to campus, but it got too dangerous, forcing Conrad to stop the car on the shoulder of the road and wait for the rain to calm.
You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips, still the most beautiful to his eyes despite your wet hair and the slight smear of mascara under your eyes.
‘’Rain happens everywhere. Even in the dryest desert,’’ you reminded him, pulling out your phone to check the weather app.‘’Unfortunately, this one isn't gonna stop anytime soon.’’
You toed off your sneakers, making Conrad draw his eyebrows.
‘’What are you doing?’’
‘’We’re gonna be here for a while.’’ You peeled off your hoodie — also wet from the rain —, leaving you in your skirt and dainty bralette. ‘’Might as well occupy ourselves,’’ you explained before leaning over the middle console and kissing him, fastening yourself to him with a stitch.
The kiss took him by surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. He could spend hours kissing you and never get bored.
You crawled over the console and on Conrad’s lap without breaking contact, your hands easily finding grip on his hair as you felt his hands all over your body, caressing and pulling. The windows were fogging quickly around you, creating a veil of privacy as more layers were peeled off.
Conrad once believed he had found love, that Belly was it for him, but the feelings he felt back then were nothing compared to how he felt right now.
‘’You’re the best thing that happened to me,’’ he confessed, his forehead pressed against yours.
*
The invitation came in a few weeks before the wedding. Conrad couldn’t believe his brother was going through with this. Everything was happening so fast and seemed rushed. Him and Belly weren’t even twenty. Who gets married so young anymore?
He arrived in Cousins a few days prior to the wedding, surprising everyone — and stealing the attention from the soon-to-be-weds — when they saw a girl with him.
The only person who knew exactly who you were was Steven. A few months ago, you had posted a picture with Conrad at the beach and tagged him, leading to Steven finding out about his friend’s new girlfriend. He was surprised when he saw it, but very happy for Conrad. He deserved better than someone who plays between two hearts.
Laurel put down the table-center she was holding and went over to pull Conrad in a hug. She turned to you, making quick introductions, and Conrad held his breath. He’s always been close to Laurel and her approval meant more to him than his father’s or Jeremiah’s.
While the two of you engaged into a conversation, he saw her. Belly. Dressed in a white sundress and talking to Taylor, she looked just the same. The only difference was, Conrad felt nothing. No pain, no old feelings rising back.
For the first time, what’s past was past.
‘’Belly, come greet Connie and his girlfriend,’’ Laurel called out to her daughter.
Although you had never met her, you could tell exactly who she was in the room — and not only because her dress was white. The jealousy filling her eyes when they fell on you gave her away.
—
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#conrad fisher#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher x reader#the summer i turned pretty#the summer i turned pretty imagine#tsitp#conrad fisher fanfic#conrad fisher x you
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baby, baby, baby (sh)
steve's always discovering new things about himself, usually with your help
breeding kink!!! i can't state enough if this isn't ur thing click off because that's all it is. unprotected sex, p in v (f! reader), fingering, discussion of babies and breeding, hint of jancy, rough-ish sex, bit of misogyny surrounding birth control (reader goes on the pill.) one use of the word daddy during sex but not rly daddy kink. no use of y/n, no spoilers, no reader description. steve’s into cringy pet names i don’t make the rules (2.2k words)
a/n; a really lovely reader made it clear to me that some of my language wasn’t POC or plus size friendly. this absolutely wasn’t my intention and i’ve edited this language out to ensure that this is a fic for anyone, as intended. pls let me know if i do make any mistakes like this - being exclusive is absolutely not something i ever intend to be. thank you angels<3
it had started growing in him one day, and he hadn’t felt the end of it since.
a sort of weird, deep urge he felt in his bones, gnawing at him from the inside out and churning his brain and boiling his guts. if he hadn’t known better, he might have called it animalistic. neanderthal. his most base instinct. for months, he hadn’t been able to think about anything else. twisting his mind and driving him crazy.
steve harrington wanted to fuck you full of his babies.
you hadn’t even known you were doing it. how could you? you knew he wanted kids, and a lot of them, but it felt miles off in your mind. when he told you about you and the six kiddos and the camper van, you thought he meant five, maybe even ten years off. so you’d thought nothing of it when your friend liz had asked to come over for a coffee with her almost brand-new baby and you’d spent the afternoon playing with her in front of steve.
he’d seemed a bit more tense than usual, and you thought maybe he was uncomfortable around the baby. you knew he had a relatively small, relatively disconnected family, and the last kid born was more than ten years ago, so he’d never really even been around infants. he seemed to be watching intently as you picked her up, smoothing her tufts of hair back and nuzzling your nose into her hair to absorb her uniquely baby smell. you’d never brought it up though, never thinking much of it. until it started happening more.
you’d see a toddler sticking their tongue out at the grocery store and stick yours back before steve would half drag you away by the arm. you’d mention your hairdresser’s imminent due date, and he’d find a way to change the topic. hell, you’d cooed over the baby in look who’s talking one time and he’d switched the channels, claiming he hated john travolta even though you’d watched saturday night fever with him at least four times. you were starting to get confused. the two of you had talked about kids; why was it becoming such a problem now?
───
‘i got on the pill, y’don’t have to bother with a condom.’
steve stopped stock still. in seven years, he’d never been able to go without. shitty blue state indiana had made contraception for unmarried women a fucking nightmare, and while he really wanted to marry you eventually, he wasn’t about to do it just so he could go raw. steve’d half-hoped he wouldn’t be able to until you were married; he didn’t know what he was capable of if you let him do that to you. but you’d sprung it on him. while you were naked under him and he was halfway to the bedside table, you’d laid a small hand on his arm and looked up at him with that expression on your face he loved so much and stuck out your bottom lip. he’d never said no to you before. how could he ever start now?
‘a-are you sure? y’know i don’t mind, sweetness, i’m happy to wear one.’ he was frowning now, deep lines etching the ordinarily soft skin of his forehead, and you reached a hand up to smooth out the creases.
‘kinda thought you’d be a bit more excited than this, honey.’ you were half-smiling, half-worried, head tilted as you observed steve. you’d known him for fifteen years, been dating him almost half as long. knew him like the back of your hand, knew when he was worried about something, when something was playing on his mind and he just couldn’t shrug it off. he shook his head vehemently, stroking your face with a shaky hand.
’s’not that, babe. i’m really excited, like, really excited. didn’t think we’d be able to do this until- well…’ he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your bare shoulder in a feeble attempt to hide his reddening face from your eyesight.
you sat up a little then, peering down at him. the pill wasn’t even something you’d thought much of until nancy had told you all about it, hush hush over a coffee.
‘it’s changed my life, honestly. everything’s more… regular, and well, you know…’ you’d raised your eyebrows at her to hasten her explanation and she’d blushed bright red and hidden behind her hair when she whispered ‘jonathan loves being able to, like… y’know, do it inside. everything’s so much better in the bedroom.’
you’d left your lunch date hot under the collar, and almost sprinted straight to your family doctor. the idea of being so intimate, so close to steve for the first time ever without having to worry about the consequences excited you.
‘until what, stevie? we can carry on using a condom if you w-‘ steve’s eyes shot open, shaking his head wildly until his hair bounced.
‘no! no, i just.’ he cleared his throat, itching the back of his neck nervously.
‘i’m worried if we do it without, i won’t be able to hold back. the idea of doing that to you, of cumming inside you… it makes me so hard i can’t think.’
his confession left your mouth open and mind whirring, thinking back to the last few months and the way he’d been acting around you and babies and all of a sudden, everything clicked.
‘stevie,’ you cooed, smirking at the expression on his face. ‘you wanna get me pregnant, don’t you?’
a guttural groan broke free from his throat and he lunged forward like a man possessed, capturing your lips with a ferocious heat that had you moaning into his mouth. large, rough hands gripped your stomach, your hips, and squeezed so tight you groaned. steve took his chance, tongue surging into your mouth and licking the top of your mouth, the back of your teeth. he pushed himself up so he was kneeling above you, manhandling you up so you were facing him, knees touching.
‘y’can’t say that to me, baby,’ he looked frantic, still kissing you between words. ‘god, you’re so… so fuckin’… h christ, can’t believe you said that.’ your mind was reeling, all consumed with the idea of it.
‘i’d be lying if i said the thought of trying for a baby with you wasn’t on my mind recently, stevie.’ you looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering, and his fingers dug into your flesh so hard you were sure there’d be bruises the next morning. ‘when liz came over with the baby, y’have no idea how much i wished she was ours.’
steve was totally fucked.
he couldn’t get his breathing under control listening to talking about carrying his babies, and his head was swimming in pictures; you, lying on the beach in a bikini with a cute bump. lying on your front cautiously while steve rubbed your tired back muscles. tying your shoes for you ‘cuz you couldn’t reach over your swollen tummy. most of all though, he couldn’t stop imagining the sight of his cum seeping out from your pretty little pussy, your hips propped up on a pillow, hoping it’d take.
‘think we should?’ he spoke before he could even think about it, and he almost apologised. almost. because when he looked down at your face, instead of seeing shock or disgust, you were fucking smirking up at him. a manicured nail traced its way up through his chest hair, the other hand gripping the back of his neck, and steve felt lightheaded.
‘you gotta be off the pill at least a week before it stops working, you know.’ you cocked your head to the side. ‘doesn’t mean we can’t start practising though.’
steve helped you onto your knees so you were face down, ass up. his favourite, especially when he wanted to go a bit harder, a bit rougher, and the anticipation sent shivers down your spine. behind you, the bed shifted, and the distinctive sound of elastic cracking skin rang out from behind you as steve shed his boxers, the final (and only) barrier left between the two of you.
‘you want me to lube up, baby? i’d ask you to do it with your mouth, but i think i’d bust.’ you laughed together and he grabbed your left hand, intertwining your fingers. no matter what, steve never made you doubt how much he loved you, and small moments of intimacy like this always made you wanna cry every time.
‘just a bit, babe, ‘m ready for you,’ you whined your hips back into him, ass brushing his hairy thighs, and he groaned at the trail of slick you left against his hot skin. reaching into the drawer and, for the first time, straight past the open box of johnnies, steve grabbed the half-empty bottle of lube that lived there. you could hear him squirting it into his hand, slathering it all over his thick cock, all the while muttering away almost mindlessly.
‘you’re gonna be such a good mommy, honey, s’ good for me and our baby. so full of our children, so beautiful and round for me, gonna look after you. gonna be the most gorgeous little family, sweetness.’ he reached down, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
‘baby, i really need to just fuck you full,’ he whispered, and you looked over your shoulder at him. there was an almost feral gleam in his eyes, and you swallowed thickly. he pushed two long fingers into you, whining when he found you were already soaking wet and more than ready to take him. you keened your hips back again, pleading, pretty eyelashes fluttering.
‘take me, steve.’
he was up to the base by the time you’d taken a breath, heavy balls resting at the curve of your thighs and ass, and the sensation was like nothing either of you had known before. you could feel every ridge, every vein pumping through his cock, and he felt so warm in you it could have almost been too much. steve had never felt anything so hot, so tight, so unbelievably natural in his whole life, and he had to stop still as soon as he was balls deep lest he cum in seconds.
‘oh fuck,’ he was groaning behind you, legs trapping the bottom half of your body to the bed in an attempt to stop you squirming. ‘this is- jesus christ, this is something else, baby.’ under him, you were desperately trying not to rock your hips back into steve’s. he was so heavy and hard inside you, twitching and leaking precum already and he hadn’t even moved, hadn’t even started to fill you up.
steve’s hips pulled back slowly, leaving just the head still wrapped in you, before plunging back in and starting up a brutal pace. his hands were gripping at your pelvis and your head was buried in the pillow at the head of your bed, fingers reaching behind you to intertwine with his own against the fat of your hips. he thrust particularly hard into one spot that had your mind reeling, almost screaming his name into the pillow and pulling forward from the pleasure of it all. steve chased you, the front of his thighs almost stuck to the back of yours with sweat. by now, he was barely even pulling out, just chasing his own thrusts deep within you as he panted above you, sloppy kisses pressed into the skin at the back of your neck. skilled fingers reached around to your clit, rubbing it in that way only steve ever managed to do it, and your legs felt like jelly under you. if it wasn’t for the way he pressed right up against your hips, you’d be on your front by now, crushed under his weight into the bed.
‘’m really, really close, baby, fuck. c’mon sweetness,’ he was rambling behind you, hips working even quicker to turn you to goo under him, melted into the mattress and taking what he gave you. you could feel it building deep in your stomach, and you just needed something else, something to push you over the edge-
‘cum for me, let’s make me a daddy,’ steve was crying out and you were cumming, thighs clenching and back arching, screams buried into the pillow and teeth clenched so hard your jaw popped. steve wasn’t long behind you; the way you gushed when you came, the vice-like grip on his leaking cock? it was all too much, and for the first time, steve harrington came inside the love of his life, hot and gasping and flashes of you with a baby bump running through his mind. carefully, gently, he pulled out, cock softening against his thigh and then growing half hard again. your pussy was swollen, his cum leaking out of your hole. unthinking, steve reached up to push it back in with two fingers, rubbing your ass with the other hand when you flinched away from the stimulation.
‘sorry, baby, just gotta make sure it takes.’
you rolled onto your back, and he couldn’t help but smile at the way you rolled your eyes at him.
‘told you stevie, gonna be at least a week until i’m all fertile and shit again.’
he flopped on top of you, grinning.
‘i guess we’re gonna have to practise over,’ a kiss to your cheek.
‘and over.’ your shoulder.
‘and over.’ your nose.
‘and over again.’ finally, your lips. ‘i love you.’
#Steve Harrington#Steve Harrington smut#Steve Harrington x reader#Steve Harrington x you#Steve Harrington x f!reader#Steve Harrington x female reader#Steve Harrington imagine#Steve Harrington fluff#Steve Harrington angst#Steve Harrington blurb#Steve Harrington headcanon#Steve stranger things#Steve the hair harrington#stranger things smut#stranger things imagine#stranger things blurb#stranger things angst#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#Steve Harrington fanfic#Steve Harrington fanfiction#stranger things masterlist#stranger things vol 2#stranger things s4#stranger things steve
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~Ghost of the Past~
=Part Two=
Warning: Violence, death, graphic scenes.
Cleared area your ass. You saw three of your former team. Jamie was standing out in the open. He was dazed stumbling around while holding his gut. He didn't see the enemy, but you did. You crash tackled the poor lad behind a piece of felled debris as bullets rained down upon you. You felt a hot pain travers up your arm. You checked to see only a bullet graze. Jamie on the other hand.
“Fuck,” You whispered seeing his spitting shoulder hit. And the hole in his lower stomach. Readjusting you gun you peeked over your cover taking out a few of the advancing enemies. At your returned fire they all moved for cover. It gave you a really short amount of time to bind Jamie shoulder with a pressure bandage. You checked in the bullet had gone straight though his stomach only to see it hadn't. You returned fire again before stuffing gaze into the hole. All the while Jamies head rolled around with disoriented pained grunts.
“This is Doc. Requesting medevac,” you spoke into the coms. What greeted you was static.
"It's gonna be ok Jamie, I got you mate," you said.
“This is doc, is anyone there?” you spoke again. Your eyes widened when the click of metal got you attention. A grenade had landed beside you. Faster than your brain could comprehend you grabbed it chucking it back over, throwing your body on Jamie. The blast rocked you slightly, throwing all manner of barbies and dust over you.
“THIS IS DOC! IS ANYONE THERE OVER!?” You yelled into the comm. Across the way you saw your other old team members pinned behind a building.
“I NEED assistance. Im pinned down,” you spoke again.
“Well, this sounds familiar,” Adam's cold voice invaded your ears. Turning the swirling storm of panic into a sharped edged blade. He had cut your comms of from everyone else's. Set up a line just for the two of you.
“The fuck is happening Adam. You said this area was cleared,” you hissed.
“Oh did I. Must have been my mistake,” he muttered.
“I need assistance. Jamies down,” you hated him, you wanted to kill him. but you hoped that he still had some good in him. if not for you then for Jamie.
“Pity, sorry can't help you. It looks mighty dangerous over there,” your eyes wafted over the battlefield. You found Adam standing a way away. With a shit eating grin on his face. Half of your team was with him. They were moving away from the action, towards the exit. the panic stabbed right through your heart at the all to familiar sight.
“What the fuck are you doing Adam?” you asked. They were leaving you.
“We got orders to retreat. But it seems like they have a comm blocker. Can't get into touch with team bravo,” your blood ran cold, panic sweeping the breath from you lungs. Bravo team. The boys.
“Looks like our intel was wrong to. Seems to be a lot more bogies than originally thought,” he stated a cackling chuckle leaving his lips.
“Good luck Maddog,” he smiled giving you a mock salute before turning and leaving. If it was any other situation you would have taken a moment to let the situation sink in. But this was battle, one moment could mean the difference between life and death.
“GET OVER HERE!” You yelled across the way your old team members grateful for the sanctuary of orders in their blind panic. Rising up you provided covered as they rushed towards you.
“Mad dog,” Anna greeted your briefly. She swallowed unsure of what you were about to do. She was surprised when you placed you hand on her shoulder.
"You hit?" you still wore the same concerned frown you always had. She didn't understand why you still cared for her. Not after what she did. She numbly shock her head the other doing so as well.
“Take him and get your asses out of here,” you ordered nodding down to Jamie.
“Yes ma'am,” she nodded. You pulled a pin of a grenade and threw it.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you sprinted down the hallways. Everybody you passed you searched for familiar features. Soap's mohawk. Ghosts mask. Prices hat. Gaz cap. It was a brutal game of tag between dread and relief. Then you saw them. Standing around a group of captured soldiers like it was a Tuesday lunch.
“Comms are on the fritz,” Gaz announced.
“Anyone got Doc's location?” Price asked.
“I'm here!” You announced. They all turned to you taking in your appearance. you were covered in dust. Sweat lines dragging through it like art.
“You look like shite,” Price grinned at you. Relife, utter relief filled you. They were ok. They were alive.
“Your hit,” Soap took notice of the blood first as they moved towards you.
“Just a scratch. We've got orders to retreat,” you stated. The boys frowned.
“But we completed the mission?” Gaz stated. They had. Lucky bastards cleared out the whole base themselves.
“Those are the orders. Comms are being blocked,” you stated.
“Alright, let's get going lads,” Price announced. You quickly made your way from the base and back to the transport. As you drove back you couldn't help but stare at the boys. Your heart was still pounding. The boys were joking about something or other. You looked down to Ghost hand that rested against his thigh. You were suddenly overcome by the need to see if it was real. If they were real. To make sure it wasn't some fantasies you had conjured up in your head. Ever so slightly your fingertips took ahold of the lose fabric. A deep breath left your lips as you held it tightly. He was there. They all were. Throwing you head back you rested it against the side of the truck tears glistening between your lashes. Ghost looked down at your hand, at your spaced breathing pattern. At the slight pinch of your brows as you finger clung so desperately onto his sleeve. Feeling pressure on you left side you opened your eyes to see Ghost had pressed himself against you. Your relished in the warmth and reassurance it gave you. It was subtle, unnoticed by the other boys. But it grounded you. Pulling your head out of the 'what ifs' to the now.
When you got back to base your eyes locked in on Adam. He was laughing with his team. When they noticed you guys, they seemed shocked. Understandable, not many could do what your boys could.
“So, they weren't joking when they said you guys meant business. Gotta say I'm impressed,” Adam stated with a wide blown smile. Your team stopped in front of them.
You didn't.
It took three large strides to close the distance between you. And only a second for you to pull your knife from its holster and shove it against Adams neck, your other hand gripping his collar to hold him stead.
“THE FUCK YOU PLAYING AT HUH!?” You screamed.
“Whoah hey hehehe,” he held his hands up in surrender.
“DOC STAND DOWN!” Price's order went over your head.
“I swear to god, anyone touches me, and I'll cut his throat,” you threat was real. You wanted them to give you an excuse to do it.
“Its alright Maddog. The fights over. Your safe,” Adam went to put a hand on your shoulder. His movements only stopped when you pushed the knife flush against his neck slicing the skin ever so slightly.
“How fucked up in the head are you? What makes you think you can get away with this huh?” you asked. The sly smile pulled over his lips.
“I dont know what you mean,” he said innocently. Fury, utter fury raged within you. You could feel you hand wanting to move. Wanting to slice his neck open and watching him bleed out infront of you.
“Y/N,” Price called softly. You were breathing erratically as you hand shock. Most thought you would actually do it. You flinched lightly as a hand encompassed your own. You looked to the side to see Ghost. His gaze soft.
“Its alright. We got you,” he whispered softly. His hand trailed up your arm. to your hand which he gave a soft squeeze before pulling it back. He gently took the knife from your grasp. And you let him.
“Good choice,” Adam swallowed. Your fist snapped out cracking into his face sending him on his ass. Ghost wrapped his arms around you pulling you back where Soap took the other side of you.
“Enough!” Price yelled stepping between you two.
“I don't give a fuck what you do to me. But the next time you throw my boys under the bus like that again it will be a bullet I put though your face. Not my fucking fist,” you seethed glaring dagger at him. He chuckled whipping the blood from his broken nose.
“And that's why she's called mad dog,” he uttered getting to his feet with the help of his men. Some which held guilty looks.
“Keep that one on a short leash captain. She can tend to wander,” you tried to get a second hit in, but the boys held you back.
“Walk it off sargent!” Price deamned pointing you in the opposite direction.
“Yeah, walk it off,” Adam tainted. Price turned to glare at him.
“You stay the fuck away from her you understand boy," Price got into his face talking to his as if he would scold a child. And Adam hated that. Ripping yourself form the boys grasp you turned on you heel and stomped away.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You were all informed that another mission would take place the day after. After the whole ordeal the boys had looked for you. They were worried about you. You had completely disappeared. Nobody knew where you were. You hadn't signed out of the base. So, Gaze tracked your phone.
So there you stood hidden in the bushes as you stared at a certain grave not to far from you. You heard the boys walk up to your side. You were wearing a hood an a medical mask to cover your features.
“Visiting an old friend?” Price asked. They had all lost someone special to them. Whether it be a fellow soldier or family. You had hardly talked about your past, so they didn't know who you lost.
“You guys shouldn't be here,” you whispered softly. Then from the hill emerged two people. And older man in his late fifties. Under his arm sat a bottle of whiskey. He had lanky legs and a beer belly. With a kind old smile on his face.
“Come on. You know how she gets when were late,” he called behind him.
“Coming dad,” a teenage ran up to him. He had tosseled brown hair and stood just about as tall as his dad.
“Who are they?” Gaz asked.
“My family,” you whispered.
“You sure lass. Height dosent really add up,” Soap joked softly.
“What can I say. I lost the gene lottery,” you shrugged.
“You gonna go say hi?” Price asked.
“No,” you whispered solemnly. Getting the message that you wanted to be quiet they all slipped into silence.
“Still ordering me around huh?” A woman with olive skin and black hair walked up to them. A steak of silver shone in her perfect updo.
“We were married for eighteen years. I think I deserve some penance for my sentence,” the two smiled at each other. The divorce had been amicable, and they had become good friends after it.
“Goodmorning sweetheart,” you father called softly a solemn smile gracing his features as they approached the grave.
“Sup cunt,” Your brother stated earning a slap from your mother.
“Dont be mean. Go on tell her what you did,” she encouraged him.
“So rember when you said I had a knack for engine and stuff. And I laughed and said I was just gonna become a millionaire,” he trailed o scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I got a scholarship to this really good school. Everything paid for. Dad was really happy about that,” the joke had your family smiling.
“It turns out you were right. I'm doing well. Really well. Skipped a grade. And I'm really enjoying it,” he stated.
“Got his cherry popped to,” you father said earning a blush from you brother.
"Her names Ella. Sweet little thing. Shes got him by the balls," your mother stated.
"Mum," he groaned with a heavy blush.
“I meet a man. His name is Greg. I think I'll being him next time,” your mother said.
“He's a cunt,” you father stated.
“He's better in bed than your father,” she stated. You smiled as they slipped into their usual banter. The insults having the weight of jack shit.
“Found this hidden in your little secret compartment,” you dad tapped his nose with a knowing look. The boys watched on as they talked to the grave like it was an actual person.
“Have a drink with your old man yeah?” he suggested. The drink was passed around as they all poured some in their cups. An extra cup was set atop the grave.
“To our little girl. Shortest little shit I've ever meet,” they cheer.
"Happy birthday darling," you mother said. It was silent after that. Your family moved to hold each other as they mourned. Tears falling to the freshly cut grass.
“She would have been so proud of you,” you mother whispered running her hand through your brothers hair.
“She would have been proud of us all. Thats just how she is,” he whispered back. You watched as they drank and talked about there lives. What they had been up to. The sun had begun to set when they decided to leave. Your bother lingered slightly tears rushing down his face.
“I miss you bitch,” he mumbled knocking his knuckles on the edge of the grave. The boys knew that move. You would do that to them wherever they went in for a fist bump. He turned and walked away. With a heavy heart you watched them leave.
“Why didn't you say hello?” Soap asked. You didn't answer, instead you walked up to the grave and took the drink in hand. You swirled it around watching the car pull away. The boys slowly walked up to you examining the grave.
Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.
Beloved daughter, friend and soldier.
“The fuck is this?” Soap asked in shock. They were all shocked, but they quickly put two and two together.
“It was part of the deal,” you rolled the words on your touge.
“What deal?” Price asked. You wanted to tell them. No, you needed to tell them. You couldn't go on another mission with the bloody hells. You had gotten lucky. Extremely lucky. Sure, telling them the truth might put you in a dangerous situation, but you would do it to protect them. And you trusted them.
“Way back there was a mission. Things went south. Adam got his hands on some valuable information. I stayed behind to make sure everyone was safe. And when I went to regroup with them,” you trailed off your throat becoming tight.
“They didn't wait for me. They left. Leaving me in a deep hole of shit. I was captured. Tortured for the information Adam had stolen. When they realized I wouldn't break they proposed a deal. The information for me. Adam didn't agree,” you recalled the events.
“The information wasn't intergyral, but it did make him rich. I don't know what he did with it. Probably sold it to a third party. When I realized, nobody was coming to save me, I got myself out. Came back here only to find out that they had all given reports that they had seen me gunned down. That they confirmed I was dead. Head office chucked it up to some bull shit Mirical. Having escaped I had a lot of heat on me. I had fucked around with some pretty important people. Friendly and otherwise. Turns out a lot of important people had their hands all over that mission. They went after my family. I made a deal with the military. In exchange for my families safely I would become there lacky,” you said nodding to the grave. “If I stayed quiet about it all,” you added.
“By all official records I am dead. Only a few choices military know otherwise. They thought I was a nifty little card to hold. Someone they could send where every they want to do whatever they wanted. No red strings attached. Someone that technically didn't exist. A ghost,” you chuckled bitterly.
"I was actually doing their dirty work when we first meet. I was surprised when they gave the green light to join the 141," you took a sip of the drink.
“In the end I was supposed to die on that mission. They used my family as leverage to insure I had,” you whispered looking deep into the dark liquid.
“Why are you telling us now? Wy not before?” Price asked solemnly.
“He threated you guys, told me to behave,” you admitted.
“So why tell us?” Ghost asked.
“Because I'm scared,” you admitted honestly. Your breath shock as you turned to them your eyes welling with tears.
“On that mission. He cut the comms. He lied bout the numbers. He sent you guys into a trap and he fucking smirked at me while he did it,” your hands trembled as they gripped the drink.
“I was so scared I had lost you guys,” you said.
“I was scared to lose another family,” you cried. It meant a lot to the boys to hear that. That word. Family. That exactly what they were to you. And that's exactly what you were to them.
"But were here love. Were all alright,” Gaz tried to lighten you up.
“By sheer dumb luck!” you snapped.
“I know I might lose you one day. I've known that for a long time. Were soldiers. That comes with the uniform, but I'll be dammed if I let that fucker be the one that does it,” you huffed. Silence washed over you as you looked each of them in the eye stopping at Ghost. “You guys mean too much to me,’" you added. "So please. Don't send us on another mission with him,” you begged turning to Price.
“He can't know I told you about it ither,” you added. Price walked up to you his expression deathly serious.
“Then why would he risk you coming back here?” he asked. You shrugged frustrated with it all.
“I-I don't know. I don't know if he's goanna hurt my family. If he's gonna hurt, you. If he wants to finish the job he started?” you gestured to him. There it was again. That anxiety. Seeing the start of your panic Price stepped forward again.
“Come er,” you were slightly surprised when he pulled you into his chest. He held you firmly as he tucked you head under his chin.
“It's gonna be alright love. You've done well,” he whispered. It felt like the hugs your father used to give. You reached up gripping the back of his shirt and hugging him tightly the tears free falling.
“We got you,” he whispered.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
On the drive back you were sandwiched in the back with Ghost and Soap. You had been silent since the graveyard. Which wasn't like you.
“Can we get hungry jacks?” You asked. It was a relief to the boys to hear that. At least you were still hungry.
“Yeah, we can do that,” Price nodded. It was quite funny watching price try and order for the whole car. Especially because the drive thru guy couldn't understand there accents half the time. And Soap yelling from the back just made it worse. After getting the food you picked away at it happily as you drove back to base. Ghost paused as he felt a wight drop against his shoulder. He looked down at you to see you fast asleep. You mouth open mid chew. A burger in one hand and a drink in the other. Soap smiled when he noticed taking a quick picture before taking the food from your hands. When the car stopped, they all piled out, except Ghost and you.
“Coming?” Soap asked bending down through the door.
“I'll stay a little bit,” Ghost whispered. Soap smiled knowingly giving a nod and silently closing the door.
It was two hours before you stirred awake.
“We here?” you asked finishing chewing the remnants of the burger.
“Yeah,” Ghost murmured getting out of the car. You followed after him frowning when you saw a wet patch on his shoulder. Whipping the dribbled form the corner of your lips you shrugged.
"You got a wet patch there," you stated.
"No I don't," he stated.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The next day you and the boys sat down decided on what to do. When you explained in more detail about what went down in the mission the boys were furious.
And lets just say that the 141 gets even.
The mission involved clearing out a safe house of sorts. A back up base. During the next mission you walked into a room, gun raised with Gaz on point. You were right behind him. Everything was going perfectly. Till it wasn't.
The movement was so quick you only saw what had happened when you turned. Gaz stood, with Adam behind him. A gun pressed against his temple. Terror took ahold of you as you mad eye contact with Gazs own fear filled pupils. You paused in the doorway. Adam didn't know the other two were there.
“Let him go Adam, lower the gun” you demanded. Price and Ghost pressed themselves against the wall.
“Come on Maddog. You know I can't do that,” he stated. You glanced out the doorway as Price held up five fingers. He was asking how many were in the room. You glanced around. It was only Adam.
“Looking for your friends?” he asked. Price had told him the team would split in two. It was part of your plan. Price slowly put his fingers down.
“Of course,” You answered when Price got to one. Price turned to Ghost giving him hand signs before nodding him off. He looked back at you tapping his watch.
Buy some time. They were your orders. The comms was open so you could hear Ghost rapid footsteps.
“Unlike you I know they have my back,” you said.
“Cute. Drop the gun,” he ordered.
“Or I can shoot you,” You suggested.
“I know you're a good shoot but that's cutting it a bit close huh?” he asked sliding further behind Gaz. He was right. You ran the risk of hitting Gaz.
“Get him Doc,” Gaz encouraged you. Your face scrunched up as Adam shock him slightly pressing the barrel painfully further into his skull. Chucking you gun to the side you glared.
“Good girl. Now on your knees,” he demanded. You obeyed.
“Put those on,” he kicked forward a pair of zip ties.
“What are you doing Adam? Whats your plan this time huh?” you asked.
“Well, this plan is a little more brutal than my last. After all I tried so hard to make it look like an accident. I knew you bleeding heart wouldn't leave that kid. I even told then to target you as well. But no, you just won't die huh? You should have just died Y/N,” he hissed. You stared at him.
Adam was more than just your former commander. He was your best friends since diapers. You had grown up together. Your bond used to be the strongest in the world. You had entered the military together, built up your carrers and skills side by side.
“What happened to you Adam?” You asked. The man before you was a shadow of the one you once loved so dearly.
“I got smart, that's what happened,” he spat.
“This isn't like you. The Adam I knew would have never sold me out for a lousy paycheck,” you were buying time. But you were also trying to reason with your friend.
“Would you just quit it. I've always been on the bottom run. Always poor. Do you know how differently they looked at me with my raggy shoes?” he asked.
“So you sold me out to get rich then?” you asked.
"Wow. Smart you are. And no, I didn't sell you out. You were just a chess piece. A tool to get what I wanted” he said.
“You know that's not true,” you murmered. You could see it, the conflict inside him, however small it was it was still there.
“Please, just put down the gun,” you begged. For a second he saw you, only a younger you. And instead of begging to put his gun down you were begging him to stop shooting you with a water gun. You wore such a bright smile. Perhaps he had loved you once. Along time ago. But that side of him had died a long time ago.
"I really should have killed you that day," he admitted.
"Then why didn't you?" you asked.
"Because I was weak. I let you live because I didn't have the guts to kill you myself," he hissed.
"Thats not a problem now," Your eye's widened as the gun turned to you. The window shattered as Ghost emerged from it having sung down from the higher level. The distraction allowing Gaz to shove Adam back. All the while you pulled your handgun from its hoister and pulled the trigger.
Two shots' still rung out.
Pain split through your left chest as the bullet cleaved through you.
“GAH!” you hit the ground. Adam body following shortly after a bullet hole sizzling between his eyes, his brains splattered over the wall.
“DOC!” Your vision blurred with tears as you hand was forced away from your wound.
“Fuck,” Ghost grunted as he ripped you vest from you. With your luck the bullet had just missed the vest. Since you were still gasping for breath, you gathered it hadn't hit your lungs or vital organs, but it stung like a bitch. You were jostled up into a seated position. Where your sanity somewhat returned to you.
“Theres and exit wound,” Ghost stated.
“FUCKING HELL!” you yelled as they started to shove gauz into the hole.
“Gaz?” you blindly searched for him.
“Right here Doc,” he said giving your leg a squeeze. You gaze focused to see them crowded around you. Price standing guard while Soap tended to the wound and Ghost held you up.
“That really hurts,” you chuckled a laugh before grunting again.
“You are one lucky little fucker,” Price huffed.
“Who me?” you asked.
“Can you walk?” he asked as Soap finished tying off the bandage. His eyes glanced down at the bandages that quickly became soaked in blood. He didn't like how fast it had happened.
“Walk? I fell like a running a marathon,” you joked.
“Ghost,” he nodded to Ghost who nodded back.
“Let's move,” he said. With Ghost taking most of your weight you started making you way from the base. With a fleeting look to the dead corps, you felt your eyes close.
You had passed out somewhere between leaving the room and getting back to the transport.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
While you were unconscious Price made some bullshit excuse for Adams death. The excuse worked well. Nobody questioned anything. After all missions go south all the time. He was simply listed as a casualty. That was all the respect he deserved.
When it was time to go home you at in the plane your shoulder in a sling. You were on strict orders not to use it for a bit. Your mind reeled with Adam dead gaze. At the moment you took aim and pulled the trigger. Did you want to kill him. Never. Would you have done it save on of your boys. Defiantly, without a moment's hesitation.
“Y/N,” you stood as you saw Jamie run towards you stopping at the plane ramp. Well waddle as best he could in his state.
“What's up kid?” you asked.
“Thankyou, for everything,” he yelled as the plane started up. He was a good kid.
You gave him one of your signature smiles. The one you always gave him before everything went to shit.
“Look after yourself alright,” you yelled.
“You have friends here Y/N. Whenever you need. We owe you that much!” he called. You nodded.
“Goodby Jamie,” you called as the ramp lifted. Silently you walked over to your seat struggling with your buckle.
“Need help?” Ghost asked. You nodded. Reaching over he quickly buckled you in pulling the strap tight.
“You know I've been wondering. Why Maddog?” Soap asked. A melancholy smile graced your lips.
“I bit the finger off the doctor that was giving me a shot. Adam was there for it. The doc called me a mad dog. Name kinda stuck,” you shrugged.
“So you did bight his finger off?” Ghost asked.
“I did. Rember that next time you fuckers try and give e a shoot,” you said clacking your teeth together in a biting motion.
“God help your future partner,” Soap shock his head. You all chuckle.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
When you were back at base you sat out on the little patio a beer in hand. You were simply thinking. about it all. You wondered if you had done something different if it would have changed everything.
Ghost silently walked out stopping by your side to offer a cigarette. You shock your head.
"He was more than a team leader to you, wasn't he?" Ghost asked.
"How did you know?" you asked.
"The look of regret you had when you saw his corps," he stated simply.
"We grew up together. Thought I was gonna marry him for a bit," you whispered.
"You did what needed to be done," was he trying to reassure you?
"Doesn't make it any less painful," you whispered.
"I faced something similar. Had to end two of my teammates. Their brains had been corrupted. They had changed," he began telling his story.
"Did you ever forgive yourself?" you asked.
"I'm not sure," he answered honestly.
"Well, I have no regrets," you stated.
"Really?" he asked.
"I'll never forgive myself for killing him. But I'll never regret it," You stated standing up and finishing your drink.
"Whys that?" he asked.
"Because no one messes with my boys and gets away with it," you stated with a cheeky smile patting his should.
"Thats for trying to reassure me. Ya big softy," you smiled brightly.
"I'm not soft," he grunted.
"Yaha of course you're not," You cooed in a baby voice.
"I will end you," he threated making you laugh.
That night you and Ghost would drink till the early hours of the morning, simply talking.
"We should get to bed Ghost," you stated standing upon your wobbly legs.
"It's Simon," you head snapped around to him.
"What?" you asked.
"My name. Its Simon. You can call me that if you like. But not in front of anyone that's not the team," he said.
"Well Simon. Its officially nice to meet you. My names Y/N," you said holding you hand out for him to shake. He shook took you hand covering it completely from view.
"Big ass hand mother fucker," you grumbled drunkenly before trotting off. Simon following after you making sure you didn't run into anything.
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Steve Harrington x fem!Reader
Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection
7,470 Words
A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤
Steve’s not sure how it even worked.
He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.
Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.
Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.
And now, he's a little bit in over his head.
Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.
It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.
He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?
One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.
“Just can’t stay away, can you?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”
“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”
Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.
Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.
“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”
“I’ve got a date.”
And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.
Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?
When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.
“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”
Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.
“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”
Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?
But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.
And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.
“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”
“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.
“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”
Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.
“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.
“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”
Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?
And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.
That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.
By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.
To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.
And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.
He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.
And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.
He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.
“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”
The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.
“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”
“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.
The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.
The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.
“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.
“I don’t want this to be over yet.”
Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.
“I don’t either.”
Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.
It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.
You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.
“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.
You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.
Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”
Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.
He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”
You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.
He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”
He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.
“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”
“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”
You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.
“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”
You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.
You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.
Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight, Steve.”
Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.
He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.
It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.
It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.
He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.
“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.
It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.
Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.
“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.
It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.
But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.
This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.
He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.
“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.
“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.
It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”
“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.
He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”
You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”
“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”
That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”
His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.
“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”
Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.
Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.
You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.
You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.
You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”
“No?”
“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.
“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.
“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”
“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.
“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”
“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”
“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”
He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.
“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise.
~~~
“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.
“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”
“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.
“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”
She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”
She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.
“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”
The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.
“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”
“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”
“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”
Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”
Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”
“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”
He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”
You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.
“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”
His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin.
“I’ve never been freer.”
Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.
You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.
“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.
“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”
“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”
“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”
He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.
“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.
“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”
He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”
“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.
“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.
He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.
He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.
There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.
Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me.”
And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.
He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.
He can handle action.
There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.
He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.
He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.
But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.
Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”
Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.
“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”
Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.
Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.
“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”
Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.
In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”
He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong.
For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.
“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”
He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”
Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded?
“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.
“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.
“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.
“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.
There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.
He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.
You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.
You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.
You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.
“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.
He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.
He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.
Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.
Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.
He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.
There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.
Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.
His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.
It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.
You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows.
You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.
“I love you, Steve Harrington.”
“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.
THE END
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#cece writes#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things smut
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3 with james potter pretty please <333
3. “Tell me to leave and I’ll never bother you again.”
.
James Potter fucked up.
He wasn’t exactly sure how he had fucked up, but he knew he fucked up monumentally when you came down for breakfast, slumped down a few seats away from him and totally blanked him.
He played it off as a rough morning at first. After all, you were never a morning person and you seemed pleased enough with him last night when you sat curled under a blanket with him as your friends laughed and joked around you into the early hours of the morning.
He was clearly just overreacting.
But then your shared potions class after lunch came around and you still weren’t talking to him. You weren’t talking to anyone.
“You must’ve done something to piss her off,” Sirius said to him, watching as his best friend slumped back against the grass as he glared above at the cloudless sky.
“No shit,” James grumbled.
“Have you tried talking to her?” Remus asked, propped on his elbows with the book he was previously reading abandoned to the side.
“Well…no,” James murmured, clearing his throat a little when Sirius snorted. “But she won’t even look at me!”
“And how will poor Prongs ever live on when his little girlfriend won’t even smile at him,” Sirius teased, reaching over to poke his cheek only for James to bat his hand away.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” the boy whined helplessly, though both boys sitting next to him knew well enough how much James wished that weren’t true. He just hadn’t quite gained the courage to ask you out yet—how truly Gryffindor of him.
“Just ask her, mate,” Remus suggested with a shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
James established that there were at least three outcomes that could come from asking you, and each was just as bad as the last. One: you wouldn’t even acknowledge his question. Two: you would hex him and then go back to pretending he didn’t exist. Three: you would laugh at the fact he even cared to ask, hex him and then go back to pretending he didn’t exist.
Each left James completely unsatisfied with your sudden distance and a bitter taste in his mouth at the mere idea he may lose you. And despite all these outcomes racing through his head, James still found himself standing outside your dorm, muttering to himself before he bit the bullet and knocked.
It took thirty seconds for you to open the door and they had to be the longest thirty seconds of his life. However, when you did open the door, James barely gave you a chance to properly take in who was even standing across from you before he began rambling.
“Listen, I totally get that you might hate my guts right now and that maybe you wanna hex me but I just need to say this before I lose the chance because it would kill me if you didn’t know that I am so sorry for whatever I have done to make you try avoid me or whatever else it is—”
“James.”
“—but I really like you and this is totally not the time to say it, like at all even and I just—”
“James.”
“—I really wanted you to know that if there is any chance you could forgive me or even tell me what I did so I can rectify it—”
“JAMES!”
The boy stopped suddenly, his cheeks burning red as he took in your expression for the first time and held back his wince. “Tell me to leave and I’ll never bother you again. I promise.”
“What are you going on about?” you asked, still feeling bleary and fuzzy from the nap you were taking minutes ago, and not finding much help in the annoyingly bright torches in the corridor.
“I–” James cleared his throat. “You were angry with me today and I just wanna tell you I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done.”
Your brows furrowed together. “James, I’m not angry with you.”
He blinked. “You’re not?”
“No, I’m not,” you sighed.
“But…you ignored me all day,” he murmured, looking a bit like a kicked puppy with his pouted lips.
“I didn’t mean to,” you explained, feeling your face softening and your annoyance from him waking you up quickly melting away. “I just…I woke up with a migraine and it wasn’t getting any better no matter what I did. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, James.”
His lips parted with a soft ‘oh’.
“If it’s any consolation, I was ignoring everyone,” you offered with a weak smile.
“That’s good,” James nodded, eyes widening when he realised what he said and quickly scrambled to take back his word. “Not about the migraine! Not that at all! I just meant….fuck, love, I meant about you not being angry at me—”
“James,” you called softly, a hint of a smile on your lips.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” James asked helplessly.
“Cuddle with me?” you asked in a sweet voice that he could never say no to. “I was trying to take a nap but it would help if I had a wizard who’s always ridiculously hot laying beside me.”
James grinned. “You think I’m hot, love?”
“I take it back. I can nap myself.”
“No take-backs, sweetheart. Now budge over, I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you.”
.
#james potter#marauders#harry potter#hp#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders fic#marauders oneshot#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fic#harry potter oneshot#hp x reader#hp x you#hp x y/n#hp fic#hp one shot
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Escapist Media Recs?
Going to bed soon but would love some recommendations of “safe” TV shows/movies/youtube channels and/or confirmation that they are “safe.” The hardest part of dealing with everything is constantly feeling like I’m in defense mode or don’t know who’s about to gut punch me.
My criteria for a “safe” escapist media are:
Has not said anything about the conflict and (if YouTubers) has not indicated anything about the conflict through their platforms
OR
If they HAVE spoken, they acknowledged pain of ALL civilians in the levant.
OR
Has not attacked/demonized/fomented hatred against Jews or Muslims or Arabs or Palestinians
Has not allowed hateful rhetoric against anyone on their platforms
Has expressed sorrow or sympathy for Jews or Israelis without adding a qualifier of BUT afterwards
So far, KoreanEnglishman/Jolly have seemed safe. I know Rev Chris posted something nice about Israelis and Palestinians and wanting peace.
Drawfee is pending until I can see how the livestream goes.
Are the Try Guys still ok?
Grace Helbig has been safe so far but she’s not purely escapism as she is very much Going Thru Stuff this year. But I’ve been watching her for ages and she’s wonderful.
Is it safe to watch Abbot Elementary?
Any other Recs???
I really just need to watch or engage with something where I don’t have anxiety about whether or not I’m gonna find out the people who write/act/produce the content are gonna turn around and start spouting dogwhistles and tropes.
What’s been calming for y’all? What have you found that gives you a moment of fucking peace?
I’ve read 13 books so far this year already. But i really just want to sit and watch something and turn my brain off.
Anti-Zionists, DNI. I know your feelings on this and about me. You’ve made your position clear. Not looking for a debate right now.
Just looking for something that takes my mind of all *gestures broadly* this.
#jumblr#no other tags#cuz I desperately want to not interact with anyone hostile#and as I’ve recently made clear#my irl social circle is basically nonexistent rn#and so I need to Ask The Internet and People Who Get It#seriously#If people have managed to shut the eff up#and just not mention politics#I would be thrilled#I don’t wanna fall in love with a character and find out the person who plays them actually thinks that every single Israeli kills babies
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Bad For Business: Level Four
Steve Harrington x fem!reader
[2.2K] An enemies to lovers au. Arcade coworkers, who love to hate each other, get too competitive about Dig Dug and share a mutal annoyance for the kids that like to pester them. Choose your own adventure by picking an option at the end of the chapter.
There was a boy at the desk asking for you.
He was tall and a little wild looking, unruly dark curls and tattoos peeking out from under the leather and denim he wore, all ripped off sleeves and silver rings. He was smirking at Steve like he knew something he didn’t, like was in on some sort of secret.
Steve didn’t like him.
“She’s on her break,” Steve told him, eyes narrowed like he couldn’t help himself. “Went to the store or something.”
Steve expected that to be the end of it, but the boy with all the rings just grinned, dimples on show before he hoisted himself onto the desk. “I’ll wait,” he said, too cheery. “I’m Eddie, by the way. Munson.”
Steve nodded, keeping his distance as he pretended to tidy away loose rota sheets, used up ticket stubs and a piece of paper Robin and Argyle had been drawing progressively larger dicks on. One had wings and a halo.
“Yeah, I know,” Steve frowned. He was still suspicious. Why was the local drug dealer coming in and asking for you? The arcade was quiet enough that Steve didn’t have an excuse to leave, and honestly, he wanted to stick around and see. “Just didn’t realise you guys… knew each other.”
Eddie looked smug in an awful way, still acting like he was clued into something Steve didn’t have any idea about. Like he was trying not to laugh at him. The longer haired boy tilted his head to the side, all charm and bravado, still smiling. “Oh yeah.” He nodded, enthusiastic. “We know each other real well. Super close.”
You hadn’t mentioned Eddie before. Not in front of Steve. Fuck, you’d never mentioned any sort of boyfriend at all. But then Steve remembered nights that it rained, when he’d jog to his car only to see you run past him, jacket over your head and clambering into an old van, the windows dark enough that you could never see the driver.
Maybe he’d been kidding himself all those times when he assumed it was your dad.
“Oh,” fuck, is that all he could say? “Cool.”
There was a beat of silence between them, smothered in arcade game jingles and alarm bells that announced a new winner, but the air was heavy enough to be felt, thick with a tension Steve wasn’t used to.
Was this what being threatened felt like?
No. No. Steve didn't have anything to feel threatened about. So why was he still talking?
“I guess - I mean - well, I just never knew she had a boyfriend.” Steve cleared his throat, all awkward and he found himself standing a little straighter, chest puffed out, chin held high.
Thank fuck Robin wasn’t on shift, ‘cause Eddie was laughing and suddenly Steve felt about three feet shorter. What the fuck was this guys problem?
“I didn’t know you gossiped about your love lives, Harrington,” Eddie shot back. His smile was wolfish and it looked like a challenge, it felt like a dare. “You interested in who she’s hangin’ out with outside of work?”
“What?” It was jarring, the way Steve’s stomach dropped. A new kind of nervousness twisting around his guts, a heat that crawled from his stomach to his chest. His cheeks felt too warm. “What? No. Jesus, no, I just— we’re not even friends.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it still tasted like one. Bitter and acidic, like swallowing a too big pill without water. It got stuck in his throat, made him wince.
Eddie tutted, leaning back in his hands, taking up the majority of space on the counter top. His legs were swinging, rips across his knees in his black jeans, a chain hanging from his belt looks, glinting in the neon lights. He looked like he was having far too much fun.
“That’s a shame,” Eddie twisted his lips, big eyes looking all sad, acting up like he was on stage or something. “She’s real sweet, isn’t she?”
Steve scoffed, a choked out laugh that made Eddie’s lips twitch up. Steve busied himself with more loose papers, bundling together things that weren’t supposed to be filed with each other, name badges and empty chocolate wrappers stuck between faxes.
“Uh, sure, maybe,” Steve wrinkled his nose, squinting at the other boy. “I don’t know. She’s never, uh, all that sweet to me.”
And then Eddie was laughing, a full, bright cackle of a laugh and Steve was once again left feeling like he didn’t know the full joke. But he didn’t get to ask what he’d missed, what was so funny, ‘cause a kid who could hardly see over the desk approached him, a sticky hand full of equally sticky tickets that he wanted to swap for some knock off Star Wars toy. Disgruntled, Steve fussed with the glass cabinet where they kept all the ‘prizes’, his gaze flickering between Eddie and the door.
Surely you’d be back soon. Right? To see your boyfriend.
When the kid was gone, happily clutching his ‘nightsaber’ (even Steve knew that was wrong), Eddie was watching him again.
“She’s pretty, right?”
Steve froze. “What?” Was this some kind of trick? Who the fuck goes ‘round asking other dudes if they think their girlfriend is pretty? “I don’t— I’ve never—”
Eddie was grinning. Again. That Cheshire Cat smile, white teeth flashing somewhat threateningly. Steve didn’t know what the fuck was going on. Was this about last week? The powercut? Did you go home and tell your boyfriend how close Steve got to you, how he held your hand and for once in his goddamn life, Steve Harrington didn’t wanna argue with you?
“You don’t think she’s cute?”
Nothing had happened. Nothing ever would’ve. It couldn’t. You hated him, and Steve hated you. Right? Right.
“Look, dude, I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m not trying to hit on your girl, alright?” Someone got a new high score on the pinball machine across from the desk and an alarm rang, tickets flying out of the dispenser, lights flashing red and green. It felt like a warning. “She— we— we don’t talk, alright? Not like that, god, we’re not friends, okay?”
Eddie didn’t really seem to believe him, but Steve was more than relieved when the boy shrugged and slid off of the counter, dimples on show, beaming at him. He dusted his hands off like he’d completed whatever task he’d come to do before dropping a set of keys in front of Steve.
“Tell uh, my girl, that it was a radiator leak. No biggie. Car’s out front,” another flash of a smile, too charming now. Steve’s head was spinning. “Catch you later lover boy.”
What the fuck?
Eddie made his way past a crowd of kids, neon signs lighting up his skin in shades of lime green and fuschia. He spun before he got to the door, clapping his hands together and pointing back at the other boy, like he’d just remembered something important.
Is this where Eddie threatened him? Told him to stop looking at his girlfriend and keep his hands to himself? It was a fucking powercut, it was pitch black, what was he supposed to do? Let her hurt herself? The argument was already playing out in Steve’s head, his defence at the ready.
Besides, he could take Eddie Munson, right? Sure he was pretty much the same height but Steve was broader, stronger, surely. But maybe Eddie had that trailer park kid scrappiness, that feral sort of energy Dustin said Max exuded when she got ramped up—
“And, uh, Harrington?”
Steve felt his fist tighten around the countertop.
“You’ll catch more bees with honey than vinegar.” Eddie saluted, a massive skull glinting silver and pink in the light, and then with a wink, he was gone.
What the fuck?
He didn’t get a chance to ask what Eddie was on about, because Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson approached the desk, ignoring how he was standing with his mouth agape, brows knitted together in confusion. Everything was almost forgotten about as he argued with the two young boys about how no, he didn’t know when Donkey along was getting fixed, and no, he wasn’t prepared to let them poke about at the machine with Dustin’s backpack screwdriver.
And then you came back from your lunch, a flash of daylight breaking the darkness of the arcade as the door opened and shut behind you. Steve watched you hand a wrapped sandwich to Argyle before making your way around the desk to where he stood.
Maybe he was staring, maybe that’s why you were looking at him weird. Maybe that’s just the kinda gaze you gave him on the daily. You were wearing a skirt today, black and swishy around your thighs, your staff shirt cut off so it hit just above your navel, much to Murray’s despair. There was a warning written up and stuck to your locker, but you hadn’t seemed to care.
“What?”
Shit, Steve was still staring. He blinked, shrugged and turned back to the cash machine, despite no customers to serve. “What? Nothin’, god.”
You didn’t argue with him, just narrowing your eyes at his strange mood before pushing your way into the staff room. It was empty bar someone’s leftover lunch and a walkman that lay on the table and then suddenly Steve was barging his way into the too small room, a familiar set of keys in his hands. Your disco ball keychain sent rainbows over the walls, tiny glimmers of light across Steve’s cheeks, his hands, his arms.
He held them out to you, cheeks tinged pink like something had happened and you’d missed it, ‘cause he couldn’t really look you in the eye either. You stared, taking your keys from the boy slowly, like any sudden movements would scare him.
Not that you cared.
Steve spoke before you could say thanks, leaning against Murray’s abandoned desk with his hands shoved in his pockets as he cleared his throat. The air was heavy with something, more tension than you were used to, a weight to it that was more than summer air and teenage hormones.
“Your uh, your boyfriend dropped them off,” Steve was finally looking at you, brown eyes honeycomb in the too bright lights. “Said it was a broken radiator or somethin’.”
You frowned, confused at the word that was thrown out between you. Boyfriend? But once again, before you could manage to speak, Steve was talking again, all his thoughts tumbling out at once, swimming at your feet.
“Eddie Munson, huh? I didn’t— I didn’t know you were dating him. Or anyone. Not that it matters,” Steve sucked in a breath, like he was trying to catch each sentence, like he could swallow back the words he’d already said. “It doesn’t matter, obviously. Why would it? I mean, fuck, s’not like we share updates on our love lives or shit—”
“Harrington.”
“—like, I don’t care if you’re dating him, I just didn’t, like, except it, you know? Munson? Didn’t think he was your type, not that I know what your type is, s’not like I think about it or anything—”
“Steve.”
The boy stopped talking, jaw snapping shut as he looked at you, a little wide eyed. He was breathing a little heavier, hands leaving his pockets only to take through his hair.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You played with the keys in your hands, disco ball keychain clinking prettily between the silver. The reflections scattered, rainbow coloured freckles on Steve’s cheeks. “I’m not dating Eddie, we’re just friends.”
You weren't sure why you were explaining this.
“But Munson said—” Steve stopped mid sentence, the abruptness of it hanging in the air between you. Eddie hadn’t said you were dating. Eddie hadn’t called himself your boyfriend, had he? No. That was Steve’s doing. “Uh, he called you his girl… I just assumed…”
You snorted, eyes rolling in a way that held a lot more affection than what he was used to seeing when it was directed at him. You shrugged, dropping yourself into a chair at the table, eyeing Steve with a new sort of curiosity. He really was acting fucking weird.
“We’re close,” you said, copying Eddie’s words from earlier without even knowing. “Best friends, you know? Nothing… nothing more.”
“Oh.” Steve’s lips were a pretty ‘o’ shape, pink and pouting and you practically saw the gears inside his head whirring. “Right.”
“He was probably just trying to be funny,” you explained, unwrapping a chocolate bar you’d taken from your bag. You bit into it, licking caramel from your lips. “He’s not though. Despite what he thinks.”
Steve nodded, looking a little dazed, but he pushed himself off of Murray’s desk and sent you another look you couldn’t really decipher. Before he made it back to the door that led to the arcade, you stopped him, an edge to your voice that wasn’t there before.
“Did he, uh,” you winced when your voice cracked, staring at the table instead of the boy. “Did Eddie say anything else?”
Steve almost kicked the desk leg, swearing as he spun back to you, eyes darting over your face, like he was trying to work something out. He thought about Eddie’s questions.
If Steve thought you were sweet. If Steve thought you were pretty.
“What?”
‘You’ll catch more bees with honey than vinegar.’
“Did he say anything? You know, stupid shit.” You licked your lips again, chasing sugar, looking nervous.
Lover boy lover boy lover boy.
“No,” Steve lied, feeling something burn in his chest. Maybe it was the breath he was holding. “No, he didn’t say anything else.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington blurb
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For a little Eddie blurb, the word of choice is lake.
700 words of soft eddie comfort after a heartbreak coming right up. mention: you wear eddie’s shirt.
best friend (maybe more one day) eddie munson x fem!reader.
-
He found you at the lake. Hair only partially dried, one of his ratty old Hellfire tees draped over your ripped shorts, sandals tossed haphazardly beside your hip. Saw your feet where they dangled over the dock. Toes dipped into water up to the ankles.
Your shoulders were slouched, arms folded around yourself.
And his heart ached, the deep kind that burned in his gut, made him angry because he knew you were hurting. For weeks you’d talked about the guy you were seeing. Someone you met at a coffee shop, a nice guy, the kind you’d had these little hearts in your eyes for that would appear whenever you talked about them.
Until he wasn’t a nice guy. Until he stood you up. Left you by yourself at Enzo’s. A girl in a dress, with nothing but love to give to someone who never earned it to begin with. A girl who loved those around her and never expected anything back, but damn it, Eddie thought you deserved the world.
That guy hadn’t been worthy to know you, clearly. Because anyone who knew you would be able to see that a heart such as yours, with a love so deep it couldn’t be contained, should be celebrated. Appreciated. Tended to, coaxed out into the light, given the space to grow.
Eddie hated him without even knowing him. Wanted to kick his ass into another dimension, but pushed that longing aside to seek you out. To try and remind you that the things people often foolishly overlooked were the things that he loved most about you. Wanted to love you back into the light in the only way he knew how.
The only way he could.
“Knew I’d find you here,” he said, Reebok-covered feet kicking at a rock before he’d settled down beside you. “I always come here too when I need to get away.”
You said nothing, and that was fine. His fingers tapped along the wooden beams below. Tugged at the fraying hem of the shirt falling over your thigh. Still water-logged and see through from the drenched swimsuit beneath.
“Went for a swim?” He asked, tipping his head back to look up at the sky.
Eyes squinted against those harsh summer rays. Warmth seeped into his black tee, but he’d endure the elements if it meant seeing even the barest hint of a smile across your lips.
“I needed to clear my head,” you murmured softly, voice thick and hoarse with unshed tears. He heard the sniffle that followed. The shaky exhale.
“Wanna talk about it?”
He turned his head to look at you. Watched in agony at the way your face crumpled. At the further hunch of your shoulders. His fingers curled around your kneecap. Shifted you just enough to draw your attention to his face. He tried the question again, and you shook your head. Brushed at your eyes as if he hadn’t seen the glimmer of tears on your sun-warmed cheeks.
“Do you want me to hold you?”
You nodded, and like he often did when you were sad, tired, or afraid, he hiked your thighs over his lap. Curled a hand around the bends of your knees and tugged you closer. Your body sagged against his chest, your side against his front, arms around his waist.
“He’s an asshole, you know?” He whispered against your hair. Felt your forehead dip further into the space beneath his jaw. “Anyone who knows you knows your heart. And anyone who would want to break that doesn’t deserve your time.”
You burrowed closer, arms winding tighter, knees curling into his abdomen.
“You know I love you, right? All of you. Even the parts you think people would hate. I see them all and I wouldn’t trade them for anything,” he explained, tucking your head closer to his chest. “You know why?”
You inhaled shakily. “Why?”
“Because they make you you,” he whispered, feeling you smile against his skin. “And I think you’re pretty fucking great.”
You remained silent for a while, and he’d allow it for however long you needed, for however long you wanted. He’d hold you forever if you asked him to. But you exhaled and fisted his shirt in your hand, tipped your head back a bit, and beamed.
And his heart splintered, because you were like literal sunshine to him.
“Thank you, Eddie.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
-
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#lunaloveseddie#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson blurbs#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader
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The Engagement
(Luca Changretta x Shelby sister reader)
Summery: You had made it very clear already. You had absolutely no intentions of marrying Luca Changretta for a business deal.... So your brothers really should have been suspicious when you eagerly requested for them to set up a meeting for you and your fiancé one neutral ground.... And they should have been scared when you choose Alfie's shipyard as that neutral ground....
A/N: Hi Y'all! No trigger warnings besides peaky language and threats I think! There are talks about an arranged marriage, but once again we'll see how that goes over.... This is the first time I've like written Luca besides just mentions so I hope I did alright! Also I write this like two weeks ago but forgot to edit it until today oops! Enjoy!❤️
WC-5.0k
Part 1- The Proposal Main Masterlist
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"Remind me again why the fuck we're we're here Tom?"
"Ask her. She was the one who choose the meeting place."
"Keep in mind that she can also hear you perfectly well brother darling, and if you ask that question one more time you won't be so lucky."
Arthur raised his hands in surrender as he took a seat by John as you all sat waiting for your company to arrive. Well, Tommy didn't sit. He just stood with a cigarette hanging from his mouth watching the entrance gate of the loading dock.
"All I don't understand is why you wanted to meet him here. After all, we're Romani blood right?"
"Yes Arthur."
"And Luca's Italian blood?"
"Correct"
"So why the fuck are we meeting at the fucking Jew's shipyard?"
"I actually agree with that. Why are we here? Isn't it suppose to be neutral ground or what not?" John chimed in and even Tommy tilted his head in concession. Even he wasn't sure why you choose to meet Luca in Alfie's territory. He would have rather met in Charlie's yard, but you'd insisted on being here, in the small boat yard on the edge of Alfie's territory.
"Simple. If he hates both of you he can't favor either of you. Thus neutral land is formed."
"That's some wise fucking words if I've ever heard them, poppet."
Turning around you smiled at the approaching gangster, his loyal dog strolling a few steps ahead. Reaching out you began to coo at the large dog who was eager to receive his belly rubs. Playing with Cyril always improved your mood. You ignored the groans of your brothers and John grabbing on to Arthur's coat to he decided to lunge.
"Hello Arthur!"
"Fuck off!"
"Oi! No fighting," you interrupted getting between the two men, "Now he may hate you all, but he can still hate one more than the other so let's not push it."
Alfie nodded his head mockingly behind you as you gently shoved your eldest brother away. Sending him back to his seat, you gave Tommy a short glare for not stepping in, to which he just shrugged, and then turned towards Alfie again.
"But really why are you here?"
"Can't a man walk his own property?"
"Sure, but you said everything would be ready for when Mr. Changretta arrived. You're not suppose to be here. It's to be a private affair."
"And it is. Just making one last check to see if you lot are all ready and make one last proposal of my own. Also I wanna remind ya not to get any blood on my dock. Just had it redone all nice and such. I wouldn't want your ugly guts staining the finish. I saw their ugly fucking cars pulling up down the street on my way in. Should be here any minute. It's a shame thou init? Pretty thing like you is too good for any of these cunts. If you'd like I can kill them all now and you can run with me, eh poppet? You can play with my dog any day you want."
You laughed as both Arthur and John stood up this time with indignant protests. Even Tommy tensed up and turned to glare at the man who had spoken.
"Alright then Mr. Solomons," you drawled, patting the man's chest, "While that is just a lovelyoffer, unfortunately I am already taken for," a quick glare at Tommy, "though you're welcome to leave the dog anytime. He's such a lovely boy." Cyril wagged his tail at the attention shoving his head into your leg like an over grown cat looking for head scratches. Ones you were more than happy to oblige.
"Well then, I best be off now haven't I mates? Unlike you lot I know to appease a pretty woman with her desires. Y/N." Alfie nodded his head as he stared to head off, Cyril waiting until his master had called thrice before leaving your side. It wasn't until they'd both rounded the corner when the company you'd finally be waiting for arrived. Three black cars pulled up smoothly before coming to a halt. From your place in the shipping yard you watched nine men exit the cars. A few more than you had expected but still not any issue.
Your brothers walked up first, and you saw Tommy moving to shake someone's hand. The man was tall with dark slicked back hair and he wore his hat slightly tilted on his head. He looked stupid. In his mouth sat a toothpick that he seemed to enjoy munching on as he listened to your brother speak. He looked like a cow when he did that you'd stubborn decided. A stupid cow. A handsome cow. But a handsome stupid cow. Stupid. handsome. cow man. asshole.....ok so obviously still you weren't happy to be there. After all, this was the man who threatened to kill your entire family. Even the children, and you made a habit of disliking anyone willing to harm children. They didn't have to want any of their own or even like them in general, but to be willing to harm something so innocent to the crimes being punished seemed wrong to you. So even without meeting the man you knew you despised him. What kinda lowlife monster would be willing to hurt innocent kids to get his revenge? ....Evidently one you're brothers we're willing to marry you too. But was there really no other deal he'd make for peace? Well....If things went to plan you were about to find out.
"I'm glad you were able to consider my proposal Mr.Shelby, I think it's much nicer this way isn't it?"
You didn't even try to hide your disbelieving laugh as the New York Gangster's words reached your ears. Immediately the attention went you, and since he was closer now, you could see the faint outline of a permanent stubble outlining his lower face. Stupid veryhandsome cow man. As he looked towards you for the first time Luca raised and eyebrow.
"Do you find something amusing?"
Tilting your head slightly, you smiled with a false sweetness. Out of the side of your eye, you noticed your brothers tensing up slightly. Be it from the fact Luca was so close or that you interrupted their conversion. Either way, they began to notice the glint in your eye. And slowly they were regretting allowing you to meet Luca before the wedding. As if an introduction at the alter would have been any better.
"Yes. Very amusing in fact. See, I came here thinking it was ME being proposed to," clasping a hand mockingly to your chest you continued, "But here we are and the only one being romanced is my beloved brother. ...Well, romanced isn't the word, that's got to be the shittiest proposal I've ever heard. 'I'm glad you've considered my proposal'.... poppycock! Aren't you Italians suppose to be good at this romance shit?"
Arthur choked on his tongue besides you as Tommy spoke your name in warning, which you ignored. Luca moved his toothpick around his mouth and he gave you a once over. If you hadn't already been set on hating this man, his stare would have sent a pleasant shiver down your back in a way few could these days. Finally, letting out a small but still amused hum, Luca reached out to shake your hand.
"Y/N, I presume?"
"Shelby. Y/N Shelby....Miss Y/N Shelby is my name. And you are too close, back up," you stated firmly. The special emphasis on both 'Shelby' and 'Miss' was more than enough to let anyone know your feelings on the current situation. Luca only raised his eyebrow again and rescinded his unaccepted hand.
"I'm Lu...."
"I know who you are," you interrupted.
"Really," Luca queried. Surely you didn't know enough about him then if you were treating him so flippantly, he thought. He was the man determined to end you entire bloodline only a few weeks ago. You should be terrified of what would happen if he decided he didn't want to marry you!! But no, he thought, instead you were....
"You're the man who thinks finger paintings are scary."
Luca's toothpick fell from his mouth, while John could be heard covering his laugh. Then his eyes narrowed and his voice became slightly darker.
"What did you say?"
Tommy put a hand on your shoulder as he stepped forward to put himself between you two. But before he could open his mouth to take control of the situation again, yours opened first. You waved your hands around in sarcastic excitement as you spoke, imitating the man's voice.
"What were you helping 'mama' with her lesson plan one day, making hand turkeys and decide, 'ohhh THUMBS! Terrifying?! That'll be a great way to show people not to mess with me!'"
Luca's eye twitched and if he hadn't already lost it, you were sure he would have snapped the toothpick between his teeth, his jaw was clenched so tightly.
"Watch your tone with me woma..."
"OR WHAT? You'll send me a finger painting?"
Arthur wrapped an arm around your waist and began to pull your back. No, he didn't like how Luca was speaking to you, but he also didn't want you to start a war of your own today. Even if he had a good idea you'd win. And yet still you weren't deterred.
"Can it be pink and have confetti? OOHH or maybe it can be red like the blood that's gonna run down your throat when imaamuahhh," Arthur hissed as you bit the hand covering your mouth, but it was enough time for Tommy to finally step in again. Briefly...
"She doesn't mean that. It's the fa..."
"He's right! I don't!" You interjected again, freeing yourself of your eldest brother, "I'm not actually a fan of blood, so I won't slit your throat, but I'd be carefully of the champagne at the after party. Never know what slips in the cups these days..."
This time it was John who grabbed you, though not as roughly as Arthur, but luckily for everyone you had finished.... for now. The entire yard was silent and even Tommy was at a small loss for what to say. Truth be told he didn't know if there was anything to say. It was a long enough shot to convince Luca that marriage would be a way to end the vendetta and now here you were, possibly ruining that chance within half an hour. While he could understand your anger, there was still a part of him that was annoyed at the fact you could be so tactless. Another part though, the part that was still your big brother, was incredibly proud and resisting the urge to laugh at your comments. Luca however, remained unimpressed.
"My apologies, Miss Shelby," Luca restated, started to become more than annoyed with your antics. Surely, you knew that he was the one holding the power here? If your family had it, there was no way they'd have even considered the marriage. He was the one holding all the cards and you were instead choosing to act as though this entire plan was your idea. In a quieter, and deceitfully threatening voice, Luca ignored your demand for space and leaned closer to your ear. "Though, one would think for a woman in your situation, you'd be a little more welcoming to your fiancé. After all, I've been so generous to reconsider my previous message of vendetta, haven't I Bella?"
John could be heard whispering to Tommy, probably demanding to be allowed to hit the taller man, but he was held back. Again, you ignored your brothers instead focusing on the man before you, who's just said one of the worst things he could have.
"Generous? You think you're generous to try and force a woman into marriage and take her away from her family? Is it generous to not to kill children in exchange for someone else's freedom? Do you expect me to be happy, fucking happy, to have to spend the rest of my life with you when I don't even know you? I don't who you are or what you might do to me. You expect me to just follow your every whim and play housewife, knowing that one day you may kill me to go after my brothers? Is that what you define fucking generosity as," you fumed, just as angry as you were when you first learned about the new deal. "Well, if that's generous then damn all of the generosity in the world to hell! I agreed to come here today to meet you for my family. I am agreeing to consider giving up some of my freedom for their safety, when I'm not even the one who started this whole mess. I could have said no. I could have left them to fend for themselves and likely die over a needless feud, but I didn't. Because I was the one who decided to be generous. I am the one willing to give up something good that I have, to keep spending bad from happening to someone else. That is generous. My drawback for their benefit. I didn't have to do it but I did. Because I love them. So unless you're more incompetent than you've come off so far, I'd try thinking of a better word than generous for that little statement if I was you," speaking tersely you dared Luca to question your speech. Then taking a deep breath you closed your eyes off a moment.
His last comment had thrown you off, setting you off in a way you hadn't meant to go. And while your words were true, this isn't where you wanted the conversation to go. Not if your plan was going to work. It couldn't work if you'd pushed Luca too far too fast. He needed to be in just the right spot for the biggest blow to make the most efficient impact. Sighing, you straightened your shirt and looked down at your shoes. Your glare dropped and an almost desperate look appeared in your eyes briefly.
"Besides.... is it too much to ask for a proper proposal? Like the one from a story that makes you dream of true love," Tilting your head in an almost wistfully sad way, you'd met Luca's gaze again, noticing that by some miracle he's eyes had softened just slightly. "Even if it's not true it would be nice to pretend wouldn't it? To actually be asked to be one's forever even if it seems there's only one answer? Can't I at least be granted that?"
Luca thought for a moment, taking the time to pull a new toothpick from his pocket. Shooting a brief glance over your shoulder, he saw your brothers staring at him intensely from a few steps behind. It crossed his mind that if he truly did want to, he could kill you here and now. Because he really did have the power in this fight. You stood within half an arms reach and the eight men he'd brought with him far outnumbered your three brothers. It could be an easy fight, over in mere seconds, damned how neutral this ground was suppose to be. He could kill you all now and the vendetta would be settled, AND he wouldn't ever have to deal with your infuriating brothers or your even more infuriating comments ever again. You had showed him no respect up to this point and if it were anyone else they'd have been dead after the first interruption. But you weren't dead, and for some reason, some unknown feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach, Luca wanted do keep it that way. So he unwittingly did exactly what you wanted him to do.
"You want a proper proposal," Luca drawled, his eyes falling to your lips once and his voice was calmer now, almost softly curious, like he sympathized with your plea, "Is that it? Me asking you, and that's all it'll take for this to be done? You'll be good and stop fighting?"
Smiling sweetly again, a more genuine smile this time you nodded, clasping you hands together and placing them behind you almost shyly as you rocked your feet. It was a complete change from your attitude moments ago. Like all it took was to believe someone was listening to you, for you to become this sweet little demure creature from the fairytales his mother taught in her class.
And somehow, naively Luca didn't realize the fairytale of your own act now. Giving a pleased smile, at what he assumed was your acceptance of the deal, he nodded, silently agreeing to your desires. Despite your beliefs Luca didn't think of himself as a monster, nor did he want an unhappy marriage either. He didn't necessarily care if you loved him, but it would be nice if he knew you wouldn't betray him. And if he could please his wife, he figured life would be so much easier for him in that matter. So he supposed he could give you this one thing you seemed to so closely desire. Besides, there was, again, this almost funny feeling that had settled in Luca's stomach. He couldn't say what it was but there was apart of him that was almost.... excited to be able to actually propose to you instead of just meeting you at the alter. It was something he couldn't explain and wouldn't admit yet but it was there. And so the next words from his mouth would seal both your fates.... or so he thought as he took the toothpick out of his mouth to fulfil your wish.
"Y/N Shelby? Would you like to..."
"Wait, not like that!"
Luca froze, his head tilting in confusion at the light frown that has formed on your face. Your brothers, as well as Luca's own men could be here whispering in the background. None of them were really sure what was going on now, but none of them moved, all equally curious to see where this was going.
"Not like that? Didn't you just say you wanted me to propose?"
"Yes, but I also said propose properly," you insisted, "if you don't do it the right way it may as well mean nothing."
"And what exactly does 'proper' mean by your standards? What do you want me to do?" There was a small amount of sarcasm in his words due to a voice in his mind that was starting to get annoyed again, but Luca ignored it. It didn't even take you a second of thought before your smile returned. As had the look that worried your brothers in the first place.
"It means get on your knees Mr. Changretta."
Silence echoed across the entire shipyard. Almost all the men present stood in shock, eyes wide, even Tommy at what you'd just said. Luca however just tilted his head to the side, his hat looked straight now, processing. The deceptively sweet smile still lingered on your face as you waited for a response.
"You said to get on my knees.... to propose to you?" he repeated slowly, wanting to confirm you'd actually just demanded that of him. He wanted to be sure you had the audacity to order such from him.
"I want you on your knees Luca....now."
....
Luca listened.
For some reason, one nobody would ever be able to explain, he did as you said. The toothpick was clenched tightly between his lips as he slowly lowered himself to one knee, eyes locked with yours the entire time. His men could be heard whispering to each other behind him, and Luca knew he'd have to have a talk with them later about what they saw. Luca took a deep breath in, contemplating if this was actually going to happen, if he was actually doing this....Evidently he was.
"Y/N Shelby..." he paused a moment as you stuck out your hand indicating he should take it... He did. You couldn't see it, but Tommy was looking up at sky, lips tightly together trying to hide his smirk. John and Arthur did have to turn around to hide their grins now too. Luca started again. The words were spoken with a slight hint of sarcasm as he repeated by the title you'd reminded him of earlier. Luca tilted his head in question, and if he did it any more his hat probably would have fallen off.
"Y/N Shelby, Miss Y/N Shelby.... would you do me the honor of marrying me, Luca Changretta, and become my wife?"
"No."
Luca almost choked on his toothpick, he inhaled so quickly, his cheeks darkening a slight tint of red. You hadn't even paused for a moment to think, bluntly rejecting the man on his knees before you. Squeezing his hand lightly, you smiled again, though now Luca could see the true meaning of the look and realised that you never had any intentions of accepting his proposal at al. You just wanted to make a fool out of him down on his knees. Quickly, that embarrassment turned to anger as Luca shot to his feet, pulling you closer by the hand and seething in your face. Behind you, your brothers shot into action as well, all tensing up and reaching for their guns. But they knew that even if necessary, they'd have no shot as you were practically shielding Luca with you body because if where they stood.
"That's is enough! Who the fuck do you think you are to fucking make me kneel..."
"Step back Luca," you interrupted, undetected by his ranting, but he ignored you.
"Don't tell me to fucking step back woman. If you think you can treat me...."
"Step back Luca," you repeated again calmly, but it only served to anger him more.
"STEP BACK! Step fucking back!! I will stand wherever I fucking want to stand," and with that he stepped even closer, to where the tip of his nose was touching yours. "You don't seem to understand anything going on."
"Actually I..."
"NO! Your precious brothers are going to have a bullet coming out of every fixing hole they have in ten seconds in you don't fucking listen," His hands were on your shoulders know gripping you roughly. The toothpick in his mouth almost stabbing you in the face as he spoke. "You are not the one in power here, I am. You do not make the calls, I do. I am the one who can tear apart everything you hold dear." Luca leaned his head back arrogantly, looking down at you over nose. He was still less than an arm's length part. "I have nine men and you have three. So who's to fucking stop me from killing your brothers and having my way with you right now?"
A shot rang though the air.
Luca's toothpick was still in his mouth, but now half of it had been blown to sawdust by the bullet passingly cleanly before his face.
You just smiled...
"I told you to step back Luca..."
Every man in the ship yard ignored you, reaching for their guns, trying to find the shooter. Even your brothers looked around, slightly panicked, not knowing who fired the gun.... Or whose side they were on. The surprise of the shot, had loosened Luca's grip on you as you freed yourself and took a few steps back. Two more shots rang out from somewhere, landing close to Luca's feet, creating more space between the pair of you as he stumbled back. Then the shipyard went quiet again. Not a single man moved, for fear the next shots wouldn't be so harmless. Still searching for the ambusher Luca turned towards Tommy.
"I thought you said this was neutral ground! It's suppose to be private," He demanded, completely ignoring the fact he, himself had just threatened you on the very same neutral ground.
"It is. Or it's fucking suppose to be. I have no clue what's going on," Tommy replied, just as concerned. He should have known Alfie would play dirty. He hadn't counted on you doing it either though.
"But it's just that Mr. Changretta," clasping your hands together, you started towards the Italian man again, having no fear of getting shot. "As I told my brothers earlier, 'If he hates both of you he can't favor either of you. Thus neutral land is formed.' And I promise, Alfred Solomons hates both of you."
Luca huffed and narrowed his eyes. "I suppose this was your doing too?"
"Of course. See that 'you' is spelled without an 'me'.....and me, well I, have a very good relationship with a certain man's dog. And it is just amazing what a man will do when his dog likes you."
No one spoke so you continued. Though your face remained composed in an accomplished grin, you were almost bouncing on the balls of your feet due to your excitement. Your plan was going very nicely. Laughing, you carelessly spun around once, observing the mass of boxes and boats and building around you.
"They're amazing are they? Snipers? Could shoot your hat off from half a mile away and you'd have never even heard the shot. Do you know how many snipers during the war were Jews? I don't, but I understand that Mr. Solomons employee a decent number of them. And when my dear friend heard of this whole marriage ploy?.....Well he righteously shared my outrage and offered to help me." Now you had taken to walking circles around your target. Now Luca realised that it was in fact you who had all the power, since the moment his tires hit the yard's ground. "And luckily for you, I did manage to curve his "help" from something a little bit less...murdery? Perhaps. After all, I do prefer to avoid violence if I can. There are so many more civilised methods than that...And finally we settled on this. The 'official engagement' taking place in this very yard, where I politely ask you to rethink your offer. And if you don't, we try to renegotiate.... and if you don't agree to that.... well. Luca you were wrong earlier..... I have far more than three men. All of who are very inclined to keep me safe. Now they've been instructed not to injury unless necessary, but that doesn't mean they can't give a warning shot. It doesn't mean they have to either. They were being very very nice just now. And you can't see them, but I promise they've had their sights on you for a while now. Why not give them a smile and then I'll tell you how this is gonna go." You opened your arms wide as if showing off everything. Luca just watched chewing on the half of his toothpick that remained.
"How what's gonna go?" It actually wasn't Luca who spoke up. Nor was it your brothers. One of Luca's men, had asked the question. You turned and smiled at the man nodding you head once as if pleased that someone was participating. Luca made a mental note to beat the man later for encouraging you.
"See I really don't want to marry you. I don't love you. I don't even know you. There's also the fact you threatened everyone I love. But I also understand you and my brothers' small minds are incapable of imagining deals involving anything other than fighting or fucking and I don't particularly want to do either of those things with it right now. So I've come up with a new plan and who knows, maybe it'll work out in everyone's favour. Are you ready to hear it?" You paused waiting for a response. When none came you raised and eyebrow and made a point of glancing towards a rooftop over Luca's shoulder. "Do you want to know how this will work Luca?"
"Fine."
"Perfect! So you WILL take back your little finger paintings, but I will NOT be marrying you anytime soon. However, for the good of our families I am presenting another option. Luca Changtetta, I will NOT marry you on a whim, but," You paused for a moment for dramatic effect, waiting until Luca tilted his head. "Should you agree... I will let you take my hand in courtship for one year. And I promise it will not be easy for you. If you manage to whoo me, the you can have your marriage. If not.... Well then I should hope by that day we are close enough friends to put the past behind us and everyone can go their separate ways."
Luca tilted his head in confusion, "What?"
Bloody hell, this man needed to pick up a romance novel. Huffing slightly your reworded your demands.
"Luca, you have a year to date me and make me fall in love with you. If you do I'll marry you. If not the you have a whole year to give up or come up with a better plan than killing everyone. Got it?"
"Why the fuck didn't you just say that in the first place? And what if I don't want to court you?"
"Because I didn't wanted to. And if you don't want to play then you can give up now or let the snipers play target practice."
Luca nodded his head and thought for a moment. The right choice was obvious as the fact that you were crazier than Alfred Solomons. After all, first you were threatening to kill him for trying to marry you, and now he had a year to change your mind. Luca's hand was still wrapped around his gun and he had half a mind to use it. The only thing keeping him from shooting you was the fact he knew, he'd have at least five bullets in him before he pulled the trigger. The obvious choice was to walk away now and give up the vendetta. You had just told him he could stop and you all could go your separate ways. No one else would have to die. All he had to do was give up, admitting you'd outsmarted him. He'd have to admit that you did hold all the power.
"Well, Mr. Changretta? What do you think of my proposal?"
Luca didn't like admitting anyone else had the power... Even if looked very good on you. And so his choice was made.
"I suppose I better learn your favorite type of flower amore."
"Whatever kind you're most allergic to Romeo"
.....
And so it began...
#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders imagine#luca changretta#peaky blinders#luca changretta x reader#Luca changretta imagine#shelby sister#shelby sister imagine
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An Animalistic Disaster
Summery:Where you reveal a bit of your past and go on a shopping trip with the girls (And Pentious).
Masterlist
CH-14 :Past memories and a shopping trip
Tw: domestic abuse.
"When I was six, me and my mom went to live with mom's brother, my uncle and aunt. They had a daughter and a son, Melody and Skylar.
Melody was younger and more timid than me. I gradually realised that Melody was almost like a puppet to her parents. They gave all their focus on Skylar. Which would make sense since he was a kid then. But they took it too far.
They would never try to discipline Skylar. It was clear her parents had a soft spot for him. Skylar understood that very clearly and would abuse that."
You sighed, remembering what used to happen in that household.
"Skylar would scream and hit Melody whenever he wanted and if we as much as raised our voice on him, he would cry endlessly in front of his mom like we hit him brutally. Before you say anything, he would only do that whenever his parents were around to hear, so that little shit knew what he was doing.
And of course his mom would believe him every fucking time. So since I couldn't make him behave, the best course of action was to lock myself up in my room so he couldn't get in and cause trouble for me."
"That sounds horrible...." Charlie gasped.
"That's not the end of it." You sadly smiled. "I haven't even told you why I'm hated."
"I hated how they treated Melody from the bottom of my heart. I would speak up for her since she couldn't.
She would often seek refuge in me and stay in my room away from everyone. I read her my different storybooks, showed her my favourite shows and shared my experiences. Gradually she began to think for herself. She began to stand up for herself. Her parents hated that.
They blamed me for corrupting their sweet child with my venomous company. They were mad they couldn't control Melody like before.
Their scolding and hitting got worse from then. There were times we would stay locked in my room for hours while her mom kept shouting all shitty things she could say about me. She even told Melody, A child, to live with me instead of them if she liked me that much."
"Please tell me you guys did something about that later..." Vaggie almost pleaded.
"When things got worse and I couldn't take it anymore, I finally told my mom one day after she got home from work. I didn't want to tell her at first before cause I didn't want to make her worry. My mom and aunt had a huge argument then. Later finally, we rented a small house for ourselves."
'But what happened to Melody?' Angel quickly asked and Charlie translated it just as fast. Everyone had the same question in their mind.
"She...stayed back. I asked her to come with me but she smiled and shook her head. She said she wanted to stay and make that place better."
'Ya gotta hand it to the kid. She had some real guts to stay in a family like that'
You nodded at what Husk said after Vaggie translated it.
"She really had. We did get to see each other from time to time in our family gatherings and such and kept in contact through texting and calling sometimes. But I'm glad to say our bond ever wavered no matter how long we are away from each other "
You said with a small smile looking at everyone.
"Melody has learned to be her own person since I left despite still being in those harsh conditions. And even after all this time, I've never gotten close to her parents for this reason."
You finally finished talking and looked at them for their reactions. Charlie almost immediately tackled you into a hug.
"I knew you were great person! Thank you thank you thank you!"
"Thanks for what Charlie?"
"Nothing don't worry about it!"
Charlie was relieved that you were actually a good person. She doesn't have to feel guilty for defending you. She hugged you tighter in happiness almost choking you.
"C-charlie, can't breathe-"
"Oh sorry sorry"
She quickly let you go and smiled brightly at you. "You're a nice person (Y/n)." Vaggie gave you soft smile.
Everyone in the room was thinking the same thing. The earlier suspicion on you vanishing in an instant.
"Yeah well anyways" you scratched your neck while blushing from all this attention you're getting plus seeing all their eyes on you. "We should eat dinner and go to sleep. I plan on going shopping tomorrow. I want Charlie, Vaggie and Niffty accompanying me since they turned human."
"We get to hang around in the human world?" Niffty said excitedly. You chuckled noticing her enthusiasm.
"Yes you can plus we'll be doing job hunting for you guys. We don't know how long it'll take to find a job so we should start searching from tomorrow "
"Awesome!"
With that, you all slowly went around cooking while chatting, making jabs at one another. Angel was almost thrown into a cooking pot by accident but Charlie noticed it immediately. Other then that, everything was fine.
After sleeping again in previous positions, you woke up to Vaggie calling you this time. You smiled at her and went to the bathroom to freshen up.
After you finished,you went to the kitchen to see Charlie cooking this time with her tongue out a bit upwards as she was flipping pancakes very carefully. It was honestly quite adorable to watch. Vaggie was about to call you but you put a finger on your mouth, making Vaggie go quiet.
You slowly tiptoed behind Charlie making Vaggie look at you confused. Just as Charlie finished flipping a Pancake, you went 'Boo' in her ear playfully. But you didn't expect what happened.
Charlie let out a surprised yelp as she let go of the pan. A bright golden light engulfed her as something fell to the ground in a thud.
As the light disappeared, there was Charlie again, but in her sheep form.
'Oh no, oh no, oh nononono! I'm not getting stuck in this form again!'
She started to scream in panic with sheep sounds and ran around. Vaggie quickly tried running after her to try and calm her down. She picked up a very scared Charlie and held her close as you looked over with guilt.
"Hun calm down, breathe." Vaggie patted Charlie as she looked looked up at her girlfriend teary eyed. "Try to see if you can become human again okay?"
Charlie nodded and calmed her nerves as she tried to imagine herself as human again. After some time, a golden light engulfed her again as she again reappeared as human in Charlie's arms.
"Vaggie, I'm human again! I'm human!" She said shaking Vaggie. "Yes, I can see that...but what happened? Can we turn to our human and animal form at will?" Charlie shruged, not knowing. You came forward looking down.
"I'm really really sorry Charlie. I didn't mean for that to happen.." you said meekly.
"It's alright... It just gave me a little shock that's all" Charlie said nervously laughing. "But at least I turned back again."
'What happened? Why are you all looking so shaken?' Husk said stepping into the room alongside Angel and noticing the pair on the floor holding each other as well as you looking at them apologetically.
After Vaggie told him his eyes were wide open. 'Wait, no shit? That actually worked? Let me see if I can try.' Husk and Angel both tried to imagine themselves as humans but nothing happened. 'Guess it only works with those who already transformed..' Angel sighed.
"Make sure to let others know about this and oh-" Charlie's nose picked up a burning smell. "MY PANCAKES!" She quickly ran towards the pan to salvage the food before it's fully wasted.
You volunteered to eat the slightly burnt pancake as an apology and after that, it was time to go shopping. You, Charlie, Vaggie and Niffty all dressed up in your clothes. Vaggie gathered all the animals before going.
"I'm leaving my front door open in case you all need something. But for this reason, I'll need you all to stay close to the house as well to guard it." You said looking at all of them.
"Especially you Alastor, you're the only one that can do something if a burglar comes by." Since you saw how Alastor could fight even in this form in the woods, he was the best option.
'Yes, yes, I know you can't do anything without me. You girls can go ahead without worry. I'll keep watch." Alastor said in a bored tone but inside he was fuming with pride that you relied on him the most.
"Now then, we shouldn't take too much time. Be safe you guys. You're free to go." With that you went to get the car ready as your three companions waited patiently.
Sir Pentious was about to slither back to the cabin but stopped seeing Cherri head towards your car. Being confused he quickly followed her. Cherri jumped into the car's open trunk while you weren't looking and Pentious did the same.
'Misss Cherri what are you doing here? We're supposed to be back at the cabin!' Pentious whisper shouted.
'Wha- Hey what the fuck man. Don't creep up on me like that!' Cherri was a little spooked seeing Pentious behind her. She thought she was being discreet.
'And I'm going to the town with them! I can't wait till I've transformed see what the world is like now since I'm the last. So I'm hitching a ride!'
'But isn't thiss a bad idea? What if sssomeone sees uss?'
'Oh quit your yapping. You can leave if you want.'
But he could not even if wanted since the trunk closed on them followed by the car starting. Cherri had a grin on her face and Pentious had a look of worry.
Niffty decided to sit next to you on the car and Charlie and Vaggie sat behind. While driving, you started some songs for everyone to enjoy.
All three of them were enjoying the sight of human world as they were practically glued to their windows. Especially Charlie since she spent her entire life in hell. Even though they went outside in your cabin, it was nothing compared to driving through various places like this. The sight of them made the corners of your lips turn up.
"By the way Niffty, did you get any powers like us?" Vaggie asked suddenly remembering.
"Not really, no. Me and mr.Alastor tried really hard to see if I had any type of powers but nothing worked." Niffty answered while her eyes were still glued to the window. "But I can turn into a dog again at will now!"
"I see..oh and (Y/n). Can I request something..?" Vaggie asked sheepishly.
"Hm,yes? What is it?"
"Can I get some glasses? I think my eye sight has lessened.."
"Oh yes sure! We'll get your eyes checked then!"
Finally you reached your place. You parked the car and you three finally stepped outside. Suddenly Niffty started sniffing the air with her ears moving.
"Niffty? What's wrong?" Charlie asked concerned. Niffty didn't answer as she stepped behind the trunk and opened it.
"Uh-huh! Found you! I knew I heard some weird sounds coming from the back!"
"What? Who's there?" You went to stand beside Niffty and found Pentious and Cherri red handed.
You quickly pulled the hood down and looked around see if anyone was starting at you. Having a squirrel was fine but people might report you to the police if they saw you have a snake in your car, thinking you're a poacher. And the worst thing is they'll take him away to who knows where.
"What the fuck are you guys doing here? You guys should be at the cabin!" You hissed through your teeth at them.
'What? Taking a stroll couldn't hurt! Plus this dumbass followed me here himself.' Cherri said looking at Pentious. 'I wass only trying to ssee what you were doing!'
You sighed. You couldn't leave them both here. Who knows what they'll start doing if they're left alone. You don't want to have any more trouble in your hands. Rummaging through the car, you found a big shopping bag that you usually use for groceries.
"Jump in here and not a single peek from either of you got it?" You said holding the bag in front of them.
'Got it!' Cherri grinned as she jumped inside and Pentious followed. You gave the bag to Niffty.
"Niffty can I ask you to take care of this bag? Make sure none of them peeks their head out of try to come out okay?" You requested her with worry. "Can you do that for me?"
"Mam,Yes Mam! I'll make sure of that!" She copied military style and gave you a salute making you chuckle a bit.
"I'll hold onto that then"
After that was over, you guys went to buy foods and two extra mattresses for now. Then you guys went to buy clothes. They didn't buy much since they could just wear your clothes for the most part as you suggested and bought personal items. You'll have to spend more money on the boys clothes when they turn human. And finally on Vaggie's glasses.
After a successful trip, you four bought some ice creams as you headed towards your car. Cherri did try to sneak out a couple of times but Niffty made sure she couldn't. Some people on the street thought the three of them were cosplaying and wanted to take selfies but you quickly declined.
You also collected some informations on the places looking to hire right now. You decided to sort through them later. You led them through a shortcut to reach the parking lot faster. You spent more time than you planned on getting sucked in the fun hanging out with them.
All in all it was a successful shopping trip. That was until you turned a corner while walking and bumped into someone making you spill your ice cream over them.
"I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry!" You quickly yelled out looking at the shirt that now had a stain and some bits of ice cream falling to the ground from the shirt.
"Oi look where you're going bitch!" The guy yelled out pushing you away from him. You would fall to the floor if Vaggie didn't catch you in time. "Careful!" She yelled out.
As the guy started to come closer Charlie moved in front of you defensively. "She said sorry already! So please stop this!" She pleaded as you stood up again.
"Fuck no. That bitch ruined my shirt and now she'll have to pay for it!" The guy shoved Charlie aside and grabbed your collar making you look at his face.
Niffty was standing behind Vaggie still holding onto the bag as the scene transpired in from of her. She started growling unknowningly as she took a step ahead.
Sir Pentious and Cherri were listening to everything that was transpiring outside.
'Shit, something very bad is happening outside!' Cherri said looking a bit nervous.
'It sounds like (Y/n) is in trouble..' Pentious said as they both peeked out of the bag just as you were grabbed by your collar.
'(Y/n) no..I can't let anything happen to her!' Pentious said as he jumped out of the bag. Niffty finally noticed him. "Pentious you're not supposed to be out!"
'She helped us all these time, fed us, took care of us. The least I can do is protect in danger!'
His body began to grow bright yellow. Vaggie who was about to jump onto the guy, stopped and looked behind her.
The man's disgusting breath hit your nose like a tornado. He raised one hand to hit you as you quickly prepared yourself to defend. But a hand came from behind you, catching the attackers raised one.
"I don't think it's in proper manner to hit a lady."
A.N: So I've realised that I should probably make the chapters longer otherwise there's gonna be a huge number of chapters by the time I'm finished.
So yeah, heads up for that! (・∀・)
Also I didn't tell here before, but I'm planning on a QnA if I reach 1k votes and kudos in ao3 and wattpad. I already reached 1k on wattpad and now for the ao3 (~‾▿‾)~
You guys can ask the cast or me any questions during that. But of course, no telling spoilers.
Tag list: @legostars @glowinthedarkbones1150
@darifes @aria-tempest
#hazbinhotel#hazbin hotel#Charlie x reader#Vaggie x reader#husk x reader#angel dust x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#sir pentious x reader#cherri bomb x reader#niffty#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#Charlie#Vaggie#husk#human charlie#human vaggie#human niffty#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#alastor the radio demon
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thinking about !toxic sadist armin that gets so turned on at the idea of seeing you hurt…
not in the sense of broken bones or an injury but in the way of pinning you to a table with his palms gripping your thighs as he slams his hips into you; rutting slowly after giving you such heavy strokes. A smile on his face and full blown tears streaming down yours..completely different reactions for the same sexual pleasure. Your skirt’s been flipped up so that bulge you felt deep in the pit of your stomach has become so painfully visible but it feels so fucking good all the same. Creaming profusely all over the surface and his thick cock is the culprit..its entirely swollen and throbbing inside of you. Only after he’s made you squirt twice now. He knows you can’t stand him—no, scratch that..you hate his fucking guts but you’d go crazy without him in yours. Armin watches as you clench that pretty little jaw so tight, he’s afraid your teeth might shatter. You’re trying to look away from him..even at the risk of keeping your head tilted backwards and becoming even more faint than you already were. So much so, he slaps you to look up so he can spit in your mouth..oh yes, he’s pulsating at the sight of you pawing at his freshly formed six pack, trying to push him away but he just wants you to be honest with yourself. Laughing because it’s blatantly obvious you can take that dick like a pro..the only one who can, in fact. The only one’s who pussy grips tight enough to have him fill it up after only a few minutes. The one he says he wants to have his baby every time he’s inside you. Which is why he’ll always come back, even after fucking other bitches. Even after cheating. Hence why you’re so emotional in the first place. Constantly spinning the block because no one can get a nut out of him quite like his precious (y/n), who so foolishly accepts him back with open arms and legs to boot. The same (y/n) who can’t help but to gently massage that clit to aid him as you beg for more. “F-fuck you..’feels so good, armin..” such an asshole, laughing at the choked up moan catching in the back of your throat. It’s a sound that makes his shit twitch but it’s not enough. it’s never enough for someone so selfish and goddamn greedy like him so you’re soon titled up by a hand to the back of the neck, where you’re forced to gaze into those ethereal, evil blue eyes of his as he slows to only short, sporadic movements that force him all the way inside. Those clear teardrops staining your pretty brown cheeks as he swipes them away with a thumb and kisses the area. Akin to a mother trying to heal her child’s wound. It’s of no consolation to the actual pain he’s caused but he knows you still love it all the same. Sweetly uttering: “shhh…it’s okay, baby. I can’t help myself..you just look so pretty when you cry.”
.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･
if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾
#armin drabble#armin arlert x black reader#armin x black reader#armin x black !fem reader#armin attack on titan#armin x fem reader#armin x y/n#toxic love#armin smut#armin artlert#aot smut#black reader smut#toxic armin#I literally wrote this at 5am this morning#black fanfic writer#black fem reader#black fanfiction#smut fanfiction#aot x black reader#I love making him an asshole omg 🥴#attack on titan armin#armin x reader#armin aot#armin arlert#fanfic#anime#anime smut#attack on titan smut#black reader
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Buggy searching out reader after a fight and showing up to her doorstep like a puppy looking for help
feel free to make it angsty or fluffy (or smutty lol)...reader could be an ex-marine and hates pirates so it's not clear whether or not they like each other (spoiler they do)
PAIRING: OPLA!Buggy x f!reader
WORD COUNT: 2.3K
WARNINGS: ANGST, canon-typical things, cursing, smoking, descriptions of injuries/fucked up shit Buggy did, mutual pining, brief mention of reader being a former marine, vague description of smuggler!reader, soft touches, enemies ish to lovers, etc.
A/N: This was fun lol. It's a little weird and experimental (?) for me? So, she got a little messy as I was getting excited to just Get This Out, so it didn't sit in my drafts. I want more buggy angst lol. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any OPLA things or along the lines. Enjoy.
!!!COMMENTS ENCOURAGED!!!
(tags: @gingernut1314)
There were reasons habits quickly morphed into vices, something immoral and wicked. Yet, you were lethal, the definition of torment. Your silhouette alone was enough to send Buggy spiraling.
Each step toward you felt unreliable and fuzzy, making Buggy question if he reattached his limbs correctly. His gut felt twisted with a foreign feeling that he wanted to trap away. He wondered if he buried the feeling deep enough if it would turn to treasure or become forgotten rot.
“Buggy.” Your voice even irritated him. Yet, he found relief in finding you alone. “Third time this month. Careful…I’m starting to get a big head.”
“That sounds like a medical problem…” He mumbled with little enthusiasm and a half-hearted smirk, “...should probably get seen for that.”
“Admitting you care, eh?” You teased. You were preoccupied, cigarette dangling from your lip and bobbing with every word. “What can I help you with?”
The receipts tended to be formidable, but you couldn't help but feel your concentration falter when you were met with uncharacteristic silence. Typically, you were shy of whiplash from an unwarranted insult or backhanded compliment. However, once your eyes landed on Buggy, you only saw deep anger veiling desperation.
“How serious is it?” Your pen was settled beside the book, whatever records you were once concerned with dismissed. Buggy looked awful—his posture gave away his exhaustion and discomfort.
“What? Can’t we skip the part where I say ‘the other guy looks worse’?” His busted lip ticked with dry humor. There were rumors he was in trouble, but that paled compared to the truth you knew about Buggy.
“Depends.” You frowned. “That other guy isn’t stopping by, is he?” If it were true, you’d have to lay low, something you never had time for. “This is why I don’t like your kind.”
“My kind?” Buggy continued unamused. You weren’t more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing to him. You were a smuggler. Plain and simple. It was impossible for something to stay hidden from you for long. “You’re not far off, sweetheart.”
His terms of endearment never held affection, but he seemed to soften this time for some reason—almost pleading between the lines. You held a trained expression, taking a moment of consideration.
Your typical jobs with him were small. Typically, they consisted of information that he could coax out of you for trinkets. He brought the world to you. Other times, you moved things through the shadows to an even darker location.
This was different, you decided.
Stalking toward the clown, you saw how the pain mapped on his body. “You look awful.”
The jester’s bow was fueled by pained sarcasm. Although his abilities helped, Buggy's flesh was still pliable. His jaw was a deep-set purple, contrasting the faded red of his cracked lips. It was hard to distinguish what was paint and what was blood. His eyes were bloodshot with broken blood vessels, and there were gashes littering every place imaginable.
You were surprised he was still standing. You noted how his breath became labored, as if holding onto what he could before he collapsed entirely. But looking between his eyes, you saw the struggle he had deciding what was worth his final breath: business or pleasure.
—
At the atrium of the town, your home went unnoticed. The average eye missed it, but those who could look past the unassuming home knew what lay behind the walls. You were particular with your arrangements, always done tightly and if challenged dangerously.
Buggy learned the hard way of earning your loose alliance. The scar you left behind cinched on his side, and sometimes, if he found you lingering in his mind, he swore he felt it ache. Yet, just being in your presence seemed to be the closest thing to a remedy.
“You can’t just show up like this.” Your scolding was shallow, there only as a buffer. You distanced yourself from the pirate despite the intimacy you provided.
The handful of candles in the room glowed yellow, highlighting the dark corners that threatened to swallow everything whole. Your fingers trailed various cabinets, pulling out necessities: make-shift gauze, old booze, and something loosely resembling thread.
“Then, don’t leave a key under your mat.” Buggy hadn’t bothered with the front door, stumbling through a window once locked. The so-called key was that he knew how to dance around your traps, dragging in an air of death.
“Hilarious.”
“Gimme a minute...” He raised his uncovered hand.“... I’ll come up with something better.”
The irony hadn’t set in yet, but whoever had hurt him made it personal. Buggy’s middle fingers were gone, not detached, but entirely ripped off.
“Oh—” You bubbled with laughter lightly, “—that must’ve hurt.”
“Well, aren’t you a twisted one?” Buggy’s tone was flat, but his eyes tracked you. He silently begged you to put him out of his misery.
“What’s twisted is you, Buggy.” The decision had already been made to help him, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t draw it out. “You come here asking for my mercy and expect it for free…”
Buggy’s throat went dry, his tongue barely able to wet his own lips without tasting blood. He leaned through your threshold, head hung, leaving a trail of blood with every uncomfortable shift. His breath was heavy, wheezing with effort to remain upright.
There was no use in prayers. The gore set the air with dust that could never settle; a blood-warm heat had set into your marrow, never to be forgotten; Buggy had been dragged to your doorstep like a cat bringing in fowl.
Buggy spoke low as if the neighbors would hear. He hadn’t even wanted to hear himself, knowing his desperation. “...can’t you play favorites for once?”
“That’s a trick question.” Your facade had slipped. Your response was a second too quick, letting warmth trickle throughout his chest.
Buggy’s ears rang at the admission. Your words filled the room and stuck like honey.
You were always thinking. You were intentional; everything was thought out, and if it wasn’t, you were still level-headed. It wasn’t hard to recognize his behavior patterns; he knew what he was doing. Finally, though, everything became a second thought as you reached him with intent, tilting his chin to expose his neck.
“Easy, puppet.” Buggy caught your wrist. The tight hold was a warning moments away from a fracture. “Pity isn’t your color.”
Buggy fed off cruelty that incited fear. It was foolish to think he could do the same to you.
“How naive of you to think this is what pity looks like.” Your voice was soft and steady, pent-up venom behind every word. “Before me is a shell of a man playing pirate—”
You paused to regain your wrist. Regret flashed over Buggy’s features, but he held onto every one of your words. His humor was his defense, and beyond that, he was pliable in your hands. There was little room for recovery.
“—don’t fault me for something you let get out of hand.” You finished.
Fear clawed its way up Buggy’s throat, determined to make itself known. It fought with another emotion he was too proud to name. He wasn't unfamiliar with loss. But this. The feeling was wild. Sentimental.
The small candles’ fire illuminated the room only so much, hiding the loneliness of the small space. Very little signs of life filled the room, but your supplies dominated the counters. It was a tick you picked up from the Marines that you couldn’t shake. On nights when sleep was hard to find, you would organize and filter through everything in preparation for nothing.
It seemed wrong to encourage the relief you felt, finally putting what you had to use. But its familiarity was oddly cathartic. So, with clean hands, you began.
“Lean forward—” You instructed. The chill in your tone softened as Buggy struggled. “—move slowly. Slowly.”
You’d already discarded his hat; scorched by the battle, it had lost most of its form. You moved slowly, calculated with every experimental touch. The years of back and forth and treachery never lead you to believe Buggy would be sitting at your mercy.
He grunted as you removed his jacket. It was tattered and drenched with rainwater. The leather of the chair protested against being ruined. Each layer removed revealed every minute it took for him to arrive.
“Were you shot? Show me where it hurts. ” You prompted bluntly. The training was still ingrained; your mind filtered through a clinical set of diagnostic questions, your hands moved with practice, and you were returned. “Dizzy? Light-headed? Anything like that?”
His skin pricked. Your touch tickled him, but he leaned into it fully. Buggy was used to touch hurting or leading to something that hurt. He put far too much faith in you, unlike the others. He humanized you. It would be a mistake if you did the same.
“No, no,” Buggy shook his head, the action unsteady. “My ribs—” He coughed with discomfort when you pressed against his side. “Fuck—”
Your hands were steady as you worked. The gauze was taut in the right places, and Buggy’s body finally relaxed. He received a good beating, but nothing bed rest would fix. While you tided, you rambled on about the possibility of a fever, infections, and whatever else came out of your mouth to ignore the feeling of his severe gaze.
“You’ve changed,” Buggy muttered sharply. He took in your entirety. You held yourself well; you’d matured into your confidence unrestrained. Without him, you soared.
“And you’ve fallen.” Your mouth fidgeted with a frown. Your head remained leveled with his, bandages secured at his temples.
Buggy’s bloodshot eyes darted between your own. He wanted to tell you that you were the brevity of his curse, his burden. His mind was always riddled with reflections, constantly ruminating about possibilities that could bring so-called success. You quieted it and saw him for what he was good and evil. He gave all of himself to you.
“Oh yeah?” He encouraged.
You only noticed now the position you were standing in, not entirely between his legs, but knees brushing with every motion. Intentional or not, Buggy took advantage, bruised knuckles, finding a place just shy of your pant’s fabric.
“I got you something.” He whispered. Buggy knew you well enough that the seed that only he could nourish had been planted. It was only moments before you’d cave. “Check my pocket; the left one.”
A strange feeling surfaced, pulling away, but you were enticed. Buggy learned your tastes, knowing you placed value on rarities. There was no rhyme or reason behind it, possibly besides the fact that each trinket was tangible evidence that you were on his mind. Therefore, there was no stop to the allure. You explored his discarded jacket, eagerness fueling your search.
“Jesus, Buggy!” You cursed from the texture alone. Buggy fulfilled his titles, always sporadic with his behavior and anger. The blood was warm and fresh, staining your palm as if making sure it was now shared blood on your hands.
You flung the nose to the floor, cartilage still firm and skin still stringy with the residue of its owner. The image alone told you everything. The scene was explicit—nothing could be saved from Buggy’s carnage.
“Oops.” He wheezed an ill-timed laugh. To be seated in the depths of your home, he still sought out an advantage. “Must be the other pocket.”
“It’s too late for your pranks.” You spat. Your kindness felt thrown back in your face. The faint embarrassment morphed into anger. “Don't you get this is exactly why I—
“I forgot, you don’t like my kind.” Buggy chose malice as his only form of self-preservation. The statement mocked you and your previous life sewing up Marines that Buggy most likely sent you. “How selfish to think everything is about you.”
Buggy detached his bandaged hand with the little energy he had left, going to the correct pocket. He let his defensiveness stew, already committing to the rash gift he’d brought for you. It was heavy on its return to you.
Reaching out, your heart dropped to your stomach. The glass was pristine, and the snowglobe’s inner frost moved your heartbeat to your ears. You refused to shake it, nervous your uneasy hands would break something so inherently precious.
Holding it tightly to your chest, your eyes were blown wide, pouring into Buggy’s. It was clear to you now the state he was in was of a transactional purpose. He offered himself for the trivial object. It spoke of the confusion of feelings that drowned Buggy. Pain became inherent to his life, functioning as a scale of value.
The greater the risk, the greater the reward.
“Do you like it?” Buggy’s voice surpassed the thumping in your ears.
When you were young, you threw things out of your bedroom window to learn how they would break. Many of them did not—the plastic dolls and plush toys landed safely on the grassy yard below—but the wooden toys did break, or at least they came apart.
One day, you found a snow globe. A winter village stood inside, with snow-covered roofs and chimneys shooting up into the domed sky.
This snow globe was the last thing you threw out of your window, not because your mother scolded you, which she did, but because this snow globe smashed so gloriously—an explosion of crystal, water, snow, and glitter, the village utterly destroyed —you thought you wouldn’t be able to replicate such destruction again.
It was bullshit then, and it was bullshit now. Moving and letting go was never in the stars for you. Or the tea leaves. Or in the deep lines of your palm. You were destined for destruction.
You’d told Buggy this once. Your state of inebriation fostered the interaction, the memory far more fuzzy for you than for him. It was told nonlinearly, but he followed it well as if he were then to witness it himself. He understood its value to you even if he couldn’t fully understand it. It wasn’t odd or facetious. It was your greatest regret that he became determined to restore.
“Yes.”
#q#buggy the clown#buggy#buggy one piece#buggy fic#captain buggy#captian buggy#buggy x reader#buggy x f!reader#buggy the genius jester#opla!buggy x f!reader#opla!buggy x reader#opla!buggy#one piece buggy#buggy d clown#op buggy
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jackie taylor x reader
how have I not written about her yet??? anyways, doing the lord's work (aka what shauna should have done).
everyone stood in shock, watching as jackie stormed out of the room after her explosive argument with shauna. you glanced at the door and back at shauna, unsure whether or not to chase after her or stay and comfort your friend.
tai was by shauna's side immediately, comforting her as the girl sobbed into her chest. still, none of the girls made a move to follow jackie outside.
you weren't stupid. it was hard not to notice how it was getting colder recently, or how all the animals were stocking up and going into hibernation. you knew winter was just around the corner, and feared that jackie could fall prey to it.
you didn't want to be that girl who followed after her, since shauna was a good friend to you and you didn't want to show her you were picking sides. however, you knew that if you didn't do something, no one else would; jackie was one of the most stubborn people you'd ever met, she wasn't going to come inside on her own volition. no, she'd have to be convinced.
at first, you found yourself standing above coach ben, who was still shocked from watching the argument unfold. "coach, you need to do something about that. jackie can't sleep outside," you whisper, glancing back to see if anyone was watching you.
he shook his head, "sorry, but I don't want to get involved in you girls' arguments," he replies, groaning softly as he moves to readjust himself into a better position.
"you're an adult. jackie will listen to you," you beg, but to no avail. ben shakes his head and refuses again, forcing you to look elsewhere. your eyes land on nat, who—granted held a bit of disdain for your captain—would surely see the consequences of leaving jackie outside to freeze.
however, you were no longer sure when travis pulls her in and whispers something in her ear; they both glance towards the door and you knew they'd be no help.
you stared out the window, watching jackie's pathetic attempt at starting a fire with pity. she really wasn't made for the wilderness, that was obvious. it was clear from day one she wouldn't contribute much, since all she'd done was complain, whinge and refuse to help with the chores. but you still remember the sweet and inspiring team captain on your soccer team; you can't help wonder what went wrong.
finally having enough, you quickly slipped outside, going unnoticed by no one. you'd take the dirty glares and rude comments if it meant coercing jackie back inside. you always listened to your gut rather than what people had to say, and right now, your gut was yelling at you to go talk to her.
jackie's gaze lingers on you as you sit beside her. after a beat of silence, she crosses her arms over her and chest and says, "if shauna sent you out here—"
"no one sent me out here," you reply, watching the flickering flames about to go out. it's silent again as you work up the nerve to beg her to come inside and she tried to work out why you were talking to her.
jackie sniffles, trying to hide the fact she'd been crying; it doesn't matter, since you can tell from her red eyes. "she's my best friend and she hates me," jackie mumbles, resting her arms against her legs and her chin on her lap. you're silent, happy to listen to jackie vent—it was for the best, because you weren't going to pretend to know anything about her relationship with shauna. "and you know what's the stupidest part? I don't even love jeff. . . I don't know if I even like him. she broke my heart and I don't know why."
"talk to her about it—and I mean talk, not argue," you reply earnestly, not sure how else someone was supposed to react to this situation. "you feel betrayed, and she feels overshadowed. you still have time to sort this out. fuck! we're in the woods and no one's coming to find us. you have plenty of time to tell her how you feel," jackie looks up at you with tears in her eyes. she's lost for words, and you smile at her gently, assuring yourself that she'd listen.
she shakes her head and sits up, however, making your smile fade. "no, she doesn't want to talk to me right now," jackie mumbles, kicking at one of the stones and accidentally sending it flying into the fire. "and I don't want to talk to her," she adds hastily, making you raise your eyebrow questioningly, "she's in the wrong, I shouldn't have to apologise to her," you roll you eyes at her stubbornness.
"fine, but I'm not leaving until you're inside with me," you snap. you watch her rub her arms up and down, and notice how chill the weather had gotten. was it always like this at night? how did jackie expect to survive through the night. "come on, jackie. I don't want to wake up in the morning to you looking like a smurf."
jackie burst into laughter, making you join too. "god, I'll be fine. don't worry. no frosty the snowman here," she promises. but you're no stranger to the cold. to snow. "I'll be alright, I just can't stand to look at her right now."
it falls quiet again, as you both mull over what she said. you can't help yourself, fearing the worst, you blurt out, "dying isn't worth it, y'know," she raises her eyebrows, "jackie taylor, you're the pettiest person I know. . . but to freeze out here because you're mad at shauna? that's a lot, even for you," you softly explain.
jackie scoffs, rolling her eyes before shivering again, "oh my god, I'm not going to die out here. I have a blanket, I'm wearing a jacket and a roaring. . . well, not roaring, but I have a fire," she points out. "it's not just gonna randomly snow in the middle of the night," you sigh, realising that she was convinced. there was no bringing her inside—and it was getting cold, even for you.
you bite your bottom lip, getting up to kiss her on the forehead. "I love you, okay? I don't want anything bad to happen to you," she looks up at you in shock, "come inside when you're ready, but please, don't stay out here all night. if not because of the weather, then because the wolves that attacked van are close by," she nods, and turns to face the weak fire again as you walk off.
"wait!" she calls out, standing up and chasing after you. your body fills with warmth as you silently rejoice at convincing her to come inside. "what do you mean you love me?"
you froze in your spot, feeling your heart race and your cheeks fill with heat. "I think you know," you reply, hoping that if she didn't feel the same way, she'd assume you were talking platonically.
jackie stares at you, breathing heavily, before she pulls you into a hug. "thank you, for caring enough to come out here," she whispers. you smile softly in return; she leans into you, kissing you gently on the lips. you were in shock for a moment, in complete disbelief that jackie liked you that way—that she liked girls that way. soon, you realised that the kiss was real, and that she wanted you; savouring the sweet moment, you mourned the loss of her lips on your own. "wow, your lips are so warm," you laugh at her, glancing back at the cabin ready to grab her hand when she flinched out of your grasp. "I'm not ready yet. . . stay out here with me?"
you nod, joining her to sit on the log again. you added some kindling to the fire as she snuggled up close to you. it was nice to feel her this close, and know she liked you back—even if it seemed like it was because she was lonely. it didn't matter to you, however, as you focused instead on the way she relied on you for warmth, and the way the flames danced.
after what felt like half an hour (but was closer to two hours) you notice the lights turning off, "it's cold, I'm going back inside," you announce.
jackie nods, "okay. I'll just be a little longer," she replies, shooting you a reassuring smile. you kiss her forehead again, and take sullen steps towards the cabin.
you glance at her once again, tempted to drag her inside, kicking and screaming, but you decide to leave her be. you receive dirty glares when you come back inside. you feel even smaller knowing you'd failed to bring her back in, so it was for nothing.
you accidentally lock eyes with mari, before glancing back at the ground. once you reached the fireplace to warm up, that's when the comments began. "of course you'd chase after jackie," mari snipes, shaking her head.
"it's so cold outside! I was worried she'd actually sleep out there and freeze," you reply, defending yourself.
you heard tai scoff, and looked for shauna, only to find her missing. "she chose to go outside," van mumbles, staring at the floor to avoid your gaze. you stare at her in disbelief.
you glance around the room, seeing no one agree with you—not even misty. nat and travis stared at the ground, also avoiding your eyes. "guys, now is not the time to be petty, she could've been in serious danger," you cry. no one responds, and you can't help but groan and roll your eyes.
"we saw you kiss her," misty announces. you look taken aback, but don't say anything. "three times," she adds, and you bite back the retort you were ready to sling at her.
instead you walk towards your bed, slipping under the sheets and pretending like you didn't notice everyone's gaze on you. eventually, tai heads upstairs and you hear everyone shuffle into their beds—but still no jackie.
your eyelids grow heavy, and as they do, you could swear you hear a door creak open. you smile in your dreamy state, knowing that jackie had finally come back inside. . .
"no, no, no, no, no!" shauna screams, jumping over you and racing outside. you jolt awake, your heart racing as you look around at all the confused faces of the girls. suddenly, it occurs to you, jackie's not one of them.
scrambling to your feet, you and tai are the first ones out the door after shauna. you have no idea why she's carrying on when you finally realise the ground had changed from green to white overnight. shauna was hunched over something in the snow, which at first glance, looked like a log.
it takes you a minute to process the scene in front of you; when it does, it feels like you've been hit by a train. your stomach drops and you feel your heart shatter into a million pieces.
shauna was on her hands and knees, screaming and crying while shaking her best friend. "jackie, wake up!" she wails. tai is by her side immediately, holding onto her and trying to comfort her.
your hand flies to your mouth as you begin to sob as well. no, no! this isn't right! jackie came inside last night! I heard her! you can't help but think. you could've sworn the door was opened. . . but here jackie was, covered in a blanket of snow, as you fell to your knees and mourned the girl you'd had a crush on since middle school.
you feel a pair of arms on your shoulders, as you lean into them for comfort, letting your tears run freely. you couldn't stand to look at the sight anymore without feeling guilty. you'd done everything you could, but was that truly enough? you should've done more! you should've dragged her inside! slapped some sense into shauna or the coach! you should have stayed by her side! tried harder to convince her! or at least kept her warm all night!
but you didn't, and you knew that would haunt you til your dying breath.
#fanfic#blurb#wlw#yellowjackets#yellowjackets showtime#jackie taylor#jackie taylor x reader#jackie taylor x you#shauna shipman#shaunajackie#taissa turner#vanessa palmer#mari yellowjackets#misty quigley#coach ben#he sucks in this honestly.#in fact they all do.#angst#no happy ending#character death#might be a trick ending?#anyways#canon compliant#lesbian#yj#yj fanfic#dani's fics <3
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[ID @agentdedf1sh : Your queen could fucking do something?! I thought she was just eye candy at this point.]
Oof, so OK. The very broad strokes version, leaving out a lot of major caveats: our system is a fudge between our desire to be a democracy and our reluctance to get rid of the monarchy because it makes us feel fancy and the one time we cut a king's head off it was upsetting and resulted in 11 years with no Christmas. The fudge is that the Queen has immense power but she can't use it. Now you might think "so functionally she doesn't have any power" and in ALL OF OUR EXPERIENCE INCLUDING HERS YOU WOULD BE RIGHT! [Mostly, see the link above.] But it is theoretically possible to engineer circumstances in which the fact that all that power is legally, constitutionally still there would become horribly relevant after all.
So here's how it works. Only the Queen has the power to appoint or dismiss a Prime Minister, who governs for her! Because she is the Sovereign! The PM can't dissolve parliament or call elections without her permission! So that's clearly not democratic, how can we make it so? Well, she only gets to appoint someone who commands confidence in the House of Commons. The simplest way that happens is like this:
There's an election
One party gets a majority of seats, i.e most MPs in the House of Commons support the leader of that party.
The leader of that party goes to the Queen and says "I'm here from Parliament, they want me to form a government, may I do that, please?"
She has to say yes even if she hates their guts, and now that person is Prime Minister.
So, in all of our experience, only 1 & 2 actually do anything and 3 & 4 are just a silly little ritual that doesn't matter and we just let it happen to be cute. The Queen is not supposed to be involved in politics and she "gives permission" to whoever Parliament tells her to give it to.
And if the leading party or Parliament as a whole wants to dump a Prime Minister? Well they have various ways of making it clear that It's Over, and the PM goes to the Queen and resigns, of course! NOTE: Going to the Queen is the only way a PM can quit and despite how the press are reporting Johnson's "resignation" he has not done this.
EXCEPT. Like certain other *cough the US* systems the whole thing hangs together on the assumption that no one would ever be a dick about any of it. But what if they did. What if the leading party, or Parliament as a whole, voted to get rid of the Prime Minister and he just ... didn't go to the Queen and resign?
In that scenario, MPs could make it impossible for him to govern, but they couldn't actually, legally, fire him. They have no constitutional power to make him not Prime Minister any more. They've never needed that power before because it's always been taken for granted that any PM rejected by their party would of course honorably accept their fate. The only person who has the until-this-point entirely theoretical power to sack the PM? The Queen.
Parliament COULD go ahead and elect a new leader who could duly go to the Queen and say "can I be PM please?" But that still wouldn't, in itself, de-Prime-Ministerify the existing PM.
So this would put the Queen in a positon where only she could fire the rogue Prime Minister, and she should because she's supposed to honour the will of Parliament. But there is no Parliamentary mechanism for prompting her to do this, and it would certainly look and feel a lot like getting involved in politics, which she's absolutely not supposed to do. Especially as in this scenario the PM probably still has at least some MPs supporting him -- so essentially we're imagining a scenario where Parliament has torn itself in two and by sacking the PM the Queen would be picking a side!
So what if -- being very old and frail and finding herself in a situation she's never been in before and which was never supposed to happen, a situation where instead of just rubberstamping the request to be PM of anyone in front of her as she has her entire adult life, she has to make a decision ... what if she makes the wrong call?
Hopefully, after today's events, this is all interestingly theoretical now.
But as I say. Johnson has not actually resigned yet.
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Mine
I wrote this whilst drunk. Im still drunk so there’ll probably be mistakes and there all mine.
Notes: fluff, angst, possessive Bucky? happy ending.
Bucky/Reader various.
Your eyebrows furrowed and you scowled narrowing your eyes dramatically as you drew your straw between your lips. The sweet honey whiskey and soda flowed gently over your tongue.
Beside you Peter Parker giggled.
You ignored him. “I fucking hate that bitch.”
“Now now,” Peter Quill, the barman, chastised. You gave him the finger.
“Bugger off Quill,” he returned the sentiment as he walked away, clearing your view.
You sighed in irritation. “What were you wanting to happen?” Wanda asked softly.
“A sinkhole, big enough for her, to swallow her,” you muttered darkly.
“Are there sinkholes in New York?” Pietro asked.
“There are sinkholes wherever the fuck I want sinkholes to be,” you muttered darkly. You took another sip of your drink and waved at Quill for a refill.
There was another loud laugh and her hand brushed down Bucky’s chest.
“I also am suspicious of her,” Zemo leaned close. You elbowed him in the gut and he drew back with an oaf.
“Oh for fuck sake here comes fanboy number three,” you glowered as Sam walked through the door followed by Joaquin. Jay had the decency to roll his eyes and head towards you leaving Sam with Steve and Bucky to fawn over Sharon.
“She’s overrated,” Jay said taking the seat next to you.
“Thank you!” You cried.
“At least you have more friends than her,” Pietro said.
“I am honoured to be part of this friend grou-“
“NO!” You, Peter, Wanda, Pietro and Jay called.
Zemo pouted and you drew your attention away. In another life he’d be cute but he was, well he was Zemo.
Sharon had slid her arm around Bucky’s waist and his arm was on her shoulders when you looked back. Sharon was cooing at how cute Steve and Sam were as a couple. You imagined crushing her windpipe, but you were no special agent. You were just a normal girl with a normal life who happened to fall in love with your fuck buddy neighbour who was none other than Bucky Barnes.
“I could take her out,” Pietro said. “It would be so fast no one would know.”
You considered this but dismissed it. Instead you ordered another drink. And that’s how you found yourself dancing with none other than…Zemo.
God you hated his pretty smug face. “God I hate your pretty smug face.” You said.
Zemo didn’t care, just wiggled his hips. Behind him Sharon was dancing with Sam but she kept glancing back at Bucky.
This morning you woke in his arms, his lips dancing across your shoulders but now you hated him. Your chest hurt and you wanted to sit in a corner and scream like a petulant child. Instead you returned to your seat as the song ended.
Bucky moved over beside you and you studied his profile out of the corner of your eye.
“What?” You asked.
“What are you doing?” He nodded towards Zemo.
You followed his gaze. “He’s…cute.”
Bucky snorted and you turned to look at him. “You could do better.”
“You and Sharon looked cosy earlier,” you said.
“Yeah she’s a good girl,” Bucky murmured looking her way.
You made a face and took a drink. Bucky was looking at you again. “Meh, she’s not all that.”
“You don’t like her?” Bucky asked.
You shrugged a shoulder. “I hate her,” you admitted.
“Why?” Bucky sounded genuinely confused.
She’s got you, say it say she’s got you.
Instead you shrugged. “It’s a vibe I get,” you muttered. “She seems like your type, pretty, fit, skilled. You should date her.”
“She asked me out earlier,” Bucky admitted.
You nodded in understanding. This morning was the last time you would be with him. He’d move on and so would his friends and eventually you’d be a memory.
“Where are you going?” You asked. Your body ached, your heart most of all. You weren’t pretty it sexy enough for him. Bucky wanted a girl like her. You could already imagine them together.
“Said no,” Bucky told you. You turned to look at him. “I didn’t like it when Pietro hugged you earlier. Or when Zemo danced with you.”
“Why not?” You breathed.
Bucky leaned close until you could see the blue of his eyes. “I was jealous.”
“Jealous?” You cocked your head. He smiled again.
“Jealous. I wanted to cut their hands off for daring to touch you,” he growled as he leaned closer. You couldn’t resist resting your hand on his chest. His dog tags were nestled beneath his shirt.
“Touch me?” You repeated.
Bucky’s smirk was wide. “You’re my girl, and I’m about sick of other people not knowing that,” he said.
You made a fist, catching the tags under his black tee and pulling him closer. He tasted of whiskey and musk and Bucky and you sighed into his body. His kiss was hot and his stubble rasped against you but you didn’t care.
Cheers erupted around you and there were a few catcalls.
“About time,” Quill muttered darkly.
“Bucky. I’m drunk. I want to go home and have lazy sloppy sex.” You said kissing his cheek wetly.
“Yeah?” He asked as he looked at you. You nodded, and together you walked out of the bar. Before you left you caught sight of Sharon glowering your way. Bucky’s arm was on your shoulders and you snuggled closer to his body blowing her a kiss as you passed by. You didn’t see her response but you guessed what exactly it was.
Smiling, you leaned into your boyfriend as you walked home.
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