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#always welcome in any instances
quietlyimplode · 11 months
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Hi,
I’m going back and forth about whether I’m going to post something for BWfest 2023. If I did, it would be a preview of my next WIP in the style of a movie or tv show promo commercial
Sounds like fun :) As I mentioned you’re so very welcome to post - wips and previews as upcoming fic completely count. <3
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daisiesonafield-blog · 11 months
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Hey D, now that larry is viral on tiktok, are there new larries coming to your page? Or the drama stayed on tiktok?
Ummm 🤔 I’m not sure. I think most of the tiktok fandom isn’t even aware of tumblr 😩 so even when these things go viral, tumblrs May see a few extra people join, but not much more unless you’re linking things.
And tiktok is notorious for not linking, giving credit or giving context so
😬
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fairyysoup · 11 months
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i can see you
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♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎
pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.
aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it
words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)
cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift
a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon
ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…
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Hawkins High, September 1984
He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.
That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.
You stare a lot.
It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.
You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself. 
That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!
It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.
You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something. 
You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.
God, you wish you could kiss him.
Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.
“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you. 
You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.
Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again. 
“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.
You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder. 
And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway. 
Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you. 
He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it. 
“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”
You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”
Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.
He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”
“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does. 
I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.
You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”
You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.
Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.
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‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…
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Hawkins High, April 1985
Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will. 
Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.
It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.
You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.
Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.
You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.
Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.
Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.
You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive. 
A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.
Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again. 
They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.
What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying. 
Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.
You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will. 
You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).
You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.
Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him. 
He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.
We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.
He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.
Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you. 
It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.
You know too well what that feels like, right now.
Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.
But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.
You didn’t even think he knew your name.
You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”
Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”
He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.” 
“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience. 
You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”
“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”  
“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.
“The guy’s a fucking douche.”
“Tell me about it.”
“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”
“Billy Hargrove?” 
Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”
You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”
Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.
You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”
You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. 
Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.
Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’
Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing. 
You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.
“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.
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But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?
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Prom Night, May 1985
The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.
Except, well.
Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.
The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth. 
You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”
“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile. 
You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”
Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.
Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.
You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.
As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.
You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?” 
“I’m not sulking.”
You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?” 
“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”
“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”
He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night. 
But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.
“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”
You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”
“Who?”
You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”
“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.
“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”
“Kelly Palmer.” 
You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”
“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.
You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.
“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”
You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”
“Yeah, I hope not.” 
“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”
“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.” 
You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”
He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens. 
“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.
“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”
“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face. 
Steve Harrington is touching your face.  
His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.
Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.
You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.
Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”
Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.
“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him. 
“STEVE??!”
You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.
She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.
You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile. 
“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”
Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer. 
Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.
You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 
He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.
Wherever there is, it’s not with you.
Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.
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And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…
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Starcourt Mall, June 1985
“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”
“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”
“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.
Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana. 
Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.
You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.
Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”
It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it. 
You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation. 
But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you. 
Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.
You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.
He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”
“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”
“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”
“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.” 
“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”
“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”
“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”
“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”
Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”
You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”
“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.” 
Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.
The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.
“Are you ready?”
“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.
What did you say? What did he say?
“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.
“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”
“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”
Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”
“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”
“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.
You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’
“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.” 
“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?” 
“I can dig a few sprinkles.”
“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.” 
“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.
He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”
You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.
You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.” 
“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”
You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror. 
He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”
“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”
“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself. 
You like it a lot. 
You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”
“What? No, I couldn’t-”
“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”
“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”
Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”
You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.
When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.
You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.
You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.
Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”
“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”
“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?” 
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.
“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”
“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”
Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”
Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours. 
The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”
“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”
“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”
“I made it up.” 
Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.” 
Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?” 
“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.
“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”
“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?” 
“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.
He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.
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You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…
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Family Video, March 1986
The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.
Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night. 
This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.
The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own. 
You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.
“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”
You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.
You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”
“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”
“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”
“So, right after I last saw you?”
Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?” 
“I wish.” 
You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return. 
You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.
You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.
You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted. 
You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”
Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”
“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”
Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”
“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?” 
Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?” 
“I’ll be here.”
“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away. 
“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly. 
Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!” 
Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”
“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”
“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”
Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?” 
“No.”
“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.” 
“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?” 
Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him. 
“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.
Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”
Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.” 
“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.
Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.
Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy. 
If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count. 
He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.
Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.
Oh.  
“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.” 
“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”
“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”
“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section. 
You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.
You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”
“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.” 
Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”
“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.
“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.
You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”
A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”
“I know.”
“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals. 
“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly. 
“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking. 
“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”
He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.
He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.
“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers. 
Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst. 
You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.
“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”
“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”
“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.” 
Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.
You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?
“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack. 
Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop. 
Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.
“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”
Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.
And again.
And again.
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And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…
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Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991
You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices. 
You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant. 
As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”
“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”
“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” 
Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.
Logan Sawyer.  
“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.
As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.” 
“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.
Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.
“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”
“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.
“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”
You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.” 
Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York. 
You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt. 
“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”
You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.
Oh my fucking god.
It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-
“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm. 
Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?
“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.
“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.
You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.
He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?
Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.
“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.” 
You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”
“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?” 
Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”
“Great. I’ll have that, please.” 
Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”
“Are you serious?” Theo snaps. 
“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”
Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”
You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date. 
You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”
“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away. 
Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”
Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.
“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”
“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”
“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”
“My father owns the company.”
“Right.” God, help me. 
Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel. 
That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying. 
Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.
His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.
As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.
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I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…
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Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite. 
You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones. 
Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time. 
You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. 
Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things. 
“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”
“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”
“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”  
You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”
Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”
“You just said-”
“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”
Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”
“It was fine.”
“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…
“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve. 
You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”
Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box. 
“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”
You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him. 
When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”
You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.
You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box. 
Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms. 
“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check. 
Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”
“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day. 
Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes. 
There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind. 
The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms. 
The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”  
You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you. 
He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now. 
Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours. 
You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.
But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco. 
It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building. 
You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him. 
Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.
“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”
“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”  
He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?” 
“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open. 
Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.
“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you. 
He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”
“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.” 
Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”
You don’t have to ask him twice.
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What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…
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The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.
“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”
You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”
“The price.”
“The price.”  
It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.
“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice. 
“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”
“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”
He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.” 
“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”
“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.
“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”
Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.
The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.
Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.
Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.” 
“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?” 
“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”
“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you. 
He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.
You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”
“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.” 
Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”
Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.
You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”
“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”
Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out. 
Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.  
He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.
Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?” 
Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.
Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”
“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”
“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”
You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor. 
Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open. 
Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”
“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”
He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”
Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you. 
“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”
His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”  
Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”
“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”  
“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”
You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit. 
You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”
He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”
You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom. 
He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye. 
“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders. 
You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.
“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”
Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”
“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”
He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.
You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?” 
Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”
Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”
He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”
Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”
Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”
“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”
Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.
Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.
He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours. 
“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.  
“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”
“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”
Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”
“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do. 
Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started. 
Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.  
You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”
Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”
You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”
“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”
He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.  
Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning. 
You want him to do it all over your body.
Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips. 
Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind. 
Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.
“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline. 
“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”
Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him. 
But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?” 
His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.
“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”
“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”
You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”  
“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?” 
How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?
“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?” 
“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”
You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”
“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.
Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.
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What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…
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You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows. 
You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.
You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.
There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.
You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.
“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”
Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose. 
Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.
You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”
He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?” 
“The ice cream, or the porn?”
He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”
He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.  
But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.
Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.
“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”
“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”
“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.
“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork. 
That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”
“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”
You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.
Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself. 
“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”
“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”
Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.
Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.
“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
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(I see you, I see you, baby.)
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4K notes · View notes
shroombloomm · 6 months
Text
so high.
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cw: degradation, size kink, praising, hair pulling, mention of drugs (weed.), and sexual content.
pairing: drug dealrry/baldrry x mc.
The cold night held thick air, still in the darkness as Jules drove one handed down the road. A blunt between her lips, she knew this would be the last of her stash until she went to see her dealer. The thing about her dealer, though, was that he was consistently fucking busy. It was always so hard to get a hold of him, so she either had to buy in large amounts or she had to start texting him at least a week before she was going to run out. 
The schedule worked out perfectly this time around, just as she was running out of weed, he had texted her to come through to reup. So Jules did just that, smoking the last of what she had while on the way to his house. The soft acoustic tunes trilled through the stereo, humming along to a song she just found online not many days ago. She didn’t know the words, but she liked it. 
Her pointer finger and thumb pinched the skin of the blunt, taking the last puff and inhaling deeply into her lungs. Jules held it as long as she could before she started to cough up a lung. Smoke bellowed from her nose as she rolled the window down and threw the butt out with ease. 
Ahead, there was the house she grew familiar with. The front porch lit up to welcome her, she pulled into the driveway and threw the car into park. When Jules stepped out of the car, a cloud followed after her. She couldn’t help but to chuckle, knowing the entire neighborhood was going to know what she was doing prior. 
On the front porch, she knocked and waited. After a few moments, she contemplated pulling her phone out to text him. It was bitterly cold and the sweater she wore was not giving her enough warmth. 
“One sec!” He shouted from the other side of the door. 
Jules pushed herself off of the wall, crossing her arms over her cold chest. When the door opened, she locked eyes with her dealer, Harry. 
“It’s about time,” She joked lightly as he moved to the side to let her in, “It’s cold outside.” 
“Sorry ‘bout that, doll,” Harry sighed, closing the door behind her, “I was smoking in the other room.” 
Despite knowing that, there was still a thick haze at the top of the ceiling. Jules chuckled, shaking her head. She sat down on the couch, letting out a relaxed sigh. Harry rounded the coffee table, kneeling down in front of her; Harry was styling a bald look with bright blonde hair, a loose black sweater on with black pants. A cross earring dangled from his right ear to match the same necklace around his neck. 
“That’s alright,” Jules hummed, “How have you been?” 
“Been fine,” Harry mumbled, taking a bag of weed from underneath the table and setting it onto the glass top, “How much are you wanting this time?” 
“With the way you reply, let’s say a quarter this time.” She smirked softly. 
Harry bit down on his tongue as his lips quirked upwards into a smoke, “Cheeky.” 
Harry and Jules weren’t strangers, they were actually really good friends. When she started to smoke in high school, Harry was the only one that she knew to get from. He was the dealer of the school, but of course that was very hush hush. She’d remembered when she first smoked with him on top of a bridge, overseeing a busy road. 
Truthfully, Jules had always found Harry a bit attractive. There was an instance in high school where her pick me friend had basically outed her feelings for Harry. At that time, Harry was in a relationship with one of the popular girls; which was funny because historically, Harry couldn’t fucking stand any of the popular girls. 
But, lord, did he fucking love Naomi. 
So, in truth, Jules never really dated anyone because she had always had eyes for Harry. Sure, she had eyes on a few people throughout the years, she was an adult now and she didn’t want to get caught up on an old crush from some years ago. Jules had dated multiple men throughout the years that never truly satisfied her needs, plus they weren’t really down with her constantly smoking weed. 
It wasn’t that weed was a crutch, it definitely wasn’t. Jules used it for her anxiety and depression. A lot of people didn’t understand that. 
But Harry understood that. 
“Did you want to smoke before you go?” Harry threw a baggy towards her, “That’s gonna be sixty, by the way.” 
Jules pulled her wallet from her purse, shuffling through her bills before placing the exact amount onto the table and taking the plastic bag.
“I just smoked, but I wouldn’t say no,” Jules broke into a smile, putting the weed into her tote bag. 
“You’re just so greedy, aren’t you, Jules?” Harry teased her as he plucked a wrap from one of the packages, “How’s work been?” 
“It’s been fine, really,” Jules let her cheek rest on her hand as she watched Harry clear the cigar of its tobacco, “And I guess business is going fine with you?” 
Harry hummed, nodding to her. His thumbs brushed against the wrap to flatten it, sticking his tongue out to lap up the inside of it. Jules’ lips parted, her tongue sticking out to swipe her bottom lip. Entranced by the small action, her cheeks heated up. She cleared her throat, shifting in her seat. 
“It’s been fine, yeah,” Harry finally said, swallowing the peach flavor of the wrap, “Sorry I’ve been too busy to get with you. Maybe we can plan something soon, y’know?” 
“I’m down for whatever,” Jules shrugged. 
Harry sprinkled the weed into the wrap, then proceeded to roll it carefully. While he rolled it up, his lips worked onto the wrap, his tongue poking out to lap the wrap up to keep it firm. This had reminded her of the time that she smoked with him on that bridge, watching him work on the blunt; it was such a simple action, but the fire still sparked inside of her. 
It was something about not being able to have something that she desperately always wanted. Maybe her crush from the past was starting to spark inside of her again, or maybe it was the thought of his head between her legs that made her want him. If his tongue could work wonders on the blunt, commanding it to stick delicately together just for him to burn it later, then she’d wondered what kind of trouble they could’ve gotten into together. 
“Here,” Harry said as he pinched his lips with his pointer finger and thumb, handing the blunt, “You can spark it. I’m gonna get a couple of drinks. Do you want anything?” 
“Erm, water?” Jules placed the blunt between her lips. 
“Can do.” 
She dug through her pocket for her lighter, then flicked the flame alive to light the blunt. From the earlier blunt, her throat was dry and she was desperate for something to coat her throat. She coughed lightly into her fist, staring down at the perfect pearl of the blunt. When Harry came back with a couple bottles of water, he placed it down on the table in front of her and sat undeniably close to her. 
“Can I have that, please?” Harry’s two fingers wiggled towards the blunt. 
“Mm, yes.” She handed the blunt to him. 
Leaning forward, she grabbed the bottle of water and twisted the top off. The coolness of the water hydrated her and brought her back to life. She drank almost half of the bottle before sitting it down on the table and turning her gaze back to Harry. 
Harry’s head was tilted back against the couch, eyelashes long and fluttering until his eyes closed. His cherry lips wrapped around the blunt, cheeks hollowing as the blunt burned bright red from his inhale. The smoke entered Harry’s lungs, and Jules was entranced as his Adam’s apple bobbed when he pulled the blunt from his lips. 
She almost blushed, she couldn’t stop staring at him. Harry still held the blunt, bringing his hand down to his thigh as his leg bounced from keeping the smoke inside his lungs. A breath of release and a large cloud flooded the area. The edge of his jaw could cut, perfectly slim and simple as his mouth stayed wide open to let out the smoke. 
When Harry turned towards her to pass the blunt, he caught her staring. Jules quickly turned her head, looking ahead towards the TV that she could barely hear; the volume was down low. Jules hated that, she wished that it wasn’t so quiet, if Harry stopped for a moment, he could probably hear the way her heart picked up when he caught her staring. 
“Here,” Harry brushed her thigh with his hand, sending a soft wink, “Take it.” 
When Jules felt his fingers brush her thigh, it was undeniable that her body reacted temperature wise. Sure, smoking could make someone much warmer, but she felt fucking hot in this sweater. Obviously, it was due to him, but she would never say that out loud. 
“Have you ever shotgunned before?” Harry said through his sip of water, his voice was lazier from the intoxication of the weed; each word dripped and oozed slowly from his lips. 
“Yeah,” She snorted nervously, “I have.” 
When she took another hit, she looked towards him and blew the smoke out. The silence was deafening and she wished there was some sort of noise to distract her from the way his eyes burned into her. Her gaze went to the blunt. 
“Do you want to shotgun?” Jules hesitantly asked, her voice shaking under the thought of potentially getting that close to Harry. 
Harry chuckled quietly, removing the blunt from her fingers, his cherry lips wrapped tightly around the end of the blunt as he sucked in a loud cloud of thick smoke. When the wrap left his lips, a small cloud of smoke escaped past his lips, but nonetheless, he still held the remnants in his lungs. His fingers curled towards her, motioning her to move closer. 
Jules didn’t have much time to think, the longer he held the smoke in his lungs, he would surely choke on it and have a coughing fit. Her body scooted towards him, to which his arm snaked around her shoulder; she felt his fingers caress the back of her neck as he leaned in. His tobacco vanilla scent infiltrated her nose, causing her cheeks to warm and her head to become dizzy at how intoxicatingly delicious he had smelled. 
When Jules locked eyes with Harry, she studied the way his eyes were different shades of red, she could barely make out the dark green in his eyes. He was heavily intoxicated by the weed, but so was she, and she couldn’t rip her gaze from his eyes. He blinked once, moving in dangerously closer, while his fingers pinched the back of her neck. 
She parted her lips just as Harry nodded upwards to her, his Adam’s apple bobbing from still holding in the thick smoke. What seemed like a lifetime, only lasted seconds. The shadows casting over her were due to Harry’s face being mere inches away from her lips, if she had moved her lips just the slightest, they could’ve locked with his. 
Harry’s nose nudged with hers, then settled on one side of her face as his lips parted and circled into a pretty ‘O’, then slowly, surely, blew the smoke into her mouth. Jules inhaled as much as she could, feeling the burning sensation down her throat until it started to strain her lungs. Eyes fluttered closed for mere seconds, and when she opened them, the overcast of Harry had departed; no longer being clouded by the cologne of his. Still, she blew out a nervous breath as the ghostly smoke barely spilled from her lips. 
“Shit,” She coughed lightly into her hand, leaning towards her water bottle for coating. 
“I’ve always loved shotguns,” Harry told her with his lips quirked upwards into a smirk. He shamelessly liked making Jules flushed and nervous; she was a shy girl anyway, and sometimes he wondered just how shy she could be. Or if it was a cute girl facade. Regardless, he enjoyed the way she avoided eye contact after their mere contact, “Alright?” He chuckled quietly. 
“Me?” Jules still tried to remedy the burning sensation in her throat, but she feared this was no real way to remedy the other burning sensation that rested between her thighs. 
“Who else would I be talking to, Jules?” He tilted his head, resting his hand on top of the small hairs of his head, brushing his fingers over the buzzcut of his, “A ghost?” 
“You’re high enough,” She joked, giggling as she sat her bottle on the table, “I wouldn’t put it past you to see some shit.” 
While Harry wasn’t hallucinating, he had to take a second glance at the way her thighs were clenched tightly together and her gaze was forced to the TV with a flustered smile. Harry enjoyed watching the impact he had on others, even if it meant it being his best friend. Truthfully, it crossed his mind a couple of times what Jules would look like underneath him. She was peachy cute, quiet, and chill. Just like he was. 
If Harry were to hook up with anyone, it would be with her. He was sure they would click so easily together. 
“What’re you staring at?” Jules finally broke the silence, catching his lustful stare that hid behind the glossy look in his eyes. 
“What do you think I’m staring at?” Harry mumbled, lips taught upwards with a smirk as he placed the half smoken blunt into the ashtray, “Here’s a hint, it’s not a ghost.” 
She pushed her lips to the side, trying to ignore the bubbling in her stomach. Jules knew that answer to that question, but she didn’t want to get ahead of herself. She didn’t know if it was the weed, or if the tension had just appeared, thick in the air. 
“I don’t…” Her voice trailed off, mousey and quiet. 
“You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” 
The words floated in the air, not giving her enough time to react to the compliment, or to the sudden fact that she was getting hit on by one of her good friends. Her drug dealer. Someone she had a crush on for a long fucking time. The air around them became thicker when another body brushed up against hers, glancing out of the corner of her eye, Harry had moved closer to her. 
Silence filled the air. She dared not to fully look, if she wanted to bite down on the goofy smile on her face and hide it away from him, she shouldn’t look over. She wouldn’t. She won’t. But Harry’s stare was burning into the side of her face and it made her want to sink into the couch and never come back up. 
“So shy all of a sudden?” Harry’s breath hit her ear and her breath hitched. His cherry lips parted softly, using the pads of his fingers to brush against the jawline of hers. When she didn’t turn her head to look at him, he wondered if he had mistaken the tension; if he was just high, or did she really want him like he wanted her in that moment?
“Is this okay?” Harry asked quietly, bushy brows furrowing in deep concern of the blurred lines. 
That made Jules turn her head. She couldn’t tell if Harry was joking or not, if he was just trying to test their friendship, or if he really wanted her like she did. Jules parted her lips softly, her tongue swiping across the dryness of her lips as she locked into his dark gaze. She only gave him a small nod. 
“Words, darlin’,” He cupped the underside of her jaw, tapping her lips lightly with his thumb, “Let me hear those words.” 
Jules swallowed thick, trying to keep her eyes from closing just from the smallest touch; yet it sparked her skin and set her alight in ways she hadn’t felt in so long. 
“Mhm, yes,” She whispered soft as a feather. 
Harry licked over his lips, studying the features of her flustered expression. Her brows were slightly pinched together, thighs clenching and unclenching together, and her bottom lip threatened to quiver. His thumb traced over her bottom lip once more, dragging it to the side before sliding his thumb down to pull the lip down. 
Boundaries weren’t tricky, yet they were walking a fine line on their friendship. That didn’t matter, not when they were high, not when they were both wanting the same thing at the moment. The warmth of Jules' mouth had taken his thumb into his mouth. Harry’s eyes blew wide in surprise, yet not very. Somewhere deep inside of her, she was not shy, and Harry knew if he pushed her enough she would show the side where she could let the little devil come out of her and play. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry chuckled quietly, shifting his hips on the couch as he gave her a small once over, “It’s like that then, huh?” 
This new found confidence in her dazed mind, and Harry’s reaction, was enough for her to push the boundaries and see how far they could walk this line before they both toppled over it together. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, steading his movements, as her tongue started to slowly trail around his thumb. Hollowing her cheeks and sucking it deeply, showing off the skills that Harry desperately wanted to test. 
“Naughty little minx,” Harry commented, trying to ignore the half chub in his briefs that grew from anticipation. Maybe the lines didn’t exist at all, maybe the lines were a made up rule, or maybe it was a rule that didn’t apply to them; either way, Harry still pumped his thumb in and out of her mouth and pressed down on her tongue just to hear her gag. 
The taste of his thumb satisfied her, but she wondered what other parts of him tasted like. Many nights she laid awake, wondering, thinking; dreaming of him growing inside of her mouth. Jules knew she could satisfy him, she was confident about that. One small pop sounded between them, Harry’s thumb now cold as the air hit it, and Jules’ mouth still watering and awaiting more, deeply in anticipation. 
“Kiss me.” 
Those two words, shattering the tension in the air within seconds. Jules’ couldn’t believe the words that left her. A weight lifted off of her, but another weight brushed against her chest instead. Harry’s fingers were wrapped around her throat, taking her bottom lip into her mouth to taste the sweet indica they had smoked earlier. His lanky body pressed against hers, the sweater giving a facade of bulk, yet when she reached out to touch his hip, it was petite. 
He assaulted her lips in a feverish kiss, bruising her bottom lip between his bunny teeth as he bit on it, pulling on it, and sucking it harshly while his fingers pinched the skin around her throat lightly. The fire inside the both of them were only fueling the flames much higher than before; the room burned with fumes of euphoria and lust, rolling each other up and smoking each other to become addicted to the pleasure they could offer each other. 
Letting off her lips, she inhaled sharply at the realization that this was, in fact, really happening. Every part of her wanted to take off her clothes, but slow and steady always won a race; one that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to win. 
“You taste so sweet,” Harry’s voice rasped out in a sharp breath while his lips continued to kiss around her neck, his hand resting on her shoulder as he squeezed it tightly to ignore the throbbing in his pants, “Fuck, I want more of you,” His tongue lapped up the side of her neck, nibbling on the supple skin. 
“Shit,” She hissed at the feeling of his bites and kisses. Jules couldn’t refrain from anchoring her body down against his, letting her legs open. Harry caught the hint, nessling between her thighs and pressing himself tightly against her front as he bit down harder on her neck, “Fuck! H-Harry–,” A choke of moans blurted from her. 
“Want to taste more of you,” He mumbled against her skin, “Won’t you let me? I know you must be fuckin’ soaked.”
“Mmmph,” Jules almost choked on the thick swallow, feeling his hardened member pressed tight against her front. She wasn’t sure how long she could take the foreplay, even if it just started; she knew that the moment Harry touched her, she would fight her for life not to come too soon, “I want that,” She whimpered, “I want to feel your mouth on me.” 
Harry’s large hands pushed up the sweatshirt that she wore, and she accompanied him in taking off her top. He awed at the sight of her body, leaning down to kiss the valley of her chest while his hand traced over the top of her breast; giving it a hard squeeze, he kept his lips on her skin until he hit her belly button while letting his body slink down. 
“Your body is so fuckin’ hot,” He mumbled softly, giving the button on her pants a kind kiss before undoing them, “Can’t wait to see the rest of you. Taste the rest of you.” 
Her chest was rising and falling under the anticipation, watching as Harry peeled her pants off of her and exposed the white laced thong she wore. Harry smirked wide, creating dimples in her skin as he kissed her inner thigh, letting out a hum of appreciation. 
“This is a sight to see,” Harry taunted, parting his lips as his two fingers swiped up the front of her underwear, a beautiful trace of arousal lightly coating his fingers, “Wet. Just as I suspected,” He teased, then stuck his tongue out to lap up the arousal, it was light and sweet, almost making his head dizzy from the taste, “Tell me something, Jules,” his thumb placed the swollen pearl of hers, flicking his dark gaze up to her, “How long have you been this wet for me? Be truthful with me and I’ll make sure to take care of you, darlin’.” 
There was a thin layer of sweat on her forehead, the temperature in the room had heightened by what seemed like a million degrees. Her throat was dry, continuously swallowing the saliva. Jules’ eyes fluttered down to Harry, tongue barely poking out to wet her lips. 
“A while,” Her voice shook, flicking upwards into exasperation as his thumb started to circle around the swollen clit of hers, “F-Fuck, that feels really good.” 
“Wonder how long you’ve been wanting this,” He teased softly, moving in closer between her legs, his breath hot on her clit as he spoke, “If you’ve been dying for this scene. Me, between your pretty thighs, eating your pretty little cunt.” 
Words, they weren’t available to her. Jules’ drew a blank in her mind, and just as she opened her mouth to respond, a long drawn out moan escaped instead. Harry’s tongue pressed hard against her clit, his two fingers pushing her panties to the side as his tongue began to flick upwards between her slick folds. Describing the feeling of being ate out while high on weed was almost impossible to her, the feeling was so intense that she could barely keep her hips still. 
But Harry helped her with that, of course, he was a lovely gentleman and wanted to get the job done. His free hand made sure to hold one side of her hip down. The warmth of his mouth was enough for her stomach to swirl and her thighs shake, the tip of his tongue teasing the arousal between her folds as it dripped down onto his chin, then using just the tip to circle carefully around the swollen flesh that needed it the most. 
She was in heaven, or maybe a made up heaven that her mind made her see. Either way, she was in the clouds of pleasure. Jules’ back arched upwards as her hand went to his head, fingers curling into the buzzcut, just for her fingernails to dig deeply into the palm of her hand. A gasp, a moan, a whimper, a plead. 
His tongue was working magic, but when his fingers plunged into her hole, she let out a mere cry that made her thighs close around his head. Harry chuckled deeply, removing his head from her thighs while he pumped his fingers and out of her at a steady pace. He watched as her body withered underneath him, face scrunched in pleasure, while she silently pleaded for him in short breathed curses. 
“How can I let you cum if you close your legs, pretty girl?” Harry coo’d softly, using his hand to force her thigh back down, “Is it too much, hm? Can barely take two fingers f’me?” 
Jules’ whimpered, trying to relax her legs enough to make room for him. 
“It–it feels so–good,” She breathed out as her eyes rolled back into her head, trying to catch her breath. 
Harry curled his fingers into her cunt, watching her body react to him.
“I know, darlin’, I know,” His voice was laced in fake sympathy as he dipped back down between her legs, “And I’m gonna take such good care of you, too. Just need you to be a good girl for me.” 
When Jules felt his tongue back on her flesh, it was merely over for her. She was approaching her first orgasm of the night, something inside of her was telling her this wasn’t going to be the last one either. One of her legs hooked around Harry’s neck as she brought him closer, his tongue assaulting the swollen flesh at a quicker pace, while her moans and whimpers echoed through the living-room. 
A long drawn out whimper of his name escaped her, then silenced her as euphoria flooded her veins. Stomach tightening, her body froze as she drenched Harry’s chin. His tongue slowed its pace, but still relentlessly rode her orgasm out until she was pushing her body away from him from the burning sensation of the over sensitive area. 
Harry’s head popped up from between her legs, chin glistening with her arousal, and a lopsided smile on his lips. Jules looked so fucked out of her mind, chest rising and falling while she tried to catch her breath. He rubbed her thigh slowly, leaning down to kiss down the valley of her chest once more, then the top of her breast. 
“I’m not done with you yet, Jules,” He mumbled against her skin, “Need to bury my cock inside of you, hm?” 
“Mmmh, yeah,” Jules nodded her head softly.
“Mhmm, I know, honey,” Harry coo’d as his fingers hooked underneath the string of her thong, pulling it down her legs and flicking them to the floor. 
Jules unhooked her bra as Harry took his sweater off. They both discarded their clothes to the side. Harry’s lanky body had carved parts that were prominent, his hips making a sharp V line that disappeared down to his pubic bone, complimenting the ferns that looked so pretty between the sweet happy trail of his that disappeared into his pants. 
She couldn’t not notice the veins in his hands as he undid his belt. Flexing, twitching until his fingers wrapped tightly around the belt and pulled it off with a loud snap. The sight made her mouth water; remembering the one time that she had ever seen him shirtless, but this was different. This was intimate, this was for her; he was hers, just for the night. 
When he removed his pants, his thick cock sprung from his briefs. Pretty and complemented by the bush of pubes around his member, red and angry, yet soft and pink in some places. Harry’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking down the veins that displayed across his cock as he took in the sight below him; Jules body, beautiful and all his, perfect in the ocean waves of her hips and clouds of her supple breasts. 
“Gonna take my cock f’me?” Harry drew out in a half moan, tracing his hand up the back of her thigh as he brought her ankle to his shoulder and held it there. It took everything inside of him not to shove himself inside of her already, but he needed to know she was ready; which Jules very much was. 
“Fill me up,” She begged in small whines, reaching out to touch the carved V line of his, fluttering her eyes, “Stretch me out and fuck me dumb, please?” 
Fucking hell, Harry thought to himself as his eyes rolled back into his head. 
“ ‘M not one to disappoint,” He licked over his lips, tapping his cock against her cunt softly, watching as his tip lathered around her arousal through her slick folds, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re fucked dumb.” 
The tip of his cock brushed against her wet cunt once more, hips steady as he pushed forward. She was fucking wet, but still tight around his cock. His thick girth stretched her out in ways that she hadn’t had anyone do before; yet he was doing it. Stretching her out and making her body crumble underneath him. Harry let out a string of curses under his breath as he leaned over her, one hand on the couch, curling his fingers into the fabric just as his bottomed out to the hilt. 
“That’s good, taking my cock so good,” Harry breathed out, a growl vibrating through his throat as he pulled his hips back, just to snap them harshly against her, earning a moan from her, “Fuck, just like that. Y’sound so fuckin’ heavenly.” 
Jules whimpered underneath him, wrapping her one leg around his hip and bringing him closer. The shadow of his sharp jawline casted over her as he nearly hid his face into his arm in pleasure. Thrusting, hearing the sounds of skin to skin, arousal meshing, their  moans intertwining in the room and spinning in the air together. Harry’s hand cupped one of her breasts, parting his lips as he caught her mouth with his. 
Jules used her hand to cup his cheek as she overtook him in the kiss. His tongue lapped messily around her bottom lip, to which hers met his, rubbing against each other as they made out feverishly. Sucking lips, moaning into each other’s mouths, and Harry’s hips messily snapping against hers. His head was burning with the warmth wrapped around his cock, her cunt barely accommodated his cock, which made Harry work that much harder to fuck her. 
All while desperately trying not to fucking bust. He needed to slow down, or it would’ve been over in seconds. It was almost not fair. Something he desperately wanted in the moment, being ripped away by his shortcomings. If he could make it a few more minutes with her tight cunt wrapped around him, he’d be considered a winner. 
Harry broke the kiss, leaning down as his lips perfectly wrapped around her nipple and his tongue slowly licked at the skin, eyes shut closed. She had never come from nipple play before, but her core was nearly flooded and throbbing with pleasure. Harry gazed up at her in wonder, the noises she made made his cock drip with each mewl. Ever so often, she would go back to grinding, but the way he worked her nipple had made her go still. It was like she couldn’t bear to move. If she moved, she would certainly cum.
Her fingers digging into the couch, and her nose resting at the top of his forehead, she begged him for more. Small pants and breaths left her as she ground her hips against his cock, toes curling as she whined to herself. The pleasure was so much that she wanted to fucking cry from how good it felt.
“Keep sucking them, p-please, p-please don’t stop–” She nearly cried. 
With each kitten lick, she drenched Harry’s cock, only making him more proud of the way he made her feel. The adrenaline rushing through him, the pleasure, it was blinding; having such a gorgeous thing laid out in front of him, and getting the honor to have her. 
But, he wanted more too.
Adjusting his hips, he slowly, painfully, thrusted his cock up into her–the slow pace was enough to make her cry. Tears welled against her waterline as she bit down onto her knuckle, her orgasm was slowly inching more and more.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she buried her face into his shoulder. He let off her nipple, kissing up her breast slowly as he nuzzled his face into her neck, continuing to thrust up into her. The sudden emptiness made Jules mewl out in desperation, only for Harry to grab her hair and force her to her hands and knees. 
“Look at you shaking, can barely take my cock, ” Harry breathed out, slapping his cock against her ass with a huff, “So pathetic, I fucking love it. Watching you like this. Never thought I’d see the day you’d cry over how good I fuck you.” 
“F-fuck…you,” Jules whined quietly, closing her eyes as she pressed her ass against his cock. 
Harry sat pretty on his knees behind her ass, his cock in his hand as he slowly pushed back into her pretty hole. He let out a guttural moan, tilting his head back with his Adam’s apple bobbing as he continued to buck his hips in and out of her. 
“Trust me, baby, I will.” 
He grunted out, thumb trailing down to her hole, rubbing it in circles as his hips snapped against her skin harshly. 
“God, I fucking love your ass,” He hissed out, “So fucking thick. So full. Gorgeous, really.”
“P-Please…” She whispered.
“I know, baby,” He chuckled out, taking both hands as he spread her cheeks apart, then shook them carefully. Spreading them apart, he could get a full view of how his cock slid in and out of her. It made his spine shiver.
She grumbled, hiding her face as the euphoria nearly sent her over the edge of an orgasm. Harry hollowed his cheeks, then spat onto her other hole before rubbing the wetness around it slowly.
“You like that?” He taunted.
“Y-Yeah, please keep rubbing it, feels really good,” She whimpered with a beg as she looked back at him. Harry smirked wide, snapping his hips to burrow his cock deep into her.
“Keep talking like that and we’ll have to switch holes, darlin’.”
Jules could barely hold it together, her cunt dripped around his girth as he stretched her out. It was impossible not to come, but she needed to make this last; each thrust was contradicting her thoughts, his tip brushing against her spot delicately, making her thighs clench and voice mewl out in long, sultry moans while his fingers dug into her ass. 
Harry slowly pulled out of her, letting out a half broken moan as he fell back onto his ass. Jules, utterly fucked, looked from behind her as Harry patted his lap and curled his fingers in a come hither motion. 
“Come ride me, dollface.” Harry mumbled, fucked. 
His thighs were toned tight, the way he looked with his thighs spread and chest heaving up and down; glistening with sweat, Jules moved herself into his lap and pressed her mouth against his into a hard kiss. Harry grabbed her jaw, handling his aching cock underneath her as she eased down onto it once more. Her hands found his chest, curling into his skin as she felt his thick girth fill her back up, her mouth opened against his as she mewled out a desperate moan.
“Gonna sit still for me, let me do all the work for you, yeah?” Harry brushed the stray hairs from her forehead, kissing the underside of her jaw as he rocked his hips back and forth. 
Her stomach was burning, thighs shaking from the tip of his cock grazing her spot with each thrust. She placed a hand against the back of the couch, panting out as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Harry cupped her breast, slowly kissing it as he whispered sweet praises to her. 
“I said sit still,” His voice was firm, yet sweet, his jaw clenched as he felt her walls pulse around his cock. She let out a soft whine, clutching his forearms tightly. Jules was close, there was no denying it anymore, she would surely spill on him any time soon. 
“It feels–god!” She cried out, pinching her eyes shut tightly. Harry chuckled darkly, one of his hands roaming to the back of her neck to grasp the roots of her hair. “Just like that—,”
“Be a good girl and shut up f'me, okay? Tongue out,” He used his other finger to tap her lips slowly. She whimpered, doe eyes glued down to him as she poked her tongue out slowly. He smirked, forcing her head to come closer before sliding her tongue past his lips.
He sucked her tongue, massaging his own against it before flicking and kitten licking it carefully. At the same time, the force of his thrusts rocked through her, harder, faster, Harry was peaking in his own orgasm. Her stomach was on fire, feeling like she was going to explode into a million pieces. Harry’s hand slowly roamed up to her stomach, past her belly button and to her nipples.
His two fingers pinched, twisted and flicked at them as his other hand took her hip and made her grind against his cock at a quicker pace. She cried out, nearing tears as pants left her. Harry felt her pussy start to become drenched, her walls throbbed in agony as it signaled that they were both reaching heaven, right where they wanted to be. 
Taking a handful of her breasts, he squeezed it harshly. He started to buck his hips up into her cunt. Her fingers dug into his skin, eyes rolling back into the back of her head as her stomach began to twist for the second time this night. Mewling out, her head tilted back from the pure bliss that filled her veins. 
Jules’ forehead rested against his, pleaing, whining, only ultimately to be given what she had wanted in the first place. Harry smirked, letting go of her tongue before taking her hips into his hands and watched as she fell apart on his cock.
His attention to her details, her body moving with each twitch and cry, and the beautiful feeling that overcame his cock; he let out a throat ripping moan right as he orgasmed deeply inside of her, just as she finished the same time. They held each other tightly, breaths staggered and tired as they relished in their high, just to come down from it moments later. 
“Fucked dumb, baby?” He chuckled out.
“So fucked dumb.” Jules whispered back to him.
1K notes · View notes
locusfandomtime · 4 months
Text
Doing the maths: Grian's failure at getting a mending book
lots of talk about maths and probabilities below the cut! but there's a graph and simple explanation at the end if you want to get the gist of it and are bad at maths.
(I am still young and learning maths, critique/advice always welcomed)
What are the odds of getting a mending book in Minecraft?
(I am assuming Grian has been doing all his fishing with Luck of the Sea 3)
The probability of a mending book is actually a bit annoying to estimate. The Minecraft Wiki lists fishing up an enchanted book as 1.9% chance. This is for ANY enchanted book. The Minecraft wiki talks about how the chance of an enchantment being selected is calculated. Mending has a weight of 2. Using the table, mending has a probability of 2/135.
However, Grian is looking for any book with mending, not just a pure mending book. Additional enchantments are calculated in a different way, involving RNG, which means it won't be as easy to model. Due to this reason, I'll just be using the odds for a pure mending book throughout.
TLDR: a mending book has a 0.028..% chance (2/135*0.019*100)
Grian's Data
According to this screenshot, Grian has used a fishing rod 5679 times. This number may not be fully accurate, as it includes the times he's fished other players, rather than just fished for items, but it is a good estimate.
To help visualise this data, with a median waiting time between catches of 17.5 seconds, Grian has spent over 20 hours fishing so far! He may have a problem.
Is this statistically significant?
Hypothesis testing (p-value approach):
H0: p = 19/67500 (the null hypothesis - he has no mending books because of chance)
H1: p < 19/67500 (the alternate hypothesis - he has no mending books due to different odds)
5679 trials, 0 mending books
X ~ B(5679, 19/67500) (binomial distribution, 5679 tries with a probability of a mending book being 19/67500, where X is the number of mending books)
p(X=0) (what is the probability the number of mending books being 0)
p = 0.2021473392
Now, the point at which data becomes significant is subjective. For instance, you *could* get a million heads in a row flipping a coin, it's not impossible, but at a certain point, you can begin to say "okay there's something not normal about this". For this approach, the closer the p-value is to 0, the more evidence there is against the null hypothesis . The p-value here is far above a significance level of 0.01, or 0.05, or 0.1. There isn't a clear line between significant/non-significant, but this is answer is quite a bit far from 0
With this, I cannot reject the null hypothesis.
Personal conclusion: this is not statistically significant, Grian is just unlucky.
Are other values statistically significant?
Gem's proposed 9000: results in a p-value of 0.079... more significant than Grian's number but I don't imagine Mojang would be too concerned. As said though, it's all subjective.
I am bad at maths, what does all this mean?
Here is a graph, showing what number of mending books you might have after 5679 tries. The height of the bar represents the probability of getting that amount. The numbers at the top are the (rounded) numbers I used in my calculation
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The pink column is 0 mending books - like what Grian has! As you can see, it is less likely than getting 1 or 2 books, but not too uncommon to happen.
End conclusion: Grian has bad luck. Like, not as hilariously bad as he thinks, but still bad. If he keeps going, chances are he will get a mending book, but I think he should probably stop fishing because at this point he has a problem.
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cc--2224 · 1 month
Text
I'll Show You Heaven
Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader
Summary: Crosshair was always someone of interest to you, much to the other clones’ dismay. When he hears a Reg disrespecting you, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. You were told that there was no point trying to fix him, but you knew you could handle dangerous; although it turned out that to you, he wasn’t dangerous at all.
Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Alcohol and smoking mentions; drunk clones being assholes including one putting the reader in a dangerous/uncomfortable situation but nothing happens! Smut - masturbation, Crosshair having dirty thoughts, oral (m and f receiving), biting/marking, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it!!, praise kink, one instance of Cross being too rough but he corrects it, porn with feelings, language, tons of compliments/pet names, jealous maybe slightly protective Crosshair
Notes: Very slightly based on the song I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
Word Count: ~6.4k
Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!
Masterlist
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It was just another day. The haze of smoke lingering in the bar, the loud laughter and chatter amongst the patrons, and him. 
You had gotten to know most of the regulars at 79s, including Clone Force 99, but you never made it a point to become their friend. The clones, usually drunk, would flirt with you endlessly, but never the 99s. They kept to themselves, and you had learned over the months that they weren't very popular with the others.
You hadn't considered there were social hierarchies among the clones, but you supposed they were no different than any other group of people.
You traced the smoke back to the tall, silver-haired man. He sat at one of the tall tables, not quite facing the bar, but enough that you could see his sharp features silhouetted by the pulsing lights. 
He never looked pleased to be there, he seemed to have a permanent scowl, and you couldn't even recall a time where he said more than three words at a time, and none of them kind. 
And while these might be negative traits to most, but to you, these traits mixed with his deep brown eyes that you had caught on you once or twice, and the smirk that came along with it, the expression of an all-too-confident man, only helped to draw you in to him. 
You had a feeling that he was one to put up a front, wall himself in so that he didn't appear vulnerable. it made sense for a soldier, but there was a part of you that wanted to see what he was like when the walls came down.
"Hey! Cyar'ika!" You heard from behind you, you turned to face the clone holding his glass up to you. "You gonna give me a top up or stare at the reject squad all night?"
You rolled your eyes and turned to him too quickly to see the sharp glare of the man you were just staring at point at the rowdy clone. After refilling his glass, you set it down in front of him and gave him a warning, "Everyone is welcome in my bar, and everyone gets attended to while they're here. Understood, trooper?" 
Before he could answer, you walked toward the centre of the bar, making a point to keep an eye on all your patrons so they wouldn't also get the wrong idea about who was getting more attention. Your eyes naturally wandered back to where the 99s were sitting, briefly meeting with the same brown eyes you had been silently admiring just moments ago, the tattooed crosshairs outlining one of them perfectly. 
He turned his head back toward the rest of his squad but you could almost see him glance at you through the corner of his eyes at least once before you were called away again. 
"Y'know what?" The loud clone called out again, "I think you should just come home with me. I could make you forget all about them." He jerked his head toward the 99s. 
"And I think you've had too much to drink." You chided, ignoring his request for another top up.
"C'mon," He groaned. "If you're gonna cut me off, you should at least make it up to me. Wanna come home with a real man? I bet those 99s could never measure up to us if you get my meaning. Whattaya say, copikla?
Several clones laughed at his words, your Mando'a wasn't perfect, but based on their laughs, you assumed it wasn't nice. 
Before you could get security to kick him out, you heard a chair scrape against the floor and then the crack of knuckles on flesh. You didn't even see the tall clone cross the bar before he was laying into the loud one.
You ran out from behind the bar and tried to pull him back, as much as you didn't want to, you also didn't want him to be permanently banned either. 
Once he noticed you pulling his arm back, he stopped. 
"What's going on?" One of the security guards had come over, hearing the commotion.
"Nothing," you said before gesturing to the floor, "He had too much to drink. Best if he goes home."
The security looked at you carefully, making sure you were okay before helping the clone to his feet and walking him out of the bar.
You sighed and returned back to where you were standing before, watching the other clones glare but cautiously move out of the way of the 99.
He started walking back to his table before pausing and turning to look at you, his features almost seeming softer now. 
"You didn't have to cover for me." He said, a toothpick lodged between his lips.
You shrugged, "He was getting on my nerves, deserved the punch if you ask me. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay." You smiled up at him. 
You could handle yourself, you've been working at 79s for a while, you knew how unruly people could get when alcohol was involved, and as much as you could handle people yelling at you, you didn't like when your regulars hurled insults at groups who were just minding their own business. Especially when, to your understanding, they got enough of that back on their homeworld.
He hummed in response.
"Can I get you guys anything?" You asked after a brief silence had fallen.
"No, we're heading out. See you around." Almost on cue, the rest of his crew stood up and began to leave.
— — —
“You shouldn't have done that.” Hunter warned him quietly when they had returned to the Marauder.
Crosshair shoved past him to get into the ship.
“Regs will always take each other's side, if you get reported for starting a fight…”
“Again,” Tech chimed in.
“I'll deal with it if it happens. Regs are probably too drunk to remember anyway.” 
“Why'd you attack him, anyway?” Wrecker asked. 
His eyebrows furrowed, “Didn't you hear him? He was treating her like his little pet.”
The others looked at each other, seemingly sharing the same thought between them.
Hunter's voice didn't betray his thoughts, “Even still, you should go back and apologize. Probably scared the poor girl.”
Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter's order. 
“No promises.”
He went to his bunk and discarded his armour, laying on his bunk in his blacks. He couldn't seem to get your face out of his head. The way your eyes met, how you took his side even though his squad was right, he did start the fight. Your smile when you made sure that he was okay.
This wasn't the first time he had seen you, but it was the first time the two of you had ever spoken; he didn't do small talk, Hunter and Wrecker did.
But he wanted to talk to you again, he wanted to see you again, see you smiling up at him. 
The more you crept into his thoughts, the more he couldn't get you to leave. 
Eventually with the solitude of his bunk, his thoughts got the better of him. He imagined how you would look, naked and squirming under him. How you'd taste, how you'd feel around him. 
He couldn't shoo these thoughts away, he found himself palming his cock over his blacks at the thought of you taking it into your mouth. 
He had been with others before, but it was rare for him to feel like this. Usually when he’s with someone it’s just to get his own release, but thinking of you was different. He wanted to make you come, to hear you cry for him, to feel you come on his cock, on his fingers, whatever you’d allow. 
He wanted you, all of you. And he couldn’t stand the thought of some Reg pretending to flatter you just to get you into his bunk. You deserved better than that, you deserved someone who would treat you right, make you feel good, someone who could be good for you. Someone like him.
He reached his hand into his blacks, pulling himself out and stroking it. He let his mind continue to wander, imagining everything all over again as a loop. He thought of your voice, telling him how good he was, telling him how he was made for you, how no one else could satisfy you like him. He thought of marking your neck, your tits, your thighs. 
As he began to reach his climax, he stroked himself faster, he thought about filling you up with his release, he didn’t know where, whether it was your throat or your cunt, he just knew he wanted to come inside you. 
This thought sent him over the edge as he spilled out over his hand with a groan.
He knew it wasn't right to think this way, he didn't even know you, but he also knew there was no way for you to know what was going through his mind.
But would it be so bad if you did? 
— — —
Something about his expression when he finally came back to the bar was different than it had been a few days ago. Not bad by any means, just not how he normally looked. 
Part of it was likely due to the fact that he was in civilian clothes instead of his armour, nut most of all, his ever-present scowl seemed softer, and he didn't wear a smirk when he noticed you looking at him, instead he almost seemed nervous. 
He walked toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, scanning to make sure none of the gathering clones were the one from a few rotations ago. 
"Can I get you something?" You asked him with a smile.
He blinked like he still somehow wasn't expecting you to talk to him after what happened, but then shook his head. "No, nothing."
He sighed, looking down at the counter in front of him. "I wanted to..."
You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"My actions the other day, that wasn't okay."
Your face softened into a small smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing to apologize for."
"Did the Reg apologize to you?"
"Oh, no I haven't seen him, but like I said, nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it." You told him nonchalantly. His gaze snapped up to meet yours and his eyes narrowed.
"Used to it? Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be assholes to you." His voice raised slightly.
"Really, it's fine. I'm just sorry you had to hear him talk about your squad like that for so long."
He laughed quietly and used your words back at you, "We're used to it."
Neither of you said anything for a bit. You worked on pouring another glass for one of the other patrons at the bar and then turned back to face him.
"I see you guys around here often, but until the other day, you and I have never spoken, I'd like to change that.” your kind smile at him caused his heart to pound in his chest, but when he didn't answer, you continued. “You have a name, trooper?" 
"Crosshair." 
You smirked then told him yours. 
"Where's the rest of your squad today?"
"They stayed back, wanted me to make sure you were okay. But since you are, I should be going."
He was out of the stool and heading toward the door before you could convince him to stay. He needed to clear his head, it wasn't like him to feel so reserved and shy, but he felt your presence hammering on the walls he had built for himself and he didn't know if he was ready for them to come down.
You watched him as he left and smiled to yourself. Was he really concerned about your opinion of him so much that he came all the way here just to apologize? Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the other trooper kept his distance. Either way, seeing him was always a treat, and now you had a name to go with his face.
"I'd be careful of him." One of the clones said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"Clone Force 99 isn't known for following rules. They have the highest success rate out of any squad, but the way they complete their missions goes against most protocols we have. That one, Crosshair, he's their sniper, a dangerous one at that, and definitely not a friendly sort of person, someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. Not someone you can just fix with that pretty smile of yours." 
You listened to him as he warned you, but even still, Crosshair and his squad intrigued you. You wanted to get to know them better.
Crosshair had caught your eye from the moment you had first seen him, and now the gap between you was finally starting to close.
You wanted to be his friend, but you were also curious about being more than that. You wanted to see what he was like when the two of you were alone. Was he sweet? Was he demanding? Was he some mix of both? 
You wanted to know what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, how he'd feel. Thoughts that sparked a flame in your core. You didn't know if you'd ever get an answer to any of them, but the world worked in mysterious ways.
— — —
Once everyone had cleared out and you got some cleaning done, it was finally time to go home. 
It was late, too late to be wandering around the understreets of Coruscant alone, but you knew the most direct way back to your apartment, and had a blaster set to stun, just in case.
You turned down the alleyway, and you saw a figure push itself off the wall and walk toward you. 
"Awful late, isn't it?" You could hear the faint accent of a clone, and the audible slurring of one that had too much to drink.
"Come on, copikla, let me walk you home."
He stumbled toward you. When he came into the light, you could see the black eye that Crosshair had given him, still purple and blue despite the days that had passed.
"I'm fine, thank you."
"Don't be like that, I wanted to apologize and do something nice for you. C'mon." He got closer to you and you felt your hand shake as you reached for your blaster.
"There's no need for that," He told you when you had the blaster fixed on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Then go back to your barracks, trooper."
He smirked, "Y'see the other day, your friend from the reject squad, he gave me this-" He said as he pointed to his eye. "All because I gave you a compliment, so really, you o-" 
Before he could finish his sentence you saw a blue bolt whiz past you, hitting the clone and stunning him.
You turned to see where it came from and at the other side of the alleyway, Crosshair stood with a pistol drawn.
He walked toward you, "He hasn't had a very good week." He pointed out, looking at the clone on the ground before bending down to look at his armour, looking for his identifier.
"What are you doing?" 
"Getting his ID. He'll probably be sent back to Kamino for a while for breaking protocol."
He brought his comm up to his face. "Tech, I’m sending you coordinates and a trooper ID, arrange a pickup."
"Copy." You heard the distorted voice through the comm link before Crosshair began typing in numbers.
"You seem confused." He said, looking at you now.
"I thought your squad didn't care about rules and protocol."
He smirked, "Regs have been talking about us, huh? That's true, we do our own thing and don't take orders very well but.. we wouldn't put a civ in danger in a dark alleyway, he should have known better."
"Well, thank you for helping me, but.. how did you know I'd be here?"
"I didn't. After I left the bar earlier, I went back to our ship, but there aren't many places there to think quietly so I went for a walk."
"I see. I guess it's a good thing you were here. I have a blaster for my own safety, but I froze." You looked at the gun in your hand and sighed.
"Don't worry about it, the Coruscant guard will be here before long to deal with him.”
He turned on his heels and began walking away and you watched him before looking down.
“Crosshair?” You called out before he could get too far.
He turned to look at you again but didn't say anything.
“I'm not too far but.. could you walk with me? I just…” You trailed off looking at the stunned clone at your feet.
He walked back over to you, “Of course.”
He was silent for the remainder of the walk, but he walked with you to your door.
"Would you like to come in?" You asked as you punched in the key code.
"You sure?" 
You nodded and the door hissed open, you walked in, followed by Crosshair.
He looked around your place, it was small but it was inviting.
He knew he should have just gone back to the Marauder, but part of him wanted to make sure you felt safe, and another, much more hidden part of him thought that if you had invited him in, maybe his thoughts of you hadn't been as one-sided as he thought.
"Make yourself at home." You told him.
He sat on the small sofa in the living room, his arm draped over the back, and you stared at him, remembering what the clone had said at the bar. If Crosshair really was someone to look out for, you didn't see it. You would even go as far as to say that he was being kind to you. 
"Like what you see?" He asked when he caught you staring at him, his tone slightly huskier now that he was indoors. 
You rolled your eyes, and walked over toward the couch, sitting at the opposite end from him, but turned to look at him.
"What does copikla mean? I know cyar'ika and mesh'la because I get those a lot from the regulars, but that guy was the only one to call me that."
He looked at you and frowned slightly. "It means cute, but in a way you'd say to a child or a tooka kit, not a woman. That Reg wasn't paying you a compliment when he called you that."  
"I see. And that's why you jumped him?"
"I had enough of him long before that point, but yes."
You didn't notice that as you spoke, the more distance had been closed between you and Crosshair until your knees brushed lightly.
"What if it were a compliment?" You asked.
"I guess it depends on how you reacted, if you weren't comfortable." His eyes bore into yours now. "But you seem to like the compliments from the Regs." 
You shrugged, "As I said earlier, I'm used to it." 
His hand moved toward you, gently caressing your face. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips brush against your skin and you leaned into his touch.
"Would you react the same if I complimented you?" He asked, his voice a little more than a whisper.
"You could try." You answered. “See what happens.”
His hand traveled down to rest on the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking your jawline. 
He shifted slightly closer to you, eyes half-lidded. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it with how quiet it was in the room.
Crosshair leaned over to you and looked into your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, and when he didn't find any, he pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't demanding, but it wasn't gentle either. You could tell that this is what he had been thinking about when he said he had to clear his mind. 
Neither of you had been sure if the other wanted this, but when your lips connected, you both figured it out.
His tongue pushed into your mouth and he swallowed the moan you gave when you tasted him.
His other hand had made its way over to you, resting on your waist. Your hands rested on his chest at first, but slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.
He sat back to look at you, leaned against the arm of the couch, lips starting to swell, pupils dilated, and he smirked.
"You're beautiful." He told you. You knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, but his voice was sincere. 
You could feel yourself getting warmer, and your stomach beginning to coil with the dull ache you felt between your legs. 
You slid off the couch and gently took his hand, pulling him up with you.
He seemed confused for a moment, so you clarified.
"Figured you'd want somewhere a bit more comfortable."
His smirk returned, "Presumptuous of you."
"If I'm wrong, we can continue to sit here."
"Oh no, you’re not wrong. Lead the way, mesh'la." 
You had heard the Mando'a compliments so many times they didn't even feel like real words to you, but Crosshair saying it brought new life. 
When you didn't move, he leaned in to kiss you, but you ducked out of the way and began walking to your room.
He watched you walk away, slightly offended when you dodged his kiss, but that disappeared when he looked at your hips swaying, beckoning him to follow you. 
When you walked into your bedroom, you turned on the lamp beside your bed before sitting with your back to the pillows, watching the door for him.
He entered slowly and you finally took a good look at him. He seemed much taller in your apartment than he did at the bar. You eyed him from head to toe, feeling your core clench slightly when you noticed the raised outline of his crotch straining against his jeans.
"Come here," you said, your voice low.
He walked around to the end of your bed, crawling over you with one leg on either side of your ankles.
"Closer." You breathed. 
He moved upward, hovering parallel to your hips, eyes fixed on your core.
"Good boy,." You praised him. You didn't expect him to groan at that, but as if something ignited in him, he dipped down, kissing your stomach, then your hips, and moving down to kiss your thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, looking up at you to ask permission.
"Yes, please, Crosshair." 
He worked your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop, throwing them to a corner somewhere once they were off. You gasped when you felt his lips on your upper thigh, slowly trailing higher.
You arched your back slightly, desperate to feel him, but he smirked against your leg, biting into the soft flesh, before kissing the mark he had left. 
He moaned when he felt your fingernails scratch against his scalp, trying to guide his head when you needed him.
He left another mark on your other thigh before licking a stripe from that mark all the way to your centre.
Your back arched again, pulling his face closer to you.
"You like that, mesh'la?" His voice vibrating against you.
"Y-yes!" You threw your head back in pleasure when you felt his tongue circle your entrance before swiping up between your folds, tasting all you had to give him.
"G-good boy, keep... keep going." 
His hands found their way to your hips, holding them in place, you were certain that he was going to leave bruises on each one but you didn't care.
His lips clasped around your clit and he sucked so hard you saw stars, and then he went back to using his tongue, circling the bud slowly, trying to pull every moan from you that he could.
"Say it again." He said against your centre.
"Say what again?" You teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.
"Call me a-" He licked you up and down again, not finishing his question.
"Oh, you want me to call you a good boy?" You asked sweetly.
He rutted his hips against the bed as his tongue dove into you.
You cried out his name. The intensity of him drinking you up had begun to build and with it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone. You were so close, you could feel your walls clench around his tongue, and he pulled it out.
You looked down at him in time to see his hand slide down from your hip, and he planted two fingers inside you, curling them against your walls.
"Go-good, you're so good, Crosshair, know just what I want." 
He groaned, grinding against the bed again before adding another finger, drawing a cry from your lips.
His thumb took over for his tongue against your clit as his long fingers worked on opening you up. He placed gentle, yet desperate kisses wherever he could, nipping at your soft flesh.
"Cro-Crosshair I- I'm so close."
He sucked another mark onto your thigh and groaned when he felt your hand tighten around his hair.
Your hips bucked as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release.
"That's it, come all over my fingers." His voice coaxed you further, "Let me feel you."
His tongue went back to your center, working circles around you again as your walls continued to clench around him.
It didn't take much else to pull the orgasm out of you, you cried out his name as you came undone, legs twitching and hips bucking as he continued to work you through it.
He pulled his fingers out of you, and kissed your center once again before leaving a trail of kisses up toward your neck, slowly lifting your shirt as he went before it, too, was thrown into the corner of your room. He nipped and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving you another mark before kissing your jawline and lips once more.
He was perched above you, leaning on one of his elbows while he straddled your hips, his jeans doing little to hide the feeling of his stiffness pressing into you.
“How was that, beautiful?” He asked you, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Perfect,” you replied. “I think you deserve some attention now too, for being so good to me.” He bucked his hips involuntarily into you.
He brought his hand up to cup your face. His fingers still wet from your slick. He rested them against your lips before pushing them past. You moaned against his digits as he pressed them against your tongue, making you taste yourself. You circled each of his fingers with your tongue before sucking on them gently. He pressed his head into where your shoulder and neck meet as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, thinking of nothing else but how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.
“Do you want me to fuck you, cyar'ika?” 
“Gods, yes, but first I want to taste you.”
His cock twitched against his jeans.
“I didn't know you could read minds.” He said, his voice low.
“I can't, I just know how I want to reward my good boy.” 
Before he could say anything else, he got up from you and sat back on his heels, undoing the button on his jeans, and unzipping them just enough to relieve some of the strain. 
You sat up and crawled toward him, resting your hands on his thighs, looking up at him for any sign of discomfort before you pulled on the waistband.
“You know, it's not very fair that you're so covered and I'm not.” You told him with a mischievous glint in your eye.
“No? Well, we can fix that.” He quickly pulled his shirt off before throwing it aside, revealing his toned chest. Your hands brushed against his abdomen and he sighed. You began idly tracing the outlines of his muscles and scars, and he took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to his, kissing you gently at first then with more passion. You felt him bite your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands glided across his skin before finding the waistband of his jeans again.
Without breaking the kiss, he helped you to disrobe him, and when you pulled down on his briefs, he sucked in a breath, feeling his cock spring free.
You looked down at it and instinctively parted your lips slightly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation.
“You just going to stare at it all night?” He asked you.
You shook your head, “Can't wait to taste you, to feel you fuck my mouth.” 
You saw his cock twitch at your words and you looked up at him with a smirk. “Is that what you want?”
Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you down toward him. You were bent over, using your elbows for support with your ass in the air. 
“I could get used to this view,” Crosshair said. You didn't have to look up to know he was staring at your ass, but you pulled his gaze back to the back of your head when you kissed the side of his length. His breath hitched at each gentle kiss you gave him, and you heard him try to subdue a moan when you licked a stripe along the vein at the bottom all the way to the head, cleaning up any pre-cum that had already begun to spill out. 
“F-Fuck,” He sputtered.
You peered up at him through your lashes and his grip tightened around your hair, trying his hardest to not buck his hips and force himself into your mouth.
Your tongue swirled around his head before you took it into your mouth.
He whispered your name as he guided you further down onto him, and you took him inch by inch. 
You couldn't fit him all, you felt yourself gag slightly when he got to the back of your throat, which earned another moan from him, and you wrapped one hand around whatever had been left out. 
“Gods, you're taking me so well, wanna feel you gag on me again.” 
You moaned around him as he began using your mouth. He bucked his hips into you as he brought your head further down onto him. Your throat closed around him once again and you felt tears prick in the corner of your eyes. 
You ran your tongue across the bottom of him again, bobbing your head up and down on him, swallowing around him, sucking on him, all while he was bucking his hips into you.
His thrusts started to quicken, becoming slightly more erratic, and you gave a warning tap on his leg, you couldn't take him that quickly. He understood and slowed down.
“S-Sorry, beautiful, didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just getting close..” 
You removed your hand from the base of his length and gently caressed his balls as you continued bobbing on his cock.
“Gonna make me- I'm gonna come down your throat if you- if you keep that up.” He said between pants. 
You hummed around him and kept going. You felt him begin to tighten up and you could hear quiet curses fall from his lips. 
He moaned your name as your cheeks hollowed out around him. He stilled inside your mouth, and you felt hot spurts of him hit the back of your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you before pulling off of him, a trail of saliva keeping you connected to him for a moment longer before you sat up on your knees.
He was breathing heavily and when he looked at you, you could still see his eyes full of lust. 
“Cyar'ika,” He breathed out. “You are so incredible.” 
You leaned forward to kiss him before you felt yourself fall back onto the pillows with him caging you in with his arms.
His kisses were hungry, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and you on your tongue. 
“Want to fuck you. Want to be so good for you.” He said almost into your mouth. “Want to hear you scream my name as I come inside you.” 
His words elicited another moan from you, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue between your lips again.
His cock began pressing into your leg as you felt him getting hard again.
“Crosshair,” you said quietly. He stopped and looked at you, afraid he might have crossed a line. “Lie down.” 
He got up from on top of you and rolled onto his back as you moved to straddle his torso.
You kiss him gingerly on the lips, and then his neck. You felt his hands come up and rest on your hips.
“You gonna be good for me?” 
He nodded quickly. You kissed the tip of his nose before positioning yourself above his cock. He bucked his hips once trying to close the distance.
“Patience.” You told him before sinking down on him.
Heaven. 
That was the only word that could describe how he felt inside of you. His eyes screwed shut, your tight walls felt like they were suffocating his cock as they fluttered around him and he needed to feel more of it. You threw your head back and he tightened his grip on your hips. You sunk yourself down slowly until he had fully disappeared into you. 
Once you had adjusted to how he felt, you moved your hips against him as you leaned over him, seeking out his lips. He kissed you back with fervour as his hands slid around to your back and he bucked his hips to meet your movements.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back up with you. His face was buried in your chest when you straighted your back, and you could feel his lips press against your breasts, and then his teeth. 
You moaned at the feeling, rolling your hips into him faster. His hands glided along your skin back to your hips. He held them tightly as he lifted you off of him slightly before shoving you back down. 
“Fuck, Crosshair!” You cried, feeling him even deeper inside you. 
He groaned as your walls constricted around him again, this time when he lifted you off of him, he had nearly pulled out completely before slamming himself back in. 
You panted out quiet curses as you tightened your arms around him.
“This okay?” He asked you as he did it again.
“Yes, gods, you feel so good. Want you to fuck me harder, feels so good.” 
You didn't need to ask him twice. His hands slid up to your back as he eased you down on the bed before putting his hands on either side of your head.. He used his knee to push your leg up, opening you up more for him. 
His slammed himself all the way in again, each thrust seeming to reach further and further. Your hands fell above your head and he used the opportunity to grab both of your wrists with his hand, pinning them above you as he drove himself into you again at a brutal pace, relishing in the way your tits bounced with each of his thrusts. 
“Gods Crosshair, being such a good boy for me,” you panted.
His lips landed on your neck, kissing you then biting you, leaving another mark on the soft skin.
“You're marking me up so well.” You said as he gave you another love bite just above the last one.
“Gotta make sure everyone knows that you're mine, make sure that trooper knows who you belong to.”
You arched your back with a moan, just as he thrusted into you. With his relentless pace, you knew you wouldn't last much longer, his words were only sending you further over the edge.
“Getting so close, Crosshair,” you said between thrusts. 
He answered by bringing his free hand down to rub circles around your clit.
“Come on my cock, wanna feel you come, wanna hear you scream for me.”
The coil tightened again, he felt your walls squeezing him and his breath hitched.
“I'm gonna come with you, angel,” He told you. “Tell me where you want me.”
“Inside, I want to feel you fill me up.” 
His grip on your wrists tightened as his pace with his other hand quickened, pulling moans from you with each thrust.
“Pl-please, I'm so cl- so close,” you whined, getting more desperate for your release.
He knew that he couldn't keep going for much longer as his thrusts became more erratic, but he was determined to wait for you.
Your moans grew louder and you clamped around his cock more with each thrust. The build up was getting to be too much, until eventually the knot in your stomach came undone, you screamed his name as your orgasm finally crashed over you. 
“That's it, just like that,” He said, his hand moved from your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours as he thrusted as far into you as he could, spilling into you, painting your walls with his his release. 
You both stayed as you were, panting, looking into each other's eyes and then his lips came crashing down onto yours as he pulled himself out of you.
“You're incredible,” you told him, completely blissed out.
“So are you.” He buried his face in your neck, not moving from on top of you.
“Shower?” You asked, and he sighed and nodded into you.
“Please.” 
He got up off you and took your hand, waiting for you to lead him.
“I take it you liked the compliments.” He said, more of a statement than a question.
“Hm?”
“Unless that’s how you always act when a clone compliments you.”
You shook your head, “No, that was reserved only for you.” 
He had a smug smile as you began to walk to the fresher with him in tow.
“Can't wait to see what the others say when you walk into the bar, with my marks all over you.” He said, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you back toward him.
“Well, not all over me, but there's still time, if you're good.”
You escaped from his grip and he all but dragged you into the refresher.
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
Text
Crimes and Punishments Part 2: Speedsters
Masterpost
“Why are we all here again?” The Flash asked Batman.  Batman just made a noise in response. Like a hmmph, that somehow insinuated that Flash should know the answer to that question. 
Robin hangs up the phone with this Danny person, and states that he should be arriving shortly. And he does, coming right through the window, gaping the whole way.
“Guys, I can’t thank you enough for hosting this meeting. And setting it up and everything, but mostly for hosting. Because my realm is slightly poisonous to you guys and because you’ve given me the chance to visit space! We’re in space right now, how awesome is that?! Can someone tell me all about this place later?” Danny rambles, as excited as Red said he would be. 
Red gives Bruce a smug look in response.
“You’re welcome, Danny.”
“Now that we’re all here.” Batman grunts and everyone starts taking seats around the table.
Danny sheepishly takes a seat at the middle seat facing the window. The three speedsters sit across from him, Bruce at one head and Nightwing on the other. Red sits next to Bruce and Danny, Robin sits next to Nightwing and Danny. Danny pulls out a few pieces of paper and a pen.
Once everyone is situated, Batman gestures to Danny. “You called this meeting, about some broken laws?”
Danny nodded solemnly, his aura becoming slightly darker and more oppressing. He faces Bruce, “Yes, I have on my council the ancients of time and speed.” He turns to the speedsters. “You have been accused of breaking Clockwork, the ancient of time’s, rules about interfering in the timestream. He has stated many instances that you have left your own time, changed the past, and changed the future. Unfortunately, in doing so you have also corrupted reality and interfered in more laws of my dimension in bringing back the dead.”
“I’m sorry, but who exactly are you to be the authority on time and speed and, what, the dead too? Who are you at all?” Flash asks.
“We were told you were King of an alternate dimension, how does our dimension affect yours at all?” Kid Flash asks.
“I’m not the authority for time and speed, those are members of my council. Clockwork has been bringing complaints to me about all of you for a long time, but it wasn’t until I started investigating the other matter-” He makes a gesture towards Red, who nods, “that I discovered that the main cause of these problems has been your meddling with reality. You have created cracks in reality, caused by the fracture in the space-time continuum, and these cracks opened your realm to mine, which is poisonous to yours by the way. Clockwork has been cleaning up your messes in the timestream, and now I have cleaned up the leaks, and there is patchwork being done on reality right now.” He checks the last few points on his paper, making marks for each correction being made.
“You have control over all of that?” Impulse blurts out.
“More like I have control over the people who control all of that. Mostly. I’m in charge of space!” Danny smiles wide, fangs out and aura glowing for a second. “Your main interference with Space is the fact that you broke holes into your dimension, but I’m not big on punishments. Speed, the one who gave you your powers, she said you’d met with her before?” Danny pauses and glances between the speedsters.
“We’ve met the Speedforce.” Flash states. “We don’t fully understand the Speedforce or how it works though.”
“Yeah, that would be her! Dani doesn’t take the time to explain anything, always places to be, you know? But, she presently doesn’t have any complaints. Which complicates matters for me. Clockwork is demanding that she take the gifts she gave you, your powers, but she is refusing.”
The speedsters, having tensed, all relaxed at that.
“But Clockwork demands reparations for all the damage you have caused, and all the work he has put in to correct your mistakes.” Danny shrugs in a what-can-you-do manner. “And you have each meddled in the timestream correct?”
They each confirm.
“Right. We’re going to have to come to an agreement on repercussions for your violation of time law and space law. Now, I can’t say for sure who did what, or how many times, and what damage in particular it caused, which means unless you want to fess up right now, you’re all going to receive equal punishments, on the assumption you each caused a third of the damage.”
“I did most of it.” Flash says immediately. “I was the first to get my powers, I didn’t know how to use them, or how badly messing with the timestream ends up until I did it multiple times.”
“But we all did it!” Kid Flash argues.
“I’m technically messing with the timestream right now.” Impulse mutters.
“You did it while learning too! At least you figured it out before creating something like Flashpoint.”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Danny raises his voice over theirs as they start to argue. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” He rubs his head for a moment. “Now, mistakes are understandable, especially while learning new powers. So, in the future, new speedsters will be given leniency so long as you three take responsibility for teaching them the dangers and the rules. We will not punish those learning unfairly.”
The speedsters settle back down in their chairs.
“We can teach new speedsters.” Flash agrees.
“Wonderful! That burden is now part of your punishment.” Danny makes a note on his paper. “One of the main damages done, raising the dead in your alterations of the timeline, will at this point not be undone. From this moment on, everyone stays how they are. We don’t want to go around killing people for your mistakes.”
The speedsters start glancing at the Bats, not having known that was even an option.
“Thank you.” Red states on behalf of the speedsters. Danny nods.
“With that covered,” He looks back at his papers, shuffling through a few. “Clockwork has made an agreement with Dani, as punishment for abusing your powers they will be taken away-”
All the speedsters start to interject, but Danny lets out some eldritch features and lets his aura become more and more powerful and fear-inducing until they all cower back in their seats. Once they are quiet he continues.
“I have been informed that you are all heroes on this planet, so we have all agreed to call this community service. Based on how long you’ve been helping and a few other factors, we made this decision: you will each lose your powers for a total of two months, and then be placed on probation. If you continue to serve your community and use your powers for good, then we will have no further problems. If any of you mess with the timestream on purpose your powers will be revoked permanently. If it is an accident, your powers will be removed again temporarily, but for a time period yet to be determined, but that will be longer than two months. Do you understand?”
They all nod slowly, but the Kid Flash speaks up.
“What if they need us while our powers are gone? We do help, we have people counting on us, what if our teams need us?”
Danny gives him a smile. “The Bats, when I spoke to them about the situation earlier, were concerned about that as well. If you agree to this plan, and we agree to only take one of your powers away at a time, that way the other two can coordinate and help when needed.”
“Will I be sent back to my own timeline?” Impulse’s voice is small and quiet.
“No. Just like with the dead, what is done is done.” Danny makes sure to have eye contact with Impulse. “This agreement does mean you could never go back though, so if you did want to…” Danny trails off.
Impulse shakes his head.
“Okay then.” Danny checks his papers again. “Were there any more questions?”
He gives it a moment.
“Then I will take this agreement back to my people and make sure everything is set. Then we will need to set up a time frame for the removal periods. For now though, everything is done. Thank you so much for your cooperation!”
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theleotarot · 3 months
Text
What’s Next In Love For You? ♡
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Choose the image you are most drawn to or resonate most with… pile 1, pile 2, pile 3, & pile 4 ✨
My Ko-Fi paid pac readings and tipping ♡
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Pile 1
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(Ace of swords, The Sun, Queen of Wands, Death, Seven of Cups, Nine of Swords, Nine of Cups, Fulfillment, Partying, Judgement, & Wedding)
Hi Pile 1, welcome to your reading. ♡
I believe that in the past with love, you have experienced some sort of sadness or disappointment. Whether it be a separation from an ex partner, or you just cannot seem to find the right partner for you, you seem to have been drowning in your own pain in regard to your romantic life. I think some of you may have also thought to yourself “What have I done to deserve this in my life?” Well, I just want to say that you are beginning to find clarity within yourself. I believe that this pain that you’ve been through has pushed you to start doing things for yourself. Whether it be focusing on school, work, hobbies, or friends and family, you are now putting yourself first and not rushing to find love. You may have felt like love or a romantic partner would fulfill you, but I promise that this journey you have started to build yourself back up again will fulfill you much more than anyone or anything else could ever fulfill you.
I think that when love comes next into your life, you will be very happily single and in your own space. I think that it will be at a time in your life when you have accomplished what you wanted, and perhaps even at a time when you are very social. Even if you are more introverted, there will come a time when you begin to socialize with others for your benefit. I think you may even meet your next person in love through any sort of party, maybe a wedding. It does not have to be a big event, but I’m seeing that it is a place where you will socialize a lot with friends and you will be living in the moment at that time. I think when you are with this person, you will do activities that involve a lot of fun too. They will bring extreme joy and laughter in your life. Lots of playful energy here. You may take a lot of photos with this person too. I also think that when this person comes into your life, you will no longer have the mindset of “Nothing good with love ever happens to me” or “I am doomed to be alone.” This person will obviously shift your perspective on love and give you a lot of emotional support I am sensing. I think that your previous wishes and daydreams are coming true with this person. For instance, if you’ve always wanted someone who takes you on beach walks and cruises through the mountains with you while listening to music, you will absolutely get this from them. I’m thinking that you won’t even have to ask this person to do anything, they will do things on their own will and surprise you. I think that as an outcome of what’s happening next in your love life is that you are going to be emotionally fulfilled, but you may still have some anxiety surrounding your situationship or relationship with this person. I believe that this stems from the past though. You may be very breath taken by this person coming into your life, but you are still scared that love will fail you once again. Even though you may have fears about love failing on you still, I certainly believe that the next person in love coming towards you is definitely committed to you, or at least their feelings for you are very genuine. Pile 1, your wishes and dreams are transforming to life now, so keep going, and you will be where you have always wanted to be. ♡
Who is this person coming towards you next in love? – Ko-Fi extended reading
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Pile 2
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(The Unknown Card, Five of Cups, Five of Wands, Queen of Wands, King of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, Three of Swords, Truth, Abundance, World, & Engagement)
Hi, Pile 2! Welcome to your reading. ♡
I think that right now, you may feel lost in your love life or unsure of how things ended like in your pervious love experience(s). I am getting a sense of feeling that you may have recently gone through a separation with an ex partner or love interest, or you may have just felt the need to back away from a certain person. I am also getting that some of you may still wonder about the truth of your past situation. Maybe you never got the truth or clarity you needed. For some of you, I’m getting that your ex partner may have been a narcissist or treated you poorly or took you for granted. This feeling of lost or separation has resulted you in feeling worried, I would say about your love life. I am also getting that you may struggle with moving forward in terms of your life as a whole. I’m getting that you do want to proceed with your life, but you just feel so stuck and you may feel uncertain of how you can move on with your life. Pile 2, I think with time though, you will for sure be able to expand your life, including your thoughts and actions with love. I think eventually you’ll be able to walk away from the uncertainty or loss you’ve had and begin to have many love opportunities given to you.
When love comes in for you next, I believe that you will still be in your feelings of sadness and loss of something you once loved or cared for. You will be at a time where you feel very unstable with your life and emotions. I think you’ll also be battling with yourself mentally. I think you really want to get rid of these feelings of emptiness, but your mind is still struggling to have positive thoughts to let you be happy. I do think that when this next person in love comes into your life, they will bring you lots of stability, respect, and admiration that you did not have before. It is amazing here that you once were in a place with the 5 of cups, feelings of sadness and emptiness, but with this next love, it will offer you the King of Cups, which is lots of stability and emotional fulfillment. I think this next love in your life will also teach you to be more confident in yourself and you will gain clarity in terms of your romantic life. I think with this next person, they will offer you a very emotional connection too. A connection, I would say like soulmates. There will be a lot of passion and sparks between the two of you, I’m hearing laughter in your conversations. The type of love where you playfully run in their arms to spin you around, or vice versa. I think that the point of your union with this person is for you to experience a love that you have never received before, while also helping you to love yourself and build you stronger than ever before. Your next love really uplifts you to find yourself I would say. I believe that in the early stages of your connection with this person, your connection will develop very slowly, and because of this, you will feel like they might be playing you, not serious with you, or just don’t feel for you like you do for them. It will make you feel worried or upset, but Pile 2, I just want to say that they certainly do feel for you. They do take you seriously, and after these early stages, you and your next person in love will have a very young, free flowing, and innocent type of love. I think this love will also heal your inner child. Your union together is to make you both stronger as individuals and learn about the opportunities in life. ♡
Who is this person coming towards you next in love? – Ko-Fi extended reading
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Pile 3
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(King of Wands, Five of Swords, The Moon, Temperance, The Chariot, The Hermit, Strength, Wisdom, Passion, & It Is Safe For You To Love)
Hi, Pile 3, welcome to your reading! ♡
I think you have recently overcome lots of obstacles or you’ve gone through some sudden unexpected change. Maybe this is a separation from an ex partner or person of interest. You may have had many sleepless nights worried about whatever situation that put you through anxiety or stress, but I believe that right now, you are in your power regarding love, education, career, money, and success. I think that the situations that you have gone through have left you no choice but to change yourself and proceed in your life in order for you to be happy. Perhaps right now you are picking up a new hobby, or trying to advance in a hobby. Maybe you are creating a small business or picking up a new side hustle. Maybe you are excelling in your classes much more than before. Your passion to succeed in life is dramatically increasing right now, and I just want to say Pile 3, although you don’t see it, with the adversity you go through, there are success, love, and wish fulfillment growing to life for you. Keep going my pile 3! You are in your power!
I think when love comes next into your life, I think you’re going to be a bit skeptical and in your head about it. I think when love is offered to you, you’ll think to yourself “Really? Why me?” It’s kind of like, you don’t really expect love to come your way because you’re not used to it, or love hasn’t did you well in the past. With this pile, Pile 3, I am hearing “Trust issues.” You may have this, just take what resonates. I think when love comes into your life, you’ll be afraid to open up to this person due to not wanting to get hurt. Maybe it takes awhile for you to trust someone and get comfortable with them for you to open up. You are most likely guarded. I think when love is offered to you next, you have probably been so much in your independence that you may hesitate to accept love. Eventually, you’ll let this fear subside though and you’ll begin to open up because you’ll feel intense passion with this next person in love. I think in the early stages of your situationship or relationship with them, you’ll realize that there is equal interest between the both of you, and that will help you open up much more. If you ever had to experience unrequited love, this next love coming towards you will be the complete opposite. This next person feels the chemistry and desire with you, and vice versa. They also have extreme loyalty and devotion to you. You’ll have a lot to talk about with this person. There are lots of texting, calling, and communication here in the courting stage. This next love will also offer you lots of traveling and lots of freedom as well. Lots of trips together, definitely. You may open up to this person slowly, but surely, you will feel comfortable with them in the end. Ultimately, this next love offer will help you gain inner strength, and let you know that it is okay to let love in and trust people with your heart. I think you’ll learn to love and enjoy having someone as company more than before, even if you are always used to being in solitude. I think you and this next person will have a lot in common in terms of your hobbies or activities you enjoy doing together. You’ll feel really safe with what’s coming towards you in love, Pile 3. Just remember that you are capable and worthy of a true, loyal, and healthy love. ♡
Who is this person coming towards you next in love? – Ko-Fi extended reading
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Pile 4
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(King of Cups, Three of Wands, The Lovers, King of Wands, Death, Six of Pentacles, Four of Swords, Love, Blowing Kiss, Chariot, & Retreat)
Hi, Pile 4, welcome to your reading. ♡
I think right now in your life, you may have a person of interest, or someone in mind that you are attracted to and still debating if they are the one for you. I keep getting this energy in your reading that you definitely have someone, or you have your eyes on someone. If this isn’t the case, then I think there are other people who have their eyes on you and are interested in you, and they’ll be coming in pretty soon. I do think you are generally a more emotional human being though. Perhaps, you are a hopeless romantic. I also think that you do want to take your situation with this person to the next level. I’m thinking maybe you’d like to get to know them more, see them more, or go on more dates with them. For others who don’t have a person, I’m getting the feeling that you are very ready to let love come into your life right now. Maybe you are even seeking for romance right now. Pile 4, but I just want to say that your love life is really transforming right now, even if you don’t see it. I really feel like romance for you is close by.
When love comes next into your life, I think you’ll be super ready for it. Of course, if you already have someone in mind, you’ll be happy that you’re finally taking things to the next level with them. Again, I’m really feeling that what’s coming next in love for you is on the horizon. I think you’ll be planning a lot with this person. Maybe you will plan out the different types of dates you will go on, or maybe you will strategize ways to see them in real life just to talk to them. They will do the same. I’m getting that you’re actually super into them. There’s going to be a lot of talking between the two of you, and I’m getting that your affection for them is returned back to you. If you have already been texting, calling, or communicating with them, just know that your conversations are getting deeper and moving to the next level. It’s such a sweet love to start with. It’s like the beginning or courting stage will be filled with butterflies and nervousness because you both like each other a lot. I think that this next love coming towards you has to offer you a lot of expansion and growth in your love life. I think you’ll both take initiative and up lift each other in your relationship. There is so much giving and receiving here in your relationship with them. Maybe they might pay for a date, and later on, you’ll give them a gift, or maybe they’ll make you a special breakfast in the morning and then in the evening, you’ll surprise them with a homecooked dinner date. It’s things like this that I’m getting for you two. Love is returned here in this relationship. I also think, of course, you’ll no longer feel that intense feeling in your chest of “Oh do they like me like I like them? Will we ever be together?” like you once did before. By then, you would absolutely know that they feel a lot for you. Another thing I am getting with your reading is that this is the type of love where it feels like you are always in the honeymoon stage with them. You both are just so lovey dovey with each other, and the love won’t stop! With what’s coming next in love, there will be lots of giving and receiving as said before. You’ll receive this love that is reciprocated in all ways, and I think your mind and heart will be at ease when you are with this person. You’ll finally be able to get good night rests with what’s coming in for you. I think you’ll definitely think that this person was worth waiting for Pile 4. ♡
Who is this person coming towards you next in love? – Ko-Fi extended reading
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abyssruler · 1 year
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flowers and unplanned proposals
xiao x gn!reader
if someone gifts an adeptus with flowers, it means you are proposing to them, and if they take it, it means they accept the proposal. unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you ask), you weren’t aware of such a custom. or — xiao thinks you’re married, but you just thought flowers would look nice on him.
fluff. comedy-ish. accidental malewife acquisition. featuring reader being clueless, xiao being hopeless, and lumine and hu tao being your biggest supporters
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It started with a walk on the road as an acquaintance accompanied you.
There’d been a wild flower by the side, with white and lilac petals that you’d thought, rather presumptuously, would suit the dour faced adeptus beside you. So, you plucked it and impulsively handed it to him, a smile on your face and a shocked one on his.
His fingers closed around the flower’s stem, the stern lines of his face softening as he gazed at the tiny petals that glittered in the sun.
You’ve never been rid of him since.
Your friend Xiao could be described as protective at best and possessive at worst. It’s not a bad thing, of course! Caring for a friend is always a good thing in your books, but sometimes, you think he takes the word ‘caring’ to an almost extreme degree.
Take, for instance, now.
“Xiao?”
He hums from his spot on the sill of your window, not even sitting, no, he’s crouched on it, balanced on the thin ledge at the tips of his toes and keeping his eyes (which oddly glowed like a cat’s) peeled for any danger. Like this, he almost looks like a bird perched on a branch.
You let out an awkward laugh. “You know, I appreciate you doing this for me, keeping me safe and all, but I think I can spend the night on my own safely.”
His head whips to you so fast you almost feared he’d get neck cramps, an expression of surprise and… hurt? on his face.
“You… don’t want me here?”
You’ve never backtracked so fast in your life. “No! I mean, yes—but not in the way you’re thinking!”
He looks forlorn now, stepping down the windowsill and shoulders hunched in a similar manner to that of a cat pulling its ears down its head. “Is this what the Traveler meant by sleeping on the couch?”
You’re not sure what to do, but it seems like he wants to sleep on the couch? Puzzled, you smile encouragingly even though you don’t quite understand his words. “Er, if you want to sleep on the couch, you’re welcome to do so?”
His face falls.
“And, I don’t know, he just became all—sad? Just, I felt so bad for basically kicking him out of my room, and now that I’m thinking more on it, I should’ve just offered to let him sleep beside me. Like a, um, a sleepover!”
There’s a distinctly bashful look on your face and, oh god, you’re drawing little circles on the table with your finger, an almost dreamy glint in your eyes.
Sweet Jesus that doesn’t exist in this world, Lumine is going to barf.
She slams her hands on the table, startling you in the process as she leans down and says with an exasperated face, “Have you considered that maybe you actually like him and he—”
“What?!” you squawk, mouth open in disbelief and a mortified look contorting your features. “That’s—don’t say such things, Lumi!”
She drops back down her chair, leveling you with a look that basically said, are you for real right now?
“It’s written all over your face—”
You quickly slap both hands on your cheeks, turning your head away. “I don’t like him! How could I ever… he’s an adeptus and I…”
“And you made an adeptus sleep on your couch,” Lumine deadpans.
She can feel the way your face burned at the reminder. You slump over the table, burying your head in your arms and bemoaning your decision. “I didn’t mean to disrespect him…”
“Oh, I’m sure disrespect was the farthest thing you did to him,” she mutters beneath her breath. Broke his heart, shattered his hopes and dreams, devastated him—Lumine can name a few more.
But then, you suddenly straighten up, determination lining your face. There’s a look in your eyes that tells Lumine she should probably stop you from doing whatever idiotic thing—however in good faith it might be—that you’re about to do.
“I should give him some flowers as an apology. He always gets so… not exactly happy but—warm, that’s it. He feels warmer whenever I give him flowers.” You smile, reminiscing on whatever moments you had with him. You stand up, looking down at the empty plates all over the table before looking at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, could you foot the bill this time?”
Lumine sighs. She’s still got money from the last commission Ningguang made her do, so she supposes she can do it. Just this once. “Fine, but you’re paying for our next outing!”
You beam, thanking her before running to the nearest flower shop or wherever it is you’re going to be getting those flowers from.
“Make sure to let him sleep on your bed next time!” Lumine yells to your retreating back, ignoring the strange, almost scandalized, looks from nearby patrons.
You find him at your house, completely ignoring how strange it is that a friend has complete access to your house including a spare key and extra clothes on the closet just for him. It’s simply become the norm, is all. And he’s a good—you don’t quite know what to call him, roommate? you’ll settle for friend—friend, helping you with the chores and often accompanying you to the market when you need new groceries—but only during the early mornings, of course. You know how much he dislikes crowds.
“I’m home!”
The response comes immediate and, judging by the direction, it came from the kitchen, “Welcome home.”
The large bouquet of glaze lilies interspersed with roses and qingxin flowers is heavy on your arms as you walked to the kitchen. Xiao is there, a broom in hand which he sets aside once he sees you and what you’re carrying.
“Here!” You grin, extending the bouquet forward and into his arms.
He accepts it, a flush to his cheeks and looking distinctly flustered by the gift. “I… thank you.”
“It’s an apology.”
His eyes snap to yours, iridescent gold piercing through you. There’s something almost vulnerable in the way he’s gazing at you, hands tightening around the flowers.
You fiddle with your fingers. “Well, I wanted to say sorry for making you sleep on the couch. If you’d like, you can sleep beside me tonight.”
Something in him relaxes, tension bleeding out of his posture as he smiles, small and near unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know him so well.
For some reason, the sight of it makes your heart leap.
Lumine’s words repeat in your mind.
Have you considered that maybe you actually like him?
No, you think with dread, absolutely not.
“Yes,” Hu Tao crows in delight, “You’re absolutely in love!”
“See, that’s what I tried to say yesterday, but nooo. Oh, Lumi, Xiao is just a friend,” Lumine grouches, imitating your voice and utterly failing because while she may be strong enough to fight monsters and gods, that girl has absolutely no talent when it comes to mimicking.
Your palms cover your face that feels warm to touch. “I do not sound like that. And it’s true, we really are just friends!”
“Of course, because friends do things like living together and sleeping on the same bed and holding hands—” You open your mouth to protest, but Hu Tao doesn’t let you interrupt, “—don’t deny it! I saw you last week near Liuli Pavilion, and he was holding your hand and carrying a bag of food!”
“He’s just really helpful! He’s an adeptus,” you argue, though it sounds weak even to your own ears.
“And do all adepti live with a human, do they sleep with them—”
“You make it sound so lewd, Lumi!”
“—do they hold their hands and go grocery shopping at five in the morning with them?” Lumine pierces you with those honey gold eyes of hers. “Did you know I barely have anything to do in the Adventurer’s Guild here in Liyue besides babysitting and errands because someone—namely, an adeptus who coincidentally goes by the name Xiao—keeps killing all the monsters within the area?”
Hu Tao cackles. “He always asks about you whenever I encounter him at Wuwang Hill.”
You level her with an incredulous look. “What were you even doing there?”
“Hiding bodies, duh!” At your horrified look, she winks. “Just kidding!”
You shake off Hu Tao’s laughter and pinch your lips together. “Look, it’s—we’re just friends. That’s all there is to it.”
Lumine huffs, “Yeah, sure, because friends like you two give each other flowers everyday. How does your house still have space in it for more?”
You would’ve refuted her words, would’ve argued that no, you don’t give each other flowers everyday, just on a regular basis—but Hu Tao’s sudden silence concerned you more than what Lumine said. The funeral director turns her head to you with wide eyes.
“You gave him flowers?” she asks, an odd tone to her voice.
Your brows furrow at her uncharacteristic seriousness. “Um, yes? I do it all the time.”
She leapt forward, grabbing your shoulders and lips twitching into something you could almost call glee. “And he accepted it?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
Hu Tao lets go of your shoulders to tilt her head back and laugh. Not the nice little giggles she does after a successful prank, no, this is more manic. The kind that wouldn’t make you think, oh how sweet, but instead makes you think, oh this girl belongs in a facility.
Even Lumine seems confused by her reaction, joining you in watching her like she’s just grown two heads. Hu Tao takes one look at both of your expressions and dissolves into another fit of laughter.
“Oh, dear. And you don’t even know what it means!” she says in between laughs.
Lumine, having had enough of being in the dark, grabs Hu Tao’s face with both hands and forces her to look at her in the eye. “What does it mean?”
Hu Tao grins, gaze darting to you. “When you give an adeptus flowers, it means you’re proposing to them.”
You and Lumine gape, understanding dawning on your heads, though there’s horror on your part at what it could mean.
But Hu Tao doesn’t stop there, “And if they take it…”
You await her next words with bated breath, Lumine seemingly on the edge of her seat as well.
“…It means they accept your proposal.”
Lumine’s screech of delight at this newfound information drowns out the metaphorical sound of your world falling apart and being built anew.
You come home in a daze, eyes blankly staring ahead and unaware of your surroundings until you blink, and suddenly, you’re sitting at the dining table, a plate of steaming shrimp balls being placed in front of you.
Xiao crouches by your chair, examining your face with worried eyes. “Are you well?”
Your throat shrivels up. All the words and arguments you’d been planning to say earlier dying on your tongue. So, instead, you nod. He doesn’t outwardly look relieved, but the softness in his touch belies his care as he places a single stemmed qingxin flower on your palm.
It’s still fresh, you notice, dew gathering on the petals and the scent still present.
Xiao sits on the chair opposite yours, looking at anything and anywhere but your eyes. “I plucked it from the highest mountains of Jueyun Karst, blessed by Cloud Retainer and said to ward away unwanted dreams.”
You stare down at it, at the white petals that feel soft against the pads of your fingers, heart beating out of your chest and hands clammy and breaths labored, a pleasant twist to your gut as you realized that he’d gone out of his way to climb a mountain and have it blessed by an adeptus just to give it to you. There’s being friends, handing each other flowers they saw on the road or bought at a shop, and then, there’s this.
Your mouth feels dry, your chest feels full, and there’s something on the tip of your tongue begging to be let out.
“Xiao,” you start, finally gaining the courage to look up and meet his eyes. “What are we?”
His lips part, eyes widening the slightest amount that tells you he’s unsure what brought this question on and how to answer it.
You shake your head. “Never mind. Just tell me this—are we… engaged?”
At this, Xiao seems to relax. “No.”
You barely have the chance to feel a mix of relief and disappointment, though why you’d feel disappointment at having proof that you and Xiao really are just friends—
He smiles, a small one but no less brighter for it. “We are married, aren’t we?”
And oh.
Oh.
It’s not until now, with the confirmation of everything you dreaded (everything you’d hoped and wanted and yearned for desperately) that you realize how much you’ve longed for something more with him—how much you’ve longed for him.
“Xiao,” you say, eyes crinkling at the corners and cheeks aching with the intensity of your smile, “I love you.”
He startles, blinking up at you with wide eyes, red creeping up his cheeks, but before he can say anything you know he’s not quite prepared to say yet, you continue, still a little indignant at discovering you’d been married without a clue.
“But I demand a proper wedding ceremony!”
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word count: 2.2k
edit: the semi part 2 y’all have been asking for
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wilwheaton · 1 year
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there is no middle. there is no both sides.
Remember how much fun it was to harmlessly TP your friends' houses? How silly and goofy it was to ding-dong ditch someone? Just to do silly, childish, ultimately harmless expressions of being a kid who's fooling around?
Thanks to the Republican fascists who have gerrymandered and suppressed their way into minority rule In 21st century America, any of those things will now likely get you killed by a paranoid gun nut who won't suffer any consequences. And when it's a white man who murders a BIPOC child, his state's Republican governor will pardon any consequences that somehow slip past the barriers to justice they've built.
Pick a side.
You're with the fascists and terrorists, or you are with the rest of us. There is no middle. There is no "both sides". One side wants as much death and terror on the streets as possible. The other side wants all of us to have healthcare and a home.
Pick a side. There is no middle.
You are with us, or you are with the domestic terrorists.
And to be clear: if you are with the domestic terrorists, you're not welcome on my page or in my life. It's not dIfFeREnT OpInIoNs. It's literally life and death.
Maybe, thirty years ago, there was some redemptive quality in the GOP. (Like, at the very LEAST there were Republicans who wouldn't support a coup, for instance). Maybe it's real hard to consider voting against the party you've always supported. I get that.  Thing is, that party doesn't exist now. That party has been replaced with violent, christian nationalist, white supremacist, fascists. And they are ALL in thrall to Tr*mp and Marjoriefuckyfuckfuck.
You can try to tell yourself that you don't vote for their policies, that your candidate isn’t extreme. But when you vote for ANY Republican, you're voting for those policies, because Republicans do as they are told by their fascist supreme leader, Donald Tru&p. They fall in line with the extremists. So if you aren’t an extremist, what do you do?
You pick a side. You're with America, or you're with the MAGA movement.
There is no middle.
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russellsppttemplates · 2 months
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have u done the reader meeting charles' family for the first time🥹🫶🏻
Note: I think I've done it for the neurodivergent!reader pieces I have, but I can't remember any other instances! If I did, consider this a take two!
Note: a lovely anon showed me how I didn't read it properly and corrected me (thank you!) So here is the actual piece!
"I think I'm more nervous about your mother if I'm honest", Charles said as you tried to soothe his worries.
"What do you mean? She's head over heels and she hasn't even met you yet", you squeezed his hand.
"She raised you and she's the main female figure on your life, and you're such an amazing, strong, beautiful, independent woman and I'm just thinking of all the ways she can hate me", he admitted.
"Just like I get all of that from her, I also get her incredibly good eye and her loving qualities - you have never complained about those", you kissed his cheek.
"Welcome, Charles! Come on in, lunch is almost ready", your father welcomed him inside, "our youngest daughter isn't here today, she's very sorry about it but she had these concert tickets for a really long time".
"Thank you - no worries, we've already planned a dinner at Y/N's place next week", Charles said, "I brought some wine from friend's company, hopefully you'll enjoy it, and some flowers for your wife".
"Here's the young man who stole this one's heart!", your mother cooed, kissing his cheeks and hugging him, "these are beautiful, Charles, you didn't have to, but thank you", she smiled, "I must say, I've been looking forward to hearing all your stories about racing - it scares me how fast you go but Y/N says you're the best driver and you always do it safely, and she's always so proud whenever she talks about your achievements", she mused as your cheeks erupted in blush.
"Yes, you get used to the speed after a while, and having people to support you there really helps", Charles smiled and miserably winked at you when he felt something on his legs.
"Oh, that's Felix, the family cat", your father chirped in, "He's a bit judgemental sometimes, but he came to you on his own so that's always a good sign - Y/N's last boyfriend got a pretty nasty scratch on his hand and wrist".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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bitterchocoo · 5 months
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Shanti
Blade | M. Reader
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"I’ve got the perfect job for you, so come and follow me."
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Blade remembers the day he officially joined the Stellaron Hunters all too clear.
It was a day he could never forget.
"Oh? a new merchandise?"
The man said with his head slightly tilted. He looks at Blade with full interest in his eyes like someone eyeing an item at an auction, a "merchandise" he said.
The man welcomed him with open arms.
There never was an instance where he would lash out in frustration or annoyance. He always has a confident smile on his face, he never voices any of his negative emotions as if he's someone who's working in an industry. A customer service smile always plastered on his face. Day in day out.
After a few days, Blade would rather call him a merchant rather than a Stellaron Hunter. His behavior speaks for itself. He even speaks with merchants as if he's one of them and is sharing stories and advice he learned in his journey.
That got him wondering.
How could this "merchant" be a Stellaron Hunter? It confuses him to no end, someone so warm like that doing something like this? It's quite questionable. That is... Until he was partnered with the man on a mission.
That man... That once merchant-like man who always has a confident smile.. Shows his true colors...
He sees everyone and everything as nothing but items. He showed it repeatedly like how he said. "If it's alive, it’s a customer. If it's dead, it's merchandise."
He didn't even bother to call them with a more fitting word. He just straight up calls them "it." They're all nothing but customers and merchandise to him.
"No flaws, no waste, it’s a business of buying and selling." He said with a wide grin on his face. 'It's merely business. So no hard feelings right?' That's probably what crosses his mind every time he is given a mission by Elio. People are nothing but items in an auction to him as he raised the bid, it just goes to show how valuable you are to him as an item. The higher the bid.. the more valuable you are to him..
"Night in Aurum Alley never sleeps. It's all my turf!"
"So you’re selling blood, makes sense."
"Shut up and sit down. Punch them. Tie them up. Dismember them."
Such words are said with the sweetest and softest voice you'll ever hear, it's like honey, and you can't help but do what he says.
It works like a charm.
How could a man like this posses such a honey-like voice? Such a cursed man...
.
.
"Oh Bladie~"
"What."
[Name] only smiles at Blade's response, aside from Kafka, he is the only one that can call him "Bladie" and the man clearly took pride in it. "Oh nothing~" The man looks at Blade and eyed him up and down as he opens his mouth to say something Blade already cut him off. "No." "But I haven't say anything!"
Blade glances at the other as if he's silently judging him. "You've asked the question many times already."
"Which is?"
"Come work for me."
[Name] groans at Blade's response, that was so not him! He didn't just say it like that, who did he think he is? A barbarian? Where's all the other sweet honeyed words? "I did not say that."
"It's the point of it." "How harsh~"
Blade remain silent as [Name] continues to pester him. This is an everyday thing to him. If not for the fact that [Name] is a valuable member he might have killed him long ago.
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"Hello Mr. [Name], I see you got a new "merchandise"... is it---" "My apologies, but he's not for sale."
"He's a merchandise meant for me and me alone~ and I don't like customers who takes what's not theirs~ do anything funny and you'll be my next merchandise."
"Don't worry~ I heard a coat rack out of bones sells well in an auction~"
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Text
rules & main masterlist
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[#welcome]
⏳ loren, 24, she/her
i post both sfw and nsfw fics - mdni with nsfw content please. i do not take requests, but soft thoughts are always open. hard thoughts will only be answered if they are NOT on anon blank blogs without a profile picture, banner or some form of blog description (and in some instances no posts or reblogs) will be blocked taglist [now open]
⏳ sideblogs @lorensonebraincell @jeffreysleftdimple
⏳ sidekick @sorryimananti-romantic
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[#loren writes - scenarios]
📜 ateez as mafia members who fall for you (ot8 x reader)
hyung & maknae line . part two bonus (mingi x reader, wooyoung x reader) mafia boyfriends (christmas special)
📜 ateez as royals who fall for you (ot8 x reader)
hyung line . maknae line
📜 ateez as pirates who fall for you (ot8 x reader)
hyung line . maknae line
[#loren writes - smaus]
📜 rating bff!ateez as - twitter thread series (platonic!ot8 x reader)
alarm clocks . beds . fridges . presentations . amusement park rides . computer apps . kinks (kinktober special) . pumpkin carvings (halloween special) . sea animals (seonghwa bonus)
📜 boyfriend!ateez - fake texts (ot8 x reader)
when you call them 'bro' when you call them by their government name when they discover you write smut when you ask them to draw you a flower when you tell them you're constipated when you rizz them up [latest release]
[#loren writes - headcanons]
📜 dogboy!yuyu (yunho x reader)
📜 loren collabs with yumi ♡
ateez as dads (ot8 x reader) ateez as brothers (ot8 x reader) ateez as boyfriends (explicit ver.) (ot8 x reader)
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[#loren answers]
📦 ask prompts that are a shame to lose to the tumblr void
mafia!ateez . ceo's son!mingi . prince!jongho . baguette!yunho . spiderman!yunho . michelin chef!yeosang . fallen angels!ateez . soft mafia!ateez . friends2lovers!san . gru!seonghwa . hamster!hongjoong . texting bf!atz a pussy lineup . kissing!wooyoung
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[#loren's fic recs]
🗂️ an ongoing record of fics that tickle my one braincell (rec reblogs here)
001 . ot8 x reader | multi x reader 002 . member x reader | hyung line 003 . member x reader | maknae line 004 . scenarios | reactions | headcanons 005 . social media au | fake texts 006 . ao3 | member x reader | member x member
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©eightmakesonebraincell. please do not repost or translate any of my works
last updated 14 may 2024
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ilys00ga · 6 months
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life after his enlistment.
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pairing: yoongi x reader
synopsis: how life/the relationship was like after he enlisted.
genre: fluff, established relationship, yoongi enlisted, they are trying their best, idk if I should call it angst or hurt/comfort, but there's some kind of ✨️melancholy✨️ in this (predictable much), I effing miss him sm more now :(.
warnings: t.w: if u are just like me, prepare to be missing yoongi sickeningly after this. gosh, it feels like a hole in a chest rn. idk what to do w myself. oh btw some ideas mentioned here are purely my own opinions, so it doesn't have to be "facts" or "all true." if u have different opinions or if u disagree with any it u can reach out to me about them, I would like that, but that's that, enjoy!!!!!!!!!
A/N: this was a request made by @kimvante2013 I hope it meets ur expectations! this was so fun to write, I liked this a lot. feel free to send more reqs or anything u want :)
PS. English is not my first language, so you know the drill.
ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
the problem wasn't that you couldn't see him, no.
since his duty was different from that of an ordinary individual, you both were able to spend the nights in each other's arms.
when he comes back home after duty, sometimes he's met with an empty house where he'd wash up and start preparing something for you to enjoy munching on once you get back home at a later hour of the day. other times, he comes to a busy, warm house. you blasting your favorite drama on the TV while doing the laundry in the middle of the living room, or just chilling and waiting to welcome him with mellow hugs and kisses.
and when he's on duty, he can't always contact you, but he whispered kisses laced with promises into your lips before leaving on his first day, and he would never dare to break them. not that he wants to anyway.
sometimes you'd wake up to post-it notes sticked on random surfaces and items around the house, or good morning messages of love and kisses. sometimes he calls during lunch breaks to check up on you, reminding you to drink water and eat well because that's yoongi's most precious habit of showing that he always just cares.
"don't forget to layer your outfit today, I just saw that it's gonna be awfully cold."
"did you like the bouquet I sent? want more? cook me ___ tonight xx"
"hi, don't forget to drink a cup of water right this instance or you'll shrivel up and die."
"it snowed on my way here this morning, let's go out this weekend and have some fun :]"
when days are too hard to handle, weighing one of you—maybe even both of you at the same time, cause life is a bitch like that—down and burying you under the ground, you'd send long voice messages to the other. never expecting an immediate reply. just simply pressing record and spilling all the bottled negative energy that clogged your brains and chests.
so, the problem wasn't really that you couldn't see or talk to him..
the problem was that neither of you were used to any of that.
you weren't used to being away from each other for long hours throughout the day (even though he often went on tours and job events aboard), or not being able to talk and/or see him whenever you wanted to—atleast whenever your shift agreed to let you. you're stuck on this routine for months. you were so not used to that.
over the years, you and yoongi grew to become a pen and a paper: two different items that are meant to only function and be paired together. one can't be capable without the other.
yet you try to avail yourselves of the situation and take it all easy. slowly, like waking up and leaving a warm, comfy bed at 5 in the morning to gain some purpose somewhere out there.
so, while staying away from one another for several hours a day comes with heavy challenges and even melancholy at times, that doesn't mean it can't be fruitful for your relationship.
since for it to grow healthier, a couple, intentionally or not, sometimes needs to take some "time off" to preserve the connection and intimacy between them.
you always remind yoongi of how much you had missed him during the day, which is something that never failed to put a smile on his face and trigger a stream of butterflies in his stomach.
love and yearning are two inseparable powerful emotions that one can't defeat, and absence makes the heart grow fonder. that's the beauty of the challenge your relationship was subject to at this new stage.
"I am still me, you are still you. everything's gonna be alright." yoongi would say as he hugs your face into his chest.
he always reminds you that this new chapter the two of you have entered together, hand in hand and with shaking hearts, is one that he'd been dreading but looking forward to for a very long time.
a chapter that made him understand how much he needs your existence in his life. to be himself and to be the somebody you need and deserve.
and he makes sure to translate that into your skin as he traces it with his lips and fingertips when you finally fall into each other's embrace.
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chiefduckgarden · 1 year
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This whole thing is feeling like Jim and Pam
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: you're in love with your best friend. She has a boyfriend.
A/N: If the title was enough for you to know what's this about, let me give you a hug :)
Words: 3231
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Wanda was amazing.
You knew that very well.
She was kind, funny, talented, smart, friendly and beautiful.... Really, really, really beautiful.
She was your best friend. Since kindergarten you two were inseparable.
But only on the early months of high school you started to develop deeper feelings for her.
You'd spend hours thinking about her eyes. Ohh those green eyes you could get lost in. Found yourself daydreaming about her smile, her laugh, and the way her nose scrunch from time to time.
She was just perfect in every way.
But you didn't dare to tell her, too afraid that your feelings might not be reciprocated. You couldn't lose her. That was the last thing you wanted.
And to be honest, you felt like it wasn't necessary, she was your best friend, always caring and supportive, all the time by your side. Wanda was a lovely person, very affectionate with all the people around her. But specially with you, she was always very touchy, telling you beautiful things and making sure you were feeling okay.
And that worked for you. At least for two semesters.
Vision got transferred to your school on the third semester, and despite being a shy, quiet guy, he got all the attention by being the new kid. And also by being Tony Stark's cousin.
That semester you didn't shared many classes with Wanda (barely three). But Vision did. And of course, Wanda being the warm person she was, didn't hesitate on welcoming him to school.
That's how your nightmare begun.
After the first two weeks of interaction between them, everything Wanda talked about was Vision.
"Did you know Vision was home schooled his whole life?"
"He's also in the debate club now, we're both working together"
"He knows how to play the piano, he said he would teach me someday"
"Vision told me he spoke french, can you believe it?"
Vision this. Vision that. Uggh, you grew tired of listening to his name.
But being her best friend, it was normal for her to share that part of her life with you. And you were very good at hiding your distaste, because she never noticed it.
Four months later she stopped talking so often about him. Suddenly the talks about him ceased. You felt relieved to say the least. Even if you would ask about him, she'd change the subject almost immediately, barely answering to your questions.
You thought that whatever that was going on between them was over. So you didn't pushed any further, and stopped bringing him up.
But one week before the christmas break she dropped the bomb.
- I know I wasn't talking about Vision that much, or at least the way I always do. But now I have something important to tell you... The reasons behind this behavior it's that... We've been dating all this time.
Your smile faded that same instance.
- I know, I know, I should've told you since the beginning but he wanted to keep it private.
You nodded, still dumbfounded.
- Okay... - you said almost in a whisper - So, what changed, why are you telling me this now?
Your hands were shaking, and you could feel your heart skipping like crazy.
She smiled widely.
- Yesterday he asked me to be his girlfriend.
Oh no. No, no, no.
- And I said yes. He's my boyfriend now.
Did you hear that? It was the sound of your heart breaking.
The girl of your dreams, the love of your life was dating someone else.
You were in love with your best friend, but she had a boyfriend now.
- So what do you say Y/N? - she asked you.
You blinked a couple of times before returning your attention back to her.
- Amm...
What were you supposed to say?
"Please break up with him because I fell in love with you"
" That's not fair, I was in love with you first"
"I feel like vomiting"
No, you couldn't say that. You would never jeopardize her happiness.
So you put on your pants and faked a smiley face.
- I'm sorry, that was a lot of information to process, but I'm really happy for you Wands, I hope he makes you really happy.
She smiled and hugged you.
- Thank you Y/N, i was really nervous to tell you, but now I know everything is fine.
You hugged her back.
- Everything is fine - you replied.
Vision suddenly appeared after that and you congratulated him. Not missing the opportunity to warn him.
- You know Vision, I hope you make her really happy, treat her the way she deserves. And If I get to know that, somehow, she isn't happy, or that you made something stupid that hurt her, or if you directly break her heart... I will haunt you down, so you better take care of my bestie....
Both, Wanda and Vision laughed a little. They thought you were half joking, but deep down, you knew you meant it. You would never let someone hurt Wanda.
- I promise Y/N, i will treat Wanda as the princess she is - he said.
- Aww Vis...
She kissed his cheek and you knew you weren't ready to watch them.
- Eww, gross - you said - I better leave now, I don't wanna third wheel in here.
Again, they laughed. And again, you weren’t joking.
-Okay, see you later Y/N - Wanda said, hugging you one last time.
You bid your goodbyes and went straight home. That afternoon you cried your heart out for hours, basically until you fell asleep.
The first weeks were weird for you, Wanda never had any other boyfriends before, so this situation was new for the two of you. The dynamic changed, and even when she still made time for you, she was still in bliss with Vision, and would spend all the possible time with him.
As time passed, you noticed Vision kept up with his promise on treating her right. But if you were honest, you knew you would be a better partner for her.
Vision wasn't bad (not a total asshole, luckily), but from your perspective he was taking Wanda for granted. The way he treated her was normal, good, average.
And Wanda deserved much more than just average.
She deserved the whole world. You would put the universe at her feet if you could.
But Vision, that guy was doing the bare minimum. Wanda used to tell you everything about her relationship. Sometimes that was bad. Sometimes that was good.
You knew, first handed, that sometimes he ditched her to go out with his friends, even when they had agreed on a date. He would ask Wanda to go to her football games, but he didn't attend to her music recitals.
And yes, they were still kissing, and holding hands at school, going on dates. He was still giving her flowers, showing her off to everyone, proudly being her boyfriend.
And you trusted him enough to know he wouldn't cheat on her.
But still, you knew you could be better.
You would attend to each and every single one of her recitals, you would even wait for her at her rehearsals. Damm it, you did it. As her best friend you always waited for her after school. You took her home every afternoon, even if you had to go back to yours later.
You drove her to school every morning, patiently waiting for her to get ready. Vision said she always took too much time, so it was better to meet at school.
You would even go with her to walk her dog. She told you Vision wasn't "a dog person", so he didn't like touching her little dog.
Even Pietro, her twin brother, told you you were better for her one morning before leaving for school when you two were talking outside.
- I always thought you and my sister would end up together.
-What? - you asked, thinking you heard wrong - Why?
- Well, I thought you liked her, I mean, you have a really special bond, and I know she loves you too much... But maybe I was wrong.
You gulped, still freaking out.
- Yeah, maybe you were wrong.
He looked at you, analyzing you for a few seconds.
- But you know, high school relationships never last long... Perhaps, there's still a chance if you two take it.
Suddenly Wanda came out from the house and Pietro winked at you before leaving. He had a scholarship on a private school thanks to his athletic skills, that guy ran as fast as the light, so he didn't attend the same school as you and Wanda.
Under that circumstances high school years passed, and without even thinking about it, you were about to go to college.
Vision and Wanda had their ups and downs, but were still together.
And you were even more in love with her.
Everything was normal, although you noticed slightly changes in Wanda's behavior. She seemed a little less cheerful than before. But maybe that was just you.
You and Wanda always talked about going to NYU together. You also liked UCLA as well, but New York and Wanda sounded like a better idea.
Then she mentioned Vision was also thinking in NYU.
That made you second guess your decision, maybe UCLA was better for you. But no, you couldn't abandoned Wanda, she was happy that her best friend and her boyfriend would be with her.
You still had time to think about it though.
Prom got closer as the days went by, and you didn't know who you would ask to be your date.
You thought that, Wanda would go with Vision. But then she mentioned that his parents were hosting a dinner for him that same night, and that he asked her to be there.
- But you love prom, that's something you've been dreaming since freshman year... - you told her.
- I know, but he's my boyfriend Y/N, and it's a special night for him.
- It's a special night for you too Wands. Why don't you two come to the prom, and then you go to dinner the next day. The dinner can be any other day, but you can't move prom night...
- His parents settle the day, he didn't like the idea of coming anyways...
- But Wanda that's not fair.
- Well, I like the idea of spending that night with my boyfriend, so I'm happy about it too - she said, and you noticed an irritated tone in her voice.
- Are you sure?
- Yes Y/N, I'm sure, if you excuse me I need to go find Vision now.
She left you alone in the bench without saying goodbye.
From that day on things between you felt odd. But you were still picking her up for school and driving her home everyday.
Pietro told you he wasn't happy with his sister's decision on not attending to prom. But you already had gave up on that topic, so you just listened to him.
- By the way, who are you going with? Did you ask somebody? Or did somebody ask you?
You sighed.
- Well, your sister would've been my first choice if Vision didn't attend, but with this situation I don't know, maybe Kate Bishop, she's a really good friend too.
- Ohh, is Y/N going for something special with the archer girl?
- Oh stop it, she's just my friend, I like her but not that way.
- But you do like her...
- Pietro..
- Who do you like? - suddenly Wanda's voice interrupted you.
- Oh, no one, Pietro just like to tease.
- Yeah sure, I just like to tease...
You and him laughed, but Wanda seemed still confused.
- Whatever, let's go Wanda, it's gonna be late.
She went silent the whole way to school, and the moment you parked she just stepped out of the car and said thank to you. You didn't see her for the rest of the day.
That same week you prepared your promposal for Kate and asked her to be your date. She excitedly said yes, and hugged you in front of everyone watching.
In the afternoon, Wanda finally broke the silence on your way back home.
- So you and Kate huh?
- Amm yes, she's one of my closest friends and I wanted to be with someone I feel comfortable with the whole night.
- Hmm, that sounds nice, she's pretty and funny.
- I know, she's the perfect date.
- Why didn't you tell me before? That you were going to ask Kate.
You looked at her confused.
- Well, we haven't had talked that much this week, and I wasn't sure If I would do it until I just did it.
She nodded and looked through the window.
- I've been talking with Vision, about the prom situation and we decided to go to the prom, only for an hour or so, and then leave to have dinner with his parents.
- Oh, that's nice Wanda, it will be awesome to have you there.
- Yeah, that way I can go to prom and he gets his dinner. Everyone happy.
- Yep, everyone happy.
The awaited prom night finally came, you picked up Kate from her house, had nice pretty prom photos taken and had a lot of fun dancing and chatting with your friends.
Wanda and Vision were there as they promised, and since the moment Wanda stepped in the room you couldn't help but stared at her as if she was the only girl in the world.
Her beautiful black dress and her pinned hair did nothing but make her look even more beautiful (if that was possible).
Vision wasn't in the mood for dancing, so Wanda danced with you and your friends the whole time. You felt anger towards him. How could he do that to Wanda? You were dying for having a dance just with her and he wasn't even looking at her.
You felt crowded out of the sudden, so you excused yourself to Kate, telling her you needed to catch some air, and left the room.
Wanda noticed this and followed you right after.
You were standing in an empty hall when she found you.
- Are you okay Y/N? I saw you walking out of the room.
You were a little surprised to see she followed you. But answer with a little smile.
- Yes, I'm fine, it's just I needed some fresh air, it was getting a little bit crowded in there.
- Oh but are you alright? Are you feeling down?
- Oh no, I'm great, just needed some space. Why don't you go back? You were having fun.
- No, actually I was coming to say goodbye, Vision and I are leaving in a few minutes.
You frowned.
-Are you actually leaving? You're having so much fun in there.
- I know but I promised Vision to go to his dinner. Also his parents will be there, I can't cancel them last minute.
- Why not? He canceled you last minute like a thousand times, why can't you take one night to yourself? - you asked slightly annoyed. Wanda deserved to enjoy her prom night, and Vision was taking it away from her.
- Why are you bringing that up? - she asked, also annoyed - Just because he failed sometimes doesn't mean he's a bad person.
- I'm not saying he's a bad person, I'm saying he's a bad boyfriend.
- What? How can you say that? Have you been hating him this whole time?
At this point the both of you were raising your voice tone.
- Yes, I hate whenever he made you feel bad just because he didn't know how to treat you. And I hate that you always forgave him, never realizing that he doesn't deserve you Wanda. Damm it! He's even forcing you to leave your own prom night!
- Are you serious? I'm telling you I want to go, yes I'm having fun but... He needs me.
- I'm your best friend, I need you too, I wanted this to be a special night for us but now you only care about Vision. I tried to be nice to him, but now I like him less and less everytime.
- He doesn't like you either... - she said seriously.
- What?
- He doesn't like you either Y/N, he had always thought that you liked me, that you were in love with me.
Your heart was rushing, and a sudden blushed invaded your face.
- I told him he was wrong, we're only friends. But he never said something mean about you, why are you so against him?
You were still in shock.
- Y/N? Why do you dislike Vision so much?
Your mind was working too fast. He knew, he knew you liked his girlfriend. Maybe this was the proper time to come clean, to try your chance with her. Or maybe it wasn't. Your brain was having a several short-circuit, and before you even though about it, the words came out of your mouth.
- He's right - you said - I love you Wanda, I've been loving you for years.
Wanda could swear the world stopped moving for a second.
- What?
- He's right Wanda, I'm in love with you - you repeated - I'm really sorry if that's weird for you to hear but... And I know it's a really bad timing but I needed you to know.
She looked straight into your eyes, looking for any sign of that being a joke. But she only found your attentive gaze on her, waiting for an answer.
- Y/N... Why are you doing this? You know I... - she seemed nervous and shocked - I can't, he's there and...
- Don't leave Wanda, stay with me.
You saw she was processing everything. A little part of your soul hoped she would nod her head and kiss you, telling you she was in love you with too. But your realistic part took the hit sooner. She was stepping back.
- I'm sorry, I need to go, he's waiting for me.
- Wanda.... - you tried to stop her, but she turned around and started to walk away.
- I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea... That's probably my fault.
- It's not your fault - you said - I'm sorry if I messed things up, I'm so sorry.
She didn't hear that last part, as she was already out of your sight.
You stayed there in the empty hall for twenty minutes. You told everything to Kate and she suggested you to go back home. You didn't want to leave her all alone, but she assured you she would be okay with the rest of your friends so you gave in and left.
You were miserable.
She didn't love you.
She didn't choose you.
The next day she posted a picture of her and Vision at the prom and you knew there wasn't anything you could do.
That week you sent your application letter to the UCLA.
You needed to move on, and you definitely wouldn't apply to the same school as Wanda and her boyfriend.
She made a choice. And that wasn't you.
You had no future in New York.
You had no future with Wanda.
I know Pietro, she's great but, she's my best friend - Wanda said to her brother, tears dried all over her cheeks - I just never thought she would feel the same way. I didn't know what to say, I just wanted to run. Now I think it's all messed up, it's too late. There's nothing left to do. She probably hates me. But... I think I'm still in love with her.
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acewoo · 5 months
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Jjk men Bf head-cannons
Note: pure fluff, Sfw Characters included: Gojo, Geto, and sukuna
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Satoru Gojo
Gojo will send you tonssss of voice messages talking about literally anything. He’ll be on his couch laying down and he’ll send you a voice message about how the show he’s watching is so boring. “The female lead doesn’t even have any personality and is just there to make the male lead look good!” You’ll complain to him sometimes that he send too many of these voice messages but, he responds that it couldn’t be true because, you love the sound of his voice. (And to be fair you do listen to every one he sends.)
Gojo cannot cook for the life of him. Anytime you try to teach him something wrong will always happen. For example you tired showing him how to make spaghetti and meatballs which is simple enough, right? Wrong. Because Gojo, not only ended up burning the pasta (somehow which still boggles your mind to this day) but, the meatballs weren’t exactly balls… They were certainly meat, and they tasted like meatballs but… they were only shaped to say the least.
Gojo definitely spoils you. And anytime you try to tell him he's doing too much he’ll come up with an excuse for why buying you a 180.00 skirt was necessary. “Well I had to get it, it was the last one and it’d work perfectly for that Christmas party we're attending!” To clarify he was talking about, the Christmas party that was three months away. Of course in all fairness you wouldn't complain too much… It would look pretty nice on you.
Suguru Geto
Even the smallest gestures he does for you are full of thought. Whenever you're having a long day at work you'll usually text Geto about your frustrations. He's trying to be supportive as you rant and help you calm down. When you get home you’ll be welcome to a newly cleaned apartment and Geto in the kitchen finishing up making your favorite meal for dinner. When he sees your home he’ll immediately start talking to you “I’ll finish up here soon, how are you feeling?” The rest of night would end up being him taking care of you fully making you forget about work entirely.
This mf definitely remembers the small things within your relationship and he’ll remember things about you no one else will. For instance you disliked when people surprised you from behind. It wasn’t anything that majorly bugged you but, it made you feel uncomfortable. (Especially since you weren’t a huge fan of being touched) When Geto found this out when we you guys were out in public or hanging with a group of friends he’d always stay slightly behind you. When you questioned why he did this, he said it was so he could make sure no one will surprise you like that. Even though you insisted he didn’t have to he still did which you couldn’t help but love him even more for.
Sukuna
He’s possessive, like really possessive. (He swears he’s not though). Anytime your in public around people or not he’ll make it clear your his. Whether that’s an arm around your waist or being very intimate with you even if it’s not the most appropriate… Whenever it’s at places such as a club it’ll be even worse, not only will be touchy but his whole mind and body will be focused on you. (Even if he doesn’t realize it..) And that’s the thing he doesn’t realize he’s like that infact anytime you bring it up to him he swears you’re just overthinking things. Because, him, Sukuna being possessive over another person? Fucking ridicules. Totally not in denial.
One thing you wouldn’t expect from Sukuna would be him to be rather supportive of you and your decisions. Of course it wasn’t exactly the most traditional way people are supportive. But hey, it’s Sukuna nothing about him is ‘normal’. Sukuna is supportive in the way where you’ll feel insecure about wearing and he’ll give you a confused look. “Why the hell would yah not wear it?” Flushed you respond. “It makes me look bad like-“ “I don’t know what you’re on about I like how it looks on you so you’re wearing it.” And of course you weren’t going to argue with your bf so, you wear it. Throughout the day He’ll make comments about how good you look which make you blush. Of course it isn’t exactly the lovely dovey kind of comments but still.
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