#there's no way in hell he'd pressure her to do anything like that before she feels safe and ready

[transboykirito]

I disagree with you. Kazuto wants to sleep with Asuna for a long time before the movie. He even says so during the GGO arc. They didn't wait if he wanted it all that time.

okay but he has a hand and wifi

#anon #asks #HMMMM i don't like the wording here at all actually #'THEY didn't wait if HE wanted it' okay and how about HER #arguably they're both still shy about it in the phantom bullet arc and MAYBE he was ready the but she wasn't #it's so glaringly obvious that she wasn't ready until ordinal scale #and he respected that. he never pushed for it. they did it when they were both completely comfortable #like. yeah. he wanted to. she's his girlfriend and he's ridiculously attracted to her. but he can take care of stuff on his own #there's no way in hell he'd pressure her to do anything like that before she feels safe and ready #and it's not like he hasn't mentioned watching p*rn before lmao he can make do

[fairlyang]

Thigh riding 🕷️

you are peer pressured to somehow help Miguel from the hell of a week he's had

w/c: 5.5K

pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut, no use of y/n, lil plot, angy Miguel, going in with no plan, pestering, lots of tension, giving in, making out, thigh riding, jerking him off, tasting each other, cum

notes: the beginning of this I reused for “prank” but that was an og idea I abandoned then did end up using 💀

Miguel had been stressed, annoyed, and overworked for the past week and a half. No one even dared to go into his office or bothered to start up a conversation if they saw him walk the hallways of HQ. Not even Jess.

But that didn't stop Gwen from plotting something, because "why not."

"He will literally kill anything that comes within a 100 feet radius of him-" Miles says making me scoff.

"1000." I mutter shaking my head.

"Okay but we need to help him out somehow-" Gwen starts to say and I widen my eyes.

"Gwen, he will literally kill someone on instant impact-"

"Don't exaggerate-" she starts to say and I cut her off grabbing the ends of my mask and take it off for dramatic effect.

"I saw a glimpse of both veins yesterday." I say and shiver in exaggerated horror. "From afar."

They both turn to look at me with widened eyes. "Neck and forehead?" Miles asks with his mouth agape.

I nod and scoff, "So if you want a death wish....."

"I just feel bad-" she says and sighs. "There must be some way we can distract or help him?"

"I mean I feel bad too, it's not a nice thing to see... but what can we do?" I say and sigh.

Helping him or even bothering up to talk to him would be like talking to a concrete wall. Impossible and won't do anything.

"Maybe take him to one of those rooms where you hit garbage with a bat." Miles says and shrugs.

"A rage room? You suggest we take our boss to a rage room?" I ask and laugh. "Then he'd just get offended we think he has anger issues."

"Think?" I hear a familiar British voice speak and look up seeing Hobie walk towards our table.

I snicker then bite my lip. I'll shut up, Miguel could appear out of thin air. "Tell Gwen that we shouldn't be messing with the devil reincarnate."

"She and Miles shouldn't. Hell I definitely shouldn't..... but....." he trails on as he sits next to me and I groan.

"Do not even-"

"Perfect so you know where I'm going with this. Have fun-"

"Absolutely fucking not-"

"But why-"

"I don't wanna die!!"

"No, you won't-"

"He doesn't even have spidey senses and he's somehow just gonna sense the air being different before I even walk in-"

"Calm down-"

"He's fucking built different Hobie I'd be a goner-"

"Calm the fuck down!"

"Do you want me dead?!?" I hiss and he chuckles shaking his head at me and sits across from me.

"What don't you get- listen... he might dislike the rest of us. A lot.. but you're different-"

"Don't say that-“

"It's true and you know it!" He exclaims laughing at my reaction and I bite my lip looking down. There's no way....

I sigh and take a deep breath. Oh god.

"How the fuck do I change his mood though? I can't be too chirpy or pester him. Both are things I'm an expert in but won't help- it'll make shit more fucked-" I whine and groan.

"You can figure it out. You of all people can figure something out...." Miles cuts in and I roll my eyes.

"Come on arañita-" he teases and i scoff. (little spider)

"Oh fuck off-"

"See you're the only one that is even worthy of a nickname by the devil." Hobie teases with a smirk and I scoff.

Fuck-

"I never-" I freeze, eye widened. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

All three turn to look at me and give me a look. I purse my lips and close my eyes. I’m the only one worthy of a nickname? Really? just me- Did it really have to be me? I mean he does tolerate me. My presence. On a regular basis.... barely...

Shit.

I sigh and look back at them. "FINE." I mutter and stand up.

Gwen lets out a sigh and Miles covers his mouth not wanting to laugh. I glare at him and he lets out a snicker. "Miles Morales-"

"My bad!!" He says and covers his mouth again.

"If you don't hear from me within the next two hours, I'm as good as dead. Hobie you can keep my dog." I say semi jokingly and he nods giving me a thumbs up.

I roll my eyes at him and turn to Gwen, "You owe me one."

She waves me off letting out a laugh and I sigh. "Good luck." Miles says and fake salutes me.

I walk away from the table and instantly hear them snickering. Couldn't even wait for me to be gone-

What did I get myself into?

I let out a deep breath as I walk out of the cafeteria. I'm done for.

I walk the halls of HQ and head over to Miguel's office. i couldn't help but think. I guess it was kind of true? I bugged him but he never got like really mad? It's like he almost didn't mind my company? He's never kicked me out... what did that mean though?

Now the thing about Miguel is he's a very sarcastic, sometimes cold, very angry man. I somehow ended up kind of befriending him by calling him out on shit early on when I was recruited and he hates when I do it but somewhat respects I have the guts to do it at all. I play around with him a lot and at first it bugged him, a lot but then he started doing it back and that's the dynamic we have going.

Now this didn't make me an exception from when he gets pissed like he is now. At least that's what I was thinking..... but after seeing and hearing what Hobie was saying, I was conflicted. But why wouldn't he get mad at me? Because I was barely able to befriend him? I wasn't even close to the level of friendship he has with Jess and even she hasn't dared to talk to him.... or even Peter's friendship with him, and he's been with him through his ups and downs. So it wouldn't make any sense...

I shake off my thoughts and take a deep breath standing outside his door. I peep through one of the windows and he's looking at his screens. So he definitely hasn't heard me... yet.

I open the door as quietly and slowly as I can only to be met with his frustrated grunts at the screens in front of him. I quietly close the door and lean against the wall. He's swiping along muttering swears in English and Spanish making my eyes go wide.

I'm fucking done for. I didn't even come in with a fucking shed of an idea of how to distract him or cheer his ass up. I'm done. Me va gritar, me va chingar, y ni me va hacer caso- (he's gonna scream at me, beat my ass and he's not even gonna pay attention to me-)

Then he turns around to look me right in the eye, making me jump, and snarls, "You're breathing loud arañita, que quieres?" (what do you want?)

"You have some balls to come in here." He mutters before quickly turning back and mumbles, "Chingdada madre-" (mother fucker)

I cover my mouth to hide my nervous laughter and shake my head. I'm fucking breathing loud??? I knew this would happen-

"Be nice Miguelito, I just came to... check up on you.." I say and walk up to him slowly. I felt a bubble of nervousness form in my stomach and my hands were getting sweaty under my suit. This was gonna be bad...

He turns back around to me pressing a button on his watch making his mask disappear, showing me his distressed face and scoffs. "Check up on me? Oh so now I need hawk eyes all over me at all times?"

I gulp and stop just a few feet away from his platform. What the fuck do I even say???

"Do I look like I need checking up on?!?" He says and slams a hand on the desk making papers fly off and a pen roll off to the floor.

My eyes shift from his eyes to the floor to his neck. Oh god the veins... It's only the one on his neck- I'll try to keep it that way...

"Well...." I trail on and take a step up to his platform but still not within range to touch him or vice versa.

He completely turns to look at me and places a hand on his hip with a look on his face. What was it? Curiosity? Annoyance? Anger? I couldn't tell.

"Listen..." I start and put my hands up in defense, "we were starting to get worried-"

"We?"

"Yes. We. A handful of us..." I say and take another step forward and now having to look up at him but still not within reach. Oh fuck.

"And I think you've been in here too long... necesitas relajarte o distraerte." I say softly and put my hands down slowly. (you need to relax or distract yourself)

"Quieres que me relaje? Distráeme?" He asked unamused with a cocked eyebrow. (you want me to relax? To distract myself)

I simply nod and hold my breath.

Fuck fuck fuck.

"And how do you propose I do that?" He asks raising an eyebrow at me and I bite my lip.

That's such a good question....

"hmm... well I actually didn't really have an idea....." I trail on, scratching the back of my neck and he scoffs.

"So you came in here-" he starts but I interrupt.

"Now listen-"

"No, you listen-"

"Miguel-"

"You came here-"

"Yes-"

"With no idea-"

"Well Gwen was getting worri-"

"Gwen-"

"Well me too I guess but-"

"Oh so you were too-"

"Cállate-" (shut up)

"Escúchame arañita-" (listen to me little spider)

"And it's not that I didn't have a plan-"

"Really because it sure sounds-"

"I just didn't think-"

"You never do-"

"Cabron-" (asshole/bitch)

"Latosa." He snarls and I scoff. (annoying ass)

"Mendigo-" I blurt out and cross my arms against my chest. Then it hits me. (asshole but more aggressive maybe bastard fits)

Fuck.

He walks towards me giving me a glare and I freeze. This is it. I've lived a decent life- I got to enjoy my spider powers for as long as I could, helped a ton of people. But this is it-

He steps in front of me and I bite my lip looking at his chest too fucking petrified to look him in the eye. I bring my arms down to my sides and widen my eyes. Oh god why did he have to be so fucking intimidating.

He unfortunately gets rid of my thoughts and takes care of my lack of eye contact by lifting my chin up with two fingers. I gulp and stare into his eyes.

Amusement. Shock.

Then I look down at his lips. A smirk?

Huh?

"Repeat what you said." He demands and I stifle a laugh.

He was enjoying this? Maybe all he needed was a little pestering? Shockingly enough- could he have missed me- nah.... that's a stretch.

I look directly into his eyes and cross my arms against my chest. "Men-di-go." I say slowly making sure to annunciate every syllable exaggeratedly. I purse my lips and widen my eyes slightly.

I'm playing with fire. No- worse- a fucking ticking time bomb.

He raises an eyebrow with a shocked expression and I have the urge to burst out laughing but I don't want to make this any worse. Then in a swift movement his hand is gripping my jaw and my breath hitches in my throat. He tilts his head and leans down so I can't look at anything besides his eyes.

Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh.

He narrows his eyes down and I'm on the verge of breaking. I bite my lip, my heartbeat quickens, my cheeks grow red. His stare was intense. Neither of us looking away.

His grip was then softer, for a split second before he takes another step forward making me yelp as my lower back hit one of his desks.

His body towered over mine and his hands were then gripping the desk behind me, or on each side of my body so I had nowhere to go. I was trapped but it didn't feel intimidating. He didn't look like he was going to pounce. I let my hands stay on my sides and I couldn't move. I felt like I was frozen.

What the fuck was this?

My breathing was a bit unsteady and I couldn't do anything. Why'd I feel like I was in a trance?

My mind then took an unexpected turn from being nervous to intrigued. Excited. And I couldn't help but take a close notice of his features. His pretty crimson eyes. His high cheekbones. His thick eyebrows. His full lips. His big nose- we all know what they say about big noses-

No—

I then feel an oh so familiar feeling appear in my stomach and I gulp. Oh fuck.

My eyes slowly made their way down and really took in everything. I've never been so close to this man... ever... I was able to see everything-

His chiseled jawline that genuinely looked like it was sculpted by gods. Then I realized how much bigger and taller he was than me. He was huge. His broad shoulders. His toned chest. Muscular arms. Those biceps the size of my head. Which were all shown absolutely perfectly by his skintight suit. 

Well every inch of him was shown to perfection, accentuating every curve, line, inch of his practically Greek god physique.

I then thought of escaping, my thoughts were going some place they've never been towards him, my breathing was unsteady, but then I felt his hands moving down to my waist making me take a deep breath in. What the fuck??? Que está tramando??? (what is he plotting???)

Suddenly as if a light switched in my brain I realized what I had to offer to relax or distract him.... I felt my cheeks get hot and I shift a tiny bit. Was I really going to-

I slowly looked back up at his eyes and he was already staring at me. He leans down a tiny bit, I could feel him breathing on my nose... I bite my lip and try to calm myself down. There's no way he's thinking the same I am.... Right?

His eyes had darkened and they looked glossy. The look in his eye- it was impossible to miss... oh my god-

I breathe out and slowly move my hand from my sides to go up to his chest. I prayed I wasn't reading shit incorrectly and leave my hands there gently. He didn't stop me. He didn't even flinch. Oh wow....

I didn't know where to go from here- I noticed his heartbeat going all over the place as well. Was he just as nervous as me? Just as excited?

Maybe he's had pent up arousal?

But do I help him?

He leans down a tiny bit more and our lips are now millimeters apart. His grip on my waist was firm and his body was against mine. I could now see the lust in his eyes and I have a feeling he sees it in mine. I was appalled. We've never, ever done anything like this. It didn't exactly feel wrong but it was odd? Different. Confusing. But felt right?

I slowly reach up to wrap my arms behind his neck and look into his eyes then down at his lips. They were right there.

He then clears his throat and I look back up into his eyes. "Creo que ya se como me puedo distraer." He whispers softly, his breath lightly hitting my lips, and I feel myself almost melt. (I think I know how I can distract myself)

So he was thinking the same as me.....

I nod in agreement, not trusting myself to speak and he takes that as his green light. I close my eyes and I feel the softness of his lips on mine. Instant sparks running through my body as I slowly kiss him back. I didn't think I would feel this way- hell I didn't think I'd ever kiss Miguel of all people... but it felt so good and natural...

I felt the flush of my cheeks grow warmer as I felt one of his hands going down to my hips and the other softly wrapped around my neck, and deepening the kiss at the same time.

I move my hands up to play with the ends of his curls and lightly tug on them making him let out a moan. I then slide my tongue into his mouth exploring every crevice as I feel his hands snake down and grope my ass, making a combination of a moan and groan leave my throat.

I feel him smirk before shoving his tongue in my mouth and I melt into his arms. He grabs the back of my thighs and lifts me onto the desk and stands in between my legs. I wrap them around his waist and bring him closer to me which makes him change the pace of the kiss, more passion, hunger, neediness.

I moan into his mouth and he pulls away making me whimper but his lips went down leaving wet kisses on my jaw, then moving down to my neck. I tilt my head to the side giving him more room as he licks a spot then sucking on it roughly making me gasp and grip onto his hair.

He groans against my skin and I feel my eyes fluttering as I feel heat go deep into my core. I was breathing heavily and the way I felt his hand go down to squeeze my thigh, definitely wasn't helping. His other hand was playing with my long hair as he left more love bites on my neck. By this time I felt like my neck was invaded with red marks, he would suck then lick it softly to ease the slight pain and repeat.

His hands were suddenly rougher on me, his hand on my thighs now nearing my inner thigh, trailing up and down, teasing me. He was now tugging on my hair making me head go back and he kissed up my throat sending shivers all throughout my body.

He pecks my lips softly then bites my bottom lip lightly. I cup his cheek and he suddenly picks me up so my legs are wrapped around his waist as he sits us down on the chair he has in his office.

I was sitting on his lap so I leaned down to kiss his neck making my way to his ear and nibble on it. I felt his breathing get harder and a groan leave his lips. I grind myself slowly onto him, I almost stopped when I felt him- he was so fucking hard...

I positioned myself properly and moved to grind directly on his bulge as I went down to kiss down his neck wanting to leave some marks on him. I found a spot and sucked on it harshly before licking it and moving my head towards his throat and kiss up it. I felt a groan against my mouth and I couldn't help but moan.

Why was that so hot?

I felt my wetness moving around between my thighs, I was possibly leaking through my suit- how the hell would that even be possible?

"Así- mm así mami-" he moans out and I move my hips a bit faster. I felt my eyes flutter and I felt like I could pass out already but I knew I had to stay in the moment. (Just like that)

I felt his hands grip on my hips helping me grind against him while my hands were behind his neck trying to steady myself. I moaned against his throat and I felt his hips buck up making his bulge directly rub against my clit. Fuck. "S-shit-" I murmur and feel my eyes closing.

"Would you get mad if I ripped your suit open?" He suddenly asks and I stop. I widen my eyes and I just look at him.

"A-Are you insane-"

"I could have Lyla make you a new one right now-"

"Don't call her now!!"

"I'm just saying-"

I then close my mouth and shake my head slowly. He motions for me to stand up and I get off his lap and stand in front of him with furrowed brows. He gets on his knees then in just a few seconds his hands go to my thighs as he rips the fabric of my suit, between my legs to be more specific. Now I just had a big hole between my thighs. "You owe me a new and improved suit by tomorrow." I mutter and he just chuckled and grabbed the back of my thighs.

He left small kisses on my inner thigh and I felt my legs shake. God how did he have this much of an affect on me-

I then suddenly feel cold and I look down and gasp at the sight. He used his fangs to rip my panties.

My mouth was wide open as he looks up at me with a smirk, my little blue thong between his fingertips. "Oh you sick f-" I start but then he spreads my legs apart and blows a small puff of air against my slit making me quiver.

I whine and he laughs. "Que decías nena?" He teases making me try to squeeze my thighs but he had a strong grip on them. That petname- (what were you saying baby girl?)

From his lips- madre mía- (oh my god-)

"S-sick fuck." I mutter and he smirks.

"Now I still want you riding my thigh... but I need to taste you." He growls and as soon as he finishes his sentence he licks a long strip on my already soaked pussy.

I moan and indistinctly move my hands down to his hair. He licks it softly at first until he went up to my swollen clit and kissed it, licked it then sucked on it harshly like a man that hasn't had dinner for weeks. He definitely was a starved man.

"M-Mig-" I moan out and buck my hips towards his face. He groans against my pussy and his hands grip the back of my thighs harder.

I move my hips back and forth and he continues eating out my pussy. His hands moved to smack my ass for a second and then up to my hips helping me grind against his mouth. "So good Miguel-" I murmur breathless.

He pulls away making me whimper until he brings a finger up to rub my swollen nub and I let out a moan. "Estas más deliciosa de lo que me imaginé arañita." He purrs looking right into my eyes. (you're more delicious than what I had imagined)

I whimper and close my eyes. This is really happening.... Miguel O'Hara is between my legs- I just felt his tongue on my pussy... he is on his fucking knees looking up at me- All it took to distract him was some pussy?

I come back to reality when I no longer feel his touch. I open my eyes to see he's stood back up. I look up at him as he back up to sit back up on the chair. Oh....

With one finger he motions for me to sit on his lap and I don't hesitate to walk back to him and place myself on his lap again. He shifts in the chair to have his left thigh directly on most of the chair then grabs my hips and make me lift one leg over his.

He brings my hips down my pussy now making contact with his suit. I gasp at the new texture and put my hands against his shoulders slowly moving. "Good girl." He purrs and his hands on my hips helping me move making it easier for me.

"I- but y-your suit-" I stammer and try to stop but his hands make me continue moving.

"It's fine." He whispers and presses on his watch and I watch as the lower half of his body is soon exposed as the pixels of his suit disintegrate.

My pussy was now directly on his toned thigh and it felt so good. My eyes begin fluttering again as I move my hips rubbing myself against his now soaked thigh. I then open them again and instantly take notice he's completely bare.

My breath hitched at my throat when I looked at his thick cock that was already throbbing and leaking with precum. I widen my eyes and gulp. There was no fucking way he'd fit... as if he read my mind he chuckles and lifts my chin up to look at him then holds my hands. "We don't have to go all the way- if anything I think seeing you cum will do it for me." He says and I feel my cheeks grow warm.

I subconsciously squeeze my thighs together and he groans. I bite my lip and roll my hips back and forth again, my hands going back to his shoulders to steady myself. He lets out a deep breath and his hands go back to my hips. "Look at you fucking dripping on me pretty girl." He purrs making me blush.

I look down at his cock and bring a hand down to gently grab it then spit on it. I start stroking him with my saliva dripping down a vein and I feel myself getting wetter. He groans, his grip on my hips now tighter as I grind myself faster on him. "M-Miguel-"

"You're doing so good arañita." He murmurs as I stroke him faster letting out moans of my name.

I whimper and feel my thighs starting to hurt but I was also slowly feeling my orgasm coming in. "Asi nena- se siente tan rico-" he praises breathlessly. (Just like that baby girl- it feels so good-)

He lays his head back and I let out bundles of moans and whines on top of him. He bucks his thigh up making me whimper in pure pleasure. My eyes were glossy, my body was growing tired but I was so close and he was too I could tell by the way his cock was twitching in my hand. I lean forward closer to him to have somewhat easier access to jerking him off.

One of his hands lets go of my hip and cups my cheek as he leans in to kiss me roughly. It was the sloppiest kiss I've ever endured in my life but I didn't mind and I kissed him back with just as much of his neediness. He moved his thigh up and down making my tremble and moan against his lips. "No pares-" he mumbles against my lips and I slide my tongue in his mouth stroking him even faster. (Don't stop-)

I feel him groan in my mouth and I melt into his shoulder almost giving out. Both his hands were back on my hips pushing them back and forth as he saw I was slowing down a bit. How kind.

I pull away and l lean my forehead against his, breathing heavily, legs trembling. My orgasm quickly took over making me shake more and let out shaky moans. I stop moving trying to calm my rapid heartbeat as I felt Miguel's grip dropped from my hips and to hold my other hand. Our fingers intertwined and my hand still didn't stop but that's when I looked down at his cock in my hands and realized he was cumming so I slowed down, letting him ride his high.

He let out so many grunts and moans bucking his hips into my hand. His streaks of cum shot up to my hands, his stomach, and my thighs. I chuckle looking down at the mess he made and bite my lip.

It's only fair I get to taste him too.

I bring my hand up to my mouth and lick off his cum that landed on my hand. I hear him gasp when I swallowed and I look up at him with a smirk. "I needed to taste you too." I say and bite my lip.

He snickers and shakes his head. I then notice the slight tug of a smile forming. Jesus.

Oh god- why the fuck did that give me butterflies.... Why did he look so good.

I looked at him, eyes hazed, hair pulled back, he was sweaty but he looked fine. So fucking good.

I can't believe we did that- us.

He was still holding my hand and I feel myself blush. Fuck- well now what?

I let out a sigh and try to stand up but instantly felt the pain in my thighs. "Fuck-" I groan and sit back down on him.

"Come here I got you." He says softly and moves my left leg over.

I lay my head against his shoulder and I feel him slowly lifting me up. I wrap my arms behind his neck and nuzzle between his chest. I felt fucking exhausted. "You did so good arañita." He whispers and I fight back a smile.

He walked up off deeper into his office, probably taking us to his room considering he completely fucked up my suit and my whole pussy was on display. I pull away and point at him. "New suit-"

"Yeah yeah yeah- para mañana. I got it." He retorts and I laugh. (For tomorrow)

He placed me down on his bed and I yawn. My body felt so sore and I look down at my thighs. Still had his cum on me... I bite my lip and shake my head in disbelief. How did this happen?

He walked over to his dresser and grabbed a shirt and some sweats. I scoff and shake my head. "Those won't fit."

He rolls his eyes at me and throws them at me, I catch them before they can whack me in the face. "Rude." I mutter and start talking off the remains of my suit.

I grab the ends from my neck and pull it down my body. Thank god I decided to wear a bra today.

"Where the fuck is my-?" I start to say then look up at him mouth agape.

I look at his hand and sure enough there it is. My thong. "Give it-"

"Ask nicely."

"I literally just helped distract you from your shitty ass week- dámelo!!!" I demand and stand up somehow gaining the strength to walk over to him. (give it to me!!!)

His eyes gaze down at my bra and I roll my eyes. "Want the matching bra?" I tease and he smirks.

"Well it is only fair I get bo-"

"Estas loco- now give it!!!" I whine and reach for it but unfortunately he was faster than me and lifts it high above my head. (You're crazy-)

Why did he have to be built like a giant at desperate times like this....

"I have an idea-" he starts but I interrupt.

"Dámelo latoso." I say sternly and he scrunches his nose. (Give it to me annoying fuck)

"You're not convincing me very well..." he trails on and I shake my head.

"Fine." I say walking back to his bed and putting on the clothes he gave me.

I slip on the big sweatpants and groan. I pull on the drawstrings to the tightest it can go and tie it. "It looks like I have no ass-" I whine and roll my eyes.

I quickly slip on the shirt and take off my bra. I slip the straps off my arms through the arm holes and then take the bra off from under. I throw it at him and with ease he caught it.

"Maybe this'll be how we can calm your ass down...." I say and give him a wink before walking out of his room.

"You're the perfect distraction arañita." He calls out and I bite my lip.

I take a few steps and I was back in his office before I quickly ran out. I open the door, slip out then close it. I lean against the door and can't help the smile the appeared on my face. Wow.

#miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara smut #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel smut #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara fic

[bookofbonbon]

strut: into the archives - coriolanus snow.

Characters: Coriolanus Snow.

Warnings: Not edited so, bad grammar and probably bad spelling. Anything 1k+ is immediately too long for me to want to read back and edit.

Summary: Coriolanus is determined to find out who you are.

Word Count: 1800+.

A/N: They don't interact in this one. It's just all Coriolanus fretting over the fact that he doesn't know shit about reader and being determined to find out. Boring, I know however, this will be the segue into the beginning of their relationship!

Sleep evaded Coriolanus, your words playing over again in his head and haunting him throughout the night.

I think you know exactly what I mean, Coriolanus, or would like me to fetch a jabberjay to explain it to you?

The map in his hand crumples under the pressure of his closing fist.

It made no sense, how could you have known about the jabberjay? Nobody had known, except for Dr. Gaul and what benefit would it be to her to release that information? None. Nobody else had known and he had tied up all of his loose ends… hadn’t he?

Early morning chirps drew his attention to the window and away from the smoldering fire of his study's fireplace; the first rays of sunlight peeking from behind the drawn curtains - reminding him that yet another day had passed and still he knew absolutely nothing of weight about you and yet you? You already knew his darkest secret.

Leaning forward, his elbows dig into his knees as he haphazardly runs his hands through his hair and down his face; trying hard to drag something up of substance about you from last four or so weeks ago for what had to be the hundredth time that night.

The most he could recall was that he returned from District 12 and there you were, Sejanus's estranged cousin - he'd only heard of you once before from Sejanus but of course, Coriolanus wasn't actually listening so, he couldn't recall - and he didn't question your presence, why would he? Why would he care when he was finally returned to where he rightfully belonged in the Capitol. He had been honorably discharged from the Peacekeepers effective immediately, awarded the Plinth prize, studying under Dr. Gaul and interning as a Gamemaker not to mention that with the way things were going for him, he was sure he would soon be named the heir to the Plinth’s Munitions empire.

He alone, Coriolanus, was restoring the Snow name to its former prestige; finally getting back all that he had been owed. So why the hell would he have cared about the plain faced girl standing beside Ma Plinth when she and old Strabo greeted him for the first time upon his return?

Coriolanus had simply dismissed your presence as Ma bringing in a stray Plinth - an attempt to mend her broken heart. Of course, Coriolanus's return brought them to their senses, reminding them that he was Sejanus's best friend and only he could fill the Sejanus shaped hole left in their lives. You were still there of course but, he had completely- stupidly disregarded you and your slights toward him as absurd District prejudice against those from the Capitol - she's no threat, he had told himself, guard as far down as he ever let it… what a mistake that had been. 

It took you quite literally hitting him with your car for him to identify you as a threat - maybe you were right, maybe he was too busy strutting about.

Coriolanus scowled, standing from the butter-soft, leather, armchair and made for his bedroom; putting an end to his sulking effective immediately with the sun's rising. Nothing would come from ruminating on what he hadn’t done while daylight was burning and it was clear that there was only one thing left for him to do and that was finding out exactly who you were.

He’d already had the wool pulled over his eyes by Lucy Gray, he wouldn’t allow you to do the same and he’d start at the second commonplace the two of you frequented.

-

Showered and immaculately dressed, the sun was still rising into the sky when Coriolanus climbed the steps of the Citadel.

He bypasses the high security zone with ease, the peacekeepers nodding in his direction; Coriolanus thankful for the odd hours that Dr. Gaul called on him as it didn't raise suspicion about his earlier than normal visit. That and he knew his presence was both welcomed and revered by those who worked in the grand building.

His strides are long but evenly paced as he walks the familiar route toward the elevators once inside; there he waits impatiently, smiling tightly at the two people who passed.

Ding!

-

The ride is an agonizingly slow few seconds and when the doors finally slide open to reveal the unfamiliar floor to Coriolanus, the first thing he spots is the huge sign hanging up ahead with bold block writing- 

ARCHIVES

It’s as pristine as every other floor he had visited so far in the Citadel; however, there was something particularly sterile about it. 

Approaching the front desk; a short, lithe woman stands behind it, her Citadel uniform pristinely pressed and fitted and without a single flaw; a reflection of the immaculately organized files he could spy beyond the glass wall that stood behind her.

“Hi,” Coriolanus greets her with a charming smile but she doesn’t spare a single glance his way so he goes the other route - straight to the point. 

“I require all documents on the Initial Jabberjay Project.”

This gets her attention, “for what purpose?”

“I’m working with Dr. Gaul and Dr. Kay on the repurposing of the jabberyjays.”

She eyes him suspiciously at first until her gaze settles on his security clearance badge. 

“Private Snow?” she questions. 

This time Coriolanus becomes suspicious, head cocking to the side in question; no one had called him that since he left District 12. 

“I recall your name from the files on the District 12 Reserve of the Jabberjay and Mockingjay, Species” she explains, gesturing to the device in front of her. “We just finished processing the files onto the new computer system.”

“Uh- yeah, that was me,” Coriolanus relaxes with what he hopes to be a sheepish smile. “You can just call me Coriolanus now.”

He never wanted to hear anyone call him Private Snow again, he didn’t need the reminder of that disgustingly horrid place. 

“Sign in here,” she hands him a form, a tray appearing from a cavity in the desk. “Place your bag in there and come around the side once you’re done.”

He does as she says, coming up the side and meeting her at the first barricade - where she completes a security check on him - and then to the second glass barricade.

Once through, she provides him with white gloves, directions to finding the Initial Jabberjay Project files and directions to the files on the District 12 Reserve, "if you're interested." 

Pulling the gloves on, Coriolanus thanks her but, before he can venture further inside, she stops him. 

“I’m glad you put forward the slaughter of those mockingjays. They’re unnatural and their species should be eradicated. Well done, soldier.” 

Pride swells in his chest at her praise and she salutes him. He returns the gesture instinctively and she turns swiftly, disappearing back through where they came, the door closing behind her. 

The resounding click of the door alerts Coriolanus to the fact that he’s now locked in the Archives without any way to escape. Heat prickles at his skin, the same trapped feeling of being in the arena creeping up on him slowly but he shakes it away before its grip can cease him. 

You're in the Capitol Archives in the Citadel, he reminds himself. You're safe.

Not bothering with the Initial Jabberjay Project files, Coriolanus makes his way to the District 12 Reserve files - they’re new and already on the new computer system and more of a chance for him to be able to actually take the files out of the building.

Making his way to his second destination, Coriolanus follows the directions he’d spent all night memorising; the map of the archives burnt into his memory having studied it all through the night when sleep would not come; taking him further and further into the archives until finally, he arrives at his intended destination - Employee Records.

He moves quickly but there's hundreds, thousands, maybe tens of thousands of files and it takes him longer than he expected to find your file but he does find it eventually and it’s thick. How? Why?

He shakes the train of thought, refocusing himself and, thanking whatever higher power that decided that Project files should be housed in boxes instead of folders because there was no way that he could’ve smuggled your employee folder out otherwise; it was far too thick. 

With sweat gathering on his brow and his breaths coming out heavier, Coriolanus removes the contents of your record from its folder, then opens the box and takes the equivalent of your records out, swapping the two then swiftly replacing the lid on the box and your folder back into the cabinet. 

He makes his way to the exit, calming himself the entire way; the box feels heavier in his clammy hands but he knows it's not.

Pushing down on the intercom button, another few agonizingly slow seconds pass until the same lady appears before him. 

She immediately raises an eyebrow at the box in his hands, her voice coming through the intercom, “you can’t remove the Initial Jabberjay Project files from here.”

“It's the District 12 Reserve files, not the Initial Jabberjay files,” he holds the box up, showing her the label. 

“I thought you needed the Initial Jabberjay Project files.”

“I did, but these are far more informative on the biological makeup of jabberjays," he explains, a story already fabricated. "The research undertaken for the District 12 Reserve has resulted in further developments into the jabberjay that the Initial Jabberjay Project files don't contain.”

“You still can’t remove those, you can access them on the new computer system, put them ba-”

“Please, my access doesn’t come through for another week, I’m just an intern and I need these otherwise- otherwise Dr. Gaul will…” Coriolanus trails off pathetically, swallowing thickly and leaving it to her own imagination to guess what Dr. Gaul would hypothetically do to him. 

It was all lies of course. Coriolanus was one of the first to gain access to all Project archives that had been uploaded onto the new computer system - Dr Gaul ensured it. Unfortunately, access to Employee Records was not a part of that access and well above his security clearance.  

When she doesn't budge, Coriolanus makes a show of having his expression fall, shoulders slumping dramatically as he makes to return the box-

“Fine,” she concedes. “But, you are to return them within 24 hours otherwise I will personally place you under arrest for their removal.” 

Coriolanus doesn’t listen as she clears his exit and rattles off whatever care and safety precautions he needs to take while handling the files; pulling the gloves off, he practically runs to the elevators when she finishes. Only allowing himself to breathe easier and relax entirely when he finds himself back in the safety of his home and in the comfort of his study - the sun shining high in the sky through the uncurtained window. 

Setting himself up comfortably behind his own desk, he opens the box with steady hands and removes your files.

Finally able to study them, he’s immediately taken aback by the sight of your picture staring up at him. His fingers ghost over the picture then curl in on themself; taking in your rounded face and hopeful eyes; you looked young - a child. Coriolanus’ eyebrows draw together in confusion, his fingers pressing into the centre of his palm

How long have you been in the Capitol? Working in the Citadel?

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2023. All rights reserved.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow x reader #coryo x reader #coryo snow #tom blyth

[l0v3rg1ri]

Heya! Could a request a platonic!Levi Ackerman x cadet!reader? The reader used to live in the underground and kind of finds a sort of kinship with Levi, bonding over their shared trauma- if that makes sense

Ofc, no pressure to write this! But, if you do write it, I hope you have fun with it!!

Writer note:

Hello! Thank you for requesting <3! And ofc! I would love to write this fun idea! :3 He might be abit ooc, but hopefully not so much! I made a small snip it and a headcannon area since I didn't know which one you wanted! -----------------

Tw: Mention of child trafficking

Platonic!Levi Ackerman x Cadet!Reader who comes from the under-ground "Instead of seeking people who can stop the bleeding, we're attracted to those with similar wounds, who may not know how to find a way out of the darkness, but suffice, simply because they're in the same boat as us."

Headcannon:

his first reaction to hearing a cadet being from the underground was a bit mixed. For one, the undergrounds weren't an area a child would normally be unless they were from a poor or broken family. Even in dark cases, child trafficking. Another is, he doesn't like to get into people's personal life so he just shrugs it off. I imagine him being surprised but also not that interested to just ask you about it.

If you did decide to talk to him and figure out more about him he'll turn interested about how you got to the undergrounds. He will say a thing or two of his own experience in the start of you both talking.

Once you tell him how you got there he can react multiple way. For one if you were from a poor family he'd feel connected to that since he grew up dirty and without anything. The only money and resources coming from his mother who was a prostitute.

But if you were a child being trafficked he'd feel anger rise. His mother was a prostitute and was trafficked into that lifestyle because of lack of resources. Seeing her cry and wonder what she can do and even if she could continue whilst having Levi as a young child at home while she was gone for hours. That's one hell of an image stuck in his head ever since he was a child. He couldn't imagine a young child or teenager going through that made his world crumble. He always hated children getting hurt even if he had no interest in having his own or even being around children

The more and more you both continue to talk he felt like he met someone who could relate to him besides his old friends. He grew comfort in knowing someone could relate and he wasn't the only who had these feelings.

soon he started to see you like a sibling or his child you could say. Talking to you more and checking up on you, though he never gave special treatment during training since he wanted you to grow as your own person just like him, yet he also wanted you to defend yourself enough against titans.

he starts giving you small head pats and small learning lessons he's gotten from Erwin when he was first brought into the Survey Corps. Though he changed a couple of things to make it more understanding.

If you ever gained some sort of mental health disorder then he would try his best to help. In this period of time mental health disorders wouldn't be known as much, but Levi as far as he was concern he knew these were stress signs since he had gotten PTSD from his time of serving and even his underground times. So he would spend nights with you giving you tea and calming you down even if it was just sitting in silence.

------------------------

It was night time and Levi was awake since he couldn't fall asleep for some odd reason. Sitting in his office drinking tea and just writing papers and papers. Documents he had to fill days ago and he had fallen behind. Suddenly his peace of silence was broken by a light knock at his door. He sighed as he spoke up. "come in"

The door made a small creak as it was open before letting out a loud thud as it was shut. He raised an eyebrow at who entered but soon recognized the familiar face. "Couldn't sleep again?"

"no....I keep getting those weird pauses again" you shrugged as you took a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. "mh...you want me to make that tea for you again or?" Levi asked as he looked up at you from looking at his papers. You nodded your head as he stood up and went to a small area of his office. He had his personal area to make tea since he didn't want to walk all the way down to the kitchen to make his tea. Once he was finished he settled down the cup in front of you as he sat down drinking his own tea while the sounds of rain hit against the window. "Levi...does..it ever go away?"

The question surprised him before he just sighed putting down the papers he held in his hands. "no...some may say scars will heal, but they never do. Scars can't go away no matter what you do. You can bandage them, wash them, cover them, or just ignore them. Yet they will always be there because huge scars aren't always healed up. You need to come to terms that the scar is there and always will be and the only thing you can do is understand why the scar is there." "as much as it is shitty to feel like crap you can't heal a wound, but you can learn to live with it and understand why it's there. Learn to grow and understand the world." he sighed as he stared right at you. His grey eyes looking genuine and comforting. He looked back down and then noticed the time. "how about you go to bed now? you need your strength for tomorrows training" "I want to stay just for abit.."

"be my guest then, but if you wake up tired don't blame me and I'll make sure to kick your ass if you can't function tomorrow" "I know sir" "good.."

---------------------------- I hope you enjoyed this! It was a very fun prompt and I loved writing it! :3 Hope you liked it !!

#levi x reader #levi aot #x reader #platonic #aot #comfort #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #aot fandom #levi ackerman #headcanon

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

M6 with an MC who comes out as trans?

The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC comes out as trans

~ a request near and dear to my heart, anon, let's hope I can do it justice. To all my trans brothers, sisters, and siblings, you are valid and loved and so incredibly beautiful! - brainrot ~

Julian

Worried at first that this was common knowledge and he'd missed all the cues and this is you running out of patience and correcting him

Very relieved when you explain otherwise

He'll do his best to curb his enthusiasm, but after all you've done to help him find purpose again he's throwing all the resources he has available at you with reckless abandon

Did you want surgery? A medical plan? He can do that! He's so happy to do that!

Will randomly ask questions or bring up new facts he learned about being trans in general at all hours of the day (and night)

If you know what name you want to go by, he's using it right away. He's used multiple names himself

If you don't he is absolutely the type to suggest trying on a different one a day

While you're at it, why not come up with a dramatic backstory for each one? Each one emphasizes a different trait of yours that he loves

One time a day or two after you came out, he was half-asleep and accidentally misgendered you (old habit) and he spent the next three days apologizing and trying to make it up to you

Unless you ask him not to, he will announce your preferred pronouns to every friend he has to make sure that all of your future conversations with them are comfortable

Asra

Hell yeah, let's question gender!

But first, they love you so much, and they want you to know that they'll be with you every step of the way, and however you want to express this is completely valid

There's no pressure, there's no rush, nobody knows what's best for you like you do and he's just here to watch the magic happen

That said, where do you want to start

They know some handy spells. Would you like to play with the pitch of your voice?

Sorry, he got distracted giggling at himself sounding like he inhaled too much helium

Loves hearing all the different voices you can call their name in. Lets you know that the one they find the most attractive is the one that makes your eyes light up

Will suggest all kinds of ridiculous names to make you smile and playfully reintroduce you to Faust when you decide on one

Checks in with you on how open you want to be about your gender before he uses your preferred name and pronouns in public. He wants to protect your privacy and process

Gives you full access to their wardrobe in case there's anything you want to try on (skirts? trousers? shirts? dresses? they've got it all, and a few other outlandish pieces)

He thinks everything about you is perfect, so you may have to be upfront about asking him to pay certain parts of your body attention in a different way or adjust certain compliments

Nadia

Deeply honored to be trusted with something so important to you, takes everything about it extremely seriously

Wavers between letting you talk about things at your own pace and asking questions. The more she understands, the better she can support you

Immediately clarifies your preferred pronouns and asks after a preferred name. If you've chosen one already, she'll adjust without a hitch

If you haven't, she's very happy to help you compile a list of illustrious names and their meanings

Wardrobe overhaul. She wants you to feel as comfortable in your skin as possible

Speaking of, were you hoping for any medical care? She knows of several good doctors to summon, and you know what -

- she may as well look over the current state of the healthcare system while she's at it. These are basic needs, everyone should have access to this, not just nobility

It's unnecessary but she will stare down every one of her sisters when she reintroduces you on their next visit. They're all very quick to affirm you regardless of her silent threat

Will plan a grand announcement as soon as you're okay with it, complete with the biggest celebration you're comfortable with

Is quick to figure out which traits of yours give you gender euphoria and will heap praise on them for hours

Muriel

Cool. Thanks for letting him know

Plenty of animals have different genders at different points in their lives, it makes perfect sense if you're the type of human that does that too

He can tell you're experiencing some really strong emotions right now, but being trans is so normal to him that he doesn't realize that's the reason why until a few seconds after his initial response

Panicking because now that he realizes it's a big deal to you there's a lot more he wants to say but he doesn't know where to start so here's an emotional support chicken while he thinks

Okay. He loves you. He's proud of you for taking the step to tell him. He's here for you and wants to support whatever decisions you make

Normally prefers not needing to talk a lot and letting your understanding of each other speak instead, but he'll make an exception for this

He grew up with Asra's nonchalant approach to gender, as soon as you make your pronoun and name preferences known he'll adjust with little effort

Though with how rare it is for him to refer to you in the third person, it's not a huge change

Will be present as emotional support if you wanted to tell anyone else, but you're doing the talking

Portia

Her first response? A really big, really tight hug

"I'd better be the first person to hear this news. What's the plan?"

She certainly didn't expect your announcement, but she's not surprised. You're a cool, attractive magician, this seems par for the course

Obstacles do not exist when Portia's beloved suggests a new adventure. Gender dysphoria quakes at her name

And yes, this is an adventure! Adventures are all about discovering yourself and taking hold of your future, this definitely falls under that category

Takes full advantage of her networking skills to find the best specialists to give you different options

Speaking of networking, she may or may not start a mental list of all the other trans and gender-nonconforming people she knows in the palace

She will also not-so-subtly try getting you to hang out with them. Communities are great places to find support systems for growth!

It's okay if you feel weird about initiating it, she has no such qualms and will happily invite 20+ people over for a big, queer barbeque

Like her brother, if you're still playing around with different names she'll introduce you as different ones on different ambassador trips. The sailors think it's awesome

Lucio

You're a super cool magic user, are you announcing this because you're about to shapeshift??

Completely chill once you explain that no, you're a trans person just like all the other trans people, you're just letting him know because you hadn't told him before

Does his best to listen to everything you have to say but he'll be side eyeing you for the rest of the day just in case you suddenly build a chrysalis and disappear into it for a couple of weeks

He switched his own name from Montag to Lucio because it suited him better, he will be aggressively supportive of your name and pronoun decisions

Doesn't tiptoe around the subject at all, asks so many questions about your identity and how it works for you and how you plan on expressing it

(extravagantly, he hopes, but whatever works for you is fine)

But are you sure you can't use magic? At all? Because while you're on the subject, he wouldn't mind a few extra pounds of muscle himself ... kidding, he's kidding!

You have to be careful when you pass back through places you've been to before because he will fight anyone who misgenders or deadnames you before you have the chance to update them

Thinks announcing pronouns after your name sounds really cool so he starts doing it too

(In case you'd enjoy HCs where MC is already out & in an established relationship with M6, might I suggest M6 with an MC with gender dysphoria?)

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[fuckzachariah]

xvi. hell is where i dreamt of u and woke up alone ; @aleburton

When Zach came to two days later, the world was too loud before he'd even opened his eyes to face it. The pain was unbelievable. His head pounded, he was so dehydrated his organs felt shrunken, and there wasn't a spot on his body he could feel that didn't scream at him. There was beeping, shuffling feet, flipping papers and idle chatter, the light searing through his thin lids overhead. His heart dropped; he remembered it all at once. Or, at least, what he'd been awake for. He hoped Alex had blacked out the same moment he had, he prayed to a God he didn't have that she wasn't hurt. He shot bolt upright, eyes flying open, a tube popping from a vein somewhere. "Zach! Jesus, fuck-" Ryan flew across the room to him, pressing a button on the way to call a nurse. "Alex-" he croaked, panic swelling in him. "She's okay. She's alive, anyway." Zach's eyes filled with tears, the gravity of it all coming crushing down on him so suddenly it felt like a heart attack. Alex leaving, his mom, the baby, Zach almost killing them both for it all. "What the fuck," he rasped helplessly, his head falling into his hands. His body shook with the anguish. "What the fuck." Ryan had never seen him break like this before. He wrapped his slumped form into an embrace and held him in silence as he sobbed until the nurse came in.

He was held in the hospital for weeks. He needed surgery on his skull fracture, internal injuries and spinal cord damage. His whiplash, concussion and broken ribs could only be healed with time. When he was awake between high doses of pain killers and anaesthetics, he remained almost religiously silent, inverting in on himself in a way he hadn't previously considered possible. He could think of a million ways to kill himself, and took comfort in them constantly, but he knew he couldn't act on them. Even if Alex never spoke to him again, she didn't deserve that. And what was his life for now if not ensuring he never caused her pain again after all the pain it was too late to take back? And then there was the kid. When he wasn't fantasizing about his own violent end, he thought of the unborn child and what he could possibly fucking do to save it. The rest of the time, he just wished he was high. The opioids helped.

Kylie saw the news about his crash and insisted on coming to see him, even after he begged her not to. Even after the begging got mean. She cried in silence and held his hand while he barely kept his eyes open through the drug-haze, muttering into his knuckles that she wished she'd said anything else but what she did. If he was conscious enough, he'd tell her it didn't matter what she said. She could've come to the house and used her body as a barrier, but he still would've done what he was going to do. If she was going to be around, this was the first lesson she had to learn. Zach would do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, even when he pleaded with himself to take someone else's advice for once. He would always do the wrong thing no matter who had to pay for it. No matter what the price was. But he wasn't conscious enough to utter a single intelligible word. She would have to learn the hard way.

Because Alex wouldn't talk to him, he tried to needle Eden for wellness checks on her. The guilt was like nothing else in the world. It crushed him until he could throw up from the pressure. He'd never felt so much like he'd died without dying. All he could do was count down the days until his body worked well enough that he could leave and destroy it all over again. Mania spiked. He'd kill himself one way or another, intentional or not. One of the worst, the hardest, things to face had been Amanda. She wasn't angry like Peter, wasn't disgusted like his mother. She was heartbroken. She cried and held his hands and spoke to him in a low voice, and he was so fucking sick of seeing people cry and holding their hands when he'd been the one to fuck them up. The guilt. The guilt was just incredible.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As it turned out, his old tricks worked a treat. Kind of. Zach was only certain this time that he was heading towards an end: his body would shut down of its own accord, unable to persist through all he forced it to endure any longer. It would, one day, simply refuse. And that would be that - he would be blameless in the crime of his death. In the meantime, he put on a good show. Non-sobriety was his new normal, his old normal. He couldn't be conscious for more than a few minutes without itching for something to snatch it all away, and he was conscious most of the time, sleep evading him like a game of cat and mouse. He sank back into Aubrey's bed and only ever hung out with Luke and Sarah, ignoring anything good; his revived career, his something-or-other with Kylie, his relationship with Amanda. Even Ryan was neglected. If he was lucky, death would bite him before the kid was born, and he wouldn't be around to feel the guilt of it at all.

The clubs were as good as home. They all blurred into one; he rarely left them. Only to shower, change, then go back out again. Zach was flat out against a club wall, the paper sweating with condensation and bleeding through his shirt, Aubrey's tending to the beads of sweat forming on his neck with her tongue. She always waited, waited, until he was fucked up enough to let her back in; she'd once been an advocate for his recovery, but once she saw the crack in the surface she could filter in through, she pried it open two-fisted. He groaned, the sensation pleasant but dull behind the charge of all the drugs and the predictability. He could be on any number of pills and powders, accepting most that was given to him and never sobering up from the night before. Once he'd grown bored, he took her by the throat and pried her away, eyes scanning over her shoulder for Luke and Sarah. He found them, leading Aubrey over. Tasha came up behind them, slick and hazy-eyed from her own rendezvous elsewhere.

They came into one on the dance floor. He liked the dance floor. The music too loud, free to move and have others move against him and not say or be obligated to do a fucking thing. His head fell back, face at the mercy of the neon lights, hands on the slight waist of someone. He forgot who. But when he looked down, he was sort of tickled to see Sarah, her own head lolling back against his chest, mouth popped open, her hips swilling in time with his. He'd never really considered her like this; compromised, uninhibited, someone who might cheat on her boyfriend with him. Once, Sarah would've been entirely off-limits to him. Now, he didn't really give a fuck. He leaned down, into her ear. "This is new," he muttered, his voice shot from all the powder in his throat. She smiled lazily, not opening her eyes. "Fuck Luke," she answered, resolute. It surprised him. She'd endured so much bullshit over the years - what was the end of her tether? Her gaze wandered and his followed, and in a darkened booth, Tasha and Aubrey sat either side of Luke, legs hooked over both his thighs, tongues disappearing up behind his respective ears. Zach's eyebrows jumped.

"Fuck Luke," he agreed heartily. It was flagrant and disrespectful in a way Luke had always avoided when hurting Sarah in the past. Luke had thrown himself into Zach's self-destruction with wholehearted enthusiasm; if the superstar could fall from grace, he could too. He was always looking for an excuse to do something fucked up, to ruin everything, and Zach had seemingly given him the green light. A flash of an opportunity presented itself to Zach; something bad enough that it could make him feel alive for more than a few seconds. So he touched Sarah in a way he was sure she'd never been touched before. His hand over her stomach, hips, waist, pressing down and following a pattern he'd learned on a girl he couldn't even think the name of without wanting to throw up. His other wreathed her lithe throat until she spun on the spot on her pin-heels to face him, and her head tipped back to find his eyes. "Fuck Luke," she mumbled again, Zach's thumb already finding its way into her mouth as his thigh slotted between hers and pushed. She whined at the friction. "Whatever you say, baby."

Then something caught his eye. Through the sea of bodies, for just a split second, he was absolutely positive of what he saw. The girl from the night of the crash, almost a foot above the other girls; her sharp, slender eyes and permanently rude mouth scanning the room. He wasn't prepared to sacrifice the promise of fucking Sarah just yet; the moral disaster promised to be too sweet, too good of a distraction from the rest of his guilt. So he didn't abandon her. "Hang on," he murmured, leading her to the edge of the dance floor. He couldn't fucking believe it. Luke, Aubrey and Tasha stood talking to the two of them; the girl and Alex. Alive, no visible injuries, so fucking devastating he wished he'd died that night so he didn't have to see her, now. "Oh, fucking hell," Sarah said. "Absolutely, fucking hell," Zach reiterated.

#para

[lady-byleth]

*shows up 20 years late with Starbucks*

So I feel like Neji gets way too much shit for his fight with Hinata during the Chunin exams

Was he a dick? Absolutely. Was he also not nearly as bad as people made it out? Also yes.

Allow me to explain

For one, yeah his verbal abuse of her is out of line and cruel. But it also serves a purpose, namely to try and scare her into giving up the fight early. He tells her multiple times to forfeit, before and even during the fight. He plays on her insecurities to pressure her into it because she has absolutely no chance against him

He also never strikes first. He waits for Hinata to make the first move several times, stays on the defensive constantly. So much so the others actually thinks she's got him on the back foot for a while. He counters her and blocks her tenketsu while he's at it.

He doesn't actually go for damage until that one strike that should have by rights taken her out of commission right then and there. But when she doesn't stop and gets back up, he actually looks horrified because she's injured, can't channel chakra, she's clearly defeated

...and then Neji too stops using chakra all together.

The whole fight it's made clear to us when chakra is involved in attacks, because the Gentle Fist relies on it, but after he blocks Hinata's tenketsu this stops completely. He doesn't go for her chest again until the very end, which is also the first time he uses chakra after stopping hers. He's losing his cool and he's trying to get her to stay down so the blow is stronger than it needs to be, but Hinata isn't exactly aiming for anything less lethal either. He matches her blow for blow, goes along with her movements, aims for the same places she does. He's just better than her so he actually does do damage.

And he could've taken her down fast and brutal if he'd wanted to. Kakashi is, pun intended, thunderstruck by Neji's level of skill. He acknowledges point blank that Sasuke wouldn't have a chance against Neji. Gaara is stimulated by that fight.

Hell, the kid makes Jonin at 15 and he has already reverse engineered some of the most advanced Hyuuga jutsu by 13 without anyone actually training him in them

He could end this fight in seconds, if he actually wanted to hurt Hinata. He doesn't. He wants her to walk away.

Hayate also tells the kids straight up that he will intervene when he thinks a fight is over cuz he doesn't want more corpses than necessary...but he let's it go on. It's not until Neji loses his cool completely that anyone actually steps in and then they have multiple Jonin rushing in to stop him cuz of how fucking dangerous Neji actually is

Also Hinata, despite her clear fear of facing him as an opponent, is still fond enough of him to call him brother. So despite the grudge Neji has against the main house and, by extension, Hinata, their relationship is still cordial enough

My conclusion is simple: Neji doesn't actually want to hurt her but he knows he can't guarantee that he won't so he wants her to quit before he does. And she just...doesn't back down and then turns the mind games back on him the whole fight. Unintentionally but the effect is the same. But her pointing out that he's hurting more than her...For a traumatized 13 year old always 2 seconds away from snapping, that's a tough pill to swallow. So he loses it and goes for her to shut her up...despite actually urging her to stop so she doesn't die just seconds before

He's definitely taking some shit out on her before that but he's not going into this fight to physically hurt her beyond reason. But his superior chakra control and frankly ridiculously good Byakugan give him an edge she can't overcome.

And Hinata had already lost by the time he got that first real blow in on her. A big part of why she ended up as badly as she did was because she refused to stop when she should have known she couldn't go on, Hayate and the Jonin stopped the fight too late and her tenacity slowly ate away at Neji's restraint

What I'm saying is basically that this is a shit situation from start to finish and no one deserves a warm handshake over anything that happens there. But Neji isn't nearly as bad as he's made out to be. Even provoking Naruto and Kurenai later on is cuz he's still riled up himself...but he does watch her being carried away the whole time too...

#neji hyuga #hyuga neji #hinata hyuga #hyuga hinata #naruto

[hiding-in-my-blanket-fort]

Demisexual!Jake Seresin x Reader headcanons

Saw this post where people were being little piss babies that Jake Seresin can't possibly be aspec. So *cracks knuckles* since people can't seem to stay in their own fucking lane, I'm gonna be That Bitch and write some aggressively positive demisexual headcanons for our favorite flyboy.

(Tagging my aspec!Jake partner in crime: @gonnabreakhisheart)

Jake is an outrageous flirt. But he doesn't mean 99% of the things that come out of his mouth. He's just blowing smoke and hot air, talking smack.

When someone flirts back, he cranks it up to 110%. But when it comes time to follow through, oh hell no, Jake aborts so fast and hightails it out of there.

Despite what other people accuse him of, Jake has had only two one night stands, and no one ever believes him when he says that so he stopped trying to convince them.

The first time, he was young and reckless, running on the adrenaline high of getting into flight school. His classmates pressured him into it, too, insisting that he was a man now and he needed to prove himself.

It was not a good night and the girl left him in the morning without saying anything, which made him feel like shit.

The second time, Jake had watched one of his pilot buddies die in flight training and it messed him up really bad. He had no one to lean on because he'd learned not to show emotion in the military.

So he ended up at a bar, trying to drown his feelings, and somehow found himself deep in conversation with this woman. She'd lost her boyfriend in a car accident a year ago so she understood what it was like to deal with grief.

They spent most of the night talking and finding comfort in each other.

But they both agreed to part ways in the morning. They still text occasionally and check in on each other now and then.

Jake's reputation as a playboy is purely hearsay and mostly fueled by the jealousy and insecurity of other men. But he gave up trying to deny the rumors a long time ago. His protests seemed to only dig his grave deeper.

So in true Hangman fashion, Jake uses his reputation as a shield. Only the people who will truly stick around for the long haul get a glimpse underneath his armor.

Jake actually takes FOREVER before he decides that he likes you. Being a pilot demands a lot of his time which he knows can be very taxing on a relationship and he's upfront about that right from the start.

He's had a lot of people come and go in his life, and he's careful about getting emotionally invested too early.

You and Jake were friends for years, and he was fiercely protective of you.

Trying to get a guy's number at a bar? GOOD LUCK Jake is gonna be hovering at your shoulder, poking his nose into your business and making sure your potential date knew that you had a curfew, home by 10pm. Or else.

You relentlessly dropped hints that HE could ask you out, which you'd been hoping might happen for...an embarrassingly long time. But he never got the hint.

So YOU finally ask him out, which he tries to laugh off with a joke because you can't possibly be serious. Until he realizes you're not kidding and he finds that it's surprisingly easy to say yes to you.

At the beginning of the relationship, Jake doesn't know what to do with himself. He's on the verge of bolting because this is too good to be true.

About the six month mark, Jake settles down and he starts looking at you in a new light. You fell asleep on his couch, comfortable and safe in his presence while watching television and something in his heart tugs.

In the morning, when he sees you in the kitchen with your messy bedhead as you poured yourself some cereal, wearing the oversized pajamas you'd borrowed from him last night...oh my god, that's the hot button. That's when Jake realizes he found something truly special and he's going to fight for it.

He gets a dog tag engraved with your name and wears it all the time alongside his military dog tags.

He has a picture of you in the cockpit of his airplane. Before every flight, he kisses his fingertips and touches the picture as a good luck charm so he makes sure that he comes home to you.

Honestly, instead of sex, Jake prefers weird 3am chats with you where he can make you laugh until you're gasping for breath.

Jake loves taking a bath with you, especially when you slip into the tub behind him and wash his hair. The first time you did it, he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. No one had ever done that for him before.

He has zero ability to stay mad with you after a fight. He leaves to cool off and then comes back with this kicked puppy-dog look on his face. He takes your hand, kisses your knuckles.

"I hate fighting with you, baby," he whispers.

"Well, if you would just admit I'm right, we wouldn't have to fight."

He can tell you're teasing and you end up hugging each other really hard for several long minutes because you both know just how lucky you are and you don't want a stupid fight to come between you.

Sexy headcanons below the cut (18+ only)

Jake actually doesn't like quickies. They're never satisfying and they're always over too fast.

Cuddlefucking drives him batshit crazy. There's something about how time seems to slow down with the lazy touches, sleep-warm skin, the kisses that feel more like a dream than a reality.

He's actually very worried about hurting you. He's heard some terrible stories from guys in the military who clearly don't like their girlfriends, and he would never dream of treating you like that.

So if you want something more intense, Jake will require an in-depth conversation with clear guidelines and a lot of reassurance that this is what you want.

For that reason, Jake is very uncomfortable with hate sex. It doesn't make any sense to him. He doesn't hate you and he doesn't want to bring that vibe into your relationship.

Jake really looks forward to aftercare. He takes note of everything you liked for future reference.

He loves to absolutely worship your body. Massaging that kink out of your shoulder. Stroking the washcloth over your chest and back in the shower. Propping your leg in his lap as he rubs lotion into your skin.

Jake doesn't care how much shit people give him for saying it but he LOVES missionary. He wants to look you in the eyes. He wants to guide your leg around his hips. It's a classic for a reason.

One time, the two of you decided to get adventurous and try a new position. It was complicated as hell and you fumbled around so much that you ended up collapsed together, Jake's face beet red from laughing so hard.

You didn't actually have sex that night. But you fell asleep in each other's arms without a stitch of clothing between you, and then you had leftover pizza for breakfast, which felt just as good.

Jake is a MONSTER when it comes to non-sexual intimacy. He soaks up every drop like a dying man in the desert.

Sitting on the couch watching tv? He's going to tuck his head into your lap and coax your fingers into his hair.

Brushing your teeth? He'll slide his arms around you from behind and nuzzle into your neck.

Out to dinner with his buddies? He has a hand resting on your thigh.

When you're walking side by side, if you don't hold his hand, Jake will take your hand and tuck it into the crook of his elbow. Every single time. And he gives you this look like, this is your spot, don't you know that by now???

When it's cold, he wraps his hand around yours and tucks it into his coat pocket to keep you both warm.

Masterlist

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin imagines #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #writing tag

[hapan-in-exile]

Volume 1 - Bonus Post: I know you think about me in the shower

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

A/N: this is a bonus post from Mando's POV

This episode takes place directly after the events of Volume 1: Post 3: Thrilling Tales of Emergency Medicine.

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, 18+ *NSFW*

_____________________________________

Reader prompt from @hotnmad:

“I didn’t see anything! But your thoughts are…very loud.” “How do you—right," he nods. "No helmet in the fresher.” EEEEEEKKKKKK I WANNAAAAA KNOWWWW I WANT THAT FLASHBACK. PLEASE. LET ME SEE WHAT HE THINKS ABOUT IN THE FRESHER IM BEGGING 😭😭😭

Gods, help me, pleaded the Mandalorian. I’m in trouble.

He desperately rubbed at his temples like the kinetic energy might stir something loose in his brain. I’m in so much fucking trouble. 

He’d made it four months of her living onboard without making a fool of himself. This was, in large part, because he had decided speaking with her was far too much of a liability. It’d only be a matter of time before he blurted out something awkward about how flexible she is (you can really get that leg up there) or offered her a shoulder rub (all those handstands must make your muscles tense)... 

But he couldn’t say something stupid if he kept his mouth shut. 

Now, he could not for the life of him remember exactly what, if anything, he had said to her under a haze of Bacta and painkillers.

Which is why he usually grit his teeth and worked through the pain without meds. Because that shit dissolved every ounce of self-control he possessed. Whatever impulse he felt, he chased. Whatever he wanted, he took.

And he wanted her. 

He was pretty sure that he'd grabbed her.

The sedatives in the Bacta meant his blood pressure was probably too thin to get a hard-on, but he couldn’t be sure.

What he did remember was the feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest. Hell, he’d squeezed her so tightly that one of her nipples had actually popped out over the top of her neckline. That would be hard to forget. 

He also remembered her arms wrapped around him. The way she fit perfectly tucked against him. She hadn’t pulled away. 

But he shouldn’t read anything into that. She was being nice because that was her nature. It’s the same comfort she would extend to anyone who almost died in her arms. He’d awoken with one of her pillows propped under his neck and a wool blanket wrapped around him. A tender kindness for someone who had thanked her for saving his life by grabbing at her like some lecherous drunk.

She’s kind to everyone, he reminded himself. She has this immeasurable patience that he couldn’t fathom.

A vision of wet cloth clinging to the generous curves of her breasts teased at him. They were ample, probably more than a handful.

Fucking farrik, you gotta stop thinking about her tits!

Thulani was sweet, but she wasn’t innocent. He liked that about her, too.

She had this self-awareness about the lushness of her body. She knew it influenced the way people perceived her and how they treated her. The Mandalorian had some inkling of what that must be like—he was a walking fetish for a lot of people, after all—so he found it pretty impressive when she used her sexuality to intimidate someone.   

She tried it on him sometimes.

Thank the gods, she couldn’t see his reaction under the helmet. But he did feel guilty about her confusion whenever she couldn’t read his response to her flirting.

Not that he’d try to stop her. Every hand she placed on his arm, every coy smile she flashed him, every time she walked around in her tiny shorts that were basically underwear—he enjoyed safely from beneath the view plate.

She liked to flirt with everyone. With the station agent, the merchant selling dumplings, standing in line at the bar. She was just like that. Like starlight. Everywhere she turned to cast her gaze brightened. She invited anyone and everyone to share in its warmth.

And damnit, she’d been so warm. Her round ass braced against his thigh, the thick curve of her hips pressed into his stomach. Her tits.

The Mandalorian thought back to the first time he'd seen her, crossing each other on the staircase in the lobby of Ingtar's casino. She was climbing them confidently in her ridiculously tall heels. Lifting her face to the ceiling, her body arched, breasts thrust upward like an offering to the gods.

He would probably die, and his last thoughts would be about her tits. They were full and soft but also firm. She could probably smother him between her perfect breasts, and he would die happy. 

Shit, his cock was so hard it ached. He lightly palmed it through the thick canvas of his flight suit. But he was too full, in urgent need of release. There was nothing else for it.

The Mandalorian tossed the pillow and blanket back onto her bedroll and limped toward the fresher. The stitches stung, yet the sharp pain was not enough to dull his desire. He could lock himself inside the holding cell and claim he wanted privacy, except that she would most likely hear and guess what he was doing in there. The noise from the running water and the air vent would obscure the sound of his grunts and heavy breathing.

It felt shameful to jerk off in the shower while she sat about a foot directly above him. She was a woman under his protection, and he’d already crossed some inviolable boundaries by forcing her into his lap. Last time he needed the release, he'd left the ship and rented a room in town...? 

We’re already strapped for cash.

Right. He’d just have to take care of this quickly and do penance for it later. 

By the time he stripped naked and closed himself inside the fresher, his body was trembling. His blood roared in his ears. Had he ever felt this hard before? Was it some side effect of the Bacta? Or was it simply a measure of how much he wanted her?

He reached between his legs to grip the length of his cock and squeezed. 

"Um, Mando—" She shouted from the other side of the stall door. "I know this is super intrusive, but I need to remind you that you can't get your stitches wet. You should rub—wash! Wash yourself with a cloth."

He froze. His hand had been sweeping up and down the expanse of his shaft. There was no way he could respond. His breath was already harsh and uneven.

“There’s a sponge in my shower caddy you can use if you need to…” she offered. “I’m…I’m gonna go back up to the cockpit. We’ll just—ah, wait for you up there.”

Fuck. He stood there for a moment with the head of his cock under his thumb. 

Her sponge? He saw it tucked into the container that hung from the shower head. A real, organic sponge. Large and plush. Like her tits. Looking at it made him laugh. Not even running for her life could curb this woman’s taste for luxury. 

She luxuriated in everything. And he liked that, too. She savored things. 

He remembered growing half a stalk just hearing her moan while she stuffed her mouth full of custard buns.

Her mouth, thought the Mandalorian as his dick throbbed in his hand.

He thought about her mouth a lot, too. 

Right. Let’s be done with this.

He grabbed the sponge. It was still slick with her soap. Something that smelt like flowers and crisp citrus. He wrapped it around his cock and imagined the hot, sticky sheath of her cunt as he entered her.

No—nnngh, he groaned.

Her tits. Instead, he imagined her kneeling between his thighs and thrusting himself between her breasts as she squeezed them together, sliding them up and down his swollen shaft—anngh, unngh. 

And her mouth. She would tuck her chin down to slide those full lips over the head of his cock, lapping at the beads of come she drew from him.

Mmmf—his hand stroked the full length of his erection, no longer languid pulls now, but quickly.  

His chest heaved with each panting breath.

Haa! He jerked faster. Haa! Faster, faster. Haa, aah! He was so close.

He groaned again as the pace of his frantic rhythm increased.

Knowing Thuli, she would probably look him directly in the eyes the whole time she had his cock in her mouth—nnngh!

He pumped relentlessly until, finally, he cried out. He shuddered as each spasm tensed every muscle in his body, his come spurting again and again.

Ungh! Haa, aah, ahh!

All over her sponge. 

Fuck!

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

Back to Volume 1 - All posts

#mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mando smut #sexy mando #mando x reader #sexymando #mando x you #din darjin smut #the mandalorian smut #din dijarin x reader #star wars smut #mando fanfiction #mandalorian smut #mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian

[parachutingkitten]

Forgive me for like yapping at you for a while this is gonna be a long one, and I totally get if you don't respond to this at all and just delete it from your inbox it's just something that has been bothering me sooo much

And before I start I want to clarify this is not hate! I'm just intending to like. Discuss yk?

So in your video analysis of female characters in ninjago I was quite excited to get to the bit about Harumi because she's a really interesting character and absolutely one of my favorites. But when I did it was like you missed every major aspect of her character and motivations and it was especially disappointing because like. The video was worded to accomodate new/non-fans who don't know about these characters! And it's disheartening when a character is completely misunderstood especially in a video where the point is to explain these characters and how they are often misunderstood or poorly represented by the writers

I think you were really hung up on the idea that Harumi had any good motivations for what she was doing which is just. Not true. Harumi never wanted to help people who had similar situations to her. The whole point of her character is that she's held onto her anger and hatred to the point it's all that drives her, which is what makes her death so impactful- It's the moment she sees the error of her ways and the fact that she's only perpetrated the same cycle that hurt her.

You brought up the fact that it didn't make sense for her feeding the poor to be an act. But it does if you think about the rest of the context of the scene. I know it's easy to miss things when you're trying to get all the information together for a video like that so I totally don't blame you for this one, but Lloyd brings up the fact that her room seemed ransacked and her window was blown open. The intent there on Harumi's part was to get him to follow her so he'd see her doing something "good" that'd throw him off her trail. This is something she does OFTEN. Like when the ninja are discussing who the quiet one could be or when Lloyd is shocked by her ability to throw the machete.

Harumi, in the oni trilogy at least is consistent with her motives. They screwed her up real bad in crystalized, but in the Oni trilogy the point of her character was that her worldview was fucked up and she didn't care who she hurt until she realized that she was being no better than the people who hurt her.

I think since there is such a drastic tonal shift when we get to the Oni trilogy, you were probably unintentionally looking at it through the same lense as the rest of the series where the themes and such are very surface-level and spelled out easily so again I don't like hate you for not understanding her motives or hell even falling for the manipulation tactics she employed that the viewer was supposed to look a little more into but I needed to like ramble about it SORRY this ended up much longer than I intended ^^; don't feel pressured to respond or anything

OoOOOooo! I usually answer my asks in order, but this one is real tempting right now, so I absolutely will respond. And before we get into everything, I want to extend you the same exact courtesy you did me. I'm just here to discuss. Absolutely zero hard feelings or hate.

First off, I think that is a great, and perfectly valid interpretation. Have fun with it. It's certainly a little more cohesive than what I got out of the season. I do, however, think you underestimate how much thought went into my video. As a bit of behind the scenes, Harumi was absolutely the piece of the script I was most paranoid about missing something for, because I don't have the same love for the character as most of the fandom, so I was thinking about her characterization a lot. Unfortunately, I have in fact considered all the pieces you have presented here. I just don't think those pieces actually fit together so neatly as presented in the show.

Specifically, I think it's very clear that we are supposed to have some amount of agreement with/sympathy for Harumi. Her backstory in flashback is supposed to be very heart wrenching. We see her child self go numb at the end, not angry, it's not trying to show us the start to a hardening progression, it's showing us harumi, currently angry at what happened to the little girl she used to be. If she were supposed to be a pure evil villain like Aspheera who's just evil because she is, whose justifications don't really line up, they would not have tried so hard to make us cry about her past. The backstory is structured so that it seems to give her a proper motive. She outright states her motive in her villain reveal monologue. If the point was to highlight how far from those original motivations she has strayed, it should have, I don't know, been highlighted in narrative? Have people bring it up? Have people try and appeal to her supposed motivation, have it not work, and then realize how far she's gone?

Harumi going to feed the poor was a move to throw Lloyd off the scent? What kind of 4d chess is she playing? She's got to assume lloyd will come look for her after happening to see a trashed room in a very narrow timeframe, follow her, and then talk with her while feeding children, all so that he... trusts her? After he already very clearly trusts her? All the other examples you bring up are harumi misdirecting attention after they start to catch on to her with minimal logistical effort. This is not that. Feeding the poor would be an insane preventative measure to take with a ton of extra complicated steps, that ultimately doesn't even gain her any new advantages. At that point, it's just bad writing. And if this was supposed to be an example of how she's betraying the motives she claims to be fighting for, again, it should have been highlighted in the narrative. As we have it, it's only brought up as an example of how manipulable the ninja are, not how far she's strayed from her purpose.

Now, is what your trying to say here what they intended to portray? Very likely. That's what the best written version of this character looks like. It's the only way her arc in the oni trilogy makes sense. Which, I do praise once I get to my season 9 bit. I talk about the cycle of hurt, and how good her death is, on multiple levels, and I end with an overall positive outlook on the character as flawed but ultimately impactful until we get to crystalized. But again, that is not what actually got portrayed to us in season 8. Do not give the writers credit for dots that you were able to shuffle around into making sense. I think I make it pretty clear that I understand Harumi isn't supposed to have a reasonable motive in the review. My confusion is at the narrative dissonance this reveal has when we get to it, because of the hints that tell the audience to relate to Harumi as a villain. The backstory, the attempt at a logical motive, and the girl boss feminism twist all point us in the direction of there being something she's actually fighting for. I think they did a bad job at portraying the ideas they wanted to get across, and my goal in the review is to highlight where those dissonances are, because the writing on her character to portray these ideas wasn't done correctly.

That, on top of the basic factual timeline errors in her backstory and logistics around her plan just push my perspective over the edge for me. I wasn't blind to the points your making here, I was intentionally de-emphasizing them to bring attention to the poor writing that tried to show us those elements. My thesis is that harumi was underthought, and I stand by that thesis. I have yet to come across an argument that has convinced me otherwise, though I don't discount that there may yet be one out there.

But even if you do read my analysis as a shallow first time viewer's perspective on things(which again, I assure you it isn't), if the point the writers were trying to get across doesn't translate to a first time viewer, isn't that a problem?

If it makes you feel any better though, one of the top comments under the video is a thread of people trying to explain their interpretations of how harumi's character makes sense, so there is discussion being had about this stuff.

#long post #holy cow #we both be yappin #it's great #asks #thanks anon! #harumi #harumi critical #parachuterants #ns8 #sons of garmadon #ninjago

[passivenovember]

You know what? 

Necromancy for Dummies, Harringrove Week Day Two!

--

So, yeah.

It had been ten years since his last real relationship. A decade since Nancy Wheeler dumped him at Tina's Halloween party and Steve had heard opinions from everyone in his life about his refusal to move on.

Dustin thought there was no time limit on heartbreak. Told Steve he shouldn't be ashamed of taking time for himself, of taking a breather to work through his abandonment issues.

It made Steve feel good to have it reaffirmed, like he was getting a gold star for standard participation.

Robin, on the other hand, was of the belief that Steve should fuck anything with a pulse. Given that the thing could consent. She preached constantly about the therapy of the blowjob (both giving and receiving) and Steve thought it was a little odd for a lesbian to condone pegging like that but who was he to judge?

At least she was supportive, if a little brash, but he'd rather hear it from her than his Nonna, anyway. .

Dustin always rolled his eyes and repeated, insistently; that Steve should do what made him feel comfortable, not adhere to peer pressure or goading at the hands of a certain crowd favorite lesbian, and for a decade Steve had agreed.

It was his life. His lack of love, his mental breakdown, and Steve would experience it any way he saw fit.

Dustin was ecstatic. Told Steve he was proud of him--inspired, even, that sex and relationships weren't the hottest topic on his mind, but.

Dustin couldn't have been more wrong.

Steve thought about love constantly. Thought about holding hands and baking cookies on rainy Saturday mornings with someone who saw beyond what Steve presented to the world, and as the weeks turned into months that turned into years, it became impossible to ignore the aching in his chest to be completed.

He was good at hiding it. The want. The need for connection.

And sure, it was a primitive construct that everyone needed someone. Sure, it wasn't an actual necessity and Steve knew his worth as an individual wasn't defined by his access to a romantic partner and yada-yada-ya, but.

Then Nancy and Jonathan got Married.

And Dustin got Married.

And Mike and El moved in together.

And everyone was moving forward with their lives, even his Nonna, who had started dating new men every Saturday night after the death of his grandpappy Ralph.

And, maybe, Steve started to feel like a loser.

Just a little.

Like he was defective and unloveable and he tried not to mope his way through life, as a rule.

At least he still had Robin--the last single girls, the two of them.

But then, two weeks before Halloween, Robin got engaged and Steve didn't know what to do.

--

“You know that weird little friend of yours is getting married.”

”I know, Nonna.”

”The lesbian.” Which. Steve didn’t know why she kept calling Robin that. As if the two of them weren’t thick as thieves, best friends who played bag gammon together and smoked pot to quell Nonna's rising blood pressure. “And I don’t hold anything against the homosexuals, Stevie—“

”I know.”

She kept right on talking. Swallowing smoke, cough rattling the receiver against Steve’s head. “Hell, even I had my adventures back in the day.”

And. Yeah, Steve pushed his food to the side, suddenly overcome with queasiness.

“Did I ever tell you about Margot?” She asked. He could feel a story coming on.

”Nonna, I really don’t—“

”Breast’s like candy apples, for Christ-sake--"

"Please stop." He begged. Steve could barely handle the stories about grandpappy Ralph. 

"Alright Stevie, I get it. Once a woman turns fifty she stops being human. You know, for a witch you have incredibly narrow views of sexuality." Nonna leaned away from the phone, the tiny plastic tops of her hair rollers rattling when she yelled at Bride, her asshole cat.

Steve bristled. "I don't have--"

"You're kind of a prude, honey bunch." She was mostly kidding. Steve had spent the majority of his childhood learning the difference and he could tell that Nonna was grinning, somewhere on the other end of the line. "I blame your father." She said.

And they always did. He was mortal, practically puritan by the way he ruled over Steve's childhood with an iron fist.

"Can we talk about something else?"

"What, like how Robin is worried about you?"

Steve nearly dropped the mug in his hand. "You talk about me?"

"Of course we do." 

He was mortified. Nonna didn't seem to notice, chuckling as she poked and prodded. "What else would we talk about? Besides candy apple breasts, of course."

"Oh my god, Just." Steve groaned, burying his head in his hands. "Stop it. I swear to God I'm gonna--"

"God?" She chuckled again, that raspy smoker's laugh reaching through the phone to pull a smile out from Steve's chest. "Honey, if God were real don't you think he'd take pity on the desperate?"

He opened his mouth to argue--

And then closed it again because she was right. As usual. 

Steve was, well and truly, desperate in every sense of the word. He sighed and got up from the couch to pour himself another cup of coffee, his third for the night--sleep was out of the question.

Nonna took his silence as an opportunity to clear the air. "Robin also said you're her best man."

"Mediocre is more accurate, I dunno about Best--"

"And you know it's tradition for the best man to have a date, right Stevie?" Nonna paused, clearly trying to gauge his reaction. "It's bad luck for him not to."

Steve snorted. "You definitely just made that up. Right now. On the phone." He could practically see the swipe of her manicured hand in his minds eye.

Could feel her taking a swig of gin, blotting her mouth with a napkin as she said, "Details. The point is, honey bunch--the homosexuals are getting married. Hell, Nancy's been married for three years to that patient stoner boy." The distant flick of a lighter filtered through the receiver. "What was his name again?"

"Jonathan," Steve said around a slice of pizza.

"Yup, that's the one. And even that scrawny kid with the law degree--"

"Mike," He scrubbed a hand across his face. Nonna tried to remember the names, but. In her words: there were too many fuckers to take seriously.

She snapped her fingers at the realization. Smug little shit.

"Uh-huh, even Harvard has a live in partner. Point is: they can get married. All of them in their nerdy, scrawny, pale faced glory. And if they can somehow find love, why can't you?"

Steve felt his checks go pink with embarrassment. Here he was, gobbling pizza in his living room though no one was around to see it, and.

There were about a trillion and one answers to that question.

Why can’t you.

As a rule, Steve tried not to mope his way through life. That's not to say that there weren't things to complain about--Steve kept an itemized list in his sock drawer, for Christ’s-sake, and liked to pull it out for a refresher when things were moving a little too well.

He was so uncool. The absolute lamest, whenever shit got hopeful.

For starters, he was twenty eight and still afraid of the dark. Call it the result of phantom trauma, call it good sense--he had to use the tiny flashlight on his phone when moving about his house after the sun fell from the sky.

Setting appointments over the phone was his worst night mare. He let the trash get smelly before taking it out to the bin and spiders took up entire rooms when they made an appearance in Steve's apartment. He slept in front of the T.V. most nights because his bed felt too big and too empty but perhaps the worse thing of all--dweebiness and general child like wonder aside--was that his Nonna had started to notice.

And Nonna was a powerful witch, but she wouldn’t be able to pick up on a rotting corpse if it was dead in her living room

Steve shrugged, remembering again that no one could see him. "There aren't any hopefuls on my list."

"None at all?" Nonna said in disbelief. "Come now. My grandson is strapping--handsome and smart and a wiz with potions and brews." Nonna fell silent for a moment, the soft puff-puff-puff of her cigarette reaching through the atmosphere like limbs from a tree.

Finally; "We could always find you a love spell, slip an elixir into someone's tea. Someone you fancy."

Steve snorted. "Right, because that'll do wonders in quelling the rumors that I'm a stage five clinger."

"Who's saying that?" Nonna demanded. "Give me a lock of their hair and I'll make sure they stop saying anything."

And Steve knew she would.

Nonna had hexed three kids for stealing his lunchbox in the fifth grade for a whole lot less, and he had no doubt she'd do it again.

Still. He was reluctant to spill the metaphorical beans. "Just, kids in high school,” Steve clarifies. “When I was with Nancy--"

"Doll, that was ten years ago. Ten years." Nonna said, her smoky voice cresting the height of annoyance. "Besides, clinginess is just another term for loving selflessly and fearlessly, even when it's inconvenient."

She lit another cigarette. "What would Nancy Wheeler know about that?"

--

There were rules that came with being a witch. An etiquette, you could say, specifics that sucked all the fun out of having unlimited power. In many cases witches weren't exposed to higher magicks--either for lack of skill or self-control.

Steve's family colored outside the lines, so to speak. 

Nonna believed that there was no such thing as white or black Magick--just spells.

Just desire and intent and power. Truckloads of it, all waiting at the tips of his fingers if he knew where to look, and Steve never got in trouble for following his gut instinct. Not when he turned Tommy H. into a frog, not when he used magick to cheat on tests, and certainly not when he hexed people who deserved it.

Thus a culture of independence emerged around the young witch. A steely belief that there was no right or wrong, only his will.

His design.

You could say that was the first mistake.

--

The first time Steve reanimated a corpse was the day his lizard died.

Corncob was his familiar, which made it immensely difficult to wrap his head around the possibility of death. Steve's mother said it was a bad omen, that he hadn't properly sorted his intent before casting and thus the energies had taken something from him as payment.

Nonna said it was just the way of life.

All God's creatures pass on, Stevie. God notwithstanding.

But it was a fact he refused to accept. Steve didn't eat for days after Corncob's passing, refraining from drinking water, even, as he figured out what to do.

No right.

No wrong.

Only his will.

So Steve broke into the attic. Wrapped himself in a corner stacked with books and manuscripts on darker subjects, read until it felt like his eyes were melting out of his skull. 

There among the cobwebs Steve got his answer; necromancy.

The world felt slippery in his mouth. Steve knew it was mostly forbidden, especially for younger witches, but the thick, leather bound volumes had said it was rather simple to reach through the veil and breathe life into those one couldn’t bare to part with.

To bend the rules to fit his will, Steve was desperate; familiars weren't supposed to leave their masters, and he missed his friend dearly.

So, a life for a life.

That was the price, the books said. Steve made sure to iron out his intent this time.

He planned for days; gathered supplies under the guise of mischief--simple spells like making someone's hair fall out--until the moon was waxing and he convinced his mother to let him cast during the witching hour--his first of many. The incantation was to be said right as the clock struck midnight. Thrice thine and thrice mine, and thrice again to make up nine--

Steve sliced his palm and let an offering of blood feed the energy of the night.

Come morning corncob was eating flies like nothing had happened. Talking, like always, like before. The books said sometimes the soul got trapped in the in-between, but. Steve didn't notice a difference and Nonna didn't ask questions.

She told him he was powerful.

She told him it was rare that a witch of his age had the fortitude to reach into the veil, and he should be proud that he had been given such a precious, valuable skill.

Nonna told him that death was his gift.

You could say that was the second mistake.

--

Steve couldn't get the conversation with Nonna out of his head.

Robin was getting married and he was desperate. Single and restless, undesirable and frumpy--a whole list of things--stuck in a big Scooby-doo house with manuscripts on Wichcraft and Embalming that definitely were no help in getting him laid. 

After Nonna turned in for the night Steve poured himself a glass of wine, which he drank over a book on potions.

He poured himself another to make it through an embalming session; the corpse had started to smell and it was gravely unpleasant.

Steve took a shower and drank another to help him fall asleep.

It didn't work.

He poured a fourth glass of merlot and sat in front of the fireplace with the bottle cradled to his chest.

It was true. 

Everyone in Steve's orbit had moved on. Found love and success beyond running a Mortuary and Steve had thought about returning his gift so many times. Apparently botany and hearth witches were hot on the ticket of romance; everyone wanted flowers and tea cakes from their lover but the gift of death--helping spirits cross over, providing relief to grieving families, reaching into the veil in his search for lost spirits--while practical in use, was too weird for many.

For most. Of the people Steve had dated, at least. 

No mater what, witch or mortal, the same complaints always arose; Embalming fluid is not a valid form of cologne! Reanimating dead opossums on the side of the road is Creepy and Gross when they start following us around, asking for food! Conversations with dead people are not appropriate when I take you to meet my parents!

All the attributes Steve possessed weren't high on most people's lists when looking for a suitor. It's not like there were many witches running around, and even then.

Necromancy could be frightening. 

What with the vengeful spirts and the gaping hellmouths ready to swallow unsuspecting mortals, but Steve's gift was useful. And valuable. He felt whole and helpful and good when he could help people process complicated topics like death and he felt.

Powerful.

So powerful when he could fix it for them; bring back a child who had died too soon, or a man who had passed before the birth of his son. The kind of rush he received--Steve was taught never to fear power but to take it. Wield it. Forge his own path, create his own story--

"I should build a boyfriend." Steve said suddenly. 

As wine dribbled down his chin, Corncob awoke from his terrarium in the corner, cocking his head to the side like ‘Pussy won't.’

"Pussy will, you fucking dick." Steve rose on shaky feet and pulled his manuscripts from the book case. Leafing through them recklessly even as the words slipped around the page, he ached to find the answer. Five glasses of wine would serve him well tonight. 

"I can't believe I never thought of this before." He stared at Corncob. "Why didn't you think of this before?"

The lizard stared at him, glassy eyes quizzical. ‘Don't look at me, I'll have none of your necromancy.’

"You choose now to harness a sense of mortality?" Steve tossed the first manuscript to the side and propped open a second, biting his lip as he scanned the index for his favorite passage.

‘What are you searching for?’

"The Abi-Dalzim passage." Steve lamented distantly. They knew it well, had employed it when the Markson twins died of cancer before their fifth birthday.

Corncob wasn't on board with it that time, even though the children's mother had stopped eating.

Corncob was never on board with anything.

He was a terrible familiar. ‘Is that really a good idea?’ The lizard reasoned.

Steve closed the second manuscript and opened the Demonomicon. Volatile energies worked best, sometimes. "Every idea is a good one."

Corncob's tongue flicked out to lick his eyeball. ‘We haven't exhausted our other options.’

And that.

That was laughable. "I haven't had a partner in over ten years, Corny." The light from his lamp flickered once. "If I was capable of meeting one the usual way I'd be married with kids by now.”

‘What's that round friend of yours always saying?’ Corncob feigned interest. “’Self worth is not determined by outside factors...’”

Steve couldn't believe he was taking advice from a lizard, Goblin or otherwise. "You eat arachnids for a living. Hardly one to judge."

‘Something could go wrong.’ Corncob lamented. ‘The air. It worries.’

Steve opened a third manuscript. "Worries how?"

Corncob fell silent. Thoughtfully brooding as Steve copied the specifics from the Abi-Dalzim passage.

A graven image.

A list of attributes.

A lock of human hair, and. An orb of Thesula.

‘We don't have access to a spirt orb.’ Corncob concluded. As if that would somehow stand in the way. ‘They're extremely difficult to locate--’

"Difficult but not impossible." Steve pocketed the list and shrugged on a coat. Fall in Hawkins was brutal, the leaves paving a way from unrelenting cold. "I'll go see Keith. He always has the hook ups."

‘You despise Keith.’

Steve shrugged. "I despise you as well, but here we are.”

Corncob stared at him thoughtfully. ‘You are a powerful and kind master. Perhaps love will find you.’

Steve was almost moved.

Almost touched, to his very core, but he had grown tired of sleeping in this house alone. Had grown weary of filling out dating profile after dating profile only to be rejected for oozing outside a rigid set of standards, and.

Why wait?

The last of the single girls was leaving him. Marrying the mortal love of her life and Steve didn't see a reason to show up to the wedding without a date, when he could build one for free.

Why leave it to fate when Steve had the power?

Steve shrugged. "Yeah, and perhaps not." He held open the lapel of his jacket, exposing the pocket Corncob lived in when they ran errands together. "Now are you coming or what."

The lizard sighed. Big and dramatic and so bratty that Steve almost regretted bringing him back to life.

‘Alright, have it your way,’ the lizard told him, ‘But I'm going to complain the entire time.’

--

Keith was insufferable and not just because he was a vengeance demon.

They had done business together countless times. Keith always came to Steve whenever he needed payment from a recently deceased customer and Steve kept Keith’s Cart of Mysteries in business by purchasing all of his stolen goods. 

The guy had everything loaded into the back of his Dodge Neon; from enchanted rabbits feet to vials of blood from the holy lands, Steve's least favorite underwordling was the hottest ticket in Hawkins for any and everything Dark Arts.

And he was an asshole.

A stingy, self righteous asshole who just so happened to have exactly what Steve needed and of course was choosing tonight to be difficult.

On a full moon.

During the height of the witching hour.

"How do I know you won't break it?" Keith snatched the orb to his chest, eyebrows drawn in a grimace.

Steve so didn't have time for this shit. "What?" He was freezing, hugging his arms to his chest. "It's made of solid glass, you're telling me this thing is--"

"Yes. Thesula's are fragile. Practically shatter when placed in the wrong hands, and this is my only one 'til Tuesday, so." Keith polished the thing on the lapel of his jacket, just to be an even bigger dick. "How do I know you'll use it correctly?"

Steve blinked. "Because my incantation requires a--"

"Do you even know a Thesula's intended purpose?" Keith preened. "To retrieve souls from the veil. Any ol' soul you want or happen by and Thesula will call it fourth, no hidden fees and no take backs. Easy peasy."

Keith blew a raspberry and Steve? He wanted to scream. "Just sell it to me."

"Ask nicely."

"No." Steve concluded. Absolutely not. He gestured to the sky, eyebrows lifting in mock humor. "Kinda running on a clock, here, so--"

"What're you using it for?" Keith leaned against the trunk of his car.

"Like fuck I'm telling you."

The vengeance demon grinned. “If you want my orb bad enough you will."

And.

Shit.

Steve ran a hand through his hair. "Robin's getting married."

Keith immediately brightened. The two of them were friends, though Steve didn't really understand why. Vengeance demons could turn on you at the drop of a hat but he assumed the guy liked Robin's wit. Her spunk, maybe, and she was the spunkiest witch by far.

"Oh, Mazel Tov." Keith told him.

Steve held out his hand. "Yup, I'll pass along the message, so--"

Keith smirked. "Riddle me this." He tossed the Thesula in the air, catching it with a rough crack to his palm. "A satanic necromancer owns a morgue and comes downtown in search of a sprit orb. He finds one, thank his lucky stars, and discloses that his best friend is getting married."

"I don't uh." Steve was humiliated. "I don't think--"

"This warlock has a knack for raising the dead. Solving the inconvenient issue of mortality, the whole town knows it. Hell, the whole world knows it, I mean." Keith whistled, low and hard as he pocketed the orb again. "Guy's a big wig. But he has trouble with romance."

The vengeance demon stared at him. "What are you planning to do."

And Steve was desperate.

He sucked his teeth. "I'm building a--"

"You're building yourself a boyfriend." Keith said hysterically, like it was the funniest thing on Earth, and.

In a way it was.

He tossed the Thesula to Steve without warning, laughing harder when he nearly dropped it on the ground.

"Fuck," Steve winced. It was lighter than he had expected, glowing bright blue in the palm of his hand. "What's that mean?"

Keith looked away from packing his stuff, pushing the hair out of his eyes with another whistle.

"Means the God's are guiding you on your journey," the demon said casually.

Like the whole thing was casual.

Steve felt every bit like King Arthur as he fumbled for his wallet.

Keith stopped him. "Free of charge."

Which.

"Nice try," Steve chuckled. He fished a couple hundreds from his wallet, handing them over with a wink. "I'll be sure to credit you."

"Nah, no way." Keith pocketed the money with a vigorous shake of his head. "When your little boy toy goes wacko and eats half the town I don't want it getting out that I'm the one who made it happen."

Steve slid the orb into his pocket, forcing Corncob to shuffle in his perch. "Thanks again."

Keith waved dismissively, returning to the pile of garbage he was trying to fit in his trunk.

"Oh, and Steve!"

He turned around, confused.

Keith grinned. "Give him a smooch for me."

--

Steve had thought a lot about what he wanted in a boyfriend. Who he'd like to come home to after a long day and it was easy to envision the man he was going to create.

A being who was smart and strong, beautiful in the sense that it was insulting. Kind in a way that wasn't overt--sweet in a way that complimented himself and as he sat down to sketch an image Steve knew exactly what he was going for.

He made a point in outlining his desires.

Thought for hours about his intention--true love, someone to share his life with--and the orb glowed blue.

The Gods were smiling down on him and Steve tried not to let it go to his head as the the clock struck three. He situated himself in the embalming room. Lit candles, laid out his supplies for the evening and began.

On a metal slab he had fashioned a man made of clay.

The shape was vaguely human. Shorter than Steve but stockier around the middle--beefier.

Corncob chortled. ‘Twink.’

"Shut up," Steve mumbled. The lizard quieted instantly as Steve pressed the orb through the center of its chest, watching as the bluish hue lit the clay man from the inside. "His essence consume." Steve said.

Corncob swallowed, movement palpable in the thick air.

"Ready?"

As we'll ever be, I suppose.

Steve spoke in a loud, clear voice.

--

He awoke in bed. Sunlight streaming through the open window, birds singing--the whole nine yards. Steve tossed a pillow over his head and burrowed deeper under the covers because fuck this.

Fuck all of it, until--

Something was laying next to him in bed.

Something warm and solid, a thick wall of muscle shifting closer and closer still; "You are done sleeping, now?"

Steve peeked out from behind his pillowcase.

Blue eyes the color of high noon stared right back at him. Blonde ringlets spread across the bed tickled Steve's neck as his creation smiled, plush pink lips curving with secret warmth. His eyelashes practically touched Steve's from where they were pressed together, and. Holy shit.

Holy fuck, he was beautiful.

So beautiful it hurt, and. 

The clay man pried the pillow from Steve's hands and sat up, his muscular shoulders catching the sunlight in a frilly of sculpted ridges. He blinked his pretty blue eyes, taking in the bedroom as he turned to watch Steve fall apart against the mattress.

Steve swallowed. "You. Um. Gorgeous. Very, um. Hot." Nice. Very smooth.

The man smiled, soft and sweet. "Thank you.”

Which.

Steve scrambled into a sitting position, back hitting the headboard with a painful Crack.

"You can talk?"

"I learned how, hearing your thoughts," The clay man said, blue eyes rolling to look at the ceiling. "You made me in your image."

Steve snorted. He gestured to the guy's whole thing; the muscles and the long blond hair and those pecks, Jesus Christ.

"No, um. I wish." Steve chuckled.

The clay man grinned wider at that, eyes sparkling like Steve was something special.

Something beautiful.

He sat on his knees, the silk blanket falling in a heap around him and--

"Holy shit, you're." Steve covered his eyes. "You're naked um. Do you--"

The man started climbing up the mattress.

Holy fuck.

Steve could feel the bounce of it, the jostling of his weight as he settled on Steve's thighs with a coo, and.

Holy--god, in heaven--

Steve was instantly hard when the man tugged at his wrists. When blondie pulled Steve's hands away to show his face.

Steve peeked at him through one eye. "Do you want some? Clothes, or."

The man was watching him. Just staring, eyes wide and cheeks pink as Steve tripped over himself to get a grip. He brushed his fingers over Steve's mouth softly. Pressing to make him stop, to shut him up.

"You are good." The man said.

"Huh?" Steve wished he had the vocabulary to understand this moment because it felt heavy.

Massive, as the Man's fingers moved to cup his jaw. To tilt his face toward the light.

His brow furrowed around the thought. He parted Steve's lips with his thumb, eyes glued to the tender pink muscle of Steve's tongue as he muttered, "Let me kiss you."

And.

Steve tried to speak around the finger in his mouth. "I don't--"

The man inhaled at the feeling of Steve's tongue sliding over the pad of his finger. He shushed him, hinging Steve's jaw open with more force than necessary.

Steve thought distantly that he liked it.

"Let me taste you." The man said.

Holy fuck.

Holy-- "I don't even know your name." Steve whimpered pathetically. Because it was important to him. That this creature, this man, had an identity.

A personhood.

The man frowned. "I am yours." He leaned forward to mouth at Steve's neck, as if to prove it.

He only succeeded in making Steve think with his dick.

"Right, but I could, uh." He moaned softly at the sweet drag of teeth against his throat. "I could be yours, too--"

"You are mine."

"Yeah, that's um. That's alright with me, no complaints here, it's just--" Lips on his chest. His stomach. His thighs. Steve couldn't think straight.

He yelped when the man licked at the cotton of his boxers.

Right over his cock, teeth hot and breath warm, and--

Steve pulled him up by his shoulders.

The man frowned, hurt flickering and cracking on his face like candle light. "Do you not want me to claim you?"

Holy fuck.

Steve swallowed. "No, I. God, I want." The man leaned in again, eyes hungry on Steve's mouth. He stopped him with a gentle hand to the chest. "I have to get through this part, okay? Will you. Could you listen to me for a moment?"

The man nodded, sitting back on his ankles to reveal a thick, pink head trapped between the skin of his legs.

Steve forced himself to press on.

"It's important to me that you have a name. Because you aren't mine." His face fell. Steve grasped at him, desperate. "I mean you are. We belong to each other. As equals. You can live here, with me, if that's what you want. And I can help you see the world. I don't own you. That's what I'm saying."

"Maybe I want to be owned."

And Steve hadn't expected that.

"You're ten hours old, you have a lot to learn." He swallowed thickly, ignoring the ache between his legs.

"Did you not create me so I could be of service?" The man asked.

And. "Yeah, so I wouldn't be alone."

It was pathetic, admitting it out loud. Steve felt tears swamp his vision--he bit his cheek to make them go away. "I wanted to prove that someone could love me. My friend's getting married and I didn't want to show up without a date, and." Steve looked up, into those pretty blue eyes and felt like the worst kind of person. "Shit, this was a bad idea. I was being selfish."

The man shook his head. "It is not selfish to crave love and companionship."

"I don't want to take advantage of you," Steve said thickly. "I never should have--"

"You do not have to worry about that." He leaned forward and placed a hand on Steve's chest. "Your heart is pure. Clean."

As if that explained it all. Steve watched him, tracking the movement of those eyes across his face.

"I was made in that image," The man concluded.

Steve hung his head.

It was true, what they said about him. Steve was power hungry, pathetic, clingy. The worst of the worst and add God Complex to that list; you could create a clone of the worst person alive. Steve wanted desperately to disappear as a gentle hand moved his face toward the light once more.

The man smiled. "You are kind and fair and good. Let me be yours. Please."

"It wouldn't be right."

"I am giving myself to you because I love you." Those lips said. Steve relished the sweet slide of skin over skin as the man climbed into his lap. "What will it take for you to give yourself to me?"

Steve sighed. Opened his mouth to accept gentle, sloppy kisses from a gentle creature.

Steve pulled away. "We could start with names? I'm Steve," He said, reaching out a hand. The man kissed his knuckles.

"Who should I be?"

Steve shrugged. "Anything you like."

He allowed himself to be lowered to the mattress. Allowed the man to suck and kiss at his neck until, with a breath as soft as summer air;

"You can call me Billy."

#harringroveweek #day three #nercromancy because i said so! #harringrove #halloween #fluff and humor

[scoonsalicious]

you've got me invested with Unwanted! and I've got stuff I wanted to say. First off, buckle up because this is a long one. Second, I'm not defending him in anyway shape, or form, Bucky is still an absolute piece of shit for what he's done. BUT I will say, I do see why it came to that point. I mean, the obvious manipulation from she who i will not name correctly. look, Jusepie is smart, I'll give her that, bc she's so calculated about every single interaction she and Bucky have. The way she played into his insecurity, self-doubt, and fears, it didn't come off as a surprise to me why Bucky went down that rabbit hole. I saw it this way, Jordan made his fears worse unbeknownst to him, she's the reason why Pocket and him are arguing more and causing a rift in their relationship, AND THEN she throws in that life vest of "oh i understand you more, you can be open to me because we're basically the same person" so she seems like the good guy in the eyes of Bucky. it's kinda like, you push someone who can't swim in a pool without them knowing, and then you save them from drowning so at the end, you still end up being a hero even tho you caused the problem in the first place?

THEN you add the layer of what Hydra has done to him which, we already know how much that messed him up both physically and mentally AND THEN you add the layer that he's not even from this century! And during that time? fragile masculinity? lack of consent? so many things wrong in that era? It's This might sound so condescending but Bucky is a very very VERY fragile man with a fragile mind that can easily be manipulated AND ON TOP OF THAT, actually has a really fragile ego too. And Jeremiah FED all that, she kept telling him things he wanted to hear to make it SEEM like she's on his side and that's she's the only one who gets him even tho that's not true at all.

Bucket isn't innocent obviously, especially with the things he said and didn't say (a.k.a. defending pocket, calling out Jerico and putting boundaries). basically everything he's admitted about the mental gymnastics he was doing to make it seem like he wasn't doing anything wrong blah blah blah. i could only shake my head bc, really? But then it circles back to how fragile his emotional and mental being is. but still, you can't use that as an excuse. AND i will argue, he was having a power trip. what, someone who thinks no one will ever love or even admire him after everything that he's done (even tho it's not his fault) to suddenly having two women vying for his attention? better yet, FIGHTING for him? he's a man, at the end of the day, and they ain't shit.

now, while i don't see him as unredeemable bc I do see his side then again, people keep saying i have too big of a heart so lol, i also don't think this is going to be an easy fix bc hell, i don't trust him either. like everything that comes out of his mouth, i'd be side-eyeing a lot. While I do believe that once you start spying on who your partner talks to, texting, interacting, etc, that relationship is already over. But i also can't blame Pocket bc this is more or less a last resort to save a friendship for than anything else. bc I really do think they need to start from scratch to be able to come out of this. like, build that trust first, then that friendship before they can even start thinking about dating each other again.

I am worried though, because the thing with Bucky and Josiah, as much as we don't like to admit it, they have built some sort of friendship (toxic one but i'll digress). And it has also become a habit (i could argue addiction) for Bucky, especially when he's been open and vulnerable to her (i get there are things you just aren't brave enough to tell your part but like dude, pocket isn't the fragile girl that you think she is, she can handle it) so it's going to be a tough thing for him to navigate and there's still a possibility that he'd crack under pressure (i don't want to say relapse but u get my point), especially knowing the lengths Jose will go through to get to him. It's really up to him to resist her as much as he can, but Bucky is also a good man. He tends to see the good in people even if they absolutely do not deserve it. I mean I'm the same, because if i see someone cry, even if that someone has been absolute shit to me, it cave so easily. and I have no doubt Julian will play into that HEAVILY. i don't think she's shown what she's fully capable of and that's scary.

I know you said that something is still about to happen come chapter 18 before things become all fixing and groveling, and i'm really worried that this would be a nail on the coffin that would make Bucket irredeemable but, you also said it wasn't as bad as chapter 13 so i'm having my theories that the angst might not come directly from bucky, or that he has no control over it a.k.a it's all Jack's masterplan that Bucky wasn't conscious about it (i really hope not please i'm thinking about the worst). And while i don't agree with Pocket doing a nasty revenge just to get back at Bucky. I think it's more powerful for him to hurt solely because it's his own doing, not because Pocket did something intentionally to hurt him. But I also can't say I don't blame her. but I mean, if it wasn't intentional though? I could look the other way haha. Anyway I can't wait to see how you've decided to play this out! sorry for this whole essay haha much love 🤍

Okay, first off, I fucking LOVE THIS. All of it. These J names? SENDING ME. GIVING ME LIFE! I am cracking up over here to the point my dogs are concerned. They’re giving me Looks.

Second, it fills me with unspeakable JOY that you completely, 110% get where I’m trying to come from with Bucky! It’s been difficult for me to express all the things going on in his head when he’s not a POV character, especially without making it sound like he’s just bullshitting Pocket with his words, or being insincere or flat out lying, so to read that you picked up what I was putting down so succinctly is just ::chef’s kiss::

Third, Pocket gets her revenge, but not in a malicious way. Like, she doesn’t set out to make him suffer. She just… makes some decisions that lead to him facing the consequences of his actions in painful ways. Some are satisfying and funny and some are sad and difficult, but they all build toward Bucky seeing how absolute shit he was to her. As for Judas’s master plan, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking re: Bucky not being conscious of it, don’t worry— I didn’t go there. If you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, then I have no idea what you’re thinking lol

Trying to be purposefully vague about Chapter 18: it’s not so much what Bucky does that causes the angst— it’s how he responds to what he did that really gets to Pocket. She notes to Wanda and Nat that she could have forgiven him for his actions, in time, but not for the way he followed up on them.

#unwanted #unwanted update #jnon report

[theladyofdeath]

Hello, lovely writer!!

Would you be willing to do a Rowaelin where there’s this giant romantic surprise (of your choosing) Rowan’s been planning for weeks

Valentines, anniversary, just because he can.

No pressure if you don’t like it.

A/N: I had a thousand ideas for this one, but I decided to keep it simple. I hope you enjoy! x Warnings: language

Everything was set, ready.

Rowan knew because he'd checked ten times and then once more for good measure. Although a cliche to propose to your girlfriend on Valentine's Day, Rowan thought it would surprise Aelin the most, considering he often ranted about how much he hated romantic cliches.

Gods, he was nervous.

Rowan was standing on a rooftop, surrounded by lanterns, string lights, and white rose petals. He was dressed in a suit that was way too expensive. He'd bought it that morning and physically flinched when he swiped his card, but he looked pretty damn good, so it was worth it.

At least, that's what Lysandra convinced him of.

Now he stood alone, waiting. Lysandra was supposed to pick Aelin up for a group date, where they would meet Rowan and Aedion at one of their favorite restaurants on this side of town. Little did Aelin know that they would be arriving at Rowan's apartment complex and coming up to the rooftop, overlooking the city of Orynth.

Little did she know that Rowan was about to ask her to be his wife.

He'd wanted to do it for a while now, but really grew serious about it a few months before. It wasn't something he wanted to rush, but something he wanted to take his time with. Aelin didn't deserve a spur of the moment proposal. She deserved a proposal as grand and dramatic as she was.

Rowan went to the railing and looked down at the street below. There was still no sign of Aelin.

They were taking forever.

Pulling out his phone, he shot a quick text to Lysandra. ETA?

She texted him back right away. We'll be there soon. Deep breaths.

Rolling his eyes, Rowan put his phone back into his pocket. Deep breaths. Like he wasn't calm. He was calm.

No, he wasn't.

He took Lysandra's advice and closed his eyes, taking in one deep breath after another. He did another check in his jacket pocket for the custom ring he'd had made for Aelin, tucked inside of a small velvet box. It was there, just like it had been every other time that he'd checked.

He paced for another fifteen minutes before his phone vibrated again. Lysandra. We have arrived.

Rowan went to the far side of the roof, where he stood beneath a flower arch. At first, Rowan had been against the white arch spun in roses, but Lysandra had insisted that it wasn't over the top. It was just enough.

He felt like he'd been standing there forever, alone on the roof, beneath the arch, but then the roof door opened, and she came out onto the rooftop.

Lysandra gave Rowan a wink before shutting the door, leaving the two of them alone.

Aelin barely made it beyond the door as she stared around the roof in awe, before her gaze landed on Rowan.

"Ro," she breathed, "what the hell is going on?"

This was it.

He felt like he was going to vomit.

"You don't like it?" he teased.

Aelin let out a shaky laugh, her eyes already misty. "I love it. I love it, Ro."

She made it to Rowan at last, between the aisle of rose petals. And before he said anything, Rowan fell to one knee.

"Aelin," he began, slowly, looking up at her, "I-"

"Yes."

Rowan hesitated. "Yes?"

"Yes."

He laughed, quietly. "I haven't even said anything yet."

"It doesn't matter." She was already crying, taking his hands. "My answer is yes."

Now Rowan was thrown off. Happy, overjoyed, excited as fuck, but thrown off. "Should I just get rid of the speech I wrote, then?"

He had been writing it for weeks.

Surely someone should hear it.

Aelin laughed again, shaking her head. "No, no, I'm sorry, please, I want to hear it."

Rowan opens his mouth, but soft laughter is all that comes out. This woman drove him mad. All this planning, all these months, and she just comes in hot, saying yes. But he can’t be mad, because that’s why he fell in love with her. She’s headstrong, she knows what she wants, and she does what she wants without waiting for anyone else.

So Rowan shook his head and said, “I love you. I want you every day, for the rest of my life.”

Aelin waited for him to go on with misty eyes, but when he didn’t, she asked, “Oh, shit, was that it?”

Ignoring the two page speech in his pocket, Rowan said, “Marry me.”

The tears in Aelin's eyes spilled over as she nodded, and then she was kissing him, urgently, relentlessly. "Of course. Of course."

Rowan was so caught up in the moment that he almost forgot about the ring. For something he had been planning for months, nothing was going as planned, but it was all so much better than he could have imagined.

Yes.

She told him yes.

Nothing else mattered.

Everything else was irrelevenant.

Nonetheless, Rowan took the little velvet box out of his pocket and opened it up. Aelin began crying all over again, holding out her left hand in anticipation. Rowan slid the ring onto her finger and they both stared, in awe of this moment.

This was it.

This was the moment that they would tell their children about, their grandchildren about. And it was perfect, even if all of Rowan's planning had gone completely down the drain.

He didn't care about the planning.

He didn't care about any of it. All he cared about was the fact that Aelin had said yes, that she was going to be his wife.

Considering that, nothing else mattered.

#rowaelin #rowan #aelin #tog #throne of glass fanfiction #au #modern au #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #throne of glass #fanfiction #fanfic #sjm #valentines day #happy valentine's day #valentines day au #proposal au #tara answers prompts #drabble #dabble #oneshpt

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Lost And Found - Peter Pan X Female Reader

Title: Lost And Found

Peter Pan X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Devin (Mentioned), and lost boys, and Reader's parents

WC: 1,458

Warnings: The reader has a father and mother, mention of abuse between parents, weapons mentioned, and being stuck in Neverland forever

You sighed, curled up in your bed. Your parents were fighting again, nothing too bad, but their yelling and screams were keeping you up at night. You looked to the window, looking out into the darkness of night. The moonlight was shining through your curtains, illuminating your room as you listened to them argue. You felt a sense of anger that fueled your veins in hot red blood. You had dealt with worse before, but this one seemed different than others; it brought back memories of when you were younger, getting mentally beaten by your father, your mother doing nothing about it.

"I'm going to get some sleep." You murmured to yourself, trying to close your eyes.

But you couldn't shake off the memories from last night, of how he'd put his hands on her, the way she screamed... The sounds of things breaking in your home. Letting out a shaky breath, you tuned them out as much as you could, before you finally, slowly slipped off the sleep.

~~~

You awoke to the sound of the sea. The sound of the ocean waves lapping onto the shore that you felt beneath you. You felt the small rocks and pebbles under you, making an uncomfortable bed. You sat up, feeling the pressure of the rocks on the palms of your hands, as you looked around, confused. You were on some beach.

As you tried to stand up, there was a sharp pain in your head. You groaned, holding your forehead. But, as you powered through the pain, you finally took a look around at your surroundings. Looking around, you noticed the treeline of evergreens and pine, standing tall against the bright blue/gray sky. On the other side of the trees, was a dark forest.

Looking down at your pajamas, you were hardly dressed to go venturing out into the woods. Then again, you didn't know if you were even still in your own world. It was possible that you'd be stuck here forever, unable to return to your reality. That would suck. This place, you had never seen anything really like it before. Yes, it looked like any regular rocky beach, but there was just something about it that made it seem otherworldly.

You were just about to convince yourself into going into the woods, but that's when you felt like someone was watching you. The overwhelming anxiety that filled you was enough for you to stop moving, despite your curiosity. You heard footsteps on the rocks, making you look over in that direction. You saw a figure walking towards you, out of the shadows behind the trees. The person was a young teen.

He was wearing a dark green outfit of some kind. He had auburn hair and striking green eyes. He stared at you as you stared at him. Confused, you didn't know this boy.

"Who are you?" You asked, speaking up.

The boy before you smirked a bit, "Peter Pan." He spoke, not expecting his accent.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Peter Pan... As in the boy who can fly? Pixie dust and all that?" You laughed, not believing.

The boy nodded, "Well, yes. My name is Peter Pan."

You stuffed your hands in your pajama pants pockets, "So named after him or something?" You asked and Peter shrugged.

"Well, Peter... Where am I? Last I remember I finally fell asleep in my bed." You said and the boy shook his head.

"You're in Neverland." He replied as if it was obvious.

You blinked, "Neverland? What the hell are you talking about? Neverland isn't real..." You trailed off, confused.

Peter turned his face away from you, "It's real. You are in Neverland... And I am Peter Pan."

You looked at him in shock, "What? No, you are lying." You snapped.

Peter sighed and turned around, walking into the forest. You watched him go, then turned to follow him. He said nothing as you followed him, eyeing the boy in front of you skeptically, you wondered if he was telling the truth or not. Entering a clearing, Peter stopped. You looked around the clearing, noticing the tents and a large wooden bonfire in the middle of the clearing.

"Lost boys!" Peter called out, your eyes widening when boys of all different ages ran out from their hiding places.

The boys stared at you with wide eyes, and you stared back, not understanding anything that was going on. Was this just a group of roleplayers or maybe a gang of orphaned kids who escaped from an orphanage? Even that sounded highly impossible.

"Boys! We have our first lost girl!" Peter announced, the boys cheering and clapping as they came running over to you.

They all surrounded you, staring at you curiously. One of them stepped forward, "Are you a lost child like us?"

Flabbergasted, you stared at each child confused, noticing that only the little kids had run up to you, most of the slightly older kids stayed away, possibly wary of you.

"I... Uh... I don't know."

"Did the shadow take you?" Another small boy asked, but you had no words.

"Alright, back off now, give her space," Peter spoke, nudging the kids away, making you sigh in relief.

You looked around the clearing, taking in everything. There were about twenty boys, all of them ranging in age from five to eighteen years old, you presumed. The oldest ones had swords strapped on their hips, and the youngest ones had either sharp sticks or bows and arrows. This was not what you thought this place was going to be like originally.

"Get dinner ready, Spitz." Peter demanded one of the young boys, "Devin will help you."

As the children rushed away for dinner or whatnot, you turned to Peter.

"This is nice and all, but I have to get home now." You spoke and Peter shook his head, a charming grin on his face.

"That won't be possible, love."

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms, "And why not?"

Peter shrugged, "Because you're staying here."

You gasped, "Say what now?"

Peter chuckled, "I told you, this place is real. The shadow chose you."

Your mouth dropped open, "If I remember correctly, the shadow is yours, so... Like, unchoose me or something."

Peter shook his head, "No, the shadow chooses whoever it wants, and it chose you. Since you are here, you belong here."

You crossed your arms, "What does that even mean? What do you mean I belong here?" You asked, getting frustrated.

"The shadow brings me children who feel unloved or lost." He said matter of factly, beginning to walk around you in circles, like a beast watching his prey.

"So I'm lost... That's what you think?" You asked, scoffing.

Peter just grinned with a nod, "Yes."

You let out a huff of air, "I am not lost!" You barked at him, "I am perfectly fine!"

Peter clapped his hands together, "That's what you would like to think."

You sighed, pressing your forefinger and middle finger against the bridge of your nose. "I thought Peter Pan was supposed to be nice or something. I read, in the end, he let Wendy, John, and Michael go after they almost got killed by Hook."

Peter stopped, stepping closer to you, smirking, "Not in this story, love."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, "Fine. Whatever, I'll stay here until I find my own way out."

Peter shook his head, "No, you are staying here, forever." He paused, before he moved over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. His hands were warm and smooth, and you shivered a bit.

"I don't have forever. I have a life... Friends... School..." You muttered to yourself, unsure of how long you could last here.

Peter tilted his head, "You do remember those who step foot on Neverland, never grow old, right?"

You shook your head, "Yeah, but... I don't want to stay here. I mean, how long can I possibly stay? Forever?" You asked, tilting your head.

Peter smiled wider, "Forever."

You cocked your head, "I don't understand."

"Once you've gone through the shadow, once you become lost, you will remain in Neverland forever," Peter answered, his voice low and soothing.

"I... I just want to go home..." You muttered, unable to look into his green eyes any longer.

"Do you? Your father and mother fight all the time. They hardly notice you."

You looked back at him, glaring, "How do you know that?"

Peter smirked, rubbing his hands down your shoulders, his grip landing on your arms. "I'm Peter Pan, I can see how lost you are."

You scoff, pulling away from his intoxicating touch.

"You belong here. I'll convince you, Y/N. After all, Peter Pan always prevails."

#peter pan #ouat #fluff #cute #slight angst #peter pan ouat #once upon a time #ouat fanfom #fanfiction #peter pan x reader #peter pan x female reader #angst #parental angst #lost boys #neverland #never grow up

[dirtyoldmanhole]

extremely self indulgent little writing exercise because the brain worms wouldn't let go :P

FEH-verse drabble. The summoner hires Zihark to investigate anomalies about Gunter.

Coins clinked, and not for the last time Zihark thought they sounded remarkably like the metal of a prison. "I don't like this." He said suddenly, drumming fingers along the wall. "Now that's somethin' strange to say when you've just been paid handsomely just to talk to a harmless old knight. Clean task even."

She smiled, but it was with a huckster's patently false guile, the kind he had seen before too many times. Unlike them, she at least could be reasoned with; the swordsman had discovered there were more commonalities than not despite the affected mask.

"There's an absence." The swordsman's fingers stilled, but his words continued briskly if he hadn't heard her reply. "You paid me to talk to this knight Gunter and find out what his motivations are beyond serving the Nohr noble. You paid me to find out how rumors of this Anankos are related to him---and all we have is a few scant words in burned books, whispers, and a notable lack of taking advantage of this power hole that the rumors and your suspicions imply."

At that, she chuckled, much like a cat holding a secret.

The sound irritated him, and more than anything he disliked the certainty that it implied. Evenly, he responded if only to puncture it.

"...Dare i say it sounds like you didn't tell me everything."

"I needed you to confirm my suspicions." This time, surprisingly, the smile was warmer, genuine. "There was no way in hell that one was going to crack if I asked him direct---soul contract or no contract." She waved her hand apathetically which told him, as always, that she cared a great deal for this little point. "I'm adverse to that pressure unless strictly needed as it creates more problems than it does solutions. i need willing minions eatin' out of my hand using the same logic that I do; not resentful ones aware of the leash around their necks. Aware of the obvious collars at least."

it's easier to lie with the truth, she had said once, in their first meeting. All the cards on the table was another peculiar turn of phrase used then, and he privately had to admit it had almost snowed him until---

The summoner stilled suddenly.

"Power."

This time it was his turn to raise an eyebrow poised as a silent question. Sometimes her wandering train of thought was as maddening as the crude honesty.

"Some people fold to power from above. Gunter only has one he would fold for." She let out a whistle. "...Or i thought he did."

"I don't follow."

"Corrin. He's shielded naturally from suspicion with his liege's influence since that one sure as shit ain't going to question his loyalty. What if that wasn't entirely by coincidence, Zi, considering how long he's had to shape Corrin." The summoner leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. "What would happen if you pointed that dragon at him with ironclad proof he ain't who he says he is, i wonder…"

It was a remarkably cold, bleak thought. Briefly, he wondered if he had misjudged the summoner to have a heart of stone.

He was a man with blood on his hands and slept full nights knowing how much further he'd bend; but there were certian lines he was uneasy to cross, and the idea of pitting potential innocents against each other was perilously close to one.

"Unhappiness." He said with finality.

"Zihark, I'm as much of a romantic as you are believe it or not. But for a vaguely interesting project that I thought he was, he is shaping up to be a genuine threat if only through this external influence. An unknown-unkown to use another old bastard's words, versus a known-unknown."

"I need to know more." She hissed after a beat, but it was with focused bright-eyed restlessness rather than any frustration, and he let the heavy moment slide from their mutual hands like a fisherman's net.

"It'll cost you." Zihark said lightly, shouldering the door as hearkening to leaving. "Even if I give you a discount, which you know I won't."

The corner of her mouth quirked, at that. Strange, she was the only one to get his humor at times.

"I'm prepared, although Anna will probably shoot me for emptying Askr's coffers. I'll just tell her you're still the cheaper option compared to Volke. Which, let's face it, you are."

"What a glowing review." He blithely drawled on the way out, and he could still hear her laughter half a flight down.

#h a l p #(i had INTENDED more gunter but as usual things get away from me lol)

[keerysquinn]

Wherever You Point To I’ll Find ~ Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham

Nobody expected a budding romance between Steve and Chrissy when they were invited on this graduation road trip. But, as the two spend more and more time together away from the pressures their families, they just might find that they’re the perfect match.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: modern au, road trip, mutual pining, fluff, angst, discussion of mental health and body issues, eventual smut, adult themes and swearing throughout

Word Count: 16.1k

A/N: tumblr gave me hell trying to get this posted, so hopefully it goes up this time

Anyway, this chapter brings the story to just under 50k, and I still have 6 more chapters to go. It's wild to me that I've already written that much about these two, and that number is going to more than double before I'm done. Thanks for following along with this story so far!

After giving Steve an ample amount of time to look around the shack, the group was back on the road. They stopped for pizza on the way and ended up making it to Myrtle Beach before it was too late. The only snag in their plan was the fact that most hotels in the area seemed to be fully booked for the night.

“Check this motel up here,” Nancy said as Steve started to turn into the next parking lot. “I’m sure they’ll have vacancies if nothing else. I can’t believe I forgot to book a hotel sooner."

As soon as Steve put the car in park, Nancy hopped out to go check and see if they had any vacancies. There was no reason for them all to get out of the car if they weren't going to be staying there. They waited as Nancy talked to the clerk for a few minutes, and soon she was jogging back to their car.

"So, the good news is that we have a place to sleep tonight."

"And the bad news?" Eddie asked.

"They only had one room left, so we're all going to have to share. But there are two beds, so Chrissy and I can share one, and you and Steve can share the other. It's either that or we all sleep in this car."

"I think the four of us can manage to share a room with no issues," Steve said. "It's better than sleeping in the car."

"Or camping again," Chrissy added.

"Definitely better than camping."

"Then it's settled. I'll go grab the room key, and then we can get ourselves situated."

The beds in the room were a little bit smaller than they would have liked considering they were sharing, but they could make do. They all took turns using the bathroom to get ready for bed, and Chrissy tried not to freak out about having to share a room with Steve. She didn't know why she was so on edge about it. It wasn't like she had to share a bed with him or anything like that. 

But then he came out of the bathroom without a shirt on, and she had to force herself not to stare. Honestly, it should have been illegal for him to walk around like that. He wasn't allowed to have this kind of effect on her. It wasn't fair.

She tried to busy herself with fluffing up her pillows, but it didn’t help that she and Steve had both chosen the sides of the bed that were next to the end table shared between the two. If she really wanted to, she could have reached out and touched him.

Despite the fact that she'd slept on the ground the night before, she had slept surprisingly well, and she was attributing that to sleeping next to Steve. She felt so safe with him, and now her mind was wandering towards how nice it might have been to share one of these beds with him. She could snuggle up next to him, and maybe he'd wrap his arms around her and hold her close. She'd fall asleep feeling protected, and she'd wake up to another one of his sleepy smiles. Maybe even a good morning kiss.

No. She wasn't allowed to have those thoughts. There was nothing between them no matter how much she might have liked that. She still didn't know why he'd been so upset with her when she showed up at his tent, and there was no way he was interested in her if he was that cold towards her. He'd only let her stay with him because she was scared, and he was too nice to turn her away even though her very presence annoyed him. That was the only logical reason why he put up with her. Why anyone put up with her really.

She pushed those thoughts away and rolled over so her back was to Steve. Maybe if he wasn't in her line of sight, she could fall asleep without thinking about how nice it would be to be his.

***

When she woke up the next morning, Chrissy felt awful. Not because she'd slept poorly. She'd surprisingly gotten a decent amount of sleep despite feeling like she was freezing from the way that the room's air conditioning was blasting and being afraid that she was going to invade Nancy's side of the bed.

No, she woke up feeling horrible because it finally dawned on her that she was going to be expected to wear a swimsuit and show off her body in public. She hadn’t been sticking to the carefully formulated diet her mother dictated for her, and everyone was going to notice how horrible she was certain she looked now because of that.

As everyone took turns using the bathroom to get ready for the day, Chrissy sat on her bed completely zoned out. There was no way she could go through with a beach day. She’d feel awful and exposed the entire time, and she knew she wouldn’t enjoy herself. However, she also knew that this wasn’t her trip. She was just along for the ride, and she felt like she had no right to dictate what they did when everyone else was really looking forward to their beach days. She thought that maybe she could say she wasn’t feeling well and opt to stay back at the hotel for the day, but she knew that would never work. She knew her best friend, and she knew that if she said that she was staying back at the hotel for the day, he’d give up his day to keep her company. Or, even worse, he’d convince everybody else to stay with her, too, and she’d effectively ruin this trip for everyone. She’d just have to suck it up and go to the beach with everyone else. Maybe she wouldn’t even look as bad as she thought she would, and then all of this worrying would be for nothing.

When it was finally her turn to use the bathroom, she gathered her belongings and locked herself inside to change. When she got a look at herself in the mirror, that ever present gnawing feeling in her chest only grew stronger. Normally, she loved her high-waisted bikini because she felt like it covered her problem areas nicely, but today was different. She thought she looked so bloated, and she knew it was because she’d eaten nothing but junk food the day before. She’d been trying to eat mostly healthy options on the trip so far, but the day before had been filled with fast food. Fat and salt and grease and all the things she was supposed to be avoiding if she wanted to be the perfect girl that she was expected to be. She’d ruined everything with her lack of self-control, and she could hear her mother’s voice repeating I told you so over and over and over in her ear.

It was then that she decided that she wasn’t taking her coverup off for the entire day. She’d sit there in her oversized t-shirt and shorts and watch everyone else enjoy the water. She couldn’t let anyone look at her, or she’d feel even worse about herself and the choices she’d made that led her to this point.

While Chrissy was struggling to get her t-shirt to drape just right to hide her body, Nancy was starting to get impatient back in the room.

“I’m going to head down to the car,” she said as she grabbed her beach bag. “We need to leave soon if we want to have any hope of finding a decent parking space. Just head out to meet me when she’s done, okay?”

Steve knew that Nancy wasn’t going to be okay with waiting very long. She was a stickler when it came to the schedule she’d made for their trip, and she wasn’t going to be happy if they had to park too far away and then walk the extra distance back when they were exhausted after a long beach day. He didn't want to make Chrissy feel rushed, but he knew that Nancy was going to start complaining about their schedule being thrown off if they didn't leave for the beach soon. So he tried to make his urging seem lighthearted.

“C'mon, Chrissy,” he said, throwing on his Kermit the frog impression. “We've gotta get moving right along.”

Chrissy was immediately pulled away from her self-loathing thoughts as she whipped out of the bathroom.

“I can't believe you told him,” she said, glaring at Eddie. “You promised you wouldn't say anything.”

“Tell me what?” Steve asked.

“I didn't say anything,” Eddie replied.

“Oh yeah? Then why did he do that?”

“Tell me what?” Steve asked again.

“I didn't say anything,” Eddie repeated, ignoring Steve again. “He's just like that.”

“Oh.” Chrissy got very quiet and stared at the floor.

“Can someone please fill me in on what's happening?” Steve asked.

“Do you want to tell him, or should I?” Eddie asked.

“It's silly and embarrassing,” she said, avoiding making eye contact with Steve. “I'm just a really big fan of the Muppets.”

“Why is that embarrassing?”

“I don't know. It just feels childish for them to be my favorites, I guess.”

“Well, I don't think it's childish. The Muppets are cool,” he tried to reassure her.

“You're making fun of me.” The pit in her stomach grew, and she couldn't help but feel so small. This was why she didn't tell people about this part of her personality. As soon as anyone found out she loved the Muppets, she instantly became a joke in their eyes.

“I promise I'm not making fun of you,” he told her. “There's nothing for you to be embarrassed about.”

“Really?” 

She finally looked up from the ground, and Steve was smiling at her. Not a mocking smirk like she'd feared, but a kind one. A smile that said whatever opinions he had of her hadn't been changed by what she'd just told him.

“Really. I mean who doesn't like the Muppets?”

A wave of relief washed over her, but it was short-lived because Eddie was incapable of letting her hold on to a single shred of her dignity.

“She sleeps snuggled up with a Fozzie Bear plushie,” he said before racing out the door to meet Nancy down at the car.

“Do you think Nancy would be upset if I drowned her boyfriend?”

“You're really that embarrassed by still having a stuffed animal? Even though I've given you two of them in the past week?”

“Fozzie is different. A gift from a cute boy is very different from a stuffie that I've had since I was a little kid. Nobody will take me seriously if they know I still take comfort from a stuffed animal.”

What she wanted to say was that no one would find her attractive if they knew about Fozzie, but saying that would mean admitting out loud that she wanted Steve to be attracted to her, and she couldn't bring herself to do that just yet. Especially on a day like today where she knew she was the opposite of desirable.

He chose to ignore the fact that she'd called him cute. As much as he would have loved to tease her for that, he could tell that wasn't what she needed right now. He didn't want to risk her going quiet on him again, and he was pretty sure that's where she was headed if he didn't do something.

“Can I let you in on a secret?” he asked as he closed the gap between them.

She nodded and looked up at him.

“I still have the stuffie that I slept with as a baby.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don't sleep with it anymore or anything like that, but I've kept it safe and hidden through multiple cleanings by random people my mom hired to clear the useless clutter out of the house. Sentimental reasons and all of that. So, I get it. I'm not going to make you feel bad for having an attachment to a childhood toy. I think it's normal, and if it makes you happy, there's nothing wrong with that.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome. I need you to keep that information to yourself though. Not even Robin knows about it, and I'd like to keep it that way.”

“I think I could be persuaded to keep that secret for you. Unlike Eddie, I don't spill secrets for fun.”

“Go easy on him, okay? He might have been the one to bring up Fozzie, but it was kind of your fault he had the opportunity in the first place when you really think about it.”

“I guess so. He's lucky I love him, or I really would drown him.” She beamed up at Steve. “So, what kind of animal is it?”

“That's classified information.”

“Come on. You know about Fozzie. It's only fair.”

“Sorry, Chrissy. I've given you all the info about it that you're gonna get. Now grab your bag and head out to the car before Nancy comes back in here and drags us out.”

“So bossy,” she teased.

Steve reached out to pinch at her hip, but she dodged him as she grabbed her beach bag off the bed. She stuck her tongue out at him before racing out the door and heading towards the car with him following close behind her.

The ride to the beach passed without incident, and they still managed to get a decent parking space, so Nancy was pleased. Everything was perfectly fine until they'd set up their spot on the beach.

Chrissy may have solved the issue of not wanting to expose her body that day, but she'd conveniently forgotten that that didn't mean everyone else would be staying covered up as well. That fact was made all too apparent when a shirtless Steve approached her with a bottle of sunscreen.

“Would you mind helping me get my back?” he asked as he handed her the bottle.

“Yeah. Sure. No problem.”

He turned around so that his back was to her, and she had to stop herself from falling over. She'd seen him without a shirt on before. Just a few brief times during the trip and only before she looked away out of embarrassment. Those few brief moments hadn't prepared her for this.

She knew he was fit, and that was even more obvious as her hands ran up and down the length of his back to work the sunscreen into his skin. Actually feeling his muscles under her fingertips was almost too much for her.

But the thing that truly made her blush was how fixated she was on the freckles and moles that dotted his skin. This man was a mosaic, and she wanted to sit and count them all.

She couldn't do that though. If she took too long doing this, it would be weird, and he'd be uncomfortable around her, which was the last thing she wanted. So, she rubbed the last bit into his lower back before dropping her hands away completely.

“Okay. You're all set.”

He turned back around to face her and took the bottle that she'd offered back to him. She hoped he didn't notice the blush that she was certain was now gracing her cheeks, and if he did notice, she hoped he'd think that maybe she was only a little sun-kissed already.

“I can get your back for you, if you want,” he offered.

“Oh, you don't need to do that. I'm not going out in the sun anytime soon. I was just planning on staying here under the umbrella for a little while.”

“You're not going to get in the water?”

“I'm not really a beach person,” she said with a small shrug. That was a lie, of course, but it was necessary. She needed a reason to explain why she wasn't taking off her clothes, and that was as good as anything else.

“Why didn't you say something sooner?”

“I didn't feel like it was my place to object to a multi-day, already planned portion of the trip. But seriously, don't worry about me. I'm happy to just hang out in the shade.”

“Do you want me to sit out with you? Keep you company?”

“You don't have to do that. Go have fun with Eddie and Nancy. Maybe I'll come hangout with you guys in a little bit, okay?”

“If you're sure. I don't want you to be bored over here by yourself.”

“I'll be fine. I promise. Don't worry about me.”

He left her to make herself comfortable in the shade of their beach umbrella, but he would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't a little worried about her. He thought she'd seemed excited about the beach when they'd talked about this portion of the trip in the days leading up to it, and now she was isolating herself from the rest of them. 

He didn't want to dwell on it too much, but he kept finding himself glancing back towards where she was sitting. She looked fine though, so he told himself that she was just having an off day.

But then she didn't eat lunch. When everyone else was ready for food, she told them that she wasn't hungry just yet, but they didn't need to wait for her. He'd offered her some of his fries anyway, and she'd looked at them as if he'd just offered her a mouthful of sand. He didn't press the issue, but it worried him more than her sitting out all morning did.

He didn't know why he cared so much when he was still feeling somewhat hurt about the way she'd reacted when she found him reading. He shouldn't have cared if this girl who judged him was choosing to avoid having fun with her friends or skipping meals, but he did. And the more she kept to herself and gave flimsy excuses, the more he felt the urge to make sure she was okay.

When everyone else was ready for dinner, she claimed that she'd eaten a late lunch, so she wasn't hungry, and Steve's concern for her only grew. He'd tried to be subtle about it, but he'd spent the better part of the afternoon keeping an eye on her after she'd declined joining them for a swim. Other than a trip to the restrooms, he didn't think he'd seen her leave her spot under the umbrella once. Maybe she'd gotten a snack at some point, but he doubted it. Something was seriously wrong with Chrissy, and he didn't know how to fix it. He didn't know if she'd even want him to fix it. He just knew he had to do something.

When the sun was just about to set, Nancy and Eddie wandered off to have a private moment together leaving Steve with the perfect opportunity to try to find out what was wrong. He approached her with two rocket pops that he'd purchased from a nearby ice cream cart, and he offered her one as he moved to sit down next to her.

“I'm really hoping you like rocket pops,” he told her as he handed her the treat. “I wasn't sure what flavor you'd choose, and I always got these as a kid because I was really indecisive, and they're three different flavors, so I figured I couldn't go wrong with this one, you know?”

With the sun setting, the breeze seemed especially cool, and he noticed that she was shivering a little as she hugged her knees to her chest. Before she could say anything about the popsicle he'd given her, he turned around and grabbed his windbreaker from where he'd tossed it that morning. He draped it around Chrissy's shoulders and gave them a little squeeze.

“That sea breeze is no joke,” he said as he offered up a small smile.

That was somehow the wrong thing for him to say because the next thing he knew, Chrissy was crying. This was the last thing he wanted to happen, and he was struggling to figure out what he could do for her.

His struggle was short-lived because Chrissy spoke up.

“Why are you so nice to me?” she asked. She was avoiding making eye contact with him, choosing to stare at the popsicle instead.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what is all this?” she asked as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her free hand. “The popsicle and the jacket. The plushies. Making me feel safe when I was scared and reassuring me whenever I'm upset about something. I've been racking my brain, and I can't understand why anyone would be so nice to me. And I know you said that sometimes people are nice just because they want to be, but I don't deserve that kindness. I don't.”

If he didn't think she'd brush him off, he'd pull her closer to him and hold her until she stopped crying. This was obviously something that he couldn't fix with a popsicle and a smile.

“Who made you think that you don't deserve to be treated with kindness?”

Chrissy shook her head and wiped at her eyes again.

“That's okay,” he told her. “We can just sit here quietly. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to.”

So, they sat in silence. She waited until it had started to melt a little bit, but Chrissy did eat her popsicle. Steve wasn't counting that as a win though. Not when she was still so upset and shutting down on him. Not when he could still hear the occasional sniffle coming from her direction.

Once the sun had almost completely set, Chrissy started to feel braver. Maybe it was because Steve had sat with her while she cried and hadn't tried to force her to speak or maybe it was because she felt more hidden without the sun beating down on them - she just knew that, for the first time, she wasn't afraid to tell someone what was going on in her head.

“My mother,” she said, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“You asked me who made me think I didn't deserve to be treated with kindness, and I'm giving you an answer. I don’t talk about this with anybody because it’s not exactly the easiest thing in the world for me, but I don’t have the best relationship with my mom. I’ve always been the family disappointment, and nothing I do is ever good enough in her eyes.”

“I find it really hard to believe that a girl like you could be the family disappointment,” he told her. “You’re perfect.”

Chrissy huffed out a laugh.

“That’s because I have to be. Perfect, I mean. And I thought that maybe not being around her during this trip would help, but I can hear her telling me what a failure I am every time I do something that she wouldn’t approve of, and it’s actively ruining this trip for me. I usually love the beach, but I sat out today and punished myself for my bad eating habits because I could hear her telling me that it was obvious I’d gone off my diet and that everyone was going to stare at me because of how horrible I looked. Even now, I can hear her saying how foolish it was for me to waste calories on a treat when I’ve already done so much damage to myself with all of the junk I’ve been eating on this trip so far.

“She’d be furious if she ever found out that I was badmouthing her, but right now, I don’t care. The other day, you asked me why I never sing, and that’s her fault, too. I’ve wanted to be in musicals for as long as I can remember. I love them. I love the way that they make me feel, and I wanted nothing more than to provide other people with that same feeling. But then I was eleven, and I was singing along to whatever musical it was that I was obsessed with at the time, and my mother came in my room specifically to tell me that I had a very unpleasant voice, and I needed to stop doing that because it was never going to get me anywhere. So I did.

“I did everything she told me to. I joined cheerleading because she said that was something that I was better skilled for. I dated the boy that she wanted me to date. I became friends with the people that she wanted me to be friends with, and now pretty much all of them don’t even talk to me anymore because they sided with that boy during our breakup. The only thing I haven’t gone along with is cutting Eddie out of my life. I’d be a truly miserable person without him, and I won’t let her take him away from me, too.

“It’s like she’ll never be happy if I’m not miserable though. She picks and she picks and she picks until I feel so small that I just go along with whatever she says because that’s easier than standing up for myself while she takes away everything that has the potential to make me happy. And even if I do everything that she wants, I’ll never be good enough for her. She’ll never be proud of me.”

Chrissy hugged her knees closer to her chest and willed herself not to cry anymore. Letting all of that out had felt good in the moment, but now she was embarrassed that she’d word vomited on Steve and let him see through the cracks of the imperfect mask she wore.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I don’t talk about this with anybody, and I just dumped all of that on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s clearly something you needed to get out, and I’m glad I could be here for you.”

“Thank you.”

He might have seemed calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside, he could feel the anger building in his chest. Chrissy deserved better than that, and he had no way of fixing this. He didn’t know if it was something that really could be fixed.

But he understood how she felt. Her situation was different from his, but it pained him how much he related to her. So, while he couldn’t fix the hurt that she was feeling, maybe he could show her that she wasn’t alone.

“You know, your mom’s voice will get quieter eventually,” he told her. “Once you’re spending less time with her and more time with people who care about you and see the best in you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you and I are more alike than you think.”

He smiled at her, but she could tell there was something sort of bittersweet to it. There was a sadness in his eyes even though he was very clearly trying to be positive for her benefit.

“You know how I had that job at Scoops Ahoy?”

She nodded.

“Well, it wasn't exactly my decision to work there.”

“How does that have anything to do with the way my mother talks to me?”

“My dad and I have never exactly seen eye to eye about who I should be and what I should be doing with my life. I'm the family disappointment, too. I grew up knowing that I was never going to be good enough to be the man that he expected me to be. That's just how it was in my house, you know? I was always a problem because I didn't anticipate exactly what he wanted. Being on the basketball team or the swim team wasn't good enough unless I was the captain and did the best or the most in every single game. And even then, I still wasn't good enough. I could have scored the game winning point, and he would have complained that we didn't win by enough, which was obviously my fault because I didn't score enough. Stupid stuff like that.

“So when I graduated high school with mediocre grades and didn't get into a single college, I figured he was going to be even worse than normal. By then, I'd gotten pretty used to tuning him out, but it still hurt. It still sucked to hear nothing but negativity from him. He didn't say anything about it though. Just hung up the phone when I called to tell him since he and mom were on one of their long business trips at the time. That almost hurt worse. Yelling and belittling me? I can handle that. I was used to that. But him being so angry that he couldn't even speak? That was a whole new level.

“When they got home, the house wasn't up to their standards,” he huffed out a laugh. “It's so stupid to me now that it's almost funny. It wasn't even messy. I hadn't put the recycling in the garage, and there was a basket of laundry I hadn't folded yet in the kitchen. Maybe I'd left a towel on the floor or something, too. I don't really remember. I just know that he acted like I'd burnt the house to the ground instead of it actually looking a little lived in for once. He went on this tirade about how me not getting into college didn't mean that I could sit around the house doing nothing all day and wasting his hard-earned money. Told me that I didn't realize how good I had it and that it was about time for me to get a job and develop a real work ethic. Which is so stupid because I'd worked the past three summers as a lifeguard at the community pool, I was babysitting pretty regularly, and I was already actively looking for a job. I just hadn't found something yet. He didn't know any of that though. That would have required him to actually be present or to talk to me about something other than what a failure I am.

“Anyway, he made me apply for every single open job in Hawkins - even ones that I was in no way qualified for - and he made me put him down as a reference on every single one. That way he could bad mouth me to everyone who was interested in hiring me. He decided that the Scoops Ahoy uniform was humiliating enough, and that's why I ended up working there for the last year.”

“I'm so sorry,” she told him. “That sounds awful.”

“It wasn't all bad,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, the sailor uniform was awful, but at least it was comfortable. And I got to spend the year working with my best friend instead of in a boring office job with a bunch of mindless drones who kiss my dad's ass. The job was more for the humiliation than anything else, and he didn’t kick me out or cut me off, so I was able to save pretty much everything I made, so I'll eventually be able to move out and get my own place without using any of his money to do it. I'm glad that I never have to put in another shift there, but I don't hate that I had the experience.”

“Silver linings?” she asked.

“I guess so.”

There was more he wanted to say to her. Needed to say to her really. He was just afraid that he’d hurt her when she was already so vulnerable. It had to be said though, so he took a deep breath and huffed out a sigh before speaking again.

“The worst part about it was that I felt like I deserved it,” he started. “My dad has been telling me that I’m too stupid to make something of myself since I was old enough to understand what he was telling me. I was too stupid to get into college, so I was too stupid to work at his company or do any kind of job that wasn’t completely mindless. The only thing I was smart enough to do was scoop ice cream. I still struggle with the lasting effects of my dad’s words, so I know that what you’re dealing with isn’t easy. But, when I’m surrounded by the people I care about, my dad’s voice disappears. It gets a little easier to tell myself that I’m better than that.

“That’s why it hurt so much when you were surprised that I was reading. I’m used to my dad and people who don’t know me or have made assumptions about me thinking I’m dumb. ‘Of course, Steve Harrington can’t read. He’s just a dumb jock. He probably doesn’t even know what books are.’ But I thought that you and I had really been connecting with each other. That you’d seen past all of that and I could be real with you. So, it really stung knowing that you saw me as that stupid, and it reinforced the fact that maybe there is a little bit of truth to everything my dad has said over the years.”

Chrissy’s heart sank. None of that was true. She’d never once thought he was stupid, and she couldn’t let him think that about himself. She scooted closer to him on the blanket and grabbed one of his hands, gripping it tightly in her own.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “So, so incredibly sorry. I don’t think you’re stupid at all, and I’m sorry that I did something or reacted in some way that made you feel like you were. That was never my intention, and I would never purposely do something to make you feel bad about yourself. I will admit that I was surprised to find you reading, but not for the reasons you thought I was. Never for those reasons.”

Steve avoided looking at Chrissy and instead stared at where she was holding his hand.

“Why were you surprised then? If you don't mind me asking.”

“You’re just so different from what I expected,” she admitted. “I may not have officially met you until this trip, but it was hard not to hear stories about the King of Hawkins High just like I’m sure you heard plenty of stories about me. You’re so different from the person that I was led to believe you were, and the Steve that I’d heard so much about didn’t seem like a reader. Not because of how smart you hypothetically were or weren’t but because that just didn’t seem like a hobby you’d enjoy. But I think it's wonderful that you're a reader. I loved getting to see a side of you that not many other people have gotten to see, and I hope I didn’t ruin whatever connection we had. I would hate it if we couldn't be open with each other anymore because of something I did.

“And, for the record, there are a lot of things that are far more important than being the smartest person in the room. You're funny, you're so incredibly kind, and you care about people with your whole heart. I mean, just look at how much time you've spent taking pictures of a squirrel figurine just because you know how happy it's going to make your friend. You're so selfless, and I see you putting everyone else's needs above your own constantly. You've been doing that with me this whole trip.

“I know I haven't known you for very long, but anyone who spends five minutes with you can see that you're the very best kind of person, and your dad is a fucking idiot if he can't realize that.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. Partially because of how touched he was by what Chrissy had said and partially because he was pretty sure the strongest curse word he'd heard her say so far was “darn,” so he hadn't been expecting such a forceful statement from her.

“Thank you,” he finally said as he gave her hand a small squeeze. “Now, you say the same thing about your mom.”

She shook her head.

“I can't.”

“Yes, you can. Your mom is clearly a fucking idiot if she can't see that you're perfect just the way you are. I know it, and you know it. You just gotta get up and say it.”

She hesitated and bit her lower lip before shaking her head again.

“I really can't.”

“C'mon,” he said as he poked at her side with his free hand, smirking when she giggled and tried fidgeting away from him a little. “You'll feel so much better if you get up and yell it. She'll never find out because she's not here to hear you say it, and I'll hold your hand the entire time if you want.”

He moved to stand and then offered her his hand to help her up. She let him pull her to her feet, and soon they were standing together hand in hand.

“I'm right here,” he told her, giving her hand a small squeeze. “You don't have to do this alone.”

Chrissy nodded and took a deep breath as she turned to face the shoreline. She could do this. She knew she could do this. With Steve by her side, she could do anything. Everything would be okay.

“My mother is a fucking idiot!” she yelled out at the horizon. Her eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth with her free hand. She was silent for a moment, but when she moved her hand away, Steve could see that it had been hiding the largest smile.

“I did it. I can't believe I did it,” she said as she turned to face him.

“You did.”

Chrissy dropped Steve's hand before practically leaping at him to wrap her arms around his neck. He caught her and wrapped his arms around her waist, but the force of her body colliding with his knocked him off balance on the uneven ground, and soon they were falling backwards into the sand. He landed flat on his back with her directly on top of him, and after the shock wore off, they both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“I'm so sorry,” she said through her laughter. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“I'm okay. Are you?”

“Never better.”

Neither of them made any moves to get up or separate their bodies from each other. One of his hands was resting against the small of her back, and she felt so seen as he looked into her eyes. With their bodies pressed together like that, she could feel his chest moving with every breath he took, and she was certain that he could feel the way her heart was pounding against her ribcage. If there was ever a moment for her to kiss him and finally express that she was interested in him the way that she hoped he was interested in her, now was the time. She just had to make her move.

He reached up to brush her hair back behind her ear as she leaned in, and just as their lips were about to touch -

“Chrissy! Steve!” Eddie called out, effectively ruining their moment.

Steve cursed internally as Chrissy immediately moved off of him and tried to put a little distance between their bodies. Eddie had the worst timing in the world.

Steve tore his gaze away from where Chrissy was now hiding her face behind one of the sleeves of his jacket and looked over at Eddie who was carrying a very sleepy-looking Nancy on his back.

“Are you guys ready to head back to the motel?” he asked. “Nance is falling asleep on me, and I'm probably next.”

“Yeah, we can go,” Steve replied. “Just gotta pack up our umbrella and blanket first.”

“You good, Chrissy?” Eddie asked, finally noticing the way she seemed to be trying to get that jacket to swallow her whole.

“I'm fine,” she said without looking up at him. “Perfectly fine.”

Truthfully, she couldn't have been more embarrassed if she tried. She'd been about to kiss Steve after insisting that they were just friends, and now Eddie was never going to let her live it down. And the worst part was that she didn't even get to kiss him. They didn't kiss, the moment had passed, and she was afraid she'd never get the courage to be so bold again. Maybe, if she was lucky, Steve would take charge and be the one to kiss her, but she was afraid that their one perfect moment had passed them by to never be recreated again.

She tried not to dwell on that too much, but it was the only thing she could think of on the drive back to the motel, and it was the only thing she could think of as she waited for everyone else to be done with the bathroom so she could take a shower. That thought was surely going to consume her.

While Chrissy was in the shower, Steve headed out to attempt to find a vending machine so he could get them all a drink. Once he was gone, Eddie flopped over next to Nancy on her bed.

“Eddie, no,” Nancy groaned. “You'll fall asleep.”

“I won't,” he insisted even though his voice was barely loud enough for her to hear him.

“You will. And then where will Chrissy sleep?”

“She can sleep here, too. I don't mind.”

“No room. Get in your own bed.”

“Five minutes.” He buried his face in her neck. “I'll get up when she's done. Promise.”

When Chrissy exited the bathroom, Eddie and Nancy were curled up next to each other and fast asleep with him softly snoring as he held her caged in his arms. Chrissy would have thought it was cute if it didn't send her straight into a panic. If Eddie was sleeping in her bed, that meant she was sleeping in his bed. And, if she was sleeping in his bed, that meant she was sharing with Steve. Steve who she would have kissed if they hadn't been interrupted. They were going to be sharing a bed that had barely felt big enough when she was sharing with Nancy, and she was certain it was going to feel ten times smaller when she was laying next to him.

She cautiously sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to make herself seem casual even if her insides were in knots. She was just about to get up and go hide in the bathroom when Steve reentered their room.

“I came out of the bathroom, and they were like that,” she blurted out before he could say anything. She didn't want him to think she'd planned this or encouraged it in any way.

“I had a feeling that might happen,” he admitted. “I didn't expect either of them to be up when I got back, if I'm being honest. I figured Eddie'd at least fall asleep in our bed though.”

“He didn't.”

“No, he did not.”

Steve moved to hand Chrissy one of the water bottles he was carrying before grabbing his pillow off the bed and tossing it on the floor.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Eddie took your spot, so you need a place to sleep. You take my bed. I'm fine on the floor.”

“Oh. I thought we could share.”

Of course, he didn't want to sleep next to her. That was too much for her to expect. He probably hadn't even wanted to kiss her, and she would have made a fool out of herself if they hadn't been interrupted.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked. “It'll be kind of crowded, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I'm not letting you sleep on the floor. I think we can manage just fine, don't you?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He grabbed his pillow off the floor and placed it back on the bed before climbing in and making himself comfortable. She followed his lead and climbed into the bed next to him after turning off the lights, but she tried to keep as much space between them as humanly possible. He had been worried about her comfort, but she was worried that she'd crowd him too much. She had a bad habit of clinging to anyone or anything that was sharing her bed with her. She could have blamed it on her being afraid when they were sharing the tent, but she'd never forgive herself if she made things even more awkward between them now.

Steve noticed that she was trying to put space between them and failing miserably. He knew what it had to be about because it was the same thing that he couldn't stop thinking about: she'd almost kissed him on that beach. He was sure that's what was about to happen. If they hadn't been interrupted, she would have kissed him, and he would have gotten to tell her how much he'd been wanting to do exactly that.

But that hadn't happened, and now they were in this weird limbo where they didn't know how to talk to each other anymore because that missed moment was hanging over them. He was afraid that the awkwardness building between them wouldn't go away until they'd actually kissed, and that definitely wasn't going to happen tonight. Not when Eddie and Nancy were sleeping in the next bed. But he had to do something so they could both relax.

“So, my Fozzie impression is nowhere near as good as my Kermit,” he said as he rolled over to face her. “But I can give it a shot if you're missing him.”

Chrissy shot up into a sitting position and playfully glared down at him.

“Are you making fun of me?” she asked.

“Oh, no. I would never,” he said with a teasing smirk.

Chrissy gasped and placed a hand over her heart in mock offense. The next thing Steve knew, she'd pounced and was tickling up and down his sides.

“Chrissy!” he sputtered out through his laughter. “Why?”

“C'mon, Steve,” she said as she continued her playful torture. “You wanted to be Fozzie, and Fozzie just loves to laugh.”

He tried to fight her off the best he could, but she was quick, switching spots around his torso whenever he tried to grab at her wiggling fingers, and it was hard for him to anticipate where she'd move next when his eyes were scrunched shut with laughter. She couldn't help but smile and laugh along with him as he flinched whenever she hit an especially sensitive spot.

Her hands traveled lower to squeeze at his hips, and he was finally able to grab ahold of her wrists and pull her hands off of him. His laughter died down, but his smile never left his face as he tried to regain his composure.

“This is adorable. Where else are you ticklish?” she asked, wiggling her fingers in his direction while he kept her hands trapped.

“No more. Please.”

“Can I have my hands back then?”

“Never. You've lost your hand privileges for being evil.”

“I'm a big sister. It comes with the territory,” she said with an innocent smile and a tiny shrug.

“Well, if that's the case, I should probably let you know that as an only child, I don't like losing at anything. Ever. Including tickle fights.”

Before Chrissy could protest, Steve was scrambling to switch their positions, and she was laying flat on her back with him hovering over her. He kept her wrists pinned with one hand and the other hand rested against her side. He made no moves to tickle her yet. Just held her there to build anticipation.

“And what if I said I wasn't ticklish?” she asked.

“I think we both know that would be a lie.”

He punctuated his point with a quick poke to her side in the spot that had her giggling and moving away from him earlier, and he smirked down at her as she bit her lower lip and squirmed in his grasp.

“Steve, we're gonna wake up Eddie and Nancy.”

“You weren't concerned about them at all when I was the one being tickled,” he teased with a flutter of his fingers against her side. “And since I was viciously attacked for offering to do something nice, I think this is only fair.”

He kept his touch teasing and light, just enough to make her start giggling and squirming, tracing patterns on her side with the hand that wasn't pinning her wrists. Truthfully, he just wanted to see her smiling. He wanted to erase any memory of her tears from the beach because he never wanted to see her that sad again. And if playing around like this made her happy, who was he to deny her a little fun?

Once he felt like he'd teased her enough, he released her wrists to make it a fair fight and started tickling up and down her sides much like she'd done to him. Her laughter picked up, but instead of trying to stop his hands like he'd done with her, she tried to tickle him back. She got in a few good pokes, but every time she tried to really get him, he moved to attack an exposed armpit, and soon her arms were retracting to try and protect what he was assuming was her most ticklish spot from the reactions she was giving him.

When he found a spot on her ribs that had her kicking her legs and laughing so hard that she snorted, she tapped out.

“Truce,” she managed to get out through her laughter. “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

Steve's hands slowed to a stop, but he made no moves to remove them from her sides. He just held her in place as she came down from her giggle high.

“I can't believe I snorted,” she said once she'd caught her breath. “That's so embarrassing.”

She covered her face with her hands.

He really wanted to kiss her.

Instead, he removed his hands from her sides and pulled her hands away from her face.

“I don’t know. I thought it was kinda cute.”

Chrissy was thankful for how dark the room was because she was sure her face was beet red. He couldn't call her cute when her skin was still tingling from the way he'd just had his hands all over her. She wasn't strong enough to handle this.

“We should probably go to sleep,” she told him.

“You're probably right. We've got another big beach day tomorrow.”

“I might even swim this time.”

“I'd really like it if you did.”

Steve rolled over to make himself comfortable, and without him practically on top of her, Chrissy finally realized how cold it was in the room. For such a crappy motel, they were really blasting the air conditioning, and the blankets on the bed just weren't cutting it. She didn't remember being this cold the night before, but she was pretty preoccupied with trying not to obsess over the fact that Steve was sleeping shirtless in the next bed. He was wearing a shirt tonight though, so she no longer had that distraction.

She started to think that maybe she wouldn't be so cold with Steve's arms around her again. All she had to do was get him to cuddle with her. How hard could that be?

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Is your offer to be my Fozzie for the night still on the table?”

God, he really wanted to kiss her.

Steve rolled back over and opened his arms for her, and she scooched over to him. She rested her head on his chest and draped an arm over his waist as she snuggled as close to him as humanly possible. As he wrapped his arms around her in turn, she immediately started to feel a little warmer. He was like a furnace, radiating heat and making her feel more comfortable.

Once she was fully settled against him, he leaned in towards her slightly.

“Wocka wocka,” he said in his best attempt at a Fozzie impression.

Chrissy gasped, and the arm that she had draped around his waist moved to tickle his side again.

“Hey!” he laughed as he grabbed her hand and pulled it away from his body. “I thought we had a truce?”

“My real Fozzie doesn't speak,” she said matter of factly. “He only snuggles.”

“My apologies.”

He gave her hand a little squeeze, but neither of them made any move to let go of the other.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night, Chrissy.”

And so the two drifted off to sleep still holding hands.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Eddie woke up to use the toilet, and when he exited the bathroom, the light illuminated Chrissy and Steve snuggled up together in their sleep. He wasn't sure if he was really seeing it or if it was just a trick of his still half asleep mind. So, instead of turning out the light and going back to bed, he crept closer and took a quick picture of them with his phone. He couldn't guarantee that they'd still be like that in the morning, and he needed proof that this had actually happened to show Nancy once she was awake. It was going to be a lot harder for the two of them to deny that something was happening between them now.

***

When Chrissy woke up the next morning, she was laying on her side with her back pressed up against Steve's chest. His arm was draped over her and holding her close, and as far as she could tell, he was still fast asleep. A quick glance around the room told her that they were alone, but she could hear the shower running, so she assumed at least one of their friends was in the bathroom right now.

Normally, she was a morning person - the kind of morning person who liked to get out of bed and start her day immediately to be exact - but she was content to laze about in bed for the entire day if it meant Steve would keep holding her like that. The longer she stayed laying there the more her thoughts started to turn on her though. Even if he was cuddling her in his sleep, maybe he hadn't wanted her practically on top of him the night before. Maybe his initial offer of being her Fozzie for the evening really had been a joke, and he hadn't actually wanted to have her clinging to him like that. She'd been far too forward with him, and he wasn't interested in her in that way at all. He'd tell her that himself once he'd woken up.

And her mother would absolutely lose her mind if she knew that her daughter had shared a bed with a boy. Even if it was purely platonic - which Chrissy wasn’t even sure if it was - she could hear her mother calling her a tramp and telling her that only a common whore shared a bed with a man that she wasn't married to.

The more she thought about it, the more she needed to get out of that bed immediately, but Steve was holding onto her pretty securely. She tried to wiggle her way out of his arms, but he just seemed to hold onto her tighter.

“Good morning,” he said as he gave her a little squeeze, settling deeper into their blankets.

And, just like that, all of Chrissy's bad thoughts washed away. There was nowhere else she’d rather be when she could hear the smile in Steve's sleepy, scratchy voice. Any doubts in her mind about whether or not he'd really wanted to cuddle with her vanished when he only seemed to snuggle closer to her now that he was awake.

“Good morning,” she said, rolling over onto her back so she could look at him. His hair was sticking out in all directions, and he was looking at her with the sweetest, sleepiest smile. Her heart melted just a little bit at the sight. “You sleep okay?”

“Best sleep of my life. You?”

“Never better. Thank you for being my temporary Fozzie. I kind of really needed that comfort after everything we talked about. Plus, you're really warm. Kept me from freezing to death last night.”

“I see how it is,” he teased. “I'm just an object to you. Making me feel real cheap here, Cunningham.”

Steve tried to act offended, but it was hard to believe that he actually was when the smile never left his face which only made Chrissy start to laugh.

“And now she laughs at me! I save her from certain death, and she laughs at me. I’m wounded. Seriously wounded.”

This made her laugh even harder to the point where she snorted again and immediately moved to look away from him.

“Okay, I think I need to get up now,” she said as she started to work her way out of Steve’s grasp.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m not ready to start the day yet, so you can’t be ready either.”

“But what if I wanted to get breakfast?” she asked.

“Nope. You’re trapped. How tragic.”

He pulled her to lay with her back against his chest again as he burrowed deeper into their blankets.

“Well, if I’m trapped, I guess I have no other option than to accept my fate and stay here,” she said as she made herself comfortable again.

“A wise decision really. And, for the record, I don't mind being your personal space heater. It wasn't exactly an unenjoyable experience for me either.”

“Good to know.”

With Steve holding her like that, it was all too easy for her to fall back asleep until Eddie burst back into their room from outside.

“I come bearing sustenance!” he announced, holding up a couple of white paper bags.

She wasn't sure how long she'd dozed off, but the shower was still running, so it couldn't have been very long. But with Eddie back in the room, she was starting to feel self-conscious about how snuggled up with Steve she was. He didn't seem to care though, and he made no moves to stop cuddling her, so that helped to quiet those thoughts. If Steve didn't care about how much Eddie was about to tease them, she could try not to care, too.

But the teasing never came. Instead, Eddie just sat down on the edge of the bed that he'd shared with Nancy the night before and passed one of the bags over to Steve.

“I wasn't sure what you guys wanted since you were still sleeping when I left, but I went to this burrito place around the corner and just ordered whatever sounded decent,” he told them.

Steve moved to sit up and Chrissy had to stop herself from looking visibly upset about the fact that he wasn't holding her anymore. She moved to sit up as well and took the bag from Steve when he offered it to her. When she peeked inside and saw the size of the burrito that was left for her, she could feel her stomach starting to churn. It was massive. Much larger than anything she ever would have ordered for herself. She could already hear her mother telling her that everyone would think she was a pig if she dared to eat more than a single bite of that monstrosity, and she wanted nothing more than to set the bag aside and nibble on one of her granola bars instead.

But then Steve was nudging her with his elbow. She pulled her gaze away from her breakfast to look up at him.

“Fucking idiots. Remember?”

He offered up a small smile, and soon the furrow of her brow softened as she smiled back.

“Yeah. Fucking idiots.”

And, just like that, she was able to enjoy her breakfast. Nothing bad was going to happen to her if she ate this breakfast burrito. She didn't even notice the weird look that Eddie was giving them until he spoke up.

“What was that?” he asked.

“What was what?” Steve answered.

“You know what. Anything you two wanna share with the class?”

Before either of them could respond, Nancy opened the bathroom door and poked her head out.

“Eddie, could you give me a hand here? My bikini top is twisted, and I'm having trouble fixing it on my own.”

Eddie pushed himself off the bed and made his way into the bathroom where Nancy immediately closed the door behind him. She was already fully dressed, and there were no issues with her top like she’d said.

“After you showed me that picture, I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to pester them about what happened between them last night?” she asked in a hushed tone. “They’re not going to tell us anything if you put them on the spot like that.”

“Well, you’re ninety seven percent of my impulse control, and you weren’t out there.”

“Okay, so how about instead of questioning them before they’re ready to tell us what’s happening, you text Robin that picture and get her opinions on this situation? She might have a better insight into whether or not Steve's really interested in her or not.”

“But I already know Steve's into her,” Eddie admitted. “He's just waiting for her to make the first move.”

“When did he tell you this?” Nancy asked. “Actually, better question: why is this the first that I'm hearing about this?”

“While we were camping, and I could have sworn I told you.”

“No. This is completely new information for me, and this changes everything. What are the chances that Chrissy makes the first move though?”

“Slim to none.”

“That's what I was afraid of. Group text with Robin?”

“Way ahead of you.”

All Eddie did was drop the photo he'd taken of Chrissy and Steve asleep together, and soon Robin was spamming them with messages.

Robin: !!!!

Robin: what?

Robin: when?

Robin: how?

Robin: details! I need details!!!!!

Eddie: don't know. last night. also don't know.

Nancy: but they're clearly flirting with each other

Eddie: and neither of them are willing to make the first move so it's physically painful to watch them

Robin: has he done the hand size thing yet? that's a classic move on his part

Nancy: no. not in front of us at least. but they've been holding hands quite a bit, so I wouldn't be surprised if he has.

Robin: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Robin: why is this the first I'm hearing about this?

Robin: I demand constant updates!

Eddie: any tips for getting steve to kiss her already?

Robin: leave them alone as much as possible maybe? they're both probably feeling pressured because of you two constantly staring at them

Nancy: I am not constantly staring at them

Nancy: eddie on the other hand

Eddie: hey! I don't stare.

Eddie: I occasionally observe to make sure my best friend is having the best vacation possible

Eddie: it's what she deserves

Robin: sure

Robin: just let me know when they kiss!

“So, what do you think?” Eddie asked. “Think we can manage to give them some alone time?”

“I have an idea for that actually. Get back out there and give me five minutes to tie up some loose ends in here, alright?”

“As you wish.”

Eddie made his way out of the bathroom and back into the room’s main area where he found Steve and Chrissy still sitting practically on top of each other in bed even though they’d had plenty of time to move apart while he was gone. As much as he wanted to continue pestering them about how snuggled up they were when he came back from getting breakfast, he was trying to behave and do as Nancy said. There would be plenty of time to question them later, so he focused on finishing his burrito instead.

“I know we’re supposed to stay here for another night, but I can’t stay in this motel another minute,” Nancy said when she finally emerged from the bathroom. “That bathroom is disgusting, and we need more space than this. I did a little research this morning, and I managed to find a bed and breakfast not too far from here that has two open rooms, so we’re staying there for our last night here. Make sure all your stuff is packed before we leave for the beach so we can deal with checkout now and never have to come back here again.”

Chrissy felt a little conflicted with this new information. On one hand, the idea of a cozy little bed and breakfast where she’d have more space and a shower that didn’t look straight out of a horror movie sounded heavenly after two nights in their cramped and dingy motel room. However, she knew that meant that her opportunity to snuggle up with Steve for another night was officially off the table. She knew it was silly of her to expect that they’d end up sharing a bed for a second night in a row since that hadn’t been part of the plan for the night before in the first place, but she was still somewhat hopeful that Eddie would have fallen asleep in the wrong bed again to give her another chance.

“Sounds great,” Steve said before turning towards Chrissy. “Do you want the bathroom next, or should I go first?”

“You go first. I can wait.”

Steve finally got out of bed and gathered up the things he'd need in the bathroom. Once he was inside the bathroom, Nancy put part of her plan into action.

“I'm sorry you two had to share a bed,” she said as she started to repack her suitcase. “I told Eddie that he couldn't stay with me, but I fell asleep and couldn't stop him from doing the same.”

“That's okay,” Chrissy told her. “We didn't mind.”

“Still. It wasn't really fair to you. I know how small these beds are, and it couldn’t have been comfortable for either of you.”

Chrissy remained quiet. Part of her wanted to talk about last night with Nancy. Getting another woman’s opinion on the situation sounded so appealing to her, and maybe she’d have advice on how to proceed. The issue was that she didn’t want to talk about this in front of Eddie. She loved her best friend. Honestly, she did. There was nothing about him that she’d ever want to change, but she knew him. She knew that he would tease her about this, and that wasn’t what she needed when she was so unsure about how she was feeling and whether or not she was making a fool of herself right now.

Almost as if she could read the uncertainty on Chrissy’s face, Nancy turned her attention towards her boyfriend where he was lounging on the bed and finishing off his burrito.

“Do you mind going to get us something to drink? Maybe just some water bottles from the vending machine? Please?” she asked him.

“I thought you wanted me to pack my stuff?”

“Well, you aren’t packing right now, and I would be very grateful if you gave us the opportunity to have a little private girl talk.”

Eddie glanced back and forth between the two for a moment before pushing himself up from the bed and heading towards the door.  

“You’re lucky I love you,” he said. “Both of you.”

“Thank you,” Nancy called after him as he left.

She waited until she was sure that Eddie was gone and made sure she could hear the shower running to be sure that Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them either before turning her attention back towards Chrissy.

“Steve didn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, did he?” she asked as she moved to sit down next to her. “Because I’ll go in that bathroom and strangle him right now if he took advantage of you or forced you to snuggle up to him like that. Just say the word, and I’ll do it.”

“It wasn't like that,” Chrissy insisted. “Steve was very much a gentleman. Honest.”

“Okay, good. Because I really would have strangled him if that wasn't the case. Can I ask you something else then?”

Chrissy nodded.

“If he was such a gentleman, why did you get so quiet when I brought up the beds?”

“I just didn't want Eddie to tease me.”

“Why would he have teased you?”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“You know, I really want us to be friends,” Nancy said as she considered Chrissy's question. “Of course, we've technically hung out together before, but that was always Eddie's doing. We were both there for him and not for each other. Other than Robin, I don't really have any friends that are girls, so when Eddie invited you to come with us, I was excited for the opportunity to finally get to know you a little better. I want us to be close, so you can absolutely be honest with me, and I promise I'll be honest with you in return.”

A smile lit up Chrissy's face. She'd never voice these fears out loud, but she'd spent a great deal of time afraid that Nancy only put up with her because of her friendship with Eddie. That Nancy only saw her as her boyfriend's annoying best friend and tolerated her being around for the sake of her relationship. So, hearing that Nancy actually wanted to be friends with her outside of the context of what Eddie meant to them really helped to push those fears aside. She never did this kind of thing with the other cheerleaders, but she trusted that she could share what was currently on her mind without fear of judgment.

“Well, if I'm being completely honest here, I'm the one who asked him to cuddle with me.”

“You did?”

“I did. I mean, he offered, but I thought it might have been a joke at first? But then I asked him, and he didn't even say anything. Just opened his arms to let me get closer to him, and he seemed to care more about my comfort than his own. It was very sweet actually.”

She stared down at her lap as she remembered the feeling of Steve's arms wrapped around her, and she couldn't help but smile at the thought. What she wouldn't give to fall asleep like that again.

“Chrissy Cunningham,” Nancy said with a beaming smile of her own. “Is that a blush I see?”

“I don't know. Maybe?” she replied.

“I think you like him.”

“I don't think that really matters. We barely know each other.”

“So? Do you remember when I interviewed you and Eddie for the school paper? For your production of Pygmalion?”

Chrissy nodded.

“That was the first real conversation I ever had with Eddie, and I knew I liked him by the time I left that auditorium. I felt terrible about it because I thought there was something going on between the two of you, but the feelings were still there regardless. So, I don't think it matters how long you've known him. All that matters is what you're feeling and whether or not you want to act on those feelings.”

“I'm not saying that I like him,” Chrissy insisted. “But, say that I do have feelings for him? Am I making a fool out of myself?”

“I don't think so. I've seen the way he looks at you, and I think that he could maybe like you, too. You just have to be willing to put yourself out there.”

“That's easier said than done. I've never just told a guy that I'm interested before.”

“You haven't?”

She shook her head.

“Jason was my first real relationship, and he was the one who asked me out. I've been second guessing a lot of that whole experience lately, so I have no idea what I'm doing here.”

“I don't know what I can say other than Steve is a great guy. He won't make you feel bad about yourself even if he doesn't feel the same way. I should know. I have firsthand experience with him.”

“Does that make this weird for you? Me asking you for advice on how to flirt with your ex, I mean?”

“Steve and I weren't right for each other, and it was never going to work out between us. Maybe if this had happened right after we broke up, I'd feel differently, but I view him the same way that I view my younger brother now. He annoys me to no end, but I can't imagine my life without him in it, and I just want him to be happy. If you'll make him happy, then I'm happy to give you a little nudge in the right direction.”

“You really think I could make him happy?”

“Yeah, I think I do. There's just something about the way he smiles at you. So, maybe just give him the opportunity to make the first move if you can't bring yourself to do it. I don't think you'll regret it.”

“Thank you.”

Chrissy didn't know what else to say. She might not have been sure how she would make it known that she was interested in starting something with Steve, but Nancy had effortlessly cleared away a sizable amount of her nerves about the whole situation.

“You're welcome,” Nancy replied. “Now pack up everything you don't need for the day. I don't want to spend a second longer in this place than I absolutely have to.”

With that, Nancy got up to finish packing her own things and get a start on Eddie's bags as well. Soon enough, it was Chrissy’s turn for the bathroom, and she found herself rushing through her morning routine to be ready as soon as possible. After the conversation that she’d had with Steve the night before, she was actually looking forward to their day at the beach. Her mother’s voice was still there - she knew it wouldn’t disappear completely overnight - but it was slightly easier to ignore it when she could recall Steve telling her that she was perfect.

So, when they were finally settled into their beach spot for the day, it only took her silently repeating that her mother was a fucking idiot to allow herself to take off her cover up and let other people see her wearing a bathing suit. Even if she felt a little self-conscious, she knew that her nautical themed bikini kept the parts of her that she was the most self-conscious about covered with its high-waisted bottoms. She could be brave about this, but she still felt herself freeze when Steve looked in her direction. As he approached her with his bottle of sunscreen, she told herself to play it cool. She could handle this. She knew she could.

“Mind giving me a hand again?” he asked, offering her the bottle.

She took it from him and helped him apply the sunscreen to his back again just like she’d done the day before. When she was finished, she handed the bottle back.

“Mind doing the same for me?” she asked.

She turned her back to him and pushed her hair over her shoulder so it would be out of his way. She tried to keep her cool as he took his time making sure he covered every inch of exposed skin on her back, but this was very different from them being snuggled up while fully clothed. Her skin was on fire with every little touch, and she hadn't realized just how large his hands were until could feel how much of her back they could cover at once.

After what felt like an eternity and still not enough time, Steve placed his hands on her shoulders and gave them a small squeeze.

“You're all set.”

“Thanks,” she said as she turned around to face him. “I appreciate it.”

“You're welcome. Cute suit by the way,” he said as he reached out to fiddle with one of the decorative white buttons closest to the top of her bikini bottoms. “I like the blue. It really makes your eyes pop.”

“Thanks,” she said, avoiding meeting his gaze. This was the exact kind of opportunity that she knew Nancy was talking about that morning. It would be so easy for her to just reach out and run a hand up his arm. She could smile at him and give his bicep a little squeeze. Look up at him and bat her eyes. Move a little closer to him and make it so much easier for him to lean in and kiss her. It would be so easy.

But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not there and not in that moment. Flirting with him while she was so exposed felt too intimidating. She needed a little push which meant getting some alone time with Nancy to get her opinion on how to proceed.

“So, are you gonna get into the water with us today?” he asked, pulling her away from her thoughts.

“I think so,” she replied. “But I was hoping to have a little girl time with Nancy first if that's alright with her.”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie said. “You already had girl time this morning. It's my turn. You can't have her.”

With that, Eddie grabbed Nancy around the waist and lifted her to run away from his friends and towards the shoreline with her giggling and shrieking the whole way.

Chrissy and Steve shared a look, and she backed up slightly when she saw the mischievous smile that lit up his face.

“I'm not sure I like whatever you're thinking right now,” she said as she took another step backwards. 

The smile on her own face betrayed her, and soon, Steve was lunging to grab her. He lifted her with ease, and she clung to him as he ran to join Eddie and Nancy.

“Don't you dare drop me,” she managed to get out between her giggles.

It wasn't lost on her that Steve was treating her the same way that Eddie was treating his girlfriend, and she could feel her heart flutter as he gently let her down once they were about waist deep in the water.

“Look who's decided to join us today,” he announced to the other couple. “And only slightly against her will.”

“I was going to come out here eventually,” she insisted.

“Allegedly.”

Chrissy splashed in his direction which only led to him splashing her back, and soon they were enmeshed in an all out water war with Eddie and Nancy finally allowing Chrissy to act like the carefree girl she deserved to be.

***

When lunchtime finally rolled around, the group sprawled out on their blanket with sandwiches and chips from a nearby cart. After a morning of playing around in the water, they were all ready for a bit of a break.

“What are you looking forward to the most about being in D.C. tomorrow?” Nancy asked Chrissy as she started to unwrap her food. “I realized this morning that we never really got your input about what you wanted to do on this trip, and I could easily rearrange our schedule to include anything that we left out that's on any potential list you have.”

“Oh, I don't really have a list. This is your trip and not mine. You don't need to change anything on my behalf.”

“Don't be silly,” Nancy insisted. “This is just as much your trip as it is ours. If there's anything you want to do, I'll make sure it happens.”

“It's fine. Honestly, I'm just happy to be along for the ride.”

Steve frowned. If they hadn't had their heart to heart the night before, he might have believed her. But, knowing the pressure she was under to be agreeable and not be seen as a burden, he had a feeling that she wasn't allowing herself to do something that she felt might be an imposition. He felt compelled to make her realize that she was allowed to want things, and he thought he had a pretty good idea on how to do it.

When they finished eating, Steve excused himself saying that he was heading to the restrooms. Instead, he went in search of a vendor he was certain that he'd seen earlier. He quickly found them and purchased a single seashell collection jar. With a scrap of an old receipt, a sharpie, and some tape that he had in the glove box of his car, he made a new label for the jar.

Once he was happy with how it looked, he made his way back to where he'd left the group, and he found Chrissy by herself.

“I think Eddie and Nancy ran off to build a sandcastle,” she told him as he sat down next to her. “I told them I'd wait for you to get back.”

“This is for you,” he said as he handed her the jar. He watched as she eyed the label.

“The Chrissy needs to be nicer to herself jar?”

“Whenever I catch you being mean to yourself, you have to put a dollar in the jar. Every single time until we're back in Hawkins. And that includes you insisting that this isn't your trip, too. You might not have helped plan it, but you're an important part of it. For all of us.”

She was quiet for a moment, turning the jar over and passing it back and forth between her hands as she considered what Steve had told her.

“And what happens with the money at the end of the trip?” she asked when she finally spoke up.

“Well, if I see you putting yourself first, I might give you a dollar back, but I was thinking that we'd put this money towards doing something fun together after the trip.”

“Just the two of us?”

“Yeah. Just the two of us.”

“Okay. I can agree to those terms. Do I have to put a dollar in for saying I'm just along for the ride then?”

“I'll let that slide since it was before I made the jar. I just want you to realize that you're allowed to want things.”

“You know I'm not used to that.”

“I do.”

“Then you also know how hard this is going to be for me.”

“That doesn't mean I'm not going to help you get used to it.” He reached over and took one of her hands in his. “You deserve to be a little selfish sometimes.”

Chrissy didn't know if she could be selfish and put herself first. That went against everything her mom had forced her to believe over the years. She was supposed to be agreeable and go along with what everyone else wanted or else nobody would ever want her. But then there was Steve who was giving her hand a little squeeze and smiling at her and telling her that it was okay to care about her own happiness. She didn't know if she could do what he wanted her to do, but when he cared about her this much, she knew she could try.

***

Once they'd finished another long day at the beach, they made their way to the bed and breakfast that Nancy had found that morning. Nancy pulled Chrissy inside with her to check in, leaving the boys to unload and carry in all of their bags from the car.

“Now, you can say no to this, and I won't be mad at all,” Nancy said once they were out of earshot. “But I was maybe wondering if you'd be willing to share a room with Steve tonight? We have a room with one bed and a room with two beds booked, so obviously you would get the room with two beds. It's not like I'm expecting anything to happen between you two, and I don't want you to think this is me putting any pressure on you to make that kind of move on him or anything. It's just that Eddie and I really haven't gotten much alone time on this trip, and I'd really like to have a night for just the two of us, you know? But only if you're okay with sharing with Steve by yourself. If you're uncomfortable with that, just say the word, and you and I can share like we originally planned.”

The idea of sharing a room with Steve was both exciting and terrifying for Chrissy. On one hand, she'd never spent the night alone with a boy with a before. Not unless you counted Eddie, and she certainly didn't since there was no physical attraction between them. It was different with Steve. She still hadn't built up the courage to make a move or even let him know that she was open to him making a move, and sharing a room with him definitely threw that door open in a way that she wasn't sure if she was ready for.

On the other hand, the idea of potentially getting to sleep snuggled up to him again was so appealing. And knowing that there were two beds in the room helped to calm her nerves because she didn't have to share with him if she ended up being too afraid to ask him for another night of cuddles. They could just be two people sharing a room. Nothing had to happen between them.

“I can share with Steve,” she decided. “I don't mind.”

“You're literally my favorite person right now,” Nancy said as she pulled Chrissy in for a hug. “Thank you. I owe you one, okay?”

“Don't worry about it. Just enjoy your alone time with Eddie.”

Nancy got them checked in just as the guys entered carrying their bags.

“Steve, you're sharing with Chrissy if that's alright with you,” she said as she passed Chrissy her room key.

“I am?” That certainly wasn't the sleeping arrangement he'd expected.

“The room has two beds, and she's already agreed to it. You're allowed to say no though.”

“If it's fine with Chrissy, it's fine with me.”

“Perfect. We'll see you two in the morning for breakfast then.”

With that, Nancy started to make her way towards her room pulling a very confused looking Eddie behind her.

“So, are you actually okay with this, or do I need to make you put another dollar in the jar?” he asked once the other couple was gone.

“We shared a bed last night, Steve. I'm past being uncomfortable with sharing a room with you. Besides, it'll be just like our first night at the motel. The only difference is that we don't have to share our beds or listen to Eddie snoring.”

“Fair enough.”

They made their way to their room, and Chrissy called dibs on the first shower the second Steve had set down their bags. She wanted nothing more than to wash the sand and salt water out of her hair and put on some comfier clothes, and she wanted to do it as soon as possible.

When she'd finished in the bathroom, Steve took his turn which left her to think about their sleeping arrangements. To her, it was clear which bed Steve had claimed for himself. He'd set his bags at the foot of the first bed, and Chrissy's belongings were set on the second. She could easily accept this and climb into her own bed while he was in the bathroom.

But Nancy's voice was in the back of her head reminding her that all she had to do was take an opportunity to let Steve know that she was open to him making the first move. And what better way to let him know that than to be sitting on his bed when he came back into the room? And even if he didn't make a move and all they did was cuddle like they had the night before, that was still better than nothing at all. Maybe it was a little bit more bold than she was used to being, but she couldn't let herself sit on the sidelines while her life happened around her. She had to take charge in the little ways she could or else nothing was going to change.

So, without giving it another thought, she climbed onto Steve's bed and tried to make herself look casual as she flipped through instagram stories on her phone. Forget the fact that she was a bundle of nerves about how he was going to react to this. She could be cool and casual.

When Steve exited the bathroom and saw Chrissy lounging on his bed, he stopped in his tracks. He hadn't been expecting that from her after she'd made a point out of saying that they didn't have to share their beds that night. Yet there she was sitting on the bed that he'd claimed as if that was the most obvious place for her to be.

He was almost afraid to comment on it because he didn't want to scare her away. So, instead of saying anything, he just grabbed his bags and moved them over to the other bed. Then, he climbed onto the first bed to sit next to Chrissy.

“I don't know if you noticed,” he started. “But I kinda thought this was my bed.”

“I noticed. I just happened to decide that I wanted this bed, too. And I believe I recall a certain someone telling me that I was allowed to want things.”

Steve let out a laugh and smirked over at her.

“Careful, Chrissy. First, you invade my tent. Now, you're taking over my bed for the second night in a row. I'm starting to think you might have some ulterior motives here.”

She could have told him that she was hoping he'd take the hint, but she couldn't bring herself to make that final push. Instead, she playfully pushed his shoulder which only led to him pushing her back, and soon they were in a full on elbow war. Then, Steve got in one perfectly placed poke to Chrissy's side that left her giggling and squirming away from him. The same mischievous smile from earlier lit up his face again as he turned his full attention towards her.

“You know, I never did get back at you for ignoring our truce last night.”

“You wouldn't dare.” Chrissy's eyes went wide as she started to curl in on herself in anticipation.

“Oh, but I would.”

He was poised to strike, but before he could, she started laughing without him even touching her.

“Now, this is adorable,” he said with a wiggle of his fingers in her direction. All he had to do was hover his hands over her and act like he was about to touch her to elicit a ticklish reaction from her.

“Cut it out,” she said between her giggles as she tried to block his hands.

“Cut what out?” he asked. “I'm not even touching you.”

“You know what.”

She squeaked as he feigned moving to squeeze her hips, and she curled up even more in a failed attempt to shield herself.

Meanwhile, in the hallway, Eddie was trying to listen to what was happening in their room.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” Nancy asked when she exited her own room and saw him.

“C’mon. Aren't you curious about what they're doing in there? All I can hear is Chrissy laughing though, and we both know Steve isn't that funny.” he asked.

“Not enough to be pervy about it like you are right now. Get back in here and leave them alone.”

Back inside, Steve was about to tickle her for real when he heard voices outside their room that he was pretty sure were Eddie and Nancy. He paused his playful torture and signaled for Chrissy to be quiet with a finger pressed to his lips before getting out of the bed and creeping towards the door with her following close behind him. He waited a moment to make sure he could still hear them before banging on the door which earned him a very loud “fuck!” from whoever was on the other side.

“Good night, Eddie!” Chrissy called out.

They heard Nancy apologize on Eddie's behalf, and once he was certain they were gone, Steve turned his attention back towards Chrissy.

“Now, where were we?” he asked.

“Well, I think I was thinking of taking a late night stroll.” She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to shield all of her tickle spots from him.

“Really?” he asked. “Because I was thinking we were doing something else.”

He didn't give her a chance to run. He was quick, and he was able to pick her up and gently toss her back on the bed before she even knew what was happening. She didn't try to get away though. She just laid there giggling in anticipation as he climbed back onto the bed.

There was a moment as he climbed over her where he was struck with just how well they seemed to fit together. It would have been so easy for him to just lean down and kiss her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't want the story of their first kiss to be that they were in bed and it just happened. Chrissy was special. She deserved better than that. And even if that wasn't the case, he didn't want her to think that he was trying to pressure her into doing something more. He could wait another day to kiss her. For now, he could be content with another tickle fight and hopefully another night of her snuggling up to him for comfort.

***

When Steve woke up the next morning, he was sad to find his bed empty. After Chrissy had surrendered in their tickle fight, neither of them had really been all that tired, so they'd put on a movie and ended up falling asleep cuddling again. But now, she wasn't in his bed, and he missed that warm and fuzzy feeling he'd had waking up next to her the day before. There was barely any light in the room, so he figured it had to be fairly early. Maybe she'd only gotten up to use the bathroom, and she was going to be coming back to snuggle up to him any minute now.

A quick glance around the room told him that wasn't the case. Chrissy was sitting on the window seat with her head tilted to rest against the glass. She looked deep in thought, and she was slightly illuminated by the beginnings of the sunrise. He didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful girl in his life. No one could ever hope to compare the way that Chrissy looked to him now.

He pushed himself out of bed to ask her to come back to get some more sleep with him, and moved to sit next to her on the window seat, but she spoke before he could make his request.

“I wish that we could stay in this moment forever.”

Her voice was barely even a whisper. So quiet that it made him question if he was actually supposed to hear her. He did though. He heard her, and he realized that he was wishing for the same thing, too.

So, instead of making his request, he opened his arms for her. She moved to sit on his lap, and he wrapped his arms around her as she leaned back against his chest.

Sitting there with Steve, Chrissy felt the safest and the most content that she'd felt in a long time. And, as they sat there watching the sunrise together, she knew what she had to do. Today was going to be the day she told him how she felt. If it wasn't painfully obvious to him already, she had to let him know. Before the day was through, she was determined to open her heart to Steve Harrington.

#cheerscoops #harringham #stissy #steve x chrissy #chrissy x steve #steve harrington x chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham x steve harrington #my writing #wyptif #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham