𓏵 𝙿𝙴𝙿𝚂𝙸𝙿𝙾𝙴𝚃 𓏵

you were sitting lazily on the couch in your bikini, watching some random movie you’d found lying around while you waited for your boyfriend to return when you heard the front door to your shared home open.

“babe!” steve called out, stepping inside and kicking the heavy wooden door shut behind him. “c’mere. i want you to try something.”

your brows furrowed in confusion as you got up, your socked feet padding along the wooden floor over to him. “hi, baby,” you smiled sweetly, pecking his lips and taking a seat at the high chair beside the marbled island. “what is it?”

he slid over a bag of colorful squares. “you look pretty,” he grinned, his hand lingering around your waist. “so i went with eddie this morning to run some errands and we stopped by that smoke shop he’s always talking about. he convinced me to get these little chocolates and they’re really good. you’ve gotta try ‘em,” he explained excitedly, taking one out and biting into it. he almost moaned at the taste. “so good. i thought it was kinda expensive for this little bag of candy though.”

you hummed as you picked one from the plastic, examining it with uncertainty etched in your features. hesitantly, you bit off one of the corners. it was delicious. “wow. oh my god. yeah, these are really good.”

steve nodded along with a proud grin. “told you,” he bragged, his fingers lightly digging into the bare skin of your waist while his free hand grabbed another piece. “you should come check it out with us next time. they had some other pretty cool flavors.”

you plucked another piece from the plastic and unwrapped it, popping it into your mouth. “mhm. i’d love to,” you said with a warm smile before gently poking at his side. “now hurry up and go change before the sun goes away and the water gets cold.”

he cupped the side of your head to bring it closer to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. “yes ma’am,” he quipped, grabbing a piece of chocolate for the road before jogging up the stairs to get changed into his swim trunks.

it had only taken an hour for the effects to start kicking in with him.

you’d been playing around, splashing in the water with him to cool off from the beaming sun, when something in his eyes shifted. the pretty brown was almost completely overshadowed by the black of his pupils.

steve was crossing the pool in a few, long strides. his hands were already sliding around your waist in the water, his chest pressing into your back as the pool lights rippled beneath the surface. you felt his breath hot against your neck before his mouth followed, open and wet, dragging slow kisses along your shoulder.

“stevie,” you giggled, twisting a little in his arms. “what are you doing?”

he didn’t answer right away. his lips kept moving, sucking lightly at your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver but not enough to leave a real mark. “just wanna hold you,” he mumbled against your collarbone, voice already rough. his fingers tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him.

that’s when you felt it—thick, heavy, and unmistakably hard pressing against your ass through his trunks. your breath caught in your throat. steve let out a shaky exhale and curled tighter around you, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“mmph. fuck… i need to be inside you, honey,” he whispered, almost pleading. “please. right now. i can’t—fuck, i’m so hard it hurts.”

he was fully rolling his hips into you now, seeking any sort of temporary relief. you had to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress the whimper crawling up your throat. “stevie, baby,” you breathed, feeling a similar heat start to burn deep in your stomach. “what if someone sees?”

“fences,” was all he could whimper out as his hands kneaded at the soft skin of your bare waist. the bikini you were wearing wasn’t helping his little predicament either. you just looked so fucking sexy like this. “please. just need to feel you.”

before you could answer, his hand was already tugging at his waistband. he shoved his trunks down just enough to free his cock, the length of it springing free in the water. one quick motion and he hooked his fingers into your bikini bottoms, yanking them to the side. the head of his cock nudged against your entrance, hot and insistent.

steve pushed in with one desperate thrust. a loud, broken moan tore out of him the second he sank deep inside of you, his whole body shuddering behind you. “oh my god—fuck, you’re so warm. so fucking tight.” his arms locked around your middle, holding you still while he buried himself to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix.

a choked gasp left your lips at the sudden intrusion, your thighs squeezing together and your hand reaching back to claw at steve’s thigh. you were entirely too full. “mph! baby— holy shit! fuck!”

he didn’t wait. his hips started rocking immediately, short, needy thrusts that made the water softly splash around you. one hand slid up to cup your breast through your top, squeezing, thumb rubbing over your peaked nipple. the other stayed low, gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks as he fucked into you with frantic, hungry strokes.

“need you so bad, honey,” he panted against your ear, voice cracking with desire. “hmph! can’t stop. feels too good. you feel so fucking good around me.” his mouth found your neck again, sucking and biting between every thrust, completely lost in the sudden, overwhelming need to be buried inside you.

the chocolates have him wrecked—his cock buried deep inside your pussy, hips snapping forward in quick, desperate thrusts that send you jolting forward slightly each time. he’s moaning loud and completely carefree, whimpering your name like he’s losing his mind, every punch against your cervix harder than the last.

“fuck, baby— your pussy’s so fucking addictive,” he groans against your neck, voice trembling. “can’t stop— this pussy’s too good, shit, i need it, need you.” his hands are everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up to squeeze your tits, fingers digging into your ass as he pulls you down onto his cock over and over. “please—just fuckin’ take it, take all of me. just let me fuck this pretty pussy.”

he doesn’t wait for a response, not that you can really speak right now anyway. steve spins you around, lifts you easily, and carries you to the pool steps. he sits down on the lower step so the water laps at his waist, then pulls you onto his lap, settling your legs on either side of his thighs. his cock slides back inside your dripping cunt in one smooth thrust and he starts fucking up into you hard, hips driving upward while he drags you down to meet every stroke.

“oh!— yes! yes, yes, yes,” you cried out brokenly, clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to ground yourself. “feels so good, stevie. so— so big!”

his mouth finds yours in a sloppy, messy kiss—tongues sliding, spit mixing, both of you panting into each other. steve’s eyes are glassy, drunk on the feeling of your cunt squeezing him. “so fucking sexy,” he mumbles against your lips between thrusts. “can’t get enough of this pretty pussy. so warm and wet f’me. need to keep fucking you like this.”

every upward snap of his hips punches a moan out of both of you, his grip on your waist bruising as he uses your body to chase the overwhelming pleasure the chocolates have forced on him.

one of his hands slides down your body, fingers finding your clit under the water, rubbing tight circles as he keeps thrusting up into you on the pool steps.

“please, baby— cum for me, squeeze my fucking cock, i need it so bad,” he begs, voice hoarse and desperate, hips snapping faster. the pressure builds fast and you bite down hard on his shoulder when you finally cum, a muffled cry vibrating against his skin while your pussy clamps down around him.

he groans loud, holding you through it, but the need doesn’t fade. “there you go, baby. fuck— just fucking sucking me back in, huh?”

you’re practically limp in his arms now, choking out small gasps and whimpers each time he hit that gummy spot inside of you. you’ve completely lost the ability to speak as he fucks up into you forcefully.

“shit— holy shit, honey. i’m coming! fuck, i’m coming!” he pressed his hips up into you as tight as he could as his mouth came down on yours, hot and desperate, licking at your tongue and sucking on it hungrily.

soft whimpers spilled from deep in his throat, thick ropes of hot cum filling up your spent hole. you couldn’t help but moan into the wet cavern of his mouth when you felt just how much of the milky liquid was being pumped into you, absolutely filling you to the brim and beginning to leak out around him.

you pulled away for air, eyes blown wide and dazed as you looked at steve. he had the same look on his face with a lopsided grin to accompany it.

your skin began to felt too tight, your pulse pounding between your legs, and every brush of steve’s hand made you ache worse. you glanced at him again—his swim trunks still half down, his cock half-hard again already— and the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“stevie… shower with me?” you asked, voice small and shy even though your thighs were slick from the mess you two had created together.

he pressed a sweet kiss to your palm and tucked himself back into his swim trunks, nodding and taking deep breaths to get his composure back. “yeah. yeah, i’ll be up in a minute.”

you climbed off of him and slowly stepped out of the water on shaky legs, draping a towel around yourself. it was no match against the droplets of water running down your legs onto the polished floors. the second the cold air hit your sun-kissed skin, the desire sparked in the pit of your stomach again. only this time, it was so much worse.

it only took a few minutes for steve to join you in the bathroom. the second the door behind shut him and he stepped into the shower behind you, you turned to face him, pushing your dripping hair back away from your face and dropping to your knees. “woah, baby? what are you—“ his cock bobbed heavily in front of your face, already hardening fast. you wrapped your lips around the head and sucked him in deep, moaning at the taste of him mixed with pool water.

steve groaned loudly, one hand flying to the back of your head. “oh, fuck—baby, that’s it,” he gasped, hips twitching forward. you took him deeper, bobbing your head while your free hand slid between your own legs. two fingers pushed straight into your pussy, fucking yourself in time with the way you sucked him. he cried out when his gaze followed your hand down your body, watching the way it disappeared between your legs. “sucking my fat cock turns you on, honey? fuck! hmph! y’look so fucking pretty on your knees f’me.” wet, obscene sounds filled the shower as you fingered yourself harder, clit throbbing against your palm.

he was fully hard now, thick, warm, and heavy on your tongue. you slowly pulled off with a wet pop, spit connecting your lips to his cock, then stood and turned around. palms flat against the shower wall, you pushed your ass back. “need you so bad, stevie. please.”

he didn’t hesitate. he yanked your hips closer to his, lined up, and pushed into you in one devastating slow thrust.

“oh! yes, please! right there,” you cried out, forehead pressing to the tile as he started pounding. his hips snapped forward again and again, drilling deep, the wet slap of skin echoing off the walls. water streamed over both of you while he fucked you hard, one hand gripping your hip, the other reaching around to rub your clit in fast circles.

“god, you’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, voice completely wrecked. “pretty pussy’s taking me so deep— fuck, i can’t stop.” every thrust punched the air out of your lungs. he leaned over your back, biting at your shoulder, pounding into you with frantic, desperate strokes that made your legs shake. you kept fingering yourself even as he fucked you, two fingers buried inside alongside his cock, stretching you wider while he drilled harder and harder.

it was all too much. the stretch, the fullness, all of it. your hand moved instead to brace yourself against the wall. you clenched around him and his pace falters, his thrusts turning slower, deeper, each one dragging through your soaked pussy like he’s savoring every inch. water streams down his back while he presses his forehead to your shoulder, panting hard. “fuck… mhm, baby, i’m gonna cum again,” he mumbles against your wet skin, voice shaky and wrecked. his hips roll forward in a lazy grind, cock pulsing inside you as he fights to hold back. “feels too good—can’t stop, don’t wanna stop.”

he whimpers when you clench around him again, the sound raw and needy. “keep fucking yourself on your fingers, pretty girl,” he begs, one hand sliding down to guide your own fingers back to your puffy clit and pussy. “please, just like that— oh, wanna watch you stretch yourself while i’m inside you.”

you obey, sliding two fingers in alongside his cock once more, pumping them in time with his slow, deliberate thrusts. the stretch is filty and obscene, your walls straining around both him and your fingers, the burn sharp and perfect. steve groans loud, punching deeper on the next thrust, the head of his cock nudging right against your cervix. it still hurts—too much, too thick, too deep—but the ache only makes you hungrier. you can’t stop grinding back, chasing that painful fullness even as your body trembles from the intensity.

his thick, toned arms wrap tight around your waist, holding you flush against him like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “gonna fill you up so good, baby,” he whimpers, hips stuttering as he fights the edge. every slow thrust pushes his cock impossibly deeper, the stretch making your eyes roll back. you keep working your fingers in rhythm with him, the wet sounds of your pussy echoing off the tile.

his breathing turns ragged, his grip bruising. “can’t hold it—fuck, baby, need you to cum for me,” he mumbles desperately. the moment your orgasm hits, your whole body shakes, pussy fluttering and clamping hard around his cock and your fingers. steve cries out, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you, hot pulses flooding deep while he holds you tight through every tremor.

the shower doesn’t last long against the burning desire within each of you. he’s quickly turning the stream off and guiding you onto the bed with shaky hands, still dripping, his eyes glassy with need. he drops between your spread thighs without a word, pressing his mouth straight to your cum-slick pussy. the first taste rips a broken moan from his throat—loud, desperate, almost pained. he licks at you broad and hungry, tongue pushing inside to scoop out the thick mess he left there earlier, groaning into your folds like he can’t get enough.

“o—oh! stevie, so good,” you babbled mindlessly, your hands making a home in his damp hair. “mmph! feels so fucking good, baby.”

his lips seal around your clit, sucking hard while two fingers slide back into your soaked heat, pumping slow and deep. every slurp is wet and filthy, his tongue lapping at your entrance, circling, then thrusting back in to chase more of his own cum. he strokes himself with his free hand, fist tight around his cock, hips jerking into his own grip as he makes out with your pussy like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

“fuck, baby—your pussy tastes so fucking good with my cum inside her, could stay right here for hours,” he whines against your skin, voice muffled and broken. his tongue drags through your folds again, collecting every drop before pushing it back inside you with his fingers. he moans louder, the sound vibrating through your core, his nose bumping your clit while he sucks and licks like he’s starving.

you’re already shaking when he finally pulls back, chin shiny with your slick, breathing hard. steve crawls up over you, his cock heavy and leaking as he drags the head through your messy slit. the tip catches at your entrance every few passes, slipping in just enough to stretch you before he pulls back again. your eyes blur with hot tears, overwhelmed by how desperately turned on you feel, how your body clenches and weeps for more even though you can’t explain why.

“please,” you whisper, voice cracking.

steve’s forehead presses to yours, his breath shaky. “i know, baby. i got you.”

he finally pushes in, slow and thick, sinking all the way until his hips meet yours. the stretch punches a sob from your chest. he hooks your knees over his arms, folding you into a deep mating press, and starts rocking into you with long, deliberate thrusts. each one drags his thick cock almost all the way out before sinking back in, grinding deep against your cervix.

“holy shit. gonna get you pregnant,” he mumbles against your mouth, voice low and shaky. “wanna watch your belly grow with my kid. see these pretty tits get all big and full.” his hips roll slower, deeper, every thrust pushing his cum even deeper inside of you. “fuck—imagine how swollen you’ll look. how tight fucking tight this little pussy will get around me.”

you’re fully crying now, overwhelmed and so fucking full, tears slipping down your temples while he fucks you slow and steady. steve kisses them away, still whispering filthy promises between moans. “gonna fill you up every night until it takes, honey. keep you just like this forever—stuffed and leaking and mine.”

his pace stays deep and unhurried, the wet sound of his cock moving through the mess between your legs filling the room. every time he bottoms out you whimper, the pressure perfect and too much all at once. steve’s arms tighten around your thighs, holding you open as he grinds in slow rolls, savoring every flutter of your walls around him.

he leans down, sucking one peaked nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking while his hips keep that relentless, deep rhythm. “can’t fucking wait to see how these leak for me,” he groans, switching to the other side, completely enamored by you. “you gonna let me drink from you while i fuck another load into this pretty pussy? huh?”

your body trembles under him, brain completely mushy, tears still falling as the pleasure builds again, slow and devastating. steve’s cock drags along every sensitive spot inside you, the stretch constant and so perfect. he keeps mumbling between kisses, voice cracking with how much he wants it. “gonna breed you so good, baby. mmph. make you mine forever.”

the rain drummed a steady, comforting rhythm against the windows of the apartment, matching the throb of the pure agonyc radiating through your lower abdomen. you were curled into a tight ball on your bed, clutching a pillow to your stomach as if you could physically squeeze the pain away. your eyes were closed, your skin clammy, and every few minutes a fresh wave of cramps would ripple through you, leaving you breathless and miserable. you were sure you’d never experienced period pain this badly.

the sound of the front door opening and the rustle of plastic grocery bags echoed through the hallway. normally, you’d be the first one there, teasing steve about whatever snacks he’d bought or helping him put things away. matter of fact, you’d usually be at the store with him. but today, you couldn't even think about moving.

a few minutes later, your bedroom door creaked open. steve stepped in, still wearing his jacket, his hair perfectly swooped despite the rain. he paused, his brow furrowing when he saw you huddled in a pile of blankets. he dropped the bags full of snacks he’d picked up (because they reminded him of you) on the dresser and walked over, the mattress dipping as he sat down beside you.

"hey," he said softly, his voice laced with genuine concern. he reached out, brushing a stray hair away from your hot forehead. "you didn't come out and say hi. that’s not like you. what’s wrong? you sick?"

you tried to shift, attempting to put on a brave face, but a particularly sharp cramp hit you right then, causing you to gasp and curl tighter. "i’m... i’m fine, steve. just a little headache," you lied, your voice strained.

steve didn't buy it for a second. he leaned in closer, his gaze searching yours. "you’re a terrible liar, you know. and you’re shaking. just tell me what it is so i can fix it. do you need medicine? a heating pad? just tell me."

the sheer insistence in his voice, combined with the warmth radiating from him, broke your walls down quicker than you’d like to admit. you let out a shaky sigh, burying your face in the pillow. "it’s just... my period. the cramps are just really painful today. it feels feel like i’m being ripped apart."

steve went quiet for a moment. you fully expected him to get awkward, maybe offer to go buy some midol and leave you alone for the rest of the day. Instead, he shifted his weight, leaning back on one hand while the other rested comfortably on your hip.

"you know," he started, his tone remarkably chill, "i’ve heard that an orgasm can actually help with that. like, the endorphins and the muscle relaxation or something like that... it's supposed to kill the pain."

your head snapped up, eyes wide. you didn’t even know he knew what endorphins were. "what?"

steve just shrugged, looking completely relaxed, as if he were discussing something as chill as the weather. "yeah. i’ve... uh, done it a few times in the past. with other people. they always said it worked. it’s basically like a natural painkiller."

you stared at him, your face heating up. "and you're... you're okay with that? i mean, steve, there's— there’s blood and it’s really messy. it’s kinda gross."

a small, tender smile touched his lips. he reached out, squeezing your hand gently. "listen, after everything we've dealt with in the last few years, a little bit of blood doesn't scare me. besides," he added, his voice dropping to a sweeter, more intimate register, "it's natural. there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, especially not with me."

you felt a wave of heat rush to your cheeks, a furious blush spreading across your neck. you were completely mortified, but the pain was becoming unbearable, and the idea of steve— sweet, protective steve —taking care of you in such an intimate way was suddenly incredibly tempting.

"okay," you whispered, almost too quiet to hear. "yeah. okay. if you’re okay with this."

steve didn't waste a single second. he stood up and disappeared into the shared bathroom, returning a moment later with a thick, plush bath towel. "i’ll wash it later, don't even worry about it," he promised, his voice low and soothing.

slowly, you began to undress. every movement felt heavy; the pain had left you feeling sleepy and docile, your willpower eroded by the constant throbbing in your gut. steve undressed with you, his movements efficient but careful. as he stripped down, he paused, looking at you with an expression of pure tenderness.

“you’re sure you're okay with this? no pressure. if you change your mind, we stop immediately," he murmured softly.

you nodded weakly, sinking back into the pillows. he climbed onto the bed, sliding his body between your legs. he was so warm, his presence grounding you. being a naturally physical person, steve didn't just jump into it; he hovered over you, his chest brushing against yours.

“can i kiss you?" he whispered, his gaze flickering between your glassy eyes and pretty lips.

when you nodded, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. it wasn't a hungry kiss; it was slow, gentle, and filled with an aching sweetness that made your heart swell suffocatingly. you instantly folded under him, your arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer as you found a certain comfortability in his touch.

ashe shifted to move lower, his intent clear, you suddenly stiffened, placing a hand on his chest. "wait, steve— don’t. i, um… i’m just grossed out by the blood. i don't want you to have to..."

steve paused and looked up at you, his eyes soft. “it’s okay, honey. i won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. just tell me what you need.” he didn't look disgusted or hesitant; he looked like he wanted to devour you. he leaned up to kiss you again, a deep, reassuring press of lips that silenced your doubts further. then, he reached for the nightstand and rolled on a condom.

he used some lubricant he’d blindly found beside the pack of rubbers, also gathering the slick between your thighs, but as he positioned himself, he noticed the flicker of uncertainty on your face.

"hey," he whispered, pausing to gently push the stray pieces of hair from your face. "what’s wrong? talk to me."

“i’m just... i’m really uncomfortable," you admitted, your voice trembling. "not with you or anything, just in pain. please... just go slow."

“i will. i promise," he murmured, his voice a velvet caress. "do you really want this?"

“yes," you breathed. "please."

steve entered you with agonizing slowness. you bit down on your lower lip hard, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt him stretch you open. he was so bug and thick, and because you were so tense from the pain and the nerves, you felt incredibly tight around him. he let out a low, guttural moan against your shoulder, his muscles tightening.

“oh god, you're so tight," he groaned softly.

when he finally pushed in to the hilt, you let out a soft cry, your hands instinctively pushing against his lower stomach. his tip was pressing right up against that hypersensitive spot deep inside you, and the sensation was incredibly overwhelming. you began to squirm, your breath coming in short, jagged gasps.

“stevie! mmph... please, i’m too sensitive," you whimpered.

he immediately responded, pulling back until he was almost out before starting a series of slow, shallow thrusts, watching the sheer red liquid paint the condom. he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, whispering sweet praises. "you’re doing so good... just relax for me, baby... i’ve got you."

he kissed you again, but as the friction built up, you felt a sharp sting. the combination of being so tight and the uncomfortable slide of the condom against your sensitive walls became too much. a soft sob escaped your throat, and you tried to pull away.

“wait—steve, stop," you gasped through tears. "it hurts. fuck, the condom hurts... it's too much friction. please, can you take it off?”

he pulled out instantly, his expression one of immediate concern. “i’m sorry, honey,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “just tell me what you need. whatever you want. it’s all about you.” he carefully removed the condom and tossed it perfectly into your beside trash can. be didn't hesitate; he sank back into you in one smooth motion, letting out a long, low moan as he felt the direct heat of your skin. “holy shit.” his head fell back, his throat elongated and exposed as he sighed into the air, completely undone by how warm and soft you felt around him.

this time, it was different. without the barrier, the sensation was pure and overwhelming. he began to fuck you so sweet, his movements slow and rhythmic, perfectly timed to ease the tension in your body. while he moved inside you, he reached down, his thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles into your clit.

“that’s it, baby… just let go," he whispered, his voice thick with desire and affection.

you felt your climax approaching quicker than it ever had with anyone else. the pain in your abdomen began to fade, replaced by a mounting pressure that radiated from your core. it was a slow build, a gradual climb toward a peak you had never reached this intensely before. steve continued to talk you through it, his words a steady anchor in the storm of pleasure.

“you’re so beautiful, sweet girl... mhm, just like that... give it all to me," he murmured.

when the orgasm finally hit, it was explosive. you arched your back into him, clutching onto steve’s shoulders with white-knuckled intensity, your entire body shaking as waves of release crashed over you. it was genuinely the best orgasm of your life—deep, intimate, and healing in a completely unfamiliar way.

as you squeezed him tight in the height of your climax, steve reached his own limit. his breath hitched, and he groaned, his pace quickening slightly as he neared the edge.

"hmph, pussy’s squeezing me so good, baby. i’m gonna cum. fuck, where do you want it?" he gasped, his voice strained. "tell me where."

you were spent and floating in a haze of pleasure, but you clung to him, begging in a broken whisper. "inside... please, just come inside me."

with one final, deep thrust, steve let out a loud moan and came deep inside you, filling you with his warmth as he collapsed against you, both of you panting in unison. the heat and weight of his body on top of yours soothed the dull ache in your limbs.

Nights like this are so fucking boring. No one is home, none of your friends want to go out, and all you want to do is smoke. You check your purse, hoping something magically appears when you need it most, but you find nothing.

No weed in sight, and you need to cop some ASAP. 

The easiest way to do that would be to sneak some from your brothers. Unfortunately, they never let you. Plus, it wasn't like they were around anyway. They still liked to pretend you didn’t smoke, but they knew better. I mean shit, it was your fucking nickname.

The way you grew up, no one ever wanted to mess with you. 

“She’s a Saint bro, you don't want that smoke,” people would say after finding out who your family was. 

The Saints were your family’s…organization. They practically ran the Mission district in the city. Being around that life was all you ever knew, even if you tried to distance yourself from it as much as you could. Sometimes it had its perks, but it definitely came at a price.

A soft buzz from your phone saves you from your inner thoughts. You look down and see a message from your friend Rex.

found a guy you can buy off of tonight. he’s kind of sketch but his shit is strong as fuck. 

Your friend sends you an unknown number. You trust Rex's judgement, so you begin typing up a text.

rex gave me ur number. are u by the mission?

It takes less than a minute to get a response. 

meet by super taco. black beamer.

That was right down the street. It was lucky for you, and not so lucky for them. This area was Saint territory. If they found out someone else was dealing in their neighborhood, it’d be bad. 

You stick that thought in the back of your mind, prioritizing your high over anything else at the moment.

alr gimme 5.

Five minutes later, you’re walking down the street with cash and your phone in your pocket. The night is dark and the roads aren’t too busy. As you walk toward the meeting spot, you eye the black BMW parked along the street. It's an older model and it had seen better days. The windows are so tinted you can’t see anything inside.

You walk up, stand in front of the passenger seat door, and check your surroundings. Your hood is pulled up and your hands are in your pockets because it’s freezing cold outside. The bay breeze has a way of sweeping through the city at this time of night, and it brings you comfort.

The window rolls down partially and the smell of weed coming out of the car is potent. You look around once more before crouching down to peek inside the car. 

“Lemme get an eighth” you say, trying to get a glimpse of the person inside. You can vaguely make out a guy wearing a black hoodie and a black backwards Giants hat. 

Hes quiet for a moment before speaking. “60.”

“60?” You question. It’s a little high for what you’re asking for but you remember Rex saying it’s good shit.

“I might be willing to go lower if you roll one with me,” he suggests. You roll your eyes as far back into your skull as humanly possible. Typical fucking city dealer. Guys like this were always trying to get girls to smoke with them in the hopes of getting something more.

“Why the fuck would I do that? I don’t know you.” Your words come out intentionally pointed. You were bored but not stupid. Rex’s words echo in your mind, reminding you that this guy was pretty sketch.

“You could get to know me,” the guy suggests, leaning over so his face catches in the light of the nearby building. You finally see his face and are pleasantly surprised. 

He’s actually kind of hot. The only thing that distracts you from his practically perfect face is the bruise along his cheekbone. 

After catching a glimpse of him, you debate taking him up on the offer, but ultimately decide against it.

“Maybe next time,” you say, now leaning on the door. It comes out softer than your previous words. You pull out 60 bucks from your back pocket and hand it to him in one slick move. 

He slides a baggie over to you, “Is that a promise?”

“No,” you reply, stashing the baggie in the pocket of your hoodie. “What’s your name?”

“Chris. You?”

“Smoke.”

“No shit?” He asks, with a half smirk.

“I’m deadass.”

He chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “Alright, Smoke. I hope to see you soon. Offer still stands for our next transaction.” He adds with a wink.

“I’ll think about it,” you say, already backing a way from the car. “And by the way, be careful out here. It’s Saints territory. They find you out here and you're done.”

Chris scoffs. “I can handle them. Already have before.”

"Yeah? Is that where this came from?" you question, gesturing to where his bruise would be on your face.

"Nah, getting this was more fun," he says with a wink before rolling his window up.

You turn and start walking back to your house. However, the curiosity of his last comment lingers in your mind. You may have to do some digging on this Chris guy if you’re going to take him up on his offer. 

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket. You check, and a message pops up.

changed ur contact to smokeshow btw. whatchu changing mine to?

Laundry day wasn't the funnest thing in the world, but it was definitely necessary. After about a week back home, you had piled up quite a bit of dirty clothes.

So, you lug your basket of clothing, a coin pouch full of quarters and a stack of your favorite books into your dad's car. He was willing to drop you off at the local Wash & Dry before work and pick you up afterwards. While you waited, you'd get some much needed work done.

Even though you'd only been in town for a week, it felt nice to be back. It was a stark contrast to the life you left behind at Stanford. There, you felt like you had to put on a front. The academics came easy, it was the social interactions that drained you most of all. Unfortunately, even after four years there, it was still difficult navigating conversations with spoiled rich kids.

Regardless, you were going to start your master's program in the fall and there was still a ton of prep work you needed to get done before going back to school. The down time at the laundromat would be the perfect time to get some of it done.

Your dad drops you off and you get your first load of laundry going. It's a quick symphony of button clicks, door slams and the rumbling of the washing machine. There’s no one else there, which is understandable for 1pm on a Tuesday. While the machine does its thing, you situate yourself at a table, spreading your books and notes across it. You pull up a chair, plug your headphones in, and get to work. Around thirty minutes later you check your machine. On its final spin, you prepare the dryer for a transfer. 

When you reach for your coin pouch, you turn and spot a guy entering the laundromat. Even with a town as small as yours, you couldn’t recognize him. He looked to be around your age but you knew he didn’t go to your school. He was probably just passing through your town. After all, it was the type of place you drove through, not to. 

The buzz of the washing machine finishing snaps you back to reality, and you realize you were staring. You try to shake the slight blush off your cheeks, hoping the man across the room didn' t notice. You prop the washing machine open and begin transferring your clothes. After you insert four quarters into the dryer slot you press start. The dryer makes a questionable sound before sputtering to life. 

You then take a moment to grab yourself a drink before getting back to work. The vending machine has a limited amount of options, and as you mull over your choices you spot the guy across the room looking your way. When you look back at him, his eyes shift away. It leaves a small smirk on your face because you’re now fully aware the interest is mutual. You opt for an ice cold cola and grab it from the bottom of the vending machine before heading back to your table. 

Before you sit down, you hear the dryer make more questionable sounds before stopping altogether. You place your soda on top of the row of machines before inspecting the dryer. You open and then close it, pressing the start button again. It tries to spring to life before shutting down again. You sigh deeply, not wanting to wrestle with this machine more than you have to.

It wouldn’t be a surprise if this specific dryer was out of order. So instead of arguing with it, you decide to take the two dollar loss and switch to a different dryer. You do the same song and dance of transferring your damp clothes and press the button to start the machine. This time, it doesn’t even try to start. Instead, it just makes a high pitched buzz each time you press the start button.

“You huff again. “Seriously?” you mutter to yourself. You open and shut the dryer, slamming it louder than you mean to. You press the button over and over again. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

You’re down four dollars now, and you wonder if its even worth it to try a third machine.

“Everything okay?” a gentle voice asks. You lift your head from the machine to see the man across the room looking at you.

“Yeah, its just this stupid dryer. It’s giving me a hard time,” you admit.

“Let me take a look,” he offers.

“Oh, no that’s totally fine, I’ll just swit-” you begin.

Before you can stop him he makes his way toward your machine. He pops it open, rotating it manually and you try to ignore the fact that his face is mere inches from your washed unmentionables. He then checks the seal of the door, digging out additional lint that’s been trapped there. He shuts the door firmly and then presses the start button. The machine springs to life, now moving with no issue. 

“There,” he says with a half grin. With that kind of smile, it's impossible not to smile back. 

“Thanks! I thought I was going to have to fight the stupid thing,” you giggle meekly. 

“No problem at all. I’m Chris by the way,” he says, reaching his hand out to shake yours.

“I’m Scout,” you say, offering your hand. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Scout,” He shakes your hand gently. “Are you from around here?”

“Uh yeah! I’m just home from school for the summer, though,” you admit.

“Hm, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around town. Matter of fact, I know I haven’t; I’d remember a face like yours,” confesses. 

His compliment makes your cheeks heat for the second time. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around either,” you add. “I guess this town isn’t small enough.”

You both laugh. “Guess not.” he says.

The two of you spend the next hour or so talking and getting to know one another. You learn he’s also in town for the summer and that he goes to school in California too, Berkeley no less. After his machine buzzes to a stop he’s forced to take his own clothes out and begin folding. 

Somehow, you manage to keep composure and suppress your frustrated yelling; stomping on through the rain, which is now raining sideways— Are you fucking kidding me? — you count the blocks ahead until you’re back home. Two. Just two more blocks. Sure, they’re city blocks, so they stretch farther than the ones you grew up with in your childhood neighborhood, but you got this.

Thankfully, your bad luck decided to give you a breather, allowing you to make the rest of the trip home on foot without further frustration.

Walking down the quiet hallway of your apartment complex, you can feel and hear the squish of water in your shoes as you make your way to your front door. You can’t be bothered to care about the amount of rainwater you must be trudging in.

You’re crossing your fingers in hopes that no one's home, so you can cry and scream in peace; as you unlock the door, your wish is immediately denied.

“God dammit,” You murmur under your breath, stare narrowing at the lights on throughout the apartment. Sounds echo out from the TV, and you hope they’re loud enough to cover the door closing. You kick your shoes off, sighing in relief the overwhelming, squishy sensation on your feet is gone. You begin to shuffle down the hallway to your room, but, of course, you’re spotted.

“Hey! How was your— oh.” Steve’s peering over the couch, smile dropping like a ton of bricks when he sees how miserable you look. “What the hell happened?” He pushes himself over the back of the couch, hurrying over to you, and you throw your hand up in a stop gesture.

“Don’t even come near me, I’m straight up bad luck today.” You grumble, hoping if you joke about it you’ll feel better, but tears of anger just build up instead. “Also, I’m covered in water from god knows where, so you really do not want to be near me right now.”

Steve cautiously comes closer anyway, arms’ length, but still too close for your liking right now, so you step back. He wants to ask if you’re okay, but he knows the answer to that.

 Then he realizes you walked home. “Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve picked you up.” And honestly, you wish you thought to call him. You were just so overwhelmed with how badly today was spiraling, the last thing on your mind was reaching out to your roommate for a ride.

Too exhausted to explain that, you give a weak shrug. “I need to be alone for a bit, okay?”

Steve’s features twist into concern, wanting to help however he can, but he holds himself back; the best way to help is to give you space right now. With a nod and a sigh, he reminds you, “Just, uh, lemme know if you need something.”

You start making your way to your room again, murmuring “Thanks, Steve.” While your mind was elsewhere, you miss the way Steve watches as you head in your room and slam your door, causing him to wince.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎｡⋆˚ ☀︎ ˚｡⋆

An hour or so after you got home, you lay on your bed in your robe, not bothering to change into pajamas after showering just yet; you were just content you’d be relaxing the rest of the night.

And what better way to relax than getting yourself off after such a terrible day?

Opening the drawer of your nightstand, you grab your vibrator, focusing on the sounds outside your door. Whatever movie Steve had on seemed loud enough that you could hear the dialogue float down the hall. It was also loud enough where you could get away with breathy moans and small whimpers, so that was good enough for you to continue.

With a flick of a switch, your wand- a much cheaper, smaller version of the original- buzzes to life. Eagerly, you untie your robe and let it fall open, teasing along down your body with the vibrator before reaching where you needed it most.

Instantly, your hips bucked as the wand brushes up ever so slightly against your clit, jaw falling as your eyes flutter shut; the pent up tension from the day already begins to leave your body as pleasure consumes your thoughts.

“Oh, fuck,” You murmur, hushed enough that Steve can’t hear you in the other room. With one hand, you toy and tease your core as slick coats your folds, while the other comes back to your chest, pinching and pulling lightly at your nipple.

Effortlessly, your mind wanders to Steve touching you; this is normal lately, but you don’t have feelings for him. Not really. If anything, you just think he’s attractive, but you wouldn’t want anything with commitments. That’s assuming he feels the same way, which you’re certain he doesn’t, and that’s totally cool.

Who doesn’t think about their roommates when they touch themselves, anyway? 

In your mind, Steve’s hands are where yours are, nothing wild, just imagining how caring and gentle his touch would be. You’ve also thought before about how rough he could be, too. Nothing wrong with fantasizing about either, right?

Sometimes when you come close to finishing quickly, you edge or overstimulate yourself. You could feel the high within reach, toes curling as your back arches as you imagine him praising you with a typical “good girl”, encouraging you to keep going, to keep the toy against you after you cum. Brows knitting together, your mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape, breaths shallow while you’re needy for release.

You’re right there, just on the edge— The wand buzzes to a halt without warning. Your eyes fly open, pulling the toy back to your view as your chest heaves, orgasm fading away. Desperate, you flick the switch a few times, hoping it’d turn on again, but nothing happens.

 “No, no, no,” You can feel the tension build up again, rageful tears ready to burst in record time. Normally, you’d just be annoyed by your vibrator dying just before you climax, but after today, this is the final straw. As you dump the batteries out, you wonder when the last time you changed them was. You can’t remember. Figures.

Batteries. We have some in the junk drawer of the kitchen. You’re quick to tie your robe closed before darting down the hall. The movie’s still playing as you pass the living room, but Steve’s in the kitchen. Oh, come the fuck on.

Ignoring him as he searches the fridge for a snack, you round the island counter, making a beeline for the junk drawer. Yanking it open, Steve spins around, looking perplexed. 

 “What’s up?”

“Not now, Steve.” You feel bad, but you’re desperate to get off. You were so fucking close, and that high is long gone now, but you just need to quiet your mind before the stress gets to you again. You’re tearing the drawer apart, pulling out old pens and half used notepads, rubber bands, a broken bottle opener- seriously? - spare string light bulbs, bookmarks, a pack of candy corn— who the fuck put this here? Ew.

Focused, you don’t notice Steve slide next to you, leaning against the counter. “What are you looking for?”

“Batteries. We had some, didn’t we? I swear we still had some left from that old pack.” You’re frantic, voice picking up speed and pitch the longer you fight off the tears. “We usually keep ‘em in this drawer right?”

 “Oh, I used the last few for my Walkman, I’m sorry. I’ll grab some more tomorrow—”

That shouldn’t be a big deal, but right now it’s the biggest deal in the world. “You what?”

“… I… used them?” Steve’s slightly afraid to answer, but still completely confused as to why you’re so wound up. His eyes flicker down to your fists, fingernails digging into your palms as they ball up, trying to keep your anger at bay. “Bu- but I can go get more! I’ll go right now.” He’s rushing for his raincoat and shoes, but guilt floods through you.

“Steve, don’t do that, it’s still pouring out.” You sigh, fists loosening up before you tug your robe closed tighter. “You don’t have to, I can— fuck. I can go tonight, it’s not a big deal.” The thought of getting dressed again and braving the storm makes you wonder just how desperate you are to get off. How pathetic.

Steve pauses in the doorway, hanging his coat back up. “It seems like a pretty big deal to you. What’s going on?” He makes his way back to you, and you’re pouting, arms crossed while you look away, hoping he doesn’t notice the way you’ve been trying so damn hard to keep the dam of tears from breaking.

“It’s— god, it’s so fucking stupid. I’m just overwhelmed by how terrible today was. Like, every fucking thing had to go wrong, and this is so dumb, who gets upset over batteries?! Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with me?” You don’t mean to start rambling, but once it starts, you can’t stop it. “Work was a nightmare, my car’s still getting worked on, this rain is horrible and my umbrella was here. Being soaked in street water has me grossed out still, and now that I’m home, I can’t even relax, all because of… batteries? Oh my god.”

Saying it all out loud helps a little, but it also makes you realize how deep today got under your skin. You leave out the part about not being able to cum, but that’s not something you want to admit to.

“That… sounds really overwhelming.” Steve gives empathy, but he’s not sure what else to say beyond that. So, he asks, “Are you sure you don’t want me to run out and get batteries?”

“Uh, no it’s totally fine, Steve. That’s sweet of you, but I’ll be okay.”

“Let me know if you change your mind, okay?” He leaves the offer open, and curiosity gets the best of him. “What did you need them for anyway?”

Your eyes widen, not expecting him to ask. “It’s silly,” trying to shrug it off, Steve, meaning well, persists.

“Hey, whatever it was, it’s okay to be upset about. You had a rough day. M’sorry I used the last few batteries.”

“Steve, it’s okay, really. I’m sorry I got upset, it’s not even the batteries, it’s— it’s nothing some sleep can’t fix.” Shaking your head, you brush it off, embarrassed you let something so meaningless work you up.

“I’m sure there’s something around here we can swap the batteries out so you can use them now, and we can replace them tomorrow.” He starts looking around the kitchen for something battery powered to steal the source form. “What kind were th— ”

He’s too sweet, he won’t let this go unless I tell him.

“Steve, don’t.”

“But if it helps you feel better— ” 

“Steve, stop. Please.”

 “Why?”

It comes out in an unintended outburst, “Because it was for my vibrator! Happy?” Your eyes finally meet his, and the heat rising to your face feels unbearable alongside the embarrassment. “I was— I wanted to blow off some steam, okay? It died while I was… y’know…And I can get myself off with my hand sometimes, but it’s not the same as toys or someone else’s actions. So… yeah.”

A rosy blush creeps along Steve’s face, enough to reach the tips of his ears; you know this never happens unless he’s embarrassed, or caught off guard, and right now, it’s both.

 “Oh. I- shit, I’m sorry for- you didn’t have to tell me.”

“You and I both know you’d still be looking for damn batteries if I didn’t say something.” You murmur, looking at the floor as you lean against the counter. “I appreciate that you care, Steve, but this isn’t something you can really help with. Unless you’ve got a vibrator of your own you don’t mind sharing.” The last part’s a joke, but Steve clears his throat, looking away.

An awkward silence falls between the two of you, one that’s quiet enough that you can hear the buzzing of the lights overhead, and the whirr of the VCR rewinding whatever tape he had in, finally at its end.

 “I… don’t, but I could still help… if you want.” Steve’s rubbing the back of his neck nervously. You think you misheard him, so you keep quiet, and he takes that as rejection. “But- okay, that was really dumb of me to offer. We can just forget about what I said.”

Glancing at him from where he stands, across from you, leaning against the island counter, he finally looks your way, afraid to say the wrong thing. You tilt your head, daring to ask, “You mean it?”

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” Steve chews on his bottom lip anxiously. 

Your mind goes blank, thinking about his hands on you the way you fantasize, answering with a raspy, pathetic, “Please?” Pushing off the counter, you start to close the gap between the two of you, but Steve meets you halfway, backing you up into your original spot.

“What… What’s off limits?” He has to slow his breathing intentionally, already getting turned on. He’s always wondered what you sound like when someone else plays with you, and he can’t believe he’s about to find out. 

“Nothin’.” You answer casually, and Steve opens his mouth to say something, but only silence comes out. You smirk, “What’d you think I was gonna say?”

He shrugs, “Thought you didn’t have much experience, that's all.”

“I mean… I don’t. Not really. I get too nervous to let most guys near me, you know that. The rest’s all my imagination, unfortunately.” You admit bashfully.

Steve’s hands grab your hips, nudging you onto the counter. “You’re not nervous with me, are you? Be honest.”

 “I- I mean kinda… but not in that way!” You’re rushing to clarify, hands up and waving away any doubt. “I’m just a little nervous, ‘cause you’re my friend. And my roommate. Oh my god, is this gonna make things weird?”

Steve chuckles while shaking his head, “Won’t be weird to me. Friends can fuck around too, y’know.” His voice drops low, hands on your thighs. You push yourself against the cabinets as he parts your legs, stepping between them. He looks down, noticing your exposed skin high on your thigh where your robe falls open. “If it’ll be weird to you, though, we can stop.”

Eyes wide, you shake your head furiously. “Not weird. Absolutely not… maybe a little. But not weird in a bad way.” Steve laughs, one hand sliding higher up your thigh, pushing the material away, exposing your skin.

Tugging the plushy material’s edge, barely covering your bottom half at this point, he asks, ”You’re not wearing anything under this, are you?” 

“No… I was kinda worried about something else other than clothes.” You playfully roll your eyes, and Steve pinches your thigh.

“Smartass.”

“You asked, Stevie.”

Traveling higher, his hand gently holds the side of your face, thumb sweeping along your cheek gently. “You tell me if you don’t like something, or if you want to stop. Got it?”

“Mhm, I got it,” Your voice is small, but clear while you watch Steve’s gaze flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?”

You answer by closing the gap, kissing Steve softly, lips working in tandem with a slow pace. It’s sweet, even when he parts your lips with his tongue; slow kisses like these always make you squirm, enjoying them but greedy for more.

When Steve pulls back, there’s a thin thread of spit connecting his lips to yours, breaking once he smirks. He kisses along your jawline, down your neck, taking his time between sucking softly and kissing slowly, almost too slow for your liking. His hands fly to your thighs, holding them in place from squirming.

Pulling back to look at you, he asks, “Do you get like this when you touch yourself?” You shake your in response.

“Well, no, this is different than just thinking about you—” You clamp your mouth shut, pursing your lips as your eyes widen. Steve’s smirk breaks into a cocky grin.

“You’re thinking of me while you get off?” His words are laced with a hint of an unnecessary ego boost. “That’s cute.”

“Sh- shut up,” Your breath shudders as he’s back onto your skin, sucking and kissing along your collarbone while slipping the robe off of your shoulders. The cool air along your exposed chest hardens your nipples, and Steve immediately leans down to latch onto the pebbled flesh; his tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, earning the tiniest squeak of a moan.

 “Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself,” Steve murmurs against the swell of your breast, kissing lazily across your chest to switch sides, repeating his motions. 

“Um… oh,” You’re arching your back, pushing your chest into Steve’s face. He keeps a pattern of sucking, biting, licking, and it makes you dizzy. His arm snakes around your side to your back, holding you steady. “I told you wh- what I think about.”

“No, tell me what you think about me doing to you,” Steve clarifies, fingers toying with the nipple he’s not kissing, pinching and rubbing soft, slow circles. A whine leaves your lips, hands tangling into his hair. “Jesus, you’re all hot and bothered just from this?”

“Uh-huh,” You rasp, unaware of how your hips roll forward, the ache between your legs only growing. “And I, um, I dunno.”

“Yes you do, don’t be shy,” Steve’s back to eye level with you, noses touching ever so slightly. Huskily, he asks, “What makes you cum when you think about us?” His hands are agonizingly slow as he starts opening the remainder of your robe, eyes meeting yours to make sure you’re still okay with this. You give a nod as your breath hitches, core clenching around nothing as you hear him whisper “Fuck.” under his breath, eyes taking in every inch of you.

“What?” You’re not self conscious, but you’re very aware this is the first time he’s seeing you completely exposed. Something about that forces your arms to cross over your chest as your legs close, but his firm grip is back on your thighs, pushing them apart. 

“You’re so fucking pretty.” Steve’s words grow muffled as he kisses you, again, refusing to rush things, but you can tell he’s a little needier than the first kiss. You whimper into his mouth, hips grinding yourself against nothing, desperate for friction. He pulls back to watch you writhe, smirking. “C’mon, tell me, babe. Nothing’s gonna happen if you keep those dirty thoughts to yourself.”

Fuck it.

 “I th- think about you teasing me slowly, like you’re doing now, making me wet a- and fucked out before you even really touch me.”

Steve’s biting back a groan while hands travel along your sides, fingertips grazing your skin softly as he reaches your hips, digging his fingers into the plush of your curves. “What else?”

“I like thinking about how, um,” You’re caught off guard by his hands moving closer to your cunt, resting on your thighs as his thumbs rubbing circles into them. He’s dragging it out, enjoying the way your breath shudders and you squeeze your eyes shut to focus. “How good your fingers would feel on me, in me, and how you- you’re— ” you stop yourself, feeling overwhelmed.

 “I’m… what?” Steve’s fingers again inch closer to your heat, causing an airy whimper to escape you. 

You rush it out, hoping it’ll dull embarrassment for you, “I think a lot about how you’d look between my legs.” Looking away from him makes it a tad easier to continue. “Thinking ‘bout how good your mouth would feel on me, but it’s hard to think about sometimes, ‘cause it’s not like I- I’ve got anything to base it on.”

Steve freezes, “Has no one gone down on you before?” You’re looking anywhere but at him, until he grabs your chin, gently pulling your attention his way. “Is that what you’re saying?”

 “Like, I bet it feels good, but yeah, no one’s done it before.” You’re reluctantly admitting, biting your lip anxiously. Steve presses his thumb on your bottom lip, softly pulling it from between your teeth.

 “Can I change that for you?”

 “Oh… I— you want to?”

 “Wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want to,” He reminds you. “No pressure, though.”

Enthusiastically, you nod, starting to push off the counter, but Steve again holds you in place. “Shouldn’t we do this somewhere else?”

As Steve drops to his knees, he hooks his arms under your legs, tugging you closer to the edge. He chuckles at your question. “We can do this anywhere you want.” He’s at the perfect level to reach you from here, licking his lips at the sight of your glistening cunt already.

 “Yeah, but like, people eat here.”

 “What do you think I’m doing?” He’s kissing up your leg, laughing against your skin as you roll your eyes.

 “Steve, that was the corniest thing you— oh, fuck.” He presses the softest kiss to your folds, glancing up to make sure you’re okay. From that small action alone, you shiver. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder before licking a slow, broad stripe up your cunt. You moan loudly, throwing your head back at the new sensation, but you slam your head into the cabinet. “Ow!”

Steve can’t help laughing against your skin; one hand of yours cards through his hair, tugging, while the other holds the back of your head. “Stop laughing— f- fuck.” 

“You good? Should we stop?” He asks, leaning away from your core as he glances up at you, making sure you’re alright.

“No, don’t, please don’t,” You babble, pushing him by the back of his head to come closer. Steve takes the hint, picking up where he left off. His tongue swirls and flicks at your clit, making your legs twitch. Once he starts sucking on it, your eyes roll back and you keen while your leg over his shoulder hooks him as close as possible to you.

“Someone’s greedy,” He teases before he buries himself back into you, sucking your clit again before tongue fucking you, making a mess from your arousal and his spit, pooling onto the counter beneath you. Steve slips a finger into you, curling it just right. You buck against him, and you swear he murmurs something like, “Taking me so well, honey.”

 “Steve, I- I don’t wanna cum yet, m’so close.” You plead, and that’s something he hasn’t heard before. He’s used to his partner begging to cum, but this is new.

 “Why not?”

 “I don’t want it to be over so soon,” You whine, grinding against his face and fingers. Steve hums into you, vibrations sending you closer to the edge. “But it feels s- so good.”

Speaking before he can think, Steve is quick to assure you, “This can happen again, y’know.” He’s sucking your clit, rougher this time, and you can’t see much past the tears building in your eyes from how intense the pleasure is. 

“Will it?” You’re panting, legs tensing up around Steve’s head. He slips another finger into you. “Fuck!”

“As long as you’re ‘kay with it,'' an obscene slurp follows his response. “Christ, you taste so good.”

“Uh- huh— ” A strangled moan leaves your lips, fingers curling around his locks before pulling roughly, while Steve doesn’t let up on his ministrations. Something within you snaps, and you’re gone.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes back, keeping your gaze on Steve who returns his to you, while somewhere between a sigh and a whiny moan, you’re crying out for him as heat floods your entire being. “Steve! Fuck!” He doesn’t stop until you physically begin pushing yourself away from him, overstimulated.

“So good, baby. M’so proud of you.” He murmurs into your thigh before standing back up. He leans in towards you, both hands cradling your face, but he stops. “You okay if I kiss you again?” You’re unsure if he asks because he’s worried to overstep a boundary or because his lips are soaked with your release. Either way you nod, tugging him closer by his shirt as you ball the fabric up in your fist. 

The two of you are noisy as you whimper into him, and he grunts when your tongue slips past his lips, tasting yourself in the process. You can only kiss him for so long before you need to pull back to catch your breath as you come down. Your eyes are heavy with the blissful exhaustion only found after an orgasm, while the dopiest smile graces your features. Steve can’t help smiling, too, resting his forehead against yours.

 “Please tell me that was better than the vibrator,” He’s joking, but secretly hoping it was better than the bliss a toy could give you.

 “Uh-huh.” You shudder out as your legs twitch, laughing at the sudden movement. It’s meant to be a joke, but Steve can’t help the way his cock twitches when you say, “You wanna be my new toy? I’ll throw that thing out so fast.” Eyes flicking down to his bulge, you notice the dark spot on his grey sweats, swallowing a moan. “You, uh, you want me to— ”

“Huh? Oh,” Steve looks down, blushing at his mess. “Nah, kinda too late to worry about it now.” He laughs it off but as he locks eyes with you again, he follows it up with, “… Unless that’s an offer for another time.”

This entire time, you’ve been shoving your feelings aside, the ones you thought were just based on superficial attraction, but his comment makes your stomach flip. “Yeah… yeah it is,” You try playing it off cool. “Hey, Stevie?”

Steve’s already grabbing a hand towel to clean you up with, touch gentle and slow. “What’s up, babe?” The pet name gives you butterflies.

“Thank you,” it feels silly to thank him for such a lewd act, but your mind is completely over how your day fell apart. “That… that felt really fucking good.”

Steve smiles warmly at you, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. Awkwardly, he responds with, “What are friends for?” You push aside how the comment stings your heart a little. Just friends. That’s it, and that’s okay.

You feel a smile form on your face—Chris is the only one who can do that when you feel like your life is a black hole. You walk off the plane and head towards the baggage claim. Once there, you look around. You immediately spot his brown hair and wide smile as he leans against the wall, sunglasses on top of his head and a black shirt on. He waves the minute he makes eye contact with you, and it makes you feel like you’re ten again, sunburned and racing each other on the beach until you’re dying from laughing.

He straightens up and walks over. “Well look who finally got here!”

There is no waiting with Chris. The minute he is close enough, he pulls you into a big hug, so strong that it nearly suffocates you. You laugh softly and squeeze him back just as hard.

“God. I’m so glad you are here.” He mumbles into your hair.

You just hold him tighter, tears coming to your eyes. He feels warm and safe, grounding you from all the chaos you went through in the last month. Just for a second, you let yourself believe that your best friend might just be able to fix what was broken.

Chris pulls back and looks at you, “Ready to go?”

You grab your suitcase from baggage claim and nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You both walk to his black Jeep. Chris, always being a gentleman, opens your door for you and does a goofy little bow as you get in. It brings out a giggle from you. As you buckle your seat belt, Chris gets in on his side and starts the car. He looks over at you and his brows furrow. He takes in your sad face, the dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep. His hand comes up and pushes some of your hair back. You lean into the touch. It’s comforting.

“Do you need me to kill him? I know how to hide a body.” He jokes softly.

“I would rather you didn’t go to jail for murder.” You smile.

Chris nods and taps your leg before backing out of the spot. “This will be good for you, Rowdy. I swear.”

The drive through the city slowly turned into a drive through a charming small town. It was beautiful. Cute houses lined the coast, people were walking their dogs and running. There were ice cream stands on every corner. It looked lively and happy. Everyone seemed at ease in this small town. It looked like nobody here ever had any problems.

Chris stops for a second and points at a stand that’s on the beach.

“That’s where I work in the morning. The owner is a grouchy old man, but he seems to like me.” He brags.

You pass by a pier, and it looks like some kind of fair is going on, kids and teenagers running around laughing and getting onto rides. It reminds you of the last time Chris visited you, when you took him to an amusement park, and he rode his first roller coaster. The memory brings a small smile to your face.

“See that diner? Best milkshakes ever. I will die on that statement.” He says in a serious tone.

“Guess I’ll have to try it out then, huh?” You look at it. It’s cute, very old school style. Somehow it brings charm to this small beach town.

Chris nods fast, “I’ll take you there one day this week.”

You nod silently in confirmation, your gaze still following the coast as you drive. Eventually you pull up to a beautiful two-story house. It’s yellow, with grey shutters, and it’s not right on the beach but close enough that you can skate to it if you wanted to. You see a group of people hanging out on the porch in the chairs, and suddenly your stomach twists. You were never the best at meeting new people. You’ve gotten better over the year, but the anxiety still buries deep inside you.

The guys and girls are gorgeous, all tan and well-built. You look down at your semi-pale skin and frown. You want to show Chris that you can fit in, that you aren’t the shy girl you used to be, but looking at all of them, you can’t help but feel how you do.

Chris parks the car and looks at you. “Come on, you are going to love them. They are so easygoing.”

You get out of the car and watch Chris grab your suitcase from the trunk. Taking a deep breath, you tell yourself this isn’t the city. It’s a new start. Be someone you want to be.

You both walk up onto the porch. The group goes quiet. They are observing you, trying to figure out who this random girl is that Chris brought home. He sets your suitcase down and puts an arm around your shoulders.

“Everyone, this is [Y/N]. But she also goes by Rowdy. Rowdy, this is everyone.” He smiles and looks at his small group of friends.

A tall, red-headed guy with freckles all over his body stands up first. “Hey, I’m Logan. If any of these fuckers say I’m mean, don’t listen to them. They lie.” You smile softly and wave to him.

A girl with bright pink hair wearing a faded band tee smiles and hugs you before you can think. “I’m Melissa. I heard you love to skate. I can’t wait to show you the skate park!”

You hug her back and grin. “That sounds really cool. It’ll be nice to have someone who doesn’t have two left feet on a skateboard.”

Chris looks at me, shocked. “Hey! I’ve been practicing.”

Melissa rolls her eyes as she releases you and whispers, “He still has two left feet on land.”

You giggle. Chris’s face turns bright red in embarrassment. “Hey, it’s ok. I still can’t surf for shit.”

Chris playfully bumps into you and laughs with you. You look around at the three of them, and there’s this small pit in your stomach. They have such easy confidence where you have to force yourself to have it. There’s a part of you that worries that you won’t fit in. That moving here will all be for nothing. You so badly want to find a home here, but the what ifs always get to you.

Chris can tell you’re overthinking again, so he gently squeezes your arm and whispers, “You’ll fit right in. I promise.”

Before you can even answer him, you hear running footsteps from inside the house. As soon as you face the front door, two bodies barrel into you. You laugh loudly as Nick and Matt wrap their arms around you.

“Oh, my god. Hello.” You say, hugging them back.

“We missed you so much,” Nick says.

“We didn’t think we’d ever see our favorite person again!” Yells Matt.

“I see we are still dramatic.” You pull away with a smile on your face.

Chris groans. “Let’s get inside. The neighbors are starting to look at us weirdly.”

Everyone walks inside, and you look around. The house is cluttered, but in a comfy manner. The boys have their shoes sitting by the door, beach towels are hung up on a coat rack, and you can faintly smell sunscreen and pot around the house. As you walk through it, Chris goes into the kitchen and grabs two glasses filled with lemonade. You take it and sip it slowly, letting out a soft moan of approval.

Chris snorts. “Assuming it tastes good? Matt made it this morning.”

You smile widely, taking another sip before answering. “This might be the best lemonade I’ve ever had.”

The others slowly come and join you in the kitchen. The noise level goes up a notch, then just resumes how it was before introductions. Melissa goes over to their radio and blasts some kind of indie pop music, Logan challenges Matt to a game of cards, Nick is offering you a piece of muffin that he found in the pantry, and Chris is just watching you take it all in stride.

You shake your head at Nick’s offer and settle beside Matt, nerves twisting throughout your whole body. Laughter spills around you, laced with inside jokes and memories you don’t share. You try to join in, but your smile isn’t reaching your eyes. You’re the outside right now, and that hurts. Still, you stay, not completely giving up on these new friends.

Chris keeps stealing glances your way, making sure you don’t feel left out. He comes over and watches the card game with you, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. His silent way of saying that he is proud of you for not disappearing into a room.

Later, after his friends leave, Chris shows you which room you will be in. It’s a medium-sized room with off-white walls. The windows are open, letting in the breeze and scent of the ocean. On your bed is a stack of clean towels and a necklace made out of seashells. It’s not how your room was back home, but it fills the empty space left by leaving it behind. This is comfy.

“The necklace is a gift from Logan and Melissa. They are really excited that you are here. They want you to feel welcomed.” Chris says softly.

You nod and feel the soft quilt that is covering the bed. They want you here, and that right now means everything to you.

Chris watches you carefully take it all in. “This is your house now, Rowdy. You’re safe. Do what you need to do, and when you’re ready to eat, we will go grill something on the beach, okay?”

Tears instantly fill your eyes at how kind everyone is. As Chris leaves, you sit on the bed and just take in everything around you. There is no loud city noise, no honking cars, no people yelling on the side of the road, and definitely no ex-boyfriend. You can truly feel safe and confident in starting over here.

That night dinner was filled with laughter and stories to catch you up on the boys’ lives. You shared some funny stories about getting lost in the city, while Matt shared a story about how Nick and Chris somehow lost their swimsuits in the ocean while surfing. Chris grilled the food, and it was delicious.

“I’m impressed. You’re cooking has seemed to improve since the last time you visited me.” You tease him as you all ate. All three boys laugh.

“Oh, be quiet. I was a great cook.” Chris says.

“Yeah. If you count almost burning down [Y/N]’s apartment as great.” Nick laughs loudly as Chris tackles him into the sand.

You watch them fondly. You really did miss all three of them, and being back here was like home. Familiar.

As you are cleaning up the plates and making sure nothing was left behind, Matt starts a bonfire. You throw everything away and sit next to him, talking quietly.

“You know, Chris was really happy when you said you’d come live with us. He never stopped talking about you after that phone call.” Matt whispers.

You blush. “He’s my best friend. I’d be stupid to not take the opportunity.”

Before Matt could say anything else, Chris came over and handed you a mug. Hot cocoa, you smiled. Every time you visited each other, no matter the season or temperature, you always celebrated your time together with hot cocoa on the first night. It’s been something you two have done since you were ten. You take it gently and smile.

“The tradition continues, I see.”

Chris hums softly and nods. “So it does. Welcome home, Rowdy.”

m yaps: Yay! First chapter is here!

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As always: Have a great day, be kind -M

He'd known this campaign was happening for weeks. When his agent had first mentioned it, Joe had laughed, convinced he was kidding.

He'd never thought of himself as the obvious choice for a campaign like this. He wasn't one of those impossibly sculpted Hollywood actors whose abs seemed to belong to another species. He'd always seen himself as... normal. Lean enough, sure, but hardly the kind of man people imagined modeling underwear on giant billboards. The idea that Calvin Klein genuinely wanted him as one of the faces of the campaign had felt surreal.

Then his agent had said your name and that was enough to convince him to accept the job. 

You were one of the biggest supermodels in the world and a Victoria's Secret Angel. The woman whose face seemed to appear on every billboard and magazine. He’d never met you before but he'd occasionally spotted across crowded red carpets. Somewhere along the way, what had started as admiration had turned into an embarrassingly innocent crush. 

Joe couldn’t help himself but thought you were breathtaking. And now he was expected to spend an entire day pretending to be your boyfriend while wearing only underwear.

But that wasn’t really the problem. After all, he was an actor and he knew how to pretend. It was his job. The problem was that he had somehow convinced himself that the second you walked through those studio doors, he'd forget how to function like a normal human being.

And unfortunately… he wasn't entirely wrong.

The studio doors swung open and you hurried inside, a pair of designer sunglasses pushed onto your head while an oversized Balenciaga City bag threatened to slide off your shoulder.

The room barely reacted but Joe stopped breathing for a moment. 

"I'm so sorry!" you called toward the production team. "Traffic was a nightmare."

"No worries," someone answered. "Hair and makeup are ready for you."

You thanked them before disappearing almost immediately toward the dressing rooms.

Joe had seen countless photographs of you — campaigns, magazine covers, interviews. You had always looked stunning but none of them came remotely close to the real thing.

Joe stared for half a second too long before forcing himself to look away.

Get it together, he thought. 

-

Nearly an hour later, the bedroom set was finally ready. Soft morning light poured through apartment windows while photographers adjusted lenses and assistants hurried around carrying coffee cups and garment bags.

Joe stood near the bed, the robe was draped loosely over his shoulders, his hands buried deep inside the pockets to keep himself from fidgeting.

Then you stepped onto the set.

Conversation around the room softened almost instinctively.

Your hair had been styled into effortless waves, your makeup natural enough to look almost nonexistent, and the simple black Calvin Klein set somehow managed to look more elegant than provocative. You wore the same white robe over it, tied lazily around your waist.

Joe forgot how to blink.

Jesus...

Beautiful didn't even begin to cover it.

Then your eyes found his. For a brief second, he considered pretending he hadn't noticed but he couldn't take his eyes off you. 

You smiled, genuinely and started walking toward him.

Joe's heartbeat doubled.

"Hi."

Your voice was softer than he'd expected.

"I'm sorry I disappeared the second I got here. I wanted to come say hi before hair and makeup kidnapped me but I was already running late and I didn't want to keep everyone waiting even longer.”

Joe blinked. He hadn't expected that. Somehow, he'd imagined someone with your level of fame would walk onto set expecting everyone else to adjust around her.

“Yeah, of course, don’t worry."

You extended your hand and introduced yourself, offering your hand with a smile. 

“Yeah, I know."

The words escaped before Joe could stop them. His eyes widened.

"I mean—"

You laughed.

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, already mentally planning his own funeral.

"I'm Joe."

"I know."

You grinned, shaking his hand. His palm was warm.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

"You too."

For a moment, neither of you let go. When you finally did, you smiled again.

"I actually listened to some of your music on the drive here."

Joe looked up, surprised.

"You did?"

"I did."

"I... voluntarily?"

You laughed.

"Very voluntarily."

Joe smiled. 

"I liked it."

Heat climbed into Joe's cheeks so quickly it almost hurt.

"Thanks."

"I mean it. You’re really good.”

He looked at you for a second longer than necessary. Then, before his brain had time to stop him, the words slipped out.

“Thanks. And you’re... really beautiful."

Joe's stomach dropped.

"Oh my God."

He squeezed his eyes shut for half a second.

"I didn't mean— I mean, I did mean it, obviously, because you are… beautiful. But I wasn't trying to reduce you to..." He gestured helplessly between the two of you. "I know that's probably the last thing you want to hear from someone you've known for approximately forty seconds, and now I probably sound like an idiot."

You were already laughing.

Joe looked adorably flustered.

"You know," you said once you'd caught your breath, “I think you worry way too much."

"I do?"

"A little."

You smiled reassuringly.

“It was just a compliment, Joe. You didn’t say anything bad.”

He exhaled. "Okay."

"I've definitely heard worse opening lines. And at least, you’re direct. I like that.”

Before Joe could find a response that didn't involve embarrassing himself again, the campaign director approached with a clipboard tucked under one arm.

"There you are," he said, stopping beside the bed. "Perfect. Let me walk you through today's concept."

The two of you turned your attention toward him as he explained the campaign.

"It's about intimacy,” he said, pointing toward the bed. "I want it to feel like we're intruding on a lazy Sunday morning between two people who are completely in love. You're teasing each other, laughing, touching. Nothing forced. Nothing overly posed. Everything must seem natural.”

Joe nodded, listening carefully. Or at least trying to. Because every few seconds his attention drifted back to you. The way you listened so intently. The slight crease between your brows whenever you concentrated.The absent-minded way you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

He caught himself staring. Again. 

Stop it.

When the director finally clapped his hands together, the room burst back into motion.

"Alright, robes off."

The words hit Joe like a freight train. He swallowed, hard, slow. Up until now, the robe had been a comforting barrier — a thin layer of cotton between himself and the vulnerability he'd been trying not to think about all morning. Suddenly, every insecurity he'd managed to keep quiet came rushing back at once.

I should've spent more time at the gym, he thought. 

He glanced down at himself almost instinctively, mentally cataloguing every flaw only he seemed able to notice.

Beside him, you untied the sash around your waist without hesitation, slipping the robe from your shoulders in one fluid movement before handing it to a nearby assistant. It was obvious you'd done this countless times before. You looked completely at ease.

Joe wished he could say the same.

He told himself not to stare but he failed almost immediately. His eyes drifted despite every effort not to let them, taking in the lines of your naked figure before he quickly looked away again. He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling impossibly dry. 

Then, he slipped off his own robe a second later, revealing the white Calvin Klein briefs and a broad, toned chest dusted with soft curls. You couldn't help letting your eyes wander for a brief moment.

Now you understood why Calvin Klein had cast him.

Neither of you said anything.

Instead, you climbed onto the bed as assistants adjusted the sheets and tested the lighting. Joe stood awkwardly beside the mattress, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His hands hovered uselessly at his sides. He looked as though he had absolutely no idea where they were supposed to go.

You watched him for another second before smiling.

"First time?"

He looked over.

"...What?"

"Shooting in underwear."

A sheepish smile crossed his face as he nodded.

"Yeah."

"I could tell."

He laughed nervously.

"Is it that obvious?"

You nodded. 

He glanced down at himself and chuckled.

You shifted a little closer, lowering your voice just enough that only he could hear over the bustle of the crew.

"It gets easier."

"It does?"

"Honestly?" You smiled. "It's not that different from wearing a swimsuit."

Joe considered that, swallowing. 

"I guess you’re right.”

"And look at it this way."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You're getting paid to spend the day next to a woman in nice underwear. Isn’t it every man's forbidden dream?"

A laugh escaped him before he could stop it.

"When you put it like that..."

"I'd say you're doing pretty well."

You tilted your head, studying him for a second before an amused smile tugged at your lips.

"Besides..." you continued. "Aren't you an actor too?"

Joe nodded, unsure where you were going with this.

“Yeah, I am.”

"So this shouldn't be that hard."

He frowned slightly.

"What shouldn't?"

You leaned back against the headboard, crossing one leg over the other as assistants continued adjusting lights around the set.

"Pretending."

He blinked.

"You just have to pretend I'm the most beautiful woman you've ever seen."

A teasing grin spread across your face.

"And that you're completely crazy about me."

Joe's brain stopped working.

For one dangerous second, every reasonable response abandoned him. He could have laughed or made a joke, playing along. Instead, the truth slipped out before he had the chance to catch it.

"...I don't think I'll have to pretend."

The bustling studio seemed to fade into the background. 

You looked at him, your playful smile fading into quiet surprise. Your heart skipped once. For the first time since meeting him, you found yourself searching for the right words.

Joe stared right back as he realized what he’d just admitted. His eyes widened.

"Oh."

His face drained of color before immediately flushing crimson.

“I—"

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, letting out a quiet, defeated laugh.

“I didn’t mean… That came out wrong.”

"You know," you said carefully, a smile slowly returning to your face, "you're surprisingly smooth for someone who claimed to be nervous."

Joe groaned.

"I'm really not."

“No?"

He shook his head.

"I've just accidentally confessed to having a crush on the world's biggest supermodel within the first fifteen minutes of meeting her."

"Relax," you said, your voice warm. "I promise I don't bite."

"I wasn't worried about that."

"No?"

"I was mostly worried I'd make a complete idiot of myself."

"And how's that going?"

He sighed dramatically.

"Still evaluating."

You laughed, surprised at how easy it was to tease him. There wasn't an ounce of arrogance in him. No carefully rehearsed charm. Just honesty, wrapped in awkwardness.

And it was... refreshing.

An assistant appeared beside the bed.

"We're ready for the first setup."

The director clapped his hands together.

"Alright, you two."

He gestured toward the mattress.

"Forget the camera."

Joe climbed onto the bed, instinctively leaving a respectful distance between yourselves.

The director immediately grimaced.

"No, no, no."

He waved a hand.

"I said you're a couple in love."

A few members of the crew chuckled.

"You've been together for years," he continued. “You should be comfortable with each other. I don't want fake poses, I want familiarity. You should be completely wrapped up in each other and don't keep your distance as if the other person were contagious.” 

Joe shifted awkwardly.

"You," the man pointed at him, "move closer."

Joe followed the instructions but he moved barely an inch.

The director sighed.

"Closer."

Another inch.

You looked down at the empty space, then back at him. You bit back a smile.

"Joe."

He looked at you. 

“Remember what I told you before? I don’t bite.”

A laugh rippled through the crew.

His ears turned scarlet.

"Come here."

Without waiting, you closed the remaining distance yourself until your shoulder brushed his.

His entire body went rigid for half a heartbeat.

You felt it immediately.

"You okay?" you whispered.

He nodded once.

"Breathing?"

"...Trying."

A quiet laugh escaped you.

"You're thinking too much."

"I know."

"Stop trying to pose."

"What do I do then?"

You looked at him.

"Just be with me. Enjoy the moment.”

He let out a slow breath.

The tension gradually left his shoulders, his posture softening. Without thinking, his knee brushed yours. Neither of you moved away.

"There," the director called from behind the camera. "That's already better."

He began shooting.

"You," he said, pointing toward you, "look at him."

You did.

"And Joe..."

Joe turned toward you.

"...look at her like she's the only person in the room."

That part, surprisingly, required no acting at all.

The camera and everything else disappeared from his mind.

The crew.

The lights.

The dozens of people watching.

None of it seemed to exist anymore.

All he could see were your eyes. They were even prettier up close, bright with amusement, but softer now. Curious. As if you were studying him just as carefully.

You held his gaze for a beat longer. There was something disarmingly sincere about the way he looked at you. Not hungry or performative. Simply... captivated. It made your stomach flutter in a way you hadn't expected.

"Joe," the director instructed quietly, "lift your hand and caress her.”

Joe hesitated.

"May I?" he asked, almost under his breath, making sure only you could hear.

The question caught you off guard. Other men would have simply done it.

You smiled.

"You don't have to ask."

"I'd rather."

Something warm bloomed in your chest and you gave him the smallest nod.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips barely brushed your skin.

He leaned closer. Close enough that he caught the faint scent of your perfume — vanilla and jasmine — and your lips were only inches from his ear.

Your breath caught almost imperceptibly.

It felt strangely private despite the crowded studio.

The director stepped closer, watching the monitor.

"This is good," he said. “But it can be better. I want the moment right before a kiss."

Joe's heartbeat lurched.

"Not the kiss itself," the director clarified.

"The anticipation."

He looked between the two of you.

"That little hesitation where neither person knows who's going to close the distance first."

You exchanged a quick glance. Then, slowly, you lowered your hand to the collar of his Calvin Klein briefs' waistband, stopping just at the elastic. You felt him him tense beneath your touch.

"There it is again."

"...What?"

"You freeze every time I touch you."

His laugh came out somewhere between amused and defeated.

"Can you blame me?"

"Maybe a little."

"I've got the world's most beautiful woman standing five inches away from me."

"Four."

"What?"

"You said five."

You deliberately leaned a fraction closer.

"Now it's four."

Joe swallowed.

"I'm not sure that's helping."

"I wasn't trying to help."

You held his gaze for another heartbeat before smiling.

“Cut! That was perfect!”

Joe blinked, as if waking from a trance.

"So... was that acceptable acting?"

You looked at him, unable to stop smiling.

"I don't know."

You let the silence linger just long enough to make him wonder.

"I wasn't paying attention to the acting.”

-

By the time the last shot wrapped, the studio looked nothing like it had that morning. The lights that had bathed the set in soft, golden hues were being switched off one by one. Crew members moved briskly across the room, rolling up cables, carrying light stands back into storage cases, folding blankets that had been scattered across the bed for the final takes.

The illusion of a cozy apartment slowly disappeared, revealing the soundstage beneath it.

You stood near the monitor, thanking the director and the photographer for the day. Then, your assistant handed you a bottle of water, while you already discussed tomorrow's schedule.

Joe watched from across the room.

I should probably go, he thought. 

He'd already thanked everyone. He’d shaken hands and changed back into his jeans and a faded navy sweatshirt, his tote bag hanging loosely over one shoulder, his metro card turning absently between his fingers.

He was ready to go. 

Instead, he was still there. His eyes drifted toward you almost involuntarily.

You were laughing at something your assistant had said, your smile as effortless now as it had been the first time you'd walked over to introduce yourself.

God, you were stunning. 

Somehow, over the course of a single day, you'd gone from the world's most intimidating supermodel to someone he genuinely didn't want to say goodbye to.

He rubbed the back of his neck.

Just ask her, he thought. 

It couldn’t be so difficult, after all. He’d done it several times before. And yet he had never felt so nervous before, not even when he had to get on stage to perform in front of thousands of people. 

Can I...

No, too formal.

Would you maybe...

Worse.

He sighed under his breath.

"You look like you're rehearsing a speech."

Joe startled.

His agent stood beside him with an amused smile.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

She glanced toward you.

"Mhm."

Then back at him.

"If you don't ask, someone else will."

Joe followed her gaze.

"What?"

She shrugged.

"She's gorgeous, funny, and she actually spent the entire day making sure you didn't have a nervous breakdown."

"...Thanks for reminding me."

"I'm serious."

She nudged his shoulder.

"Go."

Before he could talk himself out of it again, his feet were already carrying him across the studio.

You noticed him almost immediately.

"Hey."

"Hey."

For a second, neither of you spoke, the comfortable silence surprising both of you. Joe didn't look away. His eyes stayed on yours with a quiet sincerity that made it impossible to tell whether he was trying to memorize the moment or simply afraid that looking away might break it.

"So..." you smiled.

"So."

"You survived the day."

“Thanks to you."

You laughed softly.

"I told you it would get easier."

"You were right."

"I usually am."

"I've noticed."

He smiled, shifting his weight, gripping the strap of his bag a little tighter.

He knew it. This was the moment. 

Either ask or spend the next six months wondering what would've happened if he had.

He took a slow breath. "I was actually..."

He stopped.

You waited patiently.

"...I was wondering something."

"Okay."

His gaze dropped briefly to the floor before finding yours again.

"I know we've literally only known each other for a day..."

He let out a nervous laugh.

"And I know there's a very real possibility that I'm about to embarrass myself one last time."

You folded your arms loosely, unable to hide your smile.

“Uhm, this sounds interesting. Go on, I’m listening."

He smiled despite himself.

"I was wondering if..."

Another pause.

"...if you'd maybe want to get coffee sometime."

His words came out almost apologetically.

“No cameras this time."

He smiled.

“Or no one telling me where to stand or what to do."

You raised an eyebrow.

"No Calvin Klein underwear either?"

He laughed, the tension breaking instantly.

"Definitely not."

"That's a shame."

He eyebrows lifted.

“I think they looked really good on you."

A faint blush crept back onto his cheeks.

“Thank you, I guess.”

You tilted your head, amused by how easily he still blushed.

"I mean it."

Joe looked down for a second, shaking his head with a quiet laugh.

"I don't think I've blushed this much in my entire life."

“I find that pretty adorable.”

He groaned, covering his face for a second.

"Please don't make it worse."

"Too late.”

"...Way too late."

For a moment, all you could hear was the muffled chatter of the crew dismantling the set around you.

Joe rubbed the back of his neck for the hundredth time, his confidence wavering just enough to make you smile.

He cleared his throat. “Is that a yes then? Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?"

You looked at him for a beat, pretending to think about it.

"Mmm..."

Joe's stomach dropped.

"It's completely okay if you'd rather not. You don't have to—“

"What if we skipped the coffee?"

He looked up immediately, blinking. 

"...Skipped it?"

“We could go to dinner instead.”

For a second, he simply stared at you. Then a slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d love that.” He let out a small laugh, still trying to catch up with the conversation. “Dinner sounds… perfect. When —”

“Are you free now?”

His eyes widened, visibly confused. 

“Now?" He repeated. “Like right now?” 

He glanced around the studio, momentarily convinced he'd misunderstood.

You nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t know about you but I’m starving. I’ve been thinking about food since we wrapped the last shot.”

"Honestly? Same."

“I could really go for a burger.”

You paused for a moment, considering it.

"Or pizza. Actually, I could probably eat both.”

He laughed, the sound warm and effortless. 

"Now you're making me even hungrier."

"We've had a long day. I think we both deserved it.”

You looked at him expectantly as he was trying to process the fact that the woman he'd spent the entire day convincing himself was completely out of his league had just asked him out.

"I know a place," he said at last, a little more confidently this time. "It's about ten minutes from here."

“Good?"

A grin spread across his face.

"The best burgers in Manhattan."

You narrowed your eyes playfully.

“Careful. I take food very seriously.”

“Then you won’t be disappointed."

"What if I don’t like them?"

He pretended to think for a second.

"Then you get to pick the next place."

"Look at you," you teased. "Already assuming there's going to be a next time."

His smile softened.

"Well..."

He shrugged.

"I'm hoping there will be."

You smiled and gestured toward the studio exit.

"Lead the way. Let’s find out if you’re right.”

For the first time all day, Joe walked ahead of you without a trace of hesitation. Together, you made your way through the apartment and down the hallway, exchanging the occasional smile as members of the crew called out their goodbyes behind you.

When the building's front doors finally swung open, the warm evening air greeted you, carrying with it the familiar sounds of Manhattan settling into the night.

Joe couldn't help smiling to himself. That morning, he'd shown up on set terrified that he'd spend the day trying not to embarrass himself in front of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Instead, he was walking out of it with you beside him, on your way to dinner, feeling the luckiest man alive.

Neither of you knew it yet but this would be the first dinner of many.

-

Early in life, you learned pretty quickly the only person you could depend on was yourself. Your parents were always too busy fighting each other to pay any attention to you and no matter how much you wanted someone to care for you and hold you in your hard times, nobody ever did.

You tucked yourself into bed. You soothed yourself after a nightmare. You took care of yourself and never let anyone see how much you ached for help.

Eventually, the ache dulled and you found some sort of sick comfort in having yourself. At least you never had to deal with disappointment.

Then your baby sister came along.

You were overwhelmed by the intense need to protect her from everything you weren’t. As you two grew up, you began to tuck her in, soothe her back to sleep, care for her every morning.  

You distracted her when your parents argued and when their marriage finally met it’s inevitable end, you held her tight. Then, and without input from either of you, your mom moved you half way across the world to move in with her new husband and his step son.

It wasn’t so much the move that upset you. You couldn’t have cared less about California or being far from your dad – it was how much it upset Max.

Even though your mom promised it would be a fresh start, it wasn’t. Nothing good changed in Hawkins. Your mom and Neil fought just as much as your parents. You and Billy fought even worse than them. It was the exact reminder as to why you never depended on anybody.

And then Steve Harrington entered your life.

He was like a breath of fresh air entering your lungs. Floppy hair, charming eyes and a dizzying smile. You were a goner before he even said his name.

But admitting that was another story.

It was obvious by the time you came into town, he’d gone through a pretty messy breakup but whatever happened, it got him to clean up his act. He was right beside you when you and Max got roped into fighting monsters in the junkyard. He was there when Billy tried to attack you and Lucas in the Byers home. He was the one who pulled you into a plot of underground Russians and it was him who held you and Max after Billy died.

It took him a year to finally break through your walls, but he proved himself to you. It was Steve Harrington who proved that there was at least one person you could depend on. Steve told you he loved you first – even though you already knew – and surprising to everyone, you let him in.

Steve was yours and you were his.

But as good as it felt, you couldn’t let go of your bad habits. Grief and guilt tried to swallow you whole – mostly because you didn’t even actually care that Billy died and how could you feel like that over someone who’s supposed to be family?

You knew Steve would love you no matter what but the idea of letting him see the darkest parts of yourself? Leaving you bare and open to his scrutiny? It was terrifying. Slowly, you gave him pieces, enough to satisfy him, but you knew it wouldn’t be enough forever.

Steve was patient, incredibly so, and sometimes you wondered how long it would be before he realized you weren’t worth it.

Loving him came to you as easy as breathing did. Asking him for help? That felt humiliating. Like you were weak.

But soon, your mind wasn’t on yourself anymore. It was on Max and when you all got sucked into a reality where she was next on a monsters kill list?

Well, shit hit the fan.

You, Steve and the rest of the group form a circle in the Wheeler’s basement. It’s been three days since the random deaths started hitting the town and yesterday, Max told you all about the visions she’d been having.

Sneaking into the high school and watching the way her eyes clouded over and she drifted somewhere else, had your heart dropping to hell itself.

Your biggest fear was now happening right in front of you and you’ve never felt more helpless in your life.

You can hear Nancy talking about the plan for tonight and how the groups are supposed to be split up, but you’re not actually listening. You’re standing right next to Max, one hand resting over the side of her chair and itching to grab her instead.

You’ve barely been able to take your eyes off her for more than a few seconds all night – it’s like you’re afraid if you blink, she’ll be taken from you. Right now, it actually feels plausible.

It’s obvious to everyone, including her, just how much you’re hovering and you know it’s beginning to irritate her but you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit. This isn’t just you being an overprotective older sister – this is her life. You’ll be damned if you let anything happen to her.

Nancy calling your name pulls your attention from Max and you look up at her. “You’ll go with me, Steve and Robin to check out the site closest to the lab. We can’t risk anybody seeing Eddie, so he’ll stay with the kids,”

There’s not a moments hesitation when you speak. “I’m staying with Max.”

She glances around the others before she sighs. You can tell she wants to argue but she doesn’t. “Okay. Just me, Steve and Robin then. You guys have to check out the woods and make sure the gate already closed. If anybody hears anything, you radio it in, okay?” Her voice is full of conviction, something no one tries to challenge.

Everyone nods, except for Steve.

“Take Henderson,” He says. Your gaze flickers up to where he stands beside you. “I’ll stay with them instead,”

In all fairness, it’s a sweet gesture. The idea of Steve wanting to stay close to you and Max but lately, it’s all he’s been doing. Ever since Max’s depression hit its highest peak, you’ve been hovering her and Steve’s been hovering you.

You’ve tried to ignore the irritation that bubbles inside you every time he does it. It’s ironic really – he’s only doing to you, the exact thing you’re doing to Max, but she’s used to that with you. You’re still not used to it with Steve.

“You don’t have to come with us, Steve.” You interrupt carefully. “I can handle it alone,”

He frowns down at you. “I want to.”

You don’t respond before looking away and you let Nancy’s voice fill the silence you created. You can feel his eyes still on you but you don’t look back up at him.

A few minutes later and everyone has dispersed, quickly gathering their things to head out. You took the opportunity to pull Max aside.

“Hey,” You murmur, gently holding her arm. You’re staring at her adorably freckled face, your heart aching at the sight of the braid you put in her hair. “Are you sure you’re okay to do this? If you don’t want to, we can stay back and let them handle it.”

She groans and pulls away from you. “I told you, I’m fine. You’re treating me like a baby,”

Your mouth pulls down as you watch her fill her bag . “I don’t think you’re a baby, Max. I think this is a real problem and I..”You quickly grow irritated over the fact that she won’t look at you, busying herself with her bag. You grab her hand and force her gaze back on you. “Hey, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

She stares back at you, her expression unreadable. “If you don’t want me to get hurt, then stop babying me and let me figure this out.”

The tone in her voice takes you aback but before you can even respond, she rips her arm from your grasp and walks towards Lucas and follows everyone else upstairs.

Your shoulders deflate as you watch her leave.

Maybe she was right – maybe you were babying her, just a little, but what did she expect? This wasn’t just a game – it was her life on the line.

All you want is to protect her. To lock her somewhere safe, far away where nobody and nothing could ever hurt her. Instead, you’re stuck on a ticking time bomb to save her.

Suddenly, Steve appears in front of you and holds your arm the same way you held hers only minutes ago. His large hands circle your arms, his thumbs brushing over your skin.

He gives you a small smile. “Everything’s gonna be okay, baby,”

You glance up at him and sigh. “I’m not worried about me, Steve.” You pull away from his grasp and step around him to grab your jacket.

There’s a beat of silence.

“I know you’re not but I am,”

Your eyes flutter shut and you take a deep breath. You can feel the tension in your body begging to snap – at him.  

“I don’t need you to babysit me, Steve.”

You see him step next to you out of your peripheral vision. “I’m not babysitting you, I’m – I’m trying to be there for you,”

You can hear the confusion in his voice and your heart tugs at the sound, but it’s not enough to reel in your annoyance.

Steve hasn’t taken his eyes off the side of your face and you don’t move to look at him. “You’re not though, you’re hovering. I don’t need you to coddle me, I need you to help me find this Vecna guy and save my sister.”

Your frustration has bled through your voice and Steve picks up on it in seconds.

His brows furrow and his mouth is turned down in a permanent frown. “I am trying to do that. What – what do you think I’ve been doing these past couple of days?” He pauses for a second and shifts on his feet, moving until he’s right in front of you. You still keep your eyes downward, fixated on snapping in every button of your jacket. “But baby, it’s not just Max I’m worried about. It’s you too, I can see the way it’s affecting you.”

Finally, your head snaps up at him, eyes blazing. “Of course it’s affecting me, Steve, she’s my sister! But you treating me like glass isn’t going to help. You’re not helping, you’re just - you’re just suffocating me!”

As soon as the words leave you, you feel overwhelmed with regret. And the look on his face? He looks devastated. You watch as his entire body stills and his shoulders tense. He take a step back, as if your words physically struck him.

Your lips part, almost like you’re ready to say something but nothing comes out. It’s completely silent.

You stand across from each other without a word, only the sound of uneven breathing surrounding you two.

Then, he shakes his head.

His eyes flicker away from you and he rakes his hand through his hair.

“Fine,” He starts. His voice is low and broken – you can hear the hidden anger beneath it. “If I’m suffocating you then fine. I can’t keep sitting here, trying to guess how to love you. You’re right – you’re better off alone.”

Steve doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s walking away too, leaving you alone in the basement.

Your eyes burn and you can feel your throat tighten. It’s shame and regret and guilt hitting you all at once but there’s no taking it back. There’s no apology to fix it.

You had meant it – maybe not entirely – but you’re not used to the comfort Steve’s offering and instead of letting him help, you hurt him.

You hurt him.

You’ve never felt worse in your life.

A few minutes later, you made your own way upstairs and the only thing you could focus on was the way Steve completely avoided you.

He kept his back turned towards you while everyone filled Nancy’s car. The car ride was awkward to say the least. Nancy let him drive and instead of you taking the passenger seat beside him, Nancy sat there and you occupied the seat directly behind him and next to Max.

You hoped maybe his eyes would watch yours in the rear view mirror.

They didn’t.

Not once did he make eye contact or offer any comforting touches.

It wasn’t until then did you realize how much it actually helped you. Before, it felt like his touch was burning. Now, you yearned for it back.

It’s a painful twenty minute car ride and once you make it to the middle of the woods, everyone barrels out of the wagon. You all stand around in another circle, listening to Nancy talk about the meetup point. Everyone is ready to split up when Steve reaches down to grab the bag from her hand and begins passing out flashlights.

Your eyes are hopeful when he moves to hand you yours. He still hasn’t looked at you, instead keeping his eyes locked on the flashlight. Your fingers close around the object and you take a step closer to him, ready to try and initiate a conversation before you walk away but before you can, his grip drops and he brushes past you.

He was barely close enough for his shoulder to press against yours and you could smell his cologne as he passed you. Your heart ached as you turned around and watched him walk away – following Nancy further down the path of their own route.

But you don’t stop him.

Instead, you flip your flashlight on and walk in the opposite direction. Away from him.

It’s been nearly half an hour of walking towards the gate. The woods are dark and silent – save from the leaves rusting and crunching beneath your feet. You’re not sure if the way the wind whistles is from whatever could be lurking between the trees or to blame on nature.

Still, not once has your mind wandered from Steve.

From the argument, the look on his face, his words. You couldn’t blame him for what he said – you weren’t exactly nice with the things you said but it still stung to think about.

You always knew you didn’t make it easy for people to be around you – let alone love you but Steve did. He did wholeheartedly and unapologetically.

And what did you give him in return?

Basically a slap in the face.

It’s hardly a surprise he’s met his wits end with you.

Max quietly steps beside you, her footsteps matching your own. For a few seconds, you don’t really register her presence or the way she keeps side eyeing you.

“It’s okay to let someone in, you know.” She finally breaks the silence. “Like all the way,”

You glance up at her. Your response isn’t immediate – you’re not even truly sure how to respond.

You choose deflection.

“You’re one to talk,” You huff. “You broke up with Lucas a few months ago.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and look where that got me,”

Your hand shoots out to grab her arm; forcing her to a halt. “Don’t joke about that,” You say firmly. “You’re going to be fine.”

She doesn’t flinch at your tone and she doesn’t pull away either. Your fingers tighten around her skin, as if her words were a declaration for someone to snatch her away.

She sighs quickly. “My point is I let my shit control me. I could’ve asked for help – Lucas spent months trying and all I did was push him away. This wouldn’t be happening if I just let him.”

Your eyes gloss over at the thought of her regretting the way she handled everything. She couldn’t have known.

“You don’t know that, Maxie,” You murmur and for once, she doesn’t bite your head off for calling her that.

Instead she shrugs and continues walking, letting you follow her. “Maybe not. But I do know if I make it out of this alive,” She looks away from you then and you follow to where her gaze lands on Lucas walking a few feet ahead of Dustin. “I’m going to fix it with Lucas because I love him and he loves me.” She looks back at you, a newfound sadness deep in her eyes. “And Steve really loves you. So get your shit together and stop pushing him away,”

Her words land exactly where she intended. Embedded deep beneath your ribs, stabbing through your heart. She was right – in every aspect.

If Steve was going to leave, he would’ve done so already, but he hasn’t. He’s held you through almost every ugly part of your life and still loves you with every ounce of himself.

And if you haven’t completely ruined everything between you two, you were going to fix it. Even if you didn’t deserve him.

You glance at Max from the corner of your eye. “You’re making it out of this alive by the way. Even if I have to burn the upside down to the ground myself.”

Max smirks at your words, even though you both catch the way your voice breaks. “Whatever you say.”

You and the kids keep walking further into the woods, so far until the trees begin to blend and you almost worry you won’t be able to find your way back.

You still haven’t found the gate and you’re ready to pull everyone back and retreat before Dustin suddenly springs upwards. He murmurs out a string of curses and spins in a circle.

“Henderson, I’m getting dizzy just looking at you. What’re you doing?” You grimace at the curly headed boy.

“The compass. It’s – it’s acting crazy. It’s pointing in every direction.” He distractedly responds. His face is pulled tight, brows furrowed and a frown plastered on his mouth.

“Maybe it’s broken?” Lucas asks. Dustin glares at him.

“I know how to take care of my things, Lucas,” He hissed. Lucas glares back harder.

“I didn’t say you didn’t, Dustin, but why else would it be going haywire?”

“I don’t know! That’s what I’m trying to figure out, asshole – ,”

“You’re the asshole!”

“No, you’re the – .”

Max cuts them off with an obnoxious groan.

“Are you two ladies finished?” She snaps. “If it’s not broken then that could mean the gate is near here. We need to try and find it, so stop your cat fight, alright?”

The two boys huff but ultimately listen.

The four of you walk in opposite directions, flashlights stuck to the ground as you inspect the floor for an opening. For a few minutes, the only sound around you is the branches snapping under your feet – everyone is quiet as they search for any evidence of the opening.

Suddenly, your light does catch something. Something red.

You move closer without thinking, but your steps are slow and careful. As you approach the sight, it almost looks like a cocoon reaching one tree, all the way across to the other. There’s dark, thick vine like branches surrounding what looks like the rift. The red flashes beam from beneath it, lighting up the dark woods around you.

But the closer you get, the worse it looks. It’s not just sitting there - it’s moving. The thin layer covering it pulses like a heart beats rhythm. Slowly, lean just a little closer.

Without looking away, you speak up. “Hey guys..” You start hesitantly. “I think – I think I found it,”

You know without looking the kids have wandered a little further than a few feet but still close enough to hear you. The sound of their distant voices fills the air around you.

“Are you sure?” Dustin’s voice rings out.

“I’m pretty sure,” You reply. You sink to the floor, squatting in front of the rift. “This isn’t something I’ve randomly come across bef– ,”

Suddenly, you’re cut off when one of the thick vines snaps through the cocoon like layer.

A fearful yelp tears from your throat and you jerk backwards, landing on your bottom against the hard ground. Your flashlight falls from your hand, rolling away and taking away any light you had before.

You hear the kids shout your name from far behind you and the sound of their footsteps rushing closer.

Your stomach sinks as you watch the vine slither across the ground and within seconds, wrap itself around your thigh. Even through your jeans, you can feel the cold and slippery skin of the vine – just before its hold tightens, tight enough to nearly cut off circulation.

Pain shoots from the skin of your thigh, traveling through every inch of your body. You don’t even have time to react before it yanks you across the dirt.

It’s white hot pain coursing through your veins, setting every nerve on fire. It feels like nails are sinking into your skin – almost like it has teeth it’s holding you by – as it drags you around. The pain is enough for a real scream to tear out of you this time.

The vine flips you around and your nails dig into the dirt of the forest, desperate to grab any leverage you can. Your skin fills with a hundred tiny cuts from branches and rocks digging into your skin as it pulls you across the floor.

Your legs kick with every movement of the vine in an attempt to break free but the more you struggle, the tighter its hold gets. You can’t suppress the cry that launches from your chest – the sound bouncing off the trees around you.

Your chest is pressed to the floor when you see the kids running to you but before they can reach you, it pulls you further down. Max screams your name and even through your pain, it’s enough to gather all your strength. The vine pulls you past a pile of leaves and rocks.

You barely have a second to think about it before your hand yanks the sharpest rock you find and you’re slamming it into the flesh like surface of the vine. You drive the sharpest point again, and again and again until it begins to squeal around your skin.

The grip slowly loosens but still tries to tug you further into the forest. You keep stabbing wildly, your vision clouded from pain and the dirt stuck to your face. Your arms burn from the movement until you strike directly at the top.

The rock slashes through the head of the vine, hard enough to slide right through its skin and pierce your own thigh.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins isn’t enough to mask the pain and you scream in agony at the feeling of the rock puncturing your skin.

Finally, the vine forces itself out from under the rock and slowly slithers back deep into the trees.

You’re gasping for breath, your entire body trembling as you drop the rock to the ground. Your gaze drops down to your thigh.

Blood soaks your jeans and you can see the way your thigh shakes from pain. Gingerly, your hands grasp the skin of your thigh, trying to apply pressure but your hands quickly stain from the blood.

The kids finally reach you and Max sinks to the ground beneath you, launching herself around you. You catch her as best you can with one arm, the other pressed firm against your wound.

“Oh thank God!” She cries. You groan in pain – from both her bone crushing hug and your leg.

The boys shine their lights over you two, both letting out a sigh of relief until they catch sight of your leg.

“Holy shit,” Dustin gasps. You wince, breath shuddering.

“It’s – it’s not as bad as it looks,” You force out through your teeth. Max pulls away and looks at your legs next.

“Are you kidding me?” She exclaims. “You’re literally gushing blood – that’s as bad as it gets!”

“Max, calm down,” You mutter and it only pisses her off more.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! That could’ve killed you,”

“Yeah except it didn’t,” You bite back.

You take a deep breath and swallow down a cry as you try to push yourself up. Lucas quickly drops beside you, arms slipping under your arms to help you up.

You wince at the pain shooting from your thigh, up to your chest, but you try to hide it. The last thing you want is for them to panic. Dustin appears in front of you.

He says your name carefully. “Your leg looks really bad, okay? We have to call –.”

You cut him off. “I’m fine, Dustin.” He looks ready to argue but you cut him off. “Is that a favorite shirt?”

The boy glances down at his shirt, brows pulled tight. “What? No, not really. It’s just –.”

This time, you cut him off by yanking the bottom towards you and tearing a long piece.

“Hey – what the hell!” He shouts, eyes wide.

Your only response is a groan as you wrap the fabric around your cut, tying a knot tight enough to burn. Max quickly pulls your arm around your waist, holding you from falling. There’s a muffled cry in your throat as you feel more blood slide down your leg but the makeshift tourniquet will have to do for now.

“I said I’m fine,” You breathe out, one arm sliding across Max’s shoulders. “We can’t just sit here and wait for someone to find us, alright? It’s too dangerous out here,”

Despite the pain filling your body, your voice is firm and unyielding. The three kids look up at you and silence fills the air for a few moments before they all nod, murmuring agreements towards you.

The four of you begin to move forward together, back in the direction of the meetup point. Max holds onto you – one arm snaked around your waist and the other holding your hand draped over her shoulder. Lucas walks behind you two, carefully looking in every direction for any sign of danger. Dustin walks ahead of you all, flashlight beaming in front of him as he tries to make contact with the radio.

“I repeat – this is a code red. We are in dire need of rescue and we need a response!” His angry voice rings through the trees. “Nancy? Steve? Anybody? Damnit!” He shouts.

You wince at the shrill sound. Everything around you feels heightened – the pain in your leg, the way your blood soaked jeans cling to your skin, the way blood continues to pour out of your cut and into your shoe.

“We’re too deep in the woods, Dustin. The chances of getting a signal are slim,” Lucas points out behind you.

The walk towards the gate felt long enough but now, it feels endless. It feels like you’re walking in circles – every tree looks the same and every time you think you’re almost to the end, you’re met with the same sight of never ending darkness ahead of you.

“How much further?” Max asks, her hold around your waist tightening.

Your face twists in pain but you stay quiet.

“I don’t think it’s that far anymore. We passed this hill like ten minutes after we started walking,” Dustin says.

It should give you some hope but you don’t think you have ten minutes of walking left in you.

You look at Max and you can see the complete fear covering her face. A sight you haven’t seen since Billy attacked the group back at Starcourt last year. It kills you.

You can’t give up now. It’s not about you. She’s depending on you – they all are. Getting them back to safety is all that matters, no matter what.

Despite your mind telling you to keep pushing through the pain, your leg has decided it’s had enough. Before you even realize it’s happening, your knee buckles beneath you and you slip from Max’s hold.

A sharp gasp slips past your lips as you crash into the floor. Your knees smack against the ground, a shattering feeling shooting up to your wound. Your hands barely catch you in time, the sticks and rocks digging into the skin of your palm.

Max’s hand miss as they shoot out to catch you. Lucas appears next to you in the blink of an eye and the three kids huddle around you.

Max says your name tearfully. “You can’t keep going, we – we have to wait here,”

“We can’t,” You grit out. “It’s not safe out here for you guys, I can – I can keep going, I just need a min-minute,”

The kids all glance at each other before Dustin speaks up.

“Okay, you guys stay here with her. I’m gonna walk further down, see if I can reach them on the walkie,”

“No!” You try to manage your firmest tone but your voice cracks right down the middle. “Henderson, you’re not going alone. I can walk.”

You brace your palms against the ground and try to push up. Your elbows wobble beneath you and you barely make it into an upright kneeling position before they give out beneath you.

You cry out in pain but this time, Max catches you.

“Lucas, go with him. I’ll stay here with her.” She orders.

“I said no!” You shout but the boys don’t listen to you this time. They walk a few feet further away, Dustin’s voice echoing through the woods as he calls out their names.

“Stop it!” Max snaps. “You’re no help if you’re dead, alright! We need the others,”

Tears prick your eyes as her words settle in your chest.

Not from the pain but from frustration.

You were supposed to protect her. All of them.

Instead, you’re kneeling in dirt, grime and a pool of your own blood. Instead, you’re relying on three teenagers to take care of you.

The only thing you’re grateful for is the fact that you can still see the boys when you finally hear Nancy’s voice fills the air too.

“Dus – Dustin?” Her voice cracks over the static. You watch the way the boys practically jump for joy at the sound of her voice and you can feel Max’s body loosen just barely beside you.

“Oh thank fuck!” Dustin curses over the radio. “Nancy, we need help. We found the gate but Y/N, she’s – she’s hurt really bad.”

“What hap-happened?”

The cracks over the radio prove how weak the signal is and you worry you’re about to lose it entirely.

“It was like, a vine from the damn rift. I don’t – I don’t know but it’s bad, she can’t walk,” He explains.

The reminder of what happened has your face twisting. The way Dustin sounds explaining to Nancy how you got hurt – like you can’t handle things. Like you’re weak. It’s irrational, it really is but it’s all you can focus on.

Max notices the pained look on your face and the way your breathing turns uneven. She shifts to kneel in front of you and pulls your gaze towards her.

“What do you need?” She asks softly.

Your lip wobbles as you look at her.

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“I – I want Steve,” You choke out. Her eyes soften immediately and she squeezes your hands before turning her head.

“She wants Steve!” She shouts to the boys. They both look over at where you both kneel on the ground and Dustin quickly locks in.

“Where’s Steve? She’s asking for Steve,” He relays over the walkie.

There’s a beat of silence.

And then you hear him.

“Dustin! I’m right here. What happened? Where is she?”

Steve.

His voice is loud and frantic, almost like he’s too close to the speaker. It’s hard to understand him completely and you can feel your eyes get heavier as Dustin gives him a quick rundown of what happened.

“I’m coming.” His voice cracks through the line.

It’s two simple words, but it’s enough to bring you to tears.

You will them back with every bit of strength you have left. You already feel weak enough – actually crying in front of your baby sister will kill you before your wound ever can.

You try not to focus on the way embarrassment slowly begins to creep up on you but it’s hard not to feel it. Because Steve is coming and he’s going to see you – covered in blood and tears, helpless and exposed.

But as overwhelming as that feels, you also feel relief.  

Because Steve is coming back to you.

As much as you fought against admitting it, all you want is him. You want to be wrapped in his arms, buried in his chest, and surrounded by his warmth.

You just want him.

It’s barely five minutes before you can hear his voice shouting in the distance.

He’s calling out for you – your name echoing through the air and off the trees. Your chest aches at the sound of his voice so close.

Finally, you see his flashlight through the trees a few feet in front of you and then you see him. He appears from between the trees, his eyes wide and frantic. He lands on Dustin first, the light flickering from him, to where you kneel on the ground.

The second his eyes land on you, he’s rushing towards you. He’s within arms reach in seconds and he drops to his knees in front of you, the flashlight long forgotten at his side.

“Hey, hey, hey,” He whispers, carefully pulling you from Max’s hold. His eyes lock on the blood seeping from your thigh. “You’re gonna be okay, baby,” He nods. “Where does it hurt?”

Your lips part to answer but the words get caught in your throat.

The sight of him in front of you again – his puppy dog brown eyes wide with concern for you. His gentle voice soothing you. The warmth of his skin radiating from his body to yours.

Your resolve breaks.

Thick and hot tears slide down your cheeks, dripping down your face and soaking your neck. Your arms reach out to grab him and he doesn’t even hesitate.

Steve meets you half way and you collapse into his chest. Your shoulders shake as you finally let yourself feel it all. You feel the pain of your cut and the pain of accepting help.

His arms wrap tightly around your body, holding you just as tight as you hold him. Your fists clutch the back of his jacket so hard you can hear your nails scratching the leather. You bury your face into his neck, soaking his skin in tears. He whispers gentle reassurances against your hair.

Your body wracks with sobs and not a single part of you cares about the others around you. You don’t care that they’re watching you two. You don’t care if you look weak. All you care about is Steve.

“I got you baby, I got you,” He murmurs. Carefully, Steve shifts so he can slide one arm around your back and the other beneath your knees. He moves to stand and pull you with him, settling over his arms.

You cry out from the pain of your leg bending, eyes squeezing shut and your fingers tighten their grip on his shoulders.

“I know baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He soothes. “I just gotta get you out of here, okay?”

You nod timidly, breath shuddering as you try to calm yourself down. Steve doesn’t wait for anyone else before carrying you through the woods and back towards the car. He holds you as if you weigh nothing and turns what should’ve been a ten minute walk into a four minute one.

The second the car is in view, Max runs to open the back door for Steve. He easily slides in, still holding you in his arms and settles against the window of the wagon. He holds you in his lap, your arms still wrapped around his neck and your head tucked under his chin.

Everyone quickly jumps into the car and before anyone can even buckle, Nancy is peeling off the gravel and onto the main road.

Steve holds you tight to his chest the entire car ride and you don’t miss the way his eyes keep falling back to your leg.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” You whimper against his skin. Steve shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize baby, it’s okay. Everything’s okay, I promise,” He reassures you.

Steve does his best to keep you conscious even as your eyelids grow heavy and begin to drop. Nancy breaks multiple speeding laws getting back to her house and when you finally make it back, he quickly pulls you out of the car and onto the extra bed they pulled into the basement.

Steve holds your hand the entire time Nancy cleans your leg. You were right before – as bad as it was, it definitely looked worse than it was. You squeezed his hand every time the antiseptic burned against your skin and he gently wiped your tears with his thumb.

He whispered sweet reassurances into your ears, planting gentle kisses to your face every time you winced in pain. Nancy managed to clean and dress the wound fairly quickly and once she finished, she steered everyone back upstairs to give you space.

Exhaustion has embedded itself deep in your bones and you gather all your strength to keep looking at Steve. He’s kneeling on the side of the bed, one hand stroking your hair and the other laced with yours.

He looks completely content just watching you for the rest of the night but your guilt hasn’t subsided even a bit.

“Steve,” You whisper so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t so hyperaware of you.

“What is it, baby?”

Your wide eyes stare up at him. “I’m sorry,”

Tears line your eyes again, hot and unyielding, and your lip wobbles. His eyes soften at you and he moves to lay beside you instead. He settles beside you, carefully pulling you into his chest.

“You don’t have to –.”

“Yes I do,” You interrupt. Your voice is slow, but he lets you talk. “I didn’t – I didn’t mean it, Steve, I swear. I was just scared. I’ve only ever needed Max and now it just feels like I’m losing her and I was scared if I admitted I needed you, I would lose you too,” You confess, tears staining your cheeks.

His face twists in pain at the sight of you crying. He raises his hand to cup your cheek. “I didn’t mean what I said either,” He begins. “About you being better off alone. I was angry and I tried to hurt you back but it wasn’t true baby, not for a second. I’m sorry,”

His thumb glides across the skin of your cheek. You lean into his touch, brows pulled tight.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore, Steve.”

He nods, his eyes glossing over. “You’re not baby, you have me,”

You stare up at him and every instinct to shut him out disappears. “I need you, Steve. More than anything and I don’t ever want to lose you,”

He exhales sharply. “You will never lose me, okay? I swear to you. It doesn’t matter what’s going on – you’ll have me until the end of fucking time, baby,”

Without another word, you bury yourself back in his chest and cling to him like second skin.

For twenty years, you convinced yourself you didn’t need anybody else. You convinced yourself that accepting help meant admitting failure. But now, as you lay against Steve’s chest – completely bare and vulnerable to him – fully allowing him to take care of you, it all changed.

It was a typical Tuesday night. Nearing around 11pm. You sighed, treading down the hall, back towards where your dorm is. Your slippers lazily scraped across the floor, not being bothered enough to fully pick up your feet with each step. You held your towel in one hand, drying your hair as you walked, humming a quiet tune to yourself. The other hand held your overflowing shower caddy.

You preferred showering late at night. The bathrooms were quiet. You were able to actually take your time, not having to rush through your routine.

As you turned the corner you noticed the door to the men’s bathroom was cracked, a soft warm light shining through. You didn’t think anything of it. As you got closer you could hear faint noises coming from inside. You ignored it, too tired to care. Just as you were about to pass it, the sound of muffled moans stopped you in your tracks.

Keep walking. Keep walking.

Your feet betrayed you and began stepping towards the door before you could stop yourself. Your heart began pounding as the noises grew louder the closer you got. You peeked through and what you saw was enough to make your stomach drop.

There stood your best friend, Steve, planted in front of the bathroom mirror. The room was foggy. The air thick and filled with steam from a hot shower. His hair was dripping wet, causing beads of water to fall down to his bare skin and onto the floor.

Your eyes raked down his body. He has one hand on the counter in front of him keeping his balance. His basketball shorts were pulled down in the front just enough so that his other hand could pull and jerk at his aching, leaking cock.

You watch as his head falls back with a quiet moan as he strokes for his own pleasure. The sight has your jaw slacked. Weak. You feel weak. You know this is wrong. You shouldn’t be standing here watching him. Watching your best friend in such a vulnerable state.

And yet, your feet don’t move. They don’t even try. Your stomach tightens. You feel yourself squeezing your legs together to try and subside that stupid annoying feeling that’s happening inside you.

You always knew Steve was good looking. You’re not blind. But you never actually thought about him like this.

You don’t actually know how you never looked at him like this before. I mean…jesus. It was like you were in a trance. His wet hair, the way his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes shut tight. The way his stomach was twitching from the sensations he was causing himself. The occasional flex of his bicep while he jerked himself off.

His hand moved at a steady pace. You almost fell to your knees when he let out a quiet soft whimper of a moan as he worked higher towards his tip.

Oh my god.

Then of course. The universe decided to play its own version of a sick joke on you. Before you could react or even register what was happening, your shower caddy decided right now was the perfect time to finally give out. All of your shower products flew out of the basket and onto the floor with a loud bang.

Steve’s head whipped towards the sudden noise, his eyes immediately finding you. You froze. You looked at all the bottles on the floor and then back at him. Then back at the bottles….then back at him again. What exactly are you supposed to do in this situation?

“I—um—I—sorry I was just—“ you stumble over your words, unable to find anything to say that could possibly make this situation better. You look anywhere but at him, too humiliated to even glance in his direction. “I um…I’m sorry. I didn’t see—“

“Shh, hey it’s okay.” he finally spoke. You were terrified. What he said next was the opposite of what you expected. “Can you help me?” he asked.

Your breathing hitched. You almost choked on your own spit, your body tensing immediately. It’s almost like the world was put on mute. All you can hear is the deep drum of your heart beat. A shiver runs down your spine and you can literally feel your throat close up, struggling to get any words out.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck is going on?

You should leave. You should grab your things off the floor and lock yourself in your room and never come out again. Maybe even transfer schools and forget this ever happened.

That’s not what you do though. Instead, without even realizing it, you find yourself nodding your head to his question.

He speaks again, “C’mere.” His voice was quiet and soft. It was laced with traces of need and want. Maybe even some desperation.

You exhale shakily, setting down the rest of your things. You slowly step into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. He watches you carefully, as you start to inch towards him nervously.

“I—How do you want—?”

“Get behind me. Can you do that for me? Please?”

Normally you’d be embarrassed by how fast you complied. But right now you couldn’t care less. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire and that’s all you can focus on. Along with the ache between your thighs.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling dry and heavy. He could see the nerves in your body language. Feeling it radiating off of you.

“Hey, s’okay. I got you.” he looked at you through the fogged mirror, unable to make out any features. “S’just me, mkay? Your best friend. Your Steve.” He reached behind himself, grabbing your hand and rubbing it gently. An attempt to calm your nerves. “Need your help so bad. Would you be a good friend and help me?”

You nod, nervously. You lift your hands to his shoulders, letting them trace gently down his arms all the way to his wrists. Your movements are slow and unsure. You feel him shiver underneath your touch, only to melt into it once your hands find their way to his bare chest. Your fingers gliding over top of his chest hair.

The second he melted into your touch it was like all nervousness left your body. Without a second thought you leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his shoulder. He exhaled in pleasure, biting his lip to stifle a moan when your hands rubbed up and down his body.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for so long. ‘Bout you.” he spoke through deep breaths.

The heat in your stomach only grew at his words. The fresh panties you were wearing were certainly growing wetter by the second.

You pulled your arms back, causing him to frown. The sound of you spitting in your hand quickly replaced that frown with a lazy smile. Your left hand wrapped around his torso, running up and down his chest while your other hand found its way to his aching cock.

He hissed the second you grabbed onto him, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. Your hand finally began to move up and down his length. You started off slow, teasing, pulling a quiet “fuck” from his lips.

Your free hand roamed all over his chest and stomach, wanting to feel every inch you could reach. Keeping your movements slow, you placed a trail of kisses all over his upper back, causing a deep exhale to escape his lips. You squeezed slightly tighter, a real moan finally coming out.

Music to your ears.

It was right then that you stopped holding back. All you wanted was to hear that sound over and over again. The sound of your best friend completely at your mercy. Weak over your touch.

You picked up your pace, your hand moving up and down in a corkscrew motion. His head fell backwards, landing on your shoulder. The bathroom was quickly filled with sounds of his erratic moans and the sound of you jerking him off.

“Doin’ so good—fuck—makin’ me feel so good.” he spoke in between moans.

“Yeah?” you smiled, watching his face scrunch tight through the mirror in front of you two.

You kept a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. His noises and little twitches encouraging you to finally ask what’s been on your mind since he said it. “You said you’ve been thinking about this? You and me?”

“Mhm, ahh fuck.” he leaned into your touch, trying to steady himself. “You came over one day—shit go faster. Please, please go faster.” a loud moan rippled through the bathroom. “You were wearing that one skirt—“

Before he could finish his sentence, your hand reached the top of his shaft, right underneath his tip. He jolted in your hands, a literal whimper escaping from his mouth.

Your lips immediately quirked up into a wide smile, knowing you’d just found his spot. “That feel good?” you ask, keeping your movements focused on that one spot.

“Ahh—fffuck yes.”

“The skirt. Tell me about the skirt.”

“The short black one—“ he struggled to talk coherently, his breathing growing heavier as he reached his climax. “—you came over wearing it. Dropped your keys—m’so close.”

“I know, I know. Deep breaths, you can do it. Keep tellin’ me.”

“Y-you bent over to pick em up. Your little pink panties on complete display f’me.”

Your face reddened. You don’t even remember that.

“Ever since then, been wanting to get my hands on you.”

His words made your knees weak. Like actually weak. You suddenly felt like jelly. Your core clenching around nothing, begging for some kind of relief.

Your arm was burning but that didn’t stop you from going faster, determined to get him to his release.

After a few more moans and curses, Steve threw his head back once again, landing on your shoulder. A loud, breathless moan ripped through him as his come shot all over your hand and his stomach. But you didn’t stop there. You kept your movements going up to his tip, wanting to hear those whimpers from earlier.

He cried out, knees buckling. You stepped back, his sudden body weight almost knocking the both of you over. You didn’t dare stop.

“Ahh fuck I can’t—“ he whined loudly.

You paid extra close attention to where his shaft and tip met, rubbing up and down in tiny movements. He was putty in your hands. He tried to talk but nothing coherent could come out. The overstimulation too much.

Only when a second orgasm ripped through him did you finally stop. He was completely and utterly spent. His chest heaved, struggling to catch his breath.

You released him from your grasp, bringing your hand up to your mouth. He turned around and watched with awe as you licked his come off each of your fingers until your hand was clean.

With wide eyes and dilated pupils he finally spoke, “Jesus fucking christ.”

You smiled. Before you could say anything he grabbed you by your waist, pulling you close. “C’mere, it’s your turn.”