do you know who you are?

H. | 18+ | she/her. | requests OPEN. | masterlist is pinned. |

[thekinghazzastyles]

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─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ HARRY POTTER ♡˳·˖✶ ੈ

[lilaccatholic]

It’s Fourth of July Eve so make sure to leave some milk and cookies out for Captain America

[lilaccatholic]

I THOUGHT AFTER FOUR YEARS YOU PEOPLE WOULD LET THIS DIE AND YET AGAIN I OPEN THIS CURSED APP TO FIND MORE NOTES ON THIS POST

[thekinghazzastyles]

I deadass just made cookies…

[loveridden1999]

maybe it's me being a brown woman but i can't comprehend how & why people treat having a racist phase as a teenager as smth okay or a norm

[edgeofgreatness]

let this be your sign to just go watch the supergirl movie, please dont let a bunch of misogynistic bad reviews get the best of you

[ollesclepias]

one of the best movies i’ve seen in a while!!!

[roguedeer]

Being asexual and racist is embarassing as fuck. Being racist at all is obviously embarassing as fuck but the amount of racism and especially antiblackness i have been seeing from asexuals recently is obscene.

One of the only asexual activists is Yasmin Benoit, a Black woman. She has raised so much awareness for the community. She was the first asexual person to lead Pride in London, she started the #thisiswhatasexuallookslike movement and is THE leading voice for the community.

And you all will celebrate international asexuality day on April 6th but we wouldn't even have that if she hadn't cofounded it.

Edit: why are you all too scared to repost this. Cmon. Be vocal about being against racism

[mckqys]

butch cassie x femme reader pls 🙂‍↕️😵‍💫

❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 ❞

𝗯𝘂𝘁𝗰𝗵! 𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺𝗺𝗲! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 + 𝗴!𝗽 𝗯𝘂𝘁𝗰𝗵!𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺𝗺𝗲! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

butch cassie who loves it when you wear a skirt, she loves how easy it is for her to push her hand between your thighs and fuck you senseless, she'll do it anywhere, at home whilst youre doing dishes, in the car whilst she's driving or even under a table in public just because she can

butch cassie who buys you two of whatever clothes she gets you, one to rip off of you before she ruins you and another to be kept nice and pretty so you can wear it out and drive her crazy

butch cassie who had scratch marks all down her back from the pretty nails she pays for you to get done

butch cassie who holds your legs open with her hands as she eats you out, giving herself full access to your slick folds, or she'll hook your legs over her shoulder and wait for you to try and close your thighs around her head; she could die happy with your pussy as her last meal

butch cassie who always wears her strap under her clothes just in case she 'needs' to use it on you (she always does)

butch cassie who pulls your hair even if you've just got it done "I'll pay for them to fix it bunny.. just be a good girl for me"

butch cassie who makes it her personal kiss off all your lipstick every time you go out together

g!p butch cassie who doesn’t even bother taking off your cute lace panties before fucking you, pulling them to the side and lifting your hips as she pushes into you all the way to the hilt and doesnt stop until her creampie is dripping from your cunt then just pulls them back over like nothing happened.

g!p butch cassie who gets so turned on by how your thighs look in your skirt she grabs your hips, dryhumping against your ass until she cums in her boxers, forehead falling foreward against your shoulder blade, still grinding up against you.

g!p butch cassie who puts her hands either side of your head as she fucks you, her biceps bulging as her hips snap against yours her veiny dick hammering rough into you, breath splaying accross the side of your neck

[jackienat-truther]

Kitty Kat

Robin Buckley x popular!fem!reader

song rec: kitty kat - beyoncé

summary: you can't be more obvious about how badly you want to hop on Robin and wear her out, and Robin is absolutely clueless. and as entrained as Steve is, he's tired of watching it.

warnings/tags: fluff, suggestive reader is kinda giving mean/bossy femme but like... in a fun cunty way of course, Robin literally has no clue reader is flirting with her and is completely lost, teasing... so much teasing, drunk makeout session, brief dry-humping/thigh riding/grinding, timeline is kinda weird (just ignore how it makes no sense with the canon timeline), first thousand-ish words are just backstory and Steve's ally origin story... other character may seem slightly ooc cuz i gave up on trying to make all the friends and connections canonically accurate lol, i got really lazy while trying to read over this so it's not exactly proofread but i did have someone else beta edit (thoughts and prayers for this one...)

wc: 11.8k

You and Steve Harrington have been good friends for as long as you can remember. Well- sort of. You didn't really get along as kids, but you were neighbors and close in age, whose parents got along well, which put you two in the position of being around each other more than either of you had wanted.

This developed into some sort of sibling-like annoyance that had both of you coiling in disgust any time someone would insinuate anything other than a platonic dynamic between you two.

You were both fairly popular and involved in school activities, always finding each other in similar crowds, and seeking comfort in knowing you were both putting up some sort of front.

It was pretty early on in your high school career that Steve realized you were very different from every other girl in his life. Your name had been brought up by multiple people in many different contexts. He has denied many accusations of him having a crush on you, and the other way around, because it's never been like that. He's definitely thought about it before, and after things went terribly wrong with Nancy, he even tried to force himself to consider it as an option. He quickly reaffirmed this as a terrible idea that would work because 1) you are far more evil than Nancy Wheeler, and would tear him to shreds, and 2) Steve Harrington was well-aware that you did not have any romantic or sexual interest in men.

He had always wondered why you never had a boyfriend like all the other girls you hung around with. Steve had always just chalked it up to the fact that you were still young, or that you just had other priorities ("Y/n's really smart- she's too busy with school to care about any of you losers" is definitely something he's said to his own friends in your defense when he started having his suspicions).

Everything was confirmed one night at a party after he and Nancy had officially ended things. Steve had been handling the breakup pretty badly, and you, of course, being the only real friend he had, were there to hold him together. He was so drunk at one point that you had to take him outside because he was overheating. You sat on a stoop at the side of the house, just letting him complain and whine about Nancy. At some point, you started getting annoyed and interrupted,

"I mean, Steve, she said she didn't love you... and you want her back? That's so unfair to you! You need to be with someone who actually cares about you and what you want. Nancy's great, but your goals don't align at ALL- and how she handled that was HORRIBLE-" You continued ranting about something related to Steve and Nancy and love and how he deserves to be loved wholly, and Steve, in his drunken state, started formulating thoughts. You were beautiful, funny, smart, and always kept it real with him... why had he never actually considered you? Sure- you were mean to every other guy who tried to put a move on you, but... maybe it could be different (he knew it wouldn't be). He had thought back on all the times you'd interacted with each other, then on all the times he'd seen you interact with other guys. You never really seemed interested in anyone- in fact, you seemed kind of disgusted and irritated any time you had to talk to a guy. Which was so weird, because Steve has seen you be kind and sweet so many other times!

Then he started thinking about all those times...

"Y/n-" Steve cut off whatever you were saying. You looked at him with wide eyes, honestly scared he was about to throw up or pass out.

"What..."

"Why don't you like boys?" he slurred. And Steve might have been plastered, but he never forgot how pale your face got, and how scared you looked when he asked you that question.

"Excuse me?" Steve shook his head softly, reaching for your hand and squeezing it.

"Don't look at me like that- it's not scary- justaquestion..." He wasn't making any sense...

"I don't know what you're talking about..." Steve let out a slow, disbelieving laugh, head tipping back against the siding of the house.

“C’mon,” he mumbled. “You hate every guy that talks to you.”

“I do not.”

“You do,” he insisted, pointing at you lazily. “Every time Tommy has tried flirting with you, you looked like you wanna to kill him-"

"that's because Carol's obviously obsessed with him, and it's- ugh, it's Tommy."

"Right, and when Jason Carver asked for your number, you told him to eat shit and die.” “And that was funny.”

“It was terrifying.” You rolled your eyes hard enough to hurt, but your stomach was twisting violently. Steve was drunk, yes, but he wasn’t stupid. He noticed things, always had.

“You’re imagining things,” you muttered.

“Am not.” His voice softened suddenly, unexpectedly serious beneath the slur. “I know you.”

And he was right- he did know you, and that's what made you feel sick.

Steve Harrington knew you better than almost anyone. Better than your parents, maybe. Better than any other guy you've ever talked to. Better than the girls you floated between at school. He knew every version of your moods, every look on your face, every stupid little habit.

And apparently, he knew this too.

Your fingers tightened around the sleeves of your jacket. “Steve-”

“You don’t gotta act weird about it,” he interrupted quietly. “I’m not judging you.” You stared at him, and Steve, drunk out of his mind and glassy-eyed under the porch light, just shrugged like it was obvious.

“I think it’s kinda cool, actually.”

The breath you’d been holding escaped all at once. For a second, neither of you spoke. Then Steve squinted at you suddenly, brows pulling together in concentration. “Wait.”

"What?"

"Oh my god..." “Oh my god?”

“WAIT-” You covered your face immediately. “Steve, don’t.”

His mouth dropped open slowly like the world’s dumbest revelation had just hit him.

“You like girls.” you smack him, “Keep your voice down!”

“You LIKE girls.”

“Yes, asshole, I know this, and I figured you gathered that from the conversation!” Steve started laughing so hard he nearly fell sideways off the stoop. You grabbed his arm on instinct, mortified beyond belief while he clung to your sleeve, still cackling.

“I knew it,” he said triumphantly.

“You absolutely did not.”

“I totally did.”

“You thought I was a communist last month.”

“That was unrelated.” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “I cannot believe this is happening right now.”

Steve looked at you then- really looked at you- and the laughter faded into something softer.

“So that’s why,” he said quietly.

“Why what?”

“You never liked any of those idiots.”

You snorted. “Well, I mean- yeah... but even if I did like guys, I would never go out with most of those weirdos.”

Steve smiles softly, releasing a huff of laughter, “fair enough.” He nodded slowly, like that made perfect sense to him.

Then, because he was Steve, and because he was drunk and incapable of shutting up, he asked “So who do you like?”

Your eyes widened instantly. “Nobody-” he scoffs, “Liar.”

“Steve-” he dramatically tosses himself onto you, leaning his head on your shoulder, “C’mon, tell meee-”

“No!” “You totally have someone.”

“I literally do not.” But you did, or at least… maybe. You barely even knew her, which was the pathetic part.

Robin Buckley was sarcastic and kind of mean and entirely too smart for everyone around her. The first time you’d really noticed her was at your homecoming pep rally earlier that year- she, of course, was in the band, and you were one of the only juniors who made homecoming court.

You accidentally bumped into each other right as everyone was starting to gather in the gymnasium. She ended up dropping her sheet music, and you obviously helped her pick it up, seeing as you felt terrible. You still remember apologizing sweetly and feeling your face go hot as you met her beautiful blue eyes, immediately getting lost in the sea of freckles scattered across her face.

You also remember her not really giving a fuck and pursing her lips as she delivered a casual, "thanks" before moving on like it never happened in the first place... that was slightly humbling.

Then summer came- Steve graduated and was forced to work at Scoops Ahoy, which you tried not to give him too much shit for, since you knew deep down it was an insecurity for him. You'd come in every now and then with friends, timing your arrival with Steve's shifts, until you caught one of the times when him and Robin were both at the front- you switched up your routine shortly after.

It was fascinating watching them interact- Steve didn’t let people talk to him how she did, not usually. But with Robin, he just rolled his eyes and kept talking, like he liked being challenged by her. And Robin looked at Steve differently than everyone else did, too. Not like he was King Steve Harrington. Just Steve- annoying, idiot Steve. Your Steve.

You liked that. Maybe a little too much...

Then they started working together at Family Video, and suddenly Robin Buckley became unavoidable. Steve talked about her constantly- Robin said this, Robin hates this movie, Robin threatened to strangle me with the film of a VHS tape today.

And every time you came into Family Video, there she was behind the counter with her crossed arms and unimpressed expression and stupid pretty eyes.

At first, you told yourself you only came because Steve worked there and you loved bothering him in your free time. Then Robin started smiling when you walked in, and that ruined your life a little.

What really got you, though, was seeing Steve act casual around another girl- the same way he was with you. Which meant Robin probably knew- or at least… maybe she’d understand. And once that possibility entered your brain, you completely lost your mind.

so you started visiting every day, amping up your flirting to be painfully obvious. It was almost embarrassing how obvious you were being. wearing your lowest cut shirts and tiniest shorts, batting your eyes and pouting at Robin as you leaned your elbows on the counter, making sure to push your tits together just enough to draw attention.

Of course, Robin loses her mind. How could she not? She's just so confused, cuz there's no way you're doing this on purpose- why would she look at ME with those big doe eyes? Why would she bite her lip at ME? WINK at ME????

It was causing a lot of inner turmoil. And part of you thought it was working, considering Robin went from glaring at you and not having much to say, to constantly having the deer-in-the-headlights gaze, and always having something to ramble on about as an answer to any of your simple questions. It was quite entertaining, to say the least.

But of course, the less secure part of you was riddled with anxiety, conjuring up hypotheticals that Robin didn't actually like you, and she wasn't blushing out of shyness but rather discomfort. Were you making her uncomfortable? Does she think you're making fun of her?

Steve noticed it all after exactly one week.

“You’re flirting with Robin.” You nearly choked on your drink. “I’m literally not.”

“Bullshit- you totally are!” Steve, ever the endearing idiot, argues with a mouthful of fries as he sat across from you in the booth. It was a Thursday night, and agreed earlier in the week that you'd pick him up and grab dinner after his shift at Family Video. You probably wouldn't have done so, had you known he was going to ambush you about your secret crush.

You stared at him for a long second before scoffing and stealing a fry from his basket. “You’re insane.”

“I’m observant.” “You absolutely are not.”

“You wore that tiny little black skirt yesterday.” Your eyes narrowed. “Wow- okay creep,”

“And you kept leaning over the counter every five seconds like you were going to jump on her.” You almost inhaled your drink wrong. “I was not.”

“She dropped three tapes.” “And what does that have to do with me?”

“She alphabetized the returns bin wrong.” You paused. Steve pointed triumphantly. “HA!”

“Oh my god.”

“She never messes that up,” he continued, leaning forward now with genuine investment in the topic. “Do you understand how insane that is? Robin would rather die than shelve movies incorrectly.”

You groaned, dragging both hands over your face. “Can you at least lower your voice?” Steve flinched, as if suddenly remembering he was in public, and scanned the diner for any onlookers. Once he knew he was in the clear, his expression shifted instantly.

“Oh my god,” he whispered loudly, eyes wide. “You actually like her.”

Heat exploded across your face so fast it hurt. “No I do not.”

“Yes you do.” “No I-”

“You have a crush on Robin Buckley.” he jabbed a finger in your direction from across the table, a victorious grin overtaking his face.

“Steve-” “You have a crush on Robin Buckley,” he repeated with increasing delight, like he’d just solved a complex murder case.

“Okay, how many times are you gonna say it?”

“This is incredible.”

“You are being so annoying right now.” Steve sat back in the booth, grinning so hard it was unbearable. “Holy shit.”

You kicked him under the table. “OW- Hey!”

“Keep your voice down!” you hiss through clenched teeth.

Steve leaned forward again immediately, lowering his tone theatrically. “Sorry. Sorry.” He paused for half a second before his smirk returned. “You’re in love with Robin Buckley.”

“I'm gonna fucking kill you.”

“You sooo are.” You dropped your head onto the table with a muffled groan. While this was obviously humiliating for you, Steve, unfortunately, seemed to be having the time of his life.

“When did this even happen?” he asked excitedly. “Was it the homecoming thing?”

Your head snapped up. “How do you know about that?”

“Because you came home after the pep rally acting weird as hell.”

“I did not.”

“You sat on the porch and stared at our mailbox for like ten minutes.”

You blinked, mouth slightly agape, “…I was thinking.”

“You were gay processing.” “What the hell??”

Steve laughed so hard he had to put his fries down. Meanwhile, your heart was beating violently against your ribs because this was real now. Someone else knew- and for better or for worse, it was Steve Harrington.

You picked at the label on your cup quietly. “I think I already fucked it up.” you sigh pitifully.

Steve’s laughter faded immediately, “What?”

You shrugged, trying and failing to look casual. “I dunno... Maybe I’m being weird. I think she thinks I’m making fun of her or something.”

“What?” Steve frowned hard. “Why would she think that?”

“Because I’m laying it on kinda thick.” Steve snorted. “Kinda?”

You glared at him and he rolls his eyes, “She likes it.”

“Uhm, she probably doesn't.” Steve furrowed his brows and chewed on his straw, “Uhm, I would be the one to know- I literally work with her, and it's pretty obvious to tell when Robin's freaking out over something or someone.”

Your stomach twisted. “Steve.”

“No, seriously.” He leaned forward again, suddenly earnest. “Robin freaks out over plenty of things, but she does not act like that around people she’s "uncomfortable" with.”

You stared at him, waiting for an elaboration. Steve shrugged, “Usually, if Robin doesn’t like someone, she'll let them know- she usually just gets meaner.”

“…She was mean to me at first.”

“Yeah, because she thought you were hot.” Your jaw dropped, "No way..."

Steve blinked, like he hadn’t realized the words were coming out until they already had, then he doubled down immediately-

“She did!” he insisted. “The first time you came into Scoops after noticing her, she literally forgot how to make a milkshake.”

“She did not!” he leaned in further, “She handed some kid melted ice cream in a cup and told him it was a ‘new concept.’”

A horrified laugh escaped you before you could stop it, you burried you face in your hands and shook your head.

Steve pointed again. “See! And now every time you come into Family Video she turns into a malfunctioning robot.”

You shook your head more aggressively, as if trying to rid your brain of the possibility of her liking you back, “She does not.”

“She asked a guy if he wanted to rent ‘Back to the Future’ yesterday while holding ‘Dirty Dancing.’”

You covered your face with both hands, groaning. “Oh my god, now I'm just getting second hand embarassment.”

“I’m serious!” Steve laughed. “You should see her when you walk in. It’s actually embarrassing.”

Your voice came out muffled through your fingers. “You’re lying to make me feel better.”

“I’m literally not smart enough to make that up.” Unfortunately, that was true. You slowly lowered your hands. “So… you really think she doesn’t hate me?”

Steve looked genuinely offended. “Hate you? Dude, I think Robin Buckley has spent the last week trying not to have a nervous breakdown every time you walk through the door”

Your stomach flipped violently, “That obvious?”

“To me? Yeah.” He took another fry casually. “But Robin’s oblivious in a completely different way than you are.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve smirked. “You think she hates you because she gets nervous.”

“And?”

“And Robin probably thinks you’re just naturally like…” He gestured vaguely with a fry. “All that.”

“All what?”

Steve made an exasperated sound, irritated he had to spell it out even further for you. “You know- pretty, flirty, intimidating- all that shit. I mean- you're like me, but like- not like me at all i guess...”

You barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Robin is intimidating.”

“Not once you get to know her... but I mean- yeah sure, she can be- but you wear tiny little outfits and stare at her like you’re trying to seduce her out of giving you late fees.”

Your face burned hot enough to melt skin as you sank into your seat. “I don’t stare at her.”

Steve just looked at you, “…Okay maybe a little.”

“A little,” he repeated flatly. Silence settled for a second before Steve’s expression softened.

“You should ask her to hang out.” Your eyes widened immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d rather die.”

Steve rolled his eyes so hard that you're surprised they didn't fall out. “You are ridiculous.”

“What if she says no?”

“She won’t.” Steve watched you slouch slightly, the pout on your lips deepening

“You don’t know that.” he sighed and leaned his elbows on the table

“I know Robin.” He shrugged. “And I know you.”

Something about the way he said it made your chest ache a little.. Because Steve really did know you, better than anyone.

He nudged your foot under the table. “Just talk to her like a normal person.”

You stared at him blankly “…I think we both know it’s too late for that.”

Friday afternoons at Family Video were usually painfully boring, which was why Robin immediately knew Steve was up to something. He’d been weird all day, and not his normal Robin-look-at-this-horrible-movie-cover weird, either. This was different- he kept glancing at her every couple minutes like he was trying not to smile about something.

“You’re acting suspicious,” Robin finally said from behind the counter, narrowing her eyes as she scanned a returned tape.

Steve looked up too quickly. “What? No I’m not.”

“You absolutely are.”

“I’m literally standing here.”

“Yeah, suspiciously.” Steve rolled his eyes, reorganizing the candy display with an amount of focus that immediately confirmed her point.

Robin pointed at him. “See? That.”

“What?”

“You only attempt to alphabetize things when you’re hiding something.”

“That is a crazy thing to observe about somebody, and I do not do that.”

“You reorganized the entire romance section after you found out I failed my Spanish test.”

“That was unrelated.”

“You color-coded it.”

Steve shrugged innocently without looking at her. “It looked nice.”

Robin stared at him for another long second, watching the way he kept biting back a smile like he physically couldn’t help it. Then her eyes widened dramatically.

“Oh my god.” Steve froze mid-adjustment, slowly side-eyeing her over his shoulder.

“You got laid.”

“What?!” His voice cracked so violently Robin almost laughed before he even continued. “I didn’t- why is that your first assumption?!”

Robin pointed harder now, absolutely delighted with herself. “You DID.”

“I did not!”

“Steve, you’re glowing with heterosexual confidence right now.”

“I am not glowing!”

“You’re practically sparkling.” Steve groaned loudly, rubbing a hand down his face in exasperation while Robin grinned smugly from behind the counter.

“Can you relax?”

“No,” she said immediately. “This is the most interesting thing that’s happened all week.”

And unfortunately for Steve, that would’ve been true.

The store fell quiet for a moment after that, save for the soft static crackling from the old television mounted in the corner. Some cheesy action movie played silently across the screen while fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Robin went back to sorting returns, though she kept glancing up at Steve suspiciously every few seconds. Meanwhile, Steve hovered awkwardly near the counter like a man seconds away from making a terrible decision.

“You should come to Becky’s party tonight.”

Robin blinked slowly. “…What?”

Steve shrugged with forced casualness, shoving his hands into the pockets of his vest. “There’s a party tonight.”

“I know,” Robin said flatly. “You just said that.”

“Cool.”

“Why would I go?” Steve looked at her like the answer was painfully obvious. “Because you never go anywhere.”

Robin scoffed loudly. “I go places.”

“The grocery store doesn’t count.”

“It absolutely counts.”

“You need enrichment.” Robin snorted so suddenly she almost dropped the tape in her hands. “Did you just compare me to a zoo animal?”

Steve pointed at her immediately. “See? This is why you need to socialize.”

“I socialize with you against my will for thirty-five hours a week.”

“And isn’t your life soooo much better because of it?” Robin opened her mouth automatically with a sarcastic response ready to go, but paused.

“…Unfortunately,” she muttered. Steve grinned triumphantly like he’d just won an argument nobody else knew they were having, causing Robin to narrow her eyes immediately.

“You’re scheming.”

“I’m not scheming.”

“You have your ‘I know something you don’t know’ face.”

Steve scoffed. “I do not have a face for that.”

“You absolutely do.” Robin pointed accusingly now. “You get all smug and your hair somehow gets worse.”

“My hair always looks good.”

“Sure.”

Steve leaned against the counter casually, though the effort he was putting into seeming casual made it painfully obvious something was up. “I just think you should come out tonight.”

Robin stared at him for a second. Then her stomach dropped as realization hit her like a truck.

“…Is Y/n gonna be there?” Steve failed spectacularly at hiding his grin, causing Robin’s eyes to widen in horror.

“Of course she is.” The bastard didn’t even try denying it.

“Oh my god,” Robin whispered, horrified, already feeling heat crawl up her neck. Steve immediately started laughing at the look on her face. “Oh my GOD, Steve.”

“What?!” he defended through laughter.

“You’re setting me up!”

“I am not!”

“You absolutely are!”

“I’m encouraging personal growth!”

Robin made an incredulous noise, throwing her hands up. “That is the most manipulative sentence you’ve ever spoken.”

Steve only laughed harder.

“You told her, didn’t you?” Robin hissed suddenly, leaning across the counter with genuine panic flashing across her face. “Oh my god, you told her I’m obsessed with her-”

“I did not say obsessed.” Robin made a strangled noise and covered her face with both hands immediately.

“Steve!”

“She likes you back!” Robin’s hands dropped instantly as the world went completely silent. The TV buzzed faintly in the background. Somewhere outside, a car door slammed shut. Robin just stared at him.

“…What?” Steve blinked. Oops.

Robin looked at him with genuine alarm now, blue eyes wide and unblinking like she’d just watched a car crash happen in front of her. “Steve...”

He winced slightly. “Well.”

“STEVE”

“What?!” he defended immediately. “You guys are both idiots!”

Robin looked like she might actually pass out, “You told her?”

“No! Jesus Christ, Robin.” Steve lowered his voice immediately, glancing toward the empty aisles out of instinct. “I didn’t out you to each other, if that’s what you’re freaking out about.”

Robin relaxed exactly two percent.

“She just…” Steve hesitated for a second, his expression softening. “She likes girls too, and I hinted that the chances of you liking her back weren’t necessarily zero.”

Robin stopped breathing for a second. “Oh.”

“And she likes you.” Robin looked physically incapable of processing that information. Steve literally watched her cycle through twelve emotions in the span of five seconds- confusion, hope, disbelief, panic, excitement, terror- before she landed firmly on denial.

“No,” she said immediately.

Steve sighed. “Robin-”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She literally does.”

“She’s just flirting for fun, and- and you’re totally fucking with me right now, which is cruel even for you, Steve Harrington-”

“Robin,” Steve interrupted, trying not to laugh, “she practically climbs onto the counter every time you talk.”

Robin’s face burned so red it almost hurt. “She’s just- she’s like that!”

“She is absolutely not like that at all, I promise.” Robin opened her mouth to argue again, then slowly closed it, because deep down, she knew you really weren’t like that with anyone else. Not with Steve’s idiot friends. Not with random guys at parties. Not even with Steve, honestly. Just her.

Robin had noticed it weeks ago, despite trying very hard to convince herself she was imagining things- the lingering eye contact, the way you smiled differently at her, the way you’d lean over the counter just to listen for intently to whatever dumb thing she was saying, the way you always looked directly at Robin when you walked into the store like she was the whole reason you came there in the first place.

Steve softened a little at the conflicted look on her face.

“Look,” he started carefully, “I’m not saying you have to marry her or whatever-”

Robin groaned loudly before he could finish. “Oh my god.”

“But you should come tonight.”

Robin looked down, nervously picking at the peeling corner of a VHS sleeve while her heartbeat thudded violently in her ears. “What if she’s just messing around?”

“She’s not.”

“What if I make it weird?” Steve gave her a long look.

“Robin,” he said gently, “your entire personality is weird.”

“Exactly!”

“But it seems like she likes that!” Robin’s stomach flipped so hard she thought she might actually throw up. Steve smirked a little at the expression on her face before adding, softer this time, “Also, for the record? She’s freaking out just as much as you are.”

That made Robin pause. “…Really?”

“Oh yeah.” Steve laughed quietly to himself, leaning against the counter again. “She made me swear you didn’t hate her like three times last night.”

Robin stared at him in disbelief. “She thought I hated her?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s insane.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” Robin looked down again, chewing the inside of her cheek while her thoughts spiraled violently. You thought she hated you? Meanwhile Robin had spent the last month internally combusting every time you smiled at her.

Steve nudged her shoulder lightly as he passed behind the counter. “C’mon, just come hang out.”

Robin sighed heavily, already knowing she’d lost this argument five minutes ago, “This is going to ruin my life.”

Steve grinned immediately. “So that’s a yes?”

Robin pointed at him warningly. “If this ends horribly, I’m making it your problem forever.”

“Fair.”

“And if you ditch me there-”

“I won’t.”

“And if she actually doesn’t like me-”

“She does.” Robin groaned again, dragging both hands down her face while Steve’s grin only widened.

Robin almost didn’t come. Even after agreeing to it at work, she spent nearly forty minutes standing in front of her mirror debating whether faking her own death would somehow be easier than attending a party where you would definitely be present. Unfortunately, Steve Harrington was persistent to the point of being a public nuisance. By the time he picked her up, Robin was already irritated.

“You’re being weirdly intense about this,” she muttered while climbing into the passenger seat.

Steve looked personally offended. “I’m trying to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for help.”

“You literally had a thirty-minute breakdown because Y/n touched your hand while taking a receipt." Robin groaned loudly and slumped in her seat while Steve grinned like the world’s most annoying man. By the time they got to the party, Robin’s stomach had tied itself into approximately fourteen knots.

The house was already packed- music blasting through blown-out speakers while people crowded through the kitchen and spilled out onto the back patio. Somewhere upstairs, someone was screaming the lyrics to a Madonna song completely off-key. Robin followed Steve inside reluctantly, immediately scanning the room against her will, and there you were.

You stood near the living room couch with Nancy and Jonathan, laughing at something Argyle was saying while holding a red plastic cup between both hands. Robin noticed you before she could stop herself- the tiny shorts, the fitted top, the little jewelry around your neck catching the low light every time you moved. Then you looked up and smiled at her, causing Robin to nearly walk directly into Steve’s back.

“Oh my god,” Steve muttered under his breath without even turning around. “You are so screwed.”

“Shut up.”

You excused yourself from the group almost immediately after spotting them, weaving through people until you stopped directly in front of Robin with a grin that made her forget basic motor function for a second.

“Buckley,” you greeted casually, though your eyes flicked over her quickly enough to make her face warm. “You actually came.”

Robin shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket immediately to stop herself from visibly panicking. “Yeah, well. Steve threatened me emotionally.”

“I did not,” Steve defended.

“You literally said I needed ‘social enrichment.’”

You let out a cute but genuine laugh- Robin almost smiled just from hearing it.

“That does sound like him,” you admitted.

Steve pointed triumphantly between you both. “See? Vibes already.”

Robin rolled her eyes hard. “Can you not say "vibes" ever again?”

“No promises.”

Nancy appeared beside you then, smiling knowingly at Robin in a way that immediately made her suspicious, “Hi, Robin.”

In a rare moment of coolness, she tilted her head up in a greeting as she smiled casually at Nancy, completely unaware that her relaxed energy was firing something up inside you, “Hey.”

Jonathan lifted his beer slightly in greeting from the couch while Argyle squinted at Robin for a second before going, “Ohhh, you’re the girl from Family Video.”

Robin blinked. “...Yeah?”

“The one she keeps talking about.” Your head whipped around so violently you almost spilled your drink.

“Argyle.” you seethed between clenched teeth

“What?” he asked innocently. Robin’s brain completely stopped functioning. Steve made a choking noise trying not to laugh while Nancy immediately smacked Argyle in the shoulder.

“You cannot just say things like that,” you hissed, horrified.

Argyle looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”

“Because- because she’s gonna pass out!” Robin was, in fact, considering it. But then she looked at you- really looked at you- and noticed you seemed just as embarrassed as she felt. Your face was burning, eyes wide with panic while everyone laughed around you, and weirdly enough, that made Robin relax- just a little.

“Okay,” Robin said slowly, recovering enough to glance at you sideways, “in my defense, you’re also kind of impossible not to talk about.”

Your mouth fell open slightly, shocked at her forwardness. Steve gasped and then immediately made the loudest, most dramatic gagging noise imaginable.

“Oh my god,” he groaned. “You guys are disgusting already.”

After that, things got easier surprisingly fast.

Robin still got nervous every time you looked directly at her for too long, but once the entire group settled into the living room together, the awkwardness slowly started melting away- mostly because Steve and Argyle were incapable of letting silence exist for longer than ten seconds.

At one point Jonathan and Nancy got pulled into an argument over horror movies while Steve passionately defended some terrible action film nobody else liked. Robin sat wedged into the corner of the couch beside you, listening to everyone yell over each other while you leaned closer every time you laughed. And Jesus Christ, you smelled good. Robin noticed that almost immediately and spent the next twenty minutes trying not to think about it.

Then your knee bumped hers- accidentally, probably- except neither of you moved away. Robin kept talking through it anyway, pretending she wasn’t hyperaware of the warmth of your leg pressed against hers. Meanwhile, you nodded along to whatever sarcastic rant she was going on about, chin resting lazily against your hand while you watched her with a soft smile that was making coherent thought increasingly difficult.

“You’re staring again,” Robin said finally, trying to sound casual, while your smile widened immediately. “Sorry. You’re funny.”

Robin looked away so fast it almost hurt her neck, which Steve noticed from across the room and looked seconds away from throwing himself through a window, trying not to laugh.

The drinking became a problem around an hour later. Not a real problem, but just enough of one that suddenly everything felt warmer and louder and significantly less terrifying.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor now beside the coffee table while Robin leaned against the couch directly above you, both of you halfway through your fourth (or maybe fifth?) drinks while Steve attempted to teach Argyle and Jonathan some stupid hand game, as Nancy watched the entire thing unfold with increasing amusement.

Robin had reached the stage of drunk where she got louder and dramatically more animated with her storytelling. Which, unfortunately for you, was incredibly attractive.

“No, listen,” Robin insisted, grabbing your wrist suddenly while trying not to laugh, “this woman looked me dead in the eyes and asked if we carried ‘The Little Mermaid’ on cassette tape.”

You burst into laughter. “No she didn’t.”

“She DID.”

“What did you even say to that?”

Robin grinned proudly, even more relaxed than when she sat down. “I told her Ariel was unavailable for comment.”

You laughed hard enough to lean forward into Robin’s knees instinctively, and for one dangerous second Robin forgot how breathing worked. Because now you were touching her. All warm and giggly and drunk and pretty.

She looked down at you, absolutely helpless, while you looked back up at the same time, and there it was again- that horrible, terrifying, impossible thing that kept happening between you two whenever everyone else faded into the background. Your laughter softened first; Robin’s smile faded second; neither of you moved, until you lifted your drink to take a sip while maintaining eye contact

Then Steve’s drunk ass suddenly yelled from across the room, “Ohhhhhh, look who's being all friendly now!”

You choked on your drink immediately- Robin whipped a pillow directly at his head without even looking. Nancy started laughing so hard she nearly spilled her beer, while Jonathan looked deeply exhausted already.

Steve leaned in and pointed between you both with a smug grin. “You guys have been eye-fucking each other for like two hours.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, covering your face.

Robin slumped dramatically backward against the couch cushions. “dude you are so drunk.”

“so're you!” Steve slurred, immediately hiccuping afterwards. But even through the embarrassment, Robin could still feel your shoulder pressed against her leg, and neither of you moved away from it once. That warmth, however, didn't last long, and Robin was still glaring at Steve when you pushed yourself up from the floor with a groan.

“I need another drink if I’m gonna survive this conversation,” you muttered.

“Bring me one?” Nancy asked immediately. You rolled your eyes fondly and waved her off before turning toward the kitchen and disappearing into the crowd. Robin tried very hard not to watch you go, and obviously failed, which Steve "nosiest person alive" Harrington noticed as soon as it happened.

“Oh my god,” he whispered dramatically to Jonathan. “She’s literally watching her leave.”

“I can hear you,” Robin snapped. Nancy laughed into her drink while Robin stood abruptly from the couch before she could think too hard about it.

“I also need a drink,” she announced to nobody. Steve’s grin became genuinely unbearable. “Sure you do.”

Robin reached for another pillow from the couch and threatened to throw it at him. Steve flinched dramatically and giggled drunkenly as his best friend flipped him off as she headed toward the kitchen.

The kitchen was much hotter than the living room- crowded shoulder-to-shoulder with people digging through coolers and yelling over the music. Robin spotted you immediately near the counter, pouring something suspiciously strong into a red cup while some guy tried unsuccessfully to flirt with you.

Robin watched you stare at him blankly for approximately three seconds before going, “Did you just compare yourself to Johnny Depp?”

The guy puffed up slightly. “People say I look like him.”

“Have you never been lied to before?” Robin snorted out loud before she could stop herself. You turned immediately (how you were even able to hear her in this mess was beyond her) face brightening the second you saw her standing there.

The guy looked between you both awkwardly before deciding he suddenly had somewhere else to be, and Robin stepped beside you as he disappeared into the crowd. “That was mean.”

You handed her a drink casually. “That was mercy.”

Robin hissed through her teeth, then laughed, her shoulder brushing yours lightly as she accepted the cup. “Yikes, poor guy.”

“He opened with ‘hey beautiful.’ He deserved it.”

“You hate when guys call you beautiful?”

You looked over at her knowingly. “Guys? Yes.”

Robin nearly inhaled her drink wrong, which caused you to grin instantly. “Oh my god, are you blushing, Buckley?”

“I am absolutely not.”

“You totally are.”

“It’s- it's hot in here!” You raised your brows at her in suspicion before nodding sarcastically with a teasing quirk of your lips. Robin opened her mouth with another argument ready, but you laughed softly and grabbed her wrist suddenly.

“C’mon.”

Robin blinked. “What?”

“It’s too crowded in here.” You were already tugging her gently through the kitchen before she could process the fact that your hand was still around her wrist. She followed automatically, past the hallway... and then past the bathroom where two people were loudly arguing... and then past a couple making out against the wall...

Until finally you pushed open a side door leading out onto the back patio, cold air hitting instantly. The muffled bass from inside still vibrated faintly through the walls, but out there, everything felt quieter somehow. Dim porch lights cast soft yellow shadows across the yard while distant voices echoed from somewhere near the fence.

Robin looked at you, taking you in, to see that you actually looked nervous now, which somehow made Robin even more nervous.

“You okay?” she asked softly. You nodded too quickly. “Yeah.”

You opened your mouth to continue, but buffered for a second, seeming to collect the confidence to speak

“I just wanted to talk to you without Steve screaming at us for five seconds.” Robin laughed quietly, looking down at her drink for a second before glancing back up. “Yeah. That’s fair.”

Another pause settled between you- softer this time. Not awkward, but charged with tension. Robin leaned back lightly against the porch railing while you stood close enough that your shoes nearly touched.

“You know,” you started carefully, eyes fixed on your cup, “I really thought you hated me at first.”

Robin looked genuinely startled. “What?”

“At Scoops.” You shrugged slightly. “You were always glaring at me.”

“Oh my god.” Robin groaned immediately. “I wasn’t glaring at you.”

“You totally were.”

“I was panicking.” Your eyebrows lifted slowly.

Robin laughed once, embarrassed now. “Steve used to make fun of me because every time you walked in I’d forget how to function.”

Your smile softened instantly, then you forced the teasing quirk back in for a moment. “There's no way you wanted me that bad so early on...”

Robin scoffed and rolled her eyes, "I might've had some predetermined, unsupported opinions on you, but I've always had eyes, and you've always been attractive."

Her confidence makes you scoff this time- in utter shock and disbelief at her blatant admittance to finding you attractive, "wait- so even when you were acting like you couldn't care less if i lived or died-"

"That never happened-"

"It totally did! You've ignored me soooomany times inschool" your words have really started to slur together at this point, face hot from the alcohol and the flirting, pitch raising ever so slightly to take on a more airy key.

Robin snorted softly. “Okay, first of all, I ignore everyone in school.”

“You wouldn't ignore Chrissy!”

“cuz she's friends with Vicky-”

Your laugh blended with your whining as you leaned a little closer without realizing it. “You were sooo mean to me., Robin”

She scoffs out a laugh of disbelief, a nervous but entertained smile staining her lips, “I was nervous!”

“You rolled your eyes at me once when I said hi to you in the hallway.”

Robin pointed immediately. “That was because Tommy was with you.”

You pulled back into yourself, disgusted, and blinked slowly “…What does Tommy have to do with anything?”

Robin looked away for exactly half a second too long, then muttered, “I thought you were dating him.”

Your mouth fell open instantly, “TOMMY??”

“In my defense,” Robin said quickly, already laughing at herself, “he followed you around constantly.”

“Because he was obsessed with Steve!”

“I know that now!” You doubled over laughing, nearly spilling your drink all over yourself while Robin watched helplessly, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.

“Oh my god,” you wheezed. “You thought I had bad taste.”

“I was being judgmental!”

“Well duh.”

“I said unsupported opinions!” You laughed harder at that, head tipping forward until your forehead brushed briefly against Robin’s shoulder. The contact made both of you go still, both of your smiles fading, your faces heating up more. You stayed there for one dangerous second too long, warm against her, close enough now that Robin could feel your breath against her neck every time you laughed quietly.

When you finally looked back up, your faces were suddenly much closer than either of you remembered getting. Robin’s eyes flicked down to your lips instinctively before snapping back up again. You noticed, of course, your eyes softening immediately.

“You’re so pretty, Robin...” you mumble quietly, pulling the tiniest startled noise from her.

“You’re really drunk,” she whispered back, though she sounded breathless now.

“Mhm,” you hummed, shrugging as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Still true, though.”

Robin laughed once under her breath, nervous and disbelieving and completely gone for you already. “You have no idea what you're doing to me.”

Your stomach flipped violently at that,

“Yeah?” you asked softly, gazing up at her. Robin gulped, nodding before she could stop herself. The porch suddenly felt too small, too warm despite the cold air. Your hand slid against the railing beside hers slowly- enough for your fingers to brush- Robin looked down at it, then back at you.

Apparently, Robin was drunk too, because the liquid courage was all it took for her to cup your cheek and lean in, pressing her lips to yours. It was quick at first- almost cautious, like she was still waiting for you to change your mind- but the second you kissed her back, Robin melted completely.

Your hand settled on her waist at the hem of her sweater as you leaned into her, smiling against her mouth immediately when Robin made a soft, overwhelmed sound into the kiss.

“See?” you murmured against her lips, dizzy and teasing. She could practically taste your teasing grin “You wanted me so bad.”

Robin laughed helplessly into another kiss, as you pulled her back in, gliding your hands up her waist to caress her collarbones and neck, sending a shiver down her spine. You dragged her backward a few steps, so that your back was against the side of the house.

The two of you continued to kiss, the tension only growing tighter as time passed. You bit her bottom lip, smirking as you felt her gasp and part her lips, pleased at how she was reacting exactly as you intended her to. Your tongue slipped into Robin's mouth, intertwining with hers, as both your breathing picked up.

Robin's hands gripped your hips as you slipped yours into her hair, tugging slightly. She groaned softly into your mouth, taking the initiative to push one of her legs between yours. The pressure against your core, along with the action itself, elicited a sharp gasp from you, followed by a high-pitched whine.

You decided to test the waters a bit by rolling your hips slowly against her thigh, pulling a deep sound from Robin as she pushed her leg up and pressed you down at the same time. The noise you let out only spurred her on, as Robin tugged on your belt loops, pulling you harder against her thigh and reinforcing the rhythm of your grinding. You moaned into her mouth, arms fully wrapping around her neck to pull her impossibly close.

You're not sure how long it went on like this, but at some point, you heard the side screen door slam open, scaring the shit out of you and Robin, causing you to jump apart. A handful of fellow drunk party-goers wandered out, slurring as they excitedly greeted you and kept walking.

After that night, you continued to flirt, amping it up to be even worse than before, honestly. And now that Robin understood it was, in fact, actual flirting, it somehow stressed her out more. In her mind, you wanting her and making it so obvious meant she had a lot of work to do to keep up, even though you've been wanting every version of you you've already come to know- the mean and avoidant, the floundering and awkward, and especially the occasional relaxed and charismatic.

If someone asked Robin if she was avoiding you, she'd say something along the lines of, "what?? of course not- why would i be avoiding her??" but if someone asked you what your thoughts were, it'd be a different story.

Steve was honestly about to lock the two of you in the storage closet and tell you to sort it out because he was getting sick of your whining and complaining. But he was mostly annoyed at your refusal to make a move, and Robin's internal system shutting down and not powering back on until you left.

The next time you all went out was a lot less fun. Not because of any sort of odd event, or because the music was worse, not even because the people sucked- But because Robin wasn't there, and apparently that was enough to ruin your entire night. Nancy figured this out approximately twenty minutes after arriving, and surprisingly, Steve figured it out immediately.

"Can you stop glancing longingly at the door, you know she's not coming."

You tore your eyes away from the entryway. "I am not glancing longingly, what the fuck"

No one looked remotely convinced. The worst part was that he wasn't wrong. Robin wasn't usually much of a party person anyway, but after what had happened the last time- the lingering touches, the stolen kiss on the back porch, the fact that you'd spent nearly three hours sitting shoulder-to-shoulder afterward- it felt weird not seeing her.

You'd expected her to come just to hang out with you, and maybe that was your mistake. Maybe you'd gotten a little spoiled...

The first drink made you miss her. The second drink made you dramatic about missing her. By the third, you were becoming a genuine problem.

"I just don't get it." Steve groaned into his beer.

"The beginning of the speech." Nancy laughed into her cup. You ignored both of them and carried on

"I mean, we had fun!"

"We know," Steve said.

"We kissed."

"We know."

"You don't know everything."

"I know enough." You frowned at him.

"That's so invasive."

Steve physically dropped his head onto the table with a drawn-out groan, "You've been talking about her for an hour."

The night only deteriorated from there. Every conversation somehow circled back to Robin; every topic reminded you of her, every joke made you wish she were there to hear it. And because alcohol had completely removed your ability to feel embarrassment, you weren't keeping any of those thoughts to yourself. By the time you started loudly wondering whether Robin was at home thinking about you, Steve looked ready to throw himself through a wall.

"Oh my god."

"What?"

"You're fucking obsessed with her." You gasped, and Nancy laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink.

"I'm not obsessed."

"You called her beautiful six times."

"She is beautiful."

"You don't even know you're doing it anymore." You opened your mouth. Paused. Then pointed at him, only to say nothing. Steve stood up immediately after that

"Okay. That's enough."

"What?"

"You are cut off." You stared at him, incredulously, then at Nancy, who just shrugged. "I agree with him."

"This is a dictatorship."

"No," Steve said, grabbing your shoulders. "This is intervention."

The next thing you knew, he was steering you through his house while you complained the entire way.

"You guys are being mean to me."

"We're saving Robin from hearing whatever's about to come out of your mouth next."

"I have lots of good things to say about Robin."

"I KNOW."

By the time Steve deposited you onto his bed upstairs, you were pouting hard enough to rival a toddler. "There."

He pointed at you. "Drink water."

"I don't want water."

"Too bad."

"I want Robin to come over." Steve groaned so loudly it echoed down the hallway.

"Goodnight." Then he left, storming back to the rest of the group. That traitor...

For a while, you laid sprawled across his comforter staring at the ceiling. Music vibrated faintly through the floorboards beneath you, voices drifted up from downstairs.

You rolled over dramatically and stared at Steve's nightstand, your eyes landing on the phone sitting on top of it- a terrible idea occurred to you instantly.

Within minutes, you were dialing Robin's number from memory. The line rang- once... twice... three times-

"Hello?" Your entire face lit up as you breathed out, "Robin!"

There was a pause, "...Why are you calling me from Steve's house?"

You smiled stupidly at the sound of her voice, "cuz I miss you."

The silence on the other end was long. Robin was sitting cross-legged by herself on her bedroom floor when she'd answered, now she was very glad nobody else was around because her face had gone completely red.

"You... are drunk."

"Maybe."

"You are."

You kicked your feet against Steve's mattress and twist the cord around your finger, "You should've come."

Robin closed her eyes. There was something about drunk you that was particularly dangerous- not because you got reckless, but because you got more honest. Painfully honest.

"I had plans."

"You should've canceled them."

"That's not how plans work."

"It is when I want you somewhere."

Robin's breath got caught in her throat before she sighed out, pressing her face into one hand. "Oh my god."

You sighed dramatically. "I've been having a terrible time."

"You've been at a party..."

"Without you." The way you said it made something warm twist inside her chest, and she had to try very hard not to smile.

"You're ridiculous."

"Steve misses you too." she huffed out laugh, "No he doesn't."

"Okay, maybe that one was a lie." Robin chuckled despite herself, the sound making you smile immediately.

"You need to go to sleep."

"I need you to come here."

"Sorry, but I'm gonna have to say no to that one."

"Please?"

"No." You groaned loudly. Robin could practically picture you rolling around dramatically on Steve's bed.

"Robiiiiiiiin" she hated that she was even telling you no- she felt stupid for telling you no! Especially when she had you whining her name over the phone, begging her to show up and rescue you from your lonesome.

But maybe that's why she was doing it...

Not because Robin knew herself and knew she'd fold the second she saw you, and give you whatever you wanted- even though that much was still true. She was basking in the pride it was bringing her to listen to you say her name over and over again, waiting for her to give in and let you have your way, because you both knew she'd eventually give in to you.

"Sorry, pretty girl, not gonna happen." Robin wasn't completely unaware of the damage she was doing- she had some idea that her words alone, delivered softly by her raspy voice, had some effect on you.

What she didn't know was how you held your breath for a moment, squeezing the pillow you were resting on and pressing your thighs together, before you relaxed.

"Robin, please."

"No."

"Robin!" She laughed. "God, you sound five years old."

"I miss you." The words came softer this time, less dramatic and whiny, more genuine and breathy. Robin's chest tightened, and you were quiet for a second.

"Will you come get me?"

Robin blinked. "What?"

"Come get me."

"You are not serious."

"I am- extremely serious."

"I can't..."

"Why?"

"Because you are drunk."

"Exactly."

"That's not helping your argument." You huffed

"Steve won't take me home." Robin snorted immediately

"Steve Harrington would absolutely take you home." You considered that. "...Okay, maybe."

"He definitely would."

"But then he'd have to leave his own party."

"He would still do it."

"Yeah..." you paused, then continued, much quieter "But I want it to be you."

Robin's stomach flipped, hard. The music downstairs was distant now, and the room around her felt strangely warm. She leaned back against her bed frame and stared at the wall for a long moment. On the other end of the line, you lay still, eyes fluttering as you peacefully waited for her next response.

"Robin?"

"Hm?"

"I really like you." The confession was so simple, so earnest. Robin squeezed her eyes shut, a smile pulling at her mouth despite how hard she was biting her bottom lip.

"You are going to be so embarrassed by this tomorrow."

"Nope."

"You will."

"I won't."

"You definitely will."

You hummed thoughtfully, then followed with complete certainty, "Then I can be embarrassed in your bed."

Robin barked out a laugh, sighing as it died down, letting the comfortable silence hang for a moment more, "okay..."

The line went dead, and somewhere upstairs in Steve Harrington's house, you smiled so hard your cheeks hurt at the sound, knowing you won and that she'd be on her way in a matter of minutes.

She arrived at the Harrington house about 15 minutes later, bracing herself to deal with the crowd as well as whatever her friends were inevitably going to say to her once they realized why she was there.

She walked right past Nancy and Jonathon, who were sitting on the couch, and somehow managed to bypass Steve, who was yapping some girl's ear off.

When Robin finally makes her way upstairs, she passes the other closed doors that surely hide plenty of couples up to no good. She stood outside Steve's bedroom door, her hand shaking as it hovered over the doorknob. Do I knock? She might already be passed out by now...

Robin took a deep breath and turned the knob, trying to push the door open as quietly as possible, just in case. And as she regained her breath, she lost it just as quickly, taking in the sight before her.

There you lay, in Steve Harrington's bed, on your stomach, one arm folded under your head as you rest your cheek on it, pouting, as the other hangs off the bed. Your little dress had risen up to just barely cover your ass- Robin's pretty sure she can see your dark red lace panties, but she tries not to stare for too long.

Not like you gave her much time to stare anyway, cuz as soon as you saw her, you perked up with a gasp. You practically rolled off the bed before bounding over to her and wrapping your arms around her neck, tucking your face, and letting out a soft, satisfied moan. Robin placed her hands on your hips, securing you and making sure you wouldn't fall over. She subconsciously rubbed your hip as you nuzzled your face in her neck.

"Take me home, Robbie..." you mumbled against her skin. Robin couldn't help but huff out a laugh. If anyone else had called her that, or whined the way you did, it would have annoyed her beyond explanation and made her cringe out of her skin... but it's you.

Robin's rubbing on your hips became more intentional on her end, and thus more apparent to you, causing you to whine against her once more. Robin had no plans of doing anything with you tonight, other than going to sleep, but teasing you and getting your hopes up a little wouldn't hurt...

"My house or yours, baby?" She softly questioned, letting her head lean, cheek resting against the top of your hair. You sighed into her neck and squeezed your arms a little tighter, pulling yourself closer against her. It was too easy to tease you when you were like this- Robin wished you were this clingy all the time. Or maybe she wished she were this confident and relaxed all the time.

"Don't care, jus' wanna go with you..." you murmured and finished off your request with an open-mouthed kiss to her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Robin squeezed her eyes shut for a second.

Jesus Christ.

You were going to be the death of her. You were just drunk enough to forget about self-consciousness, clinging to her like she was the only solid thing in the room.

"Yeah, okay," she said softly. "Let's get you out of here."

You made a pleased sound and somehow managed to cling even tighter. The sight would've been embarrassing and borderline heart-stopping under normal circumstances. But for some reason, Robin found it strangely endearing tonight.

She carefully untangled herself enough (not without you whining and complaining, of course) to grab your purse from Steve's desk before guiding you toward the door. You followed without complaint, staying close enough that your shoulder kept bumping hers.

"Oh no," Robin muttered.

You looked up.

"What?"

"Our friends." Downstairs, Steve spotted the two of you almost immediately, his face lighting up with the kind of expression Robin absolutely hated.

"There she is!" Robin bit back a groan, but continued down the staircase with you in tow.

Steve pointed dramatically. "I knew you'd show up eventually."

"Oh, who cares..." You leaned heavily against Robin's side and smiled sleepily.

"Told you she'd come get me." Steve nearly fell over laughing. Robin seriously considered turning around and dragging you home without another word, leaving Steve there to laugh by himself.

Instead, she rolled her eyes, bid your drunken friend a goodnight, and guided you toward the front door while your friends continued yelling things neither of you acknowledged.

The cold night air felt good after the crowded house, causing you to sigh contentedly the second you reached her car. Robin opened the passenger door for you, but you paused to look at her before getting in.

"Hm?" Robin asked, and you looked at her for a moment, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

"Thanks for coming." The simple sincerity of it caught her completely off guard, her expression softening immediately.

"Of course I came." You smiled at that. The kind of real smile that always seemed to make Robin's chest feel too tight. Then you climbed into the car, already half-asleep, before she could even put the car in drive. She shook her head fondly as she took off, thinking about how embarrassing tomorrow morning would be for both of you.

When you arrived at her place, Robin shook you slightly to wake you. She helped you inside, laid out a pair of her clothes for you to change into, and brought you water.

The night ended with Robin trying not to freak out as you refused to let her sleep anywhere else but beside you, clinging to her like she was a life-size teddy bear.

Morning arrived slowly. The first thing you became aware of was sunlight- thin strips of gold spilled through the curtains, warming the room in uneven patches and making it impossible to keep sleeping. Your head felt heavy, your mouth dry, and every thought seemed to arrive several seconds later than it normally would.

For a long moment, you just lay there staring at the ceiling. The room felt unfamiliar as you still tried to adjust and keep your eyes open for more than a second

Your gaze landed on the bookshelf against the far wall, then the stack of cassette tapes, then the movie posters- the cluttered desk, sage walls, and record player filling in the blanks for you.

You groaned softly and dropped an arm over your face. Somewhere nearby, you heard a quiet laugh, temporarily frozen in place, before slowly turning your head.

Robin was sitting on the floor beside the bed with a mug balanced between both hands. She looked like she'd been awake for a while already, her hair slightly messy from sleep and an oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder, the morning light catching the freckles across her face.

"You look terrified," she observed as you immediately buried your face back into the pillow, drawing another warm laugh from her.

As you tried not to think too much about how comforting the sound was, your mind shifted back to the night before, your embarrassment arriving all at once.

You perked up, snapping your panicked gaze back to Robin, "Oh no."

"Oh yes." You groaned louder and flopped back down against her pillow as Robin looked entirely too pleased with herself.

The room settled into a comfortable quiet for a few moments after that. Outside, birds chirped somewhere beyond the window. A car passed on the street. The world had already started moving while the two of you remained tucked away from it for a little while longer.

Eventually, you sat up, pulling the blanket around yourself as you blinked against the sunlight and subconsciously pouted. Robin watched you over the rim of her mug; you watched her back, and neither of you seemed particularly interested in looking away.

The previous weeks felt strange in retrospect- so much nervousness, so much second-guessing, so much time spent wondering what the other person was thinking. Now, sitting together in the quiet morning light, everything felt simpler, despite the embarrassment of last night's desperation.

The realization that being with Robin felt good and simple settled warmly somewhere in your chest, and she clocked it in your expression immediately.

"What?" You shook your head. "Nothing."

The smile that appeared on her face suggested she didn't believe you for a second, but she didn't push. Instead, she leaned back against the side of the bed and stared out the window for a moment.

The sunlight painted soft gold across the room, and you found yourself smiling without meaning to as you noticed the way things glowed a little differently in the light. The threads of her sweater were more shimmery than matte, her hands seemed a little more delicate and fair, her freckles were enchanting regardless of the lighting.

Your enamored gaze never wavered, and for the first time all morning, Robin looked away first, which, of course, made your smile widen.

Maybe the day would bring teasing from Steve, questions from Nancy, an absolutely humiliating recollection of everything you'd said while drunk- but for now, none of that mattered.

For now, it was just the two of you sharing a quiet morning and trying not to smile too hard whenever the other wasn't looking.

Eventually, reality caught up with you, specifically, the reality that you felt gross. Your hair was a mess, your makeup had mostly disappeared, and your mouth tasted vaguely like every bad decision you'd made the night before.

With a groan, you pushed the blankets aside and climbed out of bed, heading toward her door like you'd been here a million times. "I need to brush my teeth."

Robin laughed. "Yeah. You do."

You gasped and whipped back around to face her, "That was mean!"

She chuckled shyly, taking a sip from her mug with a shrug, "It was honest."

You huffed dramatically and drowsily stormed off as Robin's eyes followed, staying trained on the doorway even after you were out of her sight. Once she heard the bathroom door click shut, she immediately dropped her head back against the mattress. Because now that you weren't there distracting her, she had time to think, which was unfortunate.

The previous night kept replaying in fragments.

Your phone call. The way you'd sounded when she'd answered. The sight of you practically launching yourself across Steve's room when she'd arrived. The fact that you'd chosen her- not Steve or Nancy, who were already there and would've been more than willing to get you home safe- Her.

Robin rubbed both hands over her face. God. She was in trouble...

Several minutes later, the bathroom door opened again, causing Robin to look up automatically and forget her train of thought.

You still looked tired and a little hungover, but you seemed to have washed your face and fixed your hair as much as possible. Even when you were supposed to look a mess, you still looked unfairly pretty.

"I'm hoping that unopened toothbrush on the counter was for me and that I didn't accidentally just add something to your grocery list..." you leaned against her doorframe, radiating comfortable charm that you seemed to have regained after washing off some of last night's embarrassment.

"Yeah... yeah, of course it was for you..." Robin was a little breathless as she took in the sight of you, aware that you likely just used her face wash are still dressed in her clothes

The room was quiet except for the distant sound of someone mowing a lawn somewhere outside, as sunlight spilled across the floor between you. Robin pushed off the floor and moved to sit cross-legged on the bed, while you still stood a few feet away. And suddenly all the teasing and awkwardness from earlier seemed to disappear.

A small, soft smile tugged at the corner of Robin's mouth first, causing your chest to squeeze. Without really thinking about it, you crossed the room, and Robin's eyes followed your every movement. When you stopped beside the bed, she tipped her head back slightly to look up at you.

"Good morning," Robin said quietly.

You let out an amused huff, lip quirking up more, "We've literally been awake for an hour."

"I know." Neither of you moved, not seeming particularly interested in creating any distance either. The morning sunlight painted gold across Robin's hair and freckles, captivating you beyond explanation

Across her lips was a soft smile she was trying (and failing) to hide, mirrored by your own before you could even think to stop it.

Then, almost naturally, like it was the simplest thing in the world, you leaned down, and Robin met you halfway, as your lips connected in the softest greeting. It was a brief, gentle kiss- nothing fueled by lust or alcohol or adrenaline- just pure and sweet.

It was a quiet confirmation of everything that had already been building between you. And a much-needed one, at that

When you pulled apart, Robin was still smiling, as were you, and for a moment, the world stood still as neither of you said anything.

Eventually, Robin let out a quiet laugh and shook her head, flopping back onto her bed and staring at the ceiling dreamily, like she couldn't quite believe this was real. You smiled back just as helplessly, glancing softly down at her, before allowing yourself to lie down and curl into her.

For the first time in what felt like forever, neither of you had to wonder.

[thekinghazzastyles]

This was so beautiful omg.

[scariffs]

✦    MY GIRL ON RED-K.

3.2k / nsfw. kara zor-el x fem, kryptonian!reader. kara gets you to do “red” (red-kryptonite), not realizing it’s something of an aphrodisiac for you. cws: straight nsfw, strap usage, mild ass slapping, mild hair pulling, squirting. bratty sub/bottom kara + dom/top reader. strap occasionally referred to as cock/dick. + masterlist.

✦   "HAVE YOU EVER done red before?” kara asks. the club music is so loud that you can barely hear her voice, even though she’s standing right beside you, her hands wrapped loosely around your waist. a hiccup leaves your lips, undoubtedly due to the out-of-this-world alien alcohol you’ve been drinking all night. it’s your first time off earth, your first time in an extraterrestrial club, and as you shake your head no and watch your girlfriend start to dig deep into her pockets, you quickly realize it’ll be your first time doing “red”— whatever the hell that is.

in her hands, it’s glittery, powdery, and, unsurprisingly, red. catching your skeptical gaze, she explains, “it’s like… cocaine? but not as crazy, i promise. it’s for people like us.” her eyebrows waggle to suggest something, but you don’t quite catch the implication.

tilting your head, you pinch some of the substance from her palm. you let the powder sprinkle down into your other hand, and it feels less like powder and more like a collection of fine, small rocks. “like us?” you question.

“kryptonians,” she replies, nodding, “it’s just a little bit. it won’t hurt. promise. it was really popular at home, you know? think of it as tradition, okay? or, think of it as fun with your girlfriend.”

how true that is, it being popular at home, is up for debate.

whether or not you could call krypton home? also up for debate.

“my girlfriend, who, of course, never tempts me into doing wrong,” you chuckle, your tone sarcastic, “my girlfriend who’s never gotten me in trouble, that girlfriend.”

the blonde laughs before pressing against you, letting her eyes wander along the entirety of your face. her gaze feels thick and heavy, almost like a real pressure against your skin. you catch yourself biting your lip just as she smirks, “what? you’ve got another girlfriend?” her free hand pinches your side, causing you to lean away, giggling.

“of course not,” you coo, batting your eyes, “wouldn’t dream of it.”

she rolls her eyes, not out of disbelief but out of playfulness. then, she orders, “snort it.” kara doesn’t wait a single second before sniffing along her own palm, inhaling every last bit before letting out a soft sigh, beaming. how the texture of the powder doesn’t irritate her nose is beyond your comprehension. “c’mon, c’mon,” she starts, nudging you until you give in.

“alright, alright.” you wave her off, then carefully inhale the red powder up your nose. it doesn’t hit immediately, though your nose tingles from the sudden, new sensation. it doesn’t hurt like you thought it might, it doesn’t even irritate the insides of your nose; it just tingles, causing you to pinch your nose once or twice to try and get rid of the feeling. “that didn’t do anything,” you mutter, “maybe it did for you. you’re grinning like a lunatic.”

“i’m grinning because my girlfriend listens to and trusts me.” a bullshit retort, but you don’t have time to give your own quip before she leans in to kiss your forehead. her lips curl into a smile as they meet your skin, all warm and familiar. “it’ll catch up to you later. let’s just dance for now. c’mon, let’s dance.” taking hold of your hand, kara drags you closer to the DJ and the dancefloor. loud, energetic, nearly psychedelic beats become all you can hear. every part of you feels loose and fluid as you move, though it’s hard to tell if it’s the alcohol or the “red” you had a bump of. the world seems to shrink down to just you and your girlfriend, and for a while, you feel completely at peace.

✦   THEN, YOU WAKE up. as you leave slumber, you’re greeted by a mild ache in your lower stomach and zero memory of how you managed to get back to your apartment on earth. usually, you’re the one that gets you and kara home. speaking of kara… glancing to your right, you manage to see the blonde clinging to your body, her face pressed against your breasts. typical. with the slow throbbing at the bottom of your stomach growing more and more intense, you decide to try and get out of bed to grab some water. the moment you move, however, is the moment the feeling shifts, no longer an ache but a pulse. a want, no, a need.

need. it’s all too clear, now. that sudden, warm sensation all over your body. the kind that urges you to suck in a deep breath, to try and relax. your legs close themselves, pressing together. “fuck,” you mumble. it’s way too early in the morning to be feeling this bothered. horny isn’t the word you think of at first at first, but when you glance over at your girlfriend again, that quickly changes— closed, calm eyes, her lips subtly smiling in her sleep… forcing your gaze away from her suddenly becomes one of the hardest challenges you’ve ever faced. trying to dismiss the sudden onslaught of perverse thoughts that come after proves to be even more difficult.

you’ve never been a morning sex person before, but this morning’s different. you’re different. you’re… “kara,” you murmur, quiet at first before raising your volume some, “kara, wake up.” you gently rock her, then pull yourself up into a sitting position which causes her to slide into your lap. “kara,” you try again. this time, you’re rewarded with the sound of her groaning.

her hand slaps around haphazardly, searching for an alarm to turn off. when she accidentally hits your legs and feels skin, she opts to wake herself up. “g’morning,” she starts in a sleepy drawl, blinking up at you. you’re almost ashamed of how hot you find her dazed eyes. “what’s up?”

you shrug lightly, “nothing, really. i’m just wondering… you know, about last night—”

a shit-eating smirk immediately graces her lips and you feel a pit open in your stomach, unrelated to the other presence there. “last night? you were a machine last night,” kara chuckles, poking at your chest, “you were insane. it was just round after round, baby. i love that about you.”

“what?”

“you don’t remember? you’re lucky we’re both kryptonian, you probably would’ve fucked me to death otherwise. it was like… maybe two hours after we had that red kryptonite. you got all antsy, then nervous, asking me to go home. we got here, but you changed again. and then…” she pulls aside the sheets, gesturing to her legs; she’s not wearing any underwear and bite marks still linger along her thighs leading up to her pelvis. “you were a very hungry girl,” she whispers teasingly, causing you to scoff.

instinctively, your arms cross in defense. it would only boost her ego to admit you’re still in the mood, and yet you crave kara, now. your mind wanders, imagining her on her back, bouncing off of you, clawing at your skin, and groaning, cursing, and gasping. your own cunt throbbed at the imagery alone, saliva pooling in your mouth before you swallow. “i’m still hungry,” you let slip under your breath, uncrossing your arms and sliding yourself out of bed.

“still hungry?” your girlfriend repeats, lifting her head in time to watch you dig inside your closet and pull out a sizable strap. pink and thick with ridges: kara’s favorite. the sight alone has her heart fluttering, excitement manifesting first as a smile on her lips and then as wetness between her thighs. “i guess i don’t have much else to do today outside of satiating your appetite,” she finally replies, laying back against the pillows and kicking aside the sheets. a halo of blonde hair splays out around her head while she watches you prepare. “i didn’t think red kryptonite would be a sex-pill for you,” she chuckles.

“well, now you’ll learn your lesson,” you mutter, adjusting the strap along your waist before striding over to the bed, “everyone has different responses to different things.” you pause as you approach her, deciding abruptly, “i want you on your knees, actually.”

“surprising from you,” she remarks, “i thought you loved to see my face.”

immediately, you reassure her, “i do. i just want something… a little different, this time. it’ll just be one round, i swear, i just need to burn this off.”

“yeah, yeah.” kara shifts, flipping onto her back and then getting onto her hands and knees. she glances over her shoulder to find you already holding your strap up to her entrance, wasting no time at all. the mushroom head brushes along her outer folds playfully before you push them aside with two fingers. a shiver runs through her body in anticipation as you tease her cunt with a few passes. after a few moments, however, you give in to your own cravings, gripping her hips with one hand as you urge your cock carefully into her pussy. it’s torture, going so slow. still, you’d hate to tear your girlfriend in two, so you let her natural lubrication and her own want for your strap dictate the pace at which you push in (the pace they’ve set, unfortunately for you, is slow).

when you finally bottom out, you relax your grip on kara’s hips, rocking back and then easing the thick, pink strap back inside. her head drops, eyes probably already closed and fuck, if it isn’t incredibly sexy how she sucks in her breath… “you good, baby?”

“another day in paradise,” she breathes out, nodding faintly. “go on. i can take it.”

“tell me when to stop.” you start to pull out and push in, starting off at a very careful pace before picking up speed to something more casual. it was nowhere near as intense as you originally craved, but your concern for kara always managed to triumph everything else, including your libido. if anything, exhibiting your care for her only made the moment more intimate. something about the self-restraint… maybe you’re stroking your own ego, though.

when your girlfriend doesn’t give you any sign or word to stop, you slip almost all of the way out and then slide back in, burying yourself to the hilt just to hear her gasp and accuse you of playing dirty. “can’t be playing dirty if it’s my game,” you shoot back, accentuating your words with a good thrust.

“oh, there it is,” she chuckles, “there’s the beast from last night.” her hands start to grip the bedding, curling in on themselves as she tries her best to keep her breathing even.

in a mutter, you reply, “i could have you pinned to the floor and you’d still be teasing.”

and then, kara says this: “oh please, you like shutting me up.”

and that? that, to you, sounds a lot like permission. and who are you to pass up on such an offer?

grabbing hold of her hips, you begin to speed up your pace, grunting with every other thrust. the bed rocks beneath you both as you move not only your own body, but kara’s by pulling her back, forcing her to take the entirety of your strap each time you push back in. as her own grunts turn into groans, you snake one hand along her back and reach for her hair, gently tugging on it to keep her head lifted up. “i thought you could take it, kara?” you purr from behind, “what gives? keep your head up, i wanna hear everything clearly.”

the blonde moans, feeling her insides stretch and squeeze mercilessly around your cock. that blissful sensation of her pussy being stuffed full is enough to have her eyes closing and her head drooping despite her best efforts at remaining put together. with every drop of her head comes a chastising tug of her hair, the tingling pain mixing in with the tingling pleasure spreading throughout her body. “fuck,” she grits out, “so good, baby, you’re so good.” a string of kryptonian words follow in another moan, her voice growing shaky. the ridges catch along her walls on the way in and out, her own tightness making things worse for her.

still, you don’t let up. you keep going, fucking your strap into her and admiring how she sounds— desperate, breathless, but not yet broken— and how she looks— covered in a light sweat, toes curled, and knuckles white from gripping the sheets so tightly. on her palms are probably little crescent marks from her nails. the thought alone makes you smirk. “you can take it,” you reassure her. the wet, squelching noise of your thrusts inside was soft at first, but grow louder with every passing second, a sign that she’s soaked. maybe you were wrong and kara couldn’t take it. but, judging from the sounds from her cunt and her mouth, she really wants to, and you’ve never been one to deny her.

the hand not gripping her hair slides from her hip to her ass, palming it over leisurely before giving one of her cheeks a light smack. the medium-sized mound jiggles some before going relatively still. kara gasps, then groans as your strap manages to slip in and brush that special spot inside of her. it isn’t long before you focus in on that area, aiming as best as you can at it. meanwhile, you continue feeling her ass over, the warm, soft roundness of her behind almost worsening your roughness (cuteness aggression, maybe? ass aggression would be more accurate). watching it blossom into a pinkish hue all around only excited you into slapping it once more. kara can take it, surely. one more slap. two more. fuck it, why not three?

yes, the ass-slapping, the hair pulling, the thrusting deep and hard and fast; she wanted it, she taunted you into this. “i think i shut you up nicely, wouldn’t you agree?”

in reply, all you get is a whimper, and hitch of her breath. with every push in, the strap jostles along your hips. you don’t need the stimulation though to grow wet. just the sight of your girlfriend bouncing wordlessly on your dick was enough to make you feel close.

with a soft chuckle, you let go of her hair, letting her head fall forward as you continue stuffing her full. pearly, off-white beads slowly start to dribble out of her hole and smear along your pink strap, coating it in natural lubrication that squelches as you move in and out of her. sweat covers both of your bodies in a thin layer, the warmth in the room and making both of you breathe heavy like dogs. “pretty little pussy takes my cock so well,” you praise her breathlessly, watching her ass bounce against your waist as you two make contact, “takes it like a champ. such a good girl, keeping quiet and taking every inch.”

“mmm,” she whines in agreement. her toes curl in tight as you hit her special spot once more, her entire body spasming. kara’s eyes go half-lidded, all glossy and sex-dazed. the thickness of your strap is all she can focus on, her walls squeezing around it as she lets her head hang. “ohh, i’m close. i’m so close,” she sputters, the words heavy on her tongue and half jumbled, “don’t stop, babe, please. fuck me, fuck me, let me cum.” her bravado disappears as her climax closes in on her, forcing her to beg for your strap in a pitched up voice. “i need you! please, i need your dick, i need it!”

“you want this dick?” you ask playfully, continuing to slam into her. the sound of you plap-plap-plapping against her fills the room— hell, it might be heard from your apartment’s hallway. “this dick that’s been stretching you out, filling you up? ruining your pussy? this is the dick you want?”

your girlfriend’s answer comes out in something of a scream, her body shaking as she approaches her climax. “ah, yes! fuck, yes!” she continues to babble, but you scoot in close and force her head down into the pillows to muffle her. no point in letting your neighbors hear her beg for strap. with her ass up in the air and her head down in the bed, she twitches, toes curling and uncurling, arms giving out, and her cunt flutters before she finally convulses and begins to drip. the sound that leaves her lips as you fuck kara through her orgasm is close a sex-driven squeal that leads to panting and cursing.

as you thrust into her a few more times, thick, white droplets drip from her pussy. when you finally pull out, however, dragging your dick out and then teasing along the blonde’s puffy pussy, a clear fluid begins to spurt out from her cunt. it’s a soft burst of squirt, one that pauses as before starting again when you rub the tip of your strap against her pussy again. you pull away just in time to watch hear her cry “oh, oh, fuck!” and watch her quivering cunt spray the bed in squirt, leaving the bedding around her damp. her poor pussy’s left soaked by the end of it, droplets of squirt collecting and falling down from between her thighs.

“oh, shit…” kara breathes out, “shit, baby…” her legs still twitch as she slowly untenses. at the same time, you watch with fascination, salivating as your girlfriend drips before you like a leaky faucet.

“i didn’t know you could squirt,” you murmur as you move some of your hair back, leaning down and grabbing hold of her thighs to hold her still. without hesitation, you start to suck along every part of her pussy you can reach from behind, licking and lapping like a woman dying of thirst. you’re not ashamed to admit it tastes like ambrosia for you. then again, anything from kara would, wouldn’t it?

“i didn’t know— oh, babe— baby, please,” she snivels, though her words are muffled by the pillow she’s pleading into. “’m sensitive, oh… baby, c’mon, just a little break. you promised one round.”

lifting your head for a moment, you huff, “i never said i was an honest woman.” giving her thighs an affectionate squeeze, you hum. “keeping me from heaven, how cruel, kara.”

“keeping you from destroying me, more like,” she manages to scoff, finally lowering her butt and curling in on herself. she sighs airily, “that was… amazing. just… give me five minutes.”

you chuckle before crawling beside her and lowering yourself down, letting the thick, pink strap brush against kara’s thighs as you press in close. “i would give you the world,” you murmur, reaching out to tuck some of her hair out of her face.

kara hums affectionately. “mm. sounds like the red’s wearing off.”

the response causes you to gently shake your head before leaning over and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “not even close. but i can wait five minutes for before going in for seconds. i have class.”

“class,” she repeats, sucking in a sharp breath, “sure, if that’s what you wanna call it…” her pussy’s spent. her body’s still sensitive all over, and yet, she’s still looking forward to round two. perks of being kryptonian, kara supposes.

or maybe it’s just a perk of you being her girlfriend. her girlfriend who loves her more than anything and is also more than capable of fucking her into a mattress. yeah, that girlfriend.

wow, so… that was a lot. um, anyways, like and subscribe for more girls squirt content, i guess. sorry anon if you wanted something normal IM SO SORRY. also i never got around to describing it but kara has bush OK BYE!

tagging! @nozhdyved, @voidsuites, @jadoremars, @sheriff-bodecker, @chronic-fangirl-222, @neve-naoki, @ft-winnow, @jiji2827, @futuremrscameron, @f4lin3, @hisfavoriteweepingangel, @fangpires ✩ click here to be added!

[thekinghazzastyles]

yes please

[paper-mario-wiki]

do not forget the patron saint of these weeks that we celebrate ourselves proudly and openly in the streets

her name was Marsha P Johnson, and we have her to thank for so much.

remember, the first Pride was a riot, and she was one of the brave souls who endured it to help carve the path which so many of us walk today. she helped found several activist groups regarding LGBT safety and wellbeing. and she was absolutely radiant, too.

thank you, Marsha. we remember you.

[thekinghazzastyles]

AAAHHHHH HAPPY PRIDE MONTH LOVELIES!!!!!💌🩷🤍🧡

[ceruleanheaven]

[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over

[thekinghazzastyles]

Lowkey needed this

[poboh]

Calla Lily, 1984, Robert Mapplethorpe. (1946 - 1989)

[slut4megantheestallion]

I need all of them so badly 😩

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

[saphicangel]

pushing it down and praying

synopsis: it's only a question if somebody brings it up. abby keeps pushing it down and praying it goes away─until she can't anymore.

content warnings: internalized homophobia, ow*n, emotional distress, comphet!abby, anxiety, strained relationship dynamics, references to violence and infected (post-apocolyptic setting), forced proximity, reader is abby's lesbian awakening, abby x lesbian!reader, angst with happy ending.

Abby doesn’t notice the exact moment it starts to rot.

It’s not dramatic. It isn’t a slammed door or a shouted fight that finally cracks something open. Just small changes she ignores until they stack up into something she can’t unsee.

Owen stops looking at her like he wants her. Starts looking at her like she’s just there. Like she’s become part of the background he doesn’t need to think about anymore.

His jokes land sharper than they used to. Half laughs that don’t mean anything. Abby laughs anyway because it’s easier than asking why she suddenly feels like she’s not enough.

She tells herself it’s nothing. That it’s just a phase between them.

She keeps telling herself that.

—

Abby notices the shift long before she lets herself name it.

It starts quietly, in the middle of ordinary days, slipping into moments that should mean nothing. She’s sitting beside Owen on the bleachers overlooking the WLF yard, his knee bumping hers while he talks about something trivial—patrol routes, maybe, or Isaac being in a mood again—and Abby is nodding at the right places without actually hearing him. Her attention drifts, pulled by something she doesn’t consciously choose.

You’re across the yard, leaning against the railing, laughing at something Manny just said. The late afternoon light catches you like stained glass caught morning sun, all color broken across your shoulders, softening the hard edges of everything around you, and Abby finds herself staring. Not casually. Not the way you look at a friend you’re fond of. It’s heavier than that, her gaze lingering as if she felt something familiar in a place it didn’t belong.

When you glance up and catch her looking, Abby jerks her eyes away immediately, heat creeping up the back of her neck.

She tells herself it’s nothing. Just distraction. Just fatigue.

Owen nudges her. “Hey, you even listening?”

“Uh- yeah,” she mutters, too quickly.

But she isn’t. She could pretend though.

—

That’s the first time she feels the flicker of something like unease, thin and sharp beneath her ribs.

You’ve always been there in the edges of her life in the WLF, close enough to feel like gravity, close enough that she can turn her head and find you already looking at her like she matters. Like she’s not something to be managed or endured, but something to be understood.

It happens again, and again, and again.

You brushing past her in the hallway, your shoulder grazing her arm, and Abby freezing mid-step because the contact lingers in her mind far longer than it should. The warmth of you seeps through the fabric of her sleeve, and she finds herself replaying it hours later, lying in bed staring at the ceiling, irritated at herself for caring.

You handing her a canteen after training, your fingers brushing hers, and Abby’s stomach tightening unexpectedly. She pulls her hand back too fast, hoping you don’t notice, hoping no one notices, as if there’s something to hide.

She starts noticing everything. Like your presence rearranged the air and she didn’t know where to stand in it yet. Your voice would always soften when you’d ask if she’s eaten, if she’s sleeping enough, if her injuries were healing properly. You looked at her like people look at altar pieces they aren’t sure they’re allowed to touch.

It shouldn’t matter.

It matters too much.

Abby tells herself this is just what close friends feel like. She repeats it like a rule she’s trying to memorize. You’re important to her, that’s all. You’ve always been close. There’s nothing strange about that.

Except the explanations don’t stop the way her pulse jumps when you laugh, or the way her chest feels hollow when you leave the room.

—

Owen notices something before she does, or maybe he always knew and doesn’t care enough to be gentle about it.

“You two are glued together all the time,” he says one evening, more irritated than usual.

Abby swallows, trying to sound as casual as possible, there’s no reason she shouldn’t be.

“She’s just a friend.”

“Yeah,” he replies, but there’s something dismissive in the way he says it, like he doesn’t quite believe her.

He starts getting colder after that. More distant. Watching her like he expects her to slip up somehow.

She starts paying attention to herself, measuring her behavior, trying to act normal. She leans harder into the relationship with Owen, tries to be more attentive, tries to remind herself that this is what she’s supposed to want. Let’s him pull her closer when he wants. Let’s him kiss her, determined to feel something real.

Sometimes it works.

Most times it doesn’t.

Sometimes, shamefully, her mind drifts, and she wonders what it would feel like if it were you instead.

And she hates herself for it.

She pulls away early one night, muttering something about being tired. Owen sighs, annoyed, and turns over. Abby lies awake afterward, staring into the darkness, her stomach twisting.

She whispers a quiet apology into the silence, though she isn’t sure who she’s apologizing to—Owen, herself, or something larger she feels like she’s disappointing.

—

The breakup isn’t explosive. It’s tired. Frayed.

They argue over something small, something that shouldn’t matter, but the tension between them has been building for months. Owen says she’s distant. Abby says he’s unfair. He tells her she’s not the same anymore. She wants to ask him what that even means, but she already knows.

Because she isn’t the same- not to him at least.

Because she’s been carrying something she doesn’t understand, and it’s pulling her in a direction she’s afraid to examine.

When it ends, she expects to feel devastated. She expects grief, regret, something heavy or final.

Instead, she feels… like she can breathe again.

Not relief exactly. But space.

And in that space, her thoughts fill immediately with you.

That’s when the panic rises.

There were parts of her she treated like they had already been condemned. She didn’t know how to separate wanting something from believing she was allowed to have it.

Without Owen, there’s nothing to hide behind. No structure, no distraction. Her feelings don’t have anywhere to go except inward, and they grow louder in the silence. She catches herself watching you more, and this time there’s no excuse left to cling to.

She starts avoiding you.

At first it’s subtle. Taking a different path through the stadium. Leaving conversations early. Volunteering for patrols she knows you won’t be on. Each time she does it, guilt settles heavier in her chest, because she sees the confusion in your eyes.

You look hurt.

She hates that.

But being near you feels worse, because the pull is undeniable now, and she doesn’t know what to do with it. She tells herself distance will fix it, that if she pushes it down hard enough it’ll fade. She lies awake at night, staring at the ceiling, repeating silent prayers she hasn’t said since she was younger.

Please let this go away.

Please let me be normal.

Please let me stop thinking about her.

They don’t work.

—

The day it finally breaks open, it’s not planned.

It’s a supply run that goes wrong in the most boring way possible—bad intel, wrong building, too many infected in tight hallways that were never meant to hold this many people.

You’re assigned to the same team, and the knowledge sits heavy in her stomach. She keeps her distance, keeps her focus forward, tries to ignore the way your presence hums at the edge of her awareness.

The building is narrow, stale air thick in the corridors. You move carefully, clearing rooms one by one. Abby keeps her breathing steady, clings to routine, to muscle memory. It’s easier than thinking.

Then the infected rush the stairwell, and everything dissolves into noise and motion.

She loses sight of you for half a second, and her heart lurches so violently it nearly comes out of her throat. She finds you again quickly just as you both duck into a storage room, the door slamming shut behind the two of you as she blocks it with something heavy.

The silence afterward feels too loud.

The room is small. Dust hangs in the air, drifting slow like incense after a service no one stayed for. And the only sound is your breathing and hers, uneven from adrenaline. You’re standing close—she realizes this is the closest she’s been to you in weeks—and Abby becomes painfully aware of every detail. Every familiar thing about you that she’s missed.

Her chest tightens.

“You okay?” you ask, heaving.

“I’m fine,” she replies, breath stuttering, hand still on her weapon.

You study her, and she knows you see through it. You always do.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

The words are gentle, but they land heavy. Abby looks away, jaw tight, guilt pressing down on her.

“I thought it was the breakup,” you continue, glad you’re stuck together so she’ll finally talk to you. “But… it feels like something else.”

Her throat tightens. She wants to lie again, but the space is too small, the tension too thick. There’s nowhere to hide. She knows you know something’s up, you’re too smart not to notice.

Because the truth is standing right in front of her, close enough to touch, and she’s terrified of what happens if she finally admits it.

Her eyes flick to yours finally. That’s a mistake. Looking at you is always the mistake.

There’s a smear of dust on your cheek, a small cut near your lip. Nothing serious. But she stares at it like it like it’s personally offended her.

“That’s not what this is,” she answers abruptly, but it’s weaker now. Less certain.

“Then what is it?”

There it is. The question she’s been dodging so hard she’s practically made a new life out of avoidance.

What is it.

Abby opens her mouth, closes it again.

She thinks of Owen’s face when he looked at her after he suspected something was up.

She thinks of how she’d never seen you look at her with disgust. How you look at her like she’s something you don’t want to miss a second of.

She thinks of all the years she’s spent trying to force herself into shapes that don’t fit.

Her voice comes out rough.

“I can’t—”

She stops.

Her throat tightens.

You take a small step closer, cautious now. “Abby, please talk to me.”

Something in her snaps at that. Not anger. Not exactly. More like pressure finally finding a seam at your plead.

“I can’t be around you right now,” she chokes out, and it sounds harsher than she intended. “I can’t think when you’re this close to me.”

Silence.

Your expression changes just slightly, confusion flickering into something sharper.

“…What are you talking about?”

Abby laughs once, but there’s no humor in it. “You don’t get it.”

“Then help me understand,” Comes your sharp reply.

There were things in her she was scared to let reach the surface, like they might become real if spoken aloud.

Abby steps forward before she can stop herself.

The space between you thinning. The storage room feels even smaller, the air suddenly too warm.

“I broke up with Owen,” she states.

You nod solemnly, the guy was an ass and you could definitely treat her better, but you hated seeing her this upset about it.

“I know.”

She swallows.

“I didn’t want him.”

Your brows knit slightly. “You- oh...”

The way you say it, like you’re waiting, like you’re unsure of what comes next.

“I didn’t want him,” she repeats, quieter now, “and I kept pretending I did because it was easier than admitting to what I actually wanted”

Your eyes don’t leave her face.

Abby’s hands curl into fists at her sides.

“And then I realized something,” she continues, voice breaking just slightly on the edge of control. “And I’ve been trying not to look at you, or talk to you because if I did I’d—”

She stops again.

Breath shakes once.

“I’d know.”

There’s a beat of silence so heavy it feels physical.

Then your voice, softer now.

“Know what, Abby?”

Her eyes finally meet yours fully, and she doesn’t lie this time.

“That it’s you,”

The admission felt like relief and terror all at once. There was nothing in it she needed to undo afterward.

Your breath catches slightly, just enough for her to notice.

Abby looks like she might bolt immediately after saying it. Like she’s braced for rejection so hard her whole body is already halfway out the room.

But you don’t say anything, you just look at her.

Like the answer’s been standing in front of you this whole time and you’ve been waiting for her to catch up.

“Abby,” your sweet voice curls around her name like a prayer.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admits, voice barely holding together. “I don’t know what this is. I just—when I’m near you… everything feels right.”

You take a step closer to her with certainty.

“You don’t have to know everything right now,” you say.

Her breath stutters.

“That’s not fair,” she whispers.

“Neither is avoiding me,” you mutter, but there no actual bite in your tone.

The reminder stings but she definitely needed to hear it. She hates that she caused you pain in any capacity. She’ll do anything to make it right.

Her eyes flick down to your mouth before she can stop herself. And something in the space between you changes.

Abby doesn’t really decide. The silence stretches, and she reaches for you almost absentmindedly, fingers brushing your sleeve like she needs something solid. You don’t pull back. That’s what undoes her.

She leans in slowly, hesitant, close enough to feel your breath before her mouth finds yours. The contact is soft, unsure, more like she’s testing the reality of it than committing to it. She pauses there for a beat, waiting for the doubt to rush in.

It doesn’t.

Your hand lifts slowly, like you’re giving her time to change her mind, and settles lightly along her jaw. You’re not holding her in place, just anchoring her there, your thumb brushing once, absent and gentle. The softness of it cause her to let out an unconscious sound against your mouth, that she probably would be embarrassed about under any other circumstances. Instead the nervous edge in her shoulders eases as she leans a fraction closer without realizing.

The kiss deepens only slightly, still careful, still quiet, and when she pulls back, it’s only to breathe. She doesn’t move far. Your foreheads stay close, the space between you warm and fragile.

“I’ve never—” she starts, the words catching.

“I know,” you murmur, so quietly it almost disappears between you, and the understanding in it settles her more than anything else.

Her hand lingers where it rests against you, fingers curling a little as if she’s afraid the moment might disappear if she lets go. The tension that had been coiled in her chest begins to loosen, replaced by something calmer, more certain.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” she says, voice low, the admission almost fragile.

Your thumb brushes along her cheek in a gentle pass, more instinct than intention. “Then we don’t rush,” you murmur. “We can just stay like this.”

The words settle into her, simple and grounding. Abby closes her eyes for a moment, feeling the tightness she’s carried for weeks ease in a way she didn’t expect.

When she leans in again, the kiss changes. There’s less hesitation this time, more trust in the space between you, and the warmth spreading through her chest feels unfamiliar in the best way.

Outside the storage room, the noise is still there, just farther away now, like it doesn’t quite reach them anymore.

Inside, Abby stops trying to think her way out of it. She stays close to you, not pulling away this time, like she finally trusts what’s happening between you without needing to name it.

Her breath catches once, and your name slips out of her before she can stop it, more like relief than anything else. She doesn’t correct it, doesn’t step back, just stays there with you for a moment longer like she’s finally allowed to.

Later, it won’t feel like a moment of clarity, just the first time she stopped fighting something that had always been true. She’d spent so long pushing it down and praying it would go away, like that alone could change what she felt.

a/n: shoutout to Lizzy McAlpine for inspiring this and absolutely ripping my heart out of my chest✌🏼 this song has just always felt wlw to me guys, idk makes way more sense this way. Hits close to home too coming from a comphet lesbian, sigh😔

P.s Sorry for mentioning ow*n at all🤢 it was just necessary for the plot pls forgive me.

[thekinghazzastyles]

This song to a tlou edit literally helped me realize how gay I am so I love this sm omg

[thekinghazzastyles]

Can someone PLEASE help me find this fic rec masterlist 😭😭 I think the first character on it is Bucky barnes and everything for him is organized by trope. I’ve been looking for it for weeks 😭🫶🏾🫶🏾

[cassettemona]

[thekinghazzastyles]

Me with futile devices

[ilovewomenfr]

ride like you mean it

part 2, masterlist

cowgirl!abby x southern!fem!city-girl!reader

cross-posted on ao3

synopsis: after being cheated on over a year ago, and being hung up on it for way too long, your friends finally convince you to hit the town with them. you end up at a dive bar, meeting abby, and end up going home with her - 2 parter.

cw: just a plot for porn, mentions of past cheating, sensual content, teasing, making out, dirty talk, pet names, innuendos, grinding, dry humping, abby calls reader a slut, thinking about sex, mischaracterizes vi for the plot, everyone has a southern accent

word count: 4.1k

!!men dni!!

“Dina, I really don’t wanna come with y’all tonight.” you call from your bed as you see the girl walking towards your door, drawing a sad "I didn’t even say anythin’ yet!” from your best friend. For the past several months, your entire friend group has been insistent on you joining them on their nights out to the dive bar just out of the city, despite your many protests.

“Oh come on, you don’t even have to drink just come out ‘n have fun. You’ve been depriving yourself from a good time over what? Vi, it’s been like a year girl.”

“She has a point,” Dina’s girlfriend now joining her in your doorway. “You’re only sidin’ with her ‘cause you’re datin’.”

Ellie looks at you, offended. “Excuse you, I have my own opinions, they just usually align with hers. You need to out yourself back out there and quit bein’ so gloomy. You could meet your wife tonight!”

“Oh please, This ain’t some romance story Ellie, I’ll get there and immediately wanna go home. Besides, the bar y’all go to is where we saw it happen.”

Concern etches across Dina's face and she gently nudges Ellie to go back outside so she can have a one on one with you. The door closing with a soft click behind her as she enters the room fully, sitting next to you on your bedspread;

“Look, I know you saw Vi makin’ out with that one chick on the dance floor. And I know how much it destroyed you, but it’s been well over a year. Fuck Vi, she ain’t a part of your life no more. You can’t let her control it.” she gives you a genuine smile, squeezing your hand tightly, “You know I’m doin’ this cuz I hate seein’ you all mopey, right?”

“I know Dina. I really do appreciate it, truly.” you give your best friend a hug, “I’ll consider it. I mean you’re right, 'bout the whole Vi thing. Fuck her and that blue haired bitch.”

“‘Course I am. Plus they have a mechanical bull with a ‘best times’ board now.” That might be just what wins you over; “You serious?”

“Hell yes I am. Girl I know you did rodeos as a kid, you need to show all of us how to do it the right way.”

“Well help me find somethin’ to wear!” you exclaim, standing up from your bed.

_________________________________

The Uber drops the three of you off in a dusty parking lot of a worn down looking building, country music seeping from the doors. You step out of the sleek black civic—which looks insanely out of place as people slam the doors of rusty trucks and dingy cars from the ranchers pull into the already full lot. You take a deep breath, calming both your nerves and the threat of your heart beating out of your chest.

“C’mon, let’s get in there, Cat ‘n the rest of ‘em are at a table.” Dina smiles, walking hand in hand with Ellie, the two of then sickeningly sweet. Ellie calls your name as you stay put behind them, “You comin’ or standing out here all night?”

You look down at your much-too-clean cowboy boots, any rancher in the joint will know you’re from the city. Your miniskirt and belt suddenly don’t seem as cute as they were when you put them on. “I look like I don’t belong in there,” the protest falls flat on your friends’ ears. Dina rolls her eyes and walks over to you, “We’re basically regulars, an’ we all look a bit too polished for this place anyways.” she hooks her arm in yours, “Don’t be nervous, you’ll have fun tonight, I promise.”

Ellie holds the door open for you both, and you file into the dimly-lit bar. Your eyes scan the place trying to find everyone, which proves difficult given that it’s a Friday night and all the tables are filled with groups of people around your age.

“‘Scuse me darlin’.” You hear a soft, unfamiliar voice and a warm hand finds itself on your shoulder as a woman and man pass behind you. You can't help it when your eyes follow them, both in worn out hats, flannels, and boots. The woman’s long blonde hair pulled back in a braid, and her voice definitely doesn’t match her appearance. This woman is built. When she finds her table, she swiftly takes her hat off for a moment, veins in her hand popping as she holds the crown of it. Her bicep bulges as she places it back on her head. You find yourself biting your lip, and then you see her side profile, she’s absolutely gorgeous. Your heart flutters, and she looks at you. Flushing, you quickly avert your gaze.

“Hey, you okay?” Dina's voice tinged with worry, her hand resting on your arm. You turn around, cheeks a bit hot, “What? Yeah no I’m fine.” Dina’s face changes from concern to curiosity, she looks past your shoulder to the pair that just walked in. She looks back at you, a grin forming on her face, “Oh you horny bitch. The first girl you see in here gives you attention and you’re all hot.” she nudges you playfully. “Ugh don’t make it a thing. I can think someone’s attractive and not want to sleep with them. And she just walked past, there was no attention.” your objection only digging yourself a deeper hole.

"Oh don't you lie, she's the definition of your type," she shakes her head, “and she was totally eyeing your ass when you turned to me.” She drags you over to where Ellie is now seated with the rest of your group.

Many variations of ‘never thought i’d see you in a bar again’ are thrown around as you and Dina slide into the booth. Once settled in, you casually look over at the bar to see what you want to drink. You never end up looking at the menu, instead, you notice the same woman staring at you and this time it’s her that looks away, cheeks pink. Ellie kicks your shin, mocking you: “‘My life ain’t a romance novel’ my ass.”

_________________________________

A few drinks in, you’re feeling a light buzz as the conversations overlap at your table. Your eyes glance past the bar to the mechanical bull Dina was telling you about earlier, landing on a shabby chalkboard nailed into the wall—the 5 columns in ascending order from 17 seconds to well over a minute. You nudge your best friend, gesturing to the number at the top of the board:

Best Times:

1:27 - Abby

“There ain't no way someone’s stayed on that long.”

“I’ve never seen anyone beat that score. But I reckon she comes on a different night than us. We all came in recently and it was there already. But your eye candy’s come real close to it.”

“Oh shush” you swat at the brunette’s shoulder, slightly embarrassed. “Bet i could beat that seventeen on the bottom though.” Naturally, when someone finally suggests that the group head to the back and get in line for the bull, you’re practically the first to your feet. The talking continues as the group of you walk to the back of the bar, in order to get to the bull, you and the others pass that woman’s table. You overhear a quick and strained, “y’all shut up, don’t even think about it,” from the same voice as earlier and her table falls strangely quiet. You can't help but hope she was talking about you.

A mix of ranchers and a few city folks make up the decently sized line that wraps around the barrier of the ring. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the blonde woman and a couple friends standing up and joining, ending up a few people down the line from you. The excitement in the room builds as everyone attempts to stay on the machine. To absolutely no one’s surprise, most of your group wipes out in under ten seconds, making you all the more determined to stay on for over seventeen. You're the last of your group to go, cheers coming from your friends who have found themselves in a nearby booth.

With a wave of confidence you swing yourself onto the bull, not at all graceful but you don’t care that much. Your forearm flexes as you grab the rein, looping it around your hand. The bull starts rocking, your hips and thighs tensing to keep yourself upright. After a few moments, you get the hang of it, moving with the rhythm of the bull. Ten seconds in, your friends' cheers get louder and you get a bit cocky as you notice that woman’s eyes watching you intensely.

You decide to put on a bit of a show; your back arching much more than necessary, exaggerating the bounce of your hips on the saddle. At sixteen seconds you’re bucked off the machine and land on the padded surface, a soft huff escaping your lungs from the impact, as well as from frustration at your time. “It was hot ‘til ya toppled over. ‘S all in the thighs darlin'. Gotta ride it like you mean it.” You tilt your head upwards, seeing the blonde woman leaning casually against the barrier, her braid falls across her shoulder as she looks down at you, expression smug. Her accent is deeper, with much more of a drawl than that of your friends or your own.

“Just gonna lecture me or are ya gonna help me get up?” you prop yourself up on your elbows and tug your black tube top up a bit, earning you a chuckle. “Can’t get up by yourself?” her hand reaches down and you take it. One arm easily pulling you off the padding. You hold eye contact with her, noticing how blue her eyes are. “You’re irritatin’.” you bite back playfully. A staff member shoos you out of the ring, cutting the conversation short. You pass the woman as you walk towards your friends, her voice stopping you;

“Y’think i’m irritatin’ cuz ya know I can do better than ya or cuz y’think I’m hot?”

“I think you’re irritatin’ cuz you’re irritatin’.”

_________________________________

“So she’s a total ass.” you sit down and lean onto the table your friends now occupy, sounding a bit exasperated but you'd be lying if you said you hated the banter. “That’s not what it looked like. At all.” Dina’s tone blunt yet teasing, Ellie nods her head and Cat adds “there was chemistry” before she begins standing up along with the rest of the group, although Dina stays seated with you.

“Where’re y’all goin’?” your brow furrows, “Back t’our table…” Ellie looks at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, your eyes flicker over her shoulder and you get a glimpse of that blonde woman’s blue eyes watching you once again.

“Why don’t we jus’ stay here?” you suggest, your eyes trailing down the woman’s body, noticing her thick, muscular thighs. Heat spreads throughout your centre as you imagine those thighs around your head. You quickly wet your bottom lip as your eyes travel back to your friends, who are all looking at you with knowing gleams in their eyes; “What? it’s closer to the dance floor. And the bar. And someone’s probably taken it already.” Ellie’s eyes narrow as she sits back down, “Mhm you keep tellin’ yourself that.” You look back over and see the woman shrugging her flannel off before getting into the ring, handing the worn green shirt to her friend. Her muscles now fully shown off in her wife pleaser, your throat dries up.

With one strong arm she grabs the reins, swinging her leg over the bull with practiced ease, boots slipping into the stirrups. Her free hand holds the crown of her hat as the machine jolts to life. You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes focused on the movement of her hips and he ttensing of her arm muscles. She catches you staring with your mouth somewhat agape and smirks, taking her hat off to let it wave with her free arm. Stray hairs that never made it into the braid fall in front of her eyes and you desperately want to push them out of the way. When she does so herself, still looking at your table, you bite your lip at the stretch of her tricep.

The machine swings her so her back is towards you now, lats flexing as she holds onto the bull. It’s been about thirty seconds now and she begins showing off, overly exaggerating the roll of her hips. Your mind wanders but you feign annoyance to your friends once it goes on for longer than needed.

“Ugh, it’s like a male bird.” you scoff lightly, still watching the woman. “As if you haven’t been eye fuckin’ her. Whatever she’s doin’, it’s clearly workin’ on you,” Cat is smirking as she speaks, the remark causes you some degree of embarrassment. “I have not been eye fuckin’ her,”

“Really?” Dina begins, adding on to Cat's comment, “'Cause it looked like you were gonna cum on the spot." Your cheeks flush; “It’s just impressive. And she’s like ripped. Plus she’s been on the thing for too damn long.”

“You’re only mad 'cause she’s been on it longer than you,” Dina points out, and she’s not wrong, everyone knows you’ve got a competitive streak. “That too.” you shrug.

As your friends persist with the comments, your embarassment increases by a tenfold and you desperately hope for a change in topic;

“Y’all want shots? I’ll buy.” That does the trick, everyone agreeing and you head over to the bar.

_________________________________

As the night progresses, the music goes from country to club, the dance floor getting more and more packed. Dina and you decide it’s probably a good time to join the floor. You turn to Cat, who usually ends up being your designated dance partner, to see if she’s down. Dina tries getting her girlfriend to come with the three of you as you get up to dance, Ellie reluctantly caves in and the four of you head over to the dance floor.

The tune of Gasolina fills the room, the boom sending vibrations through the floor. You and Dina look at each other and smile, pulling the other two women onto the floor with you. Voices sing along, bodies bump into bodies, and eyes meet eyes. You grind on Cat as she cheers you on, holding your hips as laughter falls from both of your lips.

The same blue eyes that have been following you around all night meet yours, the woman leaning against the wall opposite to the dance floor. There’s heat behind this gaze, it’s unwavering. Your movements slowing under it. She licks her lips before the moment is interrupted by excited bodies slamming into each other as the song transitions.

You turn towards your friends as Low booms through the speakers, everyone now yelling the lyrics. When the feeling of eyes on you hits again. This time you don’t even check if the blonde is watching, you just start twerking to the beat of the song, both friends and other patrons around you cheering.

After a couple songs, you’re breathing hard and thirsty as hell. “I’m g’na go grab some water.” you let your friends know before slipping off to the corner of the bar by the wall, a cooler and glasses available for those who need—you fill a glass and lean against the wall, the cool liquid feeling pleasant as it passes your lips. A now familiar figure appears in the corner of your eye.

“Was’at your first time?” the woman asks as she steps in front of you, one hand resting on the wall next to your head. Her other is grabbing a glass and pressing the lever on the cooler with her index finger, a low thrum returning to your core as you watch the ease with which she performs the action. “What?” you ask, looking at her amused face, her hand drops from where it’s at on the wall, brushing your arm before returning to her side. “Ridin’ a bull?” she clarifies, the two of you moving out of the way of the cooler, now facing each other on the wall a few feet down, just on the outskirts of the dance floor.

“Yeah, but I did rodeo as a kid.”

“Mm, that don’t prepare you for bulls sweetheart. They’re a bit rough.”

You take a step towards her, placing your hand on her forearm, running it up to her bicep, thumb brushing across the muscle. Your heart pounds hard against your chest and you pray she can’t see it. Your nerves building as you decide to go all in.

“What makes you think I can’t handle a rough ride?” your voice getting sultry and you see her eyes darken, black pupils now overtaking the blue that was there moments prior. “Y’should really let us cowgirls handle that kinda riding or you’ll hurt yourself.” she feigns self control, but her voice is marginally more gruff than before. “I could be a cowgirl for all ya know.” you state matter-of-factly, running your middle finger back down her arm, tracing a vein to her hand.

“Oh please, I bet the only cowgirl y’ever been is reverse,” she quips, grabbing your wrist as her blue eyes appraise you, almost as though she’s sizing you up. It sends a rush through your body, knowing she’s thought of you like that. “Mhm ‘n I bet that’s exactly what you were thinking when I was on that damn bull,” your fingers brushing the inside of her forearm. Her smug expression staggering, it’s clear she’s trying her best to keep her composure. She takes a shaky breath, “Barely. Y’can’t even ride that thing properly.”

“Maybe…” you pull your hand away, crossing your arms. Her eyes now looking shamelessly at your tits, “I just need ridin’ lessons.” Your voice now challenging, which brings a smirk to the woman’s face. She bites her lip softly, shaking her head with a chuckle as she leans in close enough for you to smell her, pine and musk filling the air. Her voice is low when she speaks;

“Talkin’ like this to me ‘n i don’t even know y’damn name.”

You give it to her, “Do I get to know yours too, or do I just have to call ya cowgirl all night?” you ask as you wrap your arms around her neck, her own holding your hips. “Name’s Abby.”She tests your name on her tongue, “How high’re my chances of gettin’ ya in my bed tonight?” your cheeks feel hot for a moment, and your eyes flick down to her plump pretty lips, “They’d be higher if you danced with me, Abby.” She pauses for a beat, as if considering other options. “Y’did put on quite the show back there, pretty. It’d be a shame for me to miss out.”

_________________________________

With the bass pumping, yours and Abby’s bodies sway, bump, and grind. You find your thighs slotted together, brushing against each other’s cunts. Abby spins you around, holding your hips to meet your back to her front. You gasp as you feel her tits press against your back. Leaning forward, you start shaking your ass on her, arms reaching back and taking her hat, placing it on your head. Her hips push forwards into your movements as you twerk, your pussy fluttering.

Abby’s warm, callused hands trail up your sides, making you stand more upright again. You place your own on top of hers and guide them up to your tits. Hearing the quiet, strangled sound that leaves her mouth, you quickly turn around to face her, Abby’s hands are immediately back on your hips and yours resting on her shoulders. She leans down, “This a preview for later or sum’n?” she murmurs into your ear, hands now grabbing your ass.

“Oh you’ll have to work for it. I ain’t openin’ my legs for just anyone.” her eyebrows raise in surprise, “Y’seem pretty easy t’me.” Abby’s nose is brushing yours, her breath fanning your lips, eyes focussed on your glossy pout. “And what gives you that impression baby?”

“Y’ve been dancin’ like a slut all night, twerkin’ on me like y’need t’get fucked hard n’ deep.” You can feel her lips brushing yours as she talks, her words drawing a small whimper from your mouth. Both of your gazes flicking between the other’s eyes and lips, the tension strung tighter than it has been all night. Both of you waiting to see who breaks first. Your tongue darts out of your mouth, quick as ever, brushing your bottom lip and grazing Abby’s. She exhales through her nose before slamming her lips against yours.

There's a fire that ignites deep in your gut, a soft hum escaping you. You keep an arm thrown over her shoulder, the other hand snaking down to hold her neck. Your lips messily slotting together, tongues meeting tongues, teeth clashing. Abby’s left hand holds her hat on your head, the right grasping your waist. Your tongue is in her mouth, flattening against hers before swirling around it. As you pull away, you bite her lower lip. A higher pitched gasp leaving her as she leans down more, a soft whimper escaping her as you pull back. The hungry sound and heavy eyes are all you need to drag her off the dance floor.

_________________________________

Abby lets you pull her by the hand in the direction of the washrooms, the urgency in both of your paces obvious. You pass Ellie and Dina, who are in their own world until the sight of you with Abby pulls them out of it. Your mind is so focussed on getting Abby into that washroom, you barely even notice them.

As you finally the see old wood Restrooms sign above the hall you make a beeline. The two of you rushing down the corridor, frantic in your attempt to find an open stall. You pin Abby to the first door with the vacant lock, leg between hers as you turn the knob, shoving her inside. She immediately flips the both of you, her turn to push you against the door. Abby grabs her hat off your head, hanging it on the hook, “Y’have any clue how sexy y’are?” she breathes, a thick, jean clad thigh between your legs as she knees the door shut. You just roll your hips on the leg, head tilting back and gasping at the pressure hitting your clit:

“Fuck-"

Her mouth immediately finds its place on the column of your throat, sucking a mark against the skin. Abby drags her lips up to your own, planting a hot, teasing kiss before gliding her lips over to your ear, licking it. Goosebumps cover your entire body as she nips the lobe. Her hips roll on your thigh and she moans softly against your skin, your core aching at the sound. Your mouths meet again, Abby lifts you and places you on the sink, your legs spreading apart naturally. A grin comes from her, “What happened to ya not openin’ these pretty legs for just anyone?” Her thumbs rub circles into your thighs, you open your mouth to say something but she slips a leg between yours once more, effectively keeping you quiet. She runs two digits just under the hem of your miniskirt. “I knew it. Y’are a slut.” You push your knee against her pussy as a protest to her statement, her mouth hangs open, letting a moan out. She sinks lower onto your leg.

“Ya don’t look like you’d be a girl who moans all pretty, but here we are.”

“Shut up,” Abby’s voice is still on the higher side as you move your knee side to side. “Make me,” You challenge her as you lean in, the both of you breathing heavy.

The doorknob rattles, “Almost done in here?” a drunk, unfamiliar voice slurs out. The heavy air between you fizzles out and Abby begins to talk: “Yes, yes jus’ a m-“ You press your knee against the seam of her jeans, she bites her lip, stifling a whine, “Moment.” Abby finishes the sentence, shooting a glare at you.

Both of you compose yourselves, you straighten your skirt and fix your hair quickly. Abby’s smoothing over her wife pleaser and flannel. She places her hat back on you, “It’ll help with the hair.” You pull your tube of lip gloss from your front pocket, bending over the sink to reapply. Abby’s face goes back to being hungry, the ogling apparent. You smirk, arching your back more. “Now that’s wholly unnecessary darlin’,” her lip between her teeth, “Especially when we got someone waitin’ on us.”

“Your face tells me a different story,” you stand back up and Abby opens the door, a hand on your waist as she steers you back down the hallway, voice in your ear: “We oughtta take this back to my place.”

“You got a ride?”

an: first time posting in over a year… i’m actually going to try and be more consistent because i forgot how fun it is to write and had a pretty interesting 2025 (toxic relationships am i right😍), im back fr this time. i might turn this into a series where they date or smt, not sure yet. or write more cowgirl abby stuff. part two w the actual smut should be out within the next few days to a week depending on how quickly i finish my assignments for uni. anyways thanks for readinggg!

[thekinghazzastyles]

Ummm me next 😛