Person A: This 100 Year Old Back Pain Is Ruining My Life.

I'm just gonna go cry in the corner now...

Steve carries Eddie’s body through the gate, blood soaking his clothes where silent tears fail to wash it away. It feels like Eddie’s blood is going to seep into is body and stay there under his skin like a tattoo. A reminder for all eternity that happy endings were only ever an invention by people who didn’t know anything about life.

“He’s losing so much blood,” Robin keeps wheezing behind him, breathless with the weight of it all, and Steve wants to say something, wants to comfort her that it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t hurt him, he won’t need the blood anymore. But the words get stuck in his throat as more tears fall.

Eddie’s hand is cold in his, and it will forever haunt him. Still, he’s not ready to let go when they reach the remnants of the trailer, when his knees give out and he collapses onto the soiled mattress. But whatever stains they were, they’re history now underneath all that blood.

History is the thing with the bloodstained beds and lost, abandoned homes, is it not? History is the part where everything gets ripped from you and you’re meant to keep standing. Keep fighting.

History, right now, looks a lot like a future unwritten, with Eddie’s hand in his, cold and unfeeling.

Steve still doesn’t say a word.

The world has larger problems than his failed attempts at grief. Ripped apart at its seams, wilting and rotting and overcome with death and decay, Hawkins needs Steve Harrington to once again show a strength he shouldn’t have to possess.

He helps. Donates clothes, offers his home, his kitchen, his bedrooms to everyone in need. Donates his time, his smile, his thoughts to the people who have the fortune and the privilege to think nothing of him.

Funerals are a daily occasion — with or without the bodies — and so Steve doesn’t even think about it when Dustin approaches him about Eddie.

“He shouldn’t be put on public display like that,” Dustin says and Steve marvels, for a second, that he still has his voice. “He deserves more than a freakshow, and they’re so busy, but they said they could… They could come and—and prepare him. The body. Bring him over. Have a proper service for him, those who knew, those who cared about. Could we do it at your place? Please?”

His eyes sting as he nods and pulls Dustin into a hug that leaves his shirt wet. It’s fine. All his clothes have the memory of tear stains on them, and tear stains are better than blood; a kinder version of history.

It’s a week after… a week since… It’s been a week, when they finally have the funeral for Eddie. Steve doesn’t mean to be there, he shouldn’t be, he can’t be, not when he still scrubs at his skin where Eddie’s blood used to be and he wants to get it out of there because he knows it’s inside him, he knows it’s in there; he knows because he’s hurting all over. Everything, everything hurts. And he can’t wash it away, the memory, the stains, the part where past and future became history and present became nothing but pain. He can’t—

He can’t.

Eddie refused to run and it’s all Steve wants to do anymore. It’s not fair. It’s not.

He shuts himself away from the world in his room and tries to scratch it away, the memory of the blood. He wants to scream and to shout and to talk and to apologise, but he can’t, because there are no words.

And then Dustin is talking, and Steve stops tearing at his skin to listen. He can’t hear the words but he can hear the pain, he can hear the way Dustin is stronger than him, always has been, and he opens the door. Slips down the stairs slowly until he sees it. The open coffin with Eddie’s body, his hair glowing in the light of the afternoon sun.

“He was the coolest, kindest, bravest guy I know,” Dustin says, but Steve doesn’t want to hear it, so he stops listening as he reaches the foot of the stairs and keeps walking, closer to Eddie, always closer, always so, so close.

And he misses the touch, misses those dark brown eyes that were so kind, and he wants to see them again. They’re closed. They shouldn’t be closed; the world has to see. Has to see the kindness in those eyes, the beauty, the wonderful things they’d think of.

Silence falls around him but Steve doesn’t care, doesn’t really notice; not when those eyes are closed, not when he reaches out to open them as a way to right all the wrongs in the world now.

But then his eyes fall to Eddie’s bare throat, and everything is wrong once more, no chance to right it, because—

“Where’s his pick? He needs-Eddie needs his plectrum to play. He can’t play without his pick, he can’t— The bats will get him, please, you have to… He needs his pick.”

And Steve falls apart as he finds his words again, words that rip into his very soul, tearing at the fabric of the world itself and turning it upside down. There are hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him away from the coffin, but he clings to it even as his knees start to give out while sobs wreck through his body.

“It’s okay, boy,” someone tells him, and Steve falls back into Hoppers chest, strong arms holding him up instead of pulling him away from Eddie. “It’s okay.”

He’s shaking his head, vision blurry now, and maybe there’s a bit of irony in the way that Steve and Eddie will both have had their last visions of each other be blurred with tears.

“It’s not, it’s not okay,” he insists, trying to shake off the hands holding him up. He wants to fall apart; wants to break; wants to be gone. Don’t hold me together, let me shatter. “You— You all wanted me to talk. You wanted me to!”

He’s gasping for breath again, hiccuping through the tears and the words and the weakness.

“I’m talking. Eddie, I love you. I wanna love you, and now I’m gonna, forever, but I don’t want the sad kind of forever. I want… Please, please he needs his pick, he can’t play without it.”

And then he’s on the floor, sobbing, and the words are gone again. Robin, Dustin and Hopper go down with him, but even they can’t put him together now.

“Steve,” Dustin says, voice hoarse with the weight of his own tears. “It’s here, see? I’ve got his pick, it’s safe. Do you wanna give it to him? Make sure he has it forever?”

He does. But he can’t bring himself to let go. Wayne comes up and places a scratched up piece of plastic on Eddie’s chest.

“He used to leave ‘em all ‘round the trailer. I always keep ‘em with me the days. Found this one under the couch before we… He’ll have it now, see? He can play again, our boy can play again.”

Steve falls apart until he doesn’t remember what piece of himself goes where. But it’s fine. Eddie will play again.

@thefreakandthehair technically you didn’t do this, but you sure didn’t discourage me from writing this (inspired by the My Girl funeral scene)

i love your whole dad!steve concept it truly makes my heart burst! set in the singlemom!reader verse, could you do something where it’s steve’s birthday and the reader surprises him with an adoption certificate asking him to adopt the baby?

That would be the CUTEST THING. Oh yes, I’m so excited for this! I have to use this gif because imagine how stunned and surprised and just shocked in general he would be. My heart 😭 (also, fun fact: I ended up including my little fur baby’s name in here)

“Surprise!”

“Jesus Christ! You scared the shi- uh crap out of me!”

Steve put a hand to his chest, eyeing the toddler in your arms, glad he’d caught the swear just in time. These days, she was repeating anything she heard so he’d tried to be extra careful what he said when he was around her.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” you smiled, putting the little girl in your arms down so she could greet him too.

She went flying the short distance between you and Steve, running over to him to hug his legs.

“Happee birfday daddy!” she squealed, wrapping her small arms around his legs.

He smiled, bending down to pick her up.

“Thank you baby girl and mommy,” he said looking over at you, the smile lighting his face.

“I got you pwesent,” she said, beaming up at her daddy.

“Did you now? What did you get me? Hmm, a tie?”

She shook her head emphatically.

You raised a brow, amused, “You? I’m a tie?”

He stuck his tongue out at you, playfully.

“Let’s see,” Steve resumed his guessing game with his and your daughter, “Is it…a book?”

“No!” she grinned.

“Is it your favorite stuffed bunny named Hoppy?”

“No, silwee!” she giggled.

Still working on her pronunciation of the word, “silly” came out much cuter and funnier than it should’ve, causing Steve to laugh with joy.

“Is it a million kisses for daddy?” he asked again, then started attacking her face with kisses, giving her numerous ones all over her face.

The little girl squealed with joy. It was one of her favorite things her daddy did, was give kisses.

“Mommy have pwesent,” she finally said when Steve stopped, pointing towards you.

You held a print out caked shaped design that the toddler had “painted”. But, at the top, you’d done a little activity with her. You’d dipped her entire finger into different paints and made a few “candles” out of her finger prints at the top of the cake. It had turned out adorable.

“What is this?” Steve asked, taking the picture, looking at it.

The smile hadn’t left his face yet, but it grew even brighter as he looked at the picture.

“Did you do this for me, sweetie?” he asked.

Your daughter nodded with a smile.

“Mommy hepped.”

“Mommy helped?” he translated.

“Yesh.”

“Well, I love it,” he kissed the top of her head, “Thank you so much princess.”

“You welcome, daddy.”

“The kids, Robin, Eddie, Nancy and Joyce all dropped off their presents earlier,” you chuckled, nodding to the pile of wrapped presents and gift bags on the couch, “The living room looks like Christmas currently.”

Joyce and Mrs. Wheeler were hosting a cook out party for Steve at the Wheeler’s house this weekend for everyone to gather and celebrate your boyfriend, but most of the gang had decided to drop off their gifts for him early, on his actual birthday. Today, he was celebrating with you and your daughter.

“Well I guess that means someone is going to have to help open all those presents. Who should it be?” Steve tapped his chin, thinking.

“Meme! Meme! Meme! Pwease, daddy?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, of course you can.”

He kissed her cheek.

“What’s for dinner? It smells amazing in here,” he said, following you further into the kitchen.

“I fixed spaghetti since the munchkin requested it,” you said, sparing the little girl an amused glance, “I hope that’s okay.”

“Pagetti!” she cheered.

“Well, then I’m in luck because your spaghetti is my favorite,” he smiled, giving you a kiss as well.

“No,” your baby whined, trying to pull Steve’s face away from you.

She was currently going through a bit of a jealous phase where she wanted Steve’s attention at all times.

“Hey, now that’s not nice, sweetheart. There’s enough of daddy to share okay? See, look. I can give you a kiss as well.”

He kissed her cheek, then her forehead to prove his point.

“Now, can you say sorry to mommy?”

“I sowwy,” she frowned, not liking to upset either one of you.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” you soothed, running a hand over her hair.

“Go get cleaned up, dinner is almost ready, okay?” you told Steve.

“You heard what mommy said. Let’s go wash our hands okay?” he bounced her in his arms.

“Oh I got a present for you, too, but I’ll give it to you later, if that’s alright?” you said.

“Oh,” he smirked, “That’s more than alright.”

“Steve!” you huffed, hitting his chest playfully, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Alright, but can it be arranged? It is my birthday after all. I deserve some dessert.”

He gave you a grin, with a suggestive little wiggle of his brows before he walked out with the little girl, heading towards the bathroom.

“Besides cake, I mean!” he hollered.

You laughed, shaking your head at the audacity of him.

•

It wasn’t until after yours and Steve’s daughter was down for the night that you got the chance to give Steve your present.

True to his word, he’d let her help him open his gifts. She was a mess after the spaghetti dinner though, so bath time came first. Per Steve’s request, you and he gave her a bath together. She absolutely loved the extra attention, having both mom and dad with her for bath time was a rare occurrence. It was usually one or the other.

While Steve got her into her pajamas, you drained the bathwater and cleaned up the bathroom, not leaving it for later when you knew you’d be too tired to deal with the mess.

With hair still wet from the bath and in fresh pajamas, Steve set her in his lap and let her help him open presents. He let her pick which one to start with and it was off from there. You had a kick watching both of them, the toddler just as excited as Steve was. You appreciated how he included her in so much; you appreciated it more than he probably knew.

It wasn’t until the last few presents that her energy drained and the tell-tale signs of her sleepiness kicked in. She was yawning and rubbing her eyes, beginning to fuss at the mention of bedtime.

She fell fast asleep just before the last present and after opening it as quietly as he could—even though it didn’t disturb her the slightest—Steve carried her to bed and tucked her in.

He was tidying up the floor when you walked back in the room, picking up the pieces of wrapping paper and tissue paper from gift bags that had been carelessly thrown by an excited two and a half year old.

You hid the gift behind your back as you entered, biting your lip nervously. You were afraid that he might not like it as much as you’d hoped he would when you’d first received it. It was a medium sized rectangular gift box, wrapped in birthday wrapping paper, but it was what was inside that was the true gift.

Steve was chuckling to himself when you first entered and now he looked up, seeing you, filling you in on what was amusing him so much.

“I can’t believe Henderson got me four cans of Farrah Fawcett hairspray. What a kid.”

“Steve? Why don’t you sit down?”

Sensing your somber mood, he sat on the couch.

“What’s up?”

You sat down next to him, revealing the present from behind your back.

“Happy birthday.”

“Sweetheart, you didn’t have to get me anything,” he smiled, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you into him before kissing your temple.

“I know. But I wanted to. Go ahead, open it.”

He tore into the wrapping paper at a much more normal speed than that of the excited toddler earlier. He peeled away the wrapping to see the gift box you knew was underneath. He peered at you curiously before lifting the lid.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper was a small stack of papers. Steve’s brows crinkled in confusion as his eyes scanned over the paper on top.

“What’s this?” he asked.

He looked back down at his gift, his eyes widening when they landed on the word “adoption”.

“Is this…?” he started, not quite sure how to finish his sentence.

“It’s adoption papers. To legally adopt baby girl. Make her a Harrington,” you finished for him.

He stared at you, blinking. Then he set the box aside, taking your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

You saw tears in his eyes. You also saw a smile on his face. He was so happy and that erased any nerves you’d felt before he’d opened it.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

He kissed you then, holding your face firmly in his hands, trying to convey his gratefulness, his happiness, his love, in the single kiss.

As if that hadn’t been enough, he made sure you knew his answer when you two had parted.

“I’d love to adopt her.”

It was the best birthday Steve had ever had.

My requests are open!

Requests for-

STRANGER THINGS

Eddie Munson

Billy Hargrove

Steve Harrington

TEEN WOLF

Stiles Stilinski

Liam Dunbar

Theo Raeken

Derek Hale

MARVEL

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Loki Odinson

I won't write smut, or boyxboy, sorry if that inconveniences you, I just don't feel comfortable writing that, and I'm not good with it. I will however write up to the moment and after, but not the actual smut

I also don't write for the actor, just the characters

I will write based off of songs, scenes, movies or shows. Pretty much any concept, I can write.

If you request, please give me a few days, up to 2 days to write, edit and publish your request.

Have a blessed day!!!❤️

hi, can i have a request? this might be a sensitive topic and it’s totally okay if you’re uncomfortable with it, i get it! but my grandma died a few days ago and it was my birthday the next day, so you know..there was nothing to celebrate..and i was wondering if you could write chris x reader where he gently wakes her up, holding a cupcake with a candle in it and she’s like “what’s that”, forgetting it’s her birthday so he tells her and it’s jist soft? now when i write it it doesn’t make any sense but.. would it be possible to write something like that? or sth similar or sth soft idk and again if not, that’s okay!!..i love you, thank you!❤️(and i’m sorry for bothering you:(

I was about to go to sleep, but then I got this, and it made me tear up. I’m very, very sorry for your loss ❤️ I hope this is somewhat along the lines of what you were looking for, love. And please know you're never bothering me!

warnings: loss of a relative, refer to request

~~~

He didn't get much rest – in and out of sleep while making sure you got the sleep you need. He held you close to him, rubbing your back as you let out lingering sobs throughout the night until you finally drifted into deep sleep.

He knows yesterday was a difficult, long day for you and your family, but it's important to him that you’re not forgotten about, so he carefully gets out of bed, not wanting you to wake up yet.

In the kitchen, he uncovers the small batch of cupcakes he made early yesterday. Removing one from the tin, he finds the frosting and decorates it, adding some sprinkles and a candle.

Quietly walking back to the bedroom, he sits on the edge of the bed next to you, and gently caresses your cheek and strokes your arm to wake you.

“Good morning,” he smiles, voice low and calming.

Blinking the sleep away, you furrow your brow seeing the cupcake in his hand. “What are you doing, babe?”

“Happy birthday,” he says, and you realize throughout all that's happened in the last 24 hours, you forgot what day it is.

Sitting up, your eyes instantly sting with fresh tears, and he sets the cupcake on the bedside table, swiftly putting his arms around you. “I hope this is okay, I just think she'd really want you to still have your special day.”

He feels you nod against his shoulder. “Of course this is okay, I just forgot.” Your voice cracks, and he hugs you tighter, slightly rocking you back and forth.

“We can do whatever you want today, if you don't want anything more than this cupcake, we won't do anything else, I just thought you deserved this.”

Your tears are wetting his shirt now, and you don't trust your voice to say anything, so you stay like that – him rubbing your back, pressing soft kisses to your hair – until you manage to whisper, “Thank you.”

Can someone please write more Tyler Hoechlin fanfics?

panic attack

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: When you have a panic attack at one of your movie nights with the party, you ask them to call the one person who can help.

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Warnings: panic attack, soft,protective!Billy, concerned!party, fluff

a/n: okay, so this one is another from the old account. i wasn’t really sure if i was going to repost this one, just because i’m not as fond of billy as i used to be, but a lovely anon asked me to repost this one so here it is! i made a few edits and billy is definitely very ooc but i hope you enjoy nevertheless <3

NOT MY GIF! CREDIT TO THE OWNER!

You let out an amused snort at something Steve had said as you sat on one of the couches in Mike’s living room. Max and El were tucked under each of your arms, snuggled into your side as they shook against you with laughter. 

You were having your bi-weekly movie night with the party, Steve and Robin. You were currently on your third movie and, surprisingly, everyone was seated and watching the movie instead of running around or arguing like usual. 

You looked around the room, smiling at the people you got to call family, however your smile faltered slightly as you wished your boyfriend could be here too. You and Billy had been dating for a few months, secretly, and contrary to popular belief, he was a real gentleman. He treated you like a princess and he’s been there for you through tough times, especially your frequent panic attacks.

Keep reading

Stealth suit appreciation post.

“I like the stealth suit from Cap 2. The dark, navy blue suit from the opening of Winter Soldier when I’m on the Lemurian Star, messing people up on that ship. And in the elevator! That’s my favourite. I have requested it every movie, but the people at Marvel really like a little red. They like a little red in there. Which is fine. It’s Cap; I get it.” - Chris Evans

This was so cute!!🥹

Hey! How are you?

I was wondering if you could do one where during a Comic Con a fan ask to Joseph Quinn about some pictures that have been circulating on the internet (in the pictures you can see Joseph and reader walking on the street, holding hands or kissing), like fans are asking if the person on the pictures is his partner. And Joseph just start talking about the reader and blushing by the thought of the reader, like it’s all very fluff and sweet.

I’m sorry if I wasn’t very specific or it’s not understandable, english it’s not my first language. Take the request if you want to and take your time.

Official.

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff

————————————————————————————————————————

A secret relationship was never an easy one to keep, and dating someone so prevalent in the public eye.. secrets don’t tend to last long.

You and Joseph had done a fairly decent job at keeping the relationship private, and out of the media. That is until one night, you’d decided to go out; in celebration of his success in Stranger Things, and to just be in each other’s company after so much time apart.

You and him had just finished dinner, and you were out for a stroll in the streets of London; hand in hand. That’s when you’d spotted a few fans across the street, lights flashing as they captured pictures of you two. You and Joseph both hurriedly made your way to his flat, but not before the photos were already being posted online.

Joseph had yet to come forward about the photos, and the mystery woman in them. Trying his best to just let it blow over instead of blow up.

——————————————————————————

You were sat backstage, watching as the cast of Stranger Things answered questions from the audience. You’d laugh at some of the questions being asked, and adored how supportive the fans were of your boyfriend and his newfound fame.

You see a girl be handed a microphone, looking ever so nervous to be standing there. “Hi, I’m..” She introduces herself. “My question is for Joe Quinn.” Joseph smiles widely, ready for anything she throws at him. “So I’m sure you’ve heard about the photos that have been circulating the internet, of you and a.. mystery woman. I was just wondering, is she your girlfriend?” She shyly asks, and you gasp quietly from backstage.

Your eyes land on Joe, who looks just as shocked as you. You can see the blush spreading across his upper chest and face. He laughs loudly, “That’s quite the question you have there.” Clearly nervous, he looks around at his cast mates.

“But yes, that is my girlfriend. I hadn’t made it official publicly but now seems as good a time as any..” He rambles on, a shy, embarrassed smile on his face as he rubs his face with his hand.

“I apologize for putting you on the spot, but she’s very pretty!” The fans tries to save herself. “That’s okay! I don’t mind, it would be out eventually.. and yes, she is. She’s very pretty.” He takes a quick glance at you backstage, before returning his attention to the fan. His face is bright red, and you can tell he’s a bit flustered.

“Thank you, you’re amazing.” The fan finishes, handing the mic to the next person. “My question is pretty simple, for Joe as well.” The girl starts, and Joe bites his lip nervously. “Can we meet her? Like.. is she here?” Joe laughs loudly, before turning to the event manager, whispering something in her ear. The manager nods briefly, saying something back to him.

“Yeah, she’s here. Fuck it! Why not?” He gasps, covering his mouth quickly. “Can I say that?” He mentally shames himself and the audience laughs. “Be right back!” He gets up, running over to you. Your eyes are wide as he places his hands on your shoulders, “Do you want to? It’ll be quick.” He searches your eyes. You nod, “Fuck it!” You laugh, copying his comment from before. He smiles, taking your hand and leading you onto the stage with him.

The audience goes crazy at your appearance, screaming and pointing. Joe takes the mic, glancing at you with his hand in yours. “This is my girlfriend, (Y/N).” He introduces, holding the mic to you. “Hi, everyone. Lovely to meet you all.” You speak shyly, earning a scream from the audience in return. You laugh before you start to make your way off stage, Joseph stops you, grabbing your hand and places a soft kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

The audience absolutely loses it, crying and screaming with joy at Joseph’s PDA. “Isn’t she lovely?” He laughs into the mic before finding his seat again. You hear someone in the crowd scream, “We love her!” Before they continue on with the questions, and you watch from the back in awe.

It’s official.

Heyyo! Could I get a fic where Steve is a cowboy and flirts with you at the local rodeo?? Extra points if there is a confident lean in a doorway/on a post to get all up in readers face? ~insert eyebrow wiggle here~

**Squeals** I fucking love a cowboy. And a MODERN cowboy! My small town heart can’t take it. Side Note: this just made me wanna write a whole bunch of stuff for cowboy Steve and Bucky and it's all your fault. Thanks for combining my two hyperfixations. 

Characters/Pairings: cowboy!Steve Rogers x Reader

Content/Warnings: if you don't like rodeos, this one ain't for you. 

Author Note: I just… really like cowboy Steve.

Beta read by the ever lovely @voice-of-velhart

The county night rodeo was something you look forward to all year. Held at the fairgrounds outside of your little town nestled at the base of the foothills, it was the kind of event that made life in a little town like yours feel real. The lights, the food, the market, the roar of the crowd, but mostly. The cowboys. 

Ropers, racers, and riders from all over come to this little event every year to show off and make a little cash. The prizes for winning weren’t top notch, and they weren’t part of the certified circuit. So it wasn’t like  there were big names making their way through, but that was part of the fun. A lot of the competitors were just good old boys using skills they use everyday back on the ranch. 

Well, everyone but the bull and bronco riders. 

Riders were a breed of their own. In it for the thrill and the glory, really nothing productive comes out riding a bull. Save for broken bones and a back that can’t stand straight by 40. At least bronc riders are showing part of the skill it actually takes to break a horse, but bulls were a pure dick measuring contest. Which was half the fun. 

You told your friends as much as you settled into your seats in the front row. “I mean really it’s just about looking cool to the other guys ya know.”

“Oh, I don’t know. They look pretty cool to me too.” Hannah drooled as another rider walked by. Dark hat pulled low, his protective vest undone to reveal the dark shirt beneath. 

You rolled your eyes. Yeah, sure, there was a certain magnetism to men like that. A kind of gladiatorial bravado that came along with all needlessly dangerous things. But you knew bull riders, in most cases it really was all bravado and they almost never stayed. 

“Sexy, you mean they look sexy. Believe me once they open their mouth nine out of ten times they aren’t as cute. Now if you want a real cowboy you want a roper. Team roping or steer wrestling are my preferred but…” 

 “Teaching the lady how to catch a cowboy I see.” A voice as warm as whiskey radiated through you. You glance down to see a big golden cowboy draped over the fence below you, his wide shoulders and big arms taking up most of the panel. “Did she teach you the hat trick yet?”

You bite your cheek, trying to fight the urge to smirk back, because his smile was contagious. Paired with that brown Stetson and a pair of cornflower eyes that were looking at you like you were made of candy. You could see this man was a charmer. He was a rider, he had to be. And guessing by his gear and spurs probably a bull rider. 

“The hat trick?” Hannah asked, looking between you and the cowboy as you leaned back on your bench seat. 

“It’s just a game they play, a little trick good ol boys like him use to claim a girl at events like these.” 

“Oh, come on now darlin’, it’s a rule not a game.” You roll your eyes. Having never been too impressed with men who thought they could claim you with a hat. “Wear the hat and ride the cowboy.” He clarifies for Hannah, with a wink making her giggle. But his glaze immediately falls back on you. “I’m Steve by the way.” 

“I don’t recall asking.” You tease. But Hannah gives you a smack on the arm, her eyes boring into the side of your head. Clearly already under this pretty cowboys spell. Amateur. 

“It’s ok darlin’, I'll give you that one for free. Can I have your name?” he asks, taking a step farther up the panel to get a better look at you. He really was massive, his vest only emphasizing the sheer size of him. Now under the full weight of his gaze it was almost hard not to squirm the way that his singular focus zeroed in on you. You gave your name, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. “That sure is pretty, almost as pretty as you. Couldn’t pass up a chance to talk to you. Will you be around after the Broncos?”

You would in fact be around. The rodeo was a weekend long event and your work gave out free tickets so you planned on being back, but you didn’t know if you were ready to tell him all that yet. “Maybe, but I take it you will?”

“What do you think darlin? Yeah I’ll be here all week in fact.” Hannah is staring into the side of your head, her gaze boring a hole into your temple. You have the feeling she is wondering why you haven’t caved, and honestly under other circumstances you would have. “I get the feeling you don't like us cowboys darlin’...” 

“I don't have any problem with cowboys, I just don’t play with bull riders.”

Steve raises a brow, a chuckle rumbling his chest. Damn it, even his laughter sounded warm. “Well, lucky me I’m not a bull rider.”

~~~~

Turns out Steve is a roper. Team with a guy named Sam and they are good. Amazing. Steve never misses. By the end of his first 6 second run your mind is filled with sinful thoughts about how good he is with the rope. 

They slowly work their way up the bracket. Every run seemed a little more impressive as they immobilized their steers with an ease that seemed above the skill bracket of the teams around them. Sam and his mare just seem to fly across the arena, swooping in after Steve grabs the horns to easily rope the hind leg and pull the steer taunt. They win first without a shadow of a doubt.

 As Steve and Sam go to collect their buckles Steve eyes search the crowd. Blue eyes focused on finding someone in particular. 

They land on you, with a flash of perfect white teeth and a tip of the hat he reminds you not so subtly that he expects to see you at the bar after this. You don't know whether to throw your popcorn at him or melt into a puddle and slide under the bleachers. 

God damn it. You are so gonna ride that cowboy…