#cause Steve i love you but yikes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

certifiedtrashmouth · 2 years ago

Note

Nancy scheming to get you under the mistletoe!

okay i don't know how much i like this one. i kept going back and forth between loving it and hating it, but go figure. it's also longer (5k+ words yikes) but i combined with one of my other anon requests for a steddie mistletoe kiss! i received two of those, so there's still one coming that'll be just steddie. :-) anyways, enjoy <3

"who put that there?" (nancy wheeler x gn!reader)

warnings: none! this is gn!reader, with a side of steddie, and a mention of jewish dustin henderson because i very much stand by that headcanon (it's only mentioned in passing though). if anything, i'm going to put a warning for bad writing. sorry in advance if it isn't very good

Steve was surprisingly good at being sneaky. It had been quite a feat to learn the skill, considering he never needed it growing up as his parents were never around to give him a need to be cunning in the slightest, but it had started to come in handy with his friends.

Especially in moments like these.

Nancy hadn’t heard him arrive. Her mother had let him in and told him that she was down in the basement, finishing up last minute decorations for their holiday party that he had arrived early for. There was still an hour, give or take, until everyone else would probably begin arriving. Nearly two hours until the set time for the get-together to begin. So he’d descended the stairs into the basement with unintentional grace, his shoes left beside the door, and somehow managed to not make a single wooden step creak under the weight of his sock-clad feet.

The sight before him almost caused him to give himself away.

The decorations were gorgeous and well thought out, just as he had expected, but there was one noticeable detail to him immediately. It hit him when he caught sight of the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling at the top of the stairs and then another one at the bottom of the stairs. And then, he glanced around the room, and he realized there were more. A dozen mistletoes all hanging inconspicuously at random locations throughout the basement. One over the window where they’d have a clear, wistful view of the snow falling outside. One a few paces from the couch, in an area that was usually utilized for people to step aside and have private conversations during the hustle and bustle of these hang-outs. One hanging over the punch bowl that was set up on the long table Nancy had decorated with snacks and small table-top decorations. Every spot that had potential for two people to end up next to each other, alone, there was a mistletoe.

Nancy was currently on top of an unsteady stool, nearly leaning up on her tippy-toes as she stretched to be able to reach the ceiling above Mike’s table he used to utilize for D&D nights. They didn’t host them as often as they used to, so the table was currently home to several board games as well as a menorah with Dustin Henderson in mind. Nancy Wheeler was also inclusive to her younger brother’s friends, no matter how many times they’d gotten on her nerves over the years.

“Wheeler, what’s up with all the mistletoes? Are you trying to turn this into a different kind of party or something?” Steve finally announces himself once Nancy has safely pinned up her final sprig and has her feet planted back on the steady ground.

She still jumps and turns to Steve with wide eyes, like a young child caught stealing cookies, “God, Steve! Don’t scare me like that!”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Steve continues as he steps down from the final step he’d been hovering on while watching her, “Are you trying to play matchmaker tonight or something? Are you trying to kiss someone?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nancy defends herself with a red face and diverted eyes, hands reaching up to fuss with her hair out of instinct. It was her clear-tell sign of nerves; she’d fiddle with the ends of her curls, twisting them around her knuckles and tugging gently on each one, “I just hung up one of them by the door and this one here. That’s all.”

Steve fights the urge to roll his eyes, “Nance, I can see them. Everywhere.”

Nancy flushes further from being caught in her lie. She gives herself away when her eyes flick to a few of the mistletoes Steve had caught sight of this.

This was unusual. This wasn’t like Nancy. Usually, she had a strong poker face. She was always one of the strongest contenders for winning at game nights.

“Oh, is that what those are?” she squeaks, continuing to be uncharacteristically nervous, “I had no idea. I just thought they were cute.”

“You, Nancy Wheeler, are many things. Determined, brave, head-strong, and more - but you are not dumb. I know you aren’t dumb, and I know you knew they were mistletoes. So out with it, who are you trying to kiss?”

He watches her physically gear up as if she’s preparing another lie, but her shoulders slump before she even utters a word of it, accepting imminent defeat. She’s deflated, voice barely audible when she softly sighs out your name. She stiffens and expects Steve to react in some awful type of way, to either scold her or crush her dreams. It’s not that that’s Steve’s normal way of going about things; she just knew her silly crush was simply ridiculous. It’s why she’d never told any of her friends - they were sure to make fun of her for such an outlandish dream of you and her, her and you, together.

But the two of you just made sense to her. Through the haze of oddity and her self-indulgent skepticism, she felt like it really did make sense that she wanted you this way. You two had grown close over the last few months. Moments alone were filled with soft touches and aching laughter. Countless Friday nights filled with incessant sleepovers, endless Saturday mornings filled with breakfast with her family who adored you. Even Mike had warmed up to you, and vice versa, as the two of you had taken to arguing like siblings finally. You’d even learned how to handle Holly, how to keep the young girl entertained and cared for in order to give Mrs. Wheeler a break as she busied herself with making pancakes for the family. On the occasions you joined them for dinner, you’d even managed to get her to eat her vegetables without a fuss.

It was adorable, and endearing, and wonderful. The way you fit into her life so effortlessly. How could she not fall for you?

So it made sense to her. But she didn’t expect it to make sense to her friends, especially not Steve.

“I knew it!” he suddenly shouts, though, and Nancy is caught off guard.

“What?”

“I knew it,” he cheers happily, brightly smiling at Nancy’s revealed secret, “Oh, God. I can’t wait to shove it in Buckley’s face. She owes me five dollars and shift coverage. This is amazing.”

Nancy stands baffled, creases forming between her brows as she grapples both with his excitement and the pieces coming together for her. Her friends knew.

“You guys bet on this?”

“Sort of. We just knew you liked them. Was hard to miss when you’re usually so subtle, Nance.”

Steve had once been on the receiving end of Nancy Wheeler’s crushing tendencies. Those heart eyes, those longing glances and attempts at flirting that remained so subtle they couldn’t even be considered flirting. All of that still remained when it came to her and you, but there was something more.

After everything Nancy had gone through these recent years, it had been impossible to not melt for you. And Steve watched in awe at the puddle that had become of her.

“Who else knows?” Nancy demands, taking a few steps towards the boy.

So they knew. And it made sense to them, too?

“Bets were only between me and Robin. Mike overheard us and made a face, but the kid was awfully quiet whenever we’d talk about it-”

“You guys talked about us? What?” Nancy nearly shrieks, having to be mindful to keep her tone down so as to not startle her parents upstairs.

“Nancy Wheeler, certified badass who has threatened to shoot our kneecaps on multiple occasions, going impossibly soft for someone? It was hard to not talk about it. Sorry,” Steve shrugs and it’s clear his apology is insincere. He’s still looking giddy from righteousness, practically buzzing to collect on his bet with Robin. He nods towards a small box mostly empty, once having held the decorations now turning the basement into something magical, “Either way, you’ve got anymore of those things? Dustin was being a butthead about how I’ll never make the first move on Munson, and now I’m a man on a mission.”

Nancy nearly chokes on her spit, “Munson? You and Eddie?” Steve remains nonchalant, but he’s gone as cherry red as Nancy had at her own admittance, “I- yeah. I have like, two more in there.”

“Thank you,” he claps, immediately moving to grab the two bundles of superstition and shoving them into his pocket.

“You don��t seem nearly nervous enough about kissing Eddie,” Nancy murmurs, squinting her eyes accusingly at her ex-boyfriend before it clicks, “Oh my God. Robin bet on the two of you with Dustin.”

Steve just grins wickedly, pulling out a mistletoe, waving it tauntingly in the air, cheeks still crimson, “I get fifty percent cut if she wins. Sue me.”

Nancy pinches back her wide smile, shaking her head softly at Steve and Robin’s antics.

They both knew Steve wasn’t only kissing Eddie for a few bucks, but Nancy had bigger problems on her mind than his lovelife. Problems in the shape of you, the shape of your lips, and how she could possibly end up beneath one of her mistletoes with you.

—

Everyone arrives about an hour after Steve. He helped Nancy finish bringing down all the snacks for the night, plugging in the small Christmas tree in the corner and helping her figure out how to change the lights on it. They had been set on the white lights originally, Nancy’s preference, but she insisted they needed to be changed to multicolor. Steve knew why; Nancy hadn’t had a change of heart in her taste of holiday decorations, but you had mentioned last week how multi-colored lights are far more superior.

Everyone notices the mistletoes, and they avoid them like the plague. The kids all bitch and complain without restraint, complaining how it was stupid, even though Lucas did manage to snag a peck from Max from beneath the mistletoe at the bottom of the stairs. Mike stairs in annoyance due to his recent breakup with El, and Will looks on wistfully, as if he were watching a Hallmark movie play out before him. It all felt a bit dramatic.

But even more dramatic was Nancy’s sore disappointment when half way through the party, she hadn’t managed to catch you beneath a single mistletoe.

In fact, she felt like she’d hardly managed to speak to you most of the night. There was never a free seat beside you and you were always in a conversation with someone else. Nancy was convinced that the Universe was punishing her, mocking her for her ridiculous scheme to kiss you tonight.

Hot cocoa was made and gift exchanges began, secret Santa in effect to avoid everyone having to splurge an absurd amount of money. Nancy was beginning to regret not trying to swindle Steve, who had organized that bit of the party, into giving her your name. She knew that others had done it, Steve was a cheap shot; all it took was puppy dog eyes and enough annoying complaints and he would have caved. It was obvious that had happened between him and Will, considering the young boy was far too excited to watch Mike open his gift from his Santa.

Everyone had someone to be wrapped up in. Even during the opening of these gifts, any stranger in the room would immediately watch the way everyone seemed to have a person their eyes were glued to. Steve was staring at Eddie, Lucas was staring at Max, Will was staring at Mike, and Nancy was staring at you. Her stare was scathing, burning with obvious jealousy as she watched you share Sour Patch Kids with Eddie from his gift to you. He’d admitted it to you when you’d opened it, enjoying your genuine gift, but he immediately complained he deserved some of the sour snack as well for being such an excellent Santa. Yeah, Nancy Wheeler was thinking of about twenty different ways to get away with Eddie Munson’s murder as you stayed pressed into his side and the two of you passed the box and candy back and forth.

When the time came for Eddie to open his gift, it was a small box wrapped in familiar paper. Nancy recognized it as the paper she’d let Steve borrow before everyone had arrived, along with a small box, him using the excuse of ‘not having any at home’ on her.

“Wow,” Eddie drawls, shaking the small gift ever so slightly, “Santa went small this year.”

He was joking. His shining grin sold him out, but it still had Steve sweating at his side. You were on Eddie’s other side, candy abandoned as you swatted at him.

“Hey, be careful! What if it’s fragile?” you point out, glaring at him.

He grins, “Aw, shucks. Did we get each other this year, doll? I hope you went sweet rather than sour with the gift.”

Nancy definitely would have a warrant out for her arrest by the end of this night. Doll. Her jealousy burst into flames, nearly swallowing her whole, not noticing your platonic playfulness with the boy as you rolled your eyes.

“Not a chance, Munson. If I got you, I would have showed up empty handed. Gifted you with my presence or whatever your lame excuse was last year,” you snipe back to him and Nancy’s flames burn brighter, because she wants that with you. Everyone got along well with you, you were likable. She hated that she couldn’t claim that the bond she had with you was unique. She wishes you would only banter with her like that, not some airhead like Eddie.

Nancy Wheeler was a mean jealous. So she kept her mouth shut until Eddie opened his gift.

No one sees what it is at first, Eddie’s face twisted in shock and confusion. He’d ripped through the paper and tape with ease. The fact that he had stopped his chaotic unwrapping as he caught sight of what was in the box confused everyone.

“What is it?” Dustin chimes from the floor, trying to sit up onto his knees and look into the box. Eddie immediately presses the heel of his hand to the younger boy’s forehead and shoves him back before he can catch sight of the gift.

“Alright, who the hell gifted me a mistletoe?” Eddie finally asks, looking up with a serious gaze as he looks over each friend. He looks to you, another nail in the coffin that Nancy was building him, but you immediately shake your head ferociously with wide eyes.

And then he looks at Steve.

All the cool composure from his private discussion with Nancy was gone. He looked like he might vomit.

Nancy is watching him with nearly unmatched intensity, the only gaze more severe being Eddie’s. He finally breaks with a sheepish grin.

“Uh… that would be me,” Steve attempts to chuckle, but his voice cracks a little. Everyone has gone even more silent. The two boys stare at each other for a moment that remains just theirs, even in a full room.

Now Nancy’s watching on as if it’s a Hallmark movie, wearing the same hopeless expression Will had been earlier.

“Well, are you gonna kiss me or what, Harrington?” Eddie finds his confidence first, ripping a familiar mistletoe that Nancy recognizes as one that Steve had also taken from her, and hanging it in the air between them.

Steve has never burned a brighter red. He’s beginning to match some of the garland Nancy had put up around the window.

“I-” he’s speechless. Nancy forgets her jealousy for a moment, looking to you only to already find you staring her way, not even paying the two boys at your side any mind. A secret moment between the two of you, passing biting smirks and swallowed down giggles.

She rolls her eyes and mouths, ‘What a moron.’

Your eyes widen, but you simply shrug, mouthing back, ‘It’s cute.’

“Fine,” Eddie finally sighs, breaking Nancy’s private moment with you, “I guess I’ll have to just get my Christmas present myself. C’mere, big boy.”

Eddie leans forward, taking Steve’s face in his free hand, and plants a kiss onto his lips. Steve’s red up to the tips of his ears, but everyone can see the way he reciprocates without overthinking it.

“Get a room!”

“Gross!”

“Finally!”

Differing reactions call out from across the room, continuing until Eddie finally breaks away from the kiss. Steve is breathless, looking into Eddie’s eyes in disbelief.

Nancy snickers. He won’t be getting his cut from Robin’s bet. Eddie made the first move, technically, by initiating the actual kiss. She’s sure there will be an argument between Robin and Dustin regarding the entire ordeal.

“Merry Christmas,” Steve finally breathes out, a genuine smile crossing his features. He looks blissful. He looks like the entire world really was a Hallmark movie.

When he looks Nancy’s way, as if silently saying ‘see? Easy’, she’s burning with that familiar jealousy once more.

—

Nancy is the only person who doesn’t get a gift during the exchange. She doesn’t mind, keeping her mouth shut and simply enjoying the time with her friends. The more years she’d spent with the group, the more she’d come to realize the gifts didn’t matter that much. What mattered were the people she surrounded herself; the people who cared.

Steve had gone to the bathroom after his kiss fiasco with Eddie, and when the long-haired boy had tried to follow with a cheeky grin, Robin had threatened him seriously enough to make himself fall right back onto the couch and stay planted.

“If the two of you try to fuck at the Wheeler’s house for the first time, in the bathroom, I’ll join Nancy in shooting you dinguses.”

It was funny until Steve took an unusual amount of time to return. Eddie looked worried, you looked worried, Nancy looked worried. The three of you kept glancing at the door as Robin continued to argue with the boys for the sake of getting under their skin.

Steve returns down the stairs, taking them two at a time and with careless abandon. Each stomp echoes before he reaches the bottom of the stairs breathless, grinning mischievously. No one thinks much of it, figuring he was just running on the high of kissing Eddie. It’d been a long time coming, and his excitement was reasonable. So no one thought of it. No one except Nancy.

The first clue that something had happened in his alone time was the way he was nearly giggling to himself. The second was one he suddenly announced that everyone needed a hot cocoa refill after being back in the basement for not even five minutes.

“C’mon,” he begs when you retort how he had just been upstairs and should’ve gotten some then, “Nancy can help you! Can’t you, Nance?”

The third clue was the way he wasn’t allowing either of you to say no.

So you gathered up the empty mugs of the room with Nancy, and she worried endlessly that you felt pressured to do it. She wanted alone time with you, she always wanted moments with you one on one, but she didn’t want you to be forced to do it.

“I can get it, don’t worry,” she finally assures you with an armful of mugs.

You just smile, taking several from her to lighten the load, “I don’t mind helping.”

The two of you take the stairs delicately, Nancy forcing herself to pace the space between the two of you to avoid being caught under the mistletoes at the same time. Steve notices, and his smirk widens.

He refused to be the only one who got his mistletoe kiss this year. Nancy should have known better.

The two of you are quick in the kitchen, moving around to warm the milk and measure out the cocoa powder for everyone. Nancy specifically makes sure to grab the oatmilk for Dustin, reaching for it just as you do. When her fingertips brush over your knuckles, she jumps back as if shocked.

“Sorry!” you blurt out, looking over at her like a deer caught in headlights, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she tries to laugh it off, hand still tingling from the contact. It had started to be that way more and more lately. Every lingering touch was lightning, scaring her beneath the surface with unbelievable yearning.

It doesn't make sense. This isn’t a Hallmark movie.

While she’s busy losing herself in her own thoughts, she doesn’t notice you also being swept away in your own mind.

Because for everything Nancy felt, you felt just as strongly, if not ten times more.

You’d always admired Nancy around school, envied those who caught her attention so easily. Because she was pretty. She was pretty, and she was fierce, and she was the reason for so many pathetically sleepless nights spent in your bed, tossing and turning while ocean blue eyes haunted you.

You liked Nancy Wheeler back. It was why you had begged and bartered with Steve Harrington in order to get her for Secret Santa.

And yet here you were, still chickening out. Steve had reprimanded you countless times, trying to convince you that she wouldn’t reject you, but all his words fell on deaf ears. No, girls like Nancy don’t like people like you. It felt too impossible. So your gift to her had remained in your bag upstairs by the front door, neatly wrapped and burning a hole through the tote material.

But you had seen Nancy’s face when she hadn’t received a gift, and it broke your heart. You couldn’t let her feel so left out.

“I have something for you,” you finally sigh. You were going to regret this, and if it ended badly, Steve would have Hell to pay for meddling where he had no business, “I… I was your Secret Santa. I have a gift for you.”

“Oh?” Nancy visibly perks up, still holding a warm mug.

“Yeah,” you laugh breathlessly, nodding and trying to hype yourself up, “It’s just in my bag.”

You awkwardly shoved your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the front door. Nancy nods in tandem with you, looking thoughtful, and you don’t even have to ask her to follow you as you begin to walk out of the kitchen.

But then fear strikes. Terrible, gut-wrenching fear that stops you dead in your tracks. And Nancy fumbles, running right into your back. The two of you are stopped in the middle of the kitchen entryway, in clear view of the stairway that leads to the basement.

The stairway that Steve, Eddie, and Robin had crept up after the two of you came up here alone.

“Sorry!” Nancy is the one apologizing now, reaching out to gently place her hands on your elbows after the collision. You’re looking up above the two of you, and she thinks you might be about to scold her. For what, she isn’t sure. Maybe for not watching where she was going, or maybe for all the lovestruck looks she’d sent your way this night. Maybe you had figured her out, and this was it.

“Oh, who put that up there?” you ask and Nancy finally realizes your staring at the ceiling wasn’t from contempt. Something had caught your attention.

She follows your gaze upwards and catches sight of a small bundle of leaves, bright red berries sparkling in the kitchen light.

Fucking Steve Harrington.

“Oh,” Nancy says, before looking back at you. You’re already watching her carefully. There’s a look there unfamiliar to her, but you’ve looked at her this way a million times when she wasn’t watching. Shining, adoring eyes, wide with the possibility of it all. Both of you remember Steve and Eddie’s kiss, the reminder of the holiday tradition. A reminder of Nancy’s scheming. “Oh.”

Were you two going to kiss? Had Nancy Wheeler’s plan worked? Technically, it was no longer Nancy’s - it was clearly Steve’s by hijacking. Nancy hadn’t hung that mistletoe.

“We don’t have to-” Nancy begins.

“I think it means we have to-” your voice overlaps as you shyly smile.

Both of you cut off once you realize you’re talking over one another.

“Sorry,” Nancy laughs nervously, “Go ahead. What were you going to say?”

“No, no. You first,” you insist.

She swallows hard. What she was about to say was to preserve your comfort, even if it ruined everything for her.

“We don’t have to kiss,” she whispers, noticing the way your gaze falls slightly.

“We don’t,” you agree solemnly. But then something sparks in your expression, and that smile that makes her stomach curl is back, “But it is tradition. Can’t mess with tradition, right?”

Oh God. You wanted to kiss her too. You wanted this.

You don’t let her overthink it. You’d seen that look on her face before.

You press your lips to hers in a peck, feeling the heat of both your blushes radiating before you pull back quickly. Too quickly for Nancy’s liking.

Both of you stand there for a moment, eyelashes fluttering against the tops of pink cheeks, unaware that all your friends are currently watching and silently cheering.

You don’t get another word in before Nancy is leaning forward again, kissing you with more confidence this time. Her palms come up and hover over your face, hesitating in touching you, but they quickly connect and cradle when you return the kiss with just as much enthusiasm.

The kiss breaks when you start to smile so widely, Nancy finds her teeth clashing with yours. You begin to break down in giggles and she pulls back, letting her hands fall from your face until it’s just her fingertips ghosting over your jaw.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, smiling curiously in return, eyes searching your face for the answer.

“Nothing, I just-” you cut yourself off, putting up a finger and walking away from her momentarily. When you return, you’re carrying a small box, beautifully wrapped with golden paper and a white translucent bow that reminds Nancy of snow, “This is your gift. And I need to preface it by saying that I like you, Nancy Wheeler. I like you a lot, and I swear that this wasn’t some plot between me and Steve. Honestly, he’s on my hitlist. I can’t- I can’t believe that jerk stole my idea-”

As you continue to ramble on, Nancy is carefully unraveling your gift to her.

Inside the box, she’s met by a few presents.

Two matching handmade bracelets sit on top of the cushion of paper bundled inside to keep all the gifts safe. One is woven in shades of blue thread that matches Nancy’s eyes, her initials on small beds in the center, while the second one is woven in threads that match your eyes, your initials engraved on the small white beads.

“I-” Nancy is smiling widely, mouth agape in happiness as she gingerly picks up the bracelet with your colors and initials, “I love it. So much.”

The genuine happiness comes off of her in waves. But you still look terrified, and possibly annoyed, as you nod, “There’s more.”

You reach in and grab the other bracelet, and it exposes a small branch at the bottom of the box.

“Like I said, Steve is dead to me. He’s lucky I made the bracelets, or else-”

Nancy is in shock, her cheeks beginning to ache from her child-like smile. Her heart races in the best way before carefully plucking the mistletoe from the box and lifting in up between her face and yours.

A small laugh escapes her, “Oh my God.”

“Steve!” a sudden high-pitched voice gasps, making the two of you turn to catch all of your friends now gathered in the doorway to the stairway. Eddie is the source of the gasp, looking highly offended at an embarrassed Steve, “You stole their thunder?”

“I did not-”

“I can’t believe you.”

“I didn’t steal anything!”

“You absolutely steamrolled their moment. That’s just cruel, big boy.”

“Who’s steamrolling it now?” Steve finally snaps before he faces the two of you, “Sorry. We, uh… we’re just…”

“Really fucking nosey,” you supply, not a hint of questioning or genuine acidity to your tone. You and Nancy both actually look impossibly amused.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, before earning a smack on his shoulder from Robin as he says, “Really, really fuckin’ nosey.”

Nancy doesn’t even care. Not as she hears arguments over the bet that was made, or the kids complaining for a second time that night. All she can care about is you and that look on your face as the kitchen light makes your eyes sparkle just right. All she cares about is that feeling in her chest, realizing Steve had been right in his silent reassurance.

That was easy.

She’d have to find another way to repay him another day, because right now, all she wants to do is kiss you some more.

So she does just that. She holds up the mistletoe over your heads, still smiling so wide her eyes completely crinkle in the corners and her nose scrunches a bit, before saying, “Can I have my Christmas gift now?”

You nod softly. There’s some shouting from your friends, but this moment in this room is only for you two. “Yeah. Yeah, you can.”

The kiss that follows nearly gives you both cavities from its sweetness. But Nancy’s convinced that that’s just how kisses are supposed to be - growing to be more sugary and syrupy with each passing one. Or at least, with you that’s how they’re supposed to be.

“I think I, for one, have seen enough mistletoes tonight to last me a lifetime,” Dustin groans dramatically from somewhere behind Steve and Eddie, “Hey, by the way Robin - you owe me ten bucks.”

“And you owe me five,” Steve adds on, a proud grin as he continues to watch his friends.

He can taste the sweetness in the air, even from across the room.

#thank u ily #asks #twenty four hours of christmas #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler fluff #steddie #my writing

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dangertoozmanykids101 · 11 months ago

Text

TOOZ WRITING PROMPT

Hey y'all! I have got a great fun prompt for you today! You won't believe what I found! Now although the inspiration involves a video of a super young Chris Evans, any muse can be the star or participate. ALWAYS! Because this is just a prompt - you're the writer in control. And I'm dying to find out what y'all come up with. So guess what—

TOOZ FOUND A TREASURE !

How the hell are there still things out there I haven't discovered yet? Am I the only one who didn't know anything about this?

Baby Chris Evans is teaching us about Biodiversity: Wild About Life.

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He's just a baby! So young. What a little cutie!

Now for...TOOZ WRITING PROMPT

One or more of our collective muses has been asked to make a documentary or Public Service Announcement (PSA) to raise the public's awareness about something specific, something important, something ridiculous, something imminent, dangerous, horrifying, apocalyptic, something that turns out to be catastrophic, something that fizzles out, something that is a hoax or conspiracy, something that is manipulative or oppressive.

Did I mention something ridiculous?

We SHOULD each challenge ourselves to write a serious one AND a ridiculous one - a ridiculous cause that is taken seriously, of course. You know, a crack fic: a story that the author must've been on crack to come up with such a wack-a-doodle idea.

Disclaimer: I AM NOT SUGGESTING NOR CONDONING THAT WE ALL SMOKE CRACK IN ORDER TO WRITE A CRACK FIC! It's just a figure of speech. Come on, right?

Ohh but imagine if our muse fucks up the PSA or documentary up so badly that they have to go back on the air and recant parts of it, if not the entire thing.

This could be the most important thing they've ever done or said. The most important fight they ever signed up for. Their message may successfully change the world, or save it.

Or maybe their message was completely wrong - the wrong information, the wrong choice, the wrong course of action. (Is it too late to save the world, or stop the broadcast?)

This could be absolutely humiliating. It could ruin their reputation and any future career. And say goodbye to any chance of a proper private life after this. Will the public even notice or care?

The Captain America PSAs always send me into giggles. I've included several video links. I'm dying to find out what y'all think? If any of you have more ideas. SQUEAL!

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Of course, it's adorable when Sam & Bucky argue about Steve's PSAs.

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And I couldn't help adding a couple more.

youtube

These aren't all necessarily PSAs, but just inspiration. Especially seeing our muses with kids makes me swoon.

youtube

I ran out of room for videos.

If anyone has more inspirational videos, please share!

This post got accidentally posted almost two weeks ago before I had actually finished it. Yikes! I wonder how often I did that?

@nildespirandum @ladyoftheteaandblood @caffiend-queen @redfoxwritesstuff @nonsensicalobsessions @talklokitome @latent-thoughts @alexakeyloveloki @devikafernando @deceitfuldevout @so-easy-to-love-me @wolfsmom1 @gigglingtiggerv2 @americasass81 @acidcasualties @muddyorbs @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @spectre-posts

#Youtube #toozmanykids #tooz writing prompts #tooz prompt

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imaginespazzi · 5 months ago

Note

Greetings from an airport lol. It was a good day indeed, hoping for more of the same today 🇺🇸 Howd I forget Stevie? Dude is remarkable and what a gem. Oh and also wanted to voice some support re your post on Imane Khelif. Admire you speaking on it, and all very well said.

You know, I actually dont have a clue on her current whereabouts either. Last I know was Miami, like a week ago. Yikes, this makes me sound like a terrible spouse😅. Who doesnt like a little mystery/intrigue though? Lol. But really heres just hoping that at the very least I dont face another insane layover.

Yeah the UK WBB unfollow seems rather random in timing. Though now that I think about it, I am now wondering how closely it occurred with three wedding/run in. 👀 The level of drama within a VT WBB tell all from the recent era would be outta this world! (Go ahead publishers ha)

Given your consistent support of me hating/loving whatever, I'll accept your definition of a dignified squeal.

Take care bestie -☕️

Babes I'm so late answering this so I hope you're out of the airport now lol!

You got your wish fr fr. USA on top (only a couple more days of patriotism lmao). I LOVE STEVE. STEVE FOR PRESIDENT. And I love seem Imame Khelif thrive like fuck that haters, she's going for gold!!

LMAO listen after years of marriage you and your wife need a little spice and mystery methinks.

Can't even be normal about the VT drama now cause the UConn drama (honestly that's not even the correct word) is something insane right now like #freewcbbfromproblematicpeopleplease

#ask #☕️ anon my love <3 #someone do something actually fun pleeeeese i'm tired of the annoying drama

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mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea · 10 months ago

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For the A-Z ask game: I, M, N

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

Well, I could say that Tumblr made me hate Supernatural, but to be honest, Supernatural (the writers and most of the actors) made me hate it. I'm trying to think of other fandoms I might have liked until Tumblr changed my mind. I know that there are fandoms I never had anything to do with and Tumblr made me never want to have anything to with them - Homestuck, ummm - Nightvale, probably a lot of others. I have a really extensive filter list on here of stuff I don't need to see endless posts of on my dash.

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

Yikes. Just one? Tony Stark, definitely. Loki, obviously. Bruce Banner. Emma Frost, DEFINITELY. Bucky Barnes, Bobby Drake, Kurt Wagner, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton. Outside of Marvel, Rimble (from Zohra Greenhalgh's novels), Barlimo (same), Mercy Thompson (Patricia Briggs' novels), Colin Shea (What's Your Number), Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington (Stranger Things) - so many others, but I'll stop there.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

More love for Tony Stark (or at the least, less hate - or at least, people tagging their hate in a way that I could filter it out).

A lot more domestic, fluff, and heavy comfort fics.

Less (to no) fucking hate for m/f ships, ffs. Please.

A-Z Ask Game

#A-Z Asks #chaoticgardenbread #Thanks for the asks!

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spicysix · 1 year ago

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Fanfic Tag Game

tagged by @hbyrde36 and @steventhusiast for a fun lil game! thanks babes ♡

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

25!! thats a lot

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

102,337 which is also. INSAANE

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently only Stranger Things!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

crush crush crush (steddie X gn!reader)

fuck-marry-kill (steve X fem!reader)

it feels like i'm going home (eddie X gn!reader)

love sneaks in with the smell of you (eddie X afab!reader)

Countdown To Christmas (drabble collection, multiple ships)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

absolutely, yeah! all of them, even if a little late

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

no doubt me and you (we can't lose). canon compliant eddie X fem!reader. we all know what happens in canon...... yikes (i was challenging myself to see if i could do it. i did it. i cried)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

all the rest of them basically LKDLSKDAOKS no but fr i think going home still has my favorite ending, simply because i put so much into that fic and that was the ending i had planned since the beginning and its one of my favorite eddie headcanons so. im really happy about that one

8. Do you get hate on fics?

never happened thankfully

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i dont, not usually. theres 1 (one) smut scene in going home cause, again, i was challenging myself, but it's not my thing

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not my cup of tea, tbh. don't read them a lot too

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope but it would be an honor!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, not once in my +10y as a fic writer, in any of the fandoms i've explored. i'm definetely open to the idea! just don't know how it would work lmao but it can be a very fun experience im sure

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

i have so many sakdjsjdoa i'll say, currently, in this fandom, Steddie is no doubt my otp. but i do love every other ship too, just the teeeeeeniest little bit less

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i have this sinclair!reader X steddie fic that i really really wanted to write but i'm not sure i ever will. its not a wip per se because i never started writing it but. yeah that one

16. What are your writing strengths?

im not sure??? i think poetic repetitions if i can call them that, and maybe dialogue

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

descriptions no doubbbbttt. hate describing stuff

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i think its nice and can be a fun little thing if not overused

19. First fandom you wrote for?

McFly lmao

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

THATS TOO HARD DONT ASK ME THAT probably going home, it's my baby. but i really love crush crush crush, now i don't hate California after all and i'll be with you, when the roses bloom again too

THIS WAS FUN!!!!

no pressure tags: @imfinereallyy @userbats @roykentt @inourtownofhawkins @shares-a-vest @stobinesque @inairbinad @starryeyedjanai

#lui rambles #tagged ♡

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mysteriouspenguin29 · 2 years ago

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Alex and Deccan

i often say Alex and Deccan has Steve and buck dynamic to them let me explain i was saying they are ride or die people who really do care for each other despite their difference. i don’t ship Steve and Bucky watching the movies i never saw them as anything but devoted friends but hey that just me. take these two as whatever but can i go on about how people treat Sam? who i ship Bucky with

dear god is awful sometime some people just say awful thing about Sam and their relationship that he Steve replacement which gross. that he Bucky second choose which also gross, that how Bucky loved Steve so much but I guess SAM will do ew. how in the show Sam is just mean to Bucky for no reason which no it Bucky who being the dick he have this hissy fit that Sam gave the shield away cause Sam really didn’t think he was worth such a honor or i think he wasn’t ready something like that. how Bucky goes on how Steve gave Sam the shield for a reason Bucky sweetie did you forget you best bubble Steve left you to go in the past to be with his fling.

i heard of endgame ending how steve character was ruined how bucky should gone with him blah blah, it just feel people are quietly whispering Sam hate.

there also on oh Steve should gave the shield to Bucky not Sam which yikes on that feel kind of racist to say that.

dear god some stucky fan can be god awful to anyone who dare come between there two white hot men.

no i didn’t watch end game there so much marvel movies coming out it make my head just fucking spin Like people find out spider man identity out cause this man told them his name which guy i think you being clever but the people in new York city who probably have the same name. i don’t think he showed spider man you know real face just said his name. dear god spider man is really never allowed to be happy is he?

but this isn’t about that i heard over and over about the ending of endgame people didn’t shut up about it, even a youtuber comment to think Steve would leave Bucky to go to past to be with the women he loved..is just i think bucky choose to not to go in the past, cause he was finally happy for once he had new friends, new people he can met, learn stuff like that. to him go in the past with Steve is just throwing all the friends Bucky makes including Sam is just...

maybe he’ll get arm back but really i don’t know how that will work honestly.

sorry getting off track again i like steve and bucky friendship i really did, i didn’t see as them as a couple which is fine if you saw them as that. it has been a while since i see the movies so who know maybe there something i missed.

just stop treat the character sam or captain America as crap please he honestly so underrated some people who stucky forgot sam even fucking exist . or treat sam and bucky relationship as them being really cruel to each other which i guess what the kiddo say is romantic

also also people, youtuber, whoever said oh the whole winter solider and the falcon is queerbait to just be okay with Steve and Bucky so called romance when it was never said like jesus you okay with that type of queerbait?

some people excuse just to hate on Sam character is awful

this was about Steve and Bucky friendship not how people treat Sam like dirt

also really like Steve and Sam friendship it so cute at time from what i remember

from what i remember and again i could be wrong Sam and Steve adore each other i mean sam help him find Bucky cause he know what Bucky mean to him

honestly their friendship and relationship is just so underrated

here a picture of them were the old outfit not the new ones

#ocs #steve roger #bucky barnes #their friendship is underrated #their friendship means everything to me #male friendship #ranting

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erin-bo-berin · 2 years ago

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can i request a smut? Steve×bestfriendReader in which the reader and Steve were having a best friends night and doing normal things they are used to but they end up getting in a subject about dates they've been on and who was their best×worst sex because Steve was curious about? and the reader sort of admits that she never really had a really pleasurable night with someone because no one ever knew how to satisfy her (sorry if something doesn't make sense lol english is not my first language

That made perfect sense don’t worry! I love that trope honestly cause Steve would definitely be like “oh I know how to make it good for her” type of guy. Whew 🥵

The Golden Rule

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Smut

“How can you hate E.T.?!”

“I don’t hate the movie, I hate the little guy!”

“Y/N,” Steve said flatly, “E.T. is the little guy’s name.”

“Well whatever, you know what I meant.”

“He’s adorable! How can you hate him?!”

You tossed a pillow at him, which he caught.

“It’s like looking at a naked grandma it’s weird! It’s even worse when they dress him like a girl. It’s like I’m waiting for them to drop him off at a retirement home. He’d fit right in, in that outfit.”

Steve sighed dramatically.

“It all makes sense now.”

“What does?” you asked.

“Why you’re single,” he said, shaking his head with mock seriousness, “You have horrible taste when it comes to movie characters.”

“You’re horrible,” you laughed.

“I’m right,” he grinned.

You and Steve had a a weekly movie night together every Saturday night, it was something you had been doing for years—maybe even as long as you’d been friends. You typically alternated picks every week. This week, it was Steve’s turn to choose the movie and he’d provided E.T. this week. You were up for watching it, you had agreed, when you first arrived at his place two hours ago.

“I can’t be worse than this one guy I went on a date with once. He hated The Breakfast Club because he thought Molly Ringwald wasn’t great.”

Steve snickered, knowing that that movie was one of your favorites, along with Molly Ringwald.

“On your behalf, I’m very glad that relationship didn’t work out.”

“You and me both,” you muttered.

“I actually had a date fall asleep on me during a movie once,” Steve said.

“Isn’t that the shit you love?” you snorted, “Then you get to put your arm around them and cuddle them,” you rolled your eyes.

“No, I mean literally head back against the seat, drooling, out like a light the entire movie, asleep,” he grimaced.

“Oh yikes,” you stifled a laugh, “That’s very…encouraging.”

“Technically she had a good excuse as she’d been preparing for exams the entire night before, but still…not much chemistry there,” he chuckled.

“I’ll say,” you smiled.

“Okay, you told me about your worst date. What about worst sex?”

You arched a brow. It wasn’t like anything was taboo between you and Steve. You were best friends after all, his curiosity after all was, well, curious.

“Oh no, King Steve,” you teased, using his old nickname from high school, “I want to hear your worst story first. I hope the girl didn’t fall asleep during the deed.”

You were well aware he wasn’t the same bully and jerk he had been in high school, for quite some time. But you couldn’t help but tease him for his known reputation with the ladies. He’d definitely slept around enough to have at least one good story.

“Well it’s more embarrassing than anything, I guess,” he shrugged.

“Oh don’t tell me, they hurt your poor, fragile ego by telling you that it wasn’t good sex?” you pouted, purposely messing with him.

“Are you going to hush and let me finish?” he asked, giving you a pointed look.

“Fine, fine.”

“So there I am, really going at it. Like we’re in the final act and I’m just thinking “okay this is going great”, then she stops me all of a sudden tells me she’s just not into it anymore, gets up and gets dressed and just leaves. It was incredibly awkward.”

“You do realize that’s basically just a bruised ego story, right?” you scoffed.

“Well it was definitely the worst sex I had! It was weird!”

“I’ll give you that. That really is weird,” you nodded.

“Okay, your turn. What’s your worst sex story?”

You pulled your legs towards your chest, wrapping your arms around them, suddenly feeling real self conscious.

Sensing your wariness, he moved his foot, nudging your own with his, from where he was sitting on the other side of the couch.

“Oh, come on, I told you mine,” he said, encouragingly.

You sighed heavily.

“All of them I guess?”

If it wasn’t such a depressing statement, you would’ve laughed at his comical reaction. He blinked at you dumbly, as if his brain wasn’t able to process your words.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged.

You didn’t have a great track record with it, after all. Half the guys you’d been with was just there for their own selfish pleasure, leaving you wishing you’d never started the moment with them. The other half was probably just terrible in bed, making you lose confidence in the act all together. You didn’t really see the point of it anyway because surely people were over exaggerating how amazing it was.

“Oh god, you’re serious,” Steve gaped at you.

You squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“Why are you staring at me like that? It’s weird,” you mumbled.

“Sex is amazing. I mean obviously it shouldn’t be the only part of a relationship, but its fun and can be incredibly hot, too.”

“Spoken like a true male,” you rolled your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Now, Steve just looked confused. A bit intrigued, but confused.

“Most of the guys I’ve been with got it in, did what they needed to and were gone practically before I even felt anything,” you winced, “A few others were probably just bad in bed. The amount of orgasms I’ve faked should win an award.”

“So you’re telling me, no one you’ve been with has taken the time to focus on you?”

If he didn’t close his mouth soon, flies would be flying in his gaping jaw.

You felt your face heat with embarrassment. Not at the topic being discussed, but the shame you felt at apparently not being good enough to deserve this so called amazing sex he spoke of.

“Sounds like they need to follow my golden rule,” he commented.

“Your golden rule?”

“Yes,” he nodded, matter of factly, “You know how the original goes; “treat others the way you want to be treated”. My version is “give like you want to receive”. If I expect a blow job or whatever the fuck else, I make sure to give the girl special attention as well. It’s only fair and the girl deserves pleasure as well. Of course, I don’t do it solely because I want it in return, I do it because I enjoy it.”

It didn’t surprise you too much as you’d heard the stories in high school about your best friend. He was known to be great in bed and apparently if that was his secret, it was no wonder he was so highly praised.

“They must’ve missed that class of yours,” you grumbled.

It was a common denominator that the guys you’d been with had wanted to receive, but you’d never been given much in return, unfortunately.

His gaze was intent on yours when you looked back to him. He was all seriousness now, all teasing manner gone from his face.

“So you’re saying you’ve not walked away from one of your sexual encounters, satisfied?”

“Pretty much,” you said.

“Shit, those guys are complete idiots.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged again, looking away from him, more humiliated than anything.

Of course Steve had probably had some amazing sex in his life. If the stories about how great he was in bed were true, then you were sure he meant what he’d said earlier about how great the act was.

You felt the middle couch cushion that both of your feet had been resting on top of moments ago, shift with his weight as he moved closer to you. He was now sitting closer to you than he had been earlier, from the opposite side of the couch.

“What if I showed you?” he whispered.

“What?”

His hands wrapped around your ankles, pulling your legs straight out once again, eyes trailing up your body with such concentration it made your insides quiver.

“What if I proved it to you?” he licked his lips subconsciously, eyes landing on your face once again.

He was now moving to hover over where you were sitting, back against one arm of the couch. He was like a panther, slowly approaching his prey and you’d frozen in place, anticipating being caught.

“What if I proved just how amazing sex could be?” he whispered, gaze boring into yours, hand sliding deliciously up your thigh.

The word “sex” sounded so much more intense, much more intimate than it had earlier. Possibly because your best friend, your attractive best friend that you’d had deep, secret, wouldn’t-dare-tell-him feelings that had developed and grew over the years.

Then his lips were softly pressed against yours and you almost instantly you melted into him, lips moving effortlessly without a thought. His hand cupped your face as the other slid around your side toward your back, pulling your body closer to his.

Only when the kiss had picked up in speed and heat did you realize you were practically making out with Steve. His breath was heavy in your face, his lips moving quickly with your own as if he couldn’t kiss you enough. Your hands roamed his chest, went into his hair, your body naturally pressing into his as much as you physically could.

Just as his hands pushed your shirt up your stomach, touch sliding over the bare skin was the moment your brain decided to catch up.

“Steve,” you breathed, breaking away from the kiss, pushing him back slightly, “I don’t want you to do this because you feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t,” he said, fingers still on your bare stomach, hands gliding back to hold your sides, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”

His eyes flicked back to yours, his meaning clear in them and your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t the only one that had caught feelings, then.

“You and me both,” you chuckled, disbelievingly.

“Good,” his lips attached your jaw, “Because I want to show you just what you’ve been missing.”

His hands traveled down, pulling off the lounge shorts you’d thrown on before coming over to his house. They were old and faded, but you knew Steve had never cared what you wore. Although now you briefly wished you’d had the forethought to have something cute on underneath.

Although that thought dissipated as quickly as it popped into your mind when his entire hand pressed against your core through the thin layer of fabric still covering your lower half. You gasped sharply into the kiss, Steve chuckling at your reaction.

You weren’t used to be doting on, the attention entirely on your pleasure, so every tiny touch and brush of his fingers had you reacting, much to Steve’s pleasure.

He kept kissing you, although now his mouth moved against yours languidly as he pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side, fingertips tracing the outline of your lower lips as if memorizing your very anatomy.

He had to have achieved some sort of record as you were already so incredibly slick with arousal, Steve having caused that in record time. Then again, he was pretty talented like that.

He groaned against your lips, fingers gliding through your arousal, like he too couldn’t believe he’d garnered such a reaction from you. You were throbbing and so turned on, you were ready for anything he gave you.

Fingertips gently brushed your clit, rubbing it in circles. He’d pulled back to watch your reaction. He wanted to see your face when you realized just how incredible the sensation could be. He was not disappointed.

Your head fell back against the arm of the chair, clearly enjoying his touch. He smiled warmly also feeling a tad bit of regret. Not at what you two were doing, just that he hadn’t done it sooner. You were so touch starved, such pleasure starved that you were already so pleased just at the lightest touch from him. He was intent on giving you something real to moan about, not something you felt you had to fake your way through.

He gently pushed one finger into you and your quiet moan was music to his ears. He may have had a proud smirk on his face, but he couldn’t help it. This was only the opening act and he planned to make it worth your while.

He pumped the lone finger in and out of you slowly, free hand gliding up your torso to massage one of your boobs, still covered under your shirt, tweaking the nipple with his fingers. All he wanted to do was strip you naked and worship your body, mainly for his own selfish pleasure, but that could wait for another time. What couldn’t wait was him giving you a mind shattering orgasm—or maybe two.

“Steve,” you gasped, hips raising to meet his hand, head lifting to look at him.

Your hand slid along the back of his neck, trying to pull his mouth back to yours.

“Feel good?” he mumbled, against your lips.

With no warning, he added a second, groaning at how tight you felt around his fingers alone. He assumed you had no complaints when you answered his actions with a small moan.

“Fuck, yes,” you breathed, eyes already closed.

His fingers worked you, thrusting deep as he kissed you. You could hardly keep your moans to yourself at this point. The bulge in his pants that was occasionally brushing against your bare thigh made you aware that you were affecting him just as he was you.

You gripped his bicep, fingers tightening around his arm as his thumb rubbed your clit, the tantalizing mix sending you into a fury of pleasure. Your hips ground against his hand as you kissed him, having to break away, your breathing already shallow enough.

You were almost embarrassed at how eager you sounded, how your body was reacting with no shame, like you were a virgin and this was your first time all over again. In a way, it kind of was. It was your first, true time even nearing the ballpark of an orgasm from a man’s hand alone.

You whimpered, Steve’s touch just amazing enough that you couldn’t imagine wanting anyone or anything else. Why the fuck were sex toys invented when Steve Harrington existed because holy fuck, your best friend was good at this.

He sensed your hesitancy, even though your reaction to him was starting to win over your mind.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he whispered, pausing long enough to give you a short, staccato kiss, before continuing, “I’ve got you.”

His hand worked mercilessly as you writhed beneath him throughout your kissing. He knew you were close and didn’t even attempt to let up his motions until the clutches of your orgasm claimed you.

It hit as hard as the smack of a baseball bat against a ball. It was that loud, in a sense. The coil of tightening in your core and abdomen snapping and spreading outwards at a rapid pace, sending your senses into orbit.

“Steve!” you gasped loudly, an appreciative moan following his name.

“Just wait until next time; I can show you what I can do with my mouth,” he whispered, as you came down from your high, removing his hand from you and stroking the top of your thigh.

Next time? His mouth? Have mercy.

Your expression must’ve been questioning, as he peeled off your underwear.

“I told you, I’ve waited too long to do this for it to be a one time thing,” he smiled softly.

“Good, I’m glad,” you muttered.

“I am too,” he chuckled, kissing you, your hands pushing his pants off his hips.

You hated to part, his kisses just as amazing as he proved his fingers to be, but you knew you had to ask, if you wanted this to continue.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, hoping he did.

He nodded, sitting up and reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out the square packet.

“Did you expect this to happen?” you laughed, a bit amazed.

“No, but, I always come prepared,” he teased.

“You’re something else, Steve,” you rolled your eyes with a grin.

“I think I just proved that once,” he said with a lifted eyebrow, “And I’m gonna prove it a second time.”

He tore open the package with his teeth and you swore you developed a new kink. Who knew that such a simple act was so sexy?

“What?” he chuckled.

“That was fucking sexy,” you gaped.

He rolled the condom on, reaching for you again, pulling you up and into his lap as he sat upright.

“Glad you think so because I think you’re fucking sexy,” he growled the words, voiced laced with desire.

Your body natural positioned itself as your mouths met in the intricate dance you’d both created specific to the two of you. You lowered yourself onto him, the entrance an effortless task, even as he stretched you beyond to what you’d been used to.

“Holy fuck, you’re tight,” he breathed, amazed.

“It’s been a while,” you grunted, staying still as you got used to the foreign feeling of him, “You’re also bigger than I’m used to.”

“Why Y/N,” you flatter me, he teased, hands gliding up your back.

You hit his chest lightly, moving your hips slowly, tearing out what worked best.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled, watching you in a trance.

“So much talk, so little actions,” you grinned, your words breaking off into a moan as his hips met yours in a sharp thrust up into you.

“Fuck me,” you groaned, using it as an expletive comment instead of an actual command.

“I’m trying,” he smirked.

“Shut it, Steve,” you chuckled, hands resting on his chest as you moved on him, body rocking in a perfect rhythm as you bounced.

You had no problems admitting that the rumors were true, that was actually really incredible.

His arms wrapped tightly around you, kissing across your shoulder and collarbone, thrusts quickly picking up speed, setting a rhythm to please both of you.

If someone would’ve told you yesterday—hell, even hours ago—that you would be in your best friend’s lap, riding him, you would’ve laughed in their faces.

You weren’t laughing now.

In fact, you couldn’t quite form words anymore.

“Steve, shit, yes, oh god,” was about all you could rotate between moans and pants, whimpers and whines.

“I agree,” he groaned, a slight chuckle in his voice.

His hands gripped your ass, manipulating your body to move faster and harder against his thrusts. A guttural moan escaped your throat when he hit a partially deep spot, rubbing against your cervix.

Frankly, you had no idea there were guys who knew of said, deep, hidden treasure and boy, it truly was nothing short of ecstasy when hit. Also, the one brain cell that was still functioning in your fuzzy mind wondered how he had brought you back to a nearing orgasm so quickly.

You squeezed around him tightly, his answering groans enough for you to do it again, this time on purpose.

“You keep doing that and I’m going to go fucking crazy,” he gritted, panting.

You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that you were his undoing, that you truly were driving him crazy as your hands gripped his arms. There was no way you were faking an orgasm during intercourse this time.

The matching sounds of your breathing and moaning mixed with the noise coming from your meeting bodies. Your lips attached to his jaw, sucking harshly as you bounced yourself closer to your end.

“Betcha not gonna fake an orgasm this time, are you sweetheart?” Steve uttered and you moaned your answer, shaking your head.

Shockingly, all it took was one press of his finger on your clit and you were spiraling. Down, down, down, you went into a pit of passion, fireworks exploding inside your body as you came hard on top of him.

There was no faking the way you made a slight squeaking intake of breath before you let go, the way the moans of his name was a hundred percent genuine and the vice like grip you had on his cock as you shook and shuddered. Seeing you fall apart was a magical sight to Steve that broke his own tether, holding back his own orgasm.

Part of him wished he could be spilling his load deep within you, knowing you were raw and red and leaking all for him, but he’d respected your wishes, knowing it was the safe thing to do to don a condom. He spilled in it, a dragged moan torn from his chest as he kissed you, loving the way you felt in his arms, completely spent.

It took a few minutes of heavy breathing before you and Steve’s breaths began even again and you smiled at him.

“Thank you, for that.”

“Believe me,” he chuckled, entirely spent and extremely far gone—both physically and emotionally for you.

“It was my pleasure.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things smut

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strawberryyyenthusiast · 3 months ago

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More of my diabetic Steve verse!

Steve, who doesn’t realize that Eddie is super famous and robin who could literally not care any less.

Steve and Eddie exchange numbers and text all of the time. It takes a week for Eddie to crack and send this message:

Eddie: Please for the love of god let me take you on a date I need to wine and dine you so hard I think I might pass out

Steve obviously says yes.

Eddie takes them to a small diner because he doesn’t want to risk being seen by crazy fans who somehow always find out where he is. If Eddie is being honest, he blames twitter.

Eddie gets there to find Steve already sitting at a booth, fiddling with something on his phone. His glasses are sliding down his nose again and he is wearing a Wham! graphic t-shirt and light wash jeans. He stands up once he notices Eddie and flashes a huge grin, which causes Eddie to also smile.

They both sit down on their respective sides of the table and get comfortable, making small talk. It takes a bit, but Eddie notices that Steve has the menu pulled up on his phone and laughs.

“Doing some homework?”

Steve looks confused for a second before glancing down.

“Oh yeah! I always make sure to look at it beforehand whenever I go out to make sure that I have options depending on my blood sugar level.”

“What’s your… number, is that the correct term, now?”

Steve nods enthusiastically. “Yes! And let me check.” Steve pulls out a cute green pouch and takes out a bunch of supplies. “I just changed my CGM—“ At Eddie’s confused look, he says, “My glucose monitor. It’s not completely synced yet so I can’t rely on my pod to tell me what level I’m actually at.”

After he says that, Steve cleans his finger with an alcohol wipe, lets it dry, and then pricks his finger. He squeezes the pad of his ring finger and blood pools to the surface.

“Yikes. I’m gonna have to give myself a correction or two.”

Steve cleans up the space but leaves his pouch out, and then wraps a sparkly bandaid on his finger.

“What’s a correction?”

Eddie feels dumb. He wishes he knew more about diabetes and actually researched it before showing up to the diner with no prior knowledge.

“I just give myself a little extra insulin to make my blood sugar go down. I’m flirting with 250 right now and I really want a burger.”

—

The date passes swimmingly and the two men find themselves sitting in the same booth at the same diner, but on the same side. Their hands are intertwined and Steve wrapped up half of his meal to take home.

“I made this for you!” Steve says suddenly. He grabs a stack of stapled papers and hands them to Eddie. “I made you a ‘diabetes guide!’ Since I plan on our relationship being permanent, it would give me peace of mind if you knew what to do in case of an emergency.”

Steve begins thumbing through the packet and explaining everything, but Eddie can hardly focus.

Not with Steve clutching his hand or with him wanting their relationship to become “permanent.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face. “I understand if this is a dealbreaker or whatever, but I just like you so much and I want to be your boyfriend as of two weeks ago.”

Eddie just blinks. Then he smiles. “We only met a week ago, Stevie.”

Steve blushes, tucks some hair behind his ear. “I know that. I just had a feeling that I would meet the one.”

“Yeah?” A pause. “Can I kiss you?”

Steve releases a breath. Puts his hand on Eddie’s cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask. I hope you don’t mind the taste of hamburger.”

Eddie laughs before lunging forward.

—

As they head back to Steve’s apartment hand in hand, Eddie tells him about his more than ordinary job. Explains what might happen when people see them together.

Steve just laughs and says, “I’ve fought literal monsters from hell, I can handle anything.”

Eddie falls more in love than he knew possible.

#diabetic steve harrington #Steve being crazy and head over heels for Eddie is my favorite trope ever I need more of it #Eddie just doesn’t know how to respond he wants to propose right then and there #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #strawb writes #they get hitched a month later #the tabloids never stop talking about how healthy their relationship is

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carolmunson · 2 years ago

Text

good cop, bad cop

part II: daddy lessons, part III: stella

some warnings ahead of time: fem reader, daddy kink, dom!steve, dom!eddie, sadist!eddie (also soft, he can’t help it), brat!reader, sadist!steve (not soft at all unfortch), bdsm aligning punishments, humiliation, degradation, dom training, forced orgasm. also like none of this is following show cannon, but that’s fine. we love smut for smut’s sake.

pls don’t engage if under 18+ cause yikes!

wittle authors note: there were a lot of places this could have gone but i didn’t want to get into anything too extreme! a lot of the punishments in this lil’ drabble are sourced from friends of mine in the lifestyle, so i hope its enjoyed!

Hawkins, 1990

You trudged into the house, snow trickling with you as you opened the door with a creak. You wiped your boots off on the welcome mat and kicked them to the side where Steve’s Nike’s and Eddie’s Reebok’s littered the hallway. Eddie must not have been home, since his Doc Martins were missing from the pile. You hung your coat on the rack, seeing Steve’s bomber jacket at the top. Eddie’s leather jacket was nowhere to be found.

Your heart sunk when you heard the water running in the kitchen and the clinking of dishes. Eddie had asked you to do them this morning as part of your morning tasks but you forgot in the rush of trying to get to the grocery store.

“Hi Steve,” you said meekly, bringing the groceries into the kitchen and onto the table. You avoided Steve’s gaze, just focusing on his arms, his hands hidden in the soapy water.

“You forget something this morning?” he asked, his hair flopping into his face. He placed the last plate in the dish rack on the counter, drying off his hands on the towel hanging on the cabinet knob below him. Steve turned around, leaning on the counter behind him with his arms crossed. His blue and yellow striped polo stretched across his chest, the cuffs of the sleeves tightening around his biceps.

“I didn’t mean to,” you explained, “I’ll do them tonight after dinner, I promise.”

“Don’t tell me,” he said, Steve’s voice was stained with disappointment, “Tell Eddie when he gets home.”

“Eddie doesn’t care if I do chores or not,” you retorted, with a little more attitude than you expected. You opened the fridge, reorganizing some of the leftovers, taking out an empty pizza box (thanks, Eddie), and making room for what you brought home.

“Watch how you fix that mouth to talk to me,” Steve warned, his voice hardened. A little shiver of fear ran through your chest, suddenly more aware of your position in the fridge. Bent over at the perfect angle for him to really give you one with his hand without warning.

When you popped out of the fridge, Steve has maneuvered to the kitchen table to load the groceries out of the bags. You got next to him to help, warmth radiated off of him and the smell of his cologne made you dizzy.

“What’s been getting into you, hm?” he cooed, turning you to face him. His warm brown eyes poured into yours. Steve caressed your face and you leaned into the feeling of his gentle touch – which you had been receiving less and less often these days. “You don’t wanna listen to us anymore, baby? You keep breaking all of Eddie’s rules, do you think he likes that? Do you think I like that?”

You grinned, “Stevie, Eddie never gets mad at me. I broke his guitar strings two days ago, even though he asked me not to touch it his guitar, because he told me my outfit was ‘too purple’ and–”

“You said you bumped into it while vacuuming and it fell off the wall,” Steve dropped his hand from your cheek and went back to crossing his arms. His brows knitted with disbelief at the audacity you had to lie about something like that.

“Okay, so, I lied a little bit,” you confessed quietly, not looking him in the eyes, “But even still, I broke his guitar, I didn’t fold his laundry, I talked back to him in front of other people, I didn’t do the dishes – he always says it’s okay. He always lets me cum.”

“So you listen to me because you don’t like when I get disappointed? Is that right, princess?” he asked. You felt your stomach flip and your cheeks get hot like they always did when he talked down to you.

“It’s like this: you’re the bad cop, he’s the good cop,” you explained, “Sometimes it’s fun to see how far I can keep the good cop being good.”

“So that’s your plan? Push Eddie’s buttons until you can’t anymore?” he asked, going back to the groceries on the table, he laughed to himself, “Why would you tell me that?”

“You always want me to tell you the truth,” you said to him, pleased with yourself. He smirked to himself and looked over at you.

“You’re gonna wish you didn’t,” he muttered, something dark bubbled in his chest as he spoke, “Go upstairs and wait for Eddie to come home. Go change into that little skirt he likes.”

“Yes, daddy,” you nodded, swallowing hard. This seemed new, no automatic spankings when you said that you lied, no slaps across the face when you sassed him. He didn’t call you any names. All the things you were prepared for just to be told to go upstairs and change. You suddenly felt a little empty, you craved the control Steve had over you, his hands on you, how rough he was to start and how gentle he was after you learned your lesson.

You padded into the bedroom and went to your dresser – hm, that little skirt he likes. That pleated one from Catholic school that you never got rid of, how lucky for you that it was coming back in style with grunge on the rise. The blue and green tartan was a little scratchy and it barely fit anymore, but the way it flounced over your ass gave you enough confidence that it didn’t matter. Eddie loved fucking you in it, his little church girl getting blessed by the Devil of Hawkins over and over again.

You shimmied your jeans off, plopping them in the hamper. Before putting the skirt on, you looked yourself over in the mirror. Cheeks still bitten red from the cold, your backside still branded with two lines of fading purple from the last time Steve belted you for acting out at Family Video. You frowned a little, still let down that trying to get a rise out of Stevie didn’t end up with you over his knee. You huffed, sliding the skirt on, slipping a pair of Eddie’s favorite panties on under it for good measure. If you were gonna get spanked later, you might as well keep him a little distracted for it. You smoothed out the white sweater you had on to start, sat on the edge of the bed and waited to be called.

About a half an hour later you heard the door squeak open and the stomping of boots in the front hallway. The rumble of two male voices reverberated off the walls and up the stairs, and while you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew it was about you.

“Baby, come down stairs for me,” you heard Steve call from the front hall. You slowly made your way to the door, tiptoeing down the stairs. From half way down you could see Eddie sitting on the couch with is legs splayed, boots still on. Steve was pacing the length of the coffee table with his hands behind is back.

“All the way down,” Steve said, catching your eye, “Don’t make me wait.”

You scurried down the rest of the steps, standing in the arch way that opened of the living room to the hallway.

“You called me?” you asked, trying to pretend like you weren’t walking into a clear intervention.

“Why don’t you get on your knees and tell Eddie what you said to me today,” Steve stopped pacing, your blood ran cold.

“Um,” you faltered a bit, slowly making your way around the couch between Eddie’s open legs. He looked you over, a hungry smirk broke across his face at your clothing choices. You used his thighs to support yourself getting down on your knees on the ground in front of him. You looked back at Steve, pleading with your eyes if you could skip this part – because the last time Eddie had punished you, he really punished you.

“Go ahead,” he encouraged.

Eddie looked down at you, dotingly, “What do you have to tell me, sweet girl?”

“I um,” the words were in your throat, “I said you were the good cop.”

He exhaled a little chuckle through his nose, “What does that mean?”

“It means, uh, it means,” you stumbled over your words.

“Tell him everything,” Steve warned from behind you, “You don’t want me to tell him.”

“I didn’t do the dishes this morning,” you confessed.

“That’s okay, princess. You can be a little forgetful,” he said, his voice was soft and gentle, such a contrast to Steve’s hardened cadence. Steve cleared his throat, and you both looked over at him, like he’d given you both an order you’ve forgotten.

“And I,” your breath hitched and tears pricked your eyes, “I broke your guitar and the strings on purpose because you didn’t like my outfit. I haven’t been doing the chores you asked me to do. I keep lying to you on purpose and I told daddy you were the good cop because-cause you n-never get mad at me.”

“Then what did you say,” Steve prompted, you looked down at the floor, “Look at him when you say it. Don’t be disrespectful.”

“I said,” you swallowed, “That it’s fun to see how far I can keep the good cop being good.”

Eddie scanned you, his normally soft and playful look turned dark and stoic. You caught the tension in his jaw, and shook at the low rumble that became of his voice, “Hm, that’s disappointing.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled out, your voice rasping. Eddie stood up and swung a leg over you, walking past Steve into the kitchen.

“Do you hear that?” he asked. Steve looked over at you, still on your knees, your head bowed to the floor softly bouncing with your little cries.

“No, must’ve been the wind,” he said, running his hand through his hair. You glanced at the clock, just turning two – you were still expected to make lunch for them. You inched yourself up, watching them chat in the kitchen, pulling plates and cutlery out to set the table. They didn’t look at you at all, and if they did, it was just your body as it entered the kitchen. You watched them talk about their mornings, steal kisses from each other. Eddie’s strong hands skating over Steve’s back while he walked by him, you ached for it to be you.

You gathered up ingredients for sandwiches, the good kind with good bread, placing them on the counter.

“There’s only the two of us, so you can clear that third setting, honey,” you heard Eddie say to Steve from behind you.

“Oh, of course,” Steve said, you listened to the clinking of plates. He didn’t excuse himself while he opened the cutlery drawer into your hip. You didn’t exist. Tears poured out of your eyes while you put the sandwiches together, wiping your face between layers of cold cuts, lettuce, and tomato. You looked over your shoulder to see a bowl still at your chair and took a deep breath, relief washing over you. You hated being ignored.

After dressing their plates with their sandwiches, chips, and a pickle and grabbing them each a beer, you stood there waiting for their next command.

“And so the record store is probably gonna promote me, which is both cool and annoying? I’ll be making more money, but now we have to move band practice to the weekend and I don’t want to always be busy on my days off, y’know?” Eddie explained from across the table.

“Can’t you just adjust your schedule?” Eddie asked with with mouth still full, “And see if you can open a couple of days a week and then do band practice after those shifts?”

Eddie thought about it to himself, “Okay Harrington, looks like there is a brain under all that hair. I’ll bring it up if they end up putting me up for the job.”

“They will,” Steve smiled at him, taking a sip of his bar, “You’re good at it.”

You sniffled and their attention turned to you quickly.

“Oh you know, I almost forgot you were there, baby,” Steve said in a mocking tone, “Did you want some lunch?”

You nodded, afraid to speak, testing the waters in case this was another trap. Eddie reached for the bowl in front of your chair at the table and you caught what it was, your stomach dropped and so did the contents of the bowl as he poured it onto the floor in front of him. Uncooked rice pattered down next to his chair, some of it skidding across the kitchen floor. Your eyes widened as you looked at the rice and then back up at him. Eddie put the bowl back and looked at you, his face still hardened but wicked.

“I’m so sorry sweet thing, I forgot to cook it for you,” he said, “Why don’t you kneel on it for me instead.”

You took a step back, looking over at Steve who was smiling to himself, cleaning his hands off on a napkin. You saw him reach for the kitchen timer in the center of the table.

“Don’t look at him, look at me,” Eddie warned, “Do as I asked.”

It settled in that you weren’t going to be rescued today. Whenever Steve was looking to take it a little past your limits, Eddie always swooped in at the last minute to coddle you. Now that Eddie was taking a page out of Steve’s book, it looked like you’d have to just endure it.

“Yes sir,” you whimpered, taking it one step at a time, your socks crunching over the stray grains before making it to the pile. You lowered yourself down again, the skin of your knees immediately screaming at the contact of the sharp texture. This was out of Eddie’s play book, one of many, in a literal book of punishments he’d written down over the last couple of years that he wanted to try over over time.

“Ow, ouch,” you muttered to yourself under your breath. He grabbed your chin in his hands and looked at you, his dark brown eyes softening a bit at the fear in yours.

“Fifteen minutes,” he said, “Not one sound. If we hear anything, anything, we start that timer over from the beginning. Do you understand me?”

You nodded again, breathless at the command.

“That’s my good girl,” he purred while silent tears spilled out of your eyes at the pain. Eddie couldn’t help himself, you looked do cute when you were helpless.

“See, Ed, you can’t praise her while you’re punishing her,” Steve said to him from across the table, running a hand over his face, “That’s why she doesn’t take you seriously.”

“Oh come on, Stevie, look at her,” he cooed, gesturing toward you, “Look how pathetic she looks. Is that not the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen?”

You smiled a little, trying to focus on the tick of the kitchen time and not your knees. You sat back on your calves for a moment of relief –

“Keep that ass up before I ruin it again,” Steve scolded, always the first to call you out on your posture.

“Yes, daddy,” you responded while adjusting back on your knees, your face burned with embarrassment at how small they were making you feel. So insignificant. Both men looked at each other, judging whether or not your response to a command counted as a ‘sound’. They spared you.

Eddie and Steve continued chatting, Eddie taking his vest off and resting it on the back of the chair while he went to he fridge for another beer for him and Steve. Seven minutes left of the kitchen timer. You weren’t sure if it was an accident when Ed knocked your foot on his way back to the chair. Your knee slid, sending a shockwave of pain through you, bubbling through your chest.

“Jesus, fuck Eddie, come on!” you blurted out, “Fuck!” You desperately wished you could suck the words back in, but they’d already heard them.

“I know you didn’t just say that to me,” a ringed hand gripped your shoulder painfully, then reached to the back of your head to wrench it back by your hair.

“You know what we have to do now,” he said, authority coated his voice more than it ever had, “I don’t like when words like that come out of your pretty mouth. You know I hate that more than Daddy does.”

“No, please,” you begged, hearing Steve walk quickly to the bathroom and back, appearing next to Eddie with a wet washcloth in one hand, a bar of Dove soap in the other.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart,” he said, keeping your head tilted back to face them. You watched Steve get the cloth soapy and sudsy and clamped your jaw closed, you hadn’t had your mouth washed out in months.

“If I have to ask you again, I promise you’ll regret it,” Eddie hissed, “Come on, open that mouth for me.”

You shook your head no and Steve sighed, placing the soap on a clean plate next to the sink. He passed the sudsy wash cloth to Eddie who let go of your hair, “I got this babe, just make sure you’re watching so I don’t have to show you how it’s done again.”

Steve got on your level, Eddie studied him, “You’re really letting Daddy down today, do you understand? Can you please open your mouth or do we have to do this the hard way?”

Your lower lip trembled, you hated that disappointed look he was giving you, but you hated mouth soaping ten times more. You shook your head until he caught your throat in his hand. He was gonna do this the hard way.

“I’m so tired of this attitude,” he said to you, squeezing the sides of your neck, “You wanna see a bad cop, I’ll give you a bad cop.”

Your vision blurred and your head swam at the feeling of him choking you, but it felt different. This wasn’t like when he was on top of you, not like when he was taking the stress of the day out on your body. Not like when he needed to feel good. This was purposeful, he was trying to make it difficult to breath, he wanted you to start choking.

You gagged, your mouth opening involuntarily and your tongue lolling out of your mouth. Steve let go and you sputtered and coughed, just long enough for Eddie to get the wash cloth in your mouth. The moment the soap touched your tongue you wretched, the suds filling your mouth with a bitter taste and slimy texture.

“That’ll teach you, hm?” Eddie asked, his fingers making sure to reach every inch of your gums and the inside of your cheeks. Your mouth filled to the brim with saliva to remove the offending product. When he took his fingers out of your mouth with the cloth, drool pooled out of the corners of your lips. Eddie sat back on the chair and watched you, your face soaked with tears and spit.

“Maybe you should be bad for me a little more often,” Eddie said, “You look so fucking sexy like this.” He reached over to your arm and gave you two squeezes on your bicep to check in. Punishment or not, it’s only okay if you think it’s okay.

You reached weakly to his knee and squeezed two times back, letting him know you were okay. You sputtered again, bubbles gathering on your lips. Steve got up and got a glass of water ready by the sink. The timer dinged on the kitchen table.

“I’ll let this slide,” Eddie said, helping you up from the pile of rice. You winced, listening to more grains fall to the floor, some now embedded into your skin. Pricks of blood on your knees shined bright in the light of the kitchen.

“Christ, Ed,” Steve huffed, “You have to follow through or she doesn’t learn anything. If you want to ease her out of a punishment at least give her something different to do, don’t tell her you’ll let it slide.”

“It just seems unfair,” Eddie confessed, his voice lightening up.

“Was it fair that you had to spend $75 to get your guitar repaired when she broke it on purpose?” he asked, picking up the glass of water. Eddie’s jaw tensed again, looking down at you.

“Go crawl to the bathroom so we can finish washing that mouth out,” he muttered darkly.

“Thaaat’s what I like to hear,” Steve grinned, nudging him, “Feels good to be the bad cop a little, doesn’t it.” They both watched you crawl to the half bath attached to the living room and you immediately got up to lean over the dark green sink, the yellow tinged light over the mirror gave you a sallow reflection. The boys grinned behind you, they looked like demons.

Steve gave you the glass of water and you rinsed thoroughly, rinsing and spitting until the glass was empty. You’d watch Steve fill it up while Eddie scrubbed your mouth, littering you with insults about what a bad girl you were. They tagged team you for another fifteen minutes until they could tell you were tuckered out.

Steve held your face in his hands, “You didn’t swallow any, right?” he asked.

You shook your head no, he kissed your forehead, “Good. Good girl.”

You felt weak and cried out, Eddie scooped you up, bringing you up the stairs to the bedroom, laying you down, “Why don’t you take a rest, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, letting your fingers skate over his rings, “I’m sorry I said you were a good cop and that you don’t punish me. You’re not. You’re a bad cop too.”

He snickered, “We can let Stevie believe that’s true, but I’ll always be your good cop. Daddy can keep doling out punishments, I’ll keep getting you in and out of trouble,” He caressed your arm until he knew you’d fallen asleep.

–

You woke up confused, the sun had gone down. The room was dark outside of Steve’s bedside table lamp. The clock on the wall read 6:30. In a rush, the pain in your knees came back, your muscles were achey.

The door clicked open, and you could hear Steve and Eddie’s conversation.

“Dude she’s definitely better at sucking my dick, you don’t make her excited for it, you just gag her,” Eddie argued.

“Yeah, because she’s deep throating me, freak. She doesn’t do it for you because it doesn’t go that far,” he teased. Boys will be boys.

“If I remember correctly, I think you you love how far it goes,” Eddie’s voice was husky, “She takes her time with me, it pays to be the good cop sometimes.”

“Hi,” you said groggily so they could hear you. The light clicked on and you squinted at the harshness of it, your eyes slowly adjusting.

“Hi pretty girl,” Steve said softly, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, laying back on the bed. Steve crawled next to you, parting your legs, you obediently bent your knees and flattened your feet to the mattress.

“Eddie was thinking since you did a good job learning your lesson today that you earned a little reward,” Steve ran his hand from the top of your chest to the hem of your skirt, you shuddered.

“I don’t want this little outfit to go to waste,” he murmured into your neck, pulling some of the skin between his teeth. You let out a soft moan at the hot breath on your neck and at the feeling of his hand sneaking up your thigh.

Steve got on his knees and his hand slid higher, Eddie standing at the edge of the mattress, flipping your skirt up so he could watch. A finger slid over the fabric covering your pussy and your hips twitched.

“Patience, baby,” he said, “You remember what you said to me in the kitchen? How you can be as bad as you want and Eddie always lets you cum, but I don’t?”

You smiled eagerly, “Yes daddy.” Eddie started taking his belt off and placed it on the bed, undoing his jeans.

“So daddy’s gonna let you cum, tonight,” Steve said, keeping eye contact with you while he let his thumb massage your clit over your panties. Your hand reactively went to his wrist to keep him there, he kept going. Steve pulled you up by the back of your neck to leave a rough kiss on your mouth, quickening the pace of his thumb.

Your breath hitched and when you met eyes with him again, you saw that darkness still behind them. It suddenly hit you that you weren’t out of the scene from earlier. Eddie got behind you and reached his hands up your sweater, running his calloused thumbs over your peaked nipples. You couldn’t hold in a moan if you tried, all the stimulation already felt overwhelming.

“Daddy’s gonna let you cum as many times as he wants.”

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #dom!steve harrington #dom!eddie munson #dom eddie munson #dom steve harrington #steddie x you #steddie x reader #steddie x reader smut #steddie x you smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #the steddieverse

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inviswounds · 2 years ago

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It'll Never Be Real - Robin Buckley

WARNINGS: Food, internalised homophobia, angsty-ish, swearing, kissing.

SUMMARY: You've been avoiding Robin for a while now, ever since the last week of school when she confessed something you weren't ready for.

CHARACTERS: Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington, mention of Billy Hargrove & Mike Wheeler.

A/N: Just to give you a bit of a timeline, this is happening way before the events of season three. Steve doesn't know Robin is gay yet. I wanted to write it like he already knew, but obviously the mall "burnt" down after season three so it wouldn't make sense if they worked at scoops. I'll try to write one where he knows using the family video store which they work at in season four :)

Your POV:

On a hot summer's day like today, the only thing better than going for a swim in Hawkins' community pool, would be getting some ice cream. You and Nancy had planned to go swimming at the pool, but that plan was quickly shut down once you found out Billy Hargrove got a job there as a lifeguard. You had nothing against Billy other than his rough exterior, his harsh words and his overwhelming urge to look so damn punchable. So actually, you had a lot against him. But to be fair he was a pain in the ass.

Now that your pool plans had been ruined, the best option you had was the mall. It had opened at the beginning of summer causing chaos. Everyone wanted to be there. Hawkins was a small town and the new mall was the biggest thing to happen there since Nancy's younger brother's friend went missing and your friend, Barb, too. You still shudder at the thought of it.

Pushing past the unwelcome thoughts your mind always seemed to wander to, you forced your lips into a smile as you stepped out of Nancy's car. Though, it didn't take long before your fake smile turned into a real one. You loved the mall. You had gone almost every day of the summer since it opened. You and Nancy walked together through the mall, basking in its colourful glory.

"What should we do first?" Nancy asked, her smile growing bigger the more she looked around. You pointed to one of the stores, lit up with bright fancy lights that showcased all the colourful shoes it offered.

"That one!" You squealed, grabbing a hold of Nancy's hand and dragging her into the shoe store.

In just an hour and a half, the two of you had already covered multiple stores and were now carrying a heap of bags. Both of your eyes lit up after noticing the bright blue and red lights of the sign that read, 'Scoops A'Hoy.'

"Ice cream!" You squealed, turning to look at Nancy who carried the same expression as you.

"Uh, hell yeah!" She replied. She grabbed a hold of your hand and began pulling you through the crowd of people, aiming directly for the ice cream parlour ahead. Just as the two of you were about to reach the entrance, Nancy stopped. She gasped before quickly pulling on your hand, dragging you to the side and out of sight from the employees, and moving you away from your promised destination.

"Nancy!" You whined, unsure of why she pulled you away.

"Shhh!" She hushed. "It's Steve! I didn't know he worked here!" She peeped her head around the corner, looking at the brunette at the counter once more, before moving to look at you again.

"Huh?" You said, turning and following her eye-sight into the store. Your eyes locked on Steve Harrington, Nancy's ex.

"Yikes, Nance," You started, wincing at the sight. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."

"No, no. It's fine." She said. She brushed out her dress and fiddled with her hair, trying to gather herself.

"Nance?" You questioned, raising a brow.

"What?" She said blankly, looking back at you. "Oh, come on, I'm just trying to look presentable."

"Presentable?"

"I don't want to look like I need him, you know?"

"You don't need him." You corrected, folding your arms.

"Yeah, but, he tends to see whatever he wants to see." She replied, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. You shrugged before you both slowly made your way inside the parlour. Nancy wore a straight face, pretending as if she was not affected by Steve's presence. You couldn't help but smile while looking at the ship-themed decor, the blue and white painted walls and the delicious desserts that filled the display cases. By the time you reached the counter, you were practically drooling.

"Ahoy ladies!" Steve yelled happily, not looking up from the counter. "What can I get yo-" He paused once he noticed Nancy. "Nancy, Uh- Hey." He quickly pulled his hat off of his head. She smiled sheepishly at him. The two of them stared awkwardly at each other for a moment before you decided to break the tension. You cleared your throat.

"Um, can we get one vanilla and one strawberry, please?" You said smiling. Steve's eyes broke away from Nancy's and quickly met yours.

"Oh, yeah, sure thing." He said. He tapped a few buttons on the cash register as you handed him some money. He turned to face the back window and peaked his head in slightly, "Hey, Robin, little help?" You flinched at the name that fell off of his tongue.

Robin? No. Please don't be Robin Buckley. Please. You thought. You had been desperately trying to avoid Robin Buckley ever since the end of the school year. She had built up the courage to admit that she liked you. You were shocked. Obviously. You had been told all your life that girls weren't supposed to like other girls, and you had always tried to ignore the part of you that did. You did like girls. But over time you had convinced yourself that you liked one thing more. Other people's validation.

[FLASHBACK]

"I don't know how to say this," She said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "But, Um-" Her voice shook as she spoke. You bit your lip slightly, afraid of what she was about to say. "I like you." Your eyes shut tight as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You knew this was coming. "Like a lot, I really like you." Robin's eyes glanced over your face, trying desperately to get a read on whatever you were thinking.

"Robin, I–"

"Oh." She interrupted, sadness flooding her voice as it cracked and broke through her words. "I'm sorry, this was a bad idea, I shouldn't have-"

"No, no, Robin–"

"Look, I get it, you don't like me." She said, wiping away a tear that fell down her cheek, trying her best to cover up her feelings. "You like guys."

"Robin–"

"It's okay, it's fine, really,"

"Robin, look," You started. "It's complicated, okay?" You caught a glance of some of your other friends in the corner of your eye and your head immediately turned to face them. Robin followed your eyes, locking hers with the group of girls that laughed and giggled just a few steps away.

"It's not about me, is it?" She asked, her eyes pooling with tears once more. You turned back to her, not able to find any words to respond with. "It's not about liking guys, is it?" Another tear slid down her face as she bit her lip to stop it from trembling. "It's about you wanting to be little miss perfect for all of your stupid little friends." Her eyelashes blinked rapidly in an attempt to stop any more tears from escaping. She had already been vulnerable with you enough today, she didn't need to show any more of herself.

"Robin," You spoke softly.

"Just forget I said anything." She interrupted, grabbing her things and standing up. "Y/N, you may try to be perfect, but," she bit her lip and shook her head, letting out a small huff. "It's not real. It'll never be real because you're not yourself." And just like that, she turned and walked away.

You blinked rapidly, trying to hold in your tears, as you watched her walk further and further away from you. Your lips parted as you turned, now just looking at the blank space. As her words replayed over and over again in your mind, you gulped, trying to take them all in.

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Your whole life you had done whatever you could to get people to like you. You tried your hardest to be kind, to follow trends, and basically do whatever anyone asked of you. If you didn't meet their expectations, they would throw you out. You craved their validation. You needed them to like you.

As much as you wished that people would just accept you for you, you understood that it probably wasn't going to happen. It was unfair, you knew that. It was always going to be unfair.

"No thanks!" A voice called. As soon as you heard the voice responding to Steve, you knew it was her. You darted behind Nancy in an attempt to hide yourself from her. When you peeked over her shoulder, she was nowhere to be found.

"What? Robin?" Steve repeated. Suddenly, the window slammed shut, blocking Steve's view into the back room. He paused for a moment before slowly turning and making his way over to the ice cream canister. You and Nancy looked at each other, unsure of what just happened. You moved to stand next to her again. Steve slid open the freezer and scooped one scoop of vanilla before placing it into the cone. He handed it to you.

"Thank you." You replied, passing it over to Nancy. He turned back to the freezer before scooping another scoop, this time of strawberry, and placing it into a cone. He handed it to you with a smile bigger than before.

"So, Y/N, uh– how's it going?" He asked, resting one of his arms on the counter. You took a lick of your ice cream as you looked at him, not really sure what he was trying to do. Nancy stood beside you awkwardly. "You busy tonight?" As much as you felt bad for Steve, there was no way in hell you were going to play along with his little game to annoy Nancy. You had known Steve for ages and even became good friends with him, but Nancy was always going to be your priority.

"Yeah, um–" You stopped. "I have plans."

"Oh? Doing what?" He asked, raising a brow. You looked around, searching for any sort of excuse. Before you could get too ahead of yourself and answer with something crazy, Nancy interrupted you.

"Girls night!" She said, smiling awkwardly. She quickly pulled on your arm, dragging you out of the parlour and away from whatever awkward situation had just happened. The two of you giggled, arm-in-arm, as you talked about it.

Steve pressed his lips together and sighed. He really knew how to make a fool out of himself. He ran a hand through his hair as he pushed the door to the back room. Robin, his co-worker, was sitting in the corner nervously.

"Are they gone?" She peeped.

"Yep. They're gone." Steve breathed, flopping into one of the seats with a loud sigh. His browns suddenly furrowed as he flung his head up to look at Robin. "Wait– What just happened before?"

"Huh?"

"With you not doing your job? and slamming the window shut on my face?" He asked, annoyance lingering in his voice.

"What- I- Well- You know!" She stuttered, unable to get the right words out.

"No, actually, I don't know."

"Well! It's just–" She stopped herself, almost as if she were fighting with her own mind on what to say. "Never mind." Steve rolled his eyes before leaning back in his chair and letting out an annoyed groan.

"What is it? Just tell me!" He whined, growing more frustrated.

"Well, I don't know," She started, biting her lip. "A friend of mine really likes Y/N, like a lot," Steve turned to her and raised a brow. "And sh- He told her that he liked her." Her voice began to crack as she spoke. "And um, she didn't like him back." She looked down at the floor, "Or she was afraid to like him back."

"So?" Steve interrupted, breaking the emotional moment. Robin looked at him. "What does that have to do with you?"

"Nothing! It's just–" She paused, resting her head against the wall with a sigh. "It's just awkward because she knows I'm friends with him." She looked down, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "She knows I know."

"Right, so it's awkward? So what?" Steve said, shrugging his shoulders. "Did you not see what just happened?" He added, referring to whatever had just happened at the counter before. Robin's frown quickly turned to a smile as she let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, that was pretty bad." She replied, smiling back at the boy. The two laughed for a moment before they were interrupted by loud teenagers giggling and the sound of the shop bell ringing repeatedly. They both groaned simultaneously.

"It's your turn." Steve said, leaning back in his chair.

The moment you and Nancy had left the store, she was quick to jump to her many questions.

"What was that?" She asked, looking toward you.

"Steve? Yeah, I know right." You laughed.

"No. I was talking about how you hid behind me."

"Huh? What? No, I didn't." You lied, trying to cover for yourself.

"Uh, yeah you did." She corrected. Your mouth opened as your mind searched for the right words to say, or the right excuse, but nothing came out. Just as you reached the parking lot, she stopped and turned to face you, grabbing your arms to keep you from moving. "Just tell me, do you like Steve?"

"What?" You gasped loudly, quickly looking around to see if anyone heard what she had just accused you of. "Steve? No!"

"Then why were you being weird?"

"I wasn't being weird!" You protested, jerking your head back quickly in shock.

"You froze when he asked you out."

"Yeah because I didn't know what to say!"

"Because you wanted to say yes, but you couldn't because I was there."

"No! Wait- what? No!" You argued back. You paused and took a step back, trying to ease the tension the two of you had created. "Look, okay, it wasn't Steve I was nervous around."

"What?"

"He mentioned Robin." You said quickly before forcing your mouth closed in an attempt to stop yourself from saying something else you'd regret later.

"Huh? Who?" She questioned, raising a brow. You took a deep breath before finally giving up on your attempts to conceal what really happened.

"Robin Buckley. She works there." You replied softly, looking down at the floor. "He said her name, and I heard her voice, she was there."

"Um, okay? I don't understand."

"I've just been avoiding her, okay?" You snapped, wanting nothing more than to just move on from the subject.

"Are you going to tell me why?" She asked. You stared at her for a moment. Nancy was your best friend. You had known each other for years. She loved you and you loved her. But still, a part of you wasn't sure how she'd react to the truth.

"Just– something happened."

"What happened?" You had always loved Nancy's curiousness, it was a part of who she was. But now it was just making the fighting in your head worse. Should you tell her? Could you tell her? You were constantly at war with yourself, never truly understanding your own feelings and never truly being able to express them. You wished it didn't have to be this difficult. You wished that the panicked anxiety that tore through your stomach daily, forcing you to keep silent, would for once just go away.

"I can't." You said softly, almost like a whisper. Your voice cracked slightly as tears pooled in your eyes. Nancy noticed how fast your defences fell. She noticed how quickly you put up that wall and shut her out, just like you always did. But to be fair, it really wasn't your fault. It was the worlds.

She didn't say anything after that. Instead, she sighed and headed towards the car. You followed slowly behind her. When you both reached the car, you got inside and sat in silence for a moment. Suddenly, Nancy shifted in her seat to face you.

"Y/N," She said gently. You turned, looking at her, and realised the concern she now carried in her eyes. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you." Her brows furrowed softly as she nodded, gulping down the lump that grew in her throat. "You're my best friend, and you can tell me anything," She continued. She looked away quickly as she bit the inside of her cheek. Your lip began to tremble as tears flooded your eyes. You tried your hardest to hold them in. "Just know, I'm always going to love you no matter what."

Silence filled the car once more. She slowly looked up again and turned back to face you. Now she could see all of the emotion held up in your eyes and she could almost feel how heavy your heart sat behind them. She quickly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. A tear slid down your cheek as you held each other.

What you didn't know, was that Nancy knew. She had always known. And she loved you regardless. It didn't matter to her whether you liked girls or guys or anyone. People were people. People loved people. Nancy understood that. Little did you know, a lot of people understood that.

By the end of the week, you had built up the courage to go see Robin. You had been arguing with yourself back and forth ever since the day she confessed. You knew how hard it would've been for Robin to tell you, and even worse, you knew how hard it would've been to let that memory swim through her mind over and over again, tormenting her.

As you drove through the streets of the small town you lived in, small droplets of rain began to patter against the roof of your car. You didn't notice it at first. But when the light tapping turned to a much louder batting against the car, you worried that maybe it was a sign. A sign for you to turn the car around and go back home.

As you reached the familiar house and pulled over, you raced with the rain to get to the front door. Thankfully, the struggles of running through the rain gave you no chance to worry if this was the right decision. You instinctively knocked your hand against the door, wanting to get away from the rain. A few moments later, the door swung open revealing Robin's mother.

"Oh Y/N, it's so lovely to see you again!" She said, smiling. She looked at your slightly wet hair and the light droplets of water that fell from your shoulders. Thankfully, you hadn't gotten too wet. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Uh, is Robin home?"

"Oh, right, yes!" She replied, turning to glance around the room. "She should be here somewhere, probably her room," She moved aside, signalling for you to come in. You walked through the door and headed towards Robin's room. You paused at the closed door. Was this a bad idea? You thought. Before you got the chance to further argue with your own thoughts, your hand lifted itself to the door and knocked.

"What?" Robin called out from behind the door. Your mouth opened but no words escaped. "What is it?" She said louder, annoyance lingering in her voice.

"Uh, it's me." You managed to choke out. There was no response. Instead, your ears were met with the sounds of Robin ruffling and running towards the door. You gulped as you watched the knob turn and the door fall back.

"Y/N?" She said softly. She looked you up and down, unsure if it was really you.

"Hey, uh–" You paused to clear your throat, sucking up the courage to actually talk to her. "Can we talk?" She stared at you for a moment before moving aside, allowing you into her room. She shut the door behind you. "Look, um, I just wanted to say I'm sorry." You said. Your leg bounced up and down as you avoided eye contact. "I'm sorry for how I reacted and I'm sorry for avoiding you and–" You stopped yourself. You knew what your mind wanted to say but you weren't sure if you'd ever be able to find the right words to say it. A part of you didn't want to say it at all, but you forced yourself to ignore the part of you that told you to hide.

"Y/N," She whispered. Your name fell off her lips so gently that it was almost like she never said it at all. You looked up at her eyes, watching as they filled with tears. Say it. Just say it. You thought. But you couldn't. And you wondered if you'd ever be able to say it.

The brief moment of silence between the two of you gave you your chance. You opened your mouth, begging for the right words to spill out, but instead, it closed. Instead, your eyes lingered down to her lips and before you knew it, you collided. You pressed your lips against hers. She fell back a little, shocked at the sudden movement, before kissing you back. You both pulled away and stared at each other.

"I–" You started. You licked your lips as you looked down. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I–" Your mind began to fill with millions of unwanted thoughts that tore through your mind repeatedly, yelling at you that you had done something wrong. Before you could dig the hole deeper, you rushed out of her room. You could hear the faint sounds of her calling your name but you ignored them. You hurried through her house and out the door, running straight into the pouring rain.

You gasped as you felt someone grab your wrist and swing you back around. Your lips met with Robin's once more as she pulled you into her. You froze for a moment before wrapping your arms around her neck, allowing yourself to deepen the kiss. Her hand slid up to your cheek, gently holding it as her other grabbed onto your waist. She held you close to her, not breaking the kiss. The rain hissed as it fell down on the two of you, drenching your hair and clothes.

You blinked rapidly as you pulled apart, looking back into Robin's eyes. You stared at each other for a moment, still holding each other, but unable to talk. Your chest heaved as you looked at her blue eyes through the rain, watching as they sparkled. Suddenly, her hand moved from your face as she broke the silence.

"Y/N–"

"I like you." You interrupted. Your teeth instinctively bit your lip, telling you to shut up, but you didn't. "I like you a lot." Your breathing slowed as the tension in your body fell. It was scary, sure, but it sure felt good to say it. "Like a lot, a lot."

"A lot, a lot?" She mimicked, tilting her head with a smile.

"A lot, a lot." You repeated, your smiles turning to soft giggles. She grabbed your face gently, stroking your cheek with her thumb and looking at you lovingly. "I don't want to hide anymore," You said. Her eyes moved to your lips and then back to your eyes. She pulled you into her, attaching her lips to yours once more. Your arms tightened around her neck, trying to bring her closer as you laughed and kissed in the rain.

Little did you know, that in a few weeks time, you'd be sucked into a supernatural mess filled with secret Russian operations and otherworld dimensions. And even worse, Steve Harrington.

[ COMMENT, LIKE, REBLOG & REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

#Robin Buckley #Robin Buckley Stranger things #robin buckley x reader #reader x robin buckley #robin buckley imagines #robinbuckley #robinbuckleyxreader #readerxrobinbuckley #robinbuckleyxyou #youxrobinbuckley #strangerthings #strangerthingss4 #strangerthingss3 #Stranger things season four #stranger things season three #stranger things s4 #stranger things s3 #Robin Buckley and you

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infitsovermisfits · 2 years ago

Text

Video Killed the Radio Star - Steve Harrington x GenderNeutral! reader

AN: yeah at this point I'll write for any stranger things character from the Fruity Four lmao i love them all and they deserve to be happy. sorry if this feels rushed/ fast it's like 4am here and i wanted to get this done asap so little to no editing (yikes) anyways. wooooooo

WARNINGS: gender-neutral reader, alternative/goth reader, reader in their 20's/out of school, bullying, parental issues, mentions of fire - the aftermath of Starcourt, spoilers for 'The Last Unicorn', Steve is alluded to bi/ openly bi to Robin, mentions of parental neglect, absent parent, alluded to dead parent, mentions of death, set before season 4

word count: 7673

Steve thought of himself as confident, self-taught through his high school years. He was also observant, noticing small details in himself and others. Changes that usually no one would see.

You had been here a few times before. You'd glance over the new releases and rivals but rarely something would catch your interest there. Then you'd move across the store to the horror section and stare at the covers until something piques your interest. You'll pick up a tape, look it over, run your fingers, decorated in chipping black nail polish and various rings over the artwork and study it for a moment. You take your time with the images on the front cover, curious eyes scanning over the work to deconstruct any clues as to what the film's about. If you've seen the movie, you're less curious, taking it and holding it in your hand as you pick out other films, then stand and look between the two tapes you're most interested in, silently weighing which one you'd rather see.

Sometimes, you go in and examine the tapes but don't rent any out. He wonders if it's because you don't have the money, or because you changed your mind. And where normally he'd stride up to you and ask if you need help, he always finds himself glued to the spot. If he's at the front desk, he makes himself busy by grabbing a sheet of paper and scribbling while sneaking careful glances up at you; if he's stacking the shelves, he'll make sure to be slow, pretending to lose his place in the alphabetical order or arranging and rearranging the tapes just to be near you longer. Always, though, he's stuck in an internal battle with his mind over saying anything.

You've charmed him, he guesses. Typically, it's the other way around- Steve doesn't just spend twenty minutes styling his hair to not get compliments from the girls on it. But you're there dressed in all black like it's someone's funeral, necklaces hanging loosely around your neck, shoes with platforms to make you taller... And he feels the heat rising on his neck, his heart pounding and his palms clamming up.

He doesn't usually do that,

"Are you gonna just keep staring or...?" Robin asks, nudging him in the side as she joins him at the counter, causing him to straighten, "C'mon Steve, you're usually stalking the person up the aisle-"

"I don't stalk people, what?" He turns to his closest friend with a frown,

"You do, dingus," He rolls his eyes at the nickname, involuntarily sneaking another glance at the only other person in the store, "All these poor people just trying to come and find a good movie to watch on a... Wonderful Thursday evening and you are being a huge weirdo," She smiles to herself as she runs a boxcutter over the tape holding the box of new deliveries closed,

"I am not a weirdo," He justifies, "Okay? What if they're looking to steal something, huh?" He doubts you would. He moves to the computer and pretends to click on a few things. He still hasn't figured out how it works entirely- Robin's the expert. He just skims over the text,

"Why would you just assume that though?" She looks at him with a frown, "They could just be looking- it's a video store that's what you do. You don't just randomly grab a movie off the shelf and go 'I wanna see this!'" She says, "You look at things- movies? They're moving pictures so we watch-"

"I'm not an idiot, Robin," He rolls his eyes and smiles when she laughs,

"Ok, but are you sure? Because it kinda-"

"Excuse me?" Your voice interrupts their bickering. Two sets of eyes land on you. Without him noticing, you moved toward the counter with a tape. He did find it odd today that you strayed from your usual spot at the horror section and moved over to the kid's section, placed lower so the little ones can see the selection better. Maybe you had a younger sibling, "Sorry- I'll just-"

"No, it's okay, we were just talking uh-" Steve straightens quickly, moving back to where he was at the counter near you. He tries hard to stop his hands from shaking, "What did you need?" He asks with a smile,

"I just wanted... It's kinda stupid. I've never seen this movie before and I was just wondering if... If you knew it was good?"

Perhaps Steve hadn't spoken to you before because he believed in all the rumours. That anyone who wore so much black and listened to music fit to summon the devil himself was clearly evil, or at least shouldn't be messed with. Because you were the new kid, starting school halfway through sophomore year after moving to Hawkins unexpectedly. Maybe because he faintly remembered how Tommy H had gotten his gum stuck in your hair in sixth period, and how your eyes had welled with tears and how you had run out of the math class.

And he didn't say anything then. Or do anything to stop his 'friend'. Once again, proving he was just the ignorant asshole everyone made him out to be.

But he was learning. Learning how to accept people for their strangeness and oddness of the people around him- and not letting guys like Tommy H be the real assholes. He hardly ever spoke to the guy anymore, though he kept calling and trying to make plans with Steve, he'd blow him off. He far preferred the company of Robin: who would sit and talk his ear off about grasshoppers and praying mantes she thought were cool; who would involuntarily spoil the plots of movies he mentioned he had never seen before; who would kick him in the foot and nod to the door whenever a girl she thought was pretty would come in, and blush and fluster and stutter under her gaze.

A weathered copy of 'The Last Unicorn' sits on the counter before him. His brows raise, and from his peripherals, he could see Robin's mouth open slightly in shock. It was certainly unexpected. After seeing you rent out the copy of 'Halloween' so much, he thought he had your type down cold but... Here you were. Surprising him,

"Oh, that..." he really doesn't know what to say. All he can do is blink at such an innocent-looking creature on the cover of the movie, then look back at 'scary', intimidating you. The words die on his tongue, as all he can do is stare into your eyes. He thinks they're the most beautiful he's ever seen,

"I mean I read the book and it was great- I loved it," You start saying, hand tracing the outline of the Unicorn on the front cover, "The design of it looks cool... I don't know if that's enough to convince me to rent it," You frown, twisting the tape around to look at it better, "Cause you know. What if it's not accurate to the book and I hate it? I'll only think about that when I want to reread it," You say, and your eyes meet his again,

"Yeah! I get that," Steve mentally kicks himself for not knowing what to say, "I mean, I honestly haven't watched, or uh... Read the book but you know," He shrugs, "Unicorns right?" He laughs. You blink slowly, a frown set on your lips. Your eyes no longer have an excited spark in them and he feels awful,

"Yeah," You say slowly, "Actually I think I'm gonna put this back-" he can't stand how sad you sound,

"No! It's uh-" He shakes his head, "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound so mean. I mean, you should see what some other people rent out," He says,

"Oh?" He's glad he has your attention again,

"I mean yeah," He shrugs, "You learn not to judge," He assures, "I've never seen this one before either but from the cover, it looks good. What's the book about?" And that's enough for the smile to return to your face,

"It's... Okay, I realise it sounds stupid-" You start,

"Well, there's plenty of other stupid movies out there," He smiles, nodding for you to go on,

"See this unicorn?" You tap the illustration on the front, "She goes on a journey in search of her family after finding out she's- well, the last of her kind," You smile fondly, "I like it because of the topics of mortality, you know? Like... She's this immortal and she's not human. Creatures like that- they don't experience emotions like you or me," He could listen to you speak about this forever,

"That's a lot for a kid's movie," His brows knit as he glances at the screen and taps the letters of your name one by one on the chunky keys of the keyboard, focusing hard to not mess it up and confuse the backspace with shift again,

"Book wasn't for kids," You say, "My uh... Mom would read it to me sometimes. It was her favourite so... Y'know. I admire her taste," He nods to you and says the total, taking the money and counting out your change, "Hey, uh... Thanks, Steve," His head perks up and he loses count of the quarters because you said his name,

"For...?" The cold metal of the coins inside soothes his warm skin as he clenches his fists a little tighter to stop them from shaking,

"Not judging me," You smile. It's not a big thing he's done. Simply asked you about a film you like. The absence of snarky comments about your age and genuine interest in what you liked- you weren't used to that. And certainly not from former King of Hawkins High, Steve 'The Hair' Harrington,

"Of course," He smiles, "Tell me how your movie went," He nods to you. And you give him this smile, this beautiful smile that warms his heart. He wishes that moment, where you're looking at him and just smiling, full of joy, he wishes it would last forever. He wishes he could commemorate it in his mind, because he swears your happiness could clear the very rain clouds from the grey sky.

The day is long. Customers come in and out occasionally, but nothing too busy. The sun is already setting by the time he and Robin close up and he feels exhausted, knowing there'll be a lot more folks tomorrow and the weekend. He drives Robin home, mostly quiet as he listens to her,

"But did you see the way she looked at me!?" She waves her hands in exasperation,

"Which one?"

"The red-head!"

"Uhh... No, was I on break?"

"You checked her out? She rented 'Baywatch'?"

"Can't remember," Steve mumbles as Robin groans, dragging her hands down her face and smudging her mascara,

"Are you still thinking about the 'Unicorn' person?" Where he hoped and prayed to God or anyone else above that you hadn't seen him blatantly staring at you anytime you came to the store, he should have guessed by now his equally observant best friend would have caught on, "Cause I haven't seen you so wide-eyed and shaky since that guy at-"

"Wh- I'm not thinking about them! Or Kyle, for that matter," Robin groans,

"Steve, you can do so much better than a guy called Kyle,"

"What's wrong with Kyle?"

"The fact that he's called, Kyle," Steve rolls his eyes, "Come on Steve- you gotta get better standards. That guy was sleazy as hell and definitely lying about his age!"

"Why'd you even take me to that bar if you were just gonna complain about all the guys I went and talked to?" Steve asks, sending her a small frown. She sighs,

"Because A, I don't want you getting hurt or heartbroken by some weirdo and B, you deserve someone who will actually like you for who you are!" And though she likely won't ever know it, those words mean the entire world to Steve. If he wasn't sure now, he was definitely, one hundred per cent sure that Robin loved him- platonically of course, only ever. But she clearly cared for him. Of course, she would ask him to take them both out to a gay bar two towns over in hopes that he'd find someone too,

"How's Cassie?" He asks, trying to somehow make the prickle of tears in his eyes go away by asking about someone she had met,

"She's nice," Robin smiles too, wide, "She introduced me to a friend of hers actually. Her name's Therese,"

"Sounds fancy,"

"She's from France," She makes joins her fingers and thumb together to make a point, waving her hand, "From ze great of Paris," He laughs at her poor attempt at an accent,

"Okay, that wasn't French,"

"How would you know French!" She shoots back,

"I might not know French but I know enough that that wasn't close- and what's this?" He makes the same gesture, "That's Italian-"

"No, it's French, Steve!" Their argument continues as it usually does, and though Steve eventually concedes, even though he knows it's one hundred per cent Italian, he still smiles brightly. Once he drops her off, he decides he needs to do something nice for Robin- show her how much she means to him.

Without her, he wouldn't be... This. Sure, he's been stripped of his title of King, and he hasn't gone on a meaningful date that hasn't ended in making out or sex in years, but that really doesn't bother him. Though, he does long for love. Robin certainly wasn't wrong about that. He does deserve someone to love him for who he is. He'd accept anyone's flaws if they accepted his.

A few years ago, he would have likely driven by the only bookstore open in town without so much as sparing it a glance. In fact, he has to turn back when he realises he missed the corner on which it stands, the parking spots in front of it empty and a 'closing down' sign plastered to the front, along with various sales of varying percentages. Now, he's getting out of his car, and he doesn't stop to look around the street to make sure anyone who knows him isn't around. Frankly, he doesn't care who sees him. He has nothing to fear- after all, social and public scrutiny are nothing compared to smashing creatures from the upside down to goop with a baseball bat, and fistfighting Russians beneath a mall. A small bell jingles to signify he's inside,

"Hey! I'm just in the back!" He recognises the voice that calls out as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, dropping his keys in the left. He glances around at the bookshelves all around- some are already vacant, with boxes labelled with different genres scrawled on the fronts, "Sorry- just moving some things back there ahead of time- Oh!" And it's you. And you're surprised to see him there, "Hi, Steve," There's a pleasant smile on his lips- not the one reserved to appear nice to customers, but one for friends, or someone you know,

"Hey!" He greets, "I didn't know you worked here," Of course, he didn't. This is his first time setting foot in this bookstore,

"Yeah, well," You shrug, "I got the job when I first came here... And now it's going out of business so, technically I won't be working here soon," There's a sad smile on your lips now as you glance around the cosy store, and let out an equally pained sigh,

"Sorry to hear that..." His gaze follows yours along the bookshelves, focusing on all the empty spaces left by the missing books, "It looks really cosy here though... Wish I'd stopped by here sooner," He grimaces,

"Yeah, well... No use dwelling on the past," You say, brushing your hands on your clothes. It's the same outfit you were in earlier that day, you just have your name on the name tag pinned to your shirt, "You're here now. Managed to catch me before I go," You smile as you walk to the counter,

"Before you go?" He tries not to sound too panicked at the thought that you were leaving just as he had started getting to know you,

"You know. Cause the store's closing down?" You tap a sign on the counter that reads 'Big Closing Down Sale! All Books Must Go!'. He relaxes, nodding and glancing around,

"Oh, right," He mumbles, "Well, in that case- do you have any books on bugs?" You blink at him, "Uh, not like... For kids- it's for a friend. She's really obsessed with them. Wants to be an uhm... Eto..? Etomologyst?"

"Entomologist?" You try,

"Yeah! That!" He smiles brightly, "You have any?"

"Mmmm... I think? I'll check in the zoology sections," He's thankful you motion with your hand for him to follow you through the bookshelves. You don't glance at them to even check you're going to the right place- though they're marked from A to Z as he reads on the small inscriptions. You turn and he follows you all the way to the end, stopping at the 'Z's, "We organise them by genre," You explain, "Alphabetically and according to genre,"

"Huh. We try organising like that too," You look from the books back to him. He forgets how to breathe for a moment,

"You do?"

"Yeah," He swallows, "Like uh... With Horror, we'll start the 'A's at the front and... Yeah," You nod,

"I've noticed. Sometimes they're out of place though," You mumble, attention going back to the books. You step a little closer to get a better look, "It bothers me so I fix them up," You say quietly,

"Thanks- makes my job easier," And you laugh pleasantly,

"I wish we had customers like you, Steve," You say through a tired sigh, folding your arms as you continue looking over the shelf, "Couple of months ago we had a few freshman run in here and start ripping up our books-"

"Holy shit, seriously?" He frowns as you nod,

"These kids have no respect for fine literature," Then you pause and your shoulders go slack, "I sound so old," You joke, and he laughs softly,

"You sound like Mr Adams," He says. Your attention snaps back to him,

"I do... Oh god," You say, putting a hand on your forehead, "Yeah, you were in that class with me," You nod, looking back at him, "I do sound like him," A look of disgust crosses your face and he laughs,

"Oh I guarantee you're far more interesting than that old guy," Steve says, watching as you crouch down and open a box, sliding your fingers over the spines of the books and reading the titles, "And far less creepy," You finger halts over a title he can't read, on the account that it's upside down, and you look up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. You look like you want to say something to him, but then you change your mind. Going back to the books. A silence falls over the two- Steve can hear faint music playing. A piano playing a vaguely familiar song. He listens intently to the melody though he can't entirely decipher it-

"There!" You stand quickly, brushing the dusty cover and sniffling a little at the dust that flies off it. You hand the book to him, 'Entomology- Cedric Gillott' printed on the front cover, "It's got the basics and information and that stuff in it. Good read, I think," You say. And as he reaches out to take the book from you, his fingers brush yours. Though he can't see them, covered under the book, he feels his skin tingle at your touch. Your hands are cold. Steve wants nothing more than to gently take them and hold them in his until your warm up,

"Thank you," He whispers as you give him a nod and close the box again,

"That's all we have- sorry! I thought I'd have more but I guess not," You say as you stand and move by him. And as you do, your elbow brushes his, sending more tingles running along his skin. He follows after you almost blindly, tripping over a box as he goes and snapping him back to reality. He feels like he's walking on clouds and his head is spinning. Jesus Christ- if he didn't do something about this crush soon-

"The movie!" He stutters out once he gets to the counter. You're tapping in his total but stop at his sudden outburst. Maybe some small, impatient part of himself finally won and took the reigns, tired of not talking to you and pining over you for so long. He blinks back at you, surprised himself, and feels the skin of his face heating, "You- you rented the movie. The uh... 'Last Unicorn', right?" You nod, "You watch it yet?"

"No, actually. I had to come into work- my co-worker called in sick so... I'm planning on watching it tonight though- the book'll cost you two dollars, by the way," You say with a slight smile,

"Only two dollars?" Steve asks as he pulls out his wallet,

"Well yeah. We're going out of business. I originally wanted to do a one-dollar sweepstakes situation but my manager told me he still wants to make money," You laugh softly as he hands you a ten. You blink, "I uh... I don't think I have change-" You open the register and frown as you rifle through coins,

"Keep it," He says, sliding the book of the counter, "I... Maybe you could buy some popcorn? For the movie?" You glance from the ten he placed on the counter then back to him, then you smile,

"Regular microwaveable popcorn's only like... A dollar, Steve," You say softly,

"Have you seen what they charge for a bucket at the Cinema?" You laugh at that, "And who says you need one pack when you could buy eight?"

"Right," You laugh again, taking the money uncertainly. There's a frown on your lips, and you glance back at him like you want to say something- hand it back to him and tell him to keep it and take the book for free. He opens his mouth, ready to urge you to keep it but you beat him to it, "Well if you're free tonight, maybe you can watch it with me?" Your voice goes quiet, like you're afraid someone else in this vacant building will hear. Steve's eyes widen at your proposition, and you must think that's a bad thing. Because next thing he knows, you're shaking your head and shuffling through the coins again, "Never mind- I don't know why I asked that," You chuckle nervously as the coins clink beneath your fingers as you count them out,

"Hey, no, no, you don't have to do that," It's fairly hard to contain himself with how happy he is you asked him out. No one had ever asked him out. It was always the other way around, "I'll watch the movie with you. I mean, I've never seen it before and I work in 'Family Video', I might as well be well versed in my movies," He tries to play it off cool, though the smile on his face stays put as you relax and smile back,

"That's... Nice," You say, looking at the coins in your hand, "But..." His heart sinks, "Won't you uhm... Be embarrassed?" You ask in a small voice, now frowning sceptically, "Or worried?"

"Worried- why would I be worried?" He asks confused,

"You know... To be seen with me?" You ask with a frown, "I mean, after all, I'm the 'terror of Hawkins', I've eaten a live snake before," You say in exaggeration, relaying rumours that had been spread about you from the moment you set foot in this town, "You're not... Scared people will... Talk?" You're quiet now, so full of self-doubt it breaks him, "The former King of High school with the New Town Freak?"

"How could I be worried about what other people think of me?" He says, "When I'm happy I get to... Spend time with you," He smiles at his own words. You can hear the genuineness behind his words because you smile wider and nod,

"Yeah," You say softly, "Uh, so... I get off in about... Oh! Ten minutes! I'll close up early and uh... Yeah," He almost can't wait, standing near the door and grinning, trying to make himself look busy by opening the book he bought and glancing through the page. Some words he remembers from Robin's rants but others just confuse him. Though he can't be entirely focused. All he knows is he's going to watch a movie with the person he's been crushing on for weeks.

You emerge soon, wearing a long black jacket, hiding your name tag and a bag on your shoulder. You pull a set of keys out as he walks out with you, waiting patiently as you lock the door and pull down the shutters. He even offers to help with the second one, seeing you struggling as it appeared to be jammed. He shows you the trick he learned through closing up 'Family Video' so many times, realising the two places got their shutters from the same place. You look at him with wide eyes as he shuts it smoothly- you thought about the months of you making a fool of yourself by yanking the metal down while it squeaked and groaned under your straining. It hardly made a sound when he did it. Naturally, you ask, and he's all too happy to tell you about working at 'Family Video'.

Talking with you is easy- where he doesn't think his time serving aboard the ocean of flavour at Scoops Ahoy last summer was that eventful, you ask him what his favourite flavour was. He'd love to tell you about the Russians and his adventures that led to the mall burning down, but that'd be a story for another time... Or never. He wouldn't want you exposed to that kind of danger. Maybe when you were a safe distance away from Hawkins he'd tell you, but for now, he was all too eager to tell you about how good of a combination of salted caramel and mint chocolate chip was.

You get popcorn and various snacks within the ten-dollar budget, though when it comes to paying, he does it for you. You don't mention anything at the store, but when you get to the car, you offer to buy the pizza to repay him. He's hesitant at first but eventually relents. You ask more about salted caramel and why on earth someone would eat ice cream with the flavour of toothpaste,

"I live just here," You point to the house. It's small, and all the lights are off, "My dad doesn't get home 'till late," You unbuckle your seatbelt and pick up the bags from the floor of the car. He offers to carry them for you. You slap his hands away, though relent when you comically struggle with the door.

It's small. That's never been a bad thing to Steve. As you take your shoes off, sitting on the steps to the second floor, he picks up the bag you set down and glances around. There are pictures of a happy family on the walls- real pictures. Men and women gathered around in a yard talking and laughing, around a campfire, one playing the guitar, children playing in the snow and on the playground. And once you motion for him to follow you to the living room he's stricken by a large painting hanging above the couch.

It depicts winter over a dark wooden cabin, with flowers of various reds and blues painted on the large white support beams around it, and decorating the window frames. The roof has a thick blanket of undisturbed white snow, around a foot deep, covering it, and the fields in the foreground don't look any different. To the right, half of a similar house, this time a more warm, orange tone in wood sits, a pathway trodded in the snow by footprints dragging mud from the frozen earth below and staining the pristine white. Beside the path, two long tracks run, indicating a cart of some kind had driven through there. As he stares more, he feels weight leaving his arms, and he spots a horse-drawn carriage with minute details off in the distance, disappearing just over a hill. A large building sits in the back, though it's such a dark shade of grey that it mixes with the deep ashen clouds, resembling a palace formed from clouds, or something akin to Dracula's castle. He had missed it before, but opposite the houses on the right, some deer walk through the snow. Just two- one with antlers, one without. They're so small yet so precisely painted. He can see the individual streaks of paint where the colours were married together. Then at the bottom, in swooping black- no, deep, rich grey, the colour of thunder clouds, is a name he doesn't know how to pronounce with '75 next to it,

"My mom painted that," He's pulled out of the winter by your warm voice. You're smiling fondly, standing beside him with two cans of Coca-Cola. He can faintly hear the popping of popcorn from your kitchen. He closes his mouth, wetting his lips and standing back a little to admire the painting as a whole,

"It's... It's really beautiful," He says, and you laugh softly,

"Thanks... It's my dad's favourite. He says it reminds him of home," You reach out to touch the name on the bottom, tracing a line with your fingernail under it, "I remember her painting it. I think I was ten? Or eleven? I can't remember," You offer one of the Cokes to him and he gladly takes it,

"She's really talented," You nod, "Where is she now?" He asks softly, as if that'd help soften the blow of the question. It never does,

"She's gone..." You say, "Left. Didn't come back home one night," It's all you say before the microwave dings and summons you away. You set the coke on the coffee table, covered in magazines and an open notepad. His eyes fix on multiple games of tic-tac-toe where 'x' mostly won with the occasional draw. There's a half-empty beer bottle and the can of coke, as well as a plate with crumbs littering the surface.

Your living room is cozy- nothing huge with needless statement pieces and excess furniture to fill the void. There's a couch, a worn armchair with an open crossword puzzle on the side and the remote balancing next to it. The television sits on a cabinet, and there are large shelves next to it- one shelf dedicated to books, another containing a bowl of sea-shells and framed pictures he can only see the colours of- soft beige and light blue- beach photo he guesses. Nearby are what appear to be handpainted figurines, mostly animals. Then an angel, a piece of its right-wing is chipped off at the tip. A clock ticks away on the wall and there's a calendar stuck on June next to the shelf. More paintings on smaller canvases hang up there, and from the browns and greens, Steve can't decipher what they are. He'd have to get closer,

"How did you convince me to buy this much popcorn?" You laugh. You pour the contents of a bag into a bowl half-full of popcorn already so it almost spills. You throw the bag in the direction of the trash and miss, before taking a kernel from the top and eating it. He finds it adorable when you yelp, fanning your mouth upon burning yourself,

"Yeah, you should be careful with that. It's hot," You give him a playful glare as you join him and set the bowl down,

"Thanks for the advice, Harrington," You tease, and he simply grins and winks at you as you move past him to shut the blinds, hiding various plants placed on the windowsill from view. The room is dark, given the slithers of light that remain outside, and you quickly turn on a large lamp that casts a warm yellow glow. Steve realises he had never felt more welcome and at home than he did in that moment. His cheeks hurt considering he can't stop smiling to himself. As you pick the VHS tape from your bag, delicately sliding the cover off and leaving it on the table, he takes a good look at you like this. Your home is comfortable and small, and you look relaxed and calm. With a small sigh, he sits on the couch, and finally shrugs off his jacket once you place the tape in. Before you walk over to him, you grab a book he hadn't seen near the dresser and smile as you hand it to him,

"'The Last Unicorn'," He reads, glancing up as you grab the remote from the armchair, nodding and placing another popcorn kernel in your mouth. And for one, horrifying moment, he thinks you'll sit away from him when you place a knee on the plush of the chair,

"Mhm," You hum, reaching for a cream-coloured blanket resting over the chair, "It's a good read- really," You assure as you, to Steve's relief, move off the chair and walk over to him, "I'm letting you borrow it once we finish the movie," You wink at him this time. His heart beats a little faster.

The couch is small, and when you sit down you curl your legs under you and pull the blanket over them. You then glance up at him, holding the blanket open and motioning closer to yourself. He sat further away, but this invitation to come closer warms his heart. He shuffles over until your legs touch his thigh just gently, and allows you to drape the blanket over him. You hand over the remote- he notes you paused the Tape on a commercial- and grab the underside of the coffee table to pull it closer. You easily reach for the popcorn, shifting around so the bowl can sit comfortably between you two,

"Ready?" He can hear the excitement in your voice; see it on your face. He set the book back on the table,

"Ready," He says, reaching for his can of coke and motioning for you to do the same. He holds it up, in a mock toast, and you laugh as you dink the cans together and drink a sip each.

Steve Harrington didn't expect a movie about Unicorns to make him so emotional- and neither did you. But here you both were, taking turns sniffling as the unicorns emerge from the water, safe from the bull, and run to chase their freedom. You only paused it halfway to pick up the pizza from the front door that he hadn't realised you must have ordered while he was busy admiring the decor. Over the course of the movie, you had moved from laying down, to sitting up, to clutching Steve's hand, and now you were leaning against his shoulder with his arm around you,

"Holy shit, man," You laugh wetly as the credits roll, sitting up to wipe the tears from your cheeks and stretch your arms above your head, and your legs out under the table, "She really found them,"

"Go Lady... Uh-"

"Amalthea," You smile, turning your head to him, "Were you crying too?" There's surprise in your voice,

"Wh- Yeah? Are you kidding me?" He sits up with a slight smile, setting his legs on the floor, "God- I understand why you like the book, with all the mortality stuff?"

"I know!" you say excitedly,

"I mean, her crying over being in a human body-"

"I know!!" You repeat excitedly, "God- that, the last scene and the first scene with Molly g-"

"Molly was the-"

"The lady with the funky hair," You say as he nods, "But yeah. That part got me. Molly- ugghh!! She deserved better!" You say, flopping back on the couch with a bright smile, "I really enjoyed that, Steve," You tell him softly, turning your head. It's music to his ears and has him smiling and blushing all over again,

"I'm glad," He said, "I'm glad you invited me over too," He says honestly,

"Yeah... I was kinda... Hah- sorry if this is rude, you know," You shrug, "But uh... I've never been on like... A date before?" The surprise must be clear on his face because you nod and look away bashfully. This was a date to you... "Yeah, hah... Guys like you would only ever ask me out on dates as a joke. To laugh at me," You say in sadness, "Invite me to dinner or a movie and never show, or they'd tell me to my face that it was a joke or a dare," You grimace,

"That's so shitty," Steve frowns, "I'm sorry they did that-"

"Hey, it's fine," You laugh weakly, "I mean, it was years ago, right? Guess times change once you leave school," You shrug, looking back at him, "But... You proved me wrong. Guess I can't judge a book by its cover- I mean," You gesture to yourself, "Look at me. I'm a walking contradiction," You smile, "I dress like this but look at my house. Looks like a grandma lives here," He laughs at that, "Well, it does!" You protest,

"I like your house," He says, "It's really... It's nice,"

"Heh- sorry it's no mansion, rich boy," You tease, setting an elbow on your knee and resting your hand,

"Hey, I mean... Your home at least looks like someone lives in it and not like it's a set ripped straight from Ikea," He grimaces. You laugh softly, to humour his joke, but give him a long look,

"Is that why you were staring so much?" You ask the question softly, "At the pictures and the painting?" You gesture loosely behind you as he nods slowly,

"My parents are busy people," He says softly, matching your gentle tone, "They don't have time for decorating. It's just whatever looks expensive or whatever works the best and there. No style or coordination or anything," He sighs, "I mean... There's so much empty space and nothing to fill it... I'd give anything to live in a place like this," He said honestly, your eyes never leaving his face, capturing his eyes once he finished speaking and holding his attention there,

"Well, Harrington," You say, reaching a hand out to touch his, "You're welcome to come over whenever you want to," He feels like you're about to lean in. Or say something else. He hardly has the strength to turn his head away from yours to look at the clock. He squints to read it but sees it's getting late- and some small, insecure part of him starts whispering he's outstayed his welcome,

"I should start heading home," He says, nodding to you as he stands and stretches his aching back, reaching for his grey jacket,

"Oh right," You hiss, standing too. And when he catches sight of your face, he doesn't miss the disappointment there,

"When are you free next?" He asks, shrugging the jacket on, shaking it a little to hear the jingle of his keys,

"Mmm... I start at eight and finish at two," You say, reaching down to grab your long empty coke and fiddle with the tab, "And if my co-worker isn't home then I finish at five like normal," You say, "But that's... Only tomorrow. Last day," You grimace,

"I see," He says as you remove the tab and grab his, removing it too. You stash them in your pockets, then grab the blanket, draping it over your shoulders like an oversized cape,

"Yeah... It's bittersweet you know- that old store closing means I have no job anymore but... Hey, at least I'm free more," You shrug, smiling,

"That's... Good?" He asks as you walk him to the door. You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes and giving him a look,

"Didn't you just ask me when I'm free next time Harrington?"

"Oh, right," You laugh again, sweetly. He puts his shoes back on, bending down to tie his laces, "Yeah, I mean... If you're looking for another job then-"

"I already have one," You assure him as he stands, tilting his head as if to say 'go on?', "At the library. Pays well and, well, I'm well equipped for the job," You say,

"That's good," He smiles, already mentally calculating the fastest route from the library to his workplace,

"Yeah- we'll be close by. It's like a five-minute walk," You say, as if reading his mind,

"Huh," He smiles, "I can always drop you off...?" He offers,

"I prefer walking," You tell him, "Thanks, though. And thanks for watching this with me," You say softly again, stepping closer, "Hey, if you wanted to do this again, next time, we could watch something you like? We'll make it fair," You say smiling, "One of us picks the movie, and the other buys the snacks?" You hold your hand out for him to shake,

"Sounds like a great deal to me," He says, "Can't wait,"

"Can't wait for you to scream like a little girl at 'Alien'," You laugh to yourself. Though he'd never seen it, he heard the more... Gorey bits from Robin explaining animatedly how some creature pops out of someone's chest,

"Eugh- I'd prefer watching the unicorn movie over that," He chuckles to himself and reaches for the front door,

"Hey, c'mon. Alien's classic!" You smile, "Fine... 'Jaws'," You suggest,

"Better. I always liked that one," He says,

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, because I bet you I could outswim the shark," He says, hearing you laugh loudly as he opens the door, "What? You've got that little faith in me? I was captain of the swim team for years! A lifeguard for two- I'd punch that shark right in the nose!" He makes a loose punching gesture and leans against the frame of the open door, watching as you laugh to yourself clutching your stomach,

"It'd bite your hand off!" You laugh out, and he shakes his head,

"I'm too fast. I'm like... A ninja," He shrugs, smiling as your laughter dies down and you're left beaming at him, face illuminated in the cool light of the moon outside, eyes sparkling as you look up at him,

"Sure you are," You say softly. For a moment, all you do is stare into his eyes, holding his gaze, unblinking. Your eyes flick over his face, his hair, and the freckles dotting his skin. Your eyes flick from his lips back to his eyes, where they already hold your gaze. He wants to reach out, touch your skin and feel its softness under his fingers as he brushes hair from your face. He wants to feel the touch of your lips against his. He wants you to know how he feels- how he doesn't want to leave and go back to that silent, frozen house. He wants to be here- in the warmth, your warmth, surrounded by family and love,

"Drive safe, okay?" Your voice is so quiet he almost doesn't make it out over the crickets chirping outside. And when he realises you're so close he can feel your breath mixing with his, he's almost startled,

"Okay," He whispers back, causing you to smile. Your eyes dart down once again, before you're moving a hand up to touch his cheek and closing the distance. He almost doesn't react at first, sure this is some dream. But he wakes up soon enough and realises you're kissing him, and this is the safest he's felt since he emerged from the fire. He reciprocates, lips moving against yours just gently, not intending on starting anything. Simply letting himself feel loved and... Happy. Like he wanted, he moves his hand up to touch your face, just holding you there as you kiss. He feels your hand move down his face, delicately sliding down his neck and resting on his shoulder, toying with the collar of his polo. In turn, his hand curls around your waist, and he's delighted to find you moving impossibly closer to him, so you're pressed close, safe in his hold.

When you get short of breath you pull away but don't stray too far, resting your forehead against his. You lifted yourself on your tiptoes to match his height and when you stand back down he follows you, tracing your gentle skin with his thumb, commemorating the touch to memory,

"Will you take me out tomorrow?" You ask softly, pulling back enough to see his face. His pupils have darkened slightly, yet he's looking at you with a look of pure adoration, setting the butterflies in your stomach and chest swarming, "We could go to the park? I could uh... Read you the book?" You offer,

"It's a date," he tells you softly, and your smile widens,

"A date..." You repeat, exhaling happily. With a grin, you stand back up on your tip toes, kissing his cheek and stepping back, "Oh- wait here!" You say quickly, momentarily ducking back to the living room and emerging with a pen. You take his hand, turn it over and scrawl a few digits on the back, "Call me when you get home, okay?" You ask. He takes your hand in his and squeezes it gently,

"Of course," He nods, "Goodnight," He adds, deciding to lean forward and plant his lips to your forehead. Reluctantly, he lets go of you, before turning and walking to his car. Though he hears the door close behind him, when he turns, he spots your face in the window. He grins, and you grin back, waving a hand as he goes to his car.

All Steve can think about as he drives home is the buzzing of his lips and the ache in his cheeks because he kissed you. Because he found someone who loves him back just as he is. No facade, no bravado. Just as Steve.

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