#s4 coffee table | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

keikikait · 1 month ago

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ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 4.6k

summary: you wait up for rafe after he leaves you for sofia

warnings: ANGST/THEMES OF DEPRESSION. please only read if you're comfortable!, reader literally sits on her couch for 2 days, forced undressing (not sexually), no smut but they shower together, rafe is trying to be good i promise, i haven't finished s4 so if i get shit wrong about his house i'm sorry, not proofread

a note: ik i just posted part 1 yesterday but like. i had to keep cooking. let me know if you want a part three! also, i think this is my longest fic to date...

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

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You wait for him all day. Like the good girl he expects you to be.

You shower and pamper yourself, trying to take the edge off, but it’s all for naught. You were going to be an anxious, stressed mess until you heard those three knocks. You sit, fully dressed in a simple crop top and miniskirt, watching TV. You don’t dare move from this spot, just in case he decides to come home to you early.

The clock strikes one, and the waiting is too much for you. You're anxious, stressed, nervous; everything that you didn't want to be. The waiting feels like hours but also like seconds, the seconds ticking away painfully slow and too fast, the minutes and hours passing without your realization or intention.

You watch the TV with unseeing eyes, still sitting on the couch, fully dressed. And then it strikes two. And all you can do is wait some more. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there. You’ve already made it through a season of the show you were watching, mindlessly staring at the screen.

Sitting.

Waiting.

The sun starts to set, orange and pink hues streaking across your living room. You don’t move from your spot, starting to grow even more anxious. The tag on your shirt is starting to irritate you, but you don’t dare to move. You didn’t want to miss him, didn’t want to miss the knocks from your bedroom.

The sun completely sets, the only source of light coming from your TV. It’s just a few minutes after 6:00pm, but the room feels dark, so much darker than any other night before. Your phone vibrates, dancing across the coffee table, but it isn’t Rafe, so you don’t answer it, not wanting to miss the three knocks. Your patience grows thin, and each second feels like an eternity. Waiting is never a pleasant thing. Waiting for him is even worse.

6 PM turns into 9 PM, and suddenly it’s midnight. Rafe never came home.

You continue to stay up, pinching your arm occasionally to wake you back up. You didn’t want to miss him. You had a habit of being a heavy sleeper and sleeping in, and you knew that you would miss the knocks.

You grab your phone, scrolling through Sofia’s Instagram with shaky hands. There was no point in checking Rafe’s, he barely posted. The little pink ring swims around Sofia’s profile picture, and you click on her story.

The first story is from 12 hours ago, showing a plate from a fancy brunch spot on the mainland. The date he ditched you to take her on. The next story is from 10 hours ago, a shot of both of their hands holding cups of ice cream on a pier somewhere. He was wearing the gold Ouroboros ring you bought him, and it makes your heart clench. The next story is from 7 hours ago, a selfie of her looking frustratingly gorgeous in Rafe’s bedroom, the covers pulled up over her bare chest.

Did they fuck? Even after everything that happened last night?

The last story is from 3 hours ago, a selfie of them together outside a sushi restaurant, her arm around his neck while he looks off into the distance, a cigarette in his mouth. He’s still wearing that stupid ring.

Did he forget about you?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

You hope, foolishly, that he would text you, tell you he’s running late and that he’ll be there soon. But he doesn’t. You don’t move to text him first, knowing he won’t respond anyway, especially if Sofia is next to him.

You set your phone down, feeling completely overwhelmed. The possibility of them sleeping together tonight makes you sick to your stomach, but you wouldn’t put it past Rafe to do something like that. Especially after what he said yesterday.

She’s my girlfriend.

And you were just his…what? His friend? His side chick? The other woman? A warm mouth and a tight hole that he sought out when he was done with Sofia’s shit?

You drop your phone onto the floor, grabbing the pillow from under your head and pressing your face into it, trying to silence your sobs. It takes everything in you not to scream into the pillow, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. How could you be such an idiot? He never fails to make you feel so naïve. You thought last night would change everything between the two of you, but it didn’t.

All it did was remind you how worthless you were, that you were just his second best. Maybe the picture that you painted of him looks better in your mind.

You suddenly jump when your window slams shut. It blows open again before slamming once more, your curtains rippling with the wind. You get up, shuffling across the room. You shut the window, drawing the curtains closed, but not before looking out of them to see if Rafe’s car was parked outside.

It wasn’t.

You lay back down, resting your head on your pillow, starting to stare at the screen again. You make it through a few more episodes of whatever the hell you put on before it suddenly shuts off. Even the show’s characters didn’t want to be with you. Your head is pounding, your throat is dry, and your eyes are red-rimmed and swollen from your tears. Your heart aches, and your lungs sting with every breath you take.

You don’t even move to turn the TV off or try to fix it. You just lay there, crying in the light of the TV static.

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The sun rises, and you don’t get up at first.

You didn’t want to move, just in case he showed up, but part of you knew deep down that he wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. You fix the TV before laying back down, staring mindlessly at the screen, trying to distract yourself. You reach down onto the floor, grabbing your phone. You check Sofia’s Instagram again. The little pink circle around her picture taunts you. You click on it anyway, wiping the tears out of your eyes.

Joining the remaining stories from yesterday is one new post. A selfie of her with a clay facemask on, one eye closed as she blocks the sunlight with her hand, lounging beside Rafe’s new pool. She’s wearing a necklace with a diamond ‘R’ charm on it, as if she’s personally rubbing it in your face.

You lock your phone, putting it down on the floor before sliding it away with a flick of your wrist. It doesn’t go far, hitting one of the legs of your coffee table. You change the show on your TV, picking some true-crime documentary before laying your head back down.

You watch the show with distant eyes, feeling completely numb. You don’t know why you keep checking her account, knowing it would just make you feel even worse. But you do it anyway, because maybe deep down you deserve it. You think about texting him, asking him if he’s coming over today. But you don’t dare. You don’t want to come off as a clingy whore.

Your phone buzzes from the floor, vibrating the coffee table, startling you. You stay on the couch, reaching across the floor with one hand and grabbing your phone. You eagerly turn it over, expecting it to be from Rafe, maybe a long apology text, or even just a simple ‘On my way over.’ The phone doesn’t immediately light up. You hate that feature. You tap on the screen, your face immediately falling.

It’s just an email from your electric company about your mid-cycle usage report.

You let out a sharp scream, chucking your phone against the wall. It doesn’t shatter, but it bends around the sharp corner of the plaster.

The scream of frustration is cathartic, but it doesn’t last long. It’s quickly replaced by the feeling of loneliness that has become so common these past few days. But right now, it seems like a million times more unbearable. You start to cry again, burying your face back into your pillow.

The sun sets, and then it gets dark. You don’t move.

You can’t move. What if he comes back? What if this is the time he knocks? You can’t miss them. You can’t miss him. You curl yourself into a pathetic heap on the couch, hoping that he’ll come back. He will. He has to. He has to know how miserable you are. He has to realize how badly he’s hurting you and actually care about it this time.

But each hour feels even more hopeless than the last. You stay up, wide awake, all night thinking about him. You don’t hear a single knock. You don’t see any headlights or cars pulling up into your driveway. There’s nothing but crickets in the distance and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

You barely pay attention to the show in front of you, staring with unfocused eyes at the screen. The sun starts to rise, casting a soft pink hue onto your living room. You’ve been sitting on your couch for two days, waiting for a man who probably doesn’t want you. Two days. Two days of sitting here, hoping, praying that he would come back. Two days of sitting here like a fool, waiting for a man who’s with someone else.

Yet you can’t seem to find the motivation to get up. You can’t. Just in case, this time, he shows up.

Your head throbs, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You shut your eyes, burying your face in your pillow. You wish you were laying your head on his chest instead. Your thoughts are too loud, too consuming, too overwhelming. It’s hard to think clearly, to sort things out in your head. You’re so exhausted, mentally and physically, that you start to doze off.

You fall asleep, face buried in your mascara stained pillow.

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Your eyes suddenly shoot open when you feel your shoulder being shaken and a hand on your face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Wake up, I’m here.” Rafe’s voice is like music to your ears. Soft, low, deep. You feel his large hand against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he tries to gently coax you awake. He’s here. After two long days of no food, no shower, no company except your own miserable thoughts, he’s here.

“Rafe?” You ask, head and body aching from two days of laying completely still on your uncomfortable Ikea couch.

“Yeah, baby. I’m here.” Rafe says, his voice soft and gentle. His fingers trail along your cheek, his hand so big against your face. He tries to hide it, but you can see the slight grimace on his face as he takes you in. “Are you okay? I tried calling you this morning, but you didn’t answer.”

You glance around, trying to take in your surroundings. You finally fell asleep, and judging by the slowly setting sun, you slept for a while. “My phone, I um…” You gesture to the smashed phone laying across the room.

Rafe sighs, his brow furrowing as he glances over to your smashed phone. “I’ll buy you a new one.” He says, looking back at you. His expression falls, and his eyes narrow. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Two days.” You say, sitting up. You’re still in the same crop top and miniskirt, your hair starting to feel greasy and itchy.

“Jesus, baby.” Rafe exhales, shaking his head. “Have you eaten anything?” He asks, brushing your messy hair out of your face gently.

“I was waiting for you.” You say, completely ignoring his question. “You said you would come back. I was waiting for you.” You look up at him, feeling completely and utterly pathetic.

His eyes soften, his hand moving to cup your face in his palm. “I know. And I came back, like I promised.” He says soothingly, his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Baby, you look terrible.”

“No, you promised me two days ago that you would come back.” You say, your voice growing thick as you start to cry again. “You said after your brunch date with Sofia that you would come back.”

Rafe opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again. He doesn’t say anything for a while, as if trying to come up with something to say. His expression shifts slightly, from sympathetic to something else, something almost akin to guilt. He sighs, finally speaking, “I’m sorry. I know. I didn’t realize how late it was until it was too late to swing by here.”

“So you left me hanging for an extra day?” You ask, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry, alright?” He says, still gentle, but a hint of irritation is there. “I know I said I’d-… I said I’d come back, but I lost track of time, baby. I had to hang out with her for a while to keep up appearances.”

“Oh, fuck you and your appearances!” You say, standing up. You lose balance, reaching down with one hand to balance yourself on the arm of the couch. “Just admit that you didn’t want to see me.”

Rafe reaches out to steady you on your feet, frowning. “That’s not-… I did want to see you.” He says, his voice growing sterner, more irritated. “But I had other obligations. I had to keep up appearances. I told you that.”

“Don’t expect me to believe that bullshit, Rafe.” You say. You try to pull away from him, but he tightens his grip on your arm. “You can just dump me, you know.”

“Yeah? So can you.” He snaps back, his grip on your arm tightening even more.

Your face and eyes twitch slightly, your chest aching. You feel so stupid. Your breathing starts to escalate, coming out of your nose in short puffs. “Let go of me.”

“No.” He says, his voice hard, stern. He still grips your arm tightly, not wanting to let you go. He knows you well enough to understand that you would storm off, maybe even lock yourself in your bedroom. Both of Rafe’s hands move to your hips, pulling you closer. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“No!” You shout, trying to pull away. You twist around, reaching down and trying to tug his hands apart. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Baby, look at me! I said, look at me!” Rafe raises his voice, finally using his strength against you, pinning you against his chest with his arms around your waist. He’s got you pressed flush against him now, one hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him, your neck craning. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, sweetheart.”

You squirm and wiggle, starting to cry. “You can’t treat me like this!”

His grip tightens, his jaw tensing as he grips your chin and face roughly. It almost feels like he’s manhandling you, forcing you to stay in place as he glares at you. His blue eyes have a hard edge to them. “I will treat you anyway I damn well please, sweetheart. You’re in no place to make demands or tell me what I can and can’t do. I said, look at me.”

You finally meet his gaze. You just sit in his grasp, sniffling as more and more tears threaten to fall. Your bottom lip trembles, and you wonder if you look as pathetic as you feel.

Rafe sighs, his expression growing soft. He loosens his grip on your face, his thumb caresses your cheek. He takes a deep breath, counting to four. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s get you cleaned up.” In one swift motion, he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder as he makes his way towards your bathroom.

“No! Let go of me!” You whine, pounding your fists against his back.

“Quit it.” He snaps, reaching behind his back and grabbing both of your wrists, yanking your hands away from him as best he can. “I swear to god, sweetheart, I will spank you if you don’t stop punching me in the back.” He pushes open the bathroom door, setting you down on the edge of the bathtub, your wrists still in his grip. He turns on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before turning to you with a sigh. “Take off your clothes, sweetheart.”

“No.” You whine, trying to tug your wrists away.

He scoffs, exasperated. “I’m tired of having to repeat myself to you, baby. You’re gonna take a goddamn shower even if I have to force you to, so drop that attitude real quick, or I’ll strip you myself.” He leans in closer, his eyes darkening, his jaw clenching again. “You wanna be bratty and defiant with me? I can get real bratty with you right back, sweetheart. Real bratty.”

Your eyes water and your bottom lip trembles. Rafe sighs, taking another deep breath. He had to be nicer to you. “You gotta shower, baby, come on.” He grabs the bottom of your crop top gently, thumb rubbing along the hem.

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks. When your scalp starts to itch, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, mascara smeared, you realise he’s right. You raise your arms up.

“Good girl.” He says, sounding relieved. He reaches behind you to grab the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up over your head. He can see how exhausted you are, how awful you look and how horrible you must feel. He gently drops your shirt on the floor, gently running a hand through your hair with a sigh. He reaches behind you and grabs the waist strap of your skirt. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

You obey, lifting your hips.

Rafe slides the skirt off your hips and down your thighs, setting it on top of your shirt on the floor. He then grabs the waistband of your panties, kissing your hipbones as he tugs them off of your legs and adds them to the pile of discarded clothing. He then reaches forward, gently running his fingers through your hair. “You’re so pretty, baby.” He says, his voice quiet.

“Thank you.” You whisper.

He can tell that you’re still upset with him, and while he’s annoyed by it, he tries to maintain his composure, trying to be patient with you. He steps back, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside before undoing his jeans. “Come on, pretty girl. Get in the shower while I undress.”

You nod, standing up on shaky legs and stepping into the shower. Your muscles instantly relax under the water as you step in, back facing the water.

Rafe watches you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your body before you shut the curtain. He quickly discards the rest of his clothes. Slowly, deliberately, he steps into the shower behind you, not wanting to startle you. He reaches over and moves you a little to the side, giving him room under the water to stand with you. He gently spins you around so your back is facing him, the water hitting your chest. He glances around the built-in ledges of your shower. “Where’s your stuff?”

You point to the metal shelves you stuck onto the wall, full of expensive products, all gifts from Rafe.

He glances over at the shelf, noticing how neat and precise everything is. Rafe laughs as he grabs your shampoo. “God, you always gotta have everything organized.” He teases, pulling you against his chest with an arm wrapped around your torso, his strong hand pressed against your stomach. He kisses your shoulder before lifting your hair away from your neck to kiss there, his chest and abdomen pressed flush against your back.

He pours a fair amount of the shampoo into his hand, setting the bottle down. He hasn’t had to actually wash his hair in so long, he forgot what a normal amount of shampoo looks like. He rubs his hands together, lathering it up before starting to gently massage into your scalp. “Keep your head tilted back so you don’t get anything in your eyes.”

You tilt your head back, reaching back and putting your hands on his ribs to keep steady.

He hums in approval as his fingers work, rubbing and massaging your scalp. His body is relaxed against your naked curves, his fingers now working through your hair slowly, ensuring it’s completely lathered before he moves onto the conditioner. He keeps the conditioner in your hair while he washes your body. You reach up and grab your face wash yourself, squirting some into your hands before thoroughly washing your face, trying to get the two-day-old mascara off. Rafe keeps his arm wrapped around your upper body so you can keep leaning against him.

After rinsing yourself clean, he turns the water off, pushing the shower curtain open. He grabs a towel for himself off of the hook by the shower, stepping out. “C’mere, baby.” He says quietly.

You step out, watching as he wraps the towel tight around his waist. He grabs another from your linen closet, holding it open for you. “Arms up, sweetheart.” He says, waiting for you to obey, and you do, lifting your arms.

Rafe quickly wraps the towel around you, gently rubbing your body to dry you off. He then pulls you close, hugging you. One hand holds the back of your head, the other resting on the small of your back. He’s been craving the feel of your bare skin for the past two days, and it was nice to finally feel it again. “I’m sorry.” He says, quietly, sincerely. His lips graze your forehead.

“Why couldn’t you have just texted me?” You ask.

Rafe pauses, sighing. He was worried this would come up at some point. He tries to choose his words wisely, so he won’t start a fight so soon after the initial one. “Because… I…sweetheart, I was trying to keep a low profile with her.” His voice is just above a whisper. “Texting you would have let her know there was something going on.”

You shake your head. “You could’ve texted me and then immediately deleted the conversation. She wouldn’t have noticed.”

“I thought of that,” He starts, his brow furrowing. “But the thing is…she looks at my phone sometimes. So I just didn’t want to risk it, alright?”

You look away as he starts to dry your hair with the towel. “I wish things were different. I wish you could change.”

“That’s not fair, baby.” He says, his voice holding a hint of warning. He’s annoyed with you again, but he tries not to lash out this time, especially when taking into account how much he missed you. “You act like I don’t want things to be different.” He runs the towel over your head, gently squeezing your hair to wring out the excess water. “Do you even have enough respect to see me try?”

Your breath hitches. You watch him as he finishes with your hair, wrapping the towel around your chest.

“I love you, Rafe.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you realise you even said them. “Of course I have respect for you. Of course I want you to try.”

Rafe pauses, his shoulders relaxing as his expression softens. He smiles at you, his eyes looking into yours. He grabs your hips, his thumbs rubbing along the soft skin there. He sighs, closing his eyes. “Then don’t act like I’m evil when I do try.” His voice is quiet, soft. “I mean it. Stop acting like I’m a complete ass to you, sweetheart, because I have been fucking trying.”

He didn’t say he loved you. You don’t care how crazy and clingy you sound at this point, you have to know. “Do you love me too?”

Rafe opens his eyes, his expression growing serious all of a sudden. He pauses for a moment, searching the gaze of your eyes. His hands on your hips move to your lower back, wrapping around you and pulling you close against his chest. His chest is warm against your bare breasts, his body firm and strong. “Baby, that’s a stupid question.”

“You didn’t answer it.” At least just lie and say yes. Please just say that you love me more.

He sighs, his grip on you growing tighter. One of his hands moves up to the back of your neck, holding you in place. He lifts your chin up with a single finger, looking into your eyes. “Loves never meant much to me, sweetheart. I mean… Ward told me that he loved me, and you know exactly what he did.” Rafe brushes his thumb across your cheek. “But…yes, I do love you. You’re the only one I truly love.”

“Promise?” You ask, your voice quiet.

Rafe holds that strong eye contact for a few more seconds before his face softens more, his gaze softening in his eyes. “I promise, sweetheart. I swear on my life. I don’t love anyone else as much as I love you.” His other hand runs up and down your sides, fingers spreading across your skin.

“Not even Sofia?” You ask.

“Especially not her.” He says, pulling you even closer against his chest. He’s growing agitated again. “I told you this before. Everything with her is fake, completely fake. I’m with her for appearances. All she is, is a pretty face.”

You want to believe him, so you do. You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Rafe sighs, relieved that you seem to finally understand. He rubs your back, one hand wrapping around your neck to keep you held against him. He kisses the top of your head, resting his chin on top like before. “Don’t ask me that question again, sweetheart.” He says, his voice gentle, yet stern. “You know I only love you, there’s no need for you to ask such dumb questions.”

You nod. “Can you stay tonight?”

He sighs, nodding. “Yeah. I can stay tonight.” He takes your chin in his hand again, tilting your face up to look at him. “Can you promise me something, though?”

You take a deep breath. “Anything.”

His brow furrows again, his thumb rubbing along your jawline. “Don’t ever doubt my love for you, alright? I can’t deal with that self-loathing bullshit you pull sometimes, sweetheart, you got that?”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly. You weren’t expecting that. But at this point, you’re so desperate to lay down with him that you’ll do anything he wants. “I promise, Rafe.”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. “Good girl.” He says, his voice gentler. “Now, let’s get you into bed, hm?” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to bed. He lays down next to you, tucking you in before handing you his phone. “Pick out what new phone you want.” When you look confused, he sighs. “I told you I would buy you a new one because you destroyed yours.”

Oh, yeah. This has been the longest two days of your entire life, and you weren’t even sure if any of that actually happened.

Rafe unlocks his phone before handing it to you, picking something to watch from the small TV on your dresser. You scroll through his pages of unorganised apps, before finally finding Google, typing in the newest iPhone model. You buy yourself a new phone in your favourite colour, all on Rafe’s dime. You’re tempted to text Sofia pretending to be Rafe and tell her it’s over, and to leave you alone, but you don’t. Rafe loved you, and Rafe wanted you. He could dump her himself.

You lock his phone, handing it back to him. He sets it on your bedside table, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

If it’s meant to be, then it will be.

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let me know what you think my lovelies!

part 3 is here!

★taglist: @ietss, @loves0phelia, @drewsphswife, @pillowprincess4him, @maybankslover, @theeternaloptimistt, @jumpme300, @xcinnamonmalfoyx, @matthewswifeeee. reply to this post if you would like to be tagged! italics mean i couldn't tag you! x

#keikiwrites #f!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron #obx angst #rafe obx #obx fic #obx #rafe cameron angst #angst

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sheisjoeschateau · 10 months ago

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART I

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU. HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU... BUT WILL HE?

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.

An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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I did not proof-read this after Tumblr gave me hell trying to share. So pls excuse possible typos. hehe

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Let's just get to the point, shall we?

Once upon a time, a young boy named Will Byers went missing. Later, he was found in an alternate dimension by the world's #1 mom and a cynical cop turned hero. A girl with a shaved head had telekinetic superpowers, befriend's Will's four loyal friends along the way and helping them track down their missing party member. Then, whatever the hell was on the other side - whatever was in this...upside down...took back Eleven. She'd been missing ever since that dreadful winter.

Fast forward to now: you're sitting in your uncle's bunker, looking at his wild display of efforts. Papers, files, whiteboards covered in multiple words, arrows, sketches - all in different colored markers. Murray Bauman was on a mission, and he would be damned if that grumpy, cynical smart-ass known as Jim Hopper honestly thought that he could dismantle his efforts. Nice try, chum. Game on. Thankfully, you'd gone to school with Barbara Holland. That's whose parents had assigned the task of searching for her to your uncle. Murray was asking you tons of questions, and you were glad to help. It meant spending time with the only family member you cared for, despite his wackiness. You guys got each other. Bantered well. Got shit done. Honestly, it was also a great way of drinking safely and not with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at some stupid party. You got along just fine with everyone at school. But damn, they could all be annoying. ...especially Steve fucking Harrington, who was now the topic of conversation. You know, given that his house is where Barbara was last seen. "It just isn't making sense," your uncle huffed, raking his hands through his oily dark hair. You sipped on the glass of vodka that your uncle had poured you, hissing at the strong taste. Leaning across the coffee table, seated on his couch, you tried to connect the dots with him. "I'm telling you, someone in that group of teens knows what's up. Or at least has an idea." Your uncle swigged at his vodka, defeated but ruthlessly trying to piece together his clusterfuck of scattered evidence across his wall. "Well then, guess we better grill 'em."

And that's how you come into the picture. When Nancy and Jonathan came to seek out Murray. And when they arrive, they're surprised to see you. They recognize you from school. Jonathan took several classes with you. In fact, the two of you got along well at Hawkins High. No, you weren't close. But you both were cool. Nancy, on the other hand, didn't know anything about you. Just that you took political science with Barbara, and got straight A's across the board. You could've been class valedictorian. But you were not looking for any sort of title that demanded pressure or attention. At least not in high school. Career wise? Sure. Not here, though. Not Hawkins. "Your timeline is wrong," Nancy is saying, making you and Bauman freeze. Nancy is telling you that the girl with the buzzed hair is not Russian. She is, in fact, from Hawkins lab. And her name is...Eleven? So they do know something. And something turns out to be everything.

Jonathan sits you both down to relay everything to you both. And woof, does it give you guys a headache. Strangely, though... it makes a whole lot more sense than some mundane explanation of sorts. Obviously though, that puts you all in a tough spot where you'll all need to put your heads together. So the two classmates of yours stay, sharing in chilled Smirnoff and having to endure the hilarity that ensues between you and your uncle. You and Murray both banter well with the two of them. Jonathan finds you to be hilarious. Nancy finds you intimidating. Very intimidating. You’re quick witted, darkly humored and independent. But there is a reserved, mysterious sort of feminine energy to you, despite your more masculine strengths and bluntness. Over glasses of stiff vodka, you all come to the conclusion on how to go about exposing the truth about Barbara Holland's disappearance: water it down.

At the end of the night, you're all winding down -- you and your uncle having convinced the two lovebirds to stay. But when you're telling them they can take your uncle's guest room while you take the couch, Jonathan's asking if he can take the couch. You blink. Huh? ...surely Nancy is not still with --

"Okay, I'm confused," your uncle's saying. "What's going on here? Lovers quarrel?"

You cock an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat.

But Jonathan and Nancy are then talking over each other with weird, flustered excuses...saying they're just friends.

You and your uncle bust out laughing. And then you're shrinking back in your seat, knowing what's coming: one of your Uncle Murray's lovebird witchdoctor speeches that he barrels into anytime that two delusional people have convinced themselves that they aren't in love. Or at the very least, not into each other.

Uncle Murray is breaking them down, one at a time. He's reading Jonathan like an angsty teen novel, seeing right through him and his brooding, mysterious energy. Trust issues, thanks to daddy issues. Yikes, that makes you sip some more drink.

And then he's onto Nancy, saying that she's harder to read. But he manages anyway. It's the Bauman way.

He's telling her that she's likely like everyone else, "afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for you who you really are." He looks at you. "Am I in the right ballpark?"

You nod, swallowing the last drop of vodka in your cup. "That...and afraid of that might happen if she didn't retreat back to the safety of someone familiar."

Nancy looks bewildered. But more than that, she looks caught.

"Name?" your uncle is prodding, snapping his fingers. "Name."

You and Jonathan both say it. "Steve."

Uncle Murray's face is priceless. He feigns adoration, putting on a baby voice as he repeats the name. "Dawh. Steve. We like Steve."

"Yes," Nancy laughs nervously. Eek, you think.

"But we don't love Steve..." Your uncle's words floor Nancy.

And when Nancy's saying something about still being with Steve, insisting that she loves him, you roll your eyes. Even scoffing, getting her attention. Maybe if the vodka weren't in your system, you wouldn't be so bold. But Jonathan's mopey look just gives you more confidence.

"Boom, ladies and gents," you say with a grin. "Second lie of the evening." "The hell was the first one?" Jonathan asks, blinking. "You guys being just friends." You and your uncle say something along the same lines, simultaneously. You both laugh together, clinking glasses. The two not lovebirds just squirm awkwardly in their seats. Finally, you sigh. "Look. You guys don't wanna give up the ghost? Be my guest. I'll happily keep my bed." You stand up, ready to turn in. But not until casting them one last work, pointing a finger. "But if I were you two? I'd cut the bullshit and just share the damn bed." Murray snorts, rising to stand as well. He stretches. "Welllllp. I'm turning in for the night." You begin mounting the stairs, hollering: "Better act fast, kiddos. At least before this poison in my system knocks me out cold. Don't worry, Nancy, I don't snore. So if you do choose me, you're safe." "But that's so lame," Murray adds to that wryly, heading off to his room. You both tell each other goodnight, leaving the two angsty teens to decide their fate. All you know is that Nancy ends up walking out and not coming back, at one point in the night. Yeah, thought so. Breakfast the next morning is even more hilarious. You and your uncle ask every single question that drips with innuendo that you ever possibly could. And it's worth every fucking minute.

Murray's gonna need to keep that couch cleaned. To your surprise, Murray sends you off with Nancy and Jonathan, but given that you want to go and see it all for yourself you don't mind. You’re basically his little spy. Most uncles send off their nieces and nephews with some good advice, maybe a packed lunchbox or snacks, and a warm hug.

Yours, however, sends you off with a full bottle of vodka, a thick wad of cash and some fun sarcastic banter. But he headlocks you in for a hug, and you cackle. He really is a nutcase, and man you can't help but love him. He is so not the parental type. Yet somehow, he's practically raised you. And in your opinion, you're pretty well-prepared for the world. More than most, in Murray's opinion. So off you go with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Buyers, and they both honestly enjoy your company. It helps them get past their umm...well...awkward new reality. That new reality that comes post-sex, after a long ass time of playing the tip-toe game. The sexual tension between them is hysterical to you. But you keep your thoughts to yourself for now. The vodka did most of the talking for you last night.

When you both arrive at wherever the hell your destination is, it's dark outside. And if you're being honest, it's pretty creepy. You're somewhere near the woods, and as you all walk closer you're beginning to see lights approaching you...along with a handful of shadowed figures.

Fuck, you literally just got here.

But then, after a tense several moments... Nancy and Jonathan call out to them. You jump, startled at the fact that they do it so confidently. But the name that they call out suddenly makes it all make sense. "STEVE?" "NANCY...?" And that's how you became a crucial part of the most royal pain in the ass, King Steve's, life.

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington smut

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kandyzee · 4 months ago

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I've talked about this before but I'm going to again.

Mickey is clean.

For years of his life, he most likely had no real control over the cleanliness of his home or himself. He didn't grow up with hot water always available. Toiletries came second to buying food. Any attempt at cleaning was useless, with his house constantly being messed up by his dad or countless other relatives. Not to mention that even if they had everything they needed to be hygienic, having a dirty face is a good way to hide a black eye.

Things get better as he gets older. He has more money for himself and he can pay the water bill. Terry's in prison, so the milkovich house feels a little more homely. Around s4, we see that mickey starts to take care of himself. He uses fancy ass soap and even styles his hair. I can't remember anyone else washing their hands after going to the toilet. We KNOW mickey doesn't want to be dirty.

The idea that mickey is still dirty after canon is so infuriating to me when he was only ever that because he was forced. Sure, he might be messy but not unclean.

Post s11 mickey leaves his shoes laying unorganised by the door, but his hands are always washed. There's a jacket thrown over the sofa, but there isn't ash or dust on the coffee table. He leaves a cup or glass on the counter by mistake, but the dishes never pile up. Post s11 mickey finally has control of how he looks, how he lives, and he's going to make the most of it.

Instead of thinking that mickey stays dirty, I think people should consider him a clean freak. This is a man who has spent yrs of his life in prison. He's used to routine cleaning. He freaks out when his ash tray gets too full cause it reminds him of his childhood home. He lights vanilla scented candles cause, like hell, will he live in a place that smells like cheap beer ever again.

#shameless us #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #shameless #gallavich #post canon #mickey shameless

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an0nymousmessenger · 3 months ago

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When the Sun Rises Again

Five Hargreeves x Reader Synopsis: In which you see a familiar boy with a mannequin at a park after saving the world. Word Count: 2.7k tags. Fluff, Comfort, s4 epilogue continued, more than friends less than lovers A/n: A little continuation of the epilogue of when you see Delores in the end credits with an unidentified person ao3 link

On August 8, 2024, nothing out of the ordinary occurred. It would be no exaggeration to say that this day was completely normal. The sun was shining, and the weather was the best it had been in a long time.

The wind blew gently, rustling the nearby trees and bushes in this small sanctuary.

It was a nice afternoon in August, perfect for people enjoying their outings at a small, lesser-known park. Picnics dotted the grassy areas, and people strolled together, enjoying each other's company.

Laughter filled the air as children chased each other in a harmless game of tag. A couple walked their dog, deep in conversation. Nearby, a man led a meditation session among a group, while a woman sat with her daughter, braiding her hair.

The moment seemed fragile and almost unreal, at least to the eyes of the newcomer. It was a tranquility you weren’t quite used to, and you found yourself struggling to take it all in. Still, you continued forward, focused on one main objective.

You passed the meditating group, the mother and daughter, and many other familiar faces you didn't dare acknowledge. Everything seemed to slow, as if memories from a past time were beginning to overlap.

In the midst of all this, by a rather old but beautiful tree, a few gentle marigolds grew from within the ground, sprouting out enchantingly, showing off their petals to the world. They shined golden, and perhaps with a little magic too.

You took your hands in the pockets of your light jacket as you walked casually with your new sneakers through the grass.

Eventually, you stopped in your tracks, and stared at a specific pair, glowing in the summer’s light. You hesitated, your breath caught up in your throat as some unfamiliar feeling began to bubble in your chest, threatening to overspill.

You wondered if it would be okay to disturb them, questioning whether you should just stay still and take in the scene a little longer. Just for a while. After all, time was on your side this time.

You squinted, fighting against the bright summer glare.

You looked onward, afraid that if you closed your eyes even for a second, the scene in front of you would disappear—that the feeling of the wind and sun had been just your imagination. That the boy sitting there with a gentle expression, one you’d only seen a few times in your life, would vanish with the wind. Fleeting, and brief.

As if he were never there.

A sweet but deceiving dream.

Even if it were a dream, you would be satisfied because, to you, everything was fine. Everything was as it should be.

But alas, the tangy summer scent was real, and the reality you were currently walking through was undeniably real.

So incredibly real.

It was terrifying.

The sun’s warmth shone generously on the pair—a boy who seemed to be in his teens, accompanied by a rather unique mannequin that only had its upper body. They sat at a plain table, enjoying each other’s company.

The boy held a newspaper in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other. Another cup sat by an empty seat, while the mannequin rested by a nearby tree.

At first glance, it almost seemed as if the two were having a pleasant conversation. The boy looked relieved, his shoulders relaxed, legs crossed in comfort as his dark eyes browsed the weekly news.

It seemed as if he had no worries on his mind, no stress or problems weighing on him. Although his eyes still carried that tired look. It was a look not commonly found in the kids his age. Some would even go on to suggest his eyes give off the feeling the boy was much older than he let on.

But even if that were true, they had nothing to prove such a statement.

You took in this sight with a little sigh, a mental click, as if forcing yourself to capture this moment and lock it away in your heart, hiding it carefully from the world before anything else tried to take it away.

Just in case.

Just for safe measure.

You looked around again before making your way toward the empty seat opposite the newspaper-reading boy. He wore a plain white collared shirt, the top buttons undone, paired with simple dark shorts, giving him a youthful yet old-fashioned look.

As you approached, the boy noticed you and looked up, raising a questioning brow, which greatly amused you.

You gave a small smile before asking in a rather level voice, “Is anyone sitting here?”

“Well, it’s not exactly occupied, now is it?”

A familiar tone of dryness, tinted with a grain of sarcasm, dripped from the boy’s reply.

Your smile grew as you pulled your hands out of your pockets and gestured toward the seat. “Then do you mind?”

The boy, usually armed with harsh and sharp remarks, shook his head.

You sat down and picked up the cup, noticing that it contained your favorite drink, as if the boy in front of you knew something you didn’t. As if he had almost expected you to come and find him.

You brought the cup to your mouth, took a sip, then another, before gingerly setting it down back upon the table, a warm feeling spreading in your chest. Then, you took another look around.

This time, your attention was mainly on the boy in front of you, who seemed a little out of place in such a peaceful setting. The wind gently tousled his hair and rustled his shirt, causing him to clutch the newspaper a little tighter, pretending to be uninterested.

You decided to also pretend you didn’t notice his occasional glances toward you. You pretended you didn’t notice the searching look in his eyes, a habit he tended to have when he hadn’t seen you in a while. A habit of his that you would keep to yourself, hidden away from the dangers of the world.

“It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”

The boy sighed, looking away while taking a sip of his black coffee. “If you say so.”

You leaned against the table, one arm supporting one side of your face as you put on what he dubbed your ‘shit-eating grin’. “Why don’t you play with the kids over there? You know, kids your age.”

With a sharp, unamused glare, he responded, "I'd rather chew on concrete," his voice flat and unamused.

You huffed in your seat. “Somehow, even on such a nice day, you still manage to make it old and boring.”

"Maybe if you raised your standards, you’d actually appreciate reading the newspaper and having a simple drink while at it. But I won’t hold my breath."

“Prick.”

“Amateur.”

You sat up, narrowing your eyes. “Hey, says the one who looks like a–”

“One more word and I’ll have you up in that tree over there.”

“...”

You smirked, leaning in. “As if you could stand being apart from my charming company.”

He rolled his eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Aren’t we full of ourselves today?”

“What? Can’t I enjoy myself on such a lovely morning?”

He scoffed, glancing away from your teasing expression, and mumbled under his breath, “I suppose some people have to.”

You look at the boy, the way he was looking away from you as the tips of his ears turn a slight red. You twirl the cup in your hands that contains your preferred drink, the one you usually order when out and about, and can’t help but think to yourself:

What a liar.

Though, you guess you’ll cut the boy some slack, he after all has worked quite hard for way too many years to count. You’ll let him have this one, just this one.

And so, instead of teasing him anymore, you rest your hand on your elbows and stare at the scenery of the park, soaking in his presence and the fact that he is finally here with you.

He was here safe and sound.

Ah. You suppose you were both liars.

“You're doing it again,” spoke the boy out of the blue.

You turned towards him with a cheeky smile, “What exactly am I doing?”

“That ridiculous face.”

You rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue, “Bleh,”

He gave you a disgusted look as if he couldn’t believe you’d done something so childish, but you couldn’t care less. After everything you’d both been through, you deserved to indulge in such small matters.

Certainly, it was not the end of the world, was it?

He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before muttering, “I can’t believe I somehow have to put up with you…”

And yet, he made no attempt to move. Instead, he seemed to settle even more comfortably into his park chair.

You paused for a moment, taking in his ‘I’m seriously done with you’ expression before adding, “Yeah, and I’m a grumpy teenager who’s emotionally constipated in apparently every timeline.”

The boy shot you an unamused glare. “I'm not.”

"Yeah, you are."

"Idiot."

His retort was lacking in bite, something you’d come to recognize as his way of showing that he couldn’t find anything harsher to say.

“Fine! Then ask her,” you said, pointing at the mannequin beside him.

The boy let out an exasperated sigh, clearly used to your antics, before turning toward the object of your pointing.

“Delores doesn’t think so.”

"Oh yeah? Is that what she really said?"

He put on a sly grin. "Why don't you ask her yourself and find out?"

You turned toward the mannequin, playing along. "Has he been mistreating you while I've been away?"

He took a sharp breath, his voice dripping with mock indignation. "How dare you insinuate such an outrageous—"

“Oh, you’ll live,” you muttered as you took another sip from the cup.

“Prick.”

“Ass.”

“Annoying.”

“...”

You and he shared a small staring contest before you broke into a fit of laughter. The childish insults hadn’t been lost on either of you despite the years. Even with his usual sharp and witty remarks, it seemed that your banter had devolved into a playful exchange, bringing you both back to simpler times.

He looked at you with an exasperated expression, but couldn’t hide the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards.

But of course, you were unable to see this, too caught up in your own little laugh. This also caused you to miss the way he had briefly looked at you, as if he too were saving this moment in his mind, causing his usually sharp persona to soften, if only slightly. He’d never admit it, not in a hundred years.

The laughter died down, and you noticed the silence that settled over you. You looked up at the boy, finding him already looking at you. A comfortable silence enveloped the three of you, including the mannequin, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft smile.

And he looked at your smile, one that he would never tell you that it made him want to look away as a burning feeling crept up his ears. He’ll never tell you he noticed the light in your eyes as you did so, the way your eyes looked at him made him feel some sort of way. He’ll never tell you it was that smile, along with everything else, that had him crawling through time to get back to you, to see it again.

To see you and his family again, alive and well.

He’ll never tell you that he missed that smile, and he often wondered when he would see it again. He would never tell you that he had gone to your favorite coffee shop and bought two drinks instead of one, he’ll never tell you he had been sitting here all morning, waiting.

Instead, you two simply shared the silence in the distance.

Perhaps at another time, you would do something about this silence, you would reach out, and touch upon all the things you two were too afraid to say.

Perhaps one day, this silence would allow the two of you to be vulnerable without hesitation and caution. And perhaps one day, you’ll be able to reach over to take and take his hand in yours, to invite him to dance with you in the late of night or rain. You’ll both wear a smile, perhaps a tired smile, but a smile nonetheless, and you’ll both be listening to the best 90s bangers of the ages on an old record player.

But at least for today, the two of you will take your time.

Because today, you’d enjoy each other’s presence and the trivial banter. After all, you had all the time in the world.

It had been a while since you last bickered with the boy, much less joked and laughed. It was nice.

Really nice.

Was it sad to say that this was all you ever wanted? To sit down, share a drink, and talk about useless and stupid things? That you wouldn’t trade this for the world, that you would fight to keep this moment in your hands.

The boy looked back at you before straightening his newspaper, effectively regaining your attention.

“Stop zoning out.”

“My bad.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something along the lines of how he didn’t go through all that shit just for you to start staring into space and feeling sad or whatnot.

Your foot brushed against his for a brief moment. At first, you meant to pull it back, but instead, you left it there to gauge his reaction. He didn’t move his foot away, and you couldn’t tell if he was ignoring it or deliberately letting it stay there.

You stare at him, silently, before a question tumbles its way from your mind and to your lips, “Are you happy?”

The question lingered in the air between the two of you, like an untouched subject that none of you had dared to ask in the past. It was out of reach back then, and there had been much more pressing things to be worrying about.

And maybe, just maybe, that between you and him, one of these days you can truly rest. It’ll be a day just like today, and the distance between the two of you will be like a distant memory, and you can once again lean on him, as you had always done, and he can melt into you, as he had once done before.

The boy looked away from you and into the distance, observing the lively park as the sun enveloped him in the warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Nothing was out of the ordinary—if you didn’t count the teenage-looking boy drinking coffee with his mannequin and the newspaper he was reading in the middle of a park.

He looked down and smiled, the sun gently caressing his features as a genuine smile graced his face, but of course, it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t try to hide it as he answered in a soft uncharacteristic voice, “Yeah…yeah I am.”

You looked at him, seeing the way he was trying to hide his emotions, and rolled your eyes. It seemed no matter the time or place, he was still the same, and for that, you couldn’t have asked for more.

Perhaps, in a way, this meant the future was bright. That a time would come when this tranquility, so unfamiliar now, would become all you know. Even if today was just the beginning.

You took another sip from the cup and smiled.

“I’m glad.”

Extra.

"Hey, you should tell me where you got these drinks."

"What now?"

He rolled his eyes, feigning uninterest.

"Seriously! I know you bought these for me."

He continued flipping through the pages of the newspapers.

"Oh, did I? And what if I said they’re for Delores?"

You held up the drink.

"Delores prefers lattes, not this."

"Does she? How fascinating."

"Prick!"

He set the newspaper aside and gave you an amused look.

“Fine. I’ll take you there next time. Happy now?”

You don’t point out that this was his way of admitting he did buy the drinks with you in mind, but you’re too content to press the issue. You decided to let him off the hook... again.

#five hargreeves #number five #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves x you #umbrella acedmy #number five x reader #number five x you #tua #tua five #tua season 4 #fluff #epilogue #comfort #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #healing from that ending

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still-a-morosexual-help · 7 months ago

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Post S3 Obey Me, where MC doesn't have a job after the brothers leave and go back to the Devildom so they start working at The Angel's Halo.

While Luke is around as well, he usually spends equal time in the Celestial Realm training. Though as far as he's concerned, he's still on a mission in the human world with Simeon, but because he's a young unranked angel he needs to go back to the Celestial Realm to train, unlike Simeon

MC helps Simeon set up everything to open up in the mornings.

Solomon drops by before the café opens and the three of them usually have a small breakfast together.

Solomon & MC then head out to train and after a few hours MC comes back for their shift at the café.

Since Simeon has just been turned human and only Solomon, Barbatos, Diavolo & Lucifer know, Lucifer wants to keep an eye on him/check on his progress but knows Simeon will give him "a look" if he kept stopping by. So, every once in a while, he sends one of his brothers over so they can "spend a weekend with MC," and when they come back, he asks how Simeon is doing as well. And since Lucifer has known Simeon the longest and has always cared about and worried over him none of them question this (except for Mammon who, in S4 we learn, has been suspicious about Simeon's presence in the human world since S3)

Anyway, it's summer. It's breakfast at the café on a Friday morning, and both Simeon and MC are in loose, light clothes. Solomon, when he turns up, is in his usual black turtle neck.

Simeon & MC both immediately assure him that he doesn't always have to cover up. That they're all friends here and they have been so for years and in such oppressive heat he could opt for something less likely to boil him alive

He smiles sweetly and thanks them and says he'll consider it for next time

On Monday, things are back to normal as usual. MC & Simeon are at the round table in the break room. Solomon walks in, heading towards the coffee pot, in a short sleeved crew neck t-shirt, whistling happily to himself, and Simeon & MC are just sitting there looking at him like

Solomon: Good Morning☺️

Simeon: ...

MC: DID YOU GET MAULED BY A BEAR?!

((the weekend was Asmo's turn for a visit, and consequently, Solomon's neck now looks like someone tried to gnaw a chunk out of it))

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nonsensical-pixels · 1 year ago

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after over 12 hours of stressing over slots, i am finally done with my conversion of @saudade-sims4's portland living! this set was their birthday present for deelitefulsimmer in 2016 and was requested for the sims 2 by anonymous 💘 this is not the whole set. i only converted about 14 items, because there were a) too many swatches and b) too many slots to add. i do believe that this is my first set ever to feature added/edited slots though, so i'm quite pleased with that!

a readme and collection file are both included, and you can check below the cut for the relevant info 😊 this set is much larger than my usual ones (because there are hundreds of recolors and no items are repo'd) so feel free to go through and delete the packages you don't want!

DOWNLOAD: SFS | MF (55.4mb!)

credits go to @saudade-sims4 for the original s4 meshes & textures, and to @hugelunatic and @pforestsims for their slot tutorials (1, 2) that i used to add slots where i needed them 🌈

Things to Note

everything in this section is taken directly from the readme.txt

I left out quite a few swatches, particularly the wood ones. There were 60+ PER ITEM, I just couldn't do it. The TV table acts sort of like a regular coffee table? You'll neeed the Shiftable Everything or Shiftable TVs mod to put an actual TV on it. The fireplace is, sadly, purely decorative.

Items Included

Artwork Circle -> 316 polys, 12 swatches Artwork Horizontal Ovals -> 388 polys, 12 swatches Artwork Horizontal Rectangles -> 28 polys, 12 swatches Artwork Ovals -> 388 polys, 14 swatches Artwork Rectangles -> 28 polys, 12 swatches Artwork Squares -> 28 polys, 12 swatches Chair -> 1478 polys, 40 swatches Coffee Table -> 1946 polys, 27 swatches Couch -> 1588 polys, 40 swatches Endtable -> 536 polys, 27 swatches Fireplace -> 1335 polys, 28 swatches Loveseat -> 1534 polys, 40 swatches Plant Stand -> 1372 polys, 28 swatches TV Table -> 2258 polys, 28 swatches

if there are any issues that you find with this set, please don't be afraid to let me know! happy simming, and when you download this, do keep in mind,

( @4t2ccdatabase )

#sims 2 download #the sims 2 cc #ts2cc #s2cc #sims 2 cc #the sims 2 #sims 2 #4t2 #4t2 conversion #4t2 buy #requests #sims 2 requests

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simmillercc · 1 year ago

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SIMS 4 - COFFEE TABLE SQUARED, IN HALF, AND SQUARE ROOT END TABLE - LAUNDRY DAY

*Finally available on CurseForge!! Sorry it took me so long.*

I took the large square coffee table from Laundry Day and made some recolours. Then I made it smaller by half for the In Half version, and then made it smaller by half again for the Square Root end table.

All 3 tables come in 17 matching colours, and are very versatile.

Coffee Table Squared - Original recoloured

COST: 200 Simoleons

Coffee Table In Half - Altered mesh

COST: 150 Simoleons

POLYGONS: LOD0-496 LOD1-352 LOD2-214

End Table Square Root - Altered mesh

COST: 75 Simoleons

POLYGONS: LOD0-450 LOD1-306 LOD2-174

STYLE TAGS: Basics, Boho, Contemporary, Farmhouse, Island, Shabby, Suburban Contemporary, Vintage

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nostylesimsstudio · 2 years ago

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☕ NÄYNAY COFFEETABLE ☕

1 tagged swatches in maxis match wood

all lods, fairly low-poly

custom normal, shadow maps

custom thumbnail overlay

thank you so much for following me and dropping by my patreon. hope you will enjoy this set :)

Download: Patreon

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echantedtoon · 3 months ago

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A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch6 Date Weekend: Saturday

(Warning for some nudity mentioned in the boys part but absolutely nothing rude or nsfw!! Also it's cannon Hinatsuru and Makio can cook like really good in Kimetsu Gauken and Mitsuri.knows ballet from what we saw in s4 with flexibility training. My own headcannons are being slapped into here! AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME!)

Taglist: @shadyd3ar @jcrml @tengensangel

@miniverse-zen

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

The colorful assortment of delightful sweets filled the eyes with childlike wonder. Cream and icing. Glaze and powdered sugar. Milky chocolate and sweet vanilla. All of which melted in the mouth and shook the senses with sweet dreams of sugary delight.

In in Mitsuri's case starting to stock up on food.

You sat down at the table with the other girls after the fun game of push ups. Taking your time to look around at the big but nice looking kitchen. Kyojuro must've had a good paying job if he could afford this. The nicely furnished space had pretty much a top of the line appliance set up complete with a nicely polished giant cherry wood table. Of which was stuffed to the brim with food. Three boxes of extra large pizzas took up the far left right corner, next to it was a box of hot wings, and a few six packs of different sodas and what was left of the canned coffee after Sanemi ravished through Obinai's gift. Two pink boxes filled up with day old sweets like donuts and mini cakes, what was left of the ohagi you made, and a few burgers Giyuu picked up. And a small pot of something you couldn't make out but it smelt like beef broth. Maybe a beef soup or hot pot?

It certainly was a lot of food but considering how many people there and how big Gyomei and Tengen were.

"Let me get you some food," Hinatsuru offered gesturing to the boxes of pizza stacked on the table. "We have pizza, burgers, cake- What would you like?"

A hand held up to her. "Oh no. It's ok. I can get it myself."

"Nonsense. You're our guest so I'll get it for you."

"Well alright then. Some pizza please."

"Sure! Pepperoni, sausage and mushroom, or meatlovers?" Hinatsuru was already shuffling towards the boxes Mitsuri was already rummaging through.

"Pepperoni is fine. Thank you!'

You only smiled politely as the others say down or most of them grabbed ahold of whatever food was available for them, but you noticed only one of them had a tray instead of a plate. Mitsuri had taken out a large tray, the kind you'd use to carry breakfast in bed to someone, and just started piling on food after food item onto it. There must've been at least two or three slices of every kind of pizza they had, three small cakes you could make out including a fourth one just added to it, a few burgers peeking out from just under the pizza, and right now her main target was the pot.

The smells of beef filled the air with a snack of her lips looking inside excitedly. Producing a bowl from no where she proceeded to just scoop out boiled eggs, mushrooms, chunks of beef- Oh. So someone did bring a hot pot. But she wasn't done yet. She practically pulled two bottles of the soda to herself as a can of coffee got caught up also in her grasp and your poor ohagi was her next victims. Three ending up on top of their fallen pizza brethren. She plopped down right across from you as you continued to stare wide eyed. You didn't even notice Hinatsuru placing down a plate and cup of more soda in front of you.

"Here you go!" She smiled at you but slowly blinked noticing your wide eyed surprised look. "Miss Y/n?" Her face followed your direction and froze as she and everyone else saw the massive pile of food Mitsuri had in front of her and the fact that she was already shoveling a whole mini strawberry shortcake into her mouth. "M-Mitsuri!"

"Hm?"

She happily looked up at the half horrified half worried faces around her, cheeks puffed up like a chipmunks. Huh? What was with those looks? She made sure not to take everything this time. It was only when green orbs caught the state of the girl in front of her. It was then that the before mentioned talk about everyone being on their best behavior and ensuring that they made a good first impression for Gyomei punched her brain in the memory bank. She sat there quietly and wide eyed, cheeks puffed up, and some strawberry syrup on her chin. Somewhere to the far right Makio groaned and facepalmed loud enough to a smack sound to be heard.

You blinked and that motion seemed to spur Mitsuri's panic as she quickly swallowed and held up her hands. "Um- Uh- ...HEY! No one touch this food!" She nervously laughed before pushing the tray away from her nervously smiling self to the middle of the table, a few boxes getting pushed aside as she did so. "Y-You know that I-..Uh! I-I always make sure there's a nice healthy serving out aside for the guys! Haha! Hmm!" She tapped her chin in thought glaring at the stacked up tray in pretend scrutiny. "Yep! Th-This will definitely be enough for all of them! Haha!"

She froze as a couple hot wings wobbled and fell lower on the pile of food she had created. Someone mumbled a 'nice save' somewhere as your eyes slowly looked away from her and down at the pile of food in front of everyone... before your face scrunched up into a funny looking face before you opened your mouth and-..

Started to laugh??

A series of giggles enveloped from her mouth and a hand reached out to cover those giggles to no avail as everyone stared at her.

"....Ok. Did we already break her or is she making fun of us?"

Your head shook as a hand waved. "N-No. It's just that-..Well, It's nice you're all going through all this effort to make me comfortable but Gyomei's already mentioned about this." To her surprise the tray was slid back over in front of Mitsuri who looked widely at you. "As I said before I want you all to be yourselves around me since I genuinely want to meet Gyomei's friends, so please don't hesitate to eat."

Mitsuri stared stunned by your smile, looking you up and down.... before just smiling back to her food and a second later she literally bit a burger clean in half as she hummed contently. Her happy face and bloated cheeks made more giggles escape her mouth.

"That's quite the appetite you have there," you pointed out without being rude, "Do you like sweet, savoury, or spicy things better?"

She swallowed what was left of her first burger quickly before answering. "SWEETS! But I don't mind others things either! Bitter and sour things are good too if you make them right!" As if to hammer home her point, she practically devoured an entire hot sauce covered chicken leg minus the bone. The hotness didn't even seem to bother her because a slice of blueberry cheesecake was next. "Shoo yummy!~" She gushed between snacking.

Despite it you still smiled at her completely unfazed. Her eating was fast and not normal by any normal person's standards but unlike Jake's she wasn't rude about it at all. She wasn't chewing loudly or open mouthed, she didn't try to hog everything, and she DEFINITELY wasn't trying to get anyone's else's foods or getting food anywhere. ..Well except for the traces of said food on her mouth which you handed over a couple napkins she thanked you for. The others seemed completely unfazed by her appetite so this was probably a usual occurrence for them.

"So you aren't like grossed out or anything by..?" Makio gestured towards the pink haired girl like it was obvious.

"Not really. Why would I be?" You shrugged before picking up a piece of your own pizza. "She's not being rude about it so why should I care? Although I am a bit surprised at how much she eats. When Gyomei told she she had a big appetite I wasn't expecting it to be so literally. Not that it's a bad thing of course!"

Surprised looks land silence was what everyone gave you minus Mitsuri still eating the quickly shrinking pile of food. Eventually Shinobu broke the silence with her brows raised high.

"Holy shit...Gyomei found a dam unicorn!"

"Shinobu!"

"He did.' shinobu rolled her eyes at her sister's scowl. "She said to be ourselves around her right? How is she supposed to know us if we aren't?'

"But the cussing? Really? First Nemi and now you."

"I really don't mind," you smiled at her. "I'm not offended at all. Really."

Kanae blinked but frowned at Shinobu's wide smile.

"Subject change!" The blue eyed girl, Suma if you remembered right, shot up a hand and waved around her full arm. "This entire thing was to get to know her better! So let's do that instead!"

"Good idea, Suma!" She quickly changed the entire subject probably to avoid any awkwardness. "So. Y/n, how did you meet Gyomei? He told us briefly but I don't think he explained the entire thing."

You paused a moment staring off into nothing. You smile had turned to a thin line and you turned to her so slowly that she thought she might've said something to offend you. "....Have you ever had a really bad date?"

Her pink eyes blinked. "I-...Well, it did rain once when I was on a double date with Kyo and Makio. We didn't get to do anything we planned."

"Oh. Well trust me. You haven't heard nothing yet. Let me tell you EXACTLY how I met the most kindest man of my life...after meeting the worst most vile human. It all started when this rat's parents paid my Auntie to set him up on a date. She's a REALLY good matchmaker you know and that's why they paid her and she needed the extra money because her car broke down, so she asked me to go out with him. I figured it was just a free dinner so what did I have to lose? BOY was I surprised!"

You told them the entire story. Starting from the very beginning from before you even met Jake the Snake to how he late he was to how Gyomei.actually noticed you first to how he acted and on and on. Most looked on in pity or disgust but Shinobu never lost that small smile. You nearly lost your appetite again remembering that night but the memory of Gyomei's smiling helpful being brightened up your entire outlook.

"So one thing led to another and we ended up going on a coffee date." You shrugged drinking a little bit of the soda Hinatsuru was nice enough to get you.

"That's so mean! How could a man be so cruel and rude?!," Mitsuri loudly protested.

You shrugged again. "Spoiled too much by his parents I guess. But that's all in the past now." You smiled Brightly. "Gyomei is much more better than most of the men I've dated. Tonight is our third date actually."

"AW!! THAT'S SO SWEET! IT'S LIKE YOU BOTH MET OUTTA A FAIRYTALE!!"

"How did you guys meet anyways?" You were curious about how these people met and got together especially when they were all polyamourus. You've never heard of twelve people in a relationship before but you guessed there was a first time for everything.

"Most of us are actually childhood friends and we met way back in elementary school!," Suma piped up and bit down into a pizza slice.

"Yeah..most of them. A few of us didn't meet until like nearly graduated from highschool..." Makio shrugged. "But it is what it is."

"That reminds me. How did you three end up marrying Mr. Uzui? I've heard of having more than one partner but this is the first time I've ever seen someone be married to three people at once before. Um..no offense."

"None taken." Makio waved you off with a bored look to her face. "It was arranged between our parents a long time ago, I don't think Tengen's old man was too happy at the idea of him dating Kyo back in highschool and decided to give him a few beautiful ladies to change his mind."

"Oh that's awful." A hand covered your mouth. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It all worked out in the end."

"Really? He just agreed to it?"

"Yeah. He figured just going through with it would be easier, and we all got married right out of highschool..." Her gaze looked far away from the table as if gazing of into nothing. "..You know he offered all of us to divorce the day after? Said he wasn't going to force any of us to stay if we didn't want to."

Your brow rose at her. "But..you didn't?"

"No. I could've though. I could've divorced him and then left. Maybe I'd be somewhere studying something like cooking or maybe I'd be married again to a really, really handsome rich guy who's a renowned millionaire complete with little kids and a nice big dog. ...I could've had that, or I could stay with a guy who's 'flamboyant' butt cried when I said I loved him for the first time."

"Aw!" She was lightly surprised when you gushed. "Did he really cry?"

"Oh yes. I remember that." Hinatsuru finally got a cheeky look on her face looking at her other wives. "You two remember that right? He was so worried that Kyo would be mad at him for falling for us and he was so scared that we hated him from the start that he cried for a whole hour."

"I REMEMBER THAT!! HE'S SO CUTE!!"

"Yeah. Besides, where else are we gonna get a free portrait?"

Her joke wasn't lost on you either and a giggle escaped you. So they all grew up together? That's a cute love story! Well you guessed minus Tengan's wives who everyone met in highschool technically but you still were curious about one thing in particular.

"I do hope you don't mind me asking this but I'm curious about something," you slowly spoke catching most everyone's attention other than Mitsuri who was almost done with her giant tray. "If you don't want to answer it's fine, but how did you all.. Y'know. Well-.." You were trying to try to find a way to word it without sounding rude. So you made a half circle motion around the table gesturing to everyone.

"Find out we were all poly?," Kanae asked answering you.

"YYYes. I'm sorry if that's a sensitive topic."

She shook her head, pretty hair swaying. "Not at all. You've been nothing but respectful this entire time and honestly you're one of the few people who didn't make it weird." She shrugged her shoulders holding up her hands. "To be perfectly honest with you, it just sort of happened. Mitsuri used to date my sister back in middle school but they broke up and then she started dating Sanemi-" She gestured to Mitsuri. "-and she dated Obanai for a little bit before we all just shifted to who we wanted to have our main love be!"

"Oh..I see. So how did the whole main partner thing was figured out?"

"Simple. While I love all my partners, Sanemi is the only one I want to officially marry and start a family with." Her head tilted at you with a worried brow. "Do you think that's strange?"

A him escaped her throat as her eyes glanced over in thought. "...Well I can't say no because I guess to someone like me who isn't in a relationship like yours it would be weird. But-" orbs looked directly back to her pink ones. "I can't really judge you. Mostly because your relationship isn't any of my business so I shouldn't stick my nose where it doesn't belong, but also because it's really incredible."

"Hm?" Pink eyes blinked confused. "Incredible how so?"

"You guys have the healthiest relationship I've ever seen!"

Kanae. Blinked. "What?"

You nodded. "I mean I've seen arguments but if-.. Sanemi, I think was his name, really wanted to punish Tengen I think he would've punched him square in the face. But it just looked like one big couples fight to me..Not the really bad kind but I don't think-" You stopped seeing everyone stared at you again. "Um..Was it something I said?"

"I told you. A dam unicorn."

Kanae shot her sister another glare before sighing. "Well to answer your question, we really just sorta melded together once we realized that there was more than mutual feelings. It took some time for everyone to come to terms with it especially Nemi and Obi but it works out for us."

"And your families?"

Clink-

You blinked as Hinatsuru suddenly placed her fork down and went quiet, a sad look suddenly found on her face making you blink and then noticed that everyone else had similar looks either looking away uncomfortable or sad. Mitsuri's eating had also ceased leaving her holding up an empty burger wrapper. Eventually Shinobu sighed.

"Some of our families have...Not been very nice hearing about it let's just say. My folks for example were pretty shocked but now they're the most supportive people on the planet. However... People like Tengen's dad or Obinai's family.." A grimace and 'yeesh' sound escaped her. "You'd think a guy who's entire family was mostly women wouldn't care if he dated girls-'

"I think I get the picture." You politely held up your hand and looked around feeling suddenly guilty about the mood dropping. "...You guys said you're studying to become teachers right?" You perked back up and changing the subject to a lighter tone. "What kind of subject do you want to teach, Mitsuri?" You asked the most cheerful person hopefully her bright happy attitude would help the situation.

Like you hoped she immediately lit up in a smile. "DANCE! Specifically ballet!"

"I didn't know you knew ballet!"

She nodded. "Mm hm! I love it!"

"And what about you two?"

"I'm focusing on biology and Shinobu is taking classes for becoming a health teacher," Kanae answered with a new smile.

"Hina n' I are working through the thought of culinary schooling."

"OH! OH! I WANNA BE A PRESCHOOL TEACHER!!'

"You'd certainly fit right in."

"Makio! Don't be so mean to me!"

"Guys please."

You couldn't help but giggle at the lot of them in the end and went back to eating your pizza and waiting for Gyomei's return.

"Hey. We're all going to the beach tomorrow!" You paused mid bite of your pizza before looking at Mitsuri who smiled widely and hopefully at you. "It's one of the few times we can go before it gets too cold. Why don't you come with us?"

"Oh. I'd really like to..but I can't." Your hand was held up. "I have a project to take care of before I can turn it in Monday and I have to clean. But I appreciate the offer. Are you guys going out the entire weekend together?"

"Oh absolutely! Tonight's just a big sleepover with a movie!" Mitsuri started quickly motioning with her hands with excitement. "Then tomorrow we're going to spend all day on the beach together and then Sunday it's just gonna be the boys hanging out with each other and we're all going SHOPPING!~" She sang out that last part throwing up her hands. "And then we're gonna go to the spa and get massages, and have our nails done and a whole bunch of stuff between those things! Then we're all going to meet up with the boys for a sauna and public hot springs!" She then gasped hands smacking her cheeks. "OH MY GOSH!! YOU SHOULD TOTALLY COME WITH US!!"

You blinked leaning back a little bit. "What?"

"ARE YOU BUSY SUNDAY?! IT'S PERFECT!! YOU CAN COME WITH US AND WE ALL CAN HAVE FUN TOGETHER!"

"I don't want to intrude on your guys' date and besides as much as I would like to, I'd only be a third wheel for the entire thing. On top of that I don't have much money for me to spend."

"Uh.. Didn't Gyomei literally win you three hundred fifty dollars?"

You paused staring at them blinking.

"THAT'S RIGHT! You can totally still come with us then! Please say you will! You really didn't get a chance to really meet the guys yet and I promise it'll be so much fun!"

"Well I -.." You let out a light sigh. "Well I guess so. It might be fun."

"Oh this is going to be so much fun! I can't wait for you to see my favorite cat cafe! I'm sure the guys are just as excited!"

"You think so?"

"Absolutely! Why I bet they're thinking of fun things to do together right now!"

SMACK-

"OW! WHAT THE HELL, SANEMI?!"

Warmth spread off the tiles lining up the walls and floors. Most rising to coat their bodies like fog which was probably a good thing considering that most of them were completely in the nu- A loud smack loud disturbed the peaceful sounds of running shower heads and scents of men's brand soap and shampoo. The snack itself stopped Obanai from helping Gyomei get his back and the blind man tilt his head-

Buuuutt the very girly sounding squeal that left Tengen's throat had caused the rest of them to peer over. A stinging sensation throbbed from the side of Tengen's behind from where he was struck by something fast, and instinctively his hand clutched onto the now reddened skin. Magenta eyes narrowed with a snap of his neck and immediately found the culprit with a wet wring up towel in his hands.

"OW! WHAT THE HELL, SANEMI?!", Tengen's voice angrily echoed off the walls.

The smaller white haired man gave Tengen one of those evil grins he always gave when annoyed and his fists squeezed around the towel harder making it creak in her hands. "Consider it payback for the stunt you pulled! I would've won if you hadn't distracted me!"

"Oh please. I would've won if you hadn't twisted the rules and tricked my wife." Tengen hissed rubbing at his bottom. "Fuck that hurt. Y'know if you wanted to smack my butt that badly-"

"SHUT UP YOU SHINY MEATBALL!!"

"Are those two still going on about that? I thought we all agreed Gyomei won fair and square."

Gyomei only sighed at Giyuu's words deciding not to engage with the argument other than shaking his head and sinking further down into the tub of comforting warm water. Those two would normally fight like cats and dogs if it wasn't with Obinai. He knew the routine of these fights. They'd be angry anywhere between a few hours to a day and then either forget about it or make up somehow. Even if the current cussing at one another over 'distracting him and making him lose' or 'sanemi didn't have to attack him with a towel' was starting to give him a bit of anxiety. He sure hoped they weren't loud enough for the girls to hear them.

"YOU WANT TO KISS ME SO BAD IT MAKES YOU LOOK STUPID!!"

"STOP BEING SO FUCKING PRETTY!!..PETTY!! I MEANT PETTY!!"

"Uh huh. Sure.~"

"RRRRRRAAHH!! FUCKING STOP IT!!"

"THEN MAKE ME, SHINAZUGAWA!!"

There was a small silence other than the sounds of the others ignoring their friends' usually arguments and continuing to finish up and then sounds of running water...but after a moment of nothing his head did turn in question towards the nearest person.

"Are they quite finished?"

"Yep. They're hate kissing again."

Even though he couldn't see Obinai, he knew the man was rolling his eyes. "I see. Well at least perhaps now they'll stop clawing at one another's throats." Water rippled in his wake as he moved to stand back up. "And I have to be seeing off Y/n soon. It's very impolite to keep her waiting for me on a date twice on a date."

"Relax, Mei. You brought her here for the sole purpose of meeting us. Let her get to know them. I'm sure Mitsuri's already talking about her cats or Suma's talking her head off. She'll be fine."

"Well..I should at least make sure it's going well."

"*sigh* If you say so. And will you two get a room?!"

Sanemi's answer was to chuck the clean but wet towel he had been holding and expertly nailing Obanai in the face without even looking up from where he was gripping Tengen's head to make him lean down enough to kiss. A loud smack sound again echoed beside him and a moment later Obanai fell into the tub with a splash. ...Gyomei only groaned rubbing his face.

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sheisjoeschateau · 10 months ago

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART IV

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CHAPTER WARNINGS: major character death (?), more plot-driven smut, strong language, anxiety-inducing themes, panic attacks, co-dependency, hot n heavy but low-key emotional s*x. MINORS, DNI. 18+

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

When you do manage to get yourself out of bed and dressed for the day, which consists of an oversized long sleeved shirt that you stole from your uncle (because you liked it) along with some leggings and long white socks, you tell yourself to take a deep breath and accept whatever fate awaits you.

You've made your bed (literally, and figuratively speaking) so now you have to... well, not lie in it...

Anyway.

You walk downstairs to smell Steve at work in the kitchen, cooking up something delicious. Eddie sees you first, on the couch.

He grins and waves. "Mornin’, princess.”

You smile and give him a little wave. "Howdy."

Robin walks in with a first aid kit to give him fresh bandages, visibly sagging with relief when she sees you.

“Oh thank God, you’re up. These kids are already on one...”

You can’t help but snort a laugh at that, taking in her frazzled state, and you ask her what you can do to help but she just says in a desperate voice, “Coffee, please, I love you.” You grin and nod, hearing her and Eddie fussing over his dressing as you make for a hot cup of coffee.

You can hear the kids all around the corner, chirping lively from the kitchen. Even El is in there participating. Hopper’s voice is in the mix somewhere, grunting something about “indoor voices.” Your uncle is arguing over something with Erica, balls deep in a heated debate.

When you round the corner, your eyes first land on Nancy. She’s sitting at the bar with Jonathan. She smiles at you shyly. Jonathan greets you out loud.

“Bauman Squared is up.”

The kids all get in a tizzy of excitement. Erica’s excitement is short-lived, given her intense debate with your uncle. But Dustin is rushing over to you, blabbering about something pertaining to the lifespan of canned goods, and Mike is chiming in from the table saying, “No, Dustin, hold up, okay? So, Bauman, this is actually how it started.”

But your uncle cuts him off, asking them why they call you that when you both share the same last name. Joyce teasingly points out that he’s Murray and you’re Bauman.

Hopper adds to that, “yeah man, get with the program. Your niece is our favorite.” He shoots you a wink, and you give him a finger gun of approval.

Your uncle is rolling his eyes, but shoots you a desperate look — “Coffee. Black. Strong. Gracias.” Erica resumes her debate with him.

You grin as you move to go get your uncle a much needed cup of coffee, finding that Steve has stopped flipping the pancakes to look at you with a soft smile and scooting over a hot mug of coffee to you.

But it’s not for your uncle. It’s for you.

“Two sugar, light cream, right?”

The way that Steve murmurs the question to you makes you weak in the knees. You settle for giving him a tight-lipped grin and nod.

“Yeah, thank you,” you murmur back.

Steve moves to grab another mug, moving to pour another cup of straight black coffee for your uncle. You can’t help but notice the curve of his biceps as he does, secretly admiring his face while the coffee pours from the pot. The way his white t-shirt fits him just right, his gray sweatpants sitting at the jusssst right point of his hips.

You swallow. Fuck.

You get a hold of yourself before he’s handing it over to you. He winks. “It’s strong. I promise.”

You smirk back at him, raising the glass in thanks before walking it over to your uncle.

You don’t notice the way that Steve tries to hide the overwhelming thoughts in his brain, signaling his evolving feelings for you.

And you also don’t notice now Nancy catches it, or how it uncomfortably makes her heart seize...

But you do notice your uncle staring at you with those damn all-knowing-eyes, while Erica incessantly jabbers on about whatever the hell they’re debating. You and Murray exchange the quietest but most intense glares.

And Hopper's got half a donut hanging out of his mouth as he happens to catch the tail end of this. He wants to ask, but decides it’s best to hold off on that.

***

The day goes well. The house is always staying busy, so it keeps you all that way. Hopper is calling for a family meeting in the living room, which gets everyone in a tizzy.

The boys will always, at some point, try to take over. It takes both Joyce and Hopper to set them straight.

Your uncle makes sure to throw in his usual statement: “peanut gallery hours will follow the meeting, thank you.”

This meeting is no exception, and it goes exactly like that.

Will makes great points, as always — and he is allowed to, along with El, given their ties to the supernatural.

Jonathan and Nancy always listen the best. One of them takes notes.

Normally, you sit next to your uncle or Eddie while Steve always takes a seat next to Robin.

But this time, as you sit next to Murray at the end of the couch listening to Hopper try to push through his conference lecture while Dustin interjects like crazy, your heart flutters as Steve moves from the staircase over to sit on the arm of the couch -- next to you.

You sit still, not letting yourself react or look up at him. But you also forget to breathe. Thankfully, he’s too busy telling Dustin to can it so he doesn’t notice.

Robin is slowly shifting back in her seated position in the large loveseat, having been prepared to make room for Steve. She’s too grateful to have it to herself to feel suspicious yet.

Eddie, however, clocks it. What “it” is, necessarily? He doesn’t know. Like honestly, he’s not even in the ballpark. But still, he notices so yay gold star.

Nancy does know what “it” is, though, when she catches it. Or at least she has an inkling. She’s not the note taker today, so she’s able to catch it. She wonders to herself if maybe she is just overthinking it, given her conflicted feelings for Steve while still with Jonathan.

Steve is actively participating in the conversation with the adults, and you chime in as well. Once you’ve gotten a grip on yourself.

Something is being said about needing to go on a supply run, but also how they need to get over to the main field and see what is happening at the lab — which is now squared off with all electric fencing. The kids are LOUD, demanding it be them. Hopper shuts that down real fast.

“So help me Goddddd, listentome.” — Hopper

“Kids, shh, calm down…” — Joyce

“FETUSES, SILENCIO.” — Murray

The kids relent with rolled eyes and groans of displeasure. Hopper rubs his temples, resetting. Then speaking —

“I will be assigning roles. You will hear them, and you will accept them. Deal?”

Everyone nods, agreeing. Even the kids. Great, you think, so they’ve learned to know better than push their luck that far…

Hopper is assigning 4 separate groups to 4 separate tasks.

In one group: Robin, Nancy, Will and Joyce. They will be making the supply run.

In the 2nd group: Dustin, Erica and Murray will be staying here to run the command center. Murray’s the boss. He grins, but also wants to jump off a cliff for the fact he has been assigned the responsibility of managing the two loudest kids in the group. Lucas will also stay with Max, while on lookout at base.

In the 3rd group: Hopper, El, Mike and Argyle as the driver. They’ll be assessing the damage done, pertaining to the gate re-opening. They’re on Vecna patrol.

In the 4th group: Jonathan, Steve, you and Eddie. You’ll all be venturing over the fence to spy on the lab and get a look at what is happening over there, while reporting back to Group 2.

This sends Dustin to a fit of determination, as he insists that he joins your group so that he can help with the walkie-talkie communication since Lucas and Erica can man the fort. (Murray definitely takes offense to that.)

Hopper huffs but doesn’t disagree with the suggestion. “Don’t let this give you any sort of false pretenses, kid. This is the one suggestion you’ve made that is sensible.”

Dustin just grins like a dopey idiot. Then he looks at Steve. “Yay!”

Steve rolls his eyes but honestly, he’s cool with having his buddy.

The plan is to go into effect early tomorrow morning. Meaning, everyone needs to get some good ass sleep and tuck in early.

You’re in your room now, having just showered and put on your pajamas with freshly brushed teeth. You’re putting together your combat outfit for tomorrow when there’s a knock at your door.

You expect it to be your uncle, since earlier he was going over strategies with you for an obscenely long time — which is his very awkward way of indirectly saying, “hey, you’re my niece and I love you and I’m worried about you because that’s what family does.” So you figure he’s drawn up another 10 plans to run by you, and you're happy to humor him on them.

But it’s Steve on the other side, looking shy and like he might’ve had to talk himself into doing this in fear of how you might react.

You give him a surprised but pleasant smile. He stands there, returning it timidly. There is a silence that falls over both of you. Then finally —

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

You have to literally restrain yourself from jumping at that question with a way-too-eager oh thank god, yes. Instead, you just give him a polite grin.

“Yeah, of course,” you say.

Steve lets himself in, and he looks over to see your outfit set aside for tomorrow. He nods at it as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Tryna look badass?”

You smirk. “I am a badass. I’m a Bauman.”

You expect Steve to scoff. To roll his eyes. Make some snide remark. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you, with that same look on his face that he had this morning while you two laid in bed together. You can’t break away your gaze for a moment, almost hypnotized.

God, he is so beautiful. Why the fuck is he so beautiful?

Finally, you break the stare down by moving to get your combat boots out from the closet and place them beside the clothes.

And that’s when you feel it. His fingers brushing the edge of your t-shirt, hooking onto it so that you turn around. You do, letting him turn you to face him. He’s looking at you intently, and slowly he pulls you towards him to cage you between his spread legs as he sits on the edge of the bed. It’s half shy, half confident. Gentle but assertive. You stare down into his doe eyes, and you hold your breath when his fingers splay across your hips as they grip onto you. You’re so close to him now, too close yet somehow not close enough. You can’t breathe.

After soaking you in, Steve reaches one arm up to pull your neck down to his face so that he can brush the tip of his nose against yours, just like you did last night. Ever so slowly, be nuzzles. Eskimo kiss.

And then his lips are finding their way to be against yours.

Steve kisses you softly, taking his time and just breathing you in. Then he sighs into your mouth as he stands so that he can lift you up, making you swing your legs to wrap around his waist and hold yourself to him there. He turns you both around, effortlessly walking you over to sit on top of the chest of drawers. Damn, he's strong. Steve places you there, lips still on yours, before he finally pulls back. His hands glide down to the bottom of your shirt. Please, his eyes ask. But this time, he wrenches your shirt off of you with more vigor than last night. It’s urgent, and it’s still urgent when his lips crash back into yours before wrenching himself back again so that you can tug his shirt over his own head. He grunts impatiently, wanting to not be apart from you yet needing to be skin to skin. He paws and grabs at you, needy and greedy, but something about it feels a whole lot more like love than lust.

Steve tastes like summer. Sunscreen, popsicles and June. He smells like pool water and boyfriend. And he looks like a dream.

You wonder how in the world he would have felt if he’d been told during his King Steve era that one day, he’d be having sex with that one student who graduated a year early and didn’t belong to any niche crowd or group or clique. You wonder if he would scoff at that, wave it off. Say, nah, that girl? Never.

But the way that Steve keens into your neck right now, murmuring sinful names for you like angel and baby, makes you wonder if King Steve wouldn’t be able to understand that the new and improved Steve Harrington might just happen to be into things he never was into before. Maybe he’d gotten close with Nancy. Maybe you were a rebound. But he didn’t kiss you like that. Or treat you like that after your first time, for that matter...

And the second time was just as euphoric as the first time, just different. Steve was more in control, clinging to you and unafraid to go for it.

Before you know it, you’re up against the wall with your bare chest against it and your legs spread widely and his mouth on your ear. Tugging at your earlobe with his teeth and his shaky breathing, infused with his pleasured grunting humming inside of your eardrums. You pant and bite back the screams that you so fucking badly want to release. but you don't, not wanting to wake the entire household or get the attention anyone awake. However, you made sure that he knew you were in pure fucking bliss with the way you arched your back into him and dripped all over his girth.

“Been wanting to be here inside you all day,” he rasped, thrusting against you. “Didn’t wanna leave this room.” His words break up as he pounds himself deeper into your guts. “Needed to — to — n-n-need you —”

You throw your head back against him, climaxing at his words for the second time in a row tonight. His arm linked around your waist tightens, gripping you like a lifeline, and he chokes into your ears — which only sends you into an orgasm unlike anything you’ve ever felt in your life. And Steve shares the exact same experience as you do when he ejaculates inside of you.

You both pant and gasp for air, your heart rates racing at lightning speed and trying to level out. You’re both slick with sweat and sex, and as Steve rests his head against your shoulder it sends chills up your arms when his hair flops and tickles your bare skin.

Steve pulls out of you, and you shiver as you feel him leave your body, inch by inch. The loss of him is overwhelming, and your legs shake. But before you can even move to catch yourself, Steve is already turning you to him with a steady grasp on you.

The way that Steve strokes your hair, moving it out of your face as he stares into your eyes again, is priceless. You can’t help it…

“You’re beautiful, Steve Harrington.” You breathe it against his face, still catching your breath. The corners of your lips twitch, almost like you want to laugh or smile. “I can’t stand you.”

Steve looks at you like you’re all that matters in this world. The pads of his thumbs stroke the skin under your eyes, softly, gingerly. He moves to press his lips to the corner of your mouth, breathing against it, “I can’t stand you either.”

Feather-like kisses are pressed to the corner of your mouth and cheek, and you revel in the glory of it, pressing your skull into the wall with your eyes fluttering shut.

Steve falls asleep first that night, with you tucked underneath his chin and with his arms holding you protectively. You let the sound of his steady breathing lull you to sleep.

***

The next morning comes sooner than you’d like.

You feel someone squeeze you tightly to them, pressing their lips to the crown of your hair before they roll out of bed. You watch as Steve’s back muscles flex while he tugs his sweatpants back over his boxers, then throws his shirt back on and heads to your little en-suite bathroom for a few minutes. You force yourself to sit up, knowing that it’s time and you’ll need to get ready.

Hopper would be so mad if he knew about the 5 hours of sleep you got, versus the 8.

You’re pulling out a pair of socks to go with your boots when Steve emerges from the bathroom, and before you can stand up and move to switch places — he’s cupping your cheeks to kiss your forehead in two lingering pecks. You smile under his touch.

You give him the shyest of looks before going to brush your teeth, re-shower and get changed.

Steve quietly murmurs to you the promise of coffee as he leaves. And he is all you think about in the shower.

You get changed into your army pants, combat boots, and fitted t-shirt. You grab yourself a windbreaker and throw your go-bag over your shoulder, ready to face the day.

Dustin is securing the command center with Murray and Erica, while Mike comes over to you carrying snacks.

“Here, I set extra aside so that you have plenty.” Mike always treated you more like a sister than Nancy, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her. You ruffle his hair and give him a quick squeeze, grateful.

Lucas and Will are asking you questions about the trip, along with Mike, and you assure your kiddos that you’ll all be fine.

Hopper comes over to you with Murray, entrusting you with one of their guns. “You’re the group's team lead today, along with Steve.”

Steve’s got his nail bat, along with a pistol.

Murray is going over the inner workings of the lab’s field layout with you and your group.

“The break switch is in this building,' he's saying. "But thanks to Erica and Dustin, we’ve got a way of hacking into it at exactly this time. You’ll have this much time to mount the electric fence and get to the other side. Seize. Those. Minutes. Haul ass. Get to the other side. No asking why the chicken crossed the road. Capiché?”

The way that Jonathan, Eddie and Steve repeat the word back to him makes you visibly bite back a laugh.

Joyce is giving everyone the nurturing mama bear talk, hugging everyone too many times — especially Jonathan. She has Will in her group, so she’ll be a little more sane in the head thankfully.

Nancy and Jonathan are giving each other an affectionate goodbye that Steve doesn’t even notice. Nancy wonders if he does. Silently, and selfishly, she hopes he does. But he doesn’t.

Robin is rambling about something having to do with a jump-ship plan in case the jump-ship plan doesn’t work, and if they need to establish not only a 2nd abort —

“— but maybe even a 3rd abort? and wait is there really enough backpacks that they’re taking to fit all the supplies and can goods that they — ”

“Oh my god, Robin, please breathe,” Steve cuts her off.

“Wait, what’s the jump ship plan?” Argyle’s question makes everyone whip their head in his direction with incredulous looks on their faces.

Hopper looks ready to slug someone but also like a nervous dad. After he goes back over the plan for everyone, giving the bullet points, he tells you all to eat your breakfasts and be by the front door within 30 minutes or else.

Lucas takes his plate up to sit with Max. El comes over to talk with you about the day, saying that she’ll send a signal if she sees anything dangerous headed your way at the lab. She gives you a tight hug, which tugs at Hopper’s heart. He and Murray share a very rare, quiet moment with an exchange in their eyes. Our girls.

Steve is telling the boys and Erica to follow him upstairs to Max’s room to join Lucas for a motherly pep talk, and they all follow him like chicks following a mother hen.

Eddie is being given strict instructions by Robin to follow orders and not rip his stitches that she’s worked hard at keeping in tact by mounting the wall --

...“and be on the damn lookout only so help me god or else I’ll rip them back open myself,” she threatens him.

Eddie visibly swallows and nods at that, believing her.

Suddenly Nancy is walking up to you, as you stand there still hugging El while looking over Murray’s shoulder at his computer system setup. She looks nervous as you turn to her.

“Hey, umm, keep an eye on them, will you?” she asks shyly, sheepishly. “I worry about them. Especially Dustin.”

You know she meant Steve. “Yeah. Of course.”

Nancy nods awkwardly, grateful you didn’t correct her and a little embarrassed. She points to the gun on your back, giving you a tight-lipped grin. “Glad it’s you handling that bad boy.”

She flashes the same one across her back. You chuckle lightly, agreeing with her. “Yeah, the last thing we need is for Eddie to get his hands on this or else he’ll murder the whole town.”

Nancy giggles.

Eddie snickers at the joke, appreciating your dark humor. He gives you a wry smile. “Thanks princess, but I only prefer bone crushing, eye sucking curses.”

You all eat some whole wheat eggos (even El) and some scrambled eggs. Plenty of water, plus some coffee.

Steve walks in to scoop up his plate during the last 10 minutes, and Hopper takes pity on him — given that he’s been with the kids.

“You get an extra 5,” Hopper tells him.

“Appreciate it, Hop.”

Steve carries his plate over to the table, moving to sit by you and Murray — who does his best to just stare down at his coffee and ignore catching this in his peripheral vision. Sip, slurp.

It’s a quiet breakfast. Tense. Stiff. Everyone is nervous. This stuff never does get easier…

***

The kids all boom back down the stairs, loud as ever.

And everyone is out the door on time, minus the extra 5 minutes that Hopper secretly gave for Steve’s benefit. Thankfully, it goes unremarked but the kids.

You all put their hands in a circle because Dustin insisted a while back that you cannot all part ways without a group huddle. So it’s now become tradition. Everyone fist bumps in unison, and the four groups embark on their separate journeys.

Group 1 does well, making it into town. They have the bottom tier level of risk, which Hopper did intentionally for Joyce and Will's sakes because those are his hearts. He also adores the two girls, Nancy and Robin, of course. They carefully fill up Joyce’s car in doses, trying not to attract attention as everyone has a strict evacuation mandate that goes into place next week along with a food supply limit. They’re ahead of the game, doing everything not to give away what Dr. Owens warned them about.

Group 2 is in full swing, back at Casa Harrington. Erica and Murray bicker like a married couple, but they also high five. Lucas makes sure that Max is safely tucked in, giving her a kiss on the forehead and a promise to be back upstairs in a few hours.

Group 3 is cautious. They have to calculate every single move, given the risks. El uses her senses to tap in, blindfold on and static on the van's radio ringing throughout the car. Mike keeps watch, along with Argyle at the wheel — and Hopper navigates.

Group 4, your group, is en route. You have the longest journey to make on foot, making sure to keep their strength. Jonathan keeps watch of time, and Dustin hangs into the walkie-talkie to keep contact. You scan the area, and so does Steve, as you all walk. Eddie sings to himself to keep from wigging out, and it’s definitely giving mumbled panic.

You are telling everyone the ETA, using the compass. Steve tells the gang to keep the same pace so that they make sure they aren’t there too soon or too late, wanting to time it right with Group 2’s orders.

At some point, you gesture for everyone to pivot directions, and when Steve steps in your direction — he instinctively reaches out to brush the small of your back. It’s so subtle… yet so telling.

Eddie cocks an eyebrow mid-song, ceasing the mumbling altogether for about 2 solid seconds, before resuming as he walks. Even Jonathan raises an eyebrow, silently smirking.

Dustin misses it entirely.

Then Dustin starts communicating back and forth on the walkie-talkie with Erica, and as they start to bicker Steve interjects.

“Hey, dingus, cool it and listen to what she’s saying, please.”

Dustin huffs, whining, “but she’s wronnnng...”

You squint in the sunlight as you look back at him, saying simply, “Listen to your mother.”

Steve doesn’t even flinch. You both just look back at your son expectantly. Dustin sighs but obeys.

Oh that definitely makes Eddie and Jonathan share a look.

Back at base, Murray is struggling to access the switch for the electric fence closest to where Group 4 (you guys) is approaching. He and Erica work hard at it, and Lucas helps as he keeps open the line of communication with Dustin via the walkie-talkie.

“This east side gate is a bitch,” Murray is griping over the channel. “Hang tight, just pause when you guys make it there.”

Dustin and Lucas are going back and forth, while Jonathan tries to keep up with what they are all saying.

You can see the fence up ahead, and so does Steve.

Eddie’s singing gets louder.

Nancy speaks over the walkie-talkie channel: “Group 1, reporting. Over.”

Dustin speaks. “Group 4, tuned in. Over.”

The other groups tune in, too. Nancy continues in a hushed voice. “Food supply is running low so we’re going to double up. The mandate will be really strict. Can’t take chances. Over.”

Jonathan tells her to keep them posted with the ETA.

El comes onto the walkie-talkie, asking for you.

You take it, speaking: “Bauman squared, I copy. Over.”

Eleven tells you that she can see you all headed there to the lab, and that no one is nearby. You’re safe.

Hopper adds: “But Eddie, make sure that you stay tuned into this channel and relay it to Dustin just in case. Over.”

Eddie’s song of woe dies on his lips with an anxious exhale. “Roger that, over.”

Steve speaks up, “Alright guys, we’re here.”

Dustin signals Murray, right on cue. You all stare up at the looming electric fence in front of you. It’s tall. At least 30 feet up. You gulp. So does Jonathan. For Steve, it’s easy. For Dustin, well, it’s exciting.

Jonathan adds to the relayed info, addressing Murray, saying, “Yeah, uhhh, it’s pretty high up man?”

Murray’s tone comes through, crisp. “How high is high?”

Jonathan visibly shrinks back as he squints in the sunlight. “Like...25-30 feet?”

Murray curses on the other side, frustrated. “Alright, hold please.”

Steve turns over to face you all, starting with you. “It’s gonna be a helluva climb.”

You nod. “We’ll have to double up the speed, guys. But for safety, let’s just do two at a time.”

Jonathan’s brow furrows. “Why?”

You tell them it’s safest this way. This way, two people can gauge the timing of it just in case. Dustin immediately demands to go in the first group, which Steve shuts down promptly — like all good mothers would with their favorite child. He starts to onboard Jonathan, but you’re already saying you’ll go as you tighten up your bag. Steve looks at you, hesitant.

You look back at him, giving him a nod. “No arguments.”

Steve sighs through his nose. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

He’s so sexy when he isn't actually hating you, and instead just consistently miffed with you…

“Group 4, listen up,” Murray’s voice comes over the walkie-talkie. “I’m signaling the switch now. On my mark, it will take exactly 3 minutes for it to activate. You’ll have 60 seconds to climb it. Up and down. That’s it. Remember what I said: haul ass.”

Dustin responded back with a sigh, “Steve and Bauman Squared insist on going two at a time so…” He dreads the next question, cringing before asking. “Any chance you guys can…do it…twice?”

You turn around, waiting to hear your uncle’s reply and wondering if you’ll need to step in. His befuddled response confirms, yes you will, and you walk over to take the walkie.

“Uncle Murray, it’s not very sturdy. It’s too big a risk, four at a time. If you can’t do it, then just me and Steve will go. What can we do? Over.”

You speak matter-of-factly, which Steve appreciates. He stands with his hands on his hips and tongue between his teeth, all hot and mom-like. Even though for you...he’s giving daddy.

Eddie has been pacing a trough into the grass. Please let me have company, he thinks.

Jonathan’s just quiet, wondering if now is a good time to tell everyone that he’s actually afraid of heights.

Dustin just wants to fucking climb already.

“Workin’ on it. Standby.” Your uncle’s monotone voice makes you all wait.

You stare up at the fence while you do. Then, turning your face over in Steve’s direction, you find that he’s already gazing over at you. That fondness in his eyes is back, and you feel your cheeks flush under the sun. But it’s not the sun making you blush. Steve's hands are still on his tips, and he gives you a tiny wink before turning to look back at Dustin with the walkie-talkie. He tells his kid not to stress about it if they can’t come, which only starts a back-and-forth argument between mother and son. But Erica’s voice cuts through it over the walkie.

“Group 4 nerds, listen up. We found a way to do it. Over.”

Dustin pumps his fist in glee. Jonathan doesn’t. Eddie realizes he’s doomed, back to being there all alone.

Steve takes the walkie, asking, “Same timeframes, Murray? Over?”

Your uncle confirms it, but then Lucas is in the background saying, “Wait, are you sure this will give them 60 seconds?”

Steve raises an eyebrow at that. But you’re looking at the top of the fence. The end of the other side of the line is quiet for a hot minute. No doubt, Murray and the kids are beefing. Re-calculating. Beefing some more. Getting attitudes. Then finally —

“Erica to group 4, confirming. Timeframes are exact. Wait for us to signal the 2nd climb. Standby and brace for 1st climb. Over.”

You and Steve look at each other. Here we go. He fastens his backpack, reaching out a hand to you and telling you to hand over yours. You go to protest, but he’s just insisting without budging and reaching anyway. It isn’t until his hand starts to slide the strap down your shoulder that you huff and relent.

“30 seconds to climb.”

“There’s a ledge up there, wide enough to stand on.” You nod up at it as you tell Steve. “If we run low on time, we hang there until the 2nd climb.”

Steve nods at you, agreeing. He turns and relays that to a very anxious Jonathan and a very antsy Dustin. You gesture over to Dustin, telling him to toss you his backpack. Steve goes to argue but you hold up a hand.

“Better me than him," you say quickly. It’s a parental thing that he would insist on too, so he lets you win that one.

Dustin obeys after seeing mom agree with…um…dad? Are you dad?

“10 seconds to climb.”

Steve talks fast, in position to pounce. “Eddie, on go, toss that branch to hit the fence. Double check for sparks.” Eddie nods, picking up the large branch nearby. You get in position with Steve.

“5…4…3…2…1…climb!”

Eddie tosses the branch. No electric shock. All systems go.

You and Steve hop as high as you can, climbing up like champs. You both hustle, swiftly making the climb like pro climbers. Steve is faster, planning to reach down and lift you the rest of the way if he gets to the top first. But you’re almost right at the same level with him, almost at the top.

…until your bag catches.

The strap of Dustin’s bag pulls you back down. Air catches in your throat, no scream escaping your mouth as it swings you around, unhooks and makes you fall back some feet. But you latch back onto the wall, back down to midway. Fuck.

Dustin gasps, Jonathan shouts your name. Eddie starts his shit-shit-shit chant.

You look down, realizing that it’s way too far of a drop to just fall back down and start over. You are literally back to the mid-way point.

You make up your mind within a few seconds: keep going.

Steve is hoisting himself up onto the thick ledge as this is happening, and when he turns to see you lower his heart stops.

“Bauman, what happened??"

But you keep climbing, shouting, “Steve, just keep going.”

But Steve is not having that. He’ll fucking wait. Hell, he’ll wait for Dustin too. He’s staying put. He shakes his head, clapping his hands and reaching for you even though you still have another fourth of the wall to mount before you reach him.

“30 more seconds.” Oh thank God, that’s plenty.

”You got this, Bauman, c’mon...” Steve’s ready to hold you again. Anxious. So fucking anxious.

Dustin is cheering too, along with Eddie and Jonathan. You’re fine. Almost there.

You look at Steve at the top, leaning over the side looking down at you. You can see the anxious anticipation in his brown eyed gaze.

“20 more seconds. Group 2, don’t forget to wait for our signal.”

But right as Murray stops talking — the wall buzzes.

Everything happens in slow motion. One second feels like a whole minute for all 5 of you in your group. Your ears perk up at the sound. That wasn’t an insect. That’s mechanic. That’s —

“Was that —” Eddie barely started to ask the question you were all wondering.

“Fuck, Bauman — !!! ” Jonathan’s voice is panicked with realization.

Steve’s brow furrowed, alarm and horror sweeping across his entire face.

You feel a scorch so hot, fire itself couldn’t have burned as badly as the electric shock that shot through your entire body did.

In that single second, you felt your brain short circuit.

You felt your hands get shoved away from the wall, throwing you off with blinding force.

You felt your throat snap, and you felt your heart rumble inside of your chest...

And then you felt it stop.

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

:( im sorry, Steve.

author notes: I am sure that the fence thing might be weird and not accurate, but it helped my vision for how this chapter goes down. so I hope you all will be kind and not find it too "unrealistic." had to watch some stuff like the OG Jurassic Park, and get ideas for it.

tag list: @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @xprloki @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #dustin henderson #stranger things fanfiction #murray bauman #enemies to lovers

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