Tumgik
#steve: im literally just standing here
ickypuppi3 · 2 years
Text
something something pornstar billy and fluffer steve who doesn’t actually realise what he signed up for until it’s too late he’s on set
121 notes · View notes
taintedcigs · 1 year
Text
we’d still worship this love — e.m.
part two of even if it’s a false god.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader
warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI. p in v, cr*ampie, unprotected s*x, angstangstangst, eddie regrets everything!!, jealous eddie, a bit of protective steve, drinking, swearing, praises, nicknames, fluff!!
summary: in which eddie regrets what he said to you. (wc:6.3k+)
a/n: literally the lyrics match up soooo well w the story imo im sorry for the last line ok i rlly tried to hold myself back not to directly write any lyrics lmao. this is CHEESY. i hate THE ENDING. as usual! but im so glad u guys liked pt. one and i didn't want to deprave any of u !!! i did not proof-read so pls ignore any mistakes!! hope u guys enjoy this lmk what u think mwah!!
Tumblr media
Eddie sighed as he checked the kitchen, you were still nowhere to be found.
He had fucked up.
So badly.
He grabbed the half-empty red cup sitting on the kitchen stand. A whiff of alcohol hit his senses as soon as he tried to sniff it; it reeked, but Eddie didn’t care at this point, downing it like it was water.
He grabbed the pack of cigarettes sitting in his back pocket, walking miserably toward the backyard as he lit the cigarette sitting between his lips.
“Let’s get you to Steve’s, yeah?” The voice that passed by him was quick to grab his attention.
Robin.
“Robin?” He exclaimed excitedly, causing Robin to mouth “Don’t”.
He took a step to get closer to you but stopped quickly in his tracks; he had caused enough fucking damage.
He made his bed, and now he needed to lie in it.
He watched as you and Robin left, leaving him all alone. 
2 HOURS LATER
DON’T ANSWER: im so fuckhjing sorry
DON’T ANSWER: i didnt fuckingmeanit lije that i swear
DON’T ANSWER: pls talk to me
DON’T ANSWER: r u at steve? i can come
DON’T ANSWER: pleaseeeeee we can’t leave things like this. 
You heaved a sigh reading his texts, he was drunk again, and you weren’t going to entertain him.
You blocked this contact. 
“He’s texting me.” You groaned, chucking your phone away as you plopped yourself onto Steve’s bed.
“What did he say?” Steve asked curiously.
“He wants to see me and talk, he’s drunk again.” You replied curtly, head still filled with the words he uttered to you.
“I just… I can’t believe he’d say that.” Robin chimed in, shaking her head.
“I could. He’s an asshole.” You rolled your eyes.
“Yeah… but I always thought he had a soft spot for you.” Robin muttered.
You chuckled dryly. “He has a soft spot for my body.” You crinkled with disgust.
Robin shook her head as she spoke. “No, I mean it, Y/N… I really don’t believe he meant it like—” 
Steve was quick to interrupt. “Jesus, Robin, stop making excuses for him. I know he’s your friend and all, but he fucked up. And there’s nothing he can do now to ever take back the things he did to her!” He exclaimed, the two of them started bickering back and forth. 
You wanted to sink into the bed; you so badly wanted to believe Robin, believe that Eddie’s words were all just a lie, just something he made up on the spot just because he was afraid. 
But Steve was right—even if it was a lie, even if it was all a huge misunderstanding, nothing he could do would undo the amount of pain he caused you. The nights you spent sobbing—nothing could change that. 
But a part of you also knew that, if Eddie ever caught you in a moment of weakness again, you’d do it all over again; you’d let him ruin you all over again, just to have him complete you for the mere seconds he made you feel loved. 
The bickering and the storm in your mind stopped with a sudden knock on Steve’s door. 
The three of you looked at each other in unison.
Shit.
Did that stupid bastard really have the audacity to come here? 
You looked over at Steve with pity, about to open your mouth and beg, plead with him to do something, and he was quick to understand your train of thought. “I got this.” He muttered, hand squeezing your knee for comfort before he attended the door. 
As soon as the door swung open, there he was, blood-shot eyes and messy hair framing his face. He was shitfaced and could barely stand against the door frame. “Munson.” Steve affirmed sternly. 
“W—where is she?” Eddie slurred, barely even letting Steve speak. 
“She’s not here.” Steve said without letting Eddie take a look. 
“Look, man… I know she is, please—” He tried to push past him, but Steve stood his ground, blocking his way before his face turned cold. 
“She doesn’t want to see you.” Steve almost hissed, the intensity of his gaze taking Eddie back. 
“Don’t make this any harder and just leave, yeah?” Steve muttered, almost shutting the door before Eddie’s heavy boots interfered. 
“Please.” Eddie pleaded, making Steve huff as he threw a quick glance your way, and you quickly shook your head, mouthing ‘no’s.
But that was it; Eddie barged in as he used Steve’s distraction to his advantage, you gasped when the door swung open, revealing Eddie. 
He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, his gaze held guilt and relief. Guilty because of the fact that he uttered those words to you. But, relieved that he saw you, relieved that he could finally explain himself to you.
Yet you looked at him with such disgust that it ached his heart, putting on a heavy ache on his chest. Every breath he took now felt like a struggle. 
“Don’t!” You seethed when he took a step toward you, Steve was quick to jump to your defence, but you waved him off. 
“Leave.” You could feel your face grow hotter with rage each time you spoke, you didn’t want him here, you wanted him to disappear from the face of the earth. 
“I’m so fucking sorry.” That was all that left his lips, his eyes were glinting with sadness, and his bottom lip trembled with guilt. 
“You have the nerve… You have the fucking nerve.” You chuckled dryly, tongue rolling inside your cheek in anger. 
“Please... Let me just explain,” He slurred. 
His drunkenness made you more angry.
“I don’t want you to!” You hissed.  
“I told you, I’m fucking done, Munson.” You spoke calmly, tears were threatening to spill, but you held your ground. 
“One fucking minute, I swear—” You heaved a sigh, and another angry chuckle escaped from your throat as you looked at Steve, as if to tell him to kick him out, signaling for help. 
“Alright,” Steve muttered. “She doesn’t wanna talk, Munson.” He spoke calmly as he held Eddie’s arm, trying to drag him out. Eddie’s protests fell deaf on your ear as you plopped yourself on the bed again, crying into Steve’s sheets as Robin played with your hair to reassure you. 
1 MONTH LATER:
Thirty fucking days.
Eddie was going to lose his mind. 
Blocked from everywhere, and you avoided him like the plague.
He knew he deserved to be shut out; he knew he didn’t deserve you. But even crumbs of information from you would have eased him.
Steve and Robin had been useless, except for today. Except for that cryptic message Robin sent him about you being at the party today. And he praised his lucky stars for that.
Until he made it to the party.
Until he finally saw you.
With Mr. Jock pinning you against the wall as you giggled at his unfunny jokes.
Jesus fucking Christ. 
Don’t make a scene, Eddie. Don’t fucking make a scene—
His lips pressed together, jaw quick to clench as he couldn’t help the way he almost sprinted toward you. He didn’t know if it was out of pure jealousy, or the fact that he had missed you so goddamn much that he couldn’t stray away from you anymore. 
“Hi, honey.” Eddie said sarcastically and chirpily, jealousy dripped from his tone, and he couldn’t help the intense gaze he had on the asshole. 
You froze in your place as soon as you recognized the voice. What the fuck was he doing? 
Standing between the two of you, “Who’s this?” Eddie spat, his hand aggressively pointing toward him. 
You rolled your eyes before you turned to him. “Don’t,” You warned, your brows shooting up and a fiery flash apparent in your eyes. 
“Who are you?” He narrowed his eyes at Eddie, and as if Eddie had been waiting for him to provoke him further, he gave a smug smirk. Body turning to face the asshole.
You panicked, and the ever-so apparent tension in the air grew thicker “No one.” You replied quickly, avoiding Eddie’s lingering gaze. 
“Really? You’re gonna play that card, princess?” He gave you a dry chuckle, jealousy gnawed at his insides. 
You squeezed your eyes shut to save yourself from embarrassment, but he wasn’t going to stop until this jerk wasn’t at your side. 
“That’s not what you were saying the last time I saw you—” You were quick to cut him off with a warning gaze, your eyes widening. 
“Eddie… This—this is Ethan.” You said through gritted teeth. 
Eddie mocked a realization face, and you wanted to punch that smirk off of his stupid smug face. “Oh…” He laughed all-knowingly.
“That Ethan? The jock?” You narrowed your eyes, annoyance setting over your face, and you couldn’t handle the heat growing in your cheeks. 
This asshole. 
“I’m sorry, man.” He chuckled, giving Ethan a harsh slap on the shoulder, a slap that wasn’t friendly in the slightest bit—and you were sure now that the tension in the space the three of you shared could be cut through with a knife.
You cleared your throat to speak up, but Ethan did it before you. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
This was the provocation Eddie needed, and you knew it; you saw that mischievous glint glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, just that she was telling me all about how fucking horrible you—”
You interrupted Eddie with a nervous giggle. “Sooo sorry! He’s just a bit drunk!” You gave Ethan a panicked smile. 
“I’ll see you around!” You called out, walking off while dragging Eddie as far away from him as possible with a harsh grip on his arm. 
You probably didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you dragged him toward the closest empty room. 
“What the fuck?!?” You yelled into his face. 
He ignored your distress. “What are you doing with him?”
“None of your business.” You hissed.
“It is my business if you get with Mr Jock again.”
“I’m not getting with—” You lowered your voice mid-sentence, annoyance taking over. 
“What part of ‘I don’t want to fucking see you ever again’ don’t you understand?” You let out through gritted teeth, your face heating from anger. 
“Did you know…” He said, completely ignoring you, and you looked at him with the same angry expression, getting tired of his antics.
“When you get angry like that, a line crinkles on your forehead, and those sweet lips pout into a frown? You look so fuckin’ cute like that.” He murmured, leaning against the wall you trapped him into.
You let out an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked, brows furrowing. 
“What the hell do you want from me?” 
“You? I mean, eventually, I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night.” He smirked.
Fucking jerk.
You chuckled with an audible scoff. "Is this some kind of a joke?" You muttered under your breath, voice laced with irritation.
“You are so fucking irritating.” You spat, eyes narrowing. 
“Just… just—Leave me alone.” Your voice lowered, your face was coming closer to his, and all Eddie could think about was how nice it was to have you this close to him again, to feel your warmth again.
You could see it, the emotions his gaze held, but you didn’t want to fall for his antics again, so you turned quickly to leave.
“Please.” His pleading and his hold on your arm were what made you stop in your tracks. The way his voice cracked, you could hear the desperation. If only you didn’t care about him this fucking much…
“Please—just, hear me out.” He was almost begging, and you knew you should be running, you knew you shouldn’t care, not even to spit the venom inside of you that had been building since that night.
But you can’t help it. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, words coming out in a sharp and biting tone as your anger escalated. 
“After what you said to me...” You looked at him with a piercing stare, your eyes practically emitting flashes of irritation.
“Do you have any fucking idea how much I can’t even stomach being around you?” Your nostrils flared with every breath you took. 
“In fact, I hate you.” You spat.
“You hate me?” He asked, inching closer toward you. 
“Yes!” You snapped. 
“Then show me.” He challenged. 
“W—what?” You stuttered, your confidence dissipating in a second as the room felt so fucking small when he was standing this close to you. 
Your guard was so thinly veiled that one fucking word from him was enough to shatter it.
And you knew, with one or two more pushes from him, you’d give in. You’d give in, regardless; you had missed him more than you would ever let him know. 
And you shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.
“Take it out on me.” He whispered, gaze intentionally fixated on your lips. 
“You hate me, fine! One last time. Get me out of your system.” He’s so close to your face that when he leans in to whisper in your ear, you can feel his hot breath on your neck. 
He’s intoxicating—his endearing words, the jealousy, and the possessiveness—and you shouldn’t fucking fall for it. 
But it feels different this time; something is so fucking different about him that it’s throwing you off. The way his pretty lips frame the words is convincing. 
Making you believe that this would be the last time, making you believe that you could come clean off him if you had him just one more fucking time. 
You don’t say anything when you give in, your gaze lingering on his lips.
His eyes are quick to trace your face, admiring all of your features in awe, regret filling every vein in his body, knowing that this would be the last time. 
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says roughly. He doesn’t let you respond, lets the petty comments die down your throat when he kisses you. 
Oh, Jesus, Fucking Christ. 
Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. There was something so bittersweet about the way he kissed you, knowing it was going to be the last. He twirled his tongue with yours, so needy and so fucking promising. 
Eddie knew you better than the back of his hand, so when you started whimpering against his lips, your knees giving out, he knew you didn’t want to waste any time. 
He guided you toward the bed, gentle as he had never been before. The two of you were slow to undress each other, savoring every fucking moment. 
He let you lead everything, going only at your pace and making sure everything was up to your desires, purely catering to you. 
You could sense it, see the difference in how intimate this was, compared to others where it was just senselessly fucking, this was passionate, and it was killing the two of you. 
Rather than just pushing into it, he kept his gaze on you, admiring the way your chest rose up and down as his calloused hands slid further down your body, nipples hardening when his hands stopped to ghost over your thighs. 
His other hand rested on your breasts, and he didn’t hesitate to latch his tongue on it, sucking while his other fingers toyed with your entrance. 
You mewled; you weren’t going to hold back. “Moremoremore.” 
But he didn’t move an inch.
That greedy bastard. 
“More,” You pleaded louder this time, growing impatient. 
Eddie looked at you with such hunger in his eyes that it had your core throbbing. “I’m gonna give you every fucking thing you need, honey.” He promised. 
“But I need… this. I need this memory of you engraved into my brain, forever.” He groaned, giving all of his attention to every part of your body. 
You were quick to nod, quick to oblige him, especially when he made you feel this fucking good. 
But you couldn’t help it, you needed him. Especially when he was everywhere, hands gliding all over your body, making you whimper with just his touch. 
And the way you looked at him was so fucking tempting that he was almost going to explode, you were pleading with your gaze, telling him to take you… fully. To make you his, one last fucking time. 
He could recognize the weight your gaze held, almost as if he understood your train of thought, he pressed his thumb further into your clit, circling around it as your core clenched on nothing. 
“Please,” You begged. 
“Such an impatient, baby,” He muttered into your skin, pushing past your folds as he earned a low groan from you.
“Missed those sweet noises,” He hummed, doing everything in his power to not pound into you right away, the way your cunt was gushing for him, the way you pleaded, Eddie was sure he’d burst if he had to wait more. 
With a tender touch, he tucked your hair back. “You have no clue how fuckin’ insane you make me.” He pressed a sloppy kiss, his hands were still working their way through your folds. 
“Each time I’m around you… it’s like I lose all my fuckin’ senses.” He slurred into your ear, his cock was straining his boxers, and you looked so fucking perfect beneath him, looking all fucked when he had barely touched. 
But you ignored it. Ignored every one of his words, you didn’t need his sappy shit; you didn’t need another reason to stay. 
You just needed to feel good. 
“Please, fuck, baby, please,” You whimpered softly, your nails digging harshly into his back, making his cock twitch more and more. 
Baby. 
He doesn’t even remember the last time you called him that, and it shouldn’t bring a stupid, childish grin to his face, but it does. 
He’s ready to put everything behind him, start over, and do whatever you say. 
But he’s sure you will never let him. 
“I need you, Eds.” You murmured, eyes gazing into his; a mixture of tenderness and longing overtaking your features, speaking to him without uttering a single word.
That was all it took for him to free his hard cock from his boxers, his pink-tip burning with desire as it faced you, beads of pre-cum dripping from it as you smeared it all over, giving it a few pumps before you placed it into your entrance. 
The low groans that escaped Eddie’s lips were so fucking loud, filling the room, and you loved it. You loved the strained sounds he made with one touch from you. 
He didn’t hesitate to push himself deep inside of you without a warning, the space now being filled with both of your contented groans. 
“Holy fuck,” He breathed, head tilted back as he grinned at the sight in front of him.
You with your mouth hung open, murmuring his name as you took his cock like the good fucking girl that you were.  
“Takin’ me so well, angel,” He praised, “Baby, so fuckin’ tight, mhmm.” He placed sloppy kisses between your jaw and the line of your neck, grunting as he pounded his cock in and out of you with a speed that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
You were lost in him now, lost in the pure passion and affection Eddie provided you. You never felt this fucking good; you never felt this fucking close to him, breathing heavily as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 
Everything was so fucking intense that you could barely breathe.  
“Look at how well your sweet cunt is takin’ me in.” Eddie moaned, watching the way his cock disappeared into you, nuzzling him with your warmth. 
“Fuckfuckfuck. S’fuckin’ warm, honey.” He muttered the deeper he pushed into you, and your walls were quick to clench around his throbbing cock.
You arched your back into him as you rocked your hips toward him.  
You wanted him deeper and deeper, faster and faster, his every moment was euphoric, and you needed him, more and more. 
He was making you greedy. 
God, you wanted to hate him so fucking bad. 
He groaned at your impatience, relished in the way you grunted your hips more into his cock, he chuckled smugly. “Greedy baby,” He muttered. 
You ignored his taunting while you begged for more. 
“Shut up,” You murmured, teasing him back.
And it was a huge mistake.
He cursed as he pulled out of you, and you whined at the emptiness, “Shit, shit, ‘m sorry” You whispered, but he ignored you, continuing his teasing while all you could do was thrash beneath him. 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” You begged, causing him to smirk down at you. 
And even though your pleas were heavenly, Eddie was in no mood to stray away from you, he needed to be inside of you. 
He needed to feel your walls hugging his cock, he needed to be as close to you as he possibly could. 
“I would never say no to you, doll.” He mocked, rocking his hips into you with such force that the whimper that slipped past your lips was sinful. 
“All fuckin’ mine, yea?” He whimpered needily, and you nodded without hesitation, even though you both knew that wasn’t true. 
You shuddered underneath him; he was filling you to the brim, and you cherished every fucking second of it. 
“Eddie…” You barely let out a breath; the pleasure and sensation of each of his movements overwhelmed you. 
He cooed, “S’stuffed with my cock that you can barely speak, doll?” He asked mockingly. 
You nodded without hesitation, eyes squeezed shut. “I—Fuck…” Your head was dizzy, incoherent babbles were the only thing that escaped your lips, and Eddie knew, he knew you were close by the way your legs trembled. 
“Fuck… honey—I know.” He purred cockily, his hips pushing further into you with a glorious thrust. “I feel the same, baby.” He groaned when you clenched around him again.  
“My perfect girl.” He muttered as he continued his pace, his cock rocking into you further and faster—as if it were possible—earning low pleads from you in return.
“I never—I never thought being with someone could ever feel this way,” He whispered into your ear. 
Don’t let him get to you; don’t fucking let his words get to you.
But fuck—does everything with him feel so fucking good. 
“But, shit, you’re so different…” He muttered, his pace continuing as he grunted between his sentences. 
“You’re so fucking different.” You avoided his gaze, the emotion it held was too fucking much for you to handle.  
You tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the way you felt the hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Your emotions were a mess. 
It felt good, and he felt good; his words, his fucking cock inside of you, everything felt so fucking good. It was the temporary fix you needed. 
“Don’t do this to me, Munson.” You barely let out, he could feel your thighs trembling. 
“I…I never felt this way before… Jesus—Fuck.” The rocking motion of his hips became rougher each time he spoke; you were clenching around him, getting tighter and tighter, driving the both of you into insane heights of pleasure.
“I think I lo—” You snapped from your hazy state of pleasure; each of his words was like a stab at your fresh wound, the one he fucking created. 
“Don’t,” You warned him sternly, interrupting before he could get another vowel out.
"Don’t fucking finish that sentence. Don’t do that with me.”
“I know you. It's not working on me." You whispered.
“But—” He pleaded, and you interrupted again.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t ruin this.” The words were harsh as they left your lips.
“Don’t say things to make me doubt this, to make it harder for me to leave.” There was such a vulnerability in your voice that he couldn't help but want to protest. 
He wanted to tell you that it was all fucking true. That he was so fucking in love with you that he was sure he lost his mind. 
Yet, you don’t let him speak, you don’t let his words fool you, not again. 
You kiss him in a dizzyingly rough motion just to shut him up. 
His skin slaps against yours, rough, as if he’s trying to take his frustrations out, and you let him, you let him pound into you senselessly. You let his cock drive into you further, not stopping until he’s sure he’s stuffed you to the brim. 
“Eddie, fuck!” You mumble into his lips; your brows are drawn together, and he knows—he knows you are close. 
“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly. “Cum for me, honey.” He encouraged, not stopping his pace as he roughly thrusted his cock inside of your throbbing cunt one last time. 
A gush of wetness pulsed out of you when you released around him, the strength of your orgasm was enough to choke you out, and white-hot flashes blurred your vision as he watched you in awe. 
He wasn’t far behind, as the strained moans that escaped your throat drove him closer to the edge. 
“Shitshit—s’fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted. The way your cunt convulsed around him was too much for him to handle. He slammed inside of you one last time.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—” He growled against your hair as he came, his cock shrivelled inside your cunt, pulsing as he coated your walls with his warm cum, fucking his release inside of you.
The two of you stayed like that for a hot minute, bodies tangled to each other, both minds fuzzy as both of you tried to catch your breath. 
You could feel tears brimming your eyes again when the realization hit you. 
This was the last time. 
And you needed to leave. 
As soon as possible.
And that’s exactly what he’s afraid of, afraid of you leaving, forever. 
You are quick to shake your thoughts off, quickly getting up to get dressed. 
“Don’t,” He mutters, it’s barely audible. 
You turn to him with a quizzed look. “Please… Just, please don’t leave.” He begs, it’s the last sight you expect, and the last thing you expect to hear. 
And it should feel so fucking satisfying, to know he’s wrapped around your finger, to know he is practically pleading for you. But it doesn’t, it feels so fucking sentimental, and you hate it. 
“You knew.” You muttered, putting on the clothes you so carelessly discarded. 
“You wanted this to be the last time.” You whispered, not daring to look at him.
“I lied,” He was quick to reply. 
“Eddie…” You heaved a sigh.
“Please, just fucking listen to me for once.” He breathed; you’re sure you’ve never heard him this determined. 
“I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m the biggest coward in the whole fucking universe, okay?” You turn around to meet his gaze, it’s pitiful and heavy with guilt, and you wish you never cared about him.
You wish you could just throw your feelings away and leave him behind. 
“I don’t deserve you!” He exclaimed, causing you to roll your eyes. 
“Stop… just stop with the bullshit of making me pity you—” You replied angrily.
But he doesn’t let you finish. 
“Look, Y/N. I want that with you, I want something real with you… Shit—more than anything.” 
You chuckled, baffled. “Too fucking late for that.” You replied coldly. 
“I—it doesn’t have to be!” He spoke, grasping at straws to get you to give him one more chance.
Just one more fucking chance.
“What good will it do?” You whispered.
“You know what I realized?” You asked, putting on your shirt as Eddie gazed at you with need. 
“We’re both so beyond fucked up that...” You squeezed your eyes shut.
“Us—” You pointed toward the two of you. “We would never work!” You spat.
“I’m the last fucking girl for a relationship, and you’re the last fucking guy for a relationship.” 
“That’s why it would be perfect!” He tried to reason, but you shook your head.
“No—no, it wouldn’t! We’d eat each other alive!” You exclaimed, but Eddie refused. 
“So?” He shrugged.
“So? We’d just fight all the time! You really want a relationship that hard?”
“When did you become so fucking afraid to take a risk? A little challenge?” You narrowed your eyes.
He read you like a fucking book. You knew you weren’t afraid of a challenge.
You were afraid of getting hurt.
You were afraid of being more attached to him than you already were.
You were afraid of him running out once you decided to fully commit.
You knew it wasn’t all him; you were messed up in your own fucking way. Avoiding everything that felt too real was your specialty, because you’d rather be aching now than in the near future when he broke your heart again.
If you didn’t leave now, you never could.
“Goodbye, Eddie.” You muttered, shutting out whatever he was saying as you closed the door. 
Eddie sat on the bed, alone with himself, and his mind that was spinning with thoughts and his own voice telling him that he fucked up. 
He chucked his jacket to the ground as he rubbed his hands along his face in frustration. 
He had truly done it this time, he had lost you.
Forever.
But did he have to? 
Did he need to be a fucking coward again? 
Why would he give up this fucking fast when he didn’t tell you how he even felt? 
Eddie got up in a hurry, sprinting toward the party like a man possessed, spinning around each girl he saw in the hopes that it might be you. 
“Have you seen, Y/N?” He asked, and the blonde girl pointed toward the porch. 
He muttered a quick ‘Thanks’ as he slipped through the bodies in his way as fast as he could, making his way onto the porch with anticipation, eyes glistening the second he spotted you. 
You were sat on the cold wooden floor with your face buried into your hands, quiet sniffling was all Eddie heard. And he felt it again—that familiar ache—the same ache he felt the past month, when he couldn’t see you, talk to you, or know how you were doing. It returned instantly when he heard your sobs. 
“Hey… hey…” He murmured, causing you to jump as you turned to him with swollen eyes and your mascara was quick to run down your cheeks. 
“You’re gonna get cold, honey. Let’s get you up, yea?” He had never been this fucking caring, nor did he ever pine after you this much; he always held back, no matter what storms brewed in his mind. 
He extended his arm for you to take, but you glared at him coldly. “What are you doing here, Eddie?” 
“I need to talk to you.” He said. 
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You muttered, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to—” Your rant was interrupted by his pleas.
“Please—just don’t say anything and just listen, please.” You sighed. 
“Please, Y/N.” 
“Fine.” You crossed your arms against your chest, your eyes still glistening with tears.
He inched closer to you. “These thirty fucking days I’ve spent away from you… It’s been torture, Y/N.” He shook his head. 
“You—you have no fucking idea the things I did... The things I’ve tried to forget about us... Forget you.” His voice almost cracked, distress overtaking his features. He was sincere, so fucking honest that it was starting to make you afraid.
You couldn’t decide if it was him or the chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. “And no matter what I did, I still found myself itching for you. A part of me that I couldn’t fucking kill craved for you… to see you, to call you.” 
You’d never seen him like this before.
Eddie was always guarded, all fun and teasing. Always turning serious shit into jokes.
And this was real. The only thing you wanted from him, the only thing you begged that he made a mockery of. The hypocrisy was appalling to you.
You opened your mouth, your brows had already furrowed, and he could tell you were going to curse him out, so he didn’t let you.
“I know… I’m a fucking hypocrite, I get it.” He whispered, and your eyes almost widened.
How the fuck did he read you that easily?
“And I’m so fucking sorry for everything I said.” He ran his hands through his curls, almost tugging them out for being an idiot.
“I was afraid, okay?” He heaved a sigh, hand ruffling through his messy hair.
You didn’t want to ask him what he was afraid of because you knew—because you were afraid of the same thing.
Your lips trembled with need; no words dared to come out of them. 
“I was so fucking scared because I did the first thing we promised not to do.” He squeezed his eyes shut. You knew how bad he was with his feelings; you couldn’t even believe that he had made it this far.
“I think—No, I know.” He shook his head.
“I really fell for you.” He was ripping open your chest now, holding your heart out. Telling you he felt the same. A gasping, quiet noise escaped your lips; this was all you wanted—needed.
You’ve been this close to Eddie countless times before; hell, he probably fucked you at a much closer distance countless times before, but this was intimate. 
“And I realized... I could lose everything in this fucked up world.” He took a deep breath, his face so close to yours that you could sense it. Sense every emotion radiating from his body—the vulnerability, the pain. 
Each beat of your heart was like a drumroll against your chest; everything you longed for was there, a breath away from you.
“But not you. Oh god, not you.” His brows knitted together in a painful expression, and his voice was barely audible as he looked at you with a gaze that held you as the center of his universe.
You wanted to kiss him; you wanted his soft lips to graze against yours; you wanted to sob into him, melt into him, and become complete with him. 
“W—what are you saying?” You asked, and you knew the answer, but you needed that confirmation, you needed those three words to leave his lips.
“I love you.” He said without hesitation, and you couldn’t help the childish grin that formed on your face, mirroring Eddie’s. 
“I—You do?” You stuttered.
“Yeah… I love you so fucking much that it’s embarrassing, really.” He chuckled, still not able to comprehend your expressions; you looked… frozen. 
“You, uh, you don’t have to say it back.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, all of this was so fucking new to him. What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No, no, no... He couldn’t do that because you didn’t say it back. 
“I’m sorry, shit, uhm—I honestly have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” He stuttered. 
You gave him a warm smile. “I’d say you are doing well,” You whispered, scrunching your nose. 
“Yeah?” He returned the smile—that goddamn smile that brought out his dimples. 
God, you wanted to kiss him. 
“You’re making it so hard for me to leave.” You muttered, turning around to take a breath as you shook your head.
Eddie sighed, hands quick to find yours as he turned you to face him. “Then don’t leave. Stay.”
His past words didn’t matter, and how your relationship started didn’t matter. None of it mattered now because Eddie was ready, ready to give himself fully to you. And he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
It was now or never. You heaved a sigh of breath as you looked into his eyes; you couldn’t help yourself. How could you not utter those words back to him?
“Jesus…When I told Robin that I was ready to fall in love again, I didn’t mean with you.”
You barely gave him any time to process your words as you smashed your lips with his.
It was as if passion was dripping from every move; it felt so fucking different to have this many emotions carrying your actions.
Before you could further it, taste him fully, Eddie pulled back slightly. You whined at the loss of contact. “Wait, wait, wait.” The words slipped past his lips quickly, eyes widening at your words.
“You—you? You are…?” He asked, baffled. He didn’t expect you to say it back.
He expected you to hate him forever. The thought of someone loving him was unfamiliar to him, especially to the extent that you did. Healing his fears without realizing it.
Your lips quirked into a smile. Why was he so idiotically cute?
You nodded, affirming him.
“Say it, please,” He pleaded, hands gentle as they cupped your cheeks. The look he gave you was mellow and your face tilted as you melted into his tender touch.
“I love you,” You muttered, eyes glinting with all the unspoken feelings you’ve been containing.
“Again.” A grin overtook his lips, and his widened eyes didn’t falter, shock and pure bliss apparent was written all over his face.
“Please,” He implored, brows softening each time you gave him that pretty smile.
“Soooo needy.” You narrowed your eyes jokingly.
“I love you,” You repeated, your gaze lingering on his honey-glazed eyes.
“Aren’t you a fucking dream?” You giggled, the dimples on his left cheek were pretty, he was so pretty.
“I love you more, honey.” He whispered, smashing his soft lips against yours.
And you invite him in to patch up the wounds he made, to give you the world, to love you fully; knowing that the blind faith transcended into something real, something worth worshiping.
2K notes · View notes
stevie-petey · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
episode nine: the good
Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning. Until Richard and May Harrington walk in. Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.
Summary: the party battles the horrors of high school and leave you stranded, tw: applying for college is harder than fighting literal demons (you would know, youve done it), jonathan joins your nightmare blunt rotation, max worries you, and steve solidifies his position of Best Boyfriend in the World as you slowly fall apart (though is anyone really surprised ??).
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: cursing, allusions to previous character death
Words: 11.2k idk how or why i needed to say so much
Before you swing in: we're here !!! FINALLY at the end of season 3 <3333 im so so so excited to present to you the groundwork for what i have planned for season 4 ;) it will be ... a lot. the season is huge, its difficult and scary, and i did my best to try and capture its dread and ominous sense of doom in this chapter. please enjoy and bear with me as i prepare for season 4. unsure when i will be done planning her, but i PROMISE itll be worth it !!
-
“Are you sure Ms. Bote is nice?”
“Yes.”
“And that Mr. Cune won’t question the hat?”
“Yes, Dustin.”
“And you’re absolutely sure we have lunch together?”
“Yes.” You tighten the straps on your mary janes and give your brother an exasperated look. All morning he’s been freaking out about his first day of high school. You understand his fear, it’s scary starting at a new school, but you’ve answered all his questions a million times by now and Steve is supposed to be here any second. “We need to go, buddy.”
Dustin shoves a pancake into his mouth, wiping his face with the back of his hand in a disgusting manner. “Wait, but what about my backpack–”
“I have it, Dusty!” Your mother walks into the kitchen and hands it to him. She kisses his mess of curls and strokes your cheek. “Are my darlings ready for their first day of school?”
“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time, which your mother frowns at. 
Dustin adjusts his backpack and gives you an odd look. “Why are you nervous? It’s not like you’re being blindly thrown into a den of hormonal creatures out for blood. You’re old now, they’ll leave you alone!” 
“Trust me, the college admissions process is a worse monster than school bullies.” You grab your own backpack and start heading towards the front door. “I have to start planning what to write, I–I need more clubs, and projects, and–”
The anxiety overwhelms you. It always starts like this: talk about college, you fall down a hole of uncertainty and dread and fear. It’s been like this ever since Jonathan moved away. The minute the Byers moved, you threw yourself into preparing for college. Rationally, you know it’s your poor way of coping with all the sudden change in your life. You don’t need a psychological research journal to tell you that. In a futile attempt to control your future, you’ve become obsessed with college. 
New York University, specifically. 
Jonathan has always dreamed of attending, and when you met him, it became your dream, too. 
“Okay, dear. Settle down, now.” Your mother places a hand on your shoulder and laughs nervously. She has about five seconds before you collapse into a mess of college admissions rambling and despair. “Let’s go outside and find that wonderful Stevie!”
Your body is shoved out the front door alongside Dustin’s. Steve’s car is parked, he stands outside it, arms crossed and a grin on his face. Your body relaxes when you see him, the buzz of anxiety dims. He’s wearing his Family Video vest, the green makes his tanned skin glow.
“She’s doing it again.” Dustin tells him, tossing his backpack into the backseat.
Steve winces. He knows exactly what your brother is referring to. He’s been at the other end of far too many anxious phone calls at three in the morning. “College?”
“Yeah, she almost had a meltdown in the kitchen.”
“I can hear you both, you know.” Though you try to seem fine, keep up the annoyance, you stand next to Steve and rest your head on his shoulder anyways. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your forehead. 
Steve rubs your arm and makes a sympathetic noise. Your mother, seeing how he holds you, squeals. “Oh, stay just like that, hold on!”
“Mom, what–” But your mother ignores you and runs back inside the house. You look at Dustin, terrified. “She’s not…”
He shakes his head at you. He leans against the car next to you and crosses his arms, mimicking Steve’s earlier stance.  “She’s mom. Of course she is.”
“What are you guys talking about–” A flash of light momentarily blinds Steve, and he flinches. “Woah, alright.”
“Smile, kids!” Another camera flash, and your mother coos as you, Steve, and Dustin awkwardly shuffle into frame. It’s not that the three of you dislike being near the other, it’s the fact that it’s seven in the morning and neither you nor Dustin are ready for the day ahead. Steve smiles, though. “That’s it! Everyone say, ‘happy first day of school’!”
A mess of incoherent mumbling follows your mothers command, but she doesn’t let it bother her. She takes a million pictures, preens when she sees Steve smile even wider, and she has to hold back tears. Her babies are all grown up. Dustin is a freshman now, and you’re a senior.
“Alright, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve has to quickly blink, trying to regain his eyesight. He adores the woman, he knows he’s become her favorite, but he really needs to get you to school before his shift at Family Video starts. “I have no doubt you’ve already taken the best picture ever.”
“Aw, just one more–”
“Mom.” Dustin clears his throat, urging her to stop, and she sighs. 
Your mother kisses Dustin’s head, then yours, and wishes you a good first day before getting into her own car to drive to work. “Bye, kids!”
You all wave at her, and Steve opens the car door for you. Once you’re seated, he goes to the driver’s side and tells Dustin to get in the back. The engine starts, soft music plays from Steve’s radio, and soon the three of you are driving towards Hawkins high. 
“No Robin?” You ask Steve after a few minutes of silence. He’s grown rather close to the girl, working together all summer, so you had expected her to drive with you guys to school. When you and him officially got together, Robin made the two of you promise that you wouldn’t abandon her. It was an irrational fear, you love Robin dearly, but you made sure to spend time with her and Steve equally anyways. 
“She has band practice this morning,” Steve responds. “So it’s just me and the Hendersons today.”
Dustin shoves his head in between the two of you. His seatbelt strains against his chest, but he doesn’t care. He’s on a mission to get as much information as he possibly can. He refuses to go into high school blind and pathetic. “Steve, you were once popular.”
“Why the past tense? I mean, I’d consider myself still pretty well liked–”
“I need you to tell me what you did that led to your demise so I can avoid doing the same.”
You snort and Steve sighs. The kid really keeps him humble. He stops at a light, looks at Dustin through the rearview mirror, and shakes his head. “What makes you think it was anything I did?”
“Kid’s got a point,” you say from the passenger seat. Steve gives you an offended look and you raise your hands in surrender. “Hey, all I’m saying is that I also don’t really know what happened. You’ve got a track record of pissing off the wrong people. One minute you were King Steve, the next you were shunned.”
Steve groans. “You people have no faith in me.” He can feel you and Dustin staring at him, unbelieving. He hates when the two of you team up against him; it makes it harder for him to lie. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to tell you what happened. Not because he’s embarrassed, or ashamed, even. 
He knows it will only upset you. Reopen wounds. 
But you and Dustin keep staring at Steve and there’s still at least ten minutes left of the drive. Weighing his options, Steve figures it’s best if he just tells the truth. Like ripping off a bandaid, knowing the pain will be there regardless of how long you stall. “Okay, fine.” He scratches his nose, clears his throat. “It was, uh. Because of Billy.”
The temperature in the car drops. It’s suddenly ice cold. 
Dustin slowly leans back against his seat. Steve faces ahead, eyes on the road, but he watches you from his periphery. No one has mentioned Billy since his death, at least not in front of you or Max. 
Especially Max. 
They wait for you to react. To tense up, ball your hands into fists and wipe away tears. They expect the guilt you’ve barely kept hidden to resurface, but you don’t do any of that. Instead, you surprise them. “Can’t believe you let a mullet defeat you.”
Steve isn’t sure if he’s allowed to laugh at first, worried it’s some bizarre test of yours. But he sees the smile on your face, albeit forced and terse, but he knows you’re trying. So he plays along, relieved that you’re doing what you can. “I don’t know, I thought the mullet looked pretty good.”
“Get a mullet and see how fast I leave you.”
Dustin nods in agreement, Steve shakes his head with a laugh, and the temperature in the car returns. There’s still a slight chill in the air, there will always be a slight chill, but you pull your jacket tighter around you and ignore it. 
When you get to the school, Dustin stares at the hounds of teens all walking through the parking lot. He gulps, tightens his hands around his backpack, and you try to ease his apprehension. 
“Hey, look at me.” He does, and you extend your arm, offering a handshake. Dustin eyes you wearily, but reluctantly he shakes your hand. You nod at him, hand firm around his. “It’s just you and me. And Lucas. Max, too. Unfortunately, possibly Mike. Copy?”
“Copy.” Dustin releases your hand and salutes you. He pushes his hat down, takes a deep breath, and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Let’s go.”
“Good luck, little Henderson.” Steve salutes him as well before turning to you. He presses his lips to yours, hums, a soft smile on his face. “And good luck, angel.”
Ignoring Dustin’s dramatic gagging in the back, you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile back at him. “Thanks, honey. Have a good day at work.”
Dustin nearly falls out of the car with how fast he scrambles out of it. He’s about to ban all forms of physical affection between you and Steve. It’s disgusting. No one wants to see any of that. You follow after your brother and exit the car.
You only make it a few feet before Steve rolls down the car window and shouts, “I love you!”
A few students in the parking lot turn, and their faces contort into shock when they see none other than Steve Harrington. He waves at them, cocky as always, and you’re both mortified and so in love. He may have lost his crown, but he will always be the king. While Dustin ducks his head down in embarrassment, you wink at Steve. “I love you, too!”
“You’re going to be the reason I end up getting thrown into a dumpster on my first day.”
“Aw, is Dusty-bun jealous?”
“Go die.”
The entire day it feels like you’re missing something. 
When you get to homeroom, there isn’t a seat saved for you at the front. When the physics teacher drops his chalk five times within the first five minutes, there isn’t anyone to tease you for your poorly contained snicker. In the library, you’re forced to sit in a corner because there’s no one to share the plush sofa with. 
There’s no one who whispers answers to you during calculus. No one who hooks their foot around your desk’s leg. No one who doodles in your notebook just to get you to laugh. 
Jonathan’s absence is palpable. 
You knew it would feel weird, starting senior year without him, but you didn’t think it’d feel so lonely, either. Empty. Unfinished. 
By the time lunch comes, you’re slowly losing your mind. You need someone to talk to. Robin and Nancy don’t share any classes with you, Jonathan had been your only real friend at Hawkins, and now you’re paying the price. 
You’re the first one at the lunch table, which you figure is a good thing. Earlier in the week you and the party had all agreed to sit together at lunch, you’d been excited to finally share the same school building as them. However, you hadn’t wanted to hover over them. You wanted them to branch out, meet new people, so lunch was your agreed upon time with them. 
The lunch room fills with students and you wait anxiously for the rest of the party. You’re excited to see them, ask how their days are going, maybe even gossip about the freshmen, but when they arrive it’s almost as if a tornado rips right through you. 
“There you are!” Dustin finds you first and slides into the seat next to you, nearly causing you to face plant into the ground. “Look, we gotta talk.”
You frown. “Okay, is everything–”
“We can’t stay and eat.” Mike cuts to the chase, not even bothering to sit down. Lucas stands behind him, quiet and nervous.
“What, why?”
“Eddie Munson wants to meet us.” Dustin says the boy’s name as if you should know him. But you don’t, and now you’re really confused. What does he have to do with any of this?
“Eddie…?”
Mike rolls his eyes at you. “Eddie Munson, Hellfire club, DnD?” When he sees that nothing he’s saying makes any sense to you, he huffs. “Seriously, do you not know anything?”
You throw a chip at him, hurt. “I was in choir, not some stupid DnD club.”
“Hellfire club isn’t stupid–”
“Anyways!” Dustin cuts the fight short. There isn’t time for you and Mike to argue right now. “Eddie is the dungeon master, and he’s recruiting us to join his party! We–we gotta go and meet him, Y/N. He doesn’t just let plebe freshmen like us join.”
“He’s legendary.” Mike says, and sadly you know he means it. It’s not often someone has the boy’s full admiration. Mike is hard to impress, and this Eddie guy seems to have him wrapped around his finger already.
Dustin stares up at you, eyes pleading to understand, and you know you can’t ruin this for him. Only hours ago he had been terrified of his first day, and now he’s almost vibrating with excitement over the possibility of joining some club. There will be people there like him, others interested in what he loves, and you can’t let your own loneliness ruin that. 
“Well,” you clear your throat, try to appear excited for the boys. “Go see Eddie, then.”
“You sure?” Dustin doesn’t want to just leave, he knows you were looking forward to lunch today. He’ll stay if you need him to, he’s sure Mike can talk his way in with Eddie. 
You smile at him, force your voice to be light. They’re growing up. You all are. “I’m sure, it’s your first day. You’re supposed to be joining a bunch of clubs, it’s a good way to make friends. I’m proud of you. Seriously.”
Dustin isn’t entirely convinced, but Mike has already grabbed his arm to go and find Eddie. He turns to Lucas, beckons him to follow. “C’mon, dude.”
“I’ll-uh. Follow in a sec.” Mike gives him an odd look, but Lucas is already sitting down next to you. Seeing this, Mike gives up and leaves with Dustin. As soon as they’re gone, Lucas lowers his voice and leans in close to you. “Hey, do you, uh. Know Jason Carver?”
The scent of chocolate ice cream infiltrates your nose, the sound of it colliding into the teen’s pants rings in your ears. The memory of it is tangible, and you have to hold back a laugh. Yeah, you know Jason Carver. “I mean, we aren’t friends, but we know each other. Why?”
“Do you…” Lucas looks around, making sure Mike and Dustin really are gone, before he continues. “Do you think he’d let me join the basketball team?”
You’re surprised. Sure, Lucas has always shown an interest in the sport. He plays with Steve sometimes, they trade cards, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in the school’s team. “Oh.” Then, you realize why he’s stayed behind. “You don’t want to join Hellfire, do you?”
“I know I’m just a freshman, and–and Mike would probably call me dumb for wanting to even try out, but. I don’t know. I think… I think I could be really good on the team. Might make high school easier.”
“Then you should go for it,” you reassure Lucas. He’s always been so careful to not upset others. He’s loyal, down to his very core, you understand the fear that doing something for yourself brings. “Jason isn’t so bad. A bit much, but kind. He’s a team player, and I think they'd be lucky to have someone like you.”
Lucas smiles shyly at you. “Really?”
“Really. Now, go and find the guy. Ask him when try-outs are, and I’ll talk to Steve about practicing more with you. How’s that sound?”
“You’re the best!” Lucas gives you a quick hug, already getting out of his seat, and runs right into Max. They collide, he manages to save her from falling, and he laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, you okay?”
Max nods, silent, and immediately you and Lucas know that today is one of her bad days. Her eyes are sunken in, it doesn’t look like she got any sleep last night. She sits down next to you, and you nod at Lucas, signaling to him that it’s okay if he leaves. You’ll take care of her. 
Lucas hesitates, unsure, but reluctantly leaves when you nod at him once more, urging. If it was anyone else, he would stay, but it’s you. Besides Lucas, you’re the only other person Max talks to. You’ll stay with her, Lucas deserves to go and branch out like Mike and Dustin are.
“So, did you know about Lucas wanting to join the basketball team?” You turn to Max once the boy has left. She shrugs, picks at the food in front of her. It’s the most response you’ll get from her, and you sigh. “You don’t want to be here either, do you?”
She looks up at you, alarmed that you caught on so fast, and you just shake your head at her. You dig into your backpack, take out some cookies you baked the night before. They were supposed to be for all the kids today, but they’ve all left and Max needs them more right now. “Here, take these. Go to the left stairwell, next to the choir room. No one goes there during lunch, it’s quiet.”
“Thank you,” Max exhales with relief, taking the baked goods from you. Tears lump in her throat, she doesn’t know how you always manage to do this. To see through her, always say the right thing. 
“Of course, my dear.” You risk touching her face, she’s cold, but she closes her eyes and breathes in at the comfort. “I expect to see you at Bookstrordinary after school today, though.”
Somehow Max laughs, and the action hurts her to do so. It’s becoming harder and harder to bear the sound of her own happiness. But she nods at you, understanding that it’s an order she can’t disobey, and leaves. 
Then it’s just you at the lunch table. Alone. 
Nancy is at yearbook, she’s told you all about her grand plan of reforming the club into something more than just homecoming polls and gossip panels. Robin is at yet another band practice, preparing for the annual back to school pep rally later this week. Steve is at Family Video, bored out of his mind, both of you wishing he were here instead. 
And Jonathan is across the country, at an entirely different school, aching to be near you again. 
The thought of him in California only intensifies the loneliness that you feel. The feeling overwhelms you, and before it can swallow you whole, you dig through your backpack once more. Your fingers shake as you rustle through the notebooks and textbooks, and they clutch desperately at your walkman when you finally find it. The mixtape Jonathan made for you before he left sits within it. 
You quickly place the headphones over your head, muffling the sounds of the cafeteria around you. Your fingers find the play button with practiced ease, and soon the beginning notes of the Beatles play through the wire and into your headphones.
The song soothes you, it quiets what you don’t want to hear; it makes you smile. The mixtape is all you’ve been listening to ever since Jonathan left. Though it can never replace his presence, it’s enough for now. 
You stare at the empty seats around you. John Lennon’s voice floats through your ears. 
Welcome to senior year.
– 
Miraculously, it’s Nancy you lean on the most as the autumn leaves turn orange and the summer’s heat dies down. She finds you later during your first week, grabbing lunch from your locker, and she stops you. 
“Don’t tell me you’re going to spend another lunch alone.” Nancy has never been one to greet someone. She always gets straight to the point, a quality that you normally admire.
However, you feel embarrassment rise within you, slightly off put by the cruel words. Sure, you’re not necessarily thrilled that you’ve spent your first few days of senior year alone, but you didn’t need Nancy reminding you of that. “Hello to you too, Nance.”
“Shit, I didn’t mean to offend you.” She holds her notebook close to her chest and looks down in shame. It’s weird, there’s a distance between you that has only seemed to widen despite how hard the two of you try to bridge it. For a while things were good, great, even. She was genuinely your friend, but sometimes insecurities can hurt the ones people love the most. 
“Not really sure how I was meant to take that.” You close your locker and try to excuse yourself. You’re exhausted, you hardly slept the night before. “Look, I should go. I stayed up all night working on stupid college applications and I just… I’m tired.”
Nancy’s posture straightens, eager to grab onto any opportunity to amend things with you. “I can read over whatever you have.” When you raise your eyebrows at her, she quickly backtracks, worried she’s overstepped. “I–I mean, that is, if you want. Not that you need the help! It’s just–”
She forces herself to stop. She’s rushing her words, messing it all up. Her shoulders drop, Nancy takes a deep breath and looks you in the eye. She never apologized for her words earlier this summer. The way she sneered venom at you, but she’s carried the guilt of it ever since. “I’m… trying. I promise I am.”
Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers have never handled vulnerability well. It’s what made you stand out against them, set you apart, and you can’t help but find this quality in them endearing. You know that Nancy is trying to go back to how things were, before one phone call between the two of you revealed the unspoken resentment she held. 
You never blamed her for any of it. But you know she blames herself, and Jonathan’s absence doesn’t help; both of you miss him, neither of you can afford to lose anyone else. 
So you try as well.
“I’ll let you read over what I have only if you let me read what you’ve written as well.” You nudge her shoulder with yours, getting her to finally smile. “I’m curious to see what that brain of yours has thought of already.”
Nancy laughs, relieved. “Definitely nothing as creative as whatever you’ve written.”
“We’ll see about that, Wheeler.”
Soon you find yourself in the yearbook room. Nancy introduces you to some kid named Fred, who moons over her the entire time you’re there, though she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy reading through your ideas, and you find yourself admiring her side profile. The way her eyelashes kiss her brows, the soft cherry on her lips.
Nancy is beautiful. You understand how Jonathan and Fred and Steve and countless other guys in Hawkins have lost their minds over her. 
You read through portions of Nancy’s writing, and the two of you sit quietly side by side editing the essays. She marks some things down, crosses out some lines, and you do the same. It’s lovely, being by her side again. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed her following the events of this summer. 
“So, New York University, huh?” Nancy eventually breaks the silence.
You nod, humming as you skim over a line that you particularly like. Circling it, you respond. “Yeah, it’s been my dream school ever since I was young.”
Though you’re applying to other schools as well. A few state schools, some in Virginia, close to your father. But New York is truly where you hope you’ll be next fall.
“Jonathan mentioned that you like psychology, right?”
“Yup,” you cross out an extra word. “Particularly child psychology. Figured that after everything we’ve been through, especially the kids, it’d be useful if at least one of us has any idea what’s going on inside our minds.”
Nancy chuckles. “Fair.”
It falls quiet again, but you don’t want the peace to end. “I heard from Jonathan that you’re looking into Emerson.”
“He tells you everything, doesn’t he?” Though this time Nancy’s question is asked with fondness, slight exasperation and humor mixed in.
“Mhm, we’re a package deal. You tell one of us something, then the other is bound to know eventually.” You look up at Nancy and lightly touch her arm. “Though he still keeps some things from me when it comes to you, don’t worry.”
She laughs again, and finally you allow the silence to settle upon you. It’s a comfortable one. There isn’t a tension underlying it. For the first time in a long time, you’re able to simply sit next to Nancy and feel that she wants you there with her. 
After that day, you and Nancy spend almost every lunch period helping each other with your applications. 
Steve helps you, too. In his own ways. 
While he can’t help you write the essays, he lets you call him at two in the morning to rattle off application ideas so you won’t forget them. He doesn’t complain when you wake him up and he has an early shift the next day. Instead, he listens. Steve offers you his own tired input and indulges in whatever you need to feel that you’ll succeed; he’s the most doting, patient boyfriend you could ever ask for. 
And, secretly, Steve adores it. Especially when you call him some nights just to have him come over and hold you. 
Those are his favorite nights. Tonight is one of them.
“Why does college exist?” Your cheek is pressed against Steve’s chest as you lay in your bed together. The steady rise and fall of his breathing is melodic. 
He plays with a strand of your hair, you feel him shrug. “‘Dunno, but you’re almost done.”
“Yeah, just have one more application to send before I get to spend four agonizing months waiting to find out if I even get in. How fun.” Sarcasm drips from your lips. You’ve spent the last two months obsessing over it all, which words to write in your essays, which clubs to join, which teachers to beg for recommendation letters. 
And now you have one application left. Then you’ll be forced to wait, without any control of the inevitable outcome. 
You’ve never been someone comfortable with letting go of control. 
“Everything will be fine, angel. NYU would be stupid not to let you in.” Steve reassures you with a kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, the tip of your nose, the dip of your brows. As he kisses you, he envisions doing this a year from now, in a small, rundown apartment with sirens wailing outside and a fire escape that creaks in the wind. The song of New York City. 
Eventually Steve’s lips will find yours, and the conversation will be long forgotten. It’s how most of your nights end now, lost in the kisses as his breath mixes with yours. Hands will wander. Sighs will leave parted mouths. Quiet, soft, aware of the precariously thin walls. 
You haven't slept with Steve, at least not yet. Though you’ve been together a few months now, it still feels too soon. He’s your first boyfriend, your first kiss, your first real love, and Steve doesn’t want to rush you. If all you ever do together is lazily kiss and breathe each other in, then Steve will happily part your lips with his and draw soft sighs out from you.
In the morning you’ll awake with Steve’s lips on your neck, his eyes shining up at you, and in the morning sunlight, before you’ve fully woken up, the air between you is sacred. 
“I sent in my final application,” you’re whispering, not wanting to wake up your mom who has fallen asleep on the couch. It’s nearly midnight in Indiana, but in California it’s only nine and Jonathan has just finished his school work for the night. “NYU, it’s done.”
On the other end you hear shuffling as Jonathan leans against his kitchen wall. Will sits at the table with El, he sketches the early stages of a painting and she studies grammar. Jonathan watches them, his mom is in bed, and he forgets for a moment that he’s on the phone with you.
“Bee?” You say the childhood name so softly, so tenderly with concern, and it brings Jonathan back to himself. 
“I’m here, sorry.” He clears his throat, his head is still slightly muffled. Jonathan met a guy in woodshop this week, his name is Argyle, and somehow during lunch he found himself in the back of the guy’s van with a blunt hanging loosely from his lips. The smoke dulled the ache of missing Nancy, of missing you. Jonathan can’t tell you this, though. You’d kill him, and he hates disappointing you. “What were you saying?”
You frown slightly, he sounds different. There’s something in his voice, it’s raspy and he sounds distant. The sound is lonely, he sounds lonely. Jonathan isn’t really here, despite the fact that he’s talking to you. The last few phone calls have been like this. You don’t know what to do.  
When Jonathan left, the two of you promised to call each other every Friday, a compromise. A way to create distance, yet tether you to each other. Jonathan calls you every Friday, Nancy gets him every day the rest of the week, and it works. This is how it’s always been ever since early September.
At first you guys would talk about how your weeks had gone. Jonathan would complain about the California heat and you would tell him about how Mike and Lucas had crashed your date with Steve one night. Laughter would float over the telephone lines. Teasing, whispered “I miss you’s” and spoken goodbyes with the promise of talking again next week. 
But last week when you called, the teasing was gone. The laughter was minimal. You had complained about an exam that day and Jonathan had given one word responses that had worried you. It had been odd, but you thought that maybe he’d been tired that day. Everyone has a bad day, you know this.
Yet it’s Friday again and Jonathan couldn’t feel farther away from you.
“I mailed my NYU application in, bee. You send in yours yet?” Voice light, cheery. You do what you can to try and keep him afloat. You try to grasp at the good that’s left between you. Remind Jonathan that you’re right here, still with him, without scaring him away. “You remember our plan, right? Me and you in New York, together.”
Since you were kids the plan has always been to go to college together. Back then, neither of you could fathom a reason to ever be apart. You were invincible, the same way all kids think they are before the world tells them otherwise. 
But you and Jonathan aren’t invincible, you never were. 
You can hear the way your question suffocates him. The breath that he holds, stilted and torn, suffocates you as well. 
Nausea punches Jonathan, the smoke from earlier suddenly fogs his throat. He doesn’t know what to do. Nancy wants him to go to Emerson with her, he promised you NYU when he was twelve, and California has his mother and Will.
“Yeah, yeah. I–I mean, I sent mine in. Last week.”
Jonathan is lying. You’ve known him for almost six years; he always stumbles over his words when he lies.  
Part of you wants to ask him why he’s doing this, lying to you and pulling away. Another part of you, the larger, more naive part, doesn’t want to believe it. You clear your throat, swallow down the hurt, and choose naivety. “Oh,” your tone is too pinched, too put together. You clear your throat again. “That’s–that’s great! I, um. Surprised you didn’t read the essays to me. Have me edit them, like we’ve always done.”
Jonathan leans his head against the wall and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s never been able to lie to you, he knows you’re desperately trying to overcompensate, as you always do. He hates it. He hates himself. “Yeah, well. Got excited, I guess.”
You hum, words failing you, and the line goes silent.
Dread replaces the laughter that night.
– 
Before you know it, it’s Halloween and the party has infiltrated Steve’s house. 
The holiday falls on a Saturday, and the party deems itself too old to trick or treat. When they find out that Steve’s parents won’t be home that weekend, they demand to spend the night at his house and watch horror movies.
Steve fights back, complains that he doesn’t want them taking over his living room, but his complaints fall on deaf ears. That, and Dustin ropes Robin into their plans. 
“Oh, God. Don’t open the door!” Dustin shrieks, throwing popcorn at Steve’s TV as he covers his eyes with a blanket. He cowers against Lucas, who shoves him off, and Mike snickers. Max sits on the couch, outside of their fort, and watches the boys. None of them try to get her to sit with them. They know they’re lucky that she even showed in the first place. 
“I can’t look.” Robin’s voice carries over, you can almost picture her cringing as she holds a pillow to her chest. Mike chose a particularly gory movie, and the kid’s mind frightens her.
A loud crash sounds, then a woman screams. You figure the protagonist did open the door and has now died, though you can’t be sure. You’re in the kitchen with Steve, taking out the final batch of oatmeal raisin cookies from the oven. The smell wafts through the home, bringing warmth to a house that Steve has always found cold, and he places his hands on your hips. 
“You spoil the kids too much,” he presses his nose against your cheek and kisses you. “They invade my home and you bake them delicious goods.”
You set the tray of cookies down onto the counter. “As if the cookies aren’t for you, too.”
“That isn’t important. We’re focusing on my hostage house, Y/N.”
“‘Hostage house’, quite the alliteration there.”
Steve now kisses your neck, distracting you as you plate the cookies. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.” 
“Don’t make me come in there!” Dustin screams, and Robin echoes him with her own disgusted yelling. 
You laugh at their theatrics while Steve rolls his eyes. He really hates that his house has become the party’s source of entertainment. He just wants to compliment his beautiful girlfriend in peace. Who would punish a guy for that?
In his moping Steve almost misses you walking back into the living room. He follows, stumbles over his feet, never wanting to be more than a few inches away from you. You’re magnetic, always pulling him in. 
Mike is the first to grab a handful of cookies. Lucas and Dustin follow quickly after. They shove the food into their mouths and you scoff at their lack of manners. They’re such boys, growing taller every day, and they’re just as disgusting as they were when they were kids. 
“Want one, Max?” You hold the plate up to her, noticing that she hasn’t moved from her seat. She shakes her head at you, eyes never leaving the screen. Lucas and you share a look, the same concerned expression on your faces. 
The moment is broken by Robin, who grabs a cookie and practically melts. “Holy shit, Y/N. You bake these regularly?”
“Usually once a week,” you shrug at her. “Though I once baked six batches during finals week.”
“God, that was a good week.” Dustin hums, lost in the blissful memory.
Robin grabs your arm, eyes wide with enthusiasm. “I will give you my firstborn child in exchange for my own batch of cookies.”
Steve pokes her shoulder. “You already promised your firstborn to me after I agreed to cover your weekend shift.”
“I can have twins.”
You laugh at her. “That’s a terrifying thought.”
Robin sticks her tongue out at you, causing you to laugh even more, and Mike puts the next movie on. Everyone settles back down, you lay with Steve in the lovechair with Robin in front of you. Max has the couch to herself, the boys are sprawled on the floor in a mess of pillows and blankets, and for the first time in months you feel a certain warmth having your family together. 
Sometime during the night the clock strikes twelve. 
It’s November 1st, 1985. 
Steve’s nineteenth birthday. 
Robin snores softly on the ground, arm underneath her head as a makeshift pillow. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas are all curled up against one another, their faces young again. Max sleeps softly on the couch, her hand dangles over the edge, grazing Lucas’ outstretched arm and open palm. 
Steve lays beneath you, he isn’t quite asleep yet. You’ve come to learn the rhythm of his breaths as he sleeps. The way they slow, the pattern steady. You lift your head up, wanting to admire him, and find that he’s already looking at you. 
“Hi, angel.” He whispers, smiling sweetly. 
You smile back, you always smile back at him. “Hi, honey.” Doing your best to remain quiet, you crawl up the length of Steve and nuzzle your way into his neck. You kiss the dip just above his collarbone, causing him to shiver. “Happy birthday.”
Arms encase you, pull you deeper into the body you lay on. Steve’s body heat warms your face, warms your bones, and you wish you could stay like this forever. In Steve’s arms, the scent of him overwhelming your mind, his touch calming you. 
“Thank you,” he kisses the top of your head. He lingers, his lips soft. The two of you stay like this, his head against yours, your chin tucked into the alcove of his neck. Your breathing syncs with his, his fingers trail up and down your spine. Your fingers splay over his chest, warming his ribs. 
In the morning, Max wakes everyone up. 
“My mom will be worried,” she kicks Mike, nudges Lucas’ shoulder. “Wake up, idiots.” 
Steve groans, squinting his eyes against the morning light. He tries to roll over and block it out and nearly shoves you off the seat in the process. “Steve!” He manages to catch you in his sleepy state, but his movements are slow. 
“Sorry!”
You clutch your chest, heart pounding. “You’ve done that way too many times now. I’m starting to think you want to throw me onto the ground.”
“Lucas once promised he could catch me if I jumped into his arms.” Max says, then she points to a scar on her knee. “Turned out he couldn’t.” 
“Hey!” Lucas sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I really thought I could do it.”
Mike stretches. “Your fault for trusting him, Max.”
Lucas shoves him and the two start to wrestle on the floor. They’re a tangle of lanky limbs, knocking into Dustin who still hasn’t woken up yet. They roll on top of the boy, and he wakes up to Lucas’ knee in his face. “What the hell?”
Dustin joins the fighting now, and Robin throws a pillow at them. “Guys! It’s too early for this!”
They don’t listen. 
It takes a lot of pleading, negotiating, and bribes in order to break the fight up. It takes even longer to wrangle the kids out of Steve’s home, much to his dismay. They leave a mess of strewn popcorn all over the carpet and pillows missing feathers. You stay behind, offering to help clean the mess, and Robin rushes out an apology and happy birthday to Steve as she runs out the door to get to work. 
Soon it’s just you and Steve. You work around one another, anticipating each other’s next move, never getting in the way. Soft music plays from the record player that sits in the den. Steve puts on one of his father’s old records, gentle rock and delicate jazz. You hum to yourself, he hums with you, and it’s a peaceful morning.
Until Richard and May Harrington walk in.
Neither of you notice them at first. Steve is too busy spinning you around, playfully dipping you as the music comes to a grand crescendo. You’re laughing breathlessly, but soon your laughter turns into a yelp when Steve sees his parents standing in the doorway and drops you.
“Dad!” Steve immediately bends down to pick you up, endlessly apologetic. He ducks his head, eyes on you, though his body doesn’t turn from his father. “I’m sorry, angel. You alright?”
You reassure your boyfriend that you’re fine, more worried about the fact that you’re dressed in clothes from yesterday with horrendous bedhead meeting his parents for the first time. Richard eyes you in Steve’s arms. He has a look of disinterest on his face. “Son.”
“What, uh.” Steve clears his throat, curls a protective arm around your waist. He didn’t mean for this to happen. His parents were supposed to be gone until Tuesday. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here.” 
“Right.”
Father and son stand in front of one another. Neither speaks. Steve feels like a little boy again, scrutinized underneath his father’s intense gaze. Never good enough. Never worthy of anything other than berating and lectures. 
You wring your hands nervously, unsure what to do. The air is thick. Steve looks so much like his father, it’s almost uncanny. They have the same build, the same moles that dot along their handsome faces. Only his father is dressed in a suit, the lines in his face are hard, weathered. He’s who you picture Steve would’ve been, in a different universe where you were never his friend. 
May Harrington gave her son all of her delicate features. The soft turn of his nose. The plush, pink lips. His doe eyes, his smile. The only feature that separates her from her son is her honey blonde hair. She’s beautiful, elegant and poised, and when she steps towards you, you can smell lavender perfume. “You must be Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.” You’re quick to meet her where she stands. You’re nervous, you have to discreetly wipe your hand on your pants before shaking hers. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. Your banana bread is lovely.”
The woman smiles, it’s so much like Steve’s that you want to cry. “Thank you, dear.”
“Of course, and I apologize for meeting like this. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Richard makes a mean, gruff sound. He shakes his head, steps next to his wife. He doesn’t like you, you can feel it by the way he blocks his wife’s view of you. “Oh, no. I’m sure you didn’t.”
“Dad–” Steve steps forward as well, blocking his father’s view of you. He’s angry, his shoulder blades close together. He doesn’t like how the man is treating you; you’re too good for such cruelty.
“What did I tell you about bringing your hookups to the house, son?” Richard sneers, turning his nose up at you. That’s all he sees you as. Just another one of Steve’s flings, one of the girls from his past. 
“Y/N is not just some hookup,” Steve clenches his jaw, tries to steady his breathing. He doesn’t want to fight with his dad in front of you. Not when he was having such a good morning, spending his birthday with your hands wrapped around his neck and your giggles singing in his ears. “She’s my girlfriend, and I love her.”
Richard chuckles, he doesn’t believe his son. “Okay, you love her. I’m sure your mother and I will walk in on you with some new girl next week.”
“Dear,” May places a hand on her husband’s shoulder. She sees the way you shrink into yourself at the man’s words. The insecurity that he brings. She sees how her son’s eyes ignite with fury, she watches as he does whatever he can to put the flame out for her sake and your’s. “It’s Steve’s birthday today.”
“Is that why you insisted on coming home today?” Richard turns to her, she has his full attention now. His eyebrows are drawn together, annoyance paints his body. “You told me you had a board meeting tonight.” 
“Why don’t we talk about this upstairs?” May suggests, relieved that she’s turned her husband’s anger onto herself rather than her son. Richard sighs, but he doesn’t argue as he marches up the stairs without so much as a second glance towards you. When he’s gone, May smiles at you sympathetically. “I apologize for my husband’s behavior. We had a long flight, I’m sure he’s simply jetlagged.” 
“Yeah, that’s why he’s such an asshole.” Steve scoffs, tired of his mother’s excuses for her husband. He can be cruel to Steve, he doesn’t care. He’s been cruel to him his entire life. But if his father so much as breathes near you again, Steve will hurt him. 
Your hand reaches for Steve’s, sensing what he’s thinking. You return May’s smile, you’re not at all angry with her. “It’s okay, really. I was an unexpected guest, and I should go.”
Steve pulls you into his chest. “What, no–”
“You may leave, if you’d like.” His mother gently interrupts him. “Though I must admit, I really do wish to know you better. If you’d allow me to, that is.”
“I’d love that more than anything.”
“Then I will plan a dinner for the next time my husband and I are in town.” May tells you, admiring your honesty. She can see why Steve has become so infatuated with you. There’s nothing hidden within you; you wear your heart on your sleeve, your sincerity a welcomed rarity. She turns to her son, rests her palm delicately against his face. “Happy birthday, my beautiful boy.”
Steve leans into her touch, weak for his mother as any son is. You turn away, it doesn’t feel right to watch this moment between them. 
In the car Steve profusely apologizes for his father’s behavior. Over and over again, he laments how sorry he is and that you’re more than just some fling to him. “You’re everything to me, angel. I love you so, so much.”
“I know, honey.” You grab his hand that rests against the stick shift. His father’s words had hurt, but you knew that they weren’t true. Steve is your’s, he has been for longer than either of you realize. Nothing will ever undo the love he has for you, the foundation of trust it was built upon. “You’re everything to me, too.”
When Steve pulls into your driveway, you tell him to park and come inside. His birthday gift is in your room. You had planned to give it to him later tonight, but his parents’ unexpected arrival had soured things. “I know you have to go home, but…”
“I’ll never say no to you.” Steve’s already unbuckling his seatbelt to follow you inside. He greets your mother with a kiss to her cheek, ruffles Dustin’s hair as he sits at the dining table doing homework. His movements are easy, leisurely. You notice now how at home he is in yours, far from the boy who cowered before his father only twenty minutes ago. The realization is bittersweet. He deserves to feel at home in his own house, not just yours. 
Inside your room Steve sits on your bed and holds his hand out, eager. “Okay, wow me, Henderson.”
“You really know how to talk to a woman.” You tease him, rustling through your drawer to find the gift you’ve hidden. Steve is nosy, he’s been trying to find his gift for at least two weeks now. When you’ve found it, you clutch the gift in your hand and hold it behind your back. “Alright, you know the drill by now. Close your eyes.”
Steve complies with a smirk, biting back suggestive comments. He loves this tradition with you, making the other close their eyes before their gift. Something light is placed in Steve’s hand. It’s circular, sturdy. He thinks he can smell leather.
“Okay, open.”
In his hand is a bracelet. It’s a simple strip of leather, nothing embellishes it besides a button to secure it. Though it’s plain, Steve can tell that it’s expensive. The leather is supple, its color is dark and polished. The silver button that clasps the two ends together is heavy.
He loves it, he does, but he can’t help feeling like that there must be something more to it.
As if reading his mind, you gently prompt Steve to turn it over in his hands. “Look what’s on the inside, honey.”
He does, and his heart stops.
The leather has been stamped. The word constants is spelled out across the length of the band. It’s a hidden message, only for Steve to know, and while he’s sure you have your own explanation for why you chose the word constants, he loves it already. “Oh.”
You sit next to him and laugh softly. “You’re my constant, Steve. Everything in my life has changed, or will change, but you… You’ve always been there, I know you’ll always be there. With me. My love, my lucky charm, my constant.”
Tears well in Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t bother wiping them away, too busy admiring the bracelet in his hand. He can’t believe you’re real, that you’ve thought of this for him. That you see a future with him… It’s everything he could’ve asked for. A security he’s always longed to have. His entire life he’s been told he’s too much, too overwhelming, and yet you want him to stay anyways. 
“And you’re my constant?” He asks you, fingers grazing over the letters again.
You nudge his shoulder with yours. “Well, I’d like to think that I am.”
He laughs, wet and full of love, and he can’t take it anymore. Steve throws his arms over you and you collapse into your bed, laughing together as he presses his lips wherever they can reach. 
“You are,” he says in between kisses. Your laughter lights him. “You’re my constant, too.”
The autumn leaves fall and the trees are barren as winter arrives. 
You spend winter break trying to maintain your promise to Joyce. After finishing the hell that was applying to college, you have so much unexpected free time that at first you don't know what to do. But then her words echo in your mind, the promise to live the life that you deserve, so you start doing things for yourself.
Slowly you read through all the books in your room that you hadn't had time for before. You start running again in the mornings, the winter air crisp in your lungs. You and Dustin do homework together at the kitchen table, making sure neither of you get left behind. You try new recipes to bake, delivering the treats to the ones you love. It’s nice, rediscovering the pleasures you once had long before the Upside Down came into your life. 
Christmas comes and you do your annual rounds, delivering everyone’s favorite treats on Christmas Eve. It’s during your run to the Sinclair home that Lucas asks you to come inside to talk. 
“What’s up?” You ask him, unwrapping your scarf and warming your hands in your sleeves. Lucas gestures to his kitchen table, silently asking you to sit. When you do, he takes a deep breath and joins you. 
Something’s bothering him. You can see it in the way he carries a weight on his shoulders. How they droop as he sits, exhausted. You reach across the table and grab his hand, offering whatever comfort you can give him. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”
“It’s…” Lucas purses his lips, his breath shakes. “It’s Max. I’m–I’m worried about her.”
He tells you everything. He tells you how distant she’s been, more than she’s ever been before. He tells you how she’s missed dates he’s planned for her, how she refuses to talk to him anymore. She hasn’t been to any of the party’s hangouts, Mike and Dustin haven’t seen her ever since winter break started.
Max has had bad days, weeks, even months since losing Billy. But she’s never had the bad days without at least one good day following. To break the monotonous cycle of self-loathing and grief and guilt. She would always come back, even if for a moment, alive and bright and reminiscent of the girl had been. 
“I can feel her slipping away,” Lucas looks down at the table. He’s afraid that if he looks at you then he’ll start crying. He doesn’t want you to worry, he knows how much you already deal with and do for them, but he’s terrified. “I know… I know that you helped Will, after he was flayed. Do you think you could maybe talk to Max? Just… Remind her that we’re here for her? I can’t–I can’t lose her.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours, trying to stem the stream of tears he fought so hard to force down. Lucas loves Max with everything within him. Anyone can see that. You’d do anything to bring the girl back to him, to bring her back to all of you. “I’ll talk to her.”
I’ll keep an eye on her. Watch her when you can’t. 
Lucas hears it. He exhales, nods his head.
You leave. Max was the next one on your list of deliveries anyways. 
It’s nearing dusk by the time you get to the trailer park. You haven’t seen Max’s new home, she’s only recently moved. She had been too embarrassed to tell anyone that her mother lost their old house. The only reason you even know she moved in the first place is because Lucas and Dustin stalked her walking home. 
A dog barks as you bike past. Snow has started to fall, tomorrow will be a white Christmas.
“Oh, hello, Y/N.” Susan Hargrove’s skin is pale, her eyes sunken in when she answers the door. Her voice is thin, her frame is strained. The death has been hard on her, too. Billy’s father leaving only made everything worse. 
“Hi, Mrs. Hargrove.”
The woman winces. “Please, Mayfield will be fine.”
You immediately correct yourself, apologetic and ashamed, when Max’s voice calls from within the home. “Just let Y/N in, mom.”
Susan sighs, and you wish you could do more. Instead, all you can offer her is the container of coconut bites you’ve made for them. Max told you they remind her and her mother of California, and you always make sure to have some ready every week for them. Offer some semblance of joy in the gray of their lives.
Max sits at the kitchen table. Her head is down as she works on something. She has her walkman next to her. Susan leaves the two of you alone, excusing herself to go lay down after a long shift. 
You sit next to the girl and take a deep breath. This won’t be easy. Max is prideful, stubbornly independent, and has never accepted sympathy from anyone. You’ve always admired her fiery personality, but the fire has dimmed and the smoke is beginning to choke her. Talking to her will be like pulling teeth out. 
“Brought you your favorites.” You shake the container in your hands. It serves as a peace offering, almost a bribe to start the conversation. 
“Thanks.” Max doesn’t look up. 
You swallow, tuck your hair behind your ears. “Of course. I was doing my usual delivery rounds. I, uh. Stopped at the Sinclair’s.”
The pencil in Max’s hand freezes. Her knuckles tighten, though the shift is subtle. She’s always been too smart for her own good. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Erica likes my brownies. Mrs. Sinclair, too.”
“And Lucas?” She knows why you’re here.
“I made him chocolate chip cookies. You know how much he loves them.” Max doesn’t respond. Of course she knows how much Lucas enjoys chocolate chip cookies. She knows everything about him, but she doesn’t say anything and goes back to writing. Faintly you hear music coming from the walkman. You point at the device. “New song?”
“Kate Bush.”
“Oh.” This is going worse than you imagined. “Look, Max–”
She doesn’t waste any time. “I know Lucas sent you. I don’t care.”
“He’s just worried about you, we all are–”
“I’m fine.” The tip of the pencil snaps. “Shit.”
“Max.” You’re pleading with her to listen. Her skin is fluorescent now, paler than you’ve ever seen. The bags underneath her eyes are swollen, dark and ghostly. She’s lost weight. You can’t remember the last time you saw her eat. “Please.”
“What do you want me to do?” Though there’s anger in her voice, Max’s eyes plead with you, too. Her mask slips for just a moment, but you see it. Underneath her indifferent exterior, she’s just as terrified as everyone else is. She can feel herself fading, the guilt of Billy’s death slowly eats her alive. She doesn’t know what to do, though. How do you continue to live after death has infiltrated your home?
The chair beneath you scraps against the hardwood floor. You stand up, walk over to Max and kneel in front of her. You keep your movements slow, worried you’ll scare her away if you get too close too suddenly. “I think you should talk to someone, honey.”
Max turns away. She can’t. If she told anyone what goes on inside her head, they would never forgive her. You would never forgive her, and it would break her. 
Your hand falls to Max’s knee. The warmth from your palm combats the ice in her veins. You’re looking at her as if she’s worth something. As if she didn’t wish for her brother’s death. As if she hadn’t sent a grieving father into a spiral, a desperate mother into a trailer park. But Max allows your touch, so you try to get through to her again.
“You know, I was actually talking to Ms. Kelly a few weeks ago. The school’s guidance counselor.” She had met with you to discuss your grades and college options. When she had seen how you picked your nails until they bled, she suggested seeing her every few weeks. Alleviate some of your never ending stress. You had denied, uncomfortable with the idea. But maybe she could help Max. “She seemed nice enough. I’m sure she would be open to talking with you.”
“I don’t want to see some shrink.”
“Hey, I want to work with kids your age someday. Don’t call future me a shrink.” You poke Max’s leg playfully, and the corners of her mouth twitch. She doesn’t want you to see that it’s working. “C’mon. Have at least one meeting with her. When winter break ends, all I ask is that you try. For me and Lucas. We’re your favorites, after all.”
“If I agree, will it get you to shut up?”
You’re fine with this. It isn’t ideal, you aren’t sure Max will even actually try to open up to Ms. Kelly, but it’s a start. For too long now you’ve stayed silent, allowing Max to grieve on her own. Grief is hard, it takes and it takes and it takes. Yet it’s been almost six months and you’re not sure how much left grief can take from Max. “I think I can be okay with that.”
You’ll take whatever you can get. You’re worried. You got too caught up in your own life, you had gotten lost in your own haze of grief and anxiety. Missing Jonathan, grappling with change and growing up as you applied to college. You weren’t there for Max like you should’ve been.
But you’ll fix this. You always fix things. It’s what you do. It’s what you have to do. It’s how you love; you take care of those around you.
And who are you if you can’t?
Jonathan calls you high for the first time in late January. 
Though he doesn’t tell you that he’s high, you know. His words are slurred, slowed, incomprehensible. It’s late in California, even later in Indiana, and the stark feeling of guilt slices into your ribcage the same way the Demodog’s claw did. The feeling cuts deep into your skin, nicks your bone. 
“Jonathan?” You hope your voice brings him back to you. You try to cut through the smoke that fills his mind, that leaves him stumbling over his words. “Bee, can you hear me?”
“‘M here.” Jonathan sniffs, smacks his lips, yawns. “Where’re you? Can’t find you, bug.”
You close your eyes. He’s looking for you, and you aren’t with him. “I’m in Hawkins.”
“Thas’ far.”
“Yeah,” you choke out a laugh. It constricts in your vocal chords, but you can’t let Jonathan know how much it hurts to hear him so disoriented. “I’m sorry.”
“S’okay. California sucks.” He hiccups, you’re surprised he’s managed to call you tonight. Even in his drugged up state, he still somehow remembered to call. “Don’t think Nance will like it.”
He’s referring to the spring break trip. Nancy told you about it earlier today, how she and Mike will spend the week in California to see Jonathan and El. She had been a bit hesitant to tell you, afraid you’d be upset for not being invited, but you reassured her that it was okay. 
You’ve had a road trip planned with Jonathan ever since you were fifteen. The moment the two of you graduate, you’ll drive all across the country for one final adventure before college. 
Nancy can have spring. Summer will be yours. 
“She’ll love California because you’re there.” She talked about the trip nonstop today. Her glow had come back, momentarily, her eyes alight. She truly loves Jonathan, she misses him even more than you do. 
“Only disappoint her.”
“What do you mean?” You’re not sure where this is coming from. You know Jonathan is high, that his thoughts may not be coherent, but he sounds distressed about Nancy. You thought things had been good between them. They were planning a future together. 
“Is’ hard, with her.” Jonathan manages to get out, but his speech is becoming harder and harder to understand.
You frown. “What’s hard, bee?”
The line disconnects. Jonathan doesn’t bring the conversation up again, the next time you call. You don’t ask him what he meant. You don’t think you want to know. There had been something deeper behind his words.
Will calls you a few days later in tears. The kids are meaner in California than they are in Hawkins. They tease El, make her life hell, and he’s upset that he can’t do anything to stop it. He cries to you, his tears soak your face through the landline, and the guilt creeps back in. 
It will never truly leave.
You do your best to console him, offer him advice, but that’s all you can do. All you have are your words. Will and El are hours away, hundreds of miles separate them from you. It's nauseating, feeling so useless. For as long as you’ve known Will, you’ve always been able to protect him. To help him, dry his eyes.
You’ve always been there for your boys, for Jonathan and Will. For El. But you can’t get to them, they’re too far away, and it kills you. You’re sixteen again, trapped in Jonathan’s car and frantically trying to keep yourself together as everything around you falls apart. 
Steve becomes your lifeline. 
He always answers when you call. Every time Jonathan, high and lonely, hangs up your conversations, you call Steve. He answers, he hears the exhaustion in your voice, and he always sneaks in through your window later that night. He knows it’s the only way you’re able to sleep these days.
He sings to you when you wake up from a nightmare. They’ve become about Max, losing her. She’s only met with Ms. Kelly a few times, but you can tell that she already wants to stop. That you’re pushing her too far, pushing her away from you and everyone else. 
Steve takes you for drives when you get blisters from pacing your room, anxiously waiting for your college decision letters to come in. Soon your entire life will be decided for you by one single piece of paper. 
Two weeks before spring break, Jonathan calls you. He’s sober.
You can’t remember the last time you’ve spoken to him sober. The thought alone depresses you, makes you yearn for childhood again.
“I think Nancy wants me to come to Hawkins,” he tells you. “Would you… would you like that?”
More than anything.
You press the phone against your ear and imagine that it’s Jonathan’s hand instead. Your skin hasn’t forgotten how his felt against it. “Of course I want you to come to Hawkins, bee.” But it can’t be that easy, you know nothing ever comes easily. “Can you afford it, though? I–I mean, God. I miss you, you know that, but I know it’s been hard for your family these last few years.”
Jonathan’s head falls back against the wall behind him. You always understand. He hates it, sometimes. “It’s worth looking into if it means I get to see you and Nance.”
There’s an air of authority in Jonathan’s voice, as if he truly believes what he’s saying, and it surprises you. He’s taking initiative after months of floating away. Hope sparks within you, the cold hand of dread lessens its grip around your neck. 
“Well, I can’t argue with that logic.” You say. Jonathan laughs, you’ve missed the sound. It’s been so long since you last heard it. 
Conversation drifts after that. You tell him about the latest Spider-Man arc you’re reading, he inserts his own opinions, and it’s lovely. You haven’t had Jonathan like this in months, all to yourself, his smile aligned with yours. Sober, steady. 
The phone call with Jonathan reminds you of all the good that is still yet to come. 
College decision letters arrive next week. Your best friend might be visiting for spring break. Your boyfriend has planned a picnic for your anniversary tomorrow. You have your first meeting with Ms. Kelly the following day. It was your idea, figuring it was only fair that you see her since Max has agreed to keep going. 
And Joyce made you promise that you’d live your own life. You’re trying to get better, you really are. 
It just takes time. 
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ the taglist is closed.
⌑  taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking
@criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @cultish-corner @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @moonpascal @newyorkangelbaby @chervbs @poppet05 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @moon-flowerrs @estaticheart @dreamingofts18 @lanxsee @thecapricunt1616 @aheadfullofsteverogers
@angie2274 @xuimhao @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @cherrycherry19 @mamamakaylamorgan23 @slttygeto @alltoomay @hiraethavis @latenightreadingpdf @gayandfairycore @aliceespector @l0ca1ax010t1 @whosyourgnomie @luca-random-stuff @thaliagracesgf @ofallthechemicalboys @lucy-loaf @marrowfrog00 @isaidonyourknees @promnightbinbaby @prozacgooble @wen-oo @defnotbrooklyn @applepie972 @h4ewns @eugenique @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps
348 notes · View notes
softspace-fics · 1 month
Text
Senses
Tumblr media
A/N - it's been such a long week and I've missed posting so much, two requests currently in the making! I hope you guys enjoy whatever this turned into.
Masterlist - All my work!
Warnings ⚠️: Mentions of a mission, mentions of anxiety, mentions of a avengers party, let me know if I missed any!
Stucky (mainly bucky) x gn! Little reader
-------
If there was one thing that everyone in the tower knew, it was that you don’t touch bucky unless aloud. This even applied to you, even as his second partner along side Steve. The only one that was able to touch bucky without his life being in danger is Steve, and thats just because Bucky could almost like, sense him.
You felt a little sad that you may never have that with Buck, but you didn’t show it, atleast you did your best not to. You knew that if he ever did warm up to you, you’d open it with loving arms and let him know that he doesn’t have to be afraid.
Steve in a way, knew an saw how you felt. He would watch as your eyes showed how you wished that you could hug buck surprisingly as he did, or just to be able to move into rooms silently as you were known to do.
Bucky had a feeling about it but he couldnt put his hand on what was bothering you. The super soldiers knew you like the back of their hand. This is why when you became their partner, and little, it was like a part of them had been completed. 
You’d always announce yourself coming into rooms when around bucky, or make some sort of noise to make sure you didn't spook him. Bucky thought it was a sweet gesture, something you had been doing since you met him. Steve just knew it couldn’t only be that.
One day when all of the avengers were hanging out, you and bucky decided to hang back at your room in the tower. Bucky wasn't feeling the greatest, and in all honesty you weren’t either. Your anxiety had been spiking all day. You barely wanted to even have to get out of bed.
You were laying on the couch watching a movie when you heard bucky shuffle around in your guy’s shared bedroom. Nothing unusual, so you ignore it.
Until it happens again, and again, and maybe even a 4th time. That's when you decide its worth going to at least check out. You stand up and head towards your bedroom when you what bucky mumbling, and then making noise again.
“Bucky?” you open the door quietly as you speak, trying to figure out whats going on with him.
“No- No I don’t-” Bucky mumbles, his sleeping form crumpled in your bed.
“Bucky? Bucky are you okay?” You ask as you walk over to him, trying to gently wake him as he appears to be having a nightmare.
“No-No You can’t- You can’t have them!” Bucky screams as he sits up in bed, looking around with fear and worry in his eyes.
“Bucky?” You sit down in front of him, looking at him with concern, but avoiding touching him.
That is until he literally drags you into his lap, crying as he holds you tightly. He’s mumbling thank god and jesus christ over and over again, you softly hug him back, burying close into his embrace.
“I-I thought they got you. I couldn’t save you.”
“Im here buck.. I promise no ones hurt me.”
He sighs and gently kisses your cheek before wrapping you in the blanket and pulling you under with him.
He plays with your hair until you inevitably fall asleep on top of him.
When steve arrives home, bucky has you practically strapped to him with his own limbs, his arms are tightly secured around your torso and his legs are tangled with yours as you both sleep, soundly.
You were fond of the experience, this was the first time bucky had let you help him through a nightmare. You were honestly glad he was starting to open up.
Something you hadn’t realized was that bucky had the urge for you to just jump on him like steve did. Ever since the nightmare hes realized how much you made sure to let him know you were there, it was as if it was to make sure he didn’t attack you. You never touched him unless he saw you first, and you would always announce yourself in one way or another when walking into somewhere where he was, and you’d always leave him notes or messages to let him know if you'd be home at an odd hour.
With steve he never has to guess or know, he can feel steve a mile away, and hes beginning to be able to do the same with you. He can hear your small quiet footsteps, the way your keys jingle in your pocket, your breathing patterns, everything was starting to tell him that he was safe around you.
Weeks pass of this bothering him, he just wants you to not feel like you can just exist without him having to necessarily know.
The first time you don’t announce yourself is when you get home at 3:40am from a in-house mission. Your half regressed, and feel actually disgusting, the in-house being you had to join clint in the vents, and you really never want to go back.
You quietly enter the house, and slowly drop your stuff on the table, before opening the fridge and grabbing one of your pre-made juice sippys.
“Can’t hurts” you quietly mumble to yourself, your regression starting to take over.
You turn towards the living room and you see bucky standing in the door way, watching over you.
“Pa- Uhm, Bucky?” You ask, surprised.
“How did you know I was home?”
“I can hear you from practically anywhere, my senses know. You sure you want juice? I could make you up some milk?” Bucky smiles softly.
He sees the grime slimed on your face, and the dust from wherever you were on your clothes, but he sees you most importantly.
You give him a knowing look, before you slowly lose the facade of being big and walk over to him, burying your face in his chest and letting him take the exhaustion.
You didn’t need to announce yourself for him to know you needed him, and you’d be able to learn soon enough that you wouldn't have to announce yourself at all. 
_________
Tumblr media
195 notes · View notes
livfastdieyoung69 · 4 months
Note
Guys im in my mjf era!
Mjf x reader
Mjf being his usual douchebag self but reader being his soft spot yk? And someone using reader against him to get under his skin any of his old feuds would work for this so i dont mind 👀 just LOVE a protective feral man with very little regard for himself when it comes to the people he loves 🤭
HIGH FLYING BIRD
Sting had been your idol for as long as you could remember. For decades, all you ever wanted was to be like Sting. Now here you are- on the same damn roster as him. You worked with him, by his side, every damn week. Your few years in AEW had already given you so much more experience and advice than you could’ve hoped for, especially from Steve. The only downfall of working side by side with Sting was having to work with Darby who hated, much like many others, your partner.
Speaking of Darby, he bursted into catering with a scowl on his half-painted face. Sighing into your styrofoam cup of a crisp Dr.Pepper as he plopped down into the seat between you and the beloved man himself, Sting, you turned to face him.
”Yes, Darbs?” Of course, even with his bitching over your choice of a lover, he was still a friend. Sometimes. Darby scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms and practically pouting in his seat.
”How in the hell are you with Maxwell? What do you see in him? Or is it, like, what you don’t see? Are you legally blind, Birdy?” It was your turn to scoff- at his remarks and the nickname. It’d caught on after you showed up to AEW and started doing crazy high-flying shit no one even knew was possible on day one.
“We’re not having this conversation again, Darby.”
“Yes we are. Is this a Stockholm syndrome thing? Blink twice if you need help.” Before you’re able to do anything besides point a finger in his face, you’re interrupted.
“Alright guys, let's just calm down here, please.” Steve- Sting- tries to calm the situation. Darby gives you a smug look from getting away with his remarks while you glare at him wholeheartedly.
”Talkin’ about me again, huh?” MJF leans over you, his usual asshole smirk on as his hands slide up your shoulders and lightly grasp at your sore neck, barely massaging it. Sore from saving Darby in your last tag team match with a dive through a table, actually. (And no. He didn’t say thank you. Steve did though.)
”Hey, baby.” You look up at him, glowering face replaced with a gentle smile that makes Darby cringe and grumble under his breath.
“Got somethin’ to say, dead boy?” Max asks from behind you, hands still working your neck as the atmosphere tenses even further. Steve tries to calm everyone again, but it doesn’t seem to be working as Darby stands from his chair, coming basically toe to toe with Max.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. You’re the worst damn decision they’ve ever made in the almost decade I’ve known them. I don’t even want to know how you’re manipulating them into this, but I’m sick and tired of it.” Darby’s voice keeps growing, filling the silence of the now quiet catering room, everyone watching their argument. Steve stands up, placing a hand on Darbs shoulder to try and pry him back. You might’ve gotten up to stop Max, but honestly, you just didn’t feel like dealing with this anymore. “All you’re going to do is leave them behind when you get whatever you want from them, and we’ll have to pick the pieces back up.”
Once again, Steve's attempt doesn’t work, and Max steps back into Darbys space, now quite literally toe to toe, chest to chest.
“I swear to God, the next time you suggest I would ever even imagine hurting them in anyway whatsoever, I will rip your fucking head off and let Wardlow play with it.” With a sigh, you get up from your chair and try to put a little distance from the two by pushing at Max’s chest but he won’t budge, he won’t even look at you. “Only reason I haven’t done it already is ‘cause of how much they like your little daddy over there. See how that works? If I hurt you, it’d hurt my Bird and I’d rather die than dream that into existence so I try my hardest not to think about hurting you. Let's keep it that way, capisce?”
Before Darby is able to reply, Max finally gives into your pushing and turns to leave catering, you in tow.
“Max,” You softly call for him, trying to keep up. “Max, baby,” You stumble to grab his hand and he finally comes to a stop. “Do you really have to keep threatening my friends? It’s really no wonder they don’t like you.” You teased him with a small smile, grabbing his hands in yours.
“Uh, Kris likes me, thank you very much, toots.”
”That doesn’t count, Kris just gets everything. Everyone else is dumb.” You lean back and forth on the ball of your heels, his hands keeping you stable before he gets sick of it and pulls you forward into his chest. “It’d be really nice if you could just be good for a little bit, please. Just a couple days is all I’m asking for here.”
He rolls his eyes, and gives a huge, fake groan up to the ceiling. He knew it’d make you laugh, he always knew what would. You pull your hands from his grasp and bring them up to his face, bringing him to look back at you.
“Be a good boy for me, hm?” You whispered, thumbs rubbing gently across his face. Judging from the blush covering his cheeks, it seems like you’d finally found a way to tame him.
Tumblr media
Mwah ha ha ha this isn’t really what you asked for but kinda sorta they were rivals at one point so ???
The one funky word is the word that basically means do you understand (usually pronounced like capeesh) but I’m Italian and couldn’t bare to spell it wrong anyways he def says that and he also would def call you toots idc it’s canon in my heart
Also have no clue where the whole bird thing came from but it came and the title is the Jefferson Airplane song
Anyways kinda really like this one its cute
62 notes · View notes
throwing-in-the-towel · 4 months
Note
when johnny dies you said pony is "fully disasociating" can i please have an explaination about how that plays out? Ive been imagining Soda attempting to comfort him (hugging him from the side or whatever) and Pony just staring blankly into the distance and not responding to any of Soda's attempts.
But im interested to know what it actually looks like :)) actually I'd love to see an in-depth for how everyone reacts to Johnny's death if possible
you’d be exactly right with your imagining of what happens when soda tries to comfort him! he literally just sits and stares into space, completely unresponsive. he is like this for the rest of the show (except when he narrates dally’s death) until “stay gold” happens.
here’s a list for reactions to johnny’s death:
pony: holds johnny’s hand as he dies, “johnny? johnny? no no no no no” and puts his head in his hands. soda tries to hug him here but pony pushes him away and sits on the floor. then soda tries again, which is when pony is essentially catatonic.
dally: goes almost right into “little brother,” soda also tries to help dally but dally almost reacts like he might hit soda, completely hysterically crying all during “little brother” and until the end of his performance.
soda: crying pretty hard, trying to comfort literally anyone but is mainly focused on ponyboy.
darrel: he’s standing in the back of the hospital room when johnny dies and he kind of just keeps to himself. you can see him looking at soda and pony, but he doesn’t go over to them.
two-bit: sits on the floor by johnny’s hospital bed, crying but not as hard as soda. kind of seems like he’s in disbelief.
steve + ace: paired them up because they’re together this whole scene! steve also tries to reach out to dally who is also met with anger, then he stands back and him and ace are hugging each other.
59 notes · View notes
glennquackmire · 2 months
Text
My hunger games au lore that im acting so odd over because I keep getting flashbacks to the other post
Tumblr media
Ik i said I would make this into a video but it was getting to like 10 minutes long 😭 so here's a really shortened version of some of it OK SO
-The curtis brothers live in DISTRICT 7 instead because I like the idea of them being lumberjacks it's funny and also because the Curtises knowing alot about plants and trees and stuff is kind of relevant
-Their parents died in an altercation with some peacekeepers. Is that still lazy?? Yea but hopefully not as lazy
-Ponyboy still genuinely believes Darry sees him as a burden and despises him so he is under the impression that Darry is going to try and kill him the second they get into that arena so naturally he tries to get as far away from him as possible for most of the games.
-instead dally and johnny are from district 12 which I THINK fits better for them??? Johnny still has the same kind of schtick as in the original post where he believe he doesn't have a shot at winning which he's not really coping well with, but dally I kind of changed its not that he thinks he can or can't win its more that he doesn't want to. He's super mad the two of them have been put into this situation and doesn't want to conform to the opressive system the capitol has put in place to keep the district peoples lives being used as entertainment I guess. But I don't really know if it's in a "i want to start a revolution" way or not I guess.
-Tim I mostly added because I like him.I'm a tim stan. He's from district 8 for the same reason the curtis brothers are from district 7, I like the idea of him being really good at sewing. I'm still on the fence on whether I wanna add Angela or Curly as tributes too but as it stands tim is the only one that has been reaped out if the three of them. He's really desperate to get back for this reason because he knows without him his siblings would be left on their own. He's also really really smart in this au so he makes it super far into the games.
-The socs respectively are from Districts 1, 2 and 4 because them being the careers makes sense to me. Like the advantages that the careers have in the games just kind of aligns with the advantages the socs have in LIFE. Does that make sense????? Idk I might be talking out of my ass here 😭. The combinations of the socs have changed around alot but I keep going back to Randy and Marcia in 1, Cherry and Bob in 2 and Paul and Beverly (from the musical !! Its so good go listen to it) in 4.
-Steve and Twobit I added because I think they're a funny duo and they're from district 6 (get it cause it's the transportation district). I really don't have much to say about them honestly I have a little bit so if u wanna hear about them let me know !! Originally it was gonna be sodapop and Steve but I couldn't find a way for it to make sense. Maybe I'll add him in and say he's not related to darry and ponyboy or something I don't know. I hate leaving him out though ily soda.
-Scout is still here (hi scout) but she's used as a bit of a plot device now lol
-the arena is a huge forest, but its also got some really mountainous areas
-there IS mutts now but they're let loose about 2 thirds of the way through and aren't around for very long. The fire is still there as well because mostly i just enjoy drawing fire.
-I think (?) That's everything, I'll keep the deaths and the other stuff that happens in the arena for another post because this is already kind of long I think
-if you want to hear more you can totally message me !! I love talking to people or u can use the ask box I would literally love either of these but obviously no pressure 😭
-I have a BUNCH of drawings done for this au like so many
Anyway I think the moral of the story is not being a good writer and 3 days of being awake are not a good combo lol
36 notes · View notes
bleedingoptimism · 1 year
Text
Hello!!! I get writers block lol. I'm not sure if I can help but......
I always scroll through fan art and usually something pops out. Like seeing Eddie turn into a bat is always fun to play around with. Or Steve just carrying Eddie around as if he's not a grown man.
Anyways I wish you well!!! And hope you find something to get you back in the swing of things <3&lt;3<3
--ok so i got this ask, and i accidentally deleted it and lost who send it, im sooo sorry, it was so lovely too, i feel like an idiot! I hope you get to see this one, whoever you are.
Eddie, literally coming back from the dead had been a very pleasant surprise for everyone, especially for Dustin. Eddie coming back on the wrong side of the fight not so much, especially for Dustin.
It's only a few days later after they found out, they've seen Eddie a couple of times, standing behind Vecna, paler, bloodier, sharper.
He hadn't talked to them, no matter how much Dustin had screamed his name and he had actually swiped one of his clawed hands at Steve when he tried getting nearer.
There's been a lull in the fight, everyone going home to regroup, clean up, and rest for a bit, Steve just got home after leaving a very distressed Dustin with his mom. He didn't want to leave him, but he really needed to clean up and sleep, it had been days.
After a hot shower, he puts on some boxers and an old shirt and falls on his bed, only to spring back up because there's something under his sheets.
He quickly scrambles and grabs the sheets lifting them up and finding a... bat? There's a bat sleeping on his bed. It's not huge, but it's not one of the small ones he's used to seeing either. It's got a round snout and it's kind of fluffy looking, cute even.
Whispering a very heartfelt 'What the fuck' Steve grabs the towel he was drying his hair with and wraps the bat carefully in it. He should've thought about it beforehand though because he ends up holding a towel-wrap burrito of a bat in his arms like a baby and has no idea what to do with it.
He should've opened the window or grabbed a box or something, he's looking around the room for something to help him when the bat stirs and Steve looks at it and the bat's eyes, the very big, chocolate brown bat's eyes, open huge and he 'meeps' cutely before a cloud of black and red smoke explodes out of nowhere and suddenly the weight in Steve's arms becomes much heavier and bigger and when the cloud dissipates he sees he's not holding a cute bat anymore, oh no, he's holding an Eddie, a very naked Eddie in his arm bridal style.
And Eddie's big brown eyes look at him and fill with tears, "Steve!" he says and he wraps his arms around Steve's neck and holds him close, "I'm so sorry I swapped at you! I had to pretend! I couldn't let him suspect! Oh god! Dustin! The look on his face!"
Steve doesn't even hesitate to hold him closer, lets Eddie bury his face in his neck, and sushes him as Eddie breathes him in, slowly calming down,
"Shh, it's okay, you are here now. I got you, we'll figure it out, I got you..."
195 notes · View notes
stevebabey · 2 years
Note
CONGRATULATIONS RUBY!!! You're one of my favorite authors so I trust that you'll make something amazing out of this request (if you like it and feel like writing it, no pressure)
❤️‍🔥 with “Nobody in the world has hands this soft.”
just a little steve hand appreciation blurb (bonus points if you include comparing hands with him!!!)
M!!!! AHHH THANK U ANGEL!! im literally so :')) rn u are so very talented so it really means the world for me to hear u like what i write!! your bonus point suggestion like shaped this whole blurb im so glad u included it & omg its the first to break 1k+ words. i went for mutual pining besties bcos i've only written established relationship so far ! enjoy my dear!!! <3
You can’t believe you’re listening to advice from a 14-year old.
It feels like a new low. The idea that you can’t figure out the flirting thing on your own combined with the fact it’s your kid friend Dustin who seems to have a mountain-load of advice makes you feel— well, less than stellar.
But times are tough. And shit, it’s not actually bad advice.
Besides, despite Steve being your best friend, you’ll admit Dustin and him are close as well. Close enough that you made Dustin swear not to rat out your feelings to Steve at the first opportune moment.
He’d scoffed, then very reluctantly agreed. Seemed miffed you wouldn’t let him play matchmaker. Then set to work formulating a perfect plan on how you were to woo Steve — though he insisted you really didn’t need to because Steve was already well and truly obsessed with you.
“Honest!” He had said, eyes bright, and with that familiar cocky smile like he knew more than you. Which, in this case, might be true.
“Steve’s crazy for you, I can tell. He once gave this whole talk about,” Dustin waved his hands around. “Electricity. It’s a whole thing with him. Just trust me, you guys have it.”
Which leads to the here and now. You’re in the passenger seat of Steve’s beemer, the drive-in screen glowing ahead of you, just out the windshield. It’s night time, the dark lit up by dozens of shiny neon signs dotted about around the drive-in keeping you cozy in the car.
There’s an advertisement for Scoops Ahoy! ice-cream, all red, white, and blue, nautical symbols in every corner on a board to your right; a crimson and mustard coloured hot-dog stand with bright lit bulbs around it and a comically large weiner atop it. Beside it is a less glammed up, but nevertheless, trusty popcorn stand.
One of the buckets from there sits between you two, balanced between the seats. Steve seems to be unaware of your inner turmoil, his interest in the film properly piqued as you debate internally on Dustin’s advice. The film is miles away to you, worrying your bottom lip as you reconsider Dustin’s words.
“Just, like... find a way to touch his hand. No, wait- compare hand sizes! That’s like the oldest flirt in the book.” He’d nodded with enough fervor you nearly didn’t question him. Nearly.
Narrowing your eyes at him, you’d asked. “And where did you hear that?”
“Suze.” He’d said plainly. “And Suzie said she heard it from the girls at one of her camps. And it worked on me, so it’ll work on Steve. He’s simple!”
So, how do you go about this? You’re not sure there’s a natural way to ask to compare hand sizes. This feels like a flirt you’d do if he was just a handsome stranger at a party and you had a couple tequila shots on your side for encouragement. Leaned against a wall, sultry giggles and seductive touches; that seems more fitted for the flirt you’re about to try.
But you’re Steve’s best friend, not a stranger, and there’s certainly no liquid courage in your veins. No party. Just you, armed with more butterflies in your stomach than you can count and the advice of a 14-year old. God, you’re screwed.
You steel yourself and steal a glance at Steve. He’s in that grey shirt you like, long sleeved with just two buttons up the top. Both of them are undone.
You feel a bit peaky at how it makes you flush, seeing a flash of his chest. Briefly, you wonder if he’s worn the shirt because he knows it���s one of your favourites. The thought provides no relief to your nerves.
You fix your eyes forward and miss the way Steve glances to check on you, a smile toying at his lips.
Coincidentally, when he reaches for the popcorn, so are you — and your hands brush in the middle, burning hot, and you startle at the touch. Steve’s already apologising, pulling his hand but in a moment, you see it clearly there; your segue.
“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” You comment, with a quiet chuckle to seem casual, shifting yourself to face him better. Your stomach turns over with nerves and you have to force yourself to meet his eye.
You raise your hand a bit, palm facing him. “See?”
Steve’s pauses, only for a moment, but it’s enough to send your heart rocketing. Just as you’re about to retract your hand and hope to hide your crumpled pride, embarrassment stinging at your chest, Steve grins.
He chuckles and twists in his seat to face you, unfurling his hand and extending it out towards your own.
He wavers, hesitating just short of pressing his hand against yours and when your eyes dart up to his face, your stomach tightens up a bit more at what you find. Nervous, you think giddily, he’s nervous.
In another second the expression is gone and he presses his hand flush against yours.
“I think you might have the world’s smallest hands,” He jokes, curling his fingers over the top of yours just to prove the point. He’s wrong but compared to his large hands, you can see why it certainly might seem that way.
“I think you just have huge hands, Harrington,” You remark, enjoying the feeling of his hand against yours far too much.
The butterflies in your stomach have evolved into something bigger — some sort of lovebird that pecks at your heart and leaves it bleeding in your chest. The beat of its wings gets louder every second Steve doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in closer.
“Nope, it’s your hands, 100 percent.” He nods along, lips quirked into an amused smile. The film continues unnoticed, just flashes of light that illuminate the side of his face. Subconsciously, you lean closer into his space, nearly close enough that you could lean over and lay one of him. If you wanted.
Steve continues with a tease, “I’m serious! Nobody in the world has hands this small.”
“Nobody in the world has hands this soft.” You counter with a grin. It’s true, Steve’s hands aren’t at all like how you’d expected; instead of calloused and rough, they’re supple and soft. Like a lover, not a fighter.
It takes a moment to realise your slip. Your heart stutters and Steve’s eyes turn a little wide. His cheeks flush and the only comfort is the obvious delight on his features, even as he blushes pink. His eyes dart to your lips. You hold your breath.
“Yeah?” He asks and licks his lips. “I- I’ve, uh, heard— well, some would say the same about my lips.”
It’s not nearly as smooth as you’ve seen him be, words a bit fumbled. He screws his eyes shut for a moment, gathers his courage, then keeps going. His voice is quiet, eyes watching you closely. “Softest... yeah, softest in the world s’what they’ve said...”
If by some terrible tragedy you’ve misread this and he’s not asking for a kiss, you’ll happily let the ground swallow you up after this. But with the nervous gleam in his eye, his pink lips, and hand against yours, you think you like your odds.
You close your eyes, lean in, and think of luck.
And even if it was just a line, you have to agree; these are the softest lips you’ve ever kissed, and maybe in the entire world.
join the celebration <3!
457 notes · View notes
cyberkitty1 · 1 year
Text
Part 3 Twin AU
inspo : @moodysunflowerbaby
you have only been able to think about your last reaction with them. was that the last time you would talk? will yoi ever be friends again? are they ok? why couldn’t i have been a better friend? it plagued tour mind, flying above you like a storm cloud. you wanted to talk with them but how could you? there was nothing you could think of to fix this mess.
you were sitting in your room watching a movie when you hear a quite nock on your door. absentmindedly you call “come in” you didnt even turn to see who it was. “ hey” you heard behind you causing confusion. your parents never say “hey” and the voice was oddly familiar? you turn to see miles and mylo standing with a plastic bag in hand.
all you could do was stare “ could we talk?” miles asked. you were still caught off guard so you simply nodded pausing the movie and sitting up. the both take a seat on the edge of the bed. you sat in silence for what felt like forever till you heard mylo sigh “ im sorry for jumpin to a conclusion the way i did, i felt the a jerk the moment i left. you onyl wanted us to past with the best score and if miles could have helped i should have been open to the idea. im sorry” he says sincerely gazing into your eyes searching for what you could have been feeling.
“ im so sorry as well i had no right to say that, i was upset and i just didn’t know how to deal with my emotions i didn’t mean to upset you, or take it out on you could you forgive me, forgive us?”
you stay silent “ why didnt you just tell me about what happened, i would have been there for you guys. i thought thats what friends do for each other i tell you guys whats going on with me but the moment i ask about you its like im not allowed to know. and miles you asked me if i wanted to hang out after school and literally stood me up? and then i saw you hanging out with some blond girl hours later? why would you do that?”
you say with pain lacing your voice. mylo was kind of shocked he had no idea about this. miles sighs “ i habnt seen her in a long time we were just catching up and i didnt mean to forget i was stressed and busy im so so sorry.”
you couldn’t forgive him just like that… could you? “ it really hurt. and i don’t deserve to be treated like that, but if the both of you will be honest with me” you pause “ we can be friends again” you say with a soft smile “ thank you we appreciate it, and so will our mom” miles laughs “ oh so she made you guys come here? i knew it there is no way you came here willingly.” they laugh before realizing what they brought “ oh and we bought you these on the way here” mylo says handing you a bag of your favorite snacks “ thank you, you guys didn’t have to do this” “ wellllll we kind of did” miles says before scratching his neck.
“ so we good right?” mylo asks “ yea were good”
the end
btw you end up with mylo having a happy ever after 😊
.
.
.
🏷️: @soseoulol @shoyofroyoyoyo @pandoragalora @miles-42-morales @heavisdelulu @lilcassipuff @levanneisdumb @thebaddest @sussybaka10 @itsznanabanana @malllywally @missyysyx @c4nth3lp1t @sgmianne @miles4hour @ulovejayy @onginlove @buckleyverse @lexixiii @swaqlover @yoursidehismain @florencepughswife030196 @lethycia @edgyficuselastica @druiggf @onsimpshii @lovely-horror-show @vivsamortentia @leighs-gallery @remuslupinsno1slut @steve-harringtons-bitch @shurisbbymama @bunnybabylovesstuff @karmascute @c4rine @janaeby @mookiebutt @paraccosm @zkristuz @reflectionsinrealtime @mindymeeksrules @nagi3seastorm @popeheywardssecretgf @be3_Fl0w3er @piopio @hoodypunpurri @hiyoo-o @enchanting-violet @fiannee @itsnotino @inluvwithneteyam
also i will be deleting the post regarding the anonymous hater because my page is supposed to be filled with happy thoughts and POSITIVITY!!
i also feel me replying gave them a confidence boost or something and i don’t want then to attack anyone else.
160 notes · View notes
we-out-here-simping · 3 months
Text
pt. 1: Manic pixie dream girl
(s.h. x desi!fem!reader)
Tumblr media
warning/tags: use of (y/n), she/her pronouns used, based in 2010s, mention of cheating, bad parents, arguments, alcohol, mention of homophobia, toilet jokes (literally. i apologize), everybody is atleast a lil bicurious (except robin ofc)
a/n: and it starts!! i know i rreally kept yall waiting on this one and i probs will continue to do so (oops) im just out here trying to teach yall about delayed gratification lol soz
this fic went in crack fic territory for a bit of this chapter (yes the toilet museum is an actual place) i swear i don't know why my fics end up having potty humour sometimes I'm sorry
word count: 6.3k
series masterlist
masterlist
[Challa]
The last time Steve Harrington went on a vacation was with his parents when he was thirteen.
When he turned fourteen, his dad told him to focus more on school and sports and stopped bringing him around.
And sure, maybe it was also because during that past vacation, Stanley Harrington was found with screwing around with his secretary by his wife. Steve didn't remember much of it; he was hiding in the other room when the shouting began. Thankfully the walls muffled most of it.
it was after that vacation, things changed, Steve finally started to see through the cracks in the image his family always put up– the picture-perfect family. The well manufactured family photos hanging throughout his empty house tried their best to hide everything ugly. He started to see how in the photographs, his dad refused to stand closer to his mom, how his mom didn’t smile.
The expression on his father’s face that closely resembles a scowl, as if he was forced to take a picture with a business partner and not his own wife and son. The expensive dress his mom wore along with her makeup done perfectly. The grey bags under both their eyes.
Finally, himself– hair shorter than it is now because his dad always told him a real man never lets it grow past his ears, all slicked down and brushed aside, his expensive suit that made him better dressed than any other thirteen year old in town and his teeth stretched in what his mom called his ‘million dollar smile’.
It was after that vacation, that his mom stopped trusting his dad, and Steve didn't blame her– he stopped trusting him too. from that point on, Steve's mom would always go with his dad for his business trips. He tried not to think about if his dad ever saw that girl again.
Things changed. His mom, who had always loved gardening, hired a guy to take care of the flowers instead. the flowers were never as bright as they were when she used to take care of them. And sure, she had always liked wine, but now, Steve couldn't recall when he didn't see her with a bottle next to her or with the twig of wine glass twisting between her fingers. 
Things changed. They are tired now, both of them.
So yeah, he didn't have the fondest memories of vacations. 
But when his two best friends, Robin Buckley, and Eddie Munson suggested a trip before the latter leaves for a band tour he had managed to land, Robin gets into her new college and he himself gets ready for his dad's work– Steve just couldn't say no.
Currently they were in a random shop of the airport. Steve's legs are stiff from the long flight, same with his neck. if it was socially acceptable to lie like a puddle between the aisles of a store in an airport, he would do it.
“Robs, how long is this going to take?” Steve asks. 
she ignores them as she cards through travel brochures and books, her back to the two boys. Steve adjusts his hold on the heavy basket, the thing filled to the brim with random snacks and some alcohol because the in-flight meal really was not it, plastic of the handle digging into his palm.
“Just pick one and let's check out already.”
“No.”
Steve once again readjusts his hold on the basket, hoping that the robin's crankiness is because of the long flight and not because she is still mad at him, “why?”
“Because someone has to plan where we are going to go. And neither of you two are too keen on it–”
"Don't drag me into this Buckley-" Robin shoots eddie a stern glare before he could even finish his sentence. He clears his throat before excusing himself from the aisle. The wheels of the suitcase he carried squeak behind him as they roll over the clean tiles of the airport.
Steve sighs– yep, she was still mad at him, “Robs..”, he trails off, hoping she spares him a glance. when she doesn't and instead continues to flip through the glossy pages of the thin book, he speaks up, “Hey, Robin.”
He hears her sigh. “Here", She tosses the books in the basket he had been holding and makes a beeline towards the cashier without sparing him a single look, "let’s just go.”
[Ek akela is sheher mein]
The sky is in this inbetween of day and evening with grey clouds above them while they load their luggage into the cab.
Eddie sits upfront, his frizzy hair now in a bun. Steve sits in the back with Robin, hoping to strike up conversation with her but the pair of headphones over her ears don't let him do so. Steve sighs, he can tell that she isn't listening to music, but they make it pretty clear she doesn't want to have a conversation.
The windows are cranked open, they have dried up water streaks– it might have rained not too long ago. The asphalt is glistening, reflecting the yellow streetlamps and the red taillights. The cab driver drives like Eddie– a bit too fast for Steve’s liking. Tires splash murky rainwater into little mesmerizing sprays when bikers drive through the puddles, surely wetting some of the passersby with the dirty water. Steve doesn't think of the dirty laundry those people would have to do though, or the showers those people have to take. Instead, he focuses on the sound the water creates, ringing against the metal of the underside of the car, a satisfying sound.
The cab driver takes so many turns, Steve lost count after the third one. A song plays on the radio, an old song, he can tell by the static and that accompanies the singer, the crackle at the beginning of the song. He doesn't know what the man sings in the song, it is quiet with its percussion, delicate with the strings. Steve catches Eddie absentmindedly tapping his fingers on his knee. 
Steve looks over the console, it reads 106.4 FM. They're stuck in traffic when the song fades off. two voices come on, who Steve assumes are the hosts. They talk amongst themselves, joke, laugh, yet they speak with a perfect cadence that makes him think they've done it for ages. By the time the traffic gets moving, another song starts playing, this one more chipper than the last one.
The driver weaves through the crowd, making sure to use his horn more than is necessary. when he turns into a lane, Its a tight fit, the car and the road, yet somehow, he manages to maneuver the vehicle around the lamp post and random wrongly parked bikes.
The entire time they are checking into the hotel, Robin stands separately, flipping through the magazines near the sofa of the waiting area. Steve and Eddie fill in details and she only speaks up when asked for an id card. The staff helps them take their luggage to their rooms. Robin wordlessly goes into her room. 
It is when Steve is taking off his shoes, Eddie jests, "what a scene ain't it Harrington?" Looking up, Steve finds the older boy holding the curtains wide open, the window faces a brick wall, despite being promised a good view. Steve doesn't say anything, he breathes out what can only be described as a half-hearted chuckle.
“What do I say to her?" Steve asks, running his hands over his face.
“Don’t ask me,” Eddie shakes his head before hanging his jacket inside the closet, “it's you two who have the whole platonic soulmate shit going on, I'm just a third wheel over here”, he mumbles rather dryly, heading towards the bathroom, the door closing behind him.
...
Robin's room was right in front of theirs-- room 105. Steve knocks on the wood. The door swings open after a few seconds, and there is Robin in comfier clothes, makeup taken off and a deep furrow between her brows, “hey.”
“You plan on being mad at me for all of this vacation?”
“...No, but you make it really easy”, she rolls her eyes opening the door a bit more so he could come in.
“Yeah… I’m sorry”, he apologises with a small grin as he slips in.
“I know dingus”, she chuckles a little, closing the door.
he looks around the room, “Dude, this room is so much better”, this was definitely more spacious than the one he and Eddie were in, “Or maybe that’s ‘cause mine has Eddie in it.”
She holds up the bottle of vodka they had picked up at the store earlier, “don't mind if I do”, Steve makes grabby hands at the bottle, grinning when she passes it to him. He twists open the cap and pours it into the glasses she holds up that already had some water in them.
the corners of her lips curl up as well, “mine has somewhat of a balcony too”, she tells him, handing him his glass.
“dude, what?”, his eyes widen. and when he walks over, pulling the curtains aside he is met with the glimmering city skyline, “our window faces a brick wall”
she laughs before sliding the glass door open. stepping forward, the balcony is small– the railing a mere two steps past the threshold of the sliding glass door. Robin leans, her elbows resting on the cool metal railing and Steve wipes away some of the rain droplets with his palm before following suit. 
Despite it being around 9 pm, looking at the skyline it seems the city of Delhi never sleeps. there's a faint buzz of upbeat music playing somewhere close– there must be a club nearby. or a wedding.
“We should go clubbing tomorrow”, Robin suggests, raising her glass up in the air towards him. 
he hums while raising his own. glasses clink, “sure thing, partner” he says before he downs the entire thing, face scrunching at the burning taste on his tongue. 
Robin sips some of her own, her gaze moving down to the road below. There is a litter of puppies chasing each other around the empty street, the warm yellow light of the lamp post filtering over them. an older dog sits by the street light, watching over them. it's quieter than what the rest of the town seems like, hushed, calmer than the rush they had met on their way here. 
Steve frowns at his already empty glass and goes back in the room to retrieve the bottle, pouring himself some more on the way back to the balcony, “shouldn't we offer some to Eddie?--”
“we need to talk”, she interrupts him.
they both pause as he gulps a bit of his drink before saying, "well, we are aren't we?"
"no, like talk-talk"
“ok”, he nods once before his brows meet in confusion, “about..?”
"you said it yourself, I can't be mad at you the entire time we're here."
“Robs, it's okay–”
“I think it's pretty obvious I don't like you going for that job.”
“mhm, yeah, you've communicated that well enough.”
"exactly! and you still can't get it through your thick skull"
"what exactly?"
“you don't want that job steve! I know you. you don't like that kind of job and I don't want you to do this thing just because your dad is pushing you to do it”, her grip on her glass tightens, “it's-- it's stupid. thats a stupid thing to do.”
“it's not stupid Robin–”
“i want you to do a job that makes you happy, finance doesn't make you happy”
“believe it or not robs, working at scoops also didn't make me all that happy, working with my best friend did. and you'll be moving out to chicago”
"if I get in", steve takes offence to how quickly she shuts down that possibility.
"you will. I know you don't believe it Robs, but you'll get that college you wanted and then you'll move out. and Eddie is doing all these gigs, trust me", he turns to her, silently begging for her to look him in his eyes, "me going for this job is the best option, Robin." When her eyes stay trained on the street below, he sighs before looking back up at the sky-- no stars in sight. "and you're right, it's not a job I want. but I do need it. and if my asshole dad is still willing to help my sorry ass then I should seize it right?"
he glances back at her, he doesn't get a response from her, yet Steve looks at her with furrowed brows, begging for her to agree.
two of the puppies wrestle amongst themselves, it's all high pitched barks and rolling around, dirtying their fur in the process.
its quiet for a while, he sips his remaining drink. for a while its just that ambiance, the muffled city noise, dogs barking, the hum of air conditioners.
"dude, you're going to become a finance bro", Steve finally hears her say, "then I'll be best friends with a finance bro, ew", she scrunches her face the way he knows it's mostly playful, a laugh falling from her lips by the end of the sentence.
I want you to do a job that makes you happy.
I want you happy.
he laughs too, breathy. he readjusts his grip on his glass, leaning against the rails next to her. “I'm gonna save up, robs”, he promises looking her right in the eyes-- its hard to see the blue in them in this dark, “and if everything works out we can just get an apartment in Chicago then we can be roommates?”
she looks back at him, brows shooting up, “...you promise?”
“pinky.”
she gulps before taking another sip from the glass in her hand, “I don't wanna lose more people steve”, she says, her thumb wiping the condensation on the glass in her hand, and he can tell she's trying her darndest to not let her voice crack. 
her parents hadn't taken kindly to her coming out. she hadn't even meant to come out. Vickie's ex boyfriend had outed both of them to their parents– it had been a mess. 
whenever she'd tried to call her parents, as soon as they'd realise that it was her, the line would cut off. Once they recognised that she'd always call from either Steve's or Nancy's, they stopped picking up altogether. 
it's been months.
“you won't ever lose me Robs”, he immediately says because there is no doubt in it, meaning it more than anything else. 
She leans her head on his shoulder, letting in a deep breath, and somehow Steve just knows it means ‘I love you, dingus’
He wraps an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder ‘love you too birdie’.
Silence takes over, but it isn't all that much quiet, the puppies bark, their feet splashing against the little puddle they are playing around now. The two who had been fighting are licking each other. The faint music is still present, cars still honking away in the heart of the city– people honk a lot here. It's all faint but there. 
“So", he takes in a deep breath, "you plan where we're going yet?”
Robin takes her head off his shoulder before clearing her throat, “yeah, a bit–", she takes a sip of the forgotten drink in her hold, "there's just so much– there's too much honestly. maybe we get a guide but like those are expensive aren't they? I don't know, maybe they aren't–"
"Robs slow down"
"Okay, okay uh... I have a couple places down", she walks back into the room, picks up the book she had gotten earlier and hands it to him. Flipping through the glossy pages, Steve sees a few monuments and tourist attractions are marked by a pen, Steve is sure he can't pronounce most of these names.
“Oh, did you know they have a toilet museum here?” Robin speaks up after some time.
“wh–”
“before you say it, yes I'm being serious, they have a toilet museum, and were going there”
“seriously? they have historical buildings, monuments, tombs and shit and you wanna see a toilet museum?”
"we'll go to those places too but I also wanna see a toilet museum"
"why?"
"so I can find a place for you and Eddie to live."
“thanks", he deadpans.
They discuss and talk through their plans for the next day. its after midnight when Steve says his goodnight, the bottle of remaining vodka in his hand. for Eddie of course.
“Night Steve, kiss Eddie goodnight for me!”
“shut up.”
….
Despite having zero concrete plans, Steve, Robin and Eddie were definitely behind on their schedule. Sleeping in too late made them miss their free complementary breakfast that the hotel offered. 
Steve was so hungry that he would eat Eddie if it was morally and ethically an okay thing to do.
They instead had to order the hotel food which took way too goddamn long to come. Thankfully, when they were done, the hotel manager offered them a guide and a cab to show them around.
The guide was fluent in english, talking about the history of the places he took them. Qutb minar, Jama Masjid, Swaminarayan Akshardham, Humayun's tomb, india gate, lotus temple, All historical places and important monuments. And as beautiful as they were, all the information sort of muddled together for Steve. although incredibly knowledgeable, the guide was going a bit too fast for him. 
when the tour for the day was nearing an end, Robin bought up the toilet museum. If the man wasn't getting paid such a good amount, he wouldn’t have bothered to even hide his judgement like he did.
...
“That one looks like a confession booth”, Eddie points to the wooden seat that looked to be from the olden times, and much to his credit, the description was in fact apt.
“That one just looks like a bird-bath!” Robin points to the one in question and once again the description was accurate.
“This one is just a glorified flower pot.”
“Is it really glorified though?”
“Do you think… they'll let us sit on it? I wanna sit on the confession booth one”
“.. I dont know robin, why dont you ask them.”
“Please, do not touch them”, the guide interrupts them immediately.
“Dude, that one looks like a therapist's chair!” robin skips towards the toilet seat in question, having the time of her life. The other two follow behind. Steve looked around at the multitude of posters hung on the walls– who knew toilets would have such rich history. Along with informative posters, the walls were also covered in comic strips related to poop– toilet humor at its finest, truly.
Steve takes a big gulp from the water bottle Robin had made to hold. just when he is doing so, he feels someone bump into his shoulder, some of the water spilling onto his shirt from the action.
"oh shit, I'm so sorry!" you apologise with wide eyes.
a "sorry" falls from Steve's lips as well even though he didn't do anything.
Your wide eyes morph into a shy smile, “oh shit", you mumble, giggles erupting from your throat before you even know it, "You know ‘cause– uh.. Shit", you try to explain, gesturing around you.
“Oh, yeah, yeah I get it”
“Sorry, by the way”
“Its okay. I wasn't looking”, you smile a little shyly when he shakes his head, “I was just looking at… all this”, he pointing his thumb in the general direction of the wall. You hum through a small laugh "I mean who would even think of a toilet based museum?"
“maybe it's a dig at how the British took everything else so…."
"holy shit, that's an interesting way to look at it"
"yeah, pretty sure it's not true but that's how I choose to look at it"
“I– I’m sorry, I didn't quite catch your name–”
“Hey, Steve!” he stops midway when he hears his name from across the hall, voice belonging to Robin.
“Sorry, I have to go, I've been here for hours,” you start walking past him, glancing at your watch, “Fun meeting you, Steve.”
"Who was that girl?" is the first thing Robin asks when Steve finally walks over to them.
He shrugs, "the hell am I supposed to know?"
"So you talked to her for like half an hour and you don't know?"
"It wasn't that long, Munson."
"it felt that long, especially considering the second hand embarrassment I felt from way over there."
He rolls his eyes, unscrewing his abandoned water bottle and taking a swig from it while walking ahead.
“Hey dingus, quit being sulky.”
“I'm not being sulky”
“Yeah, you are. I mean, what were you expecting Harrington? a meet-cute?”
“no, dude. I was just trying to talk to someone normal”
“I know the urges are there harrington”, Robin starts, making Steve scrunch up his nose at her choice of words, “its been months since the break up– I get it. There's a time and place for everything. This was not it.”
“Oh my god”, Steve mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Give poor Harrington a break Robin”, Eddie’s hand claps the boy's shoulder, speaking with a kind cadence– one too kind for Edward Munson, “maybe he hasn't moved on, didn't he say that she was the one?”
“The one? Doesn't our hopeless romantic say that about every girl? Even me, at one point– if I remember correctly?”
“God, you're never gonna let me live that down are you?”
“No.”
“Okay, stop”, Steve holds up his hands, “I wasn't doing anything. she just bumped into me and… small talk happened, that's it. end of story. and I'm not being sulky or anything. and yes I am very much over the break up, it happened months ago. So can you both stop bringing it up all the time?”
Robin and Eddie share a look, “..sure.”
Eddie and Robin had already collected back the room keys, and already left for their respective rooms. Crowning Steve with the responsibility of handling the finances with the tour guide. It is when Steve is paying the guide, the glass door opens. And when Steve glances over, he is met with your face. He can't help the smile that creeps onto his face.
You haven't noticed him yet, instead walking straight towards the counter. "Room 111”, he hears you say while he tries to hand the money to the guide as quickly as possible. 
The guide nods, thanking him with a smile. The key clink when the manager puts it on the counter, Steve is there and the words come out of his mouth before he even knows it. “Toilet museum girl?”
Your head snaps towards him, features morphing into what can only be described as disgust. There is a flash of recognition before you say, “uh… what the fuck did you just call me?”
“Nothing, nothing. I just– we just keep running into each other, don't we?”
A smirk comes onto your face, you swipe up the keys from the counter before you start moving towards the elevators, “That we do. Are you stalking me?”
“uh, not intentionally, no", he clarifies, following behind you.
You give him a look, "uh huh."
"I know it looks bad but I swear it's happenstance"
The elevator button lights up beneath your finger when you press it, "Sure", you say in a tone that says you do not believe him at all.
"i swear I'm–"
"I already said ‘sure’", you deadpan, the doors ding open and the both of you step in. He sees the corners of your mouth curl up when you move to press the button for the floor you both were on, Steve couldn't help but smile too.
"yeah but the way you said it... said otherwise"
"what? what way?" your brows pull together, voice with the same sarcastic lilt.
"you're doing it again, toilet girl."
"Here's a deal steve, don't call me anything toilet museum related and I'll stop using that tone."
"deal. but... what should I call you then?", he asks, shoving his hands in his jean pockets– trying to take a confident pose, "I could call you by your name... but you won't tell me"
"have you heard of stranger danger Steve?", You cross your arms, turning towards him, "what if I was a serial killer who only murders in small suffocating elevators?"
The elevator dings again, the door opening on their own accord, "then it's a good thing we're here already!", he says, gesturing for you to step out, "and we aren't really strangers--"
"we are."
"Well, we can change that, can't we?", you stop at your room number. you don't answer, but Steve is sure he heard you hum under the rattle of your keys.
When the lock clicks open, he speaks up, “Hey, uh... what're you doing tonight?”
You turn around, “... uh, Sleep probably”, there’s that tone again.
“No, princess”, he mimics your sarcastic tone but the nickname comes out before he even knows, “before that.” 
Your eyes narrow, maybe at the tone, maybe at the nickname, “Nothing, I'll probably rot in bed or something”
“You're alone?”
“Does it matter?” you counter immediately.
“Well we’re going to a club nearby, you can tag along? and if you're with someone you can bring them along too?"
"Why must I? You could be an international axe murderer"
“You think such a handsome, pretty face could ever murder?”
“And what if I say I don't do alcohol?”
“Then you can be our designated driver?”
“Yeah, no”, you sigh, the door knob twisting in your hand.
“Okay, well if you change your mind– it's the club right down the road.”
“Have fun with your friends”, is all you say before disappearing behind the door. And Steve is left behind, staring at the wood, the number 111 mocking him.
God, what the fuck was he thinking?
The next morning, they thankfully wake up on time despite being definitely and awfully hungover. So here Steve was, with his messy bed hair and sleep mussed eyes, standing in line for the toaster, with a plate in his hand. 
Steve blinks slowly as the queue moves, the air smells like coffee, warm toast, and waffles. He can smell spices too, probably from the dishes which he had never had before or heard the name of. And as much as Steve loves trying out new dishes, a hangover is not a good time to experiment with his taste buds so he thinks he’ll have to chew on toast and wash it down with mediocre coffee this morning. 
The line moves forward again, he feels something brush against his back but he chalks it up as an accident and ignores it. He turns when he feels a finger poking into his shoulder and it's you. “Hi”, you smile up at him, you're wearing jeans and a pink embroidered top. Your hair is untied, tucked behind your ears and a little damp.
His free hand immediately flies up to his hair, fingers running through the messy strands to make it look a little more presentable, “uh, hi”, palm smoothes over his wrinkly t-shirt.
“Is.. is that your friend?” you say pointing to Eddie who was standing over at the waffle machine, pouring some honey on his stack.
“Yeah, yeah that's Eddie”
“Oh, makes sense”, you say, met with confusion written on Steve's face, “He kept trying to strike up a conversation. Also his waffles are a little burnt– I wouldn't share if I were you.” Steve laughs at that, fingers still trying to tame his wild mess of hair, “So, I see you had fun at that club last night”
“That obvious?”
“Very.”
"Where are you planning on going today?", you ask.
"not sure, Robin is deciding right now probably"
“Robin..?”
“Oh, she’s over there”, he points to his best-friend who was sitting at an empty table, coffee already in hand, flipping through pages of a book.
"you three really didn't plan any of this huh?"
"no, not really."
"so you're telling me you're travelling by car and barely trying any street food. jail. jail time to all of you", you were sitting with Steve and his friends now.
"how the hell were we supposed to know? the guide didn't tell us"
"what was the poor guy supposed to do? you can't see so much in just a couple days"
"but there's just so much", you hear Robin speak up for the first time.
"yeah! and you have to accept that you can't see everything, no matter what you do, you're always going to miss something. so shorten this list of yours. and the things you do see, take your time with them. or you'll forget them."
“Ok bud, then where should we go?”
"well if you want to you can go to the red fort, then chandni chowk and then Hazrat Nizamuddin dargah? Its thursday so it’ll be absolutely packed"
"Okay. Will we find you there?"
"I hope not." you say non-chalantly while sipping your chai.
"maybe– maybe we can all go together?" Steve suggests with raised eyebrows. you make an unconvinced noise at the offer. "Still on the fence about the axe murderer thing?"
"Always."
Steve wasnt sure how, but he had managed to convince you to come along with them. He sat infront of you in the auto rikshaw, your hair had dried by the time you reached your first destination. 
The tour around red fort ended rather quickly than he had anticipated, before you pulled them all to chandni chowk.
your hair was now tied up, some of the baby strands sticking to the back of your neck. you looked like you felt right at home, skipping from one shop to another. stopping for some delectable street food every now and then.
you were all enjoying a sweet syrupy jalebi when you called for Robin's name, “Do you like wearing earrings?” you ask.
the girl looks at you, a little hesitant when she answers, “Uh.. someti–”
“Here! This one would look great on you”, you say holding up a pair of glimmering silver and blue earrings. "do you like it?"
"I- um, I do", you grin at that.
steve wasn't where the time flew, but they were already headed to your next destination on your list with bags of little things he, Eddie and Robin bought.
...
[kun Faya kun]
It felt weird to be barefoot, you had given all the shoes to a man by a store. Where the four of you stood now, the street looked breathtaking. Small shops, some selling flowers and incense, some selling religious blankets that you had called chaddars, others selling attar, and so on and so forth. The bright greens, reds, blues and oranges of the chaddars illuminated by the warm lights of the shops looked akin to a canopy of swirling colours.
Currently, you were helping Robin put on a scarf you had gotten earlier from a shop in Chandni chowk over her head, just the way that you had. When you were done, you instructed the two boys to cover their heads as well. When you were met with confused looks from the two of them, you clicked your tongue before covering their head with their handkerchief and tying it behind their head.
The man at the store then handed you a few plates with flowers, incense and a few threads, “what are those for?” he asks, pointing at the threads.
“You make a wish with them”, his brows scrunch up together, “come on, I'll explain”, you say, grabbing him by his wrist.
“You see these walls? people come from all over, they tie a thread”, you say pointing to a man who was tying the red string into the lattice of the wall. the entire wall had such threads tied to them-- all little prayers and wishes made by someone out there. so many people want something. “and they make a mannat. you tie a thread and make a wish. it's like you're asking for a favour.”
“so I ask for whatever I want?”
“whatever you want", you echoed with a smile before pointing to where a lot of men were by the wall, “you boys do it over there, me and Robin are going there– it's reserved for women".
When Steve is looping the thread through the hole, he does so mindlessly, and only when he is about to tighten the knot does he stop to wonder… what exactly is he wishing for? what the hell does he want?
He looks over at Eddie, who already has his temple leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. Steve wonders what he asked for. he thinks he has a hunch.
Without even thinking, his eyes start searching for robin. he sees you help her tie it before the girl leans her head against the wall too. Steve knows full well what she wants. 
And then he sees you, you hesitate while looping the thread. you hesitate when tie the first knot. you hesitate for the second. even from this far away, he could see the hesitation in your eyes before you close them.
He blinks and his gaze snaps back to his own thread, the knot still not tightened. His fingers move on their own when he ties the first one. 
what does he want?
He twists the red thread, looping the long end through the loop.
what does he want?
And when he ties the last knot, it echoes in his brain, “what do I want?”
The group of men sing at the top of their lungs– their voices carrying experience, a roughness that only years of singing can bring. Eddie explains to Steve that the instrument the man was playing was called a harmonium and a dholak. 
“how do you know that?”
“I know a lot, Harrington”, he chuckles when he says it.
Steve glances to where you and Robin are sitting among the other women. and despite being surrounded by such a huge crowd, he can tell Robin is calm which he is glad of. He sees you; you're looking at Robin with an expression he can't quite read, and when she glances your way, you quickly flash her a smile before reverting your eyes back to the singing men.
Its awkward, he can tell that much from afar. He thinks Robin is a little nervous around you, maybe finds you attractive with how little she makes eye contact with you, and how everytime you had said anything to her, it was answered in merely a couple words. He can't make sense of your behaviour though, or the way you look at her a little forlorn. he thinks maybe you're hurt by how unwilling Robin might seem to talk to you despite your constant attempts.
[Aaj jaane ki zid na karo]
You all had come back to the hotel an hour or two ago. As soon as you all had arrived, you had left for your room, something about a call you had to make. And now after taking a bit of a rest, they were getting ready to spend whats left of the night at the club they went to last night.
Steve had his fingers crossed, planning on inviting you with them, hoping to god that you agree because he had fun. a lot more than he would like to admit to you or even his friends.
They're all in Steve's and Eddie's room. Robin all ready, sitting on the edge of his bed. Eddie is tying his shoes, his hair already up, his favourite rings on his digits.
Steve himself was trying to get his hair right, despite how much he had styled his thick strands at the start of the day, they were a little flattened now after the day. after he put some pomade on and his hair was just the way he wanted it, he sprayed on his cologne. just when he was contemplating whether to take his ray-bans with him or not, there was a knock on the door.
Eddie who had been putting on his jacket, was the closest to the door. when he clicked open the door, he was met with your face.
"Hi", you say with a smile before noticing that they're all getting ready to go somewhere. "what're you guys getting dolled up for?"
"We were just going to the club nearby--"
"d'you wanna come with?" Steve offers immediately, walking closer.
"um.. I– I can't..", you mumble apologetically, fingers fidgeting, “I just came here because I wanted to say that I had a lot of fun. And uh, all that.”
"So did we”, Eddie says.
"I just wanted to meet you guys before… leaving"
Steve’s face falls a little, “What do you mean?” 
“I'm heading out around 2 am. I have a flight at 4. I'm going south after this."
“Oh.”
Its silent. Nobody says anything, what could they say anyway, you were still technically a stranger– they didnt even know your name yet. You hid your hands behind yourself, perhaps picking at your cuticles. Your eyes flitting between all three of them, “I didn't just want to leave so…”, you lift your arms, Eddie who was the closest, hugged you first. Then you moved to Robin, not giving her a second to say anything, you wrap your arms around her shoulders. After maybe a second, she wraps her arms around you too, patting your back a little awkwardly. When you pull away, her face is a little red. You offer her a smile and she finally returns a rather timid one herself. 
Your eyes meet Steve’s, you walk over, he moves closer as well. And when you are face to face, you smile up at him. There's a light in your eyes, subdued but there. And from up this close, he thinks you can see it all, all of him. All his doubts, his insecurities, anxieties. Yet you're smiling up at him.
You rock him a little when you hug him, taking him off his balance. He envelops you in his hold, squeezing tighter than he thought he would. "I really had fun”, his eyes close on their own accord when he feels your warm breath on his neck, when he feels your smile on his skin. 
“My name is y/n by the way." 
Steve pulls away just a little, eyes trained on yours, "can’t you come with us before leaving? It won't take too long."
"Steve...", you start, voice all soft and apologetic.
"No, its okay", he shakes his head before smiling.
You return a smile back before looping your arms around his neck once again, "I'm glad we met Steve."
"me too."
You pull back, looking him in the eyes, you whisper, "goodbye."
"anyway… Um–”, you clear your throat, Steve's hold loosening on you and you remove your arms from around him as well, stepping away. You stiffly walk towards the door, stopping at the threshold, the knob in your grasp, “you guys have fun! don't get robbed or scammed or whatever. Bye." you gave them one last sheepish smile before closing the door.
...
Prayers entwined into the thread of us all
mine was empty
I lied to the strangers I met, free as wind
she reminded me of her
Its not like we’ll meet again, I'll be loud and cheap
she doesn't look at me just like she did
I’ll hug them goodbye, I’ll be a mystery.
...
23 notes · View notes
daddynattt · 2 years
Note
omg im so happy i found your blog, you’ve quickly become one of my new favourite writers !! 😭😭
the pussyjob and dirty talk in your latest nat fic was literally so perfect I s(creamed)🫣
Can you please write a fic with Nat that includes tribbing/scissoring? (only if you’re comfortable with it ofc) I think i’ve only seen like two tribbing fics with Nat in the entirety of tumblr so i’d love to see how you do with it! <33
you and me both! lol. thank you so much<3 i hope you enjoy this
You’re Mine
Tumblr media
Summary: When Natasha sees you and Wanda dancing at one of Tony’s famous parties, she does what she can to steal you away and show you who you really belong to.
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader , Brief Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Warnings: Possesive Nat, Jealous Nat, Smut, Scissoring, Fluff, Tony being Tony.
Word Count: 2.4k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You looked in the mirror for the final time as you put on your jewelry and walked out of your room at the compound. Tony is having another one of his parties and said everyone has to attend that they can’t get out of it. You hated his parties as all anyone did was get black out drunk and sleazy men would always try to hit on you. If you were being honest, you only wanted one person to hit on you and that was a certain red head. Your relationship with Natasha was a weird one. At times she would appear stone cold, only interacting when you went on missions together or had team gatherings. Other times the two of you would flirt and play this game of cat and mouse. Lately, she has been around you more and has made flirtatious jokes along with lingering touches here and there. Your crush on the assassin was one that you can’t get rid of no matter how many times you told yourself she didn’t want you in a romantic way.
You sigh as you enter through the doors and look around you. Tony was at the bar taking shots with Bucky and Sam, already looking like he couldn’t stand on his own two feet for much longer. Steve was chatting with Wanda and Clint in the corner by the bar and Natasha was talking to some guy you’ve not once seen in your entire time of being an Avenger and living in the compound. You roll your eyes as you make your way towards the bar, already desperately needing a drink to get some alcohol in your system. You’re just going to stay at the party for one hour tops and make your way back to your room so you can lay in bed and watch the show that you’re currently watching. 
“Y/n! so nice of you to finally join us” you hear Tony slur from beside you, a cup in his hand of God knows what. You stare at him as he stumbles and almost falls. “How are you already this drunk at your own party?” you ask him bewilderingly. He taps you on the back quite harshly, the sudden force catching you off guard as you almost spill your drink on yourself as you stumble forward in your seat. “Watch it Stark, I am not afraid to kick your ass” you glare at him as you put your drink back on the bar countertop. He raises his hands in defense and smirks at you. “Now now no need to get so aggressive, leave that for a certain red head” You roll your eyes and glare at him again but the light tint of pink on your cheeks gives you away. 
“How about you shut your mouth because I have no clue what you’re talking about” you take a sip of your drink and turn away from him as you look around you once more. You smile as you see Wanda approaching you, inviting her with a wave of your hand to sit beside you. She smiles at you as she takes the seat next to you. “Is Tony bothering you?” she laughs at your annoyed expression when he quickly denies it. You ignore him as you smile at her. “When isn’t he? he’s so annoying” you say the last part loud enough so he could hear you. Wanda giggles and smiles brightly at you, and you can’t deny that she looks absolutely gorgeous when she does so.
“That’s Tony for you, i’m surprised you even showed up to the party” You smile at her and take another sip of your drink. “Well, he basically forced us and I didn’t want to face his wrath if I didn’t show up tonight, you know how he is. Besides, my company at the moment is very lovely” you slide your hand up her arm flirtatiously and you relish in the way she smiles shyly at you, a light blush accompanying her cheeks. You smile at her and get up, putting your hand out for her to grab. 
“Would you like to dance with me?” she smiles and grabs your hand, walking the two of you towards the dance floor. “I would love to, cmon” The two of you dance together, her arms around your neck as yours go around her waist, her body so close to you that you feel her breath on your face. You have a feeling that someone is watching you so you look to the side and notice Natasha looking
in your direction, a hard glare fixated towards the back of Wanda’s head. You smirk as you pull Wanda closer, if that is even possible, as you whisper something in her ear. You see Natasha walking towards you guys from the corner of your eye, her eyes not once leaving yours. 
“Hi ladies, so Y/n, I thought you said you were going to come find me so we could dance” you smile at her as you look into her eyes. “Hmm did I? I don’t recall, I was actually enjoying my dance with Wanda” her gaze is hard as she looks at you, her jaw clenched as she grabs onto your arm. “Well I guess it’s my turn now, sorry Wanda but i’m going to steal Y/n for a moment” before Wanda has a chance to speak, you’re being dragged away and out of the party. “What the hell Nat? what are you doing?” the wind gets knocked out of you as you’re slammed into the wall somewhere away from the party.
“Shut up. Did you enjoy your dance with the little witch? Tell me, or did you wish it was me instead?” she has that stupid smirk on her face that always makes you feel some type of way, her face is so close to yours you could almost taste the lipgloss on her lips. 
Before you can say anything, her lips are on yours in a bruising kiss that makes your stomach swoop, the butterflies in your stomach going haywire as your brain finally catches up and you kiss her back with the same intensity. When you feel the need to catch air in your lungs so you don’t pass out, she pulls back first and cups your jaw in her hand as she stares into your eyes. “You’re mine Y/n, and i’m going to show you who you belong to” you two make your way to your shared room and stumble through the door, her lips on yours the second you close it shut. Your head feels fuzzy as all you feel and taste is her. You have been waiting for this moment for so long and you are going to enjoy every second of it. 
You feel her hot breath on your neck as she kisses you there, leaving love bites wherever her mouth reaches, her hands on your butt as she squeezes you there. You run your hands through her hair and moan in her ear. “Nat please, I need you” you pant out as you feel her tongue licking your earlobe, biting it right after. You feel her sucking on your neck again, no doubt leaving many marks that will for sure be hard to cover up. You think she is trying to claim her mark, and the thought of it leaves you even more wet then you already are. She rids you from your dress leaving you in only your panties, pushing you towards the bed and laying you on your back. 
She kisses you hard and shoves her tongue in your mouth, the feeling of her tongue against yours making the ache in your core start to feel uncomfortable . You need her now as the overwhelming feeling of her has become too much for you to handle. She kisses down your chest, taking your nipple in her mouth as she sucks on it. You can feel your slick running down your thigh as you are unbelievably wet for her. “Fuck nat, just like that, feels so good” she bites your nipple and kisses down your body, she lays down as she gets in between your legs. She slides off your panties and spreads your legs wide as she admires her view, breathing in your scent as her mouth waters.
“God you are so wet for me baby, you’re absolutely dripping. I can’t wait to taste your sweet pussy” she licks your juices from your inner thighs, your breathing picking up at the overwhelming feeling of her mouth on you. You run your hand through her hair and tug her closer to where you need her most.
“Please Natty, stop teasing me, need your mouth so bad” you mewl out breathlessly as you look down at her. She gives you a long lick from the bottom to the top of your clit, gathering your taste on her tongue. She starts to lick your folds, looking up at you as she sucks your clit into her mouth. “You taste so fucking good baby, the best pussy i’ve ever had” you moan loudly as her tongue hits you in all the right places, feeling her stick her finger inside you as she sucks on your clit again. “Shit you’re so tight, you feel so warm around me” she fucks you with one finger then slowly adds another one, moving them in and out of you expertly. You are dripping wet that once you adjust, you swallow her fingers as she fucks you deep. “F-fuck don’t stop, that feels so fucking good” she moans against your clit as your nails scratch at her scalp as she fucks you faster, the vibration making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Her mouth and fingers feel so good that you can’t think of anything else. You’re close and she knows it as you clench around her fingers.
She moves up your body and sucks on your earlobe as she fucks you deep and hard, as she whispers in your ear, her voice hot and raspy. “You gonna cum for me baby? Cum all over my fingers, that’s it baby, such a good girl for me” after a few more thrusts you cum hard on her fingers as a strong orgasm washes over you, your breathing is heavy as she rides out your high. You lay there panting as you try to catch your breath. 
She slides her fingers out and you whimper from the loss of feeling, she brings her fingers to your mouth and looks into your eyes. “Open” you instantly obey and suck on her fingers, moaning at your taste. She bites her lip and gets up from the bed and takes off her clothes, joining you in finally getting naked. You bite your lip as you admire her, you’ve never seen someone more beautiful then her. You don’t know if your mind is just hazy from your orgasm but you think you see a hint of a blush on her cheeks and the thought makes your heart swell in your chest. “God Nat, you’re so beautiful” she smiles at you and joins you back on the bed as she kisses you. 
You feel her slick against your thigh and the fact that she is so wet from only pleasing you makes you feel immense pride. She pulls back from the kiss as she bites your bottom lip. “Fuck I wanna feel you, i’m gonna grind on you baby. Wanna feel your pussy against mine” she spreads your legs as she hovers over you, grinding herself on you, the feeling of her wet folds against yours igniting a feeling inside you that you’ve never felt before. “Fuck your pussy feels so good, it’s like it was made for me” she grinds on you faster, her clit hitting yours perfectly as she glides back and forth. You’ve never scissored with anyone before, the feeling of her pussy against yours makes you feel so unbelievably dirty, you’ve never felt something as good as this.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she grinds faster, your legs slightly shaking as her pussy feels so good against yours. “God i’m gonna fucking cum, gonna cum on your pussy. Fuck you feel amazing, oh fuck i’m coming!” she sloppily grinds on you as both your orgasms wash over you, your body twitching as she rides out both of your highs, you are so sensitive that you can’t handle anymore. She breathes heavily as she looks down at you, your hair sticking to your forehead and your chest heaving, you’ve never looked more beautiful. She looks at you through hooded eyes and starts grinding on you again. You try to push her off as you’re unbelievably sensitive. “I can’t anymore Nat, ‘m too sensitive” she keeps grinding as she’s not far off from another orgasm. “Just one more princess, your pussy feels so fucking good against mine, fuck” both your clits were so swollen that the feeling of them hitting each other once more had you both so close to your release. “Yes yes yes, don’t stop Nat, i’m gonna cum” you were both so wet that squishing sounds could be heard in the air of the room as both your cunts rubbed together. “Oh fuck, Nat!” you scream her name as an even more powerful orgasm washes over you then the last one, your body shaking and twitching as she slumps against you, the both of you trying to catch your breath. 
“That was amazing” she kisses you sloppily as she continues to lay on top of you, relishing in the warmth your body provides. You lazily run your hand up and down her back as you smile. “So not that i’m complaining, because i’m definitely not, but what brought this on?” her raspy laugh makes you shiver and she looks up at you from your chest. “I got jealous seeing you and Wanda all over each other. I know i’m not an easy person to understand but I have feelings for you and want to be with you. I didn’t want to lose my chance before it was too late” you can see the insecurity in her eyes as she gazes up at you, you know she isn’t always in touch with her feelings so for her to be vulnerable with you in this moment, means more to you then she will ever know. You smile softly at her and stroke her cheek. “I’m yours Natty, I always have been. I want to be with you and only you”
764 notes · View notes
taintedcigs · 1 year
Note
OMG LITERALLY LOVED POLAROIDS SO MUCH DUDE 🤭
Also if your taking requests could you maybe write Eddie x fem!Scoops Ahoy Worker!reader
✦ A SCOOP OF MISUNDERSTANDINGS | e. munson x reader ✦
Tumblr media Tumblr media
wc: 2k+
pairing: eddie munson x f!reader
warnings: not a lot of warnings tbh, just swearing, jealousy, fluff, like annoyingly fluffy, i hope this isn't cheesy and tiny tiny bit of angst if u RLLY squint
summary: eddie is really enamored with the new scoops ahoy worker, and is jealous of how her and steve get along so well.
authors note: NONNIE PLS EXCUSE HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY ASKS FOR A LONG TIME!! im so glad u liked polaroids and now i hope u like this as well and hope i did ur request justice <33 this concept was so fun to write!! ITS ABIT CHEESY BUT I LOVE CHEESY SO EXCUSE ME PLS! also lmk if u want more like this or all ur requests and any of ur feedback pls send me an ask abt anything ily all <3
Tumblr media
eddie LOOVES ice cream, and most of all, eddie loves going to scoops ahoy with dustin and annoying the shit out of steve.
it's like their weekly routine at this point, getting ice-cream, but also trying all the flavors so they can get free ice-cream, steve and robin always end up yelling at them.
so eddie entered the scoops ahoy shop with a smirk on his face, and the mission of annoying steve, but his smirk is wiped off and he is almost baffled by something, or rather someone.
you.
he is intrigued at the sight of you, standing next to steve, pouting your glossed plump lips at him for something he is saying, and you look so pretty, that it catches him off guard. even with that stupid scoops ahoy hat on top of your hat, eddie thinks you look so fucking good that it's unfair, and he is too dumbfounded to speak.
you laugh at something steve says, and it makes eddie's heart skip a beat. his mind is fuzzy when he's staring at you, he wonders if you're new here, because if someone as angelic as you worked here before, he wouldn't have missed it.
his attention is drawn back to robin, who tries to take his and dustin's order and dustin asks to try his 100th flavor "god, will you take eddie and dustin's order i need to go on a break!" she exclaims shouting your name, groaning. you nod quickly as you wave steve away.
a warm smile is plastered on your face, "welcome to scoops ahoy! what can i get for you, dustin" you point to dustin, guessing the kid steve always talked about must've been him, and then you turn to eddie.
"and, eddie?" you smile, also remembering him from steve's stories, as he told you all about eddie and how he was 'not jealous' that dustin had gotten another older brother, who played the 'same stupid nerd game as dustin'.
"you know my name?" eddie asked, his eyes widening and his mouth dried up. "robin just told our names, you doofus." dustin lightly nudged him, and a blush crept up eddie's cheeks, his first words to you and he already looked like an idiot, great, he thought to himself.
"oh, not only that but that one talks about you two all the time!" you said giggling as you pointed to steve.
"all good things i hope." eddie chuckled and you gave him a warm smile again, nodding. the way your eyes sparkled as you smiled was etched into his brain forever, dustin realized eddie's adoring looks but he kept his mouth shut.
"so, uh... what kind of ice cream would you like today? we have a lot of flavors!" you asked, showing them dozens of ice cream flavors.
"i'll have one scoop of chocolate and one scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough, and same for him, if that's okay." eddie said, smiling at you.
you looked up at him, your smile widening. "coming right up!" you said sweetly, grabbing a cone and getting to work.
as you did so, dustin lightly nudged eddie's shoulder, eddie could barely turn his head around to dustin when all he could do was focus on you. "what?" he asked annoyed.
"dude, you have to ask her out!" dustin exclaimed excitedly and eddie threw him a look as to say 'keep your voice down idiot, she's right there!'
"what?" eddie asked playing dumb and dustin rolled his eyes, "you've been gawking at her ever since we walked in, just ask her out!" dustin encouraged eddie.
but eddie didn't know how he was supposed to do that. he was the 'freak' of hawkins, and you were- oh you were so pretty, so nice and you seemed so kind. he couldn't even manage to get his words out when you were around, let alone ask you out on a date.
"maybe next time, kiddo." he gave dustin's shoulder a squeeze, as eddie watched you laughing at steve's jokes again, and sighed.
he knew you were out of his league and possibly suited better for someone like 'king steve' anyway, but it didn't stop him from returning in a few days.
"eddie, hi!" the way your face instantly lit up and how you remembered his name, made him smile, eddie was putty in your hands with just two interactions.
"one scoop chocolate and one scoop chocolate chip again?" you remembered his name and his order? eddie's heart was about to burst out of his chest, you were giving the poor boy hope with just existing.
he nodded, and you scooped a generous portion of ice cream into a cone. "will that be all?" your tone was so sweet that it was making eddie sick.
"um, yeah." eddie said, feeling a bit flustered. he took the cone and turned to leave, but then he hesitated, dustin's words rang in his mind. he knew he at least had to start more conversations with you.
"hey, um, do you have any recommendations for other flavors?" he asked, his voice was still timid.
you grinned, excitedly. "oh, there are so many! have you tried the mint chocolate chip? it's my personal favorite." when he shook his head no, you immediately grabbed a spoon feeding him the ice cream.
you excitedly waited for his feedback, your eyes were glimmering, "really good." he managed to get out with a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, making you giggle.
even if eddie wouldn't have liked the flavor, he would pretend that it was his favorite flavor for the rest of his life if it meant he would get to hear your pretty laugh and those dreamy eyes again.
and eddie knew he was obsessed now, he didn't want to be so hooked on you, but you made it easy, so very easy.
and in the next few weeks, eddie started coming to the shop more often, finding excuses to try new flavors and linger around you at all times. and the more he came the more he got comfortable with you, always making small talk, while trying to be funny and charming, but always feeling like he was failing miserably.
but you didn't seem to mind. in fact, him always coming around to see you, and your conversations were the best part of your day, and your job.
you were always laughing the hardest at his jokes, asking him about his day, and even sneaking him extra scoops of ice cream every now and then.
but eddie had one problem.
steve.
he was always there, talking to you, and making you laugh, jealousy was starting to consume him.
he couldn't help the agonizing anxiety inside of him that made him feel like he wasn't good enough for you, especially compared to steve who seemed to be a ladies' man and had a natural charm to him, along with the 'king steve' title that eddie felt he lacked, the only title he had was, 'the freak'.
and eddie couldn't get you out of his head. his head was constantly filled with thoughts of you and the little moments the two of you shared at scoops ahoy.
so when he came to the shop the next day, he had one thing on his mind. he had to at least try his chances, and ask you out.
"hi, honey." he greeted you, the nickname was something you felt so comfortable with, and it made you feel so giddy inside.
"hi, eds." he loved the nicknames you gave him, 'handsome, eds, pretty boy.' he could feel his insides about to burst when you called him any of them.
when the two of you fell into your routine conversations again, eddie felt comfortable, he felt at ease with your presence, and he realized he could really do it, he could actually ask you out.
so when he called out your name in a soft voice, he gathered his courage, clearing his throat.
"i just wanted to ask you if-" but once again, his voice was drowned out by steve, and he sighed his anxiety was starting to bubble over when your shift instantly focused to steve.
"shit- sorry i'm late, again!" steve's voice was irritating him now, and you waved steve off, to say that it was fine.
"you're only late like 5 minutes." you offered him a smile, and as steve gave you a hug to greet you eddie could feel his stomach knotting up.
he tried to stay composed, but he couldn't help his mind getting fuzzy about his insecurities.
when you returned to eddie, you could sense he was off. "sorry handsome, what were you saying?" you asked, as you gave him a sympathetic smile.
but eddie was distant, and even the 'handsome' nickname, wasn't enough to ease his worries "oh, it was nothing important." his voice was timid and he was now lost in his own thoughts.
"is everything okay?" you asked, your voice filled with worry.
"yeah, yeah, you can go back to your thing with steve, i didn't mean to interrupt." he meant for it to sound casual, but it sounded bitter.
you looked at him, furrowing your brows. "what?" and when you saw the way eddie looked at steve, it clicked.
all the times when steve came and interrupted you and eddie's conversation, all the times steve made you laugh, eddie always had the same disappointed look on his face that he did now.
and you actually face-palmed at the realization, and gave him a chuckle, causing eddie's attention to shift to you again as he gave you a puzzled look.
"jesus- eddie, have i ever told you how i started this job?" you asked, and he shook his head.
"we moved into hawkins a few weeks ago, my dad told me i had to find a summer job and then my cousin told me he got this new job at scoop's ahoy, so i thought why not? and i signed up as well." the information was slow to process eddie's brain.
"steve is my cousin, eds." you said, a smug smirk played on your lips, and eddie immediately felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. "oh."
"shit, i didn't know. sorry." he shook his head, glancing down at the floor.
he wanted to laugh at how foolish he had been, worrying about steve this much in the last few weeks.
"it's okay, i mean we do hang out a lot, but that's because he's my favorite cousin, and it's really fun to be able to annoy him 24/7." you giggled and eddie chuckled, nodding.
he felt a surge of relief, but he wanted to slap himself for being jealous over nothing.
when the conversation between the two of you went back to normal eddie felt comfortable around you again, and he decided to push his plans to asking you out to the next day, his cheeks still blushing at the mention of steve.
so when he says his goodbyes to you, it makes you groan, and eddie tilts his head, confused, as he turns his attention to you.
"are you ever going to ask me out?" you asked, impatiently, and you felt desperate to do so, but you had spent weeks flirting with eddie, and it was driving you crazy now.
eddie blinked slowly, not believing the words that were coming out of your mouth his heart pounding in his chest. "w-what?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
you huffed, "i mean i've been flirting with you for weeks, and i thought you weren't interested, but you did nothing." you pouted, and eddie felt like he was going to faint.
"shit, honey." now your heart was pounding out of your chest, the nickname, again, was enough to make you melt.
"fuck, i've been trying to ask you out for weeks, but i thought you weren't interested, especially because i thought you were interested in steve-" you made a gagging sound at that and his mouth turned up into a soft smile.
he felt like he was dreaming, he felt so stupid. "would you wanna go out with me? maybe to that new restaurant that opened up just right down the street?" he asked, intoxicated by your hopeful eyes.
"yes," you replied, without hesitation. "i would love to."
eddie grinned sheepishly at you. "great," he said. "how about tomorrow afternoon?"
you nodded eagerly. "tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect."
"see you then." eddie replied, appearing to be casual and trying to hide the fact that he was screaming internally. and trying to comprehend that he was actually going to go on a date with you.
1K notes · View notes
m4y4wasnthere · 3 months
Note
Please do soc reader x sodapop!!!! I’m sure he would be one that wouldn’t actually mind that you’re a soc
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
soc!reader x sodapop
warnings: suggestive hcs at end, separated ofc!
a/n: this is super cute!!! i definitely think Soda would be the most likely in all thr gang to end up w a soc, its his movie star handsomeness that leaves heads turning 🌝
Tumblr media
you guys obv first met at the DX
you drove your white/pink mustang up to a gas pump and you walked into the store looking for (your) favorite candy bar
you ended up having to go to the register since she couldnt find it and might as well pay for her pump
and then BOOM eye contact. 2 extremely gorgeous people meeting each other
You could’ve sworn they sold [candy bar] here and tried scurrying around the store in all directions before finally giving up. You hesitantly walked up to the register waiting for the guy to turn back around.
Your jaw slightly dropped when he turned. He was stunning.
“Hey pretty lady, do you need help with anything?” He smiled and your heart skipped a beat. His smile was absolutely perfect.
“H-hi.. yea, uh, wow.” You mentally facepalmed at your words escaping your thoughts. Your hand flew quickly to your mouth in embarrassment. He chuckles at your compliment.
“Oh my gosh I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that- Uh, I’m looking for [candy bar] and was curious if you guys had it? Also I wanna pay for pump 3.”
“Its alright beautiful. Your lucky, we do have that bar, its my favorite too! Let me get it real quick for ya.”
He walks to the back and you cant help but start fawning over him. You blush and giggle thinking about how nice he was despite being a greaser, he called you pretty and-
He comes back and places the bar on the desk. “Pump 3 you said, right?”
“Yeah, thats right.” You reach into your white mini purse for some cash but he interrupts you.
“Its on me dollface, its not everyday a goregous girl like you walks into my gas station.”
“Wow uhm I- I dont even know what to say, thank you-…?”
“Sodapop. Sodapop Curtis. Have a nice day…?”
“Y/n. Y/n L/n.” You blush and shyly shake his hand.
“I hope I see you around gorgeous.”
He winks at you before walking to the back of the shop again. You stand there shocked, flushed and elated. You just got called gorgeous by him.
~~
When you get home, you find his number written on the back of the bar and you decide to give him a call. 🤭
Sodapop is used to getting alot of attention from girls, i mean he’s literally gorgeous.
But he always makes sure to tell them that he belongs to the most prettiest girl ever.
He won’t immediately tell them to go away if they aren’t actually doing any harm, but he’ll get more assertive if they become touchy
No matter how you see yourself physically, he thinks the WORLD of you
He is head over heels, whenever he loves someone, HE LOVES HARD
You guys took it slow, he explained what happened with Sandy very early on since he didn’t want to get your hopes up
But you were very understanding to him, especially with taking things slow
He had such a huge crush on you after that, already so into you just from how nice you were
When you first met the gang, they already know so much about you from how much Soda talks about you
“Hi everyone, um, I dont know if or what Soda has said about me but my name is Y/n.”
The gang all looked at you and gave small introductions, Two-Bit spoke up.
“Ah so, you’re the broad who keeps making Soda giggle like a little kid at the telephone every night.”
You blushed and started laughing.
“Stop it Two-bit” Soda said giggling. (guys im picturing this like a girl saying stawpp itttt 🤭🤭)
He likes referring to you as princess, dollface, any nickname that compliments you in some way (beautiful, pretty, gorgeous etc etc)
You guys usually hangout at his house, the DX, or you go with him and Steve (including whatever broad Steve is with) kind’ve like double dates
He would so be the boyfriend who brings a boombox to your window, leave flower petals, light candles, EVERYTHING
You guys are so pda everywhere, the gang always makes jokes about it
Your parents were skeptical when first meeting him since 1. He was a grease and 2. He was a drop-out, but they realized how much of a gentleman he was
They sometimes still get a bit on the fence about ti, but for the most part, they see he isnt just a regular greaser (they’re thinking of Dallas Winston.)
• more suggestive ones •
He loves praising you, he doesn’t usually degrade or do anything on the meaner side but he can go to some extents if you’re into it
Not into full on quickies, but wouldn’t mind receiving a bj from you in the back of the DX or fingering you if you guys need to let off some unattended “needs”
Always makes sure you finish first, he knows how girls lie about it and the first fee times you were intimate, he really made sure that whatever he was doing was actually making you feel good
His favorite body part of yours is your face, he loves the way you look at him with so much love, how pretty you look when sucking him off, the expressions you make when he is legit destroying you (☠️)
His favorite position is missionary. He feels like its the most loving position, he can see if your actually enjoying it, can change pace and how rough he is easily, but also really good access to your chest, neck and your clit
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧⋆ ˚。⋆
a/n: pls send more reqs. idk what to write 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
41 notes · View notes
nervousgardenerkid · 2 years
Note
Hello! I love your writing! Could you do a request of Steve Harrington and reader going to a football game and the kiss cam won’t leave them alone so eventually they kiss for the first time?
Kiss her you fool
a/n: im baaackk!! sorry i went MIA for a while, i just had a lot of things going on. i don't know much about football games cause i'm a baseball gal but i imagine it's slightly the same??😭😭i hope you enjoy what my brain came up with! happy reading and credit to the gif owner!
warnings: none! i decided to make this another modern au cause why not lol. no pronouns were used in this story so everyone can read! the title is just from a song and i thought it'd be fitting
Tumblr media
Steve watched with excited eyes as you stood up to cheer as your team scored yet another touchdown. He knew what was going on, he just wasn't much of a football guy. Basketball was his favorite sport but he'd sit through a hundred football games if it meant he could see you acting like this.
“Did you see that touchdown, Steve?!”
He lets out a hum, his eyes falling back onto the field as he watches the grown men tackle each other and run to the person who has the ball. His brain tries to recall old memories of his father explaining the rules of football to him, but they're all coming up as a blur. Now, this wasn't his ideal first date but he saw how excited you for at school games so he figured your excitement would be times ten.
He was right. You stand out of your seat shouting curses at the referee as he made a call you and the fans didn't agree with.
“Fuck you, ref! My grandma is blind and could see that shit!”
Steve chuckles as he watches you slump into your seat fixing the hat that was resting on your head. Steve likes you a lot. He likes that you're not as nervous as he is, he admires that. People begin to stand from their seats going to get some more beer and food as the teams got ready for the next quarter.
“Hey, did you want some more food?” he asks you whole digging into his pocket for his card.
You shake your head, your lips leaving the water bottle he got you earlier.
“I'm fine. Hey, thanks for bringing me here by the way! I'm sure you'd rather come with your friends instead.”
Steve chuckles at the thought of him here with his friends. “Yeah, cause Dustin is a huge fan of sports.”
You giggle, gently nudging him with your shoulder. “You know what I mean, but this is an amazing first date!”
His smile gets wide. “Yeah?”
“Definitely! A great game and a cute guy? I'm the luckiest person in the world right now.”
Steve opens his mouth but stops when he hears the crowd start to cheer and clap loudly. His eyes drift to the huge screen displayed for the audience to see and his heart drops as the words kiss cam are flashing on the screen. As much as he'd love to kiss you, it wasn't ideal for him to do it with literally thousands of people watching.
The crowd lets out an awe as the camera pans over to a happy family, the parents kissing the baby’s cheeks causing her to smile and clap.
“I think I'm gonna get us some more food.” he nervously chuckles. He starts to stuff his phone in his pocket when you look over at him.
“Okay, I'll go with you!” you cheer out while standing up.
Steve begins to protest, assuring you that he can get the food himself when you gasp and point at the screen. The two of you are on there for the whole stadium to see and Steve feels like he has a giant target on his back. His face gets hot and he nervously hides his face behind his hands slowly sinking into the chair. You giggle and poke at his chest trying to get his attention back on you.
“Awe Steve! I didn't know you'd be so nervous!”
He shakes his head and peeks from behind his fingers letting out a groan when the camera is still on you two. You laugh and shake your head signaling the camera to find some other random couple.
Steve peeks once again, a sigh of relief leaving his body as the camera shows another couple.
“You know, if you didn't want to kiss me you could've said no.” you tease.
“It's not that I don't want to kiss you, I do. I just...not in front of the whole stadium. I mean, that guy got booed for kissing his girlfriend on the cheek!”
“To be fair, she did lean in for an actual kiss.”
“Yeah, poor girl.” Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I want to kiss you, I'm just nervous. I really like you and first dates already make me nervous, but a first date with you? I'm surprised it hasn't gone up in flames yet! I mean, sure I accidentally parked in a handicapped spot but that officer was rude for no fucking reason and-”
“Steve,” you said while grabbing his face. “I'm nervous too.”
“You are?” he asked with his cheeks still squished.
“Of course I am! You're Steve Harrington, girls talk a big game when it comes to you.”
His cheeks heat underneath your touch and his eyes are on everything but you.
“‘M not like that anymore. You got the new and improved Steve.”
You hum. “Can new and improved Steve kiss me?”
“Yeah, yeah he can definitely do that.”
Suddenly everyone around you disappears and it's just you and Steve, and god his lips feel so fucking nice on yours. Hearing about how good Steve is at kissing is one thing, but now that you're experiencing it you're happy to say that the rumors are true. Steve Harrington is a damn good kisser. The way his hand holds the back of your neck is so gentle, but the hand that's gripping your hip trying to bring you closer is what makes the butterflies swarm in your tummy.
Steve gets annoyed with the armrest that separates you two and has you faced at a weird angle, so he swiftly moves you from your seat to his lap, smiling when he hears you gasp. You both pull away panting for air with hooded eyes and rosy cheeks.
“Damn, what's a woman gotta do to get kissed like that?” an older woman next to you mumbled to herself. Your eyes widen and you look around you to see everyone’s eyes on you.
“Looks like they got their kiss,” Steve mumbles while pointing at the big screen that has you both on there.
“HELL YEAH MAN! GET ALL ON THAT!” a man shouts while clapping his hands. The crowd starts to cheer and whistle at the two of you while you rush off of his lap and back into your seat. You hide your face in your hands and men cheer for Steve and pat his back or shoulders, and you try your hardest not to laugh when women are asking you if he has an older brother.
Steve turns to you with a bashful smile on his face and clears his throat.
“Look, I really like you. I'm not saying you have to be with me right after this date, we can go as slow as you'd like.”
His eyes fall to his hands, too nervous to look at you any longer.
“If I'm being honest I’d wait for fucking ever if it meant I could call you mine.”
“Keep talking like that Steve and I’ll be yours by the end of this game.” you say with a smile on your face and your hand resting in his. Steve opens his mouth to say something but stops when a high pitched voice interrupts him.
“Ugh, why can't you talk to me like that Harold?!”
“Samantha, I'm trying to watch the game.”
"You always watch the game!"
"God, I need another beer."
You and Steve turn to the arguing couple that sits behind you before you both turn back to each other.
“We should probably go get that food.” Steve said, holding back a chuckle.
“Yeah, yeah we should.”
497 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Note
first off i just wanna say im loving everything youve written for ppls requests! how do u feel abt jock el? i feel like she maybe wouldnt understand sports at first and might struggle w the rules and fair play, but ends up really loving physical activity that has nothing to do w her powers, just her own hard work and sweat and skills she’s honed through practice all by herself, and the experience of being on a team. i can totally imagine her getting super competitive too, and being a super aggressive player in literally every sport. also, hopper is definitely the parent who yells at the referee and coaches during his kids games.
also i hope your day is going well whenever you see this!
Okay this was cuuuuuute. I really love the idea of El fitting in so well with sports people, but still never leaving her little group of nerds and badasses. I also love her just naturally being so good at every sport she tries because she is deeply in touch with what her body is capable of because of her powers, but never once using them. I maybe threw Wayne in a bit more than anyone would expect because I will always find a reason to do that. Also, this is a weird coincidence, but the Olympic swim trials for 2024 will take place in Indianapolis.- Mickala ❤️
-------------------------------------------------------
When things settle down, El goes back to school with everyone.
It’s hard at first. She never really fit in before, and she definitely doesn’t fit in now that people have seen official government security pretty much standing guard over her.
Even after they left, people still whispered when she ran errands with Joyce or Hop and went out with the rest of the party.
But she was determined to have as normal a life as she could, and that meant going to school.
High school here was better, even with the weird looks and silent bullies.
She had her friends.
She also had gym.
In California, she’d hated gym. She didn’t like getting dressed in front of everyone so she always got in trouble for taking too long. The girls in her class usually found ways to be lazy and she didn’t want to make herself more of an outcast, so she just didn’t participate most of the time.
But here, Lucas was in her gym class. So was Will, though he was a little hopeless when it came to anything beyond walking the mile.
Max was excused from gym for the rest of high school if she wanted.
Hard to argue with a letter from the literal President.
Mike and Dustin had a different period, but that was fine since they hated gym.
El didn’t hesitate to participate here.
She ran the fastest mile, always had the most push ups and pull ups, won every tetherball game. Her team always won volleyball and softball. She won every category in swimming.
The only sport she didn’t play was basketball, much to Steve’s disappointment and Lucas’ secret delight.
The coach recruited her for every sport he could, insisted that she could be the type of player that brings them championship wins.
Hopper was ecstatic, of course, especially when he saw how much El loved it.
She knew better than to use any powers, especially in competitions, but she was so naturally good, it didn’t even cross her mind that she could.
She was physically stronger than most other girls her age, and had already had so much done to her body that she could easily push through a little exhaustion during the 500 meter butterfly race or playing the entire soccer game with only one break.
She watched baseball games with Wayne and Hopper, asked if she could play.
Hopper had her signed up for softball the next day.
She saw a beach volleyball match during the Olympics and asked to play.
Hopper took her to tryouts for the school team as soon as he possibly could.
She made the swim team, made captain within a month. Steve was ecstatic, especially when she won against him every time they did a practice race. Eddie and Will were judges, and El was pretty sure it was just to see Steve shirtless, but she didn’t really mind.
She was having fun.
She was using her natural abilities to get out some of her aggression in a safe way according to Dustin.
Everyone came to her games and meets, but no one was as loud as her dad.
He was on his feet more than he was in his seat, usually pacing and yelling at refs and judges from the stands. Most people didn’t seem to care, or at least didn’t want to say anything to the reinstated police chief.
Steve was always there to remind him that El was learning, and that that was actually a penalty or that the judge was being fair on her tie with another girl in the butterfly.
Even as good as she was at just about every sport she tried, she struggled with some rules. Once they were explained in a way she understood, she was careful, but it cost her volleyball team a win in the process.
Steve helped her understand what he could, or took her to the library to look things up if he didn’t know. Wayne helped her understand the differences between softball and baseball while Eddie tried to take notes in the corner.
Actual notes.
“It’s so I know if she does good!” He explained when Wayne raised his brow at him showing interest in a sport.
To his credit, he immediately lost the notes he took and still had to ask Steve a bunch of questions at her next game.
She earned the MVP awards for every sport she played, gaining more positive attention than she’d expected. It was welcome, especially since it made a lot of people forget about the negative attention surrounding her the last few years.
Will designed shirts for everyone for her games and had Eddie get them printed at the same place he got the Hellfire Club ones made. They all wore them happily, too proud of her to not show all their support.
——————
Her senior year was when it hit that she had decisions to make.
She’d done fine in school; not straight A’s but never failed a class.
Sports are where she excelled.
But senior year was hard, and schedules were difficult enough without having to balance two sports at once immediately followed by two more.
The coaches did their best to offer accommodations since she was their star, but she didn’t like that. She didn’t want to be treated as “other.” That wasn’t why she did this.
So she dropped softball, much to Wayne’s heartbreak. He still smiled at her and said he was proud of everything she’d accomplished and hoped she’d still find time to come throw the ball with him.
She dropped volleyball in the spring, used the excuse that she needed to focus on swimming because she had scouts interested in giving her scholarships and the Olympic committee showed interest in recruiting her for Team USA.
Steve let her use his pool for extra practice, and usually joined her on the weekends for a morning swim, even on the still too cold mornings in February and March.
She held the Hawkins High and Indiana state records in most categories, and Midwest and National records in a few of those.
The olympic committee invited her to trials, and of course she’d enlisted Steve as her personal coach.
She trained for hours every day, Steve pushed her just enough using his new knowledge of the requirements she would have to meet to make the team and her competition.
She didn’t want everyone there, only Steve and Hopper.
She was worried having them there would put too much pressure on her and now wasn’t the time to perform poorly.
The morning of the trials, Steve let her cuddle up to his side on the couch.
“You’re ready.”
“That is not a question.”
“No, because I’m not asking. I know you’re ready,” he smiled when she rolled her eyes.
“I am ready.”
She was.
She outdid herself, actually. She ended up breaking her own record in her first event, and tied her own record in the second event.
She not only made the team, but was named captain almost immediately, the rest of her teammates incredibly excited to be on her team.
Hawkins had a parade for her, Hawkins High had a pep rally, the family had a huge party for her.
She still had to graduate high school, still competed on the high school swim team, even found time to be a lifeguard at the city pool every Friday and Saturday afternoon.
El had found her place.
—------------------------------
When USA won gold in every event for swimming, no one was surprised.
It’s hard to beat a team led by El.
She accepted a full ride scholarship to Purdue University, where she broke all their school records and got her degree in Physical Therapy so that she could work with athletes.
She competed in the Olympics again, winning gold in four events, silver in one.
But she always had her family there. They came from all over the country to watch, to support, wearing the same shirts that Will made years ago.
94 notes · View notes