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nataliescatorccioapologist · 1 month ago

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A Travis Martinez Deep Dive/Character Analysis

Let’s talk about one of the most (if not the most) controversial characters in Yellowjackets! I definitely feel like many of Travis’ scenes and actions are misunderstood, so let’s dive in to his character and understand why he does what he does.

General Information

Travis Martinez is portrayed by Kevin Alves. He is described as being 16 years-old in the first drafts of the scripts, although it is unclear if he is still 16 in the final product or if he was aged up to 17 like the rest of the main cast in the teen timeline. His introduction in the script describes him as “lanky, sullen, teetering on the awkward, hormonal edge of impending hotness, a sensitive kid doing his absolute damndest to pretend he doesn’t care about anything.”

Travis attends Wiskayok High School in the (fictional) town of Wiskayok, New Jersey. His family consists of his father, Bill Martinez (who is the head coach of the Yellowjackets girls soccer team at WHS), his mother, and his little brother, Javi.

Relationship with His Family

We get a very brief glimpse into Travis’ home life before the crash in the Pilot episode, but it does give us a few hints of the conflicts present in his family. We see that Travis’ parents seem to have a distant relationship, with Travis’ father attempting to give his mother a kiss goodbye and her initially being resistant to it, but giving in only when she sees Travis watching. Travis rolls his eyes at this interaction, telling us it’s a common occurrence. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m definitely getting the sense that Coach Martinez has had some extramarital affairs and that Travis’ parents are only still married for the sake of keeping the family together.

Travis confesses to Nat that Coach Martinez was “a shit dad” and that he “didn’t even like” Travis. I think, at least in Travis’ mind, he has never been good enough to measure up to his father’s expectations. We get to see a brief sample of what Coach Martinez's parenting style may have been like in his scene with Jackie, in which his version of a "pep talk" is telling Jackie all of the ways in which the other girls on the team are better than her. I have a feeling Travis' dad often took the same approach with Travis; a gruff, "tough-love" demeanor that only resulted in a deep sense of inadequacy.

This dynamic has affected Travis' relationship with Javi, as well. My interpretation of their relationship is that, while Travis does deeply love and care for Javi, he also harbors some resentment towards him for receiving more softness and support from their father. This resentment only grows when the plane crashes and Travis is left completely responsible for Javi. He's feeling the pressure of having to be an example of masculinity for Javi and his new role as a father figure for Javi, all while dealing with the grief of his father's death. He's overwhelmed and afraid, and therefore he takes this out on Javi, which we can see particularly in the scene where he makes Javi spit out the gum their father gave him.

Travis is likely replicating the harsh parenting style of their father with Javi; it's all he knows. But, underneath, Travis loves Javi; enough to put himself through the trauma of digging up his father's corpse to get a ring for him and to trek through miles of snow in sub zero temperatures for months looking for him after he runs away.

This is why it is so, so heartbreaking when Travis loses Javi just as he's learning to show how much he loves him. My heart breaks at the thought that Travis will have to come back home and tell his mother that his father and little brother are dead.

Toxic Masculinity

It’s no secret that Travis is deeply, deeply insecure. And, as is the case with many young men, this insecurity manifests itself through sexism, unhealthy stoicism, hostility, and anger. It is important to remember that Travis is a teenager in the 90s, a time in which the sexualization of women in media was rampant. The Third Wave of feminism was underway, and with it came an increase of misogyny and backlash from men. Sexist jokes and comments were the norm, and Travis was likely surrounded by them in high school. As a result, we hear him call the girls "idiots," we hear him compare them to girls in porn magazines, we hear him tell Nat she should stick to "folding laundry" and "sucking ___" (we all know how that sentence was going to end). There's no true excuse for it, it's abhorrent behavior and it's unacceptable no matter what time period this is.

However, if we look into Travis' past, we can definitely find an explanation. Much of Travis' behavior can be drawn back to his insecurity and feeling that he is not good enough. We know he was bullied throughout high school as a result of Bobby Farleigh's "Flex" comment and we know that he feels like his father never really liked him; that he never felt good enough for him. Another aspect of Travis' insecurity can also be linked back to the idea of masculinity that has been fed to him by society: the strong, macho, stoic ideal. And it's clear (especially in Season 2) that Travis just does not fit this ideal. He's soft and sensitive, and because this goes directly against what he thinks he should be, he feels shame and embarrassment in himself.

And what do men do when they feel shame, insecurity, and/or sadness? They lash out. Men aren't allowed to show vulnerability, so they instead replace it with a more acceptable emotion: anger. And we definitely see this in the way that Travis lashes out at the people around him. And to make matters worse, Travis is one of the only men out there in the wilderness, making him feel even more pressure to be the strong masculine figure society expects him to be.

Reaction to Trauma

The pressure Travis feels to be "manly" bleeds into his response to trauma, as well. Travis has just watched his father die in a brutal and gruesome manner right before his eyes, and now he's out in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of teenage girls and a little brother to take care of. Most people would break down and cry.

Travis, on the other hand, is strangely apathetic. His only expression of emotion is anger. He snaps at Nat when she suggests that he help his brother, he yells at Javi and forces him to spit out the gum that is his only connection left to his father, he steals food from the others and blatantly insults them, and he essentially tells Javi to "get over it." Travis' coping mechanisms are clear: he distracts his grief with anger and he pushes away anyone that could possibly offer him support.

We see this again with another very significant trauma Travis endures: his sexual assault the night of Doomcoming. Travis is sexually assaulted by an entire group of girls, he clearly begs for them to stop (and they don't), and then he runs for his life and is almost killed. No one ever acknowledges this trauma and the next morning Travis is back to his usual ways, snapping at Natalie when she tries to emotionally support him and attempting to hurt her feelings to get her to stay away from him.

But it's clear, in both of these instances, that, underneath, Travis does care, and he is hurting. Despite him yelling at Javi, he wants to get his father's ring to make it up to him and support him. And when Nat doesn't budge and insists on helping him, Travis breaks down sobbing and admits that he "didn't want to" and that he is in love with her. (And in the script he even says that he wishes that Shauna had killed him that night, that's how strong his pain and shame are after Doomcoming!) Travis' hostile and abrasive behaviors are really a front he puts on to avoid being vulnerable, letting people in, and admitting to himself that he's struggling.

Relationship with Nat

Given Travis' tendency to push people away and hide his vulnerability, it’s not surprising that he forms a romantic connection with someone who mirrors his response to trauma: Natalie.

Their relationship starts off on shaky ground, marked by Travis' initial misogynistic remarks and even an incident where he points a loaded gun at Natalie. Despite this, Natalie is the only person who seems able to see through Travis' anger. Her own experiences with trauma—particularly the loss of her father—give her a deep understanding of what Travis is going through. Like him, she has developed a habit of distancing herself from others, driven by the pain of watching her father die and the lingering guilt of feeling responsible for his death.

This shared trauma—witnessing their fathers’ deaths and carrying the weight of guilt—creates the foundation of their connection. One pivotal moment that cements this bond is the scene where Natalie makes her first kill. Kevin Alves has explained that when Natalie and Travis kneel beside the dying deer and exchange a knowing look, it symbolizes the shared grief they both carry. In this moment, they are not just mourning the animal but, more profoundly, mourning their fathers together.

This scene serves as the emotional cornerstone of their relationship, which stretches over the next 25 years. Both Natalie and Travis are driven by guilt, shame, and self-loathing, and they both struggle with showing vulnerability. They have a pattern of pushing people away before anyone can get too close—a tragic cycle that defines their bond. They are trauma bonded and similar in all of the worst ways, which is what makes them so codependent and enmeshed, as they believe that no one else will ever understand them the way they understand each other.

Of course, Travis’ insecurity finds its way into his relationship with Nat, too. When Nat and Travis discuss having sex for the first time, Travis infamously asks Nat how many guys she has slept with. Nat immediately bristles, thinking that Travis is implying that she’s a “slut”, but, as the scene unfolds, we realize that Travis is actually just insecure about his own virginity in comparison with Nat’s sexual experience. He’s worried that, because of Jackie’s previous comments about Nat, sex with him won’t mean anything to Nat, whereas it would mean a lot to Travis. We can see how much relief he feels when Nat assures him that it does mean something to her, and “especially with him"; when she affirms he is good enough.

Travis’ tendency to get in his own head unfortunately makes itself known again when they actually attempt to sleep together; when Travis can’t get it up and runs out of the room. I think the script for this scene reveals a lot about what is actually going on in Travis’ head:

Travis’ feelings of inadequacy are spiraling here. He’s in awe of Nat and doesn’t feel good enough, and the pressure he’s putting on himself as a result is too much for him (and other parts of him…) to handle. As time passes in the wilderness and Travis lets go of some of his insecurity, we can see he becomes more communicative and releases some of his ego and insecurity as he discovers his spirituality (which we'll get into more in the next section).

Travis's love for Natalie is undeniable, but their relationship is inevitably toxic due to their shared trauma and self-destructive behaviors. After the crash, both turned to drug addiction as a way to numb their pain. Though they’ve tried to help each other stay clean over the years, their connection often pulls them back into destructive patterns. Every time Travis seems to be on the path to recovery, Natalie reappears, and she drags him back down with her again.

Javi’s death will create a huge, irreparable rift between them. It’s likely that Travis harbors deep resentment toward Natalie, not only for surviving when Javi didn’t but also for being a constant reminder of his lost brother. Yet, paradoxically, she is all he has left, and the thought of losing her, too, is unbearable. Despite their genuine love and care for each other, their relationship is fundamentally harmful.

Spirituality, Relationship with “The Wilderness,” and Development of a More Feminine Sense of Self

Season 2 marks a major shift in Travis’ character, and much of this is due to his newfound connection to Lottie. Travis’ desperation to find Javi makes him crave a sense of hope, and therefore makes him open to the idea of The Wilderness. Travis begins attending Lottie’s rituals, and expresses gratefulness towards her for the blood tea and reassurance that Javi is alive. As Travis becomes increasingly attached to Lottie and The Wilderness, we also see him become kinder, softer, and more vulnerable. Travis’ connection to The Wilderness allows him to release the societal norms and expectations that previously guided his toxic behaviors. He can let go of society’s idea of manhood and become a more authentic version of himself. We see that Travis has started to let himself show weakness, express emotion, and is much more open-minded and willing to consider other perspectives.

Lottie definitely becomes an important person to Travis in Season 2. I want to make something clear right now because I feel like it it very often misinterpreted. The writers have stated that Travis’ connection with Lottie is not meant to be interpreted as sexual in nature. Rather, Travis’ scenes with Lottie are meant to represent his spiritual connection with her and his need for guidance. The infamous sex scene between Natalie and Travis in which Travis has visions of Lottie present in the room is not Travis wishing Lottie was in Nat’s place, rather it is meant to represent the internal battle Travis is experiencing between his romantic love for Nat and his need for hope and spiritual belief. Lottie is being shown as a spiritual, religious figure in this scene. She’s not depicted in a sexual manner in Travis’ visions, but rather in a nurturing, holy light.

Nat and Lottie are directly opposed in this Season, with Nat representing pragmatism and Lottie representing faith. Travis is caught in the middle with his romantic connection to Nat and his faith in Lottie. While Nat tells him his brother is dead, Lottie tells him she knows he’s alive. Travis loves Nat, but it’s clear their differences in faith are creating a rift between them, and this rift is symbolized visually in their sex scene.

While Travis’ turn towards faith and spirituality does bring out a better, more likable side of him, it does, unfortunately, directly lead to his death in the adult timeline. While we likely won't get to see any more of Travis' story in the adult timeline, I am looking forward to seeing how he continues to develop in the wilderness and how his newfound spirituality and increasing disconnection with society will change him as a person.

Overall, while Travis can certainly be a deeply dislikable character at times, his development over the past two seasons has been fascinating to watch and he definitely has some hidden complexities that are starting to reveal themselves to the audience. Here's to Travis continuing to connect to his feminine side in Season 3!

#sorry this is absurdly long i just had so much to say i needed to yap about this insecure little man so badly #im going to do lottie next yall #sorry for doing a man first in this series #idk whats wrong with me #travis martinez #travis get behind me #yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #travnat #javi martinez

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beauty-and-passion · 3 months ago

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TBOB PART 2: OF FLATLAND, EXWHYLIA AND EUCLYDIA (4/4)

Contrary to my expectations, we’ve finally reached the fourth part of this TBOB part 2 analysis. And we’re doing it, by talking about the last thing to talk about: the destruction of Euclydia.

As always, for all disclaimers, please check the first post. For all premises and in order to better understand this post, check the previous ones too.

<- Previous post - Masterlist

_______________________________

VALLIS CINERIS

“Technically, talking about a “third” dimension was illegal in my world. But I knew that everyone would be grateful if they could be freed from their delusions! IT WAS TIME TO PUT ON A SHOW”

From this moment on, we just have fragments of what happened and they are as follows:

“-I came up with a plan to show everyone what they were missing! I simply- their screams getting louder and louder as I my hands, shaking as I realized I could never undo th- was the last one breathi- episodes of “family matter until there was no one left but me, covered in blood, alone in the universe."

We don’t know what Bill exactly did. However, we can assume what he did, based on these words, his powers (check PART 1 analysis posts) and what Bill said/showed Ford during Weirdmageddon:

We know that Bill can see and alter other dimensions. And he wanted to “show everyone what they were missing”.

But how can you show something to someone who cannot see it? His people didn’t have eyes inside like him. He was the only one with an eye on the surface and not on the side.

Now let’s connect this to Bill’s ability to alter dimensions, to the Saturn being flattened.

What if this is exactly the show Bill wanted to put on? Instead of forcing the others to look up and tilt the entire world - which could’ve helped, but I doubt it: if you lift the entire surface, the shapes inside can still see just the surface. In order for them to see above, you need to do something like in the Flatland movie and lift the shape itself, by putting it on one side and turning it towards what you want to show.

Nah, it’s way easier to “simply” bring what’s above and “put” it down at Euclidean’s eye level, so everyone could’ve seen it.

Also, it would be more coherent with Bill’s powers, because it seems that, when he was in Euclydia, he still wasn’t able to enter other dimensions, just see and alter them. So what if, in his naive attempt to help others see what he was seeing, he flattened a third dimension in 2D and tried to put it on/inside his own?

That’s why this event is probably referred to as a massacre and “the 2D incident”. Because it was both. It was a stupid attempt at flattening a bigger dimension into a smaller one and it killed everyone. Of course Bill was shaking, “as I realized I could never undo” what he did.

And now, these parts:

was the last one breathi-

Who could ever be the last one breathing in his destroyed world, if not one of the two figures who are still haunting him? And why it’s 90% sure it was his mother?

episodes of “family matter”

If you put the code VALLIS CINERIS on thisisnotawebsitedotcom, you aren’t just greeted by the grayed-out silhouette of Bill’s parents, but also by a voice repeating “why did you do it?”. And, as someone pointed out on the internet, this is a common line in several Family Matter episodes.

So, considering that the previous chunk of text about someone being the last one breathing isn’t so far away from this part, we can use angst to fill in the blanks and imagine that, while the entire world was burning down and Bill was standing there unable to do anything, his mother, the shape who loved him the most, got her last strength to ask him “why did you do it?”, before dying. The last words Bill heard from his mother were a question that would haunt him forever.

Free angst for everyone, you're welcome.

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The lone survivor

“The important thing is, I freed myself from my suffocating world, and freed everyone else too, and everyone loved me for it, and everyone was fine! And that’s all there is to say about that!”

And so here we are: someone who destroyed his place, but convinced himself he was liberating it.

And do you know what the most tragic thing is? That Bill is somehow right. For the little we know (and the thousand Flatland references on the way), Euclydia was a tight world. There is no doubt that if Bill stayed inside it, he would’ve died, been blinded, or both. There is no doubt Euclydia was a flat world, too little for someone who dreamed of being among the stars.

But despite hating it, hating the kids and hating the optometrist, Bill still loved his home. The “home” mentioned in the Axolotl poem. A home that is not just a physical place, but a place of mind. Home being his parents, his “miserable family, who tried to snuff out my talents”, and hurt him by thinking it was helping him. Home being the parents who loved him while others didn't.

And Bill kept something of them. He kept the hat - and probably the bowtie too. And he kept his own dimension with him. He kept the last speck of his place with him for trillions of years.

If this doesn’t make you go feral, I don’t know what it does.

Also: maybe it’s just me, but could this be a reference to the glow points from the Flatland movie? Because it would be cool as hell and I would cry even more.

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“A guy who tried”

Take my words with a grain of salt, because it may just be me overanalyzing one line, but I’m talking about what Bill said here, during the “monster conversation” he had with Ford.

During their conversation about their homes, first Ford asks “do you even wonder if maybe… maybe things could have been different?”, to which Bill replies:

“Take it from a guy who tried - you can’t undo the past! Unless you want to thaw a giant baby out of a glacier.”

Maybe it’s just me, but this would explain a couple things.

First of all, that Bill tried to undo his mistake. He tried to get his dimension back. But, as he said, you cannot undo the past… unless you get a giant baby.

What if this is what he tried to do? What if he asked for Time Baby’s help, to get Euclydia back? What if he explained it was a mistake and pleaded for him to go back in time and bring everyone back?

This would actually explain A LOT. Like:

why&how Bill and Time Baby know each other

why Time Baby doesn’t really want to fight Bill

this parts from the transcript on thisisnotawebsitedotcom under the code TANTRUM:

I KNOW YOUR CRIMES, CIPHER. TAKING A NEW HOME WILL NOT MAKE UP FOR THE ONE YOU’VE LOST. WHAT YOU DID TO THE COUNTLESS SOULS OF EUCLYDIA- Cipher stopped in his tracks. YOU CHOOSE YOUR WORDS VERY. CAREFULLY.

and especially this part:

(SHAKING HIS HEAD IN DISTAIN) WHAT WOULD YOUR PARENTS SAY IF THEY COULD SEE WHAT YOU’VE BECOME. WHAT WOULD SCAL-

Time Baby knows Bill’s crimes, because Bill told him what he did - and Time Baby probably saw it too. And, more importantly, Time Baby knows the names of Bill’s parents, because it was Bill himself who asked Time Baby to bring them back.

This would also explain these words Hisch said about them in 2015:

"Time Baby and Bill do not like each other, if they saw each other at a party they would be doing that 'awkward circle thing' where they're making eye contact but they're not talking to each other and everybody's like 'Do they know each other? Do they have a history?'"

If my theory is correct, the 'awkward circle thing' would make a lot of sense.

And, well, this would also explain why they don’t like each other - especially from Bill’s side. Because not even the one dealing with time was able to help him and for someone as spoiled as Bill, not getting what he wanted was probably what made him hate Time Baby so much.

In addition to that, somehow, Ford confirms that this reasoning is right, considering that in the same conversation, he says: “I guess you can never really go home again, can you?”. He used an impersonal “you”, but the specific phrase “going home again” seems to confirm my assumption that Bill really tried to get his dimension back.

So with no more solutions left, all that was left for Bill was one thing only: denial.

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A monster in denial

In light of all of this, the “reality is an illusion” and “morality” pages in TBOB tell us a lot about how Bill didn’t deal with his trauma.

Reality is an illusion? Of course it is, since Bill built his own reality. Nothing is real, because everything he made around himself is the result of his denial.

And the three points of morality? Denial is the foundation of his reasoning, rationalization how he decided that what he did was good and detachment is how he kept surviving for billions of years, without facing his trauma.

Of course all of this would lead to karma - Bill literally ended up in therapy for everything he did. And yet, he still latches to denial, down to the last pages of the book: he pretends he’s fine, everything is fine, he doesn’t need anyone and doesn’t miss anyone.

Therapy is gonna take forever on him.

_______________________________

And with such a happy note, we can close this part too. It has been endless, but what we got for Bill’s backstory was super juicy and important and I wanted to point out the connections with Flatland and Exwhylia too, so it got longer than expected.

But do not fret: we will meet again very soon, with the third and final part about Bill’s solitude, his relationships and, of course, Billford. Especially Billford. I have eight years of thoughts about this ship and you will sit down and listen, whether you like it or not.

No, you cannot escape: it’s too late.

See you soon~

Next part ->

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

📌TAGLIST: @mudpuddlenl @allmycrushesaredead @aquatedia @whatishappeningrightnow @effortiswhatmatters @bella-in-a-bag @doydoune @forever-third-wheeling @payte @hypnossanders @idontreallyknow24 @imcrushedbyarainbowoffical @patton-cake-and-crofters @hereissananxiousmess @purplebronzeandblue @cynicalandsarcastic @lost-in-thought-20 @andtheyreonfire @riseofthewerewolf @rosesandlove44 @arya-skywalker @csi-baker-street-babes @reesiereads @dracayd-universe @starlightnyx @stubbornness-and-spite @averykedavra @joyrose-fandomer @mihaela-tbg @igonnatalknothing @thatoneloudowl @grayson-22 @softangryfuckingdepressed @theotherella @nevenastark @coldbookworm @boopypastaissalty @varthandiveturinn @roses-bubbles @cuter-on-the-inside @snixxxsmythe @charmingcritter @analogical-mess @emphasis-on-the-oopsie @selfdestructivecat @yangwalkerao3 @the3rddenialist

#gravity falls #the book of bill #tbob #the book of bill spoilers #book of bill #book of bill spoilers #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #this is not a website dot com #gravity falls fandom #gravity falls meta #bill cipher #flatland #exwhylia #euclydia #euclid cipher #scalene cipher

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literary-illuminati · 11 days ago

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2024 Book Review #56 – Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

At the start of the year, I set out to try and read more proper literature. Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow was not a book I had ever heard of, or by an author I knew anything at all about. But it was on my local bookstore's and local library’s staff pick lists, and has a bunch of awards, and I think showed up on some list of Goodreads recommendations. So 9 months later I finally worked down the list to it and went in totally unprepared and with zero expectations or preconceptions.

The book’s well-written and well-executed, but I can’t say it really worked for me. Or properly, it absolutely was working for the first two thirds or so, but by the end just felt like it lost a lot of the touches that had made it interesting and was just drowning in its own sentimentality.

The book follows Sam and Sadie, two Californian wunderkunds growing up in Los Angelos in the 1980s. They meet in a children’s hospital, where Sam is being treated for a foot the was nearly shattered in a car crash and Sadie is visiting her elder sister as she’s treated for cancer. The two of them instantly begin bonding over playing Super Mario Brothers and begin a friendship and a creative partnership that will - as they grow up and found an artistically and commercially successful video game studio in the late 90s – define the shape of both of their lives, no matter how turbulent and conflicted it at points becomes.

For reasons that probably boil down to the audiobooks my mother played on road trips as a child, I’ve always had a fondness for books that track the broad sweep of a life or lives, zooming out and stretching across the years and decades. So I actually digested this a decent bit more easily than I do a lot of modern litfic that I’ve tried. For the first few hundred pages, it all even holds together very well, bouncing around the timeline and providing childhood episodes and context as it's relevant and making the central relationships compelling and emotionally plausible. Unfortunately a couple of experiments in form (one worked for me, one really didn’t) eat up a lot of page count in the final act, and entirely kill the sense of flow and structure. Not at all helped by the narrative voice losing a lot of its charm and the story growing wholly predictable (and a bit saccharine) in the closing pages.

I say ‘central relationships’ and not ‘relationship’ because describing the book as being about the relationship between Sam and Sadie is just, basically false advertising? Marx – Sam’s college roommate, later Sadie’s boyfriend, the business manager of their video game studio - is for most of the book at least as important a character as the two leads. He’s a much less interesting character – entirely too much of a natural saint, compared to how very flawed and petty Sam and Sadie are both allowed to be – but he’s a key part of the dynamic and most of the book is properly about different permutations of the trio bouncing off of each other. No other character gets a tenth of the focus and exploration of those three, and are really more props for narrative and to incite development than anything else.

The book has (until the end, anyway) a strong narrative voice that I really enjoyed, but which also may have caused me to set my expectations entirely wrong for what the book was actually planning. The only way I can really describe it is that the book reads like one of those New Yorker longreads that are trying very hard to convince you they’re not just rubbernecking some fascinatingly dysfunctional relationships and personal drama among some semi-notable creative figures. Your Bad Art Friends and similar. Deeply opinionated and gossipy, but making a show of seeming detached and objective, always making asides written from the perspective of the modern day and quoting interviews from years later about events as they occur in the narrative. As someone who is a slightly guilty fan of exactly those kind of longreads, it did make for a very fun reading experience.

But it also made me get my hopes up. Which is to say, the early chapters make quite a few references to how latter in life Sam and Sadie wouldn’t be on speaking terms, and how ‘something’ happened at Unfair Games in 2005. I was looking forward to something some messy and newsworthy interpersonal drama of the kind that doesn’t leave either of them (or anyone) looking good. The falling out does occur, but in a way that’s mostly just piles of misunderstandings and a stubborn refusal to communicate from both of them. The company always stays ostensibly together, and things never get much worse than quietly cherished bitterness and a refusal to speak. Which feels very emotionally believable, as incredibly frustrating as it is. The dramatic rupture that happens in 2005, well-

The book’s use of violence always feels slightly unreal. It intrudes on the narrative in ways that, like, they are things that happen, but feel so exaggerated and on-the-nose they took me out of the reading experience, at least a bit. A woman jumps off her balcony to her death and happens to land right in front of a young Sam. His mother stops her car on an LA highway to avoid hitting a dog, and he asks her something that keeps her talking and not moving for the crucial moment before an SUV slams into them, killing her and permanently damaging his foot. And the great end-of-second-act rupture that occurs in 2005 is a pair of homophobic gunmen storming into their office and shooting Marx because their cozy MMO lets gay people get married. Any one would have been fine, but combined they make the illusion of violence as random and capricious wear a bit thin and the writerly artifice underneath a bit too clear, at least for me.

As far as period pieces go – the story isn’t nostalgia bait, but it isn’t not nostalgia bait, either? It’s a few years before my time, so I suppose I just don’t appreciate it properly – the experience of growing up in and living through the late ‘80s through 2000s is one the book cares deeply about replicating. It generally does an excellent job making things feel of-the-moment, if occasionally by having the narrative draw pretty heavy-handed comparisons to what would be different in the present. The aesthetics (fashion, public art and marketing, fads and consumer trends) are all there, and the characters experience them like people to whom they’re novel and trendy. (Personally I could have done with a bit less effort spent describing every single outfit, but if I had memories of what people actually looked like wearing them I might appreciate it more.) It does similar things with LA and (to a far lesser extent) Boston – every other place the book touches on feels vague and a bit unreal, but LA is rendered with a real sense of place and love for the city and it’s little eccentricities.

The area where the book is absolutely nostalgia-bait is video games, and the whole heroic era of rapid changes and improvements to the medium where new boundaries were being crossed every year and a handful of sufficiently talented and dedicated first-time devs could create something genuinely revolutionary. The book even manages the neat trick of making almost every fake game the protagonists create a) plausible for the era and technology and b) actually seem like something I would want to play (less so the Pioneerville MMO created in the final act, as with many things). But I do genuinely want to play Master of Revels quite badly.

The book does share a common failing with what feels like almost every period piece, where by complete coincidence the major characters all conveniently happen to be on the Right Side of History for every really major (that is, from the perspective of the present, character-defining) political issues. This is made a bit more irritating by the fact that despite all being quite radical on the issue of e.g. gay marriage (or just not being even slightly homophobic) from the vantage of the early Bush administration, none of Sadie, Sam or Marx ever even conceive of it as being political.

The book doesn’t conceive of itself as really having politics at all – but again, in the way of a New York Magazine feature where having certain sets of liberal convictions is just a matter of personal decency and morality. A certain unexpressed but present sexual conservativism, a view of class where Sam’s grandparents owning and running a successful restaurant counts as being from the wrong side of the tracks, hyper-conscious of race but without much to really say about it. You’re all familiar with the style, I’m sure.

Anyway yeah, not a bad book by any means, but one that lasted long enough and ended weakly enough to expend any real passion or affection I’d built up for it.

#book review #tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow #gabrielle zevin #literature

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bloodyinkandquill · 2 months ago

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Ghostwalker x Reader learning about the deities

ok so this person wanted reader to go to ghostdeeri’s library to learn about the deities, gets more curious about ghostwalker, somehow date from there, oh and ghostdeeri being ghostwalker’s daughter, i didn’t know what exactly to call this one lmao, anyways uh, have at thee

- Everyone in the Inpherno knew who the swords were, you were an idiot to not at least know their names and that they were dangerous, it wasn’t unheard of to not know any more than that however, and that’s you, you knew their names and that they were deities but that was about it, but after seeing what you were 90% sure was one of them, you decided to learn more

- You decide to visit a library, there’s this cute cozy looking one you’ve seen in Crossroads so you decide to go there to do your research, the woman who owns it looks unlike anyone you’ve ever seen it, you ask her if she has a section on the swords, she points you to it saying if you have any questions she’s there to help, you thank her and go off

- The section is about one bookshelf, they almost all have the same author which you find interesting, looking around the place most of them have the same author, you decide not to question it and start reading, they’re actually rather fascinating, there’s different levels of knowledge about the deities, some far more known then others, after some time you rights out who you believe you saw was Ghostwalker, you ask the worker what she knows about him, she actually knows a lot, more than you expected since form what you read he was one of the less social deities

- You ask her how she knows so much and she asks by your curious about him, you recount your tale of what you think was encountering him, she seems surprised and says he doesn’t usually show himself to mortals, you repeat your question and she says her name is Ghostdeeri, she’s his daughter, that was definitely not the answer you were expecting, she says he must have taken a liking to you if you saw him

- You talk more about him and the other deities, she asks your name so next time she sees him she can ask about you, a day later you se whim again for a moment, not long enough to say anything though, a few days later when you return to the library Ghostdeeri says when she spoke to her father he said that he had never seen a mortal like you, and he wanted to know more, you were rather confused, you had always thought of yourself as average overall, you thank her and decided to go home and do some online research

- Two days later your chilling at a park when you feel like someone’s staring at you, you look over and see Ghostwalker, you wave at him and try to look approachable, he comes up to you and you begin a conversation, it’s odd, he’s an odd being, you also have no clue how he’s speaking but you don’t comment on any of that, you slowly get to know each other more, talking whenever you see him, which sometimes is multiple days in a row, other times you don’t see him for two weeks

- After one week of not seeing him you go to Ghostdeeri’s library again to return a book and she starts a conversation with you, talking about how like it mentions in books and junk her father can’t feel regular emotions, but when she saw him the other day he seemed off, after talking she realized he had caught romantic feelings, towards you, you were shocked, you? You always you thought you were just an average demon, but a god likes you? That was not something you ever expected

- You think it over and next time you see him you ask if he’d like to try dating, he is a little hesitant but agrees, it’s a learning process for him but your there laughing and helping him figure it out

hope this is good! it was too long to be a drabble so it’s not, might do one for another one of my requests i have rn, we’ll see, the blondies are cooling i had to hold off on baking them but imma go transfer them to a cooling rack so i can cut them soon

#x reader #phighting #phighting x reader #phighting!#phighting ghostwalker x reader #ghostwalker x reader phighting #ghostwalker x reader #phighting ghostwalker #ghostwalker phighting

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noosayog · 2 years ago

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[Hate That You Know Me] in which you hate Kita because he's hot

wc: 1.7k

warnings/content: wouldn't be a true noosayog piece without a hint of jealousy, minimal angst, mostly fluff, enemies-to-lovers

You’re not a very big fan of your tutor, Kita Shinsuke. He's straight-arrow, strict, and unsociable. He’s not very kind when you get something wrong, either. After the third question you answer incorrectly, Kita sighs and closes the textbook in his hands.

“Let’s just pick up tomorrow.”

“Fine,” you huff. He didn’t have to sigh that loud. It’s not like you were stupid. You just cared about things other than scoring higher than 90 points in every subject. You wanted to enjoy your youth and high school life. Besides, you were scoring above average in almost every subject. When your parents confronted you about a mere 70 points you received on a History quiz, you didn’t think it a big deal. Until Grandma Yumie in the neighborhood offered up her smart grandson, who happens to be top of his class, as your tutor. Without your consent, your parents had approached Kita with a part-time job offer tutoring you after school.

“Kita has volleyball practice afterschool!” you refute, face warm from the embarrassment of your parents sucking up to whom they thought was a “handsome, young man” and the 70-point exam Kita was currently studying. You had never really known Kita that well, but everyone in your grade knows him. You stare at him with wide, intent eyes, begging and signaling him to turn down the offer, make an excuse, say he was busy, anything. But he doesn’t even spare you a glance.

“I can help after volleyball practice, if that’s not too late.”

Your mom squeals in delight and bows a thank you. You huff out a harsh breath and that’s what finally gets Kita’s attention.

“I’m sure you can improve with practice,” he nods at you.

–

It’s your 3rd studying session, when Kita notices it.

“You’re not really that bad at History.”

“I know,” you deadpan. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time.”

He ponders this. “Why did you agree to tutoring then?”

You’re going to blow a gasket for sure. “I didn’t!”

He tilts his head, in genuine confusion, but that doesn’t make you any less pissed off. In fact, his obliviousness makes you even angrier.

“Why didn’t you tell your parents you didn’t need it?”

“I’m going to strangle you,” you mumble to yourself. “I did. Did they seem like the type who would listen?”

“You should’ve been more direct with them, then,” he says archly. “Let’s keep going.”

– Your relationship with Kita is mutual dislike. Well, he doesn’t seem to hate you the same way you openly express your disdain for him, but he certainly hasn’t been the kindest to you. He says things like, “I would expect that you don’t get these easy questions wrong,” “please stop being difficult and answer the next question,” or here’s the kicker: “don’t project your frustrations on me.”

That one made you want to push him out the window.

When you ask your classmates what they think of him, most of them describe him as a model student who’s always willing to help if you ask. Apparently, he’s kind, smart, captain of the popular volleyball team, and it helps that he’s hot. Well, he doesn’t show a single bit of that side to you. He’s mean, even a little petty.

When you complain to Aran, he just laughs. “Kita’s just teasing.”

You scrunch your nose up in response.

–

One afternoon, your club activities go longer than you’re expecting. You set out to find Kita to let him know. You don’t know what comes over you, but you ask, “do you just want to walk home together? I can wait for you.” Your face feels hot and you don’t look him in the eyes.

“No, thanks,” he fires back, without even pausing for a second to think about it.

“What, why!” Was walking home with you so bad? Besides, it just makes sense. You’re going to the same place anyway!

“Go home by yourself, before it gets dark.” he says, before turning around to go back into the gym.

“Fine!” and you stomp away. He didn’t have to turn you down that hard. It wasn’t like you were asking him out on a date or anything. Your face is warm and your heart is pounding. You tell yourself it’s indignation, but feel the hurt seeping through your ribcage into your heart.

You’re dreading that night’s study session, but Kita acts completely like normal when he arrives at your house. You’re still flustered and reeling from the embarrassment of his rejection, running your mind in circles at why you’re so bothered by it.

“What’s on your mind?” he prompts.

“Nothing,” you mumble.

“You’re not focused at all. You’ll never improve at this rate.”

Had you not been so wrapped up in reminding yourself that you hated him, you might have noticed the teasing intonation in his voice and the slight tilt of his lips upwards in a discrete smirk. But all you hear is the usual patronizing tone and your frustrations burst like a dam at how unaffected he is.

“I’m thinking about you!” you yell. “You and your stupid… stupid… just stupid!”

He’s looking at you with his signature stoic demeanor, but you catch the slight puff of air he lets out and the twitch of his lips.

“Are you laughing?” you ask incredulously. What was so funny about this situation? You’re in a crisis here, and he’s the epicenter!

He clears his throats and stands up. “Let’s go to the convenience store. You need a cold drink or snack to calm down.”

Your mind is whirling and a part of you is starting to understand that you’re letting yourself get jerked around, but you follow anyway.

–

You’re on autopilot the entire journey until the two of you run into a girl who you vaguely recognize from school. Kita leaves your side and approaches her.

“Suna, what are you doing out so late by yourself?”

“My brother was supposed to be with me, but I don’t know where he went. Probably just went home ahead of me. It’s okay, I’m going home now anyway.”

You watch with growing resentment as Kita pats her head and gives her a gentle smile you’ve never been on the receiving end of. “We’ll take you home. You shouldn’t be walking home by yourself at this hour.”

So he wanted to walk this Suna girl home, but it was okay to let you go home by yourself earlier?

“Is that okay?” she asks, glancing at you.

“Yes, of course.” Kita responds as you stare at the ground.

–

Kita and Suna seem to know each other well enough. She even seems to know all the news about the volleyball season and the two of them are chatting animatedly about the upcoming opponents and strategies. You follow sulkily, five gaping feet behind them. Kita seems to be in a great mood, all laughs and smiles, and you hate him for it.

Turns out, Suna’s house is close by and she bows a polite goodbye when you all arrive at her door.

“Let’s go,” he turns to you.

You turn your cheek to him. “I can go home by myself. We’re done studying tonight, anyway.”

“Hey, c'mon. I can’t let you walk home by yourself at this hour.”

You want to whirl on your heels and give him your fiercest glare and snarl to scare him off, but you just say, “it’s fine. It’s not like I need to be walked home anyway.” Even you hear the hurt in your voice.

“Hey…” he says softly. He comes up around you to face you and gently takes hold of your hands. “What’s this attitude about?”

“Nothing,” you say, still staring at the ground.

“Okay,” he says. “Then do you want to talk about what you said at first?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When you said you were thinking about me.”

You whip your head up to face him so fast, you nearly headbutt his chin. “I didn’t say that!”

“Yeah, you did.” He’s smirking openly now. “I want to know what you meant by it.”

“It meant nothing!” you burst, annoyed by how he seems to be enjoying this whole situation. He’s always this stoic mask; you’re unaccustomed to this smug personality before you right now. Aran’s words echo, he’s teasing.

“Nothing?” he says, playful lilt to this voice. He’s inching closer by the second and you’re suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

“Kita…” you whisper. His hot breath and clean scent is fogging up your consciousness and you hear someone say, “I like you.”

You watch Kita’s smirk widen into a bright smile and you don’t mind the “I-win” light in his expression if he smiles like that all the time. To you and to only you.

He’s leaning in for a kiss and you have no control over your body as you help him close the gap between you two. It’s a brief kiss, respectful of your boundaries, very Kita-like. His slow, deep breaths bring you back down to earth.

“Wait!” you say, sudden thought striking you. “What about that Suna girl?”

He gives you a confused look. “What about her?”

“You’re always saying mean things to me and you told me to go home by myself after school today, even though you were all nice to her and saying you couldn’t let her walk home by herself!”

“Jealous?” he teases.

"No!” you can’t help but huff and turn your back to him, arms crossed over your chest childishly.

He huffs a quiet laugh and turns you by your shoulders to look at him again. His expression is sober now, eyes serious even if a shadow of a grin remains on his lips. “I’m sorry. I want to be kind to you, but it’s just so fun to tease you,” he admits. “I will stop if you don’t like it.”

Struck by his earnestness, you’re embarrassed by how childish you’ve been acting. “I never said I didn’t…” you trail off.

The grin is back when he says, “say you didn’t what?”

You glare at him, face on fire. “I hate you.”

“I like you, too,” he smiles, bringing his face back to yours and apologizing with gentle kisses.

#noos writes #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq x y/n #hq fluff #kita shinsuke #kita fluff #kita scenarios #kita shinsuke fluff #shinsuke kita #shinsuke kita x reader

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the-hinky-panda · 21 days ago

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Forged Series - Part I

Title: Forged

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Bill Bevilaqua x OFC!Reader

Summary: You're a forger working out of an auction house that's owned by Kansas City mafia boss Bill Bevilaqua. You're practical, detail orientated, and love at first sight doesn't make any logical sense. That is until it happens to you.

Taglist

You’ve always been dedicated to your work. Spending hours bent over a desk, making sure the dye on the pen was historically accurate as you wrote the vineyard name on the aged label of the forged bottle of wine. You never stopped long enough to pursue a romantic relationship, or even do something so mundane as dating.

That is until you met Bill Bevilaqua.

You had been working as a forger in the dingy basement of the auction house when he first passed through on a tour of the establishment. You never paid attention to the bored, wealthy persons that passed quickly through the storage area where you worked. He had been impressive in the energy that he carried, enough that it made you take notice of him. No man or woman had ever caught your attention like that before and it left you deeply unsettled.

Love at first sight was fine as long as you don’t see him again. And that plan was going just fine until you were asked to go to the auctioneer’s office two weeks later. You hadn’t expected the call, you were dressed in a silk shirt with cherries on it, a pair of wide legged jeans, and red converse sneakers. It wasn’t exactly a “meet the head of the auction house” outfit. But when you walked into the office, your eyes immediately landed on Bill and once again he was all you could see. But he wasn’t alone. It was him, an insurance agent, and the head auctioneer. They were asking for your expertise on whether or not the painting before them was a true Vermeer.

It wasn’t.

You distinctly remember telling Arlo, the capo that was in charge of managing the forgeries at the auction house, that the yellow paint had to lack two isotopes: strontium-90 and cesium-137. Those two isotopes didn’t exist in the world until 1945. If they showed up in an authentication process on a piece, it was automatically flagged as a forgery. You had a lengthy conversation with the completely disinterested Arlo about the importance of making sure the yellow paint in this particular painting had the isotopes removed from them.

He didn’t listen to you.

“Be honest.”

It’s the first thing you’ve heard Bill say and once again, you feel like a fucking deer caught in the headlights. Why are thousands of books written about the wonderfulness of falling in love when it’s so terrifying? Who wants to experience these kinds of feelings, let alone read about them? And you hadn’t even processed the fact that you’re not even on Bill’s radar, except for right now. Shit. He’s still waiting for your answer.

“It’s not a Vermeer.” You bite your tongue to keep from saying anything else. About Arlo not listening to you about the paint, about using an art student who used Rembrant’s lighting in the forged Vermeer piece. Not to mention they tried to knock off Vermeer’s most famous piece, Girl with a Pearl Earring. Everything about the painting screamed the brashness and audacity of youth.

Bill shakes his head. “Fucking Arlo.”

You scoff before you can stop yourself and Bill’s slightly raised eyebrow tells you he heard it. Thankfully the head of the auction house dismisses you from the meeting and you don’t hesitate to remove yourself from the office before you further embarrass yourself. It’s almost an hour later when the auctioneer finds you at your workstation, focused on painting the vineyard and wine’s name on the piece of cork that had been lifted from an Alabama nautical museum.

“You’re doing the Vermeer.”

“I’m not doing Girl with a Pearl Earring though.”

“God, no.”

You put your paintbrush down and remove your magnifying glasses. “So which one am I doing?”

“Mr. Bevilaqua said it’s up to your discretion.”

You don’t need time to ponder over what masterpiece you’re going to forge for him. The Geographer. Art critics still don’t know who the man in the painting is supposed to be, but as you dedicate yourself for the next two months to make the forged painting, as you add in the details of the scrolls on the floor, the details of the rug, the distant look in the subjects eyes as he stares out of the window, you realize it’s not anyone in particular. It’s the spirit of discovery, the desire to explore and gain knowledge, possessions, land and property. It’s the perfect painting for a mafia boss who owns pretty much the entire center of the United States. At least you hope it is. Once it’s completed, gets the approval of the auctioneer, it’s sent over to Bill’s home. Two weeks later, you receive an invitation for the unveiling party of the painting.

You wouldn’t miss it for the world.

#bill bevilaqua x reader #bill bevilaqua x you #bill bevilaqua x ofc #bill bevilaqua fic #bill bevilaqua

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kachowden · 2 years ago

Note

I am already in love with the pink lemonade cowboy 🥰😍

Vampire!Cowboy! Yandere x GN! Reader

——————-(<3)—————

A/n: I do not condone yandere behavior, this is purely fictional. This will be a short series. If you want to see what our yandere looks like you can see him here <3 also this technically isn’t a slow burn but the juicy stuff will show up in part 2

Part 1

——————————————————-

The rain thudded dully against the roof of your old rusty car. Your windshield wipers squeaked across your windows, flinging off thin sheets of water that blurred the dark road in front of you. Puddles reflected in your single headlight.

You’re grandfather was a cruel man.

As sweet as honey, you loved your grandfather dearly. He was always especially generous on the holidays.

But he was cruel. Because while he was on his “retirement vacation”, he left his massive farm in your care.

You! The grandchild who hadn’t done a lick of farm work in their entire life! Hell the closest thing to a farm you’d ever been to was a petting zoo when you were- what 6??

How were you expected to do anything remotely useful! In fact you were 90% sure that these crops and animals would be dead and gone within a week under your care.

But ohoho! Lucky you! You grandfather has a helper on the farm! A complete Fucking stranger who you’d never met before was going to be sharing a house with you for the next 6 weeks! Thank you grandpa! Love you SOO much!

You did love him. But you were irritated and you felt like you had a right to be so! He dropped this bombshell on you, not even asking if you had any plans!

Which you didn’t but that wasn’t the point!

Plans could’ve popped up at any moment!

With a very stressed sigh you pulled your beaten up car into the drive way of the rustic red farm house. Your engine wheezed with exhaust as your wheels rolled to a bumpy stop on the wet pavement. It took about 5 hours to drive to where your grandpa lived. Which meant you couldn’t just stay at your house and visit everyday to water the animals and feed the crops or whatever.

You physically had to stay here.

I mean it was a paid vacation but come on! You’d rather be working at the café than on a farm! At least you knew what you were doing there!

You let your head fall softly against the steering wheel, sighing again at your circumstances.

“Whatever. No use in complaining now.”

“Probably not kid.”

“Holy Sh-!”

The violent sound of your car horn scattered birds and animals for miles. Though there were few to begin with in this dreary weather. The stranger who had peered through your open window winced, covering his ears with a snarl.

“Oh shit- i am so sorry you just- actually- no what the fuck you scared the shit out of me!”

Typically you weren’t one to point fingers but you were in a particularly bad mood today so you felt that it was justified. Plus he did scare you!

The strangers lips twisted into a grimace, and you felt your body sending various warning signals when his turquoise irises narrowed down on your figure. Jeez this dude had a judgmental stare. You prayed this guy wasn’t your grandfathers “help”.

The mystery man clicked his tongue. “You the old mans grandkid?”

Fuck

You glared deeply at the totally not gorgeous cowboy, “..and I suppose you’re his “helper”?”

The stranger didn’t seem to take very kindly to your attitude, what with the way he leaned his head a little further into your car window to stare you down.

You had half the nerve to try and close it on him but the dumb thing was a window crank and you wouldn’t have gotten it up in time anyway.

“The names Micah. Your pops calls me Mickey. It’s either Micah or Mic to you, kid.”

Asshole!

“I’m pretty sure we’re the same age Mickey.”

He didn’t respond to that, merely pulling himself out of the car with a deep exhale.

He backed up slightly from the vehicle, you assumed to wait for you to get out, but when he lifted his boot up you got a little more worried

“Hey what’re you-“

With a sharp kick, Mickey smashed his boot into the lower side of your car door causing it to shoot open like a spring lock. Aka causing you to flop out onto your ass with a loud cuss.

Crying out you scowled deeply at the cowboy who didn’t even bother to send you a snarky look in return.

You could feel the water drizzling through your hair and clothes.

Looking painfully disinterested, the redhead(?) began walking away from your slowly soaking form. Leaving you to bring in your luggage. In the rain.

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be friendly or something..” you growled somewhat pitifully into the empty cold rain.

Glancing down at your wet knees you sighed, beginning to pick yourself off the ground, in hopes to spare a little of your own dignity.

Though it was for not when you felt your non grippy shoes slide against a stray patch of mud.

You didn’t have time to do much more than gasp when you felt yourself fall forward, only to land into a surprisingly secure and- kinda cold, set of arms.

Your breathed deeply for a moment, pulling back to stare at Mickey, who’s own eyes peered down at you from the brim of his now spotted hat.

You didn’t want to acknowledge the size of his forearms, or how you could feel practically everything under that flimsy wife beater he wore despite the weather.

You swore you heard him mumble something along the lines of “city folk”, but you became too distracted when noticing the purple spotted umbrella that now shade the two of you from the rain.

“Oh..”

You think you finally saw a small smile on the cowboys lips.

“Still thinkin I ain’t nice?”

You flushed, mostly in embarrassment at the fact that he heard you.

“Ah dip, you heard that?”

His laugh was fucking hot dude.

“You’d be surprised on how much I can hear, Kid.”

“Creepy but okay.”

Mickey laughed again though a bit shorter this time before propping you back up. You swore you heard a deep inhale, but you weren’t sure due to the sound of rain pelting the umbrella and car.

“Why don’t you head inside. I’ll grab your luggage.”

“Oh no, I can take care of it-“

The man glared at you, though you felt it was considerably less hostile than it had been originally.

“Just get in or else the foods gon’ get cold.”

Food?

“Say less!”

You had half a mind to be embarrassed when Mickey laughed at the sight of you practically skipping up to the porch and through the rustic door.

—————————————-

There was a loud and aggressive knocking at your door.

You decided being cruel was a country thing.

Because while Mickey had been sweet enough to make you dinner last night and breakfast this morning, he also rudely woke you up at the ass crack of dawn and kicked you out into the field to help with the chores.

Now mind you, typically you were a morning person! A go-getter of sorts! But the sun wasn’t even awake yet! So why were you out here picking peas, tomatoes, squash, peppers and so on, when you could be sleeping peacefully, cozied up in the slightly itchy and heavy wool sheets of your guest bed! Something about “the morning dew” apparently.

You weren’t even sure how Mic got in your room after you didn’t respond, seeing as you were once again, 90% sure you locked the door. Then again, the food he made practically sent you into a coma once you were done.

You weren’t sure if it was coincidence or not, but Micah had made all your favorite foods that evening. You wanted to assume your pa had told him, but you didn’t believe for a second that, that rude cowboy would go out of his way to make your favorite foods for you.

Especially considering he didn’t eat any of it.

All he had was this weird cup of, what you could only assume was wine or cranberry juice and a few pieces of a steak he popped in the oven.

This guy was weird.

“Hey kid! You done pickin or are your city hands to sensitive to finish the job?”

Speak of the bastard and he will come! Unfuckenfortunately

Your scowl was probably noticeable from a mile away, and especially from where the tall country man stood, given his smug grin as he walked over to examine your work.

He whistled mockingly, freaky blue-green eyes scanning your baskets.

“Not bad, for city folk anyway. But here.-“ crouching down in front of you the, ginger(?) reached his rough hands out and softly pulled the baskets from your arms.

“You wanna keep your herbs separated from each other. Some of them are harder to tell from others and you don’t wanna go mixin them up.”

You watched quietly, mostly in your own mental brooding, as he carefully separated the different herbs and spices from each other. His hands were large, but you noticed how precise he seemed to be. He had to have been working here quite sometime, cuz you couldn’t tell much of a difference between half of the things he was organizing.

“There we go.” His voice was soft this morning. Blending in with the sound of the faint winds, and the after rain dripping from the gutters and into the soil. It was still too early for the birds to be chirping. The sun still had yet to rise but the stars gave just enough light to see the gentle gaze the farm boy had set on you.

This moment of silence was odd for you. Especially given the two of you bickering since your arrival yesterday. This guy before you made no sense. Like a switch, he was harsh and snappy, and then gentle and calm. Caring almost. At times he almost acted like he’d known you for years. Though that seemed to mostly happen when he was doing something around the farm.

Caught up in your own thoughts, you missed the way Mickeys eyes were burning into you. They moved languidly over your figure, taking in your attire, dressed more warmly for the morning chill. Nearly every part of you was covered.

Except your neck. You had forgotten to pack a scarf apparently.

The pale man’s jaw clenched tightly, his shoulders tensing before he scowled and stood up, interrupting the once peaceful atmosphere.

“Get up. We still have work to do.”

His tone was cold and biting like the morning. Your breath came out in foggy puffs. But his didn’t. At least you couldn’t see it from where you were.

You watched with furrowed brows knit confusion as the cowboys boots carried him into the farmhouse, right as the first rays of the sun stretched over the country side and bled into the fields.

What was his deal?

For the rest of the day, Mickey seemed to be adamant about being as big of a thorn in your side as possible. Barking at you to hurry up. Scowling at you when you slipped or did something even slightly wrong.

Perfectionist asshole.

He also seemed to be avoiding looking at you.

At least directly. Every time you turned to yell at him, or glare, his back was always turned or his head was to the side, seeming adamant on not meeting your eyes.

Moody much?

The only time he did look at you was when he thought you weren’t looking. ‘Specially when you were moving heavy objects and you had to take off your jacket so you wouldn’t drown in your own sweat.

To some extent you prided your self on your work. You weren’t lazy by any means, and actually considered yourself a fairly hard worker, if the muscles of your forearms were any indication. You weren’t ripped. But it was something right?

You assumed that Mic agreed, though granted he could’ve just been comparing yours to his own massive forearms. But with the way his eyes were trailing all over you and zoning in on your barren arms and shoulders, You were almost flattered!

Almost. If the same guy who was checking you out wasn’t also being bloody ruthless with the chores. You got a few scrapes and bruises by that time noon, and you practically fell into the rickety kitchen dining chairs.

“Holy fucking shit I’ve never moved that much in my entire life..” a pain groaned poured from your lips as your aching muscles strained with your body heaving itself upwards.

Mickey let out a soft scoff at the sound, though still considerably gentler than he had been all morning, as he placed a very aesthetic sand-which In front of you.

Your stomach growled particularly loud at the sight, and with new found energy you picked up the scrumptious food with a grateful thanks and began eating.

Mickey, once again, without a lunch of his own opted to watch you openly instead. His belt buckle jeans pressed into the kitchen counter top, muscular arms propping himself up against it.

He watched quietly, and you would’ve been freaked out if you weren’t so damn tired.

“There’s still more to do. We haven’t gotten to the animals yet. And the roof on the barn needs leak repairs.”

You choked.

Hacking violently you smacked your chest before unlodging the piece of fresh bread from your throat.

Gulping water quickly you exhaled and turned to look at the cowboy in what you hoped was a glare, but was more accurately a very pathetic frown.

“I-!” You opened your mouth to argue before closing it softly with a tired sigh.

You’d complained enough today.

Mickey had been doing this kind of work for who knows how long, and he was going out of his way to accommodate your pace, though not by much, and was even making you food. It felt rude to comparing at this point.

You just hoped that if you died from exhaustion Mickey wouldn’t use your body as fertilizer.

So with a resigned groan you sat up after finishing your delicious sandwich. “..Yeah, okay.” You mumbled, getting ready to move to the trash can and toss out the crumbs and paper, but a large pale hand forced you back into your seat, without much pressure given how tired your body already was.

You gazed at Mickey curiously.

The tall cowboy looked down at you firmly, his expression odd as he scanned your bruises and sweaty face. Sighing completely inaudibly before reaching into his back pocket and placing a tube of some kind of muscle cream and a pack of wraps.

“Go upstairs and run yourself a warm bath. You stink and the water will help relax your muscles so they wont hurt as much tomorrow. You can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you need to do, but I expect you down here and out at the gate by 5 to bring in the cattle. Got it?”

You were stunned. The smile that worked its way on your face seemed to embarrass the farmer slightly as he turned away from you with folded arms and a grumpy frown.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m only letting you off because at this point you’ll slow me down more than anything. I don’t need a clumsy city kid messing up my work.”

You chose to ignore the bastards insults in favor of gently placing your arm on his lower bicep.

“Thanks Mic.”

You missed the deep inhale and weird glow of the cowboys eyes that followed you up the stairs and into your bedroom.

“…..”

It was good to see you hadn’t changed much.

#yandere #yandere cowboy #yandere vampire #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere oc #Micah/Mickey oc #part 1

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ijuliet · 1 year ago

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calc tutor hyuck

paring : lee donghyuck x gn!reader

warnings : college!au, mature, kissing, sexual innuendo, mark and jaehyun are mentioned TT

wc : 600~ words

isaac newton was your worst enemy, because who in their right mind would have the time of day to create calculus! sadly, with a D+ on both midterms, you forced yourself to sign up for the tutoring program your professor recommended with a tear in your eye. it killed your pride, but you didn't want to end the class with anything lower than a C.

luckily, you were paired up with the cutest dork ever, and you began to thank your brain for having a hard time with the course.

lee donghyuck had dark brown hair and sun-kissed skin. the first time you met him, his glasses were black, and he wore a neatly ironed crew neck. but as the days went by, hyuck would wear his clear glasses and loose graphic shirts (you loved these sessions because you could see the moles littered on his collarbones, which left you wondering how much more he was hiding).

and as you got closer, hyuck would bring you lunch and tell you the gossip between his best friends and their latest fuck. the way he exaggerated the stories always made you giggle.

i’m serious y/n! jaehyun hooked up with his sociology professor, he has a noona kink

the last girl i tutored stopped showing up because mark rejected her, too bad she ended with a D in calc… wait… you wont ditch me if i introduce you to mark, right?

oh and of course, hyuck was a great tutor.

not only did his inner-circle-drama and OOTDs encourage you to meet him at the library every thursday, but his promise to gift you with a surprise if you got above a 90 on your next test did too.

surprisingly, when test day rolled around, you landed a 91! hyuck was so proud of you and picked you up from the ground and into a hug in the middle of the fiction aisle. when he put you down, his smile never disappeared, and a light blush covered his face as he muttered apologies, i knew you could do it y/n.

for your gift, hyuck invited you to a movie night at his apartment. although it didn’t seem like much, it felt as if you were becoming a part of his life.

his home was comfortable and expected from the clever boy, and the way hyuck happily showed off his gaming setup made him live up to his nerdy persona.

tutoring you helps pay for my double monitors, he’d say as you playfully push his shoulder.

you both popped popcorn in the microwave and laughed together, confessing you might’ve written the formulas on your hand.

when suddenly the electricity shut down. the quickly turned dark setting took you both by surprise as you jumped towards each other's bodies for safety. hyuck quickly held your hand before clicking the flashlight button on his phone.

soon enough, you were both sat on hyuck's bed, knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, while his birthday cake candles are lit around the room. he apologized for a ruined celebration, but you insisted being with you hyuck is just enough.

despite the room being dimly lit, you could feel hyuck relax beside you, taking his hand off of his lap and behind your back. now inches away from you, you turned your head and began to shape the figure of his face and move towards him, locking eyes and staring at his lips.

hyuck pulled you into a kiss as his hand crawled up to the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper. his lips were soft and tasted like the perfect buttered popcorn you get at the movie theaters. your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck, slightly pulling and earning you a whimper.

you straddled his lap and could immediately feel his bulge beneath you. breaking off of the kiss with a smile on your faces, you reached out to touch his wet lips with your thumb before moving up and removing his glasses, whilst cracking a question:

"what if i get a 95 on my next test?"

sitting in my drafts for months, imy haechannnnnn

#haechan smut #hyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #haechan scenarios #haechan hard hours

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purerehua · 1 year ago

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kiss cam

- noun: kiss cam; plural noun: kiss cams

a live video feed in a sports arena showing images of selected couples in the audience in the expectation that they will kiss.

pairing ⇆ zb1 kim taerae x reader

genre ⇆ fluff ; romance ; unexpected feelings ; frnds 2 lvrs ; open ending

wc ⇆ 1.1k

cw ⇆ poor representation of baseball lol, also 90% writing and 10% dialogue. sorry y'all i'm working on it. let me know if i missed any warnings!

the cheers of the crowd rung loud in your ears as everyone yelled and jumped for the third time this afternoon. you were currently attending a baseball game with your bestfriend kim taerae and you could tell he was having the time of his life. you on the other hand? not so much.

it’s not that it was boring or anything, you had your own basic understanding of baseball but you couldn’t say you had an interest in it. taerae however insisted it would be great and you would have fun, plus you guys hadn’t spent time together in a while since you both had responsibility to your college studies.

so here you were, zoning out in the crowd while your loser of a friend whooped and yelled, smiling brightly at whatever impressive thing the player just did. he settled down again, calming down and watching the game with bright and focused eyes. but as much as it was entertaining to watch him go crazy over this, you needed a break as soon as possible.

taerae’s head turned to you as you tapped his shoulder before your mouth moved to speak.

“i’ll go to the bathroom real quick, okay?”

with a nod and thumbs up from taerae, you made your way past the people in your row and found the bathroom. you took your time, using the toilet and fixing yourself in the mirror a bit. you even pulled out some oil blotting sheets and your tinted lip balm because why not? and as you finished up and were satisfied with your appearance, you made your way back to your seat beside taerae. as you settled back beside him, you realized that there was nothing going on in the field at the moment, and your eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

taerae somehow sensing your confusion started to explain.

“they’re taking a break, don't worry it’ll start back up in a few minutes.”

you let out a hum of understanding at this, and instead your eyes drifted to the big screen in the meantime. it played a variety of advertisements before the TV showed a real time camera that was pointing towards the audience. the big text in bold spelling ‘KISS CAM’ dawned on you as the camera continued to single out two random people after another. you laughed a bit, since the first few reactions were people either refusing or flat out yelling ‘THEY’RE MY SIBLING’ to the camera.

the camera finally landed on a real couple and they shared a sweet kiss to which everyone cheered at. you instinctively glanced at taerae wondering what he’d do if the camera were to land on the both of you.

just then, as your eyes drifted back to the big screen, you could see the frame focus on taerae and the girl on the other side of him, immediately you looked over at taerae beside you who’s expression went from relaxed to bewildered in a snap. he brought his hands up to communicate his reluctance, but the girl beside him perked up in a casual manner and over the noise of the crowd you were sure you heard her say that she didn’t mind.

he was floundering, his body was faced away from you and his words failed him as he tried to figure what to do.

he looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes basically screaming for help. your own eyes widened as you shrugged your shoulders, silently saying you had no idea what to do. but taerae looked so desperate, and you felt so bad from the way his fist tightly held on the edge of his shirt, the way his other hand kept coming up to adjust his glasses nervously.

so you did the only thing you could think of and the millisecond before your lips touched, you realized how bad of an idea this was.

you had spun him around, pulling him in by his shirt before planting your lips on his. he surprisingly didn’t scream bloody murder in shock, instead steadying himself by holding onto your waist and relaxing into the kiss.

it was short and sweet, you almost expected him to kiss like this. It’s not like you’ve ever wondered what kind of kisser taerae was (you totally have) but somehow the kiss felt exactly like him, and that made it quite enjoyable even if it didn’t last that long.

once you both parted, your eyes found the TV screen immediately and obviously the camera had now panned over to show you and him in place of him and that girl. people were whooping and cheering you on, even the girl that was originally supposed to do the kiss cam with taerae.

your gaze came back to focus on your best friend, who looked at you with a soft smile and admiration in his eyes. you suddenly got shy and realized that you were still holding on to his shirt so you promptly let go, smoothing it down for him and clearing your throat.

he in turn moved his hands from your waist, opting to clasp them behind his back instead. he seemed to be waiting for you to say something, as a few seconds passed of him looking at you and you pointedly avoiding eye contact with him.

seemingly realizing you weren't going to say anything, he picked up his bucket of popcorn and offered it to you with a soft smile.

"y/n, do you want some popcorn?"

you could feel the box being pushed against your fingers lightly and you finally lift your head to face taerae for the first time since the kiss. and as soon as you did it, you internally panicked.

' woah why is he looking he looking at me like that? '

you gulped and suddenly the urge to kiss him again was so strong you could vomit. looking at him again you saw a whole new perspective and were suddenly very aware of the way his hair fell, the dimple on his cheek, and the smile lines around his mouth now suddenly drove you crazy.

you politely shook your head, wringing your hands behind your back and willing yourself to focus on the game you had absolutely no interest in.

later at home, you lay on your bed in the comfort of your room silently reflecting on the days events. you think about how awkward and quiet it was when taerae drove you home.

you think about how attractive he looked driving.

suddenly your phone vibrated in your hand, and you brought it to your eye level to see a new message from the very man you were just gushing over in your head...

a/n: this work has been locked up for like two weeks and i finally decided to finish it up and post it. anyway, thanks for the love on my bf!hao texts. i might make a part two for this taerae and y/n, should i? lmk.

#zb1 #zerobaseone #kim taerae #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone taerae #kim taerae x reader #taerae x reader #zb1 oneshots #zb1 fanfiction #zerobaseone fanfics #fluff #friends to lovers

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rosenotactuallyquartz · 3 months ago

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“i don’t understand why pearl was so jealous. she had thousands of years to make a move!”

pearl was known as the “terrifying renegade” in a rebellion against homeworld, where she had been expected to serve and was looked at as a replaceable “thing.” pearl has a memory of saving rose at the very last second in do it for her.

you’d think with all this evident strength, pearl would be bold about her feelings for rose, right?

she absolutely was. she told rose about her feelings in now we’re only falling apart, when she didn’t even have the words to describe that she was in love with her yet. so, those 90s flashbacks when pearl was upset? it’s not because she never made a move. it’s not because she “fumbled” someone. she is far too bold—as rose would say herself—to do anything like that. heck, she’s too strong of a character to continuously obsess over someone who doesn’t love her at all.

the flaw that makes so much more sense for pearl’s character is selflessness. she felt confused about this new connection rose had, but throughout those four years she never made it known that she was questioning rose’s love for her because she just wanted rose to be happy. it’s one of their biggest issues during the war: putting aside her needs and her wellbeing to protect the love of her life. which is not good, as flaws are. that’s why her character development later on is so important.

this didn’t outright cause, but contributed to a situation with very poor communication. gem relationships are different from human relationships. everyone else involved was seeking escapism & avoiding emotional conversations about the past. we have to look past the show being from steven’s perspective and all the 90s flashbacks being from his father’s perspective in order to really understand that. it’s exactly why lots of fans say, “i don’t see it in the show” when the creators state that rose was in love with pearl. the characters are complex, two of them are gems, and they’re watching it from a human’s perspective.

also, pearl + rose’s entire dynamic was about going against homeworld’s rules and beliefs. it was simply about love. pearl also had some of her own, personal trauma that was less related to rose and more related to homeworld’s society in which pearls were seen as things, replaceable. rose cared so much about loving pearl as an individual. pearl was likely afraid of hurting rose by telling her about her concerns because they included words like favourite and replacing. rose dealt with so much guilt from her past and self hatred that pearl knew about, and i think she just wanted to make sure that she was as happy as she could possibly be at that point. pearl was hesitant to approach rose because what if she blamed herself, hating herself even more because she believed she was bringing up old pain for pearl? it’s such a complicated and painful situation, and everyone communicated poorly for different reasons, but it’s often really misinterpreted in a way that makes rose look careless and pearl look weak. which is definitely not the case.

#pearlrose #steven universe #crystal gems #pink diamond #su rose quartz #su pearl #prose #pearl x rose #meta su #rosepearl #su

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theshippirate22 · 1 year ago

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I posted this and expected it to be a good ol’ two note post but it got a lot of love so I got brainworms. thanks to my personal cheerleader @your-stranger-halfblood-things you’re a dear my darling <33

Stacy really isn’t expecting anything.

To everyone else it’s just April 23rd. There might be a track meet tonight, but even then, it’s ridiculous to equate that to anyone actually thinking of today as a holiday.

Stacy is really, really hoping it can just be April 23rd for her today too.

For a minute, she just lays there on her stomach, face buried in the pillow, and imagines that it’s not normal, that it’ll be just like the days Lottie and Christina turned 17, with laughter and presents and phone calls from home….

It won’t be like that, and she’s knows that, and she knows Olivia is going to do her damned hardest to make it the best day ever, which probably means she’s going to be particularly sweet all day and then they’re gonna have crazy awesome sex tonight and that’ll be that, and it’ll be April 24th and Stacy will be 17.

“Stacyyyyyy…” Olivia sings as she comes in, practically pouncing on her and tickling her sides.

“Ah, God, Liv! It’s seven am!” She squirms away, laughing despite her best efforts. “Cut it out.”

“I’m like 90% sure you have to get tickled on your birthday or you don’t grow right.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your source on that one?”

Olivia climbs over her, settling in between her legs so she can pop her elbows up on either side of Stacy’s head and box her in. “Mm, probably that one medical journal we had to read in Luther’s class.”

“Oh? Conveniently the one I couldn’t read?”

“Mhm,” She nodded adamantly. “See, if you had powered through the frankly macabre and horrific descriptions of blood and boils, you too could know the dangers of birthday tickle deficiency.” She punctuates it with a swift kiss.

“Gross, stop it,” Stacy laughs, weakly pushing her away but not stopping her from nuzzling into her neck and biting softly along her throat.

“Now listen, Stace,” She says, moving up to kiss all of her face. “We’ve got a very strict schedule to keep to today. You’ve got ten minutes before Lottie is coming in here to do your makeup. I told her to keep her hands off your hair, but you know how she is, so I’m afraid that’s a battle you’ve got to fight for yourself.”

“Why’s she doing my makeup? Is something happening?”

“Um duh.” Olivia pulls back to stare at her like she’s stupid. “You’ve got to look fabulous. Because, if I’m not mistaken, you’re turning seventeen at exactly 8:37 this morning and that’s reason for celebration indeed.”

“Why are you talking like that?” Stacy laughs again. “You sound like a founding father. Wait!” She pushes Olivia’s face from hers to ensure she can look her in the eye. “You didn’t tell Lottie it was my birthday right? You didn’t go around telling everyone?”

“No!” Olivia cries, seemingly outraged. “No, I would never!”

“Why are you smiling like that? What did you do? Liv!”

“I didn’t tell Lottie or Christina.”

“Liv!”

“But I may or may not have told Greg, who may or may not have told Lottie and Christina.”

“Oh my God, Olivia Nicole Moore, whyyyyyyy?”

“Because, Stacy Linda Harrington. I love you.” Another kiss, right on the lips. “And I am very stubborn and determined to show you that your family is full of asshats and you should forget about them and remember that you’ve got a family here. Who also loves you.”

Stacy wanted to argue more, but not really, because she was feeling particularly warm and happy in a way that she hadn’t felt for a long time, so she took the chance to kiss Olivia deeper.

Lottie came tumbling in not long after, and Stacy played beauty shop customer with her while Olivia watched smirking from where she sat on the bed. Stacy curled her hair and put on her uniform and Christina came to see what was taking them all so long before dragging them to breakfast.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the lady of the hour!”

“Hi, Greg,” Stacy grins, rolling her eyes.

“Happy Birthday, little missy,” He put his hands behind his back and stood on his toes, leaning toward her. “I know I’m supposed to remain impartial because I’m a TA and shit, but you do know you’re my favorite, right?”

“Impartial, my ass,” Olivia snorts. “Like you even try.”

He shushes her playfully then adds, “I have something for you, Stace.”

“Oh? What is it?”

He leads her back into the kitchens- just her; her friends wait patiently in the hall- and delivers a heaping stack of hot pancakes into her hands.

“It’s not Pancake Day?” Stacy says, trying to ignore the bubbling excitement in her stomach.

“Nah, but I know they’re you’re favorite, so I paid The Beast to make you some anyway.”

“Greg…” She wasn’t going to cry over this. That was ridiculous. God, no one had made her pancakes since she lived in Indiana and that was almost five years ago. “Thank you.”

She flings herself into his arms, holding out the plate to the side to preserve the gift and he rolls his eyes but hugs back nonetheless.

“Go eat with everybody else, I’ve gotta go get the mail, see if you have some birthday cards.”

She scoffs but doesn’t let it bring her down.

So that’s how she ends up in the lunch hall with her friends and her stack of pancakes. At one point, Miss Beastion (aka The Beast) comes to wipe down tables and breaks her glare for a moment to wish her a happy birthday and almost smiles.

Greg brings the mail around to their hall, all thirty of them, and there’s a box and a letter for Stacy.

She picks up the off white envelope first. “Here’s the card from my parents,” she explains. “Let’s put out bets now, yeah?”

“Dear Beloved Daughter,” Christina starts and Lottie bursts into laughter.

“It is your birthday,” Olivia continues.

“Hope to do business with you in the future, Richard Harrington,” Stacy finishes sardonically, slipping her nail under the adhesive and tearing it open.

Their jokes aren’t far from the truth. The card is completely white-except for the back side, which has the Harrington company logo on it- and inside all it says is “Happy Birthday! Love Mom and Dad” with three hundred dollars wedged in.

“Thanks, Donna,” Stacy murmurs.

“Wait, I thought Melanie was your dad’s secretary?” Lottie cuts in.

“Melanie is the one he’s fucking,” Stacy explains and Olivia laughs because she can’t help herself, adding “For now.”

“Donna is too old for him, thank God. She’s his real secretary, the one that used to babysit u- me. She’s been sending cards instead of them since I was like. Ten.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Olivia says suddenly. “Fuck them all! They’re such assholes, all of them!”

“Preach!” Christina whoops. “Fuck them!”

Greg looks up from the staff table, probably because one of the teachers told him to contain his hall, and he comes over for a minute, quickly realizing what’s going on. With a mouth full of blueberry muffin, he agrees, “Oh yeah, fuck the Harringtons.”

“Yeah, fuck ‘em,” Stacy repeats, with less conviction. “Come on, let’s see what this thing is.”

She pulls the box toward her. There’s no name on it besides her own, no return address, no nothing. Lottie takes out her hoop earring and hands it to her so she can use the point to slice open the tape, at which point she hands the earring back and rips the box entirely open.

She isn’t entirely sure what she’s expecting. Whatever it is, though, it’s not what she’s actively looking at.

“What is it?” Greg says through another bite of muffin, peering over her.

Inside the box, is a three inch stack of Bop magazines, undoubtedly issues from at least a couple years with the latest on top, some Wonder Woman comic books, an entire rainbow of nail polish, a new hairbrush, some of the soap you could only get from a shop on Main Street in Hawkins, six or seven 3 Musketeers bars (which happened to be her favorite since she was what? five?), an Agatha Christie book, and three cans of Farrah Fawcett hairspray.

“Is it from your parents?” Christina mumbles, lifting the box to check the bottom and sides for a name. She must find nothing, because she sets it back down dejectedly.

“I don��t… I don’t think so? They wouldn’t send stuff like this to me anyway… it’s too… fun.”

The girls dig into the magazines while they finish eating, and Lottie and Christina get in an argument over whether Matthew Broderick or Tom Cruise is objectively hotter and Greg decides for them, siding with both Lottie and Broderick, much to Christina’s dismay. Then bells are ringing and classes are starting, and the group gets separated.

It’s during third period that it happens. One moment she’s taking notes on symbolism in Macbeth, and the next Greg is leaning on the doorway with a satisfied- albeit surprised- smirk.

“Stacy’s call,” he offers in explanation.

It’s a thing at the school, the calls. A lot of kids are from out of state, some are out of country, so the rule is that every kid can get a call from their parents on their birthday during class. Otherwise, they’ve just got to wait until one of the school’s payphones is open to reach home.

The thing that has her staring at him in shock is the fact that her parents haven’t called in literal years. She gets her compulsory card from Donna and a fistful of cash to buy her satisfaction, and that’s the end of the birthday things.

Last year, she lied when Christina asked. Said she got it during chemistry, the only class she didn’t have any friends in. No one to verify or validate. Greg had covered for her when he overheard the lie.

The year before that, Donna had called instead, saying her Father wanted to call but he was in Taiwan and didn’t have any phone reception. Which was also a lie. But she appreciated it anyway. She cried in the shower that night and Olivia had found her She didn’t ask, for which Stacy was grateful, and they were good friends after that. Until they were girlfriends.

So Stacy is more confused than anything else while she follows Greg back to the office phone. She hadn’t really done anything particularly noteworthy in the last little bit; no reason for her parents to remember she was living and breathing, nothing deserving the call. Maybe they want to yell at her and this is the only chance they know for sure they’ll be able to talk to her.

Greg hands her the receiver and she holds it in her hand for a minute, taking a minute to compose herself for the beat down that’s about to come before she lifts it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Oh! Hi.”

“Dad?” she mutters in surprise.

“God, please don’t tell me I sound that much like him.”

“You don’t,” she assures suddenly, because it’s true that he really doesn’t sound like her father but she isn’t sure who else he could be.

“Um… It’s Steve…”

Oh.

“What? Oh my God, why is your voice so deep?”

He laughs softly. “I’m nineteen, Stace.”

And isn’t that just wild. That snotty whiny kid that threw a fit when she was going to start middle school and refused to be seen in the same district as her is a grown man.

All she says is, “Oh wow.”

“Well, I’m calling to say happy birthday. Sorry they took you out of class… I… I didn’t have your schedule so I was trying to guess? Apparently I didn’t do as well as I thought.”

“Uh, that’s okay,” she murmurs. “It’s kind of a thing around here to be pulled out of class for this anyway.”

“Yeah, it’s your one call for the year, huh?” Suddenly he sounded very small. “I, uh, I tried to call dad. To remind him. But, uh, he changed personal lines and didn’t tell me the new number, and every time I called the company, they just kept rewiring me to Donna, so she gave me the number so I could just call myself. So, um, sorry. It’s just me.”

For just a second, Stacy has that fleeting warmth of being loved, but it’s paired with this agonizing, overwhelming desire. She doesn’t know what for; maybe for him to be like this all the time, maybe for things to be different with their parents, with everything else.

“That’s okay,” she says quickly, trying to sound indifferent. “Thanks for trying anyway.”

“Yeah.” There’s a lapse and he forces out quickly, “Did you get my present? I was trying to time it right so it would get there this morning-“

“That’s from you?”

“Uh, yeah. I hope it’s okay. I didn’t… didn’t really know what to get you, but, uh, the girls I babysit said it was a pretty standard teenage girl gift and they’re like the smartest people I know. But if you don’t like it you can sell the stuff or just give it away and I can send you something else! Just tell me and I’ll get it! I just… when I opened my cash Christmas present I kinda snapped and lost my shit and I figured you’d want something other than cash but I don’t-“

Stacy has about twenty five questions regarding this, starting with “You’re a babysitter?!” but instead she smiles softly at his awkwardness-also so weird for him- and murmurs, “It’s great, Steve. Me and my friends will have a blast.”

“Oh I’m glad. Max said stuff like that is the staple to any good sleepover and boarding school is like an infinite sleepover, right? So I thought I better up the quantity? I don’t know, it made sense to me…”

“Yeah, no, that makes perfect sense,” She agrees quickly. “That’s really… heartfelt.”

“Hopefully it’s better than The Card.”

“God, yeah, they aren’t even trying,” she relays the message from said card, and he snorts.

“You know it’s from Donna, then. Dad’s has never called himself anything other than Richard.”

They laugh about it darkly, and for an instant the solidarity between them is so strong it’s like they were borne from the same soul. Like they aren’t strangers who share a name.

“Hey, listen, Stace,” He adds slowly. “I know you usually go back to the Carolina house or something for summer break- you went to Cabo last year, right? But if… if you want, of course, you don’t have to, but you could come stay with me in Indiana. My friends would love you, you know? I think you’d have fun. It’s not Cabo, but… you know…”

The invitation is weird. Not entirely unwelcome, but bizarre, given that the last time they spoke to each other, they actually weren’t talking to each other.

“Are you dying, Steve?” And she’s only half joking.

He laughs once, awkwardly again. “No. I am very much alive. But, uh, a lot has changed. With everything. Hawkins. Me. You, probably. And it’s stupid that I’ve just been pretending you don’t exist. We don’t… we don’t have to be pitted against each other all the time, you know? We’ve got a common enemy here. And I’m… I’m so sorry about how I was. I’m not like that anymore. At least I’m really trying.”

She swallows back the soft hope building in her throat. “God, they’re such assholes, aren’t they?”

And that’s all it takes. The understanding is so profound it doesn’t need anymore explanation. Especially when Steve adds exhaustedly, “Yes. Yes, they are.”

The treaty is solidified. The olive branch taken.

He asks her a few more questions about her birthday, the standard things, and she tells him about her pancakes and the cupcake she’ll get at lunch and that Greg will probably make the whole cafeteria sing to her, and she pointedly leaves out the plans Olivia has for her tonight and the blunts she bought a few weeks ago for a special occasion. She writes down his number and she seriously considers snagging a payphone and calling him a few times before school gets out.

By the time she hangs up, she walks to fourth period, that she is significantly late for, and when she slides into her seat next to Olivia, she’s got a peculiar little smile that won’t seem to go away.

“Was that your call?” She whispers, even more shocked than Greg.

“Mhm,” She nods dazedly.

“It was your parents? Did they yell at you?”

“It was my brother,” Stacy says softly.

She didn’t think it was possible for Olivia to look more surprised but somehow she manages, eyebrows shooting up and eyes growing wide.

She doesn’t say anything else, instead turning her attention to Mr. Hansen’s lesson, until Olivia elbows her and mutters, “What are you thinking about?”

Stacy grins. “Do you wanna come to Indiana with me this summer?”

#stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #(well at least that’s what I’m picturing she just doesn’t know yet)#GIVE STEVE A SISTER PLEASE #fic #ficlet #steddie fic #(eventually)

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oatmilk-vampire · 3 months ago

Text

Cannon-compliant, near future early 90s, enemies to friends back to enemies then to lovers angst and smut 11k word steddie fic.

Preview:

“Shouldn’t you usually ask for my license and registration?” Eddie delays, wondering if he’d be able to lure him away from the drugs.

“I already know who you are and that this van belongs to you. Please step out of the vehicle.” He repeats.

Eddie swallows. Unbelievable. He’s been selling for four years now and Steve’s the one to catch him? He wasn’t even in the act! He just re-upped his supply from Reefer Rick, which is even worse because now he has enough drugs for a small army.

Fuck it. He’s going to jail anyway.

His fight or flight kicks in and he’s running the moment his feet hit the dirt, leaving Steve behind to deal with his van full of paraphernalia.

He hasn’t had to run since that time in the Upside Down. He’s never been athletically fit, but he was always used to running from a threat.

Steve, on the other hand, has always been a star athlete.

Unfortunately for Eddie, Steve doesn’t stay with the van, instead he chases after him and, man, is he fast.

Or it's the early 90s and Steve is now a cop, and Eddie is still a drug dealer.

Based on the six stages of grief, all in (nearly) one night.

Or read it down below 👇

1.) Denial

Steve Harrington had gone through some shit in his teenage years. Hell, most of Hawkins went through some shit. High school politics weren’t anything compared to monsters and evil Russians and stopping numerous apocalypses all before you ever reached the legal drinking age.

Trying to figure out what he wanted do with his life shouldn’t have been that hard, but there he was getting the third degree from Daddy Dearest. Steve’s a failure, a letdown, a disgrace, a stain on the Harrington name. He’s heard it all before, but not with such animosity attached. His mother kept quiet, slowly shaking her head to show her disapproval. It should have hurt Steve; their reactions to his decision not to pursue college or take on the family business. But it didn’t.

In fact, it just made it all that much more easier.

Steve was always told he’d go to some Ivy League university in preparation of inheriting the Harrington family business, that is if he didn’t fuck it up before then. His dad’s words, not his.

But unlike Daddy Dearest, he’d seen some shit. He’d saved lives. He’d taken care of children more than he’d ever been taken care of himself. Even though Steve and Eddie were the oldest amongst their peers, they were still kids. Steve realizes that now. Nineteen and twenty are way too young to have to save a bunch of tweens and teens and the rest of town. There’s only one adult male he truly knows stepped in to help. Who did the work and risked his life.

So the decision was easy. He would follow in a different father-figure’s footsteps.

Instead of college and finance, he signs up for the Hawkins training academy.

He’d never been awesome at school, his grades just high enough to not get his ass whooped by his parents. But when he enrolled in the Hawkins training academy to become a officer, well, he excelled.

He had to wait until he was twenty-one, as were the minimum age requirements, so he worked Family Video with Robin for the remaining two years staying vigilant for any possible otherworldly threat, but alas none came and he was getting trained to protect and serve.

When he finally graduates twenty-four weeks later, he knows his place. He’s just a rookie. A baby officer. It feels nice to not have to be a leader anymore.

Another twenty-four weeks later, he graduates to his short sleeved uniform shirts and is finally allowed to ride alone.

He didn’t expect to fit in right away, but he also didn’t expect his fellow officers to bust his balls and haze him. He thought he escaped that life by avoiding college and the fraternities he once dreamed of.

Tomorrow will be the first day he rides alone. Today’s the last chance they have to truly get to him, and laugh the most at him.

“Where are my cuffs?” He throws the toy pair on the desk before him, placing his hands on his hips just after. It doesn’t have the same effect on men decades his senior as it does on the brats he once lovingly babysat.

“Maybe you should keep a better eye on your gear, rookie.” One officer laughs at him.

The other seems to take pity on him, if for only a moment.

“Oh, Harrington, there was a call. If you’re willing to clock back in you should take it.” He says, a genuine look in his eye.

“Yeah? What’s the address? I’ll head over now. What’s the call?” He momentarily forgets his woes, just happy they’re finally accepting him. Offering him his first real job.

Until the second officer throws the replacement cuffs at him, and with Steve’s reflexes he catches them. “You know that night club down by 69th? Yeah, I hear they’re looking for a new stripper.”

Steve feels himself visibly deflate, which only eggs the man on.

“All you’ll ever be is some rich kid pretty boy. You’ll get more use out of those than the real deal.”

A chorus of raucous laughter follows him out.

Steve groans and grumbles once he gets to his cruiser. He wouldn’t let them know how much they’re getting to him. He’s got to rise above and make Hopper proud. Who knows, with hard work he hopes that one day maybe he’ll even be the chief when Hop does decide to retire. Although, he has a feeling it’ll be a long time coming before that happens.

After Eddie recovered from nearly having his flesh ripped from his bones, he was proven innocent. He finally got his diploma and, as expected, didn’t go to college. He also never got around to making it big and leaving the shitty little town he calls home.

Instead he sticks around to continue his own father’s “business”.

Aka, still breaking the law and flying under the radar.

It’s not his fault he never got another chance at an audition in Cali. Record labels just weren’t willing to give him or Hawkins a chance after the shitstorm that hit in ‘86 and the years following.

So when he’s driving alone down a dark side road and he sees red and blue flashing lights, he knows he’s fucked. He’s gonna have to run, and he’ll have a warrant for his arrest because there’s no way he could hide the supply fast enough.

Then he sees Steve. His bad, Officer Harrington.

The moment Steve knocks on his window, Eddie rolls it down and immediately starts his bullshit, flirting and big friendly grins, hoping to distract him from asking if he can search the van. But to his misfortune, Steve rolls his eyes and asks Eddie to step out of the vehicle.

“Shouldn’t you usually ask for my license and registration?” Eddie delays, wondering if he’d be able to lure him away from the drugs.

“I already know who you are and that this van belongs to you. Please step out of the vehicle.” He repeats.

Eddie swallows. Unbelievable. He’s been selling for five years now and Steve’s the one to catch him? He wasn’t even in the act! He just re-upped his supply from Reefer Rick, which is even worse because now he has enough drugs for a small army.

Fuck it. He’s going to jail anyway.

His fight or flight kicks in and he’s running the moment his feet hit the dirt, leaving Steve behind to deal with his van full of paraphernalia.

He hasn’t had to run since that last time in the Upside Down. He’s never been athletically fit, but he was always used to running from a threat.

Steve, on the other hand, has always been a star athlete.

Unfortunately for Eddie, Steve doesn’t stay with the van, instead he chases after him and, man, is he fast.

Steve catches him almost right away, slamming them both to the ground in a pile of aching joints and soon to be bruised limbs.

Steve gives him enough slack to turn around just so they’re nose to nose while the officer straddles the drug dealer’s lap.

“Well, I see the donuts haven’t hindered you any.” Eddie grins because that’s all he can do to stop himself from crying at how unfair his life is.

Then he’s being pulled roughly to his feet. He waits to feel the telltale coolness of cuffs clamping around his wrists, but he doesn’t. At least, not the cold part.

His heart still hammers in his chest, but then he looks down and sees what Steve put on him.

Furry red cuffs. Meant for the bedroom, not the streets.

“Not a word.” Steve warns as Eddie’s eyes widen.

But Eddie laughs even as he trips over his own feet, mind already working over time with what he’s going to say.

“If you wanted me in cuffs so bad, you could have just asked, big boy. You didn’t have to become a cop to do it.”

“Shut up.”

Eddie stops laughing when he remembers the predicament that led to him being placed in the sex cuffs in the first place. He swallows as they near his still running van.

“You gonna stay right there or do I need to put you in my car?”

“I’ll stay.”

Steve takes his time with the search, careful hands uncovering each of the hiding spots.

At least he didn’t rip it apart like he could have.

“Find everything you’re looking for, officer?” Eddie surmises based on the grim expression of his ex-classmate and former crush.

“I was hoping I wouldn’t find anything.” Steve admits with a sigh, and if his hands weren’t currently full of every drug known to man Eddie imagines he’d probably pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Then you shouldn’t have checked. You didn’t have a warrant or consent.”

Steve fixes him with a look that tells Eddie he’s stupider than either of them thought. “But I had probable cause the moment you ran.”

Eddie groans. Of course. He always has to run. He always has to ruin everything for himself. He really is a fuckup.

“You realize I have to take you in now, right?”

“Or you could not?” Eddie tries, hearing how pathetic he sounds.

“Eddie.”

“Steve.” He begs, blinks back the way his eyes feel.

Steve sighs, putting the drugs down to scrub a hand down his face.

What is Steve supposed to do? This could be his big chance. His first solo arrest and a big one at that. He’s not even technically working right now! The hazing would have to stop now. He’d finally have respect. Especially because the entire station hates the Munson name and has a betting pool going for who will finally be the one to bring in Eddie for good.

Not that Steve cared about the betting pool, mind you. Although it couldn’t hurt to cushion his pockets more. Especially after his family officially cut him off after his big decision.

“Okay, look. I won’t bring you in right now.” He emphasizes, doesn’t want to give Eddie the impression that he’s letting him go. “But I will be in the morning.”

Eddie’s face falls, then brightens back up. “So, you’re letting me go for now. What’s that, say, ten hours?”

Steve can already see the gears turning in his head, so he’s quick to shake his head. “No. I said I wouldn’t bring you in yet, I didn’t say I was letting you go so you can evade arrest. You really want another charge?

Eddie deflates. “No. So what now? You just gonna keep me in your sex cuffs overnight? That’s really kinky, Steve. I thought you were more vanilla than that.”

Steve’s face burns but he holds his ground, unwilling to let Eddie overwhelm him like he always does when he gives him that look and smile.

“We’ll leave your van here on the side of the road, and you’ll ride home with me.”

“If you wanted a slumber party you could have just asked. Are you gonna braid my hair too?”

“Do you want me to bring you in tonight?”

“No. I’m just trying to lighten the mood, man. Jeez.” He looks over his van as he watches Steve carefully place the drugs back where he found them. “So what, you just leave this van full of evidence here unattended? What happens if someone robs me? Takes the drugs? What then, officer?” Eddie knows the chance of someone happening across his van and stealing from it is slim to none. He goes down this road because no one else does. No one other than Steve, apparently.

“As much as I don’t want these drugs on the streets—” He levels him with a look Wayne himself has given. “—If they’re not in your possession then I can’t necessarily arrest you for any drug charges, now can I?”

Is Steve serious?

It seems highly unprofessional, but he wouldn’t push his luck by pointing that out. Maybe Steve really does want to help him and this is the only way he knows how.

“Why don’t I just drive the van back to your house? You can keep my keys.” He offers.

“So you can sneak out while I sleep and hotwire it? I don’t think so.” He snorts at Eddie’s half-baked plan. Damn, he knows him too well.

“Fine. So we leave it. God forbid anyone take the drugs—at least I don’t let anyone OD on them.” He helpfully points out. “But if someone does, take them, what then?”

“Then we just had a sleepover. We’ve been over this.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at the cop. This is Steve. But is it the same Steve who helped save his life, who helped exonerate him? What a way to come full-circle.

“Okay,” Eddie finally gives in, what other option does he have? “I’m in.”

“Great. Hop in.”

To his surprise, he’s guided to Steve’s passenger seat rather than the back.

“You sure?” Eddie furrows his brows.

Steve raises his own. “Should I not be?”

Eddie stays silent. He would never hurt anyone, especially Steve, unprompted. But Eddie’s also skeptical.

“Are you gonna take these cuffs off?” He finally asks.

“Nope.” Steve smiles at him for the first time in years.

It makes Eddie’s chest ache.

2.) Anger

Steve is obviously being hazed by the other officers

They took his actual cuffs and left him with these because they didn’t expect him to make any actual arrests. It’s not his fault he’s “too pretty” to be a real officer and eventual chief, and that they think he’ll only ever be seen as a stripper cop. Oh but Steve will show them alright. Starting tomorrow when he brings in Hawkins most prevalent drug dealer.

Who also happens to be Steve’s once unrequited crush.

Steve was hoping to give Eddie one last night of freedom, and more selfishly, give him one last night of spending time with Eddie.

He’d only seen Eddie in passing since they both recovered from their injuries, and even less often this past year. Only ever if his T.O. decided to harass Eddie when he really was just minding his own business at the grocery store or gas station.

But now Eddie was here with him, and he was pissed.

Steve thought they’d come to an agreement but Eddie must have changed his mind because now they were having a screaming match in the middle of Steve’s kitchen and this was not how Steve wanted the night to go.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie, what do you expect from me? I’m just trying to do my job!” Steve cries.

“I expect you to have my back, Steve! Like you did last time we were in a life or death situation, remember? Or did that Steve die in the Upside Down?” Eddie fires back.

He knows he’s being unnecessarily harsh. After all, Steve is technically the one in the right here given morals and you know, the law but Eddie is essentially a wild animal ensnared and desperate for escape. Excuse him for lashing out.

“Life or death? You want to talk life or death, Eddie? You’re the one who’s contributing to the start of an opioid epidemic! How would you feel if someone gets hooked so bad they OD or end up homeless?” Steve’s words pummel Eddie, agitating him more as he defends himself.

“I already told you I don’t let anyone OD!”

“How can you be so sure? Anything can happen, Eddie! This is stupid, this is irresponsible.”

Eddie gets in Steve’s face, and he imagines he’d be a whole lot more intimidating if it wasn’t for Steve’s stupid sex cuffs he’s still wearing. “And leaving a van full of drugs on the street where anyone can get them isn’t? Grow up, Steve. Why do you really have me here?”

Steve cowers back at that, suddenly turning away from Eddie but not before he catches sight of the tears welling in his eyes.

“Aw, come on, Steve.” Eddie tries, feeling his own eyes grow warm with tears. He’s already going to jail, he doesn’t need to feel bad about telling Steve how it is on top of everything else.

Steve doesn’t face him, doesn’t respond.

How could he? How could he explain that he’s alone? That all of the kids have grown and scattered across the country in pursuit of their own college adventures. That Nance is some bigshot reporter in Los Angeles. That Rob is traveling the world. She had wanted Steve to come with her, but when he decided to pursue law enforcement right here in Hawkins, she reached out to someone else. Who would have known Tammy Thompson’s singing voice would be so popular in different countries?

Steve’s happy for them. So fucking happy.

So maybe that’s why he’s so angry he could cry. Because the only person he has left isn’t his, won’t ever be his, especially now that Steve has specifically chosen a career that’s put him on the opposite side of the law than Eddie. It’s the one time since this entire journey of his that he’s truly regretted his decision to become an officer.

3.) Bargaining

“Remember when we saved the world?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, staring deep into Steve’s as he tries to make his case. “You didn’t give up on me then. We worked pretty well together! Why do you have to give up on me now?”

Steve sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s more difficult than that, Eddie. I haven’t given up on you. I just have to do this. It’s my job.”

“And selling is my job! I’m not hurting anyone.” Eddie cowers when Steve fixes him with a look.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so overzealous about contributing to the decline of humanity.

“I mean,” he continues, “it’s not like I like my job. It’s just the only one I can do. No one will hire me.”

Steve puts his hands on his hips and Eddie expects him to be chastised for something, but instead Steve only says—

“Your birthday’s coming up. Let me make you a cake. What flavor you want?”

Eddie blinks. Did he hear him correctly? Maybe he got a concussion from when Steve knocked him to the ground earlier. “Officer Harrington, offering to make me a cake? Are you gonna give me a show too?”

“Show? What—” Realization dawns on his face as he takes in Eddie’s cackle. “I’m not a stripper! Fuck you.”

“You wish.” Eddie snorts.

They’re left staring at each other uncomfortably long before Eddie sighs, drags a hand down his face. “Angel food. Out of character, right? I know.”

“I like devil’s food.”

“Really? Devil’s food? Huh.”

Steve nods. “I used to love red velvet.”

“Used to?”

“Can’t anymore. Maybe if I eat it already made, but I can’t deal with the mix anymore.”

Steve doesn’t explain, instead just leaving Eddie to sit there. He doesn’t know much about baking but he thinks he can take a wild guess.

“Blood. It looks like blood, doesn’t it?”

Steve nods, keeps his eyes trained down. Searching his hands for something that used to be there. “Especially the mixer. When it slings the mix around the sides of the bowl? It’s kind of funny how much it looks like blood.”

“Steve.”

“I try not to let it bother me. But it really shaped me, y’know? You don’t realize the things that’ll end up scarring you. I mean, shit, I gave up a stable and well-paying career where I don’t have to do anything more than sit at my desk and yell at some poor person.” He huffs, runs a hand down his face. “Instead I chose a job where I literally run into danger because apparently I didn’t get enough of that knocked into my head with each concussion.”

“You did it because you want to save people, Steve. It’s who you are.” Eddie briefly worries maybe Steve did choose the wrong career. A career that could put his life in danger, or traumatize him further. What if some bloodbath happens and Steve can’t handle it? Stranger things have happened in Hawkins. “Plus you don’t want to yell at some poor person.” He dips his chin, a grin spreading across his face. “You could always quit while you’re ahead, take your cushy office job. I’ll give up my…extracurricular activities and be the assistant you yell at all the time. I’ll know you don’t mean it.” He bargains, tone saccharine and joking but he couldn’t be more serious.

Steve tilts his head, seems to consider it. “While your rap sheet isn’t that long or bad, you still probably wouldn’t get hired.”

Eddie’s smile falls. “Ouch. You wouldn’t hire me?”

“I don’t know if I’d have that kind of power. Plus, I’d have to go get my degree before I could even think about begging my father for the position.”

Eddie frowns. Even if he didn’t want Steve to be an officer of the law, he didn’t want him to waste away in four more years of school only to have to defeat the final boss that is Mr. Harrington himself.

“What if I told you I can turn in some powerful names?” Eddie switches gears. If Steve’s meant to be the do-gooder officer, then he can at least be a do-gooder drug dealer.

Steve narrows his eyes in intrigue, “Like who?”

“Like Kline?” Eddie offers up, voice high.

Steve rolls his eyes. “He’s not the mayor anymore.”

“But he still buys! More so now that he’s hit rock bottom.” When Steve doesn’t respond Eddie sighs. “Okay, how about Principal Higgins? You can’t tell me Hawkins PD wants our youth going to school under that.” He hopes this works. “I can get you all of the important people, the ones who influence today’s youth.” Eddie doesn’t know of much, but maybe he can find out more from Reefer Rick.

Steve’s expression changes. Bingo. “How long has Higgins been buying? Does he use on school property?”

“I’ve personally known since ‘84. Keeps little blue bottles right there in his desk drawer.”

“And they’re not prescription?”

“Unless Reefer Rick got a medical degree and didn’t tell me—”

Steve nods. “Okay, I can work with that. But, Eddie, he’ll just flip on you. Higgins. Rick. Anyone will. They’d get the deal. The disgraced former mayor and Higgins are small fish. Typically we want the big one.”

“You think I’m the big one? I’m flattered, really.” Eddie puts his hand to his chest and flutters his lashes. “Okay, how about Charlie Greene? He’s one of the biggest drug kingpins in Oregon. Weed, coke, heroin, speed, K—if he can’t grow it or cook it himself he imports it.”

This catches Steve’s attention. “Tell me more.”

“He’s got a whole fleet of produce trucks he uses to transport. Farris Farms. Last I saw, there were kilos and kilos of pot wrapped up to look like carrots. I do know of at least two of the guys by name. CJ and Toby.”

Steve visibly brightens, looks a good ten years younger. He pulls out his little pocket notebook and pen. “Last names?”

Eddie winces, “Sorry, I don’t know everything. Didn’t think to ask while I was doing something I shouldn’t have.”

Steve frowns, and Eddie feels like a kicked puppy. Or like he’s the one who kicked the puppy. “Uh huh. And how do you have that connection?”

“Because Al Munson tricked me into stealing their supply to pay them back for something he also stole from them.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah. Believe it or not that was the first time I’d had guns pointed at me. It was also the first time I got arrested, but I hadn’t actually been arrested for anything they could keep me on. I tried to stop a cop from bleeding out and he vouched for me after he was out of surgery. That’s just about the only time a good deed worked out for me.”

Steve worries his lip just long enough for Eddie to worry it would bleed.

Steve puts his notebook and pen back away in his little uniform pocket, a blue uniform that looks pretty damn good on him. “I’m making you that cake.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Mm hmm. Come on, you can come sit in the kitchen with me.”

After he’s settled in and watching Steve collect the necessary ingredients he speaks, “You saved my life, Steve. I never forgot that. Felt like maybe you did.” Eddie clears his throat, wishes it didn’t sound so hoarse.

Steve barely glances at him before finishing measuring out some sugar. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. About that night. How close you came to being another body caught in the crossfire.” Steve shudders. “I’m just happy we’re having this conversation.”

“You’re happy you have me in your sex cuffs in your kitchen while you bake me a cake? You’re into some weird stuff, man.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it, asshole.” But Steve smiles anyway.

Despite the distance between them these last few years, their playful back and forth banter is organic. Eddie appreciates that.

By the time Steve’s caught him up on all the hazing he’s suffered, Eddie’s laughing so hard he barely feels like any time has passed at all.

By the time the cake is out and cooling on a wire rack, Eddie is so taken by the fact that Steve actually seems to want to know about him, that he’s actually interested in him and his life, that Eddie might just find himself on his knees between Steve’s legs—if Steve wasn’t already in that exact position for Eddie.

“I should have known this is what gets you going,” Eddie pants as Steve takes more of him into his mouth, making up the difference with one hand while using his other to explore the expanse of Eddie’s tummy, his thighs, before finally caressing his balls. “I will let you arrest me anytime, big boy.” Eddie promises with a gasp.

Steve can feel Eddie trying not to buck up into his mouth, resisting the temptation to choke him with his cock as Steve moans his appreciation around him. Steve can’t blame him—he’s been teasing him nonstop since he managed to get his hands around Eddie’s handcuff belt buckle, being too gentle, too light, too fleeting when he knows Eddie wants more. Knows they both want more. It’s just serving to amp Eddie up; Steve hopes it’s enough to make up for how this will all end between them.

Steve pulls back to lick around the head of Eddie’s cock, not hiding any of the vulgar, wet noises that come along with it. He looks up at Eddie, who has thrown his head back. Steve moans around the head, speeding up his hand on the base of the shaft.

He pulls off with a lewd pop, forcing Eddie to keep his eyes trained down on him.

Steve thinks Eddie is a vision, he’s certain of it actually. With his hair drooping messily in front of his face, lips parted and a flush high on his cheeks, Steve would do nearly anything for him. Especially with his pale and tattooed chest dusted with an evident blush.

Steve wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before slowly pumping Eddie again. “I don’t want to argue with you,” he says, “and I want you to take what you want.”

He takes Eddie’s hands from where they clench at his own bare thighs and pulls them to rest in his hair. When he can feel Eddie’s grip tensing in his hairspray-stiff waves, Steve puts his mouth back on him, taking him down as far as he can, hollowing his cheeks and sucking like his life depends on it.

Eddie holds him in place for a moment before letting Steve pull back and bob back forward in a quick rhythm.

They can both feel the saliva pooling in Steve’s mouth as he tries to take Eddie deeper and deeper with every pull, swallowing when he can feel Eddie closing in on, and eventually, hitting the back of his throat. He can feel the hands in his hair tightening to the point where he worries Eddie may be causing irreparable damage to his roots. It hurts—but it’s a dull ache, and a welcome one. This is what he wanted.

Steve chances another look up at Eddie with his cock as far down his throat as he can take it without needing to pull off, and he can see Eddie’s eyes trained on his—half-lidded, clouded with pleasure. He’s biting his bottom lip, in effort to not make noise, perhaps? No, that just won’t do, Steve thinks, as he swallows Eddie again, moaning around the hot, thick weight on his tongue.

He’s blessed with a string of sharp expletives from Eddie’s mouth, which would make Steve smile if his mouth wasn’t so full.

He swallows again. At this, he can feel Eddie fight back his climax as he holds on to Steve’s hair as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded, and finally forces him down to take the rest of him down Steve’s throat.

Steve can feel Eddie come as he’s held there, unable to move or breathe. He could die like this, Steve thinks, and he’d probably be fine with it. It would make for a hell of a story, anyway.

Steve Harrington died doing what he loves: Eddie Munson.

When Eddie finally releases his hold on Steve’s hair, Steve pulls back quickly with a gasp, chest heaving as he catches his breath, but Eddie is already clumsily trying to use his limited range to haul him up for a hungry kiss. The kiss is wet as Eddie seems to be chasing the taste of himself in Steve’s mouth—as if there was anything there to taste with how far he came down his throat.

Steve feels like putty in Eddie’s hands; he doesn’t resist at all when Eddie flips their positions so that Steve’s the one sitting in the kitchen chair, and in another swift movement, twisted again so that his back is flush to Eddie’s front, his front pressed nearly in half against the table.

Eddie attempts to pin him there as he uses both hands to fumble with Steve’s zipper, pulling his jeans down just enough to expose his ass to the cool air.

He withdraws his hands and Steve can hear him spit into his hands before reaching around to grip Steve’s painfully hard cock in his fists.

The position is beyond awkward, with Eddie still being cuffed, but he’s nothing if not determined.

“Next time,” Eddie says, draping his body over Steve’s, looming over him like a warm shadow. He releases his grip in favor to dip a few fingers between the cleft of Steve’s ass, just feeling. “I’m going to fuck you, just like this. Bend you over the table next time you try to convince me you’re not the greatest man to ever live.

Steve groans—he can’t do much of anything else between the sensations around him; Eddie feels too good. Between barely touching him and his threatening promises, Steve is ready to come when Eddie wraps his hands around him once more, jerking him under the table with perfect rhythm. As soon as Eddie dips a finger to tease his small hole on the tip of his cock, that’s all he can handle: he comes hard, shooting across the tiled floor of his kitchen with Eddie’s name on his lips.

He shudders as Eddie pulls him up again, and he’s expecting a rough kiss—but instead, he just gets tenderness. Eddie kisses him sweetly, chastely, even tries his hardest to hold Steve to him, wanting nothing more than a warm embrace. Steve thinks maybe he could and should take off the sex cuffs.

Of all that they’ve just done together, this is what takes Steve’s breath away the most.

4.) Depression

Looking at Steve, Eddie becomes excruciatingly aware of the distance between them.

Steve had apparently retreated into himself. Losing whatever intimate atmosphere that surrounded them right after handing Eddie a glass of water.

In fact, there was so much distance between them that Steve is currently leaning against the opposite kitchen wall, as far from Eddie as possible. He tried not to let it bother him, but Eddie has never been God’s strongest soldier.

After staring at Steve’s profile for too long to count, Eddie speaks, tired of Steve avoiding his eyes.

“Hey, you know—I didn’t even get to properly hug you or anything, man. I mean, I haven’t seen you in forever and we didn’t even, I don’t know, commemorate it or something like that.” Eddie says with furrowed brows.

He sets the empty glass down on the table he held Steve against just minutes ago. “Steve?” Eddie takes a hesitant step forward.

“I…I kinda don’t think that’s a good idea right now, Eds.” Steve finally says, looking away from his floor and up at Eddie with an uncomfortable look in his eyes.

“What?” Eddie scoffs, a little too loud and a little too snappy considering the feelings swirling around inside of him. Maybe that’s exactly why he’s so loud and snappy. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Steve raises his brows, like he’s surprised Eddie isn’t happy with his opinion. “Whoa, you don’t have to be like that, you know. You know exactly why we shouldn’t. I mean I’m happy to see you again, don’t get me wrong, but these circumstances are horrible—” He holds a hand up to stop Eddie from speaking. “—and I’m well aware that it’s my own fault we’re in this situation. I either should have let you go or arrested you immediately, not… complicate things.”

Steve looks away from him again, no need to observe it when he can feel Eddie still staring holes into him.

He knows that if he looks up, he’ll see the hurt in his eyes, the hurt he can hear in his voice.

“You seriously don’t even wanna hug me? Not even a ‘hey, nice to see you, bro’ and a pat on the shoulder? Even after—I can’t believe you right now,” Eddie is really raising his voice now, “I have my dick down your throat, my hand around yours, it’s fine—but somehow hugging me is crossing a line?”

Eddie would basically be screaming right now if his voice wasn’t so choked up and full of suppressed feelings.

“Eddie—” Steve starts softly, but Eddie’s sudden outburst of anger takes him by surprise.

“No! Don’t even start with this crap, with you’re excuses and your, ‘Eddie, be reasonable about this,’ I fucking can’t take it, not from you. I don’t see you, properly see you, in years, I want a fucking hug, or just…something, anything, Steve!”

Steve hadn’t dared to look up during Eddie’s cry.

He didn’t want to hurt him. Why didn’t Eddie just understand that Steve couldn’t give him what he wanted, what he needed so desperately himself? He would make things worse. He just knows it. He already has.

When Eddie stops talking and the silence becomes unbearable, Steve finally looks up.

Eddie hadn’t moved, his back still to the counter, his knuckles white from clutching the surface.

Steve looks up at his face and sees tear tracks down Eddie’s cheek, head down, avoiding Steve’s gaze.

Immediately, Steve steps forward, closing the remaining distance between them and raises a hand towards Eddie’s red and dampened cheek, brushing a stray tear off with his thumb just in time before Eddie’s cuffed hand reaches his face.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Eddie.” Against his better judgment, Steve closes his arms around him, pulling him close.

He feels Eddie’s chin wobble in the dent of his shoulder.

“I didn’t wanna hurt you. I really didn’t.” Steve starts, but Eddie cuts him off, pulling away to create enough space between them to look Steve in the eye.

“No, it’s fine, I just…” Eddie drifts off.

It’s not fine. Nothing about this night is fine. The first time he’s ever been able to be intimate with Steve, able to show some hint of how he really feels about him, and the memory will forever be tarnished by how this night will end. Of course it hadn’t began so good either.

Eddie spent the last hours of daylight scrubbing his uncle’s headstone clean from red graffiti which read awful and completely untrue things about him. Wayne was never a bad man; but the Munson name carries a reputation. After that, Eddie made the split-decision to pick up more than usual from Rick, not wanting to see him again until next week instead of their every-other-night dealings. Then flashing red and blue lights in his rearview mirror, and Steve in a blue uniform.

This night has been horrible. Steve was just about the only good thing about it.

Eddie might as well enjoy the time he has left.

5.) Acceptance

Eddie’s heart aches for reasons that are probably more psychological than physical, especially when Steve takes Eddie’s face into his hands, soothingly running his right thumb up and down his cheek. This time, however, Eddie gives into the touch.

He moves his head just enough for the next caring stroke to brush over his lower lip instead of Eddie’s cheek like Steve had intended.

Steve pauses, as if unsure what to do, but Eddie’s made his decision.

He kisses the tip of Steve’s thumb.

When Steve doesn’t react, Eddie takes it a step further, parting his lips to wrap around his fingertip.

Steve can feel the warmth and wetness of Eddie’s mouth on his skin; can feel arousal stir in his gut once more. He presses his thumb into Eddie’s mouth, watches the way Eddie sucks on the digit before his eyes fixate onto Eddie’s.

Once Eddie gets a good taste of his skin, he releases Steve’s thumb with a soft plop, only audible because the kitchen is so deadly quiet.

Steve looks startled for a second, as if waking from a dream he didn’t even realize he was having.

Eddie’s mind fills with dark thoughts and a further spiraling mood.

“Sorry man, that was really weird, sorry.” He hastily spits out, taking a step back out of whatever pocket dimension they’ve found themselves trapped in.

Before he realizes it, tears start spilling from his eyes again. God, what was wrong with him? He’s been through much worse than getting rejected by some guy.

Steve watched him closely, letting Eddie keep his small distance until the tears start back up. Now he steps forward, slowly nearing Eddie as he would a dangerous animal, prepared to be torn to shreds for his next move.

He cups Eddie’s chin and tilts it upwards until their eyes meet. “Please stop crying.”

Eddie isn’t sure if he can do that… But he can do this.

With a only a second of reaction time and a small moan he’ll deny until his dying breath, Eddie meets Steve’s lips in a desperate, wet kiss. One Steve instantly returns.

Their kiss, only their second kiss, increases in neediness and lust so fast that Eddie can’t hold back the noticeably louder moans that make Steve kiss him even harder.

Steve is sure that his heart will burst and his lungs will collapse but he just can’t let go of Eddie, can’t let this opportunity get away. He loves him.

He’s basically shoving Eddie against the counter now, rubbing his hips against the gasping and moaning mess of a man.

When the sharp pain in Eddie’s lower back from where the edge of the counter presses into him increases to unbearable amounts, he finally pulls off for air and looks into Steve’s wide, familiar eyes. He knows his own must be reflecting that look of want.

But instead of pushing Eddie away again or taking his pants off, Steve pulls Eddie close and holds him tight; like he’ll lose him if he lets go. In a way, he will and they both know that.

Eddie inhales the familiar scent of Steve’s shirt. He never got to see what brand of cologne Steve uses, but Eddie knows it’s the same one he wore back in ‘86; he’d wager it’s probably Calvin Klein’s Obsession for men.

Steve presses a kiss on Eddie’s forehead, over his messy and probably sweaty bangs but it doesn’t seem to bother him any because he starts kissing a line along Eddie’s neck, jaw and cheek until their foreheads are pressed together and his hands are back to cupping Eddie’s face.

“Bedroom?” Eddie asks, breathless.

“Yeah, lets do that.”

With that, Eddie takes Steve’s offered hand, still wearing the stupid sex cuffs so it’s a bit awkward as Steve drags him through the kitchen door and through the short hallway to his bedroom.

Once within a reasonable distance from Steve’s bed, Eddie is suddenly pushed onto the mattress.

It’s not that he’s particularly scared of being pushed, especially by Steve, but with his hands bound and unable to catch himself it startles him. Before he can voice his disapproval, Steve is crawling on top of him, his strong arms holding Eddie down as he covers his lips in needy kisses—as if Eddie even needed to be held down.

When Steve rocks his hips against Eddie in a desperate attempt to satisfy his already hardened dick, Eddie suddenly stops all movements as he uses both hands to push against Steve’s chest.

When Steve sees the unsure look on his face and feels the pressure on his chest, he distances himself. “Oh, shit, did you not want to—”

“No, um, it’s just… Well, what’s the game plan here, Harrington? I mean, are w—are you gonna fuck me?” Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, adding a hasty—“Because I’d really like that.”

“Oh, yeah, Eds. I would really like that too.” Steve smiles before adding on—“But I look forward to you bending me over my own kitchen table some time.”

Eddie nods, wide-eyed. He can’t believe this is actually happening. Wayne is probably rolling over in his grave right now. Not because he’s against this way of life, despite being Catholic, but because he’d clocked Eddie’s crush years ago and Eddie had vehemently denied it to the point of blaring his music at an even more disrespectful volume than usual. He supposes he owes him an apology now.

Maybe Steve will take him to the cemetery to say it, and goodbye.

“But… Neither of us have done this before…right?” Eddie questions, wondering if instinct and common sense will just take over.

Steve bites his bottom lip, genuine concern in his eyes as he considers how exactly they’re meant to have sex. “Right, but I think if we go slow it’ll be okay. But only if you want it, though.”

“No, yeah, I trust you.” Eddie confirms with a nod.

“Okay. If you change your mind, you’ll tell me, right?”

“Yes.”

“Even if I’m already inside?”

Eddie would roll his eyes if it wasn’t for knowing Steve is just trying to be a good person. “Yes, Steve.”

“Even if we’ve been doing it for a little bit and it could almost be done but you change your mind—”

“Yes, Steve, I understand! Just fuck me already!” Eddie exclaims, just about ready to get himself off when Steve kisses him so dirty that Eddie can’t help but moan into his mouth.

“Fuck, I didn’t know you could be like this.” Eddie admits, always envisioning Steve to be a missionary and vanilla man. A straight man too.

“Yeah, well, you’re in for a treat, baby.”

Before Eddie can make a smug remark, Steve starts to kiss his way down to Eddie’s neck as he uses his left hand to explore under his shirt and circle the only nipple Eddie has left, which forces a surprised moan out of him. He had lost quite a bit of sensitivity after the demobats damaged the nerves under his skin, but there’s something about Steve’s touch that lights a fire beneath his skin.

Steve sucks a mark into Eddie’s neck, and Eddie hopes it will be visible for days after even if it might put him on his cellmate’s radar. Eddie’s no bitch, but he also knows sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to to survive.

Steve slides his other hand under Eddie’s shirt, pulling it up and forcing them to break their contact in order to slip the shirt over Eddie’s head.

“Steve, can you please take off your damn sex cuffs? I mean, they’re great and all but—” he shakes his hands to show how the shirt had gotten tangled.

“Shit, yeah. Hold on…” Steve fumbles in his pants pocket before retrieving a little key, finally freeing Eddie’s wrists.

Eddie immediately rubs at them. They’re not exactly sore, but they are clammy and tender.

“You okay?” Steve asks, reaching for Eddie’s hands as he looks over them with a careful eye.

“They’re fine. Please just get me out of these jeans.” He begs, wiggling his hips.

Steve smirks and goes directly back to Eddie’s body, giving one particularly harsh bite on the lone nipple. He laughs when Eddie’s hips buck up and his hands bury themselves in Steve’s hair.

Steve’s desire to get Eddie naked is much stronger than teasing Eddie any longer, so he follows the request gladly and unbuckles Eddie’s belt, gently pulling the tight jeans down. After a hesitant look up to Eddie, who nods slightly, he pulls his boxers down too before discarding both onto the floor.

“Fuck.” Steve says breathlessly as he takes in Eddie’s completely nude body, his own arousal heightened as he gets to see Eddie in a way he’d never gotten to before.

He wastes no time in pulling off his uniform, which he both thanks and curses for Eddie being beneath him at this moment.

When he’s naked, Eddie just stares. Eyes wide, mouth agape. He hadn’t gotten a good view earlier, but now he gets to see… Well, he gets to see that Steve has once again been unfairly blessed with literally everything. He regrets never trying to be on any sports team that would warrant him to have to change and shower in the locker room with Steve.

But Eddie doesn’t have a whole lot of time to admire the muscles, the face, the beautifully curved dick and everything else that will forever accompany his dreams, though, because Steve fixes him with a smug smirk before speaking.

“Like what you see, Munson?” Before giving the still speechless Eddie another sloppy kiss.

When Steve pulls away for breath Eddie laughs, “I never thought I’d see the day where you take off my pants.”

“Really?” Steve grins, “I always kind of knew it was gonna happen. Or at least I had very strong hopes.”

“Fuck me!” Eddie exclaims, the new emotion of annoyance making itself known within him thanks to the knowledge that he and Steve could have done this so many years ago if only he wasn’t such a judging idiot.

They’d probably be having sex in their own apartment right now instead of this hookup before Steve takes him to jail, if only Eddie had pursued him sooner—or at all.

Before he can get too deep in his head, he carefully puts his hand around Steve’s dick.

He moves his hand down to the base and Steve notices he’s looking at the tip of his dick, where a little precome had gathered.

Pausing his movements, Eddie looks up at Steve with an almost hopeful look in his eyes. “Can I blow you?

A blush crosses Steve’s face, any cockiness long gone by Eddie’s words. “Yeah, sure.” Then he changes positions with Eddie so that his back is against his headboard, and Eddie is straddling Steve’s legs as he swallows him down with no hesitation.

Eddie gives it his all, like Steve expected he would, like Steve himself had done.

Steve watches Eddie through half-lidded eyes, in too much pleasure to stare with widened eyes but not wanting to miss a second as he watches Eddie.

Eddie’s confidence is only boosted by the look on Steve’s face, and the many noises Steve makes as he continuously takes more of Steve’s enormous cock into his mouth.

He wastes no time, pushing down as deep as he can go, moving up again and simultaneously cupping Steve’s balls with his left hand.

Steve’s half-closed eyes now shut completely as he thumps his head back against the wall with animalistic groan that would have made Eddie worry if he wasn’t so fucking turned on.

“Fuck, Eds, oh God, why are you so good at his?” Steve asks with his hand in Eddie’s hair, who slurps at and sucks Steve’s dick as if his life depended on it; in a way, Eddie thinks it might.

“Oh God, you need to stop though, Eds, if we want this to go any further, you really have to not make me come right now.” Steve urges, tugging at Eddie’s hair.

With a pop, Eddie pulls off and immediately crawls up to Steve, letting him taste his own dick in a dirty kiss.

Eddie’s own cock was aching to be touched now as he turns to lie down on the empty side of the bed to give Steve the opportunity to take care of him now; and Steve intended to.

He kisses Eddies belly, touching every inch of skin he can find, before startling Eddie into a moan with a wide lick across his balls.

While moving onto Eddie’s dick and taking the tip into his mouth, Steve fumbles around for his nightstand drawer, opening and closing it.

He sucks Eddie hard, before pulling away altogether to get a good look at his flushed face.

Steve looks at the condom he has in hand before meeting Eddie’s eyes. “Have you had something inside you before?”

“Yeah… Nothing compared to what you’re carrying but I’ve experimented here and there. Never had an actual dick up there, though.”

Steve nods, thinks to himself before reaching for his bottle of lotion, grateful it’s the unscented kind. “Okay, I’m gonna start slow. Tell me when to stop.”

Eddie nods, not pointing out Steve said when and not if.

Steve grabs one of the pillows Eddie isn’t lying on and helps Eddie to tuck it under his hips before lifting his legs up for easier access.

There’s something about the way Eddie looks at him, so trusting and open for him. It feels so intimate to Steve that he almost can’t stand it.

Steve tries to warm the lotion in hand, but Eddie still flinches when he slowly inserts one finger and it slips it in oh so easily, pushing past the rim and into Eddie’s warm body.

“More.” Eddie requests before Steve had even started moving.

Steve complies as he carefully pushes a second one in, feeling Eddie tighten. He studies his face carefully for any sign of discomfort or regret before he starts moving his fingers in a gentle but steady pace.

“We’re gonna need a third one.” Eddie says through a particularly loud moan as Steve thrusts his two fingers deep and hard into a spot that Eddie has only ever felt on his own self-fulfilled adventures.

So after a bit more lotion, Steve does push a third one in and Eddie melts under his touch.

Steve’s fingers were perfect for this, Eddie thinks as he floats away, not able to stop smiling even while Steve pounds his fingers into him. If this is how could three fingers can make him feel, he can not wait for the real thing.

“Steve, I’m ready.” He moans desperately.

Relieved, Steve smiles at Eddie as he pulls his cramping hand free to put on the condom. He isn’t even worried that Eddie has anything, he just hopes the lubrication it has with it will help Eddie with the stretch.

He looks at Eddie’s expectant face, his beautiful body and positions his throbbing cock at Eddie’s hole. With a deep groan, Steve slowly slides his aching cock into Eddies tight, hot ass.

Eddie screams out, though it ends on a keening mewl. With the stretch of his asshole, what feels like fire igniting throughout him, he can already tell he’ll be sore tomorrow.

“Fuck.” Eddie whispers, tears already threatening to spill down his face.

“Fuck.” Steve echoes him, his voice hoarse like he’d been the one who was screaming.

Steve slows himself once fully sheathed, doesn’t move a single inch. He runs a soothing hand over Eddie’s tummy. “You okay?”

Eddie blinks back his tears and nods his head. “‘M good, Steve, don’t stop, fuck. I’m good, I want—I want it. Want you.”

When Steve looks like he’s having doubts, Eddie closes his eyes. “Just don’t pull out, please.” He mumbles.

“You sure, sweetheart? I can get something else. Vaseline maybe—”

“No,” Eddie squeaks. Pushes back onto Steve. “Feels good, the pain.” He reaches up, fingers grazing the tanned muscles of Steve’s arm, over his chest and through the hair that rests there. He looks even hairier than the time on Lover’s Lake when he nearly drowned just before getting mauled by demobats. They survived for a reason, he concludes.

Eddie smiles. At Steve, to himself. “Want it hard,” he confesses breathily.

The tenderness of Steve’s hazel eyes makes him feel safe. Wanted. Makes him never want to be out of Steve’s sight, be without his attention.

Steve brings his own hand down to Eddie’s waist, squeezes him gently before snapping his hips roughly, suddenly, drawing those keening noises out from Eddie’s lips once more.

He pushes Eddie’s legs to his chest and holds them there, pulling out just to push into the deeper angle a second later, making Eddie let out a punched out noise as Steve hits his prostate head on.

Pleased with the reaction, Steve pulls out again and pushes back in, harder this time and as deep as he could go, watching Eddie’s face the whole time.

He isn’t disappointed. The little show Eddie seems to be subconsciously putting on only gets better with each thrust. His mouth opens in a gasp at each intrusion and his head settles further into the pillow beneath it.

With hands clenching the sheets, he whispers. “Yeah, just like that, Steve.”

“Oh, you like that?“ Steve teases even as he sweats more than he did when he was finding out if he passed the single most important exam of his life. “You want me to fuck you really hard tonight?”

Not waiting for an answer to his rhetorical question, he begins really fucking into Eddie now, pounding him into the mattress. He goes so hard, he worries it’ll be too much for Eddie, or for him.

But judging by the the sounds Eddie is making, he’s enjoying himself; if a little overwhelmed, crying out every time Steve buries his thick cock in him. Despite the tears streaming down his face, the wild grin on his face and painful looking erection shows Steve exactly how much he loves it.

When Steve changes the angle, spreading his legs a little, Eddie honest to God thinks he’s about to die. Die from being fucked by this incredible man. A cop, his brain reminds him. He supposes this is what they meant when they say “fuck the police”.

The mixture of pleasure and pain begins to be too much for him, and he knows an orgasm will be punched out of him very soon.

Steve seems to knows this too.

A deep sob escapes Eddie’s mouth when Steve thrusts into him particularly hard.

“Shhh, come on, Eds, I know you want to come with me inside you so deep. Because you’re so full right now, baby, and I can feel you clenching around me. So fucking tight. Do you like it like that, your dick untouched and me pushing into you while you moan so desperately? Come for me, baby. I missed you so much, Eds.”

And with that, Eddie utters a surprised sound as he comes all over their chests, making a bigger mess with each increasingly desperate thrust from Steve.

Through the haze of his orgasm, Eddie can feel Steve shaking and with one, two last pushes and a guttural almost painful groan, he closes his eyes and comes deep into Eddie, his whole body pressing Eddie into the mattress, filling the condom with his come.

They both secretly wish there hadn’t been one.

Eddie’s exhausted when he comes down from the headspace he’s occupied. His face buried deep into Steve’s pillow, drool threatening to leak out of the corner of his mouth, eyes half-closed and blurry to his surroundings. His untouched cock is as sensitive as his hole when Steve pulls out. It’s almost a relief, he had been so desperate to be smothered by the weight of Steve Harrington that he’s realized he can finally breath again.

But something in his mind short circuits as Steve moves off of him, getting back and away.

Eddie can hear him enter his bathroom, turn on the sink, but he can’t convince himself it’s okay.

Steve has left him.

But just as soon as Eddie is ready to cry for an entirely different reason, Steve is back in Eddie’s personal space with a cool and damp washcloth wiping gently over his skin. Pressing lightly in a slow wipe across his belly and ass. Steve is careful, knowing Eddie is tender and raw. That’s enough to make Eddie want to cry again.

When he finishes cleaning him up, Steve lies down beside Eddie, wrapping a protective arm around him.

They stay like that in silence for quite some time before Eddie comes back to himself and lets out a sort of laugh that doesn’t sound quite right to either of them.

Eddie says, “Okay, dude, all I wanted was a hug.”

Steve rolls his eyes and pushes Eddie a little before pulling him back in tighter than before. “One day, I wanna be fucked like that by you.” Steve says as if it were nothing, prompting Eddie to wiggle out of his hold to face him.

“Oh, we can arrange that. I believe they’re called conjugal visits?”

Steve gives him a look. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Eddie mirrors him. “Are you just figuring this out?”

Steve smiles and shakes his head at the ceiling. “Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes?”

Eddie follows Steve’s gaze to the popcorn ceiling. “That’d make a really good song lyric.”

“You’re right. It’d totally be pop.”

Eddie looks at the other, aghast. “No way, Harrington. It’d be metal, rock. At the very worst it’d be country. Not pop.”

Steve only grins. “Sure, Munson, whatever you say.”

Eddie says nothing as he watches Steve’s bedside clock show the new morning hour. They really did have a sleepover, a real one where no one actually sleeps. “You have to take me in now, don’t you?”

Steve leans over him to check the clock. 5:30. “I do.” Eddie would swear Steve actually sounds disappointed.

Eddie swallows the lump building in his throat. “That’s okay. You gave me one last night of freedom, and man was it an experience.”

Warmth blooms across Steve’s face and down his chest. “I wish I didn’t have to.” He admits with a sigh, pulling Eddie closer once more.

Eddie doesn’t indulge in the fantasies any longer. “It’s for the best. You said it yourself, the little fish will flip on me anyway. Best if I go willingly, right? Maybe work out some deal.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t say anything more.

As the minutes count down until they have to leave their little pocket dimension, Eddie begins to cry again.

He won’t admit he’s crying over Steve, instead he turns up the drama to hide his real feelings just as he always has. “I haven’t got to watch Graveyard Shift yet. Misery. Night of the Living Dead. Or fuckin’…Edward Scissorhands. Ghost. Beetlejuice. Heathers. Winona Ryder is pretty hot. So is Patrick Swayze. Sue me.”

Steve says nothing as Eddie rambles and bemoans all the movies he hasn’t seen yet, how many he’ll miss, he just wraps his arms around him tighter.

6.) Hope

2014.

Eddie’s hair was still the same length as it was when he began his sentence, keeping it trimmed through the years. His hair is now streaked with gray, looking more salt and pepper verses the dark brown he had in his youth. Even if his personal style is long since out of style, it’s still his style.

He pushes some of his hair out of his eyes when he sees a silver SUV pull in front of him.

He’s about to look behind him to see who else might be getting released when Steve rolls down the passenger window, smiling at him from the driver’s seat. “Need a ride?”

Eddie grins, jumping to his feet as he approaches the shiny silver vehicle. “Downgraded, huh?”

“Who needs a BMW in their forties?”

“You look like a soccer mom in this thing.” Eddie snickers as he climbs in and buckles up without being asked.

“That’s the thanks I get for picking your grimy ass up?” Steve shakes his head but still has that smile. He’s aged too, Eddie realizes.

Steve’s hair is shorter now, less big. No product. He’s got crow’s feet around his eyes, which are adorned by a really nice pair of browline glasses that suit him.

Eddie feels his heart skip a beat.

“Want to hear some music?” Steve asks suddenly. “I got a new CD in I think you might like.”

“Sure, yeah. Why not? Might as well see what the world’s been up to while I was away.” Eddie agrees with a nod; anything to distract him from how Steve has apparently aged like fine wine.

“Awesome.” Steve presses the play button, and Eddie sees it’s on track seven.

Goin’ out tonight, changes into something red

Her mother doesn’t like that kind of dress

Everything she never had she’s showin’ off

“Hey, Steve, what is this shit?” Eddie looks at him incredulously. He’s always known Steve had a shitty taste in music but this is a new low.

“Just listen.” He cranks it up.

Drivin’ too fast, moon is breakin’ through her hair

She’s headin’ for somethin’ that she won’t forget

Havin’ no regrets is all that she really wants

“Is this song about a girl losing her virginity?” Eddie almost laughs.

“Just listen!” Steve insists.

We’re only gettin’ older, baby

And I’ve been thinkin’ about it lately

Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes?

Eddie has such a visceral reaction to that last line that he can’t help but to listen more closely. “No! Seriously?”

“Seriously!” Steve exclaims, excited as he begins to drum the beat on the steering wheel, even going as far as singing along.

Everything that you’ve ever dreamed of

Disappearing when you wake up

But there’s nothing to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

It will never change me and you

Eddie shakes his head. “I can’t believe this.”

Chasing it tonight, doubts are runnin’ ‘round her head

He’s waitin’, hides behind a cigarette

Heart is beatin’ loud and she doesn’t want it to stop

“We could have had a hit song.” Steve supplies as he makes a right turn.

Movin’ too fast, moon is lightin’ up her skin

She’s fallin’, doesn’t even know it yet

Havin’ no regrets is all that she really wants

“This is insane.”

We’re only gettin’ older, baby

And I’ve been thinkin’ about it lately

Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes?

Everything that you’ve ever dreamed of

Disappearing when you wake up

But there’s nothing to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

It will never change me and you

“Steve, I can’t believe this.”

Goin’ out tonight, changes into something red

Her mother doesn’t like that kind of dress

Reminds her of the missin’ piece of innocence she lost

We’re only gettin’ older, baby

And I’ve been thinkin’ about it lately

Does it ever drive you crazy

Just how fast the night changes?

Everything that you’ve ever dreamed of

Disappearing when you wake up

But there’s nothing to be afraid of

Even when the night changes

It will never change, baby

It will never change me and you

As the song finally comes to an end, Steve turns off the radio awaiting Eddie’s review.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously?” Eddie asks, still in disbelief.

Steve nods his head with a grin. “Night Changes. Teens love One Direction, that’s the band.”

Eddie surprises even himself by playing it back, listening to the lyrics as Steve continues to finger drum and sing.

“They’re pop.” Eddie acknowledges.

“They sure are.”

Eddie catches a glimpse of himself in the side mirror, he turns to look back at Steve who catches his eye with a smile.

“So is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“That even when the night changes, it’ll never change me and you.”

Fin.

Tags! @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @steddiecameraroll @goblinpoet I hope it was worth the wait <3 Sorry for the delay, like Stevie up here ^ I'm 22 and trying to figure out what I'm doing with my life so I spent the past week corresponding with... My college! Yeah, I got accepted into college, baby! I'm so worried I'm gonna fail out.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #steddie angst

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