#you tell her you cant simply do more than ur capable of she says but i have to. and nothing you say changes her mind
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I swear there's gonna be peace and love on this stupid planet once my sister is finally done with her thesis
#my god#she works herself to her absolute limit and beyond and does not listen to ANYONE who tells her simply NOTHING is worth that#i was away while she was writing bit she called me several times during a breakdown / panic attack#and nothing anyone says changes her mind#you tell her you cant simply do more than ur capable of she says but i have to. and nothing you say changes her mind#she handed it in already & has her defense tomorrow. now she's crying about getting stuck and not being able to move forward#and i tell her step back a bit you won't be able to work this way. she goes off at me that she doesnt have time#WHAT EXCATLY DO YOU WANT TO ACCOMPLISH. BITCH BE FUCKING KINDER TO YOURSELF#I KEEP TELLING HER BUT IT DOESNT GET THROUGH. SHE'S BEEN DESTROYING HERSELF MENTALLY & PHYSICALLY#it needs to be tomorrow so everyone has more peace my whole family has been worrying so much for weeks now#nesi rants
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ this is how you fall in love, e. kirishima.
v part one. ❝ VODKA SPRITES.
previously on, TISHYFIL. next on, TISHYFL.
author’s note: this was such a long chapter, hopefully you guys don’t mind this. this is the chapter that makes ur friendship with kiri u know spice up a little. this takes place in the club, so there’s drinking, suggestive comments + etc.
“YOU LOOK NICE,” TODOROKI COMPLIMENTED you as he held the car door open for you, gesturing for you to enter before entering his side. you aren’t sure how the ‘beach day/movie night’ had shifted into a literal club night but - you wouldn’t miss the chance for one last ‘hurrah’ with your high school friends. besides, todoroki did manage to get the VIP section at the infamous downtown club - so did you really have any room to complain?
“who do you think is going to have get helped out of the club tonight?” you asked, turning your attention to your friend as he cants his head in thought.
“it depends, i have my money on sero and tetsu,”
“really? you don’t think kaminari? like, at all?”
“not this time, he’ll be to busy dancing with jirou that he won’t even remember there’s alcohol.”
“huh, i didn’t even think of that. now that the cat’s out of the bag he’s a little bit more..” you trail off, looking for the right words as todoroki finds himself chuckling.
“openly affectionate?”
“yeah. i’m happy for them though. i think they balance each other out,” you added, turning to admire the view of the city, even sticking your hand out to let the wind go through your fingers.
“have you found someone tobalance out with yet?”
“not yet. i mean, i like someone, yes but.. i don’t want to like, ruin our friendship in the process y’know?”
“so you’re going to suffer in silence for all eternity?” todoroki asked and you almost think he’s joking but, his facial expression said otherwise.
“i mean - not for eternity but, for a while yes. i just, like, are my feelings really worth ruining that friendship?”
“you don’t know if it’ll ruin the friendship though.”
“yes i do.”
“no, you really don’t,” he begins, pulling the car into the valet lane as he turns to you with an unreadable expression. “look, if you’ve never listened to anything i’ve ever told you, you need to listen to me now. got it?”
it’s not like he’s really giving you a choice here, so, you simply nod and try your best to muster the best ‘you got it’ smile you possibly could. both tenya and shoto were your best friends and you loved them both but tenya had shoto beat in the advice department by a long shot.
“you’re not a clairvoyant and you’re definitely not a fifteen year old who can’t deal with the fact that her crush doesn’t like her back. so this is what you’re going to do alright? you’re going to go up to him, tell him how you feel and deal with whatever happens after. or you can suffer for the rest of eternity dealing with the immense amount of guilt of not telling your high school crush that you didn’t like him. your choice.”
and with that, he exits the car and hands valet the keys to his sports car and makes his way around it to help you out.
TODOROKI’S ADVICE HAD BEEN STUCK on loop for majority of the night. you had your fair share of alcoholic beverages but, you weren’t as bad as some of your friends (you handed your twenty to todoroki two hours ago with a frown as you saw both tetsu and sero swinging their shirts in the air). you hadn’t spoken to kirishima yet (he’s to busy hyping up his very plastered friends) but you did manage to take a few shots with bakugou and mina. so that left you with, deku, uraraka, shinsou, iida and tsu - the six of you basking in one another’s company.
“i really wanna dance,” you whined, pouting as you eyed the dance floor.
“then go! that’s where everyone else is at anyways.” tsu informs you, following your line as sight as uraraka’s jumping out of her seat.
“do you really want to dance or do you just want to get kirishima’s attention?” shinshou asked, taking a sip of his drink as you rolled your eyes.
“let’s go then [your name], i’ll go with you. come on!”
“see! that’s the spirit!” you squealed, joining your hands with the brunette as the two of you made your way to the dance floor. you were grateful for your bubbly friend, whatever you wanted to do, she was right there behind you - making sure you had a partner in crime alongside you. so there thetwo of you were, hands interlocked and dancing your lives away in the dimly lit nightclub, drinks in the air.
“i hope you don’t mind me stealing [your nickname] for a dance, do you?” the familiar voice asks and you start choking on the drink, hand flying up to cover your lips. you already knew what uraraka’s answer would be, you could practically feel the excitement radiating off of her.
“oh! go ahead! their all yours! bye!” you’re cursing her out, mentally of course. you almost contemplate whether or not to ‘go to the bathroom’ and hide in there forever. not because you aren’t capable of handling your tiny crush on the redhead but because you didn’t need any of your drunk friends seeing the two of you and possibly spilling the beans -
“maybe you are a space cadet.” kirishima teases, eyes roaming your outfit choice.
“rude, eyes up here kiri.”
“i was...” he trails off, cheeks reddening as he scratches the back of his neck nervously. he’s been caught, he knows this but he refuses to admit it. “admiring your exquisite fashion choices.”
“yeah, okay. how are you enjoying the night mister hype man? sero and tetsu don’t need you egging their antics on anymore?”
“ha. it’s going great and you know, i would like to inform you that i’m the best hype man.”
“oh yeah? and how do i, submit an inquiry on how much it’ll cost me to hire said ‘best hype man’?”
“well, for you, it’s free. won’t cost you anything.”
“interesting,” you say through parted lips, canting your head to the side as kirishima mimics you, his own arms around your waist now. “are you sure there isn’t anything i can do to pay you for these services?”
“nope, nothing, nada, zip. for free because you’re—”
“your favorite person in this entire world? yeah i know. now dance with me.” and just like that, your back is against his chest and your swaying to the beat of the new song, in your own little world again as kirishima scrambles to keep up. he can’t - not at first at least (it takes him a few seconds to remember that this is his high school crush dancing with him) and it isn’t until you move his hands to your hips that he realizes the situation the two of you are in.
“if i had known you danced this good i would’ve hyped you up first.” his lips barely brush your ear and your breath hitches in your throat for a moment, this was really happening, wasn’t it? part of you is glad that you guys had a raincheck on the movie night.
“i was busy doing other things.” if ‘other things’ is code for: getting drunk so you didn’t have to remember if you embarrassed yourself than yes, you were doing other things.
“like,” he pauses, debating on whether or not he has it in him to ruin the moment the two you of you are having - if he doesn’t.
“like what?”
“your boyfriend.”
“my— my boyfriend?!” you shouted over the music, turning to face him as he turns his gaze, lips pursed.
“you know, iida.”
in hindsight, you aren’t really sure what made the situation funny enough to double over in laughter. it could’ve been the alcohol or just the fact that you were in disbelief that he thought you were dating your best friend - kirishima on the other hand, doesn’t think it’s funny.
“you think i’m dating iida? oh my god — his brother was my babysitter. he’s my best friend, i couldn’t — god, ew i think i threw up in my mouth a little.”
“oh.”
“i shared a bed with you! if i was dating iida or anyone else i wouldn’t - kirishima, do you really think i’m that kind of person? i’m offended!” you’re not but you might as well milk the situation for shits and giggles, right?
“no! i don’t think you’re that kind of person but i just thought,”
“you thought some very unmanly thoughts.” you teased.
“i know i just—yeah i don’t know what i was thinking.” he’s laughing along with you as you roll your eyes, taking your hand in his. hopefully, he doesn’t realize how sweaty your hands are -
“can we continue dancing now kiri?”
FOUR MORE HOURS PASS AND you’ve lost count on how many vodka sprites you and had drank, the two of you are sitting on the very comfortable couch while majority of your friends were making a very poor attempt on figuring out who was going home with who. kirishima, has an arm on the back of a couch while you are fidgeting with the rings on your finger trying to stay grounded.
“what’s on your mind?” kirishima asked, leaning over as you take in a breath, trying to muster your best ‘not suspicious’ smile you could possibly muster.
“nothing, literally nothing. lights are out and they’ve been out for,” cue you checking your imaginary watch for added dramatic effect, “two hours now.”
“how much have you drank?”
“enough to know that todoroki gives the worst advice.”
“huh, you know, i feel the same way about bakugou.”
“fuck them — we don’t, we don’t need their advice,” you inform the redhead, pointed finger in his direction as he nods furiously in agreement.
“agreed. who needs best friends and their shitty advice anyways?”
“yeah, i mean, who cares if i suffer for eternity you know, as long as i have,” you take in a breath, pointed finger now poking at kirishima’s unbuttoned chest. “—long as i have you. i don’t care if i have to suffer for eternity.”
“why would you have to suffer for eternity?”
“because kiri, if i don’t — if i don’t like you know, tell you, then i’ll have this ‘immense’ guilt for eternity but it doesn’t matter you know? because i can be damned for eternity for all i give a shit. long as i have you kiri —”
to say he’s concerned is an understatement. his hands are placed on your shoulders as he tries to understand the rant you’re going on. “i don’t get it. what is it?”
“ugh, doesn’t matter! doesn’t matter.”
“it does.”
“it doesn’t! i can’t — i can’t jeopardize this on some fantasy i had when i was a teenager!”
“[your name!] what are you talking about!?”
“—if i tell you, you have to promise nothing will change.”
the sudden change in your expression meant that whatever you needed to tell him was something serious so he agrees immediately. “i’m a manly man. i don’t break my promises.”
but you don’t tell him. not at first at least, the sudden realization of the situation you’re in starts bubbling in your chest and it honestly feels like you might throw up (or maybe it’s the alcohol getting to you). so you take in a breath, trying to ignore the fact that kirishima’s thumbs are tracing over your sweaty knuckles - or the fact that he’s leaning in and asking if you’re okay.
“talk to me,” he’s worried - it’s written all over his face and it’s either now or never.
“i think — i think,”
“you think?”
“i really want to tell you but, i don’t want to — i can’t lose you because of my own selfish reasons.”
“hey, hey, you’re not going to lose me okay?” kirishima reassured you, hands now at the sides of your face.
“i like you. i’ve liked you since our firstyear of UA kiri,” your voice is above a whisper now and you’re almost certain that it’s just the two of you in the club -
you can feel his warm breath against your lips, the two of you to busy trying to process what you had just said to recognize how close the two of you were.
kirishima panics, saying the first thing that comes to mind, “your breath smells like vodka sprites.”
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚ ⋆☾
TAG LIST,
@asahisimpnation ♡ @the-fandoms-georgie ♡ @willowtree42095 ♡ @speedmetalqueen ♡ @tryingmyves
#kirishima x you#kirishima x reader#mha smau#bnha drabble#bnha smau#mha drabble#( accidentally deleted the first post.#sorrY YALL JDKDAHKJD )#( eijiro kirishima ) / * series. .#╰ ♡ ✧ ˖ this is how you fall in love ┊ eijiro kirishima .
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dangerous (Steve Harrington x Mayfield!Reader)
Summary: Ever since you were little, people tended to underestimate just how badass you were. You never expected that moving to Hawkins, Indiana would be the thing to convince people that you were more than just a pretty face. Read the sequel. And the final installment.
Request:hello lovely!! first off just wanted to say i love all your stories, they're so well written and just wonderful to read. i was wondering if u would pls be able to write a steve fic and the reader is max's older sister but she's super feminine and always wears really cool outfits that r a bit impractical and steve kind of undermines her because of that but she is actually such a badass and max tries to tell everyone but they dont rly buy it until she idk saves from a demogorgon or?? up to u xxx also ( i just sent u a request about a mayfield!reader) and the idea kind of came to me because i feel like often times badass and strong and independent female characters cant also be feminine and girly you know??? anyway feel free if u want to write it like obvs u dont have to (can u tell i have never requested a fic before lmao) to do whatever i trust u and ur capabilities haha xxxx
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Mayfield!Reader (Friends)
Word Count: 5,005
Author's Note: This one stumped me. I can usually sit down and write in one or two sittings. But I kept coming back and chipping away at this one. Many thanks to @hargroovin for looking over this and making sure it was ready for posting. Hopefully, Sweet Requester, you like it.
Warnings: Language. Some minor violence at the end.
Whenever she was asked about her two daughters, your mother liked to launch into a pair of stories to describe you. At this point, it was almost a performance piece, what with the way she had nailed down the timing and the intonations and the facial expressions she would use at certain points. She had given the monologue so many times that you could clearly visualize it in your head, and pretty soon, you'd be able to take over for her.
She would start with a story about Max.
"Maxine is my youngest. You've probably seen her on her skateboard, zooming around town." (The skateboard was a relatively new addition to the story within the past four years. Before that it was roller skates, and before that she was simply running.)
"She's always been like that–always on the move, can't stay still for more than fifteen seconds. I swear," here your mother would lay a hand over her heart, "she goes by Max because she doesn't want to stick around long enough for the second half of her name." This would be followed by polite laughter and maybe some nodding. "You know, that reminds me of this one story. When Max was about seven and a half months old, she went missing. One morning I came into her room to check in on her since she had usually woken me up by then, and she was gone. I ran back to Jerry and woke him up in a panic, and he said that he had woken up in the middle of the night to check on her but he had put her back in the crib and she was fine. Anyway, we ran out into the hallway calling for her, hoping she would make some sound, and then all of the sudden we heard these little footsteps and I looked up to see Max toddling out of Y/N's room. Seven and a half month's old and she was walking! Independently!" There would be gasps here and some form of "No."
"I swear," your mother would hold up a hand. "She walked straight towards me and threw her little hands up at me to be picked up since I could walk much faster." She would drop her hand and lean back in her seat with a smile. "After that our house constantly looked as if it'd been hit by an earthquake." Your mother and the other person would laugh politely.
"Seems like you've got a little trouble maker on your hands," the person would inevitably say.
"Ohhhh, yes, but Maxine's the least of my problems." Your mother would look at you in your pink dress with white stockings and Mary Janes (or, as you got older, your floral leggings, frilly sweater, and oversized blazer). "Y/N is the dangerous one."
"I'm sure that's not true," the other person would shoot you a smile, pinching a dimpled cheek or tugging on a braid or patting your knee. Then they would cast a dubious look at Max with her mop of wildly curly red hair and consider the fact that she had not been still for a single moment since they entered this conversation with your mother while you sat quietly by her side, legs neatly crossed.
"Don't let her looks deceive you," your mother would shake her head. "Let me tell you about this one time, Y/N was six years old at the time, so that would make Max about two. I had just gotten back from food shopping, and the neighbor who was watching them told me that the girls were playing in Y/N's room and that they had been well behaved and she hadn't heard a peep out of them. Well, of course, it's never a good sign when my girls are quiet, so I beelined straight for Y/N's room. And I found them," at this point she was digging through her purse. Of course, this was for show. The picture was tucked safely away in an inside pocket, and she would produce it with a small, triumphant "Aha!" and hand it to the other person.
In the picture, you and Max were sitting on the floor next to your bed. Next to you, three nail polish containers were pouring out various shades of pink onto the carpet. Your mother's make up bag sat in between you, but it had to have been completely empty as every form of make up, brush, and beauty tool was scattered around the two of you. For your part, you were grinning up at your mother, pink cheeked with bright red lips and what looked like almost a lipstick mustache because of how poorly you applied it. You had smudged heaps of purple eyeshadow onto your eyelids, reaching up to your eyebrows. Pinched between your dark pink and light pink little nails was your mother's mascara wand. Across from you, Max was gaping open mouthed at your mother, her lips a similar bright red, but the entire left side of her face was pink and she had green eyeshadow which was delicately blended in with her fair eyebrows. Except, her right eye had dark black smudges across it from where you tried to apply mascara. In her hair, you had had clipped about a half dozen of your mom's curlers.
Reactions ranged from a simple "Oh my!" and stifled giggle to laughing so hard tears fell from their eyes.
"For the life of me, I don't know how she convinced Max to sit still for that long. Or how either of them the reached my make up bag on top of my dresser," your mother would laugh, taking back the picture and zipping it up into its pockets. "But those are my girls for you."
You may have aged twelve years and moved across the country, but you had to admit, the story was still classic you.
After all, you woke up every day an hour earlier than you had to just so you could do your make up and coax your hair into the perfect side pony. And you needed at least 30 minutes to play around with your wardrobe to make sure you had a unique outfit to wear that day. There were 365 days in a year, and you refused to wear the same exact outfit on any single one of them.
Ok, so at around day 300 you had to start getting creative with what counted as the same and what didn't, but the fact remained that you did not repeat outfits. And it wasn't like you had thirty different shirts or forty pairs of pants. Your wardrobe was reasonable. You just had a knack for pairing things that other people may not have considered and what your mother deemed "a natural talent at accessorizing."
Today for instance, you had tied a neon blue bow into your hair (in addition to your black sequined scrunchy), stacked about thirty five jelly bracelets up your arm, and secured yourself into your clothes with two belts.
You were looking totally glam. You had to be. It was the first day at your new school.
"What the fuck are you wearing?" Billy asked looking over at you from his eggs. You rolled your eyes and flipped him off, lifting your spoon to your mouth.
"Why do you care?" Max glared at him over her cereal.
"It's fine, Max," you murmured.
"I have to be seen with you getting out of my car," Billy's lip curled as he looked over at you again. "You should change."
Max opened up her mouth to say something, but was cut off.
"Who needs to change?" your mother asked, lightly, breezing back into the kitchen from the bathroom.
"Billy was worried about his denim on denim look," you looked up at your mom, shooting a brief, tight lipped, smile. "I told him it's very fashion forward."
"I think you all look great." Your mother bent down and kissed your temple. "Thank you," she whispered in your ear. You just shot another tight lipped smile at Billy.
She moved around the table and kissed Max's head. You guess based on Max's scowl what she whispered—be nice.
Your mother continued around the table and stopped behind Billy, hovering for a second. She patted his shoulder lightly, and Billy's whole body tenses up, his knuckles going white on his grip on his fork. Your mother walked away, but Billy didn't relax. He glared over at you.
"You should probably head out soon," your mother advised. "Don't want to be late to your first day."
Billy shoveled the rest of his eggs into his mouth and then shoved away from the table.
"Your plate, Billy," your mother lightly reminded.
Billy paused, plastering on a smile so fake you wouldn't see it on a Barbie. "Sorry, Susan." His words were a wooden sort of cheery. Billy walked back over, scooping his plate up from the table and dropping it in the sink where it let out a loud clattering sound.
Max muttered something under her breath, and you saved yours, settling for rolling your eyes.
"Thank you, Billy," your mother's voice was at a whisper. Your stomach tightened and your fingernails dug into your hand.
Max looked over at you before standing up and stacking your plate on top of hers, gently placing them both onto Billy's, as the front door banged open, Billy walking out to his car.
"Bye Mom," Max said quietly, following Billy out.
"Bye Mom," you echoed, stopping by her and planting a kiss on her cheek before leaving to go to school.
The first thing you noticed about Hawkins High School was all of the jeans.
The second thing you noticed was all of the sweaters.
At least in California there's been a mix of bad fashion. You'd had the kids who insisted on neon spandex. All. The. Time. And the punk kids. And yeah there were also jeans and t-shirts kids, but at least they had cool slogans.
The kids in Hawkins looked at you, casting derisive and surprised looks. You ignored them, searching the halls for cute boys or a girl who was also familiar with the color pink. Whichever came first.
Your eyes landed on an attractive boy. He was tall and relatively well dressed in the grand scheme of Hawkins. For one thing, he was definitely pulling off the sunglasses indoors thing, and his hair. His hair was killer.
"Hi, excuse me," you asked, pitching your voice even higher than normal. It was the unspoken way of signaling that you meant no harm, wouldn't be asking if you had someone else to ask, but yes, you were open to being friends.
"Uh," the boy looked over at you, giving you a once over. "Hi."
"Do you know where Mr. Roth's class is? I'm new and can't quite figure my way out around the school."
"Yeah, it's down by Kramer," the boy said, gesturing vaguely down the hall. You had a sinking feeling you'd chosen an attractive asshole rather than the chivalrous attractive.
"And Kramer is...." you trailed off, your voice rising a little bit, edging closer to the "Danger Tone" as Max called it.
"Down the hall, second left. It's one of the doors on the right hand side," he sighed. He looked over at you as you blinked. "Get any of that?"
You gave him your signature tight lipped smile and nodded. Watching as he widened his eyes and sucked in a breath, shaking his head as he turned away.
You wished you could tell him exactly what you thought of him in that moment. But instead you stood there gaping as he walked away. You wished Max was here. She'd have the words to match your one finger raised high.
You saw the attractive asshole again at lunch. You had squeaked when the lunch lady scooped sludge on your tray, earning looks from everyone in line. The Asshole was a few people ahead of you in line and at your sound had looked back at you. His eyes met yours and he scoffed, rolling his eyes. In the back of your mind a small plan formed to trip next to his seat and spill your sludge all over. But as you watched him walk away and sit next to the one girl who had bothered to be nice to you today and help you catch up in math, you decided to give him a pass.
"What the fuck happened to my car?" Billy asked staring at his Camaro. On the driver's side door was a long thin scratch.
You looked over at it as you walked around to the passenger side door. "Piss someone off already, Billy?" you asked in a sweet voice. His eyes shot to you, his gaze darkening.
"You fuckin' bitch," he growled.
"Every time she's been near this car, it's been right behind you. Don't you think you would have seen her key your car?" Max asked, opening the back seat door and climbing in. You followed suit, both of you slamming your doors shut at the same time.
Billy weighed this and decided he was attentive enough that he would have noticed. He wasn't because he didn't.
He hadn't said one word to you when you got out of his car that morning, walked around the back under the guise of letting Max out, and then took out your house key and run it along the side of the car. How he hadn't heard was beyond you. The mullet must have muffled it. Oh well.
You had decided you did like Hawkins ok. Not as much as your siblings, though. Max seemed to be taking to it fairly well. At first she practically lived at the arcade, but eventually she made friends and even met up with them to go trick or treating. And Billy. Billy had been dubbed the fucking king at that party. It had taken you close to two hours to find any cute boys willing to dance with you. And you had thought your fairy outfit was appropriately sexy meets the Indiana cold. And while word had gotten around that you were a talented kisser and that you had made your debut kissing the popular Todd Collins, you were finally welcomed into a semi-popular group. After several shopping trips and three sleepovers, you convinced your newfound friends of the fun of nail polish and glory of leggings. They had a road ahead of them, but progress.
The most surprising turn was that you and Billy had a common enemy: Steve Harrington. The attractive asshole. Although it was probably more accurate to say that you and Steve had a common antagonist in Billy. Or maybe the boys had a shared distaste of you. Whatever it was, the three of you didn't like each other and you found yourself occasionally admiring the jabs Steve made at Billy's expense and hearing about how Billy had thrown Steve on his ass.
But while you, Max, and Billy had all made friends, none of you expected to hear the doorbell ring on a Friday after school.
As you were currently shut up in your room painting your nails, and Billy was playing macho-man, lifting weights in the front of the house, You elected to have him answer it.
"Max are you getting that, or what?" Billy shouted out. You should have expected as much. You rolled your eyes taking a deep breath in.
"OK!" Max answered, and you breathed out in relief, thankful for your little sister. You still had three nails left.
The doorbell rang again. Five more times.
"I swear to God, Max!" Billy shouted, and you heard Max storm out of her room, and the doorbell stopped.
You had finished up the last of your nails before Max came back in. You could hear a brief exchange between her and Billy before Max slammed back into her room. You got up from your desk chair, slipping out of your room and knocking on Max's door twice before going in.
"Max!" you gasped, looking at your wide-eyed little sister who was half way in her room and half way out the window.
"Y/N!" Max answered in an equally shocked voice. Her eyes darted over your shoulder. "Close the door!" she hissed.
You hurried into the room, pushing the door shut behind you.
"What—Where—" you stuttered, as Max remained frozen. "Get out of the window!" you finally settled. She acquiesced.
"Max?" A boy's voice drifted up through the open window. Max's eyes grew even wider. She looked as if she's just been caught stealing your mother's car keys.
"Who is that Max?" you asked, lowly. You had a sinking feeling you knew as you crossed to the window.
Lucas Sinclair.
His eyes grew as wide as Max's as he looked up at you.
You turned to Max. "You know I'm a sucker for a good romantic cliche, Max, but are you serious right now?"
"It's not romantic," Max mumbled, her face flushing.
"Look, it's a matter of life or death!" Lucas called up.
"Shhhhh," you hissed. "If Billy hears you, we're all in trouble."
"If it's not romantic, why are you sneaking out your window?"
"He said he has proof that there's some sort of alternate dimension and creepy conspiracy in town," Max looked up at you.
You blanched.
"Max!" Lucas cried out, and you both hushed him.
"Look, you are not sneaking out on your own to hunt down conspiracies about alternate dimensions," you shook your head.
"Y/N," Max started, pleading.
"I'm coming with you," you announced. Max lit up.
"No way," Lucas shook his head. You looked down at him and could see it in the way he looked at your neon pink shirt and thick belt with an admittedly clunky belt buckle. You huffed in a breath.
"Please," Max scoffed. "If you're telling the truth, we need my sister. She's the most bad ass person in this town." You shot a half smile at her and she returned it.
"Fine, just come on. We have to go!" This boy was one antsy little sucker.
"Max, go with him. I'll grab my skates."
It was surprisingly easy to sneak out of the house. All you had to do was walk straight out the door and tell him Dana was here and you were going shopping.
He hardly even looked up to notice you were walking out of the house with your backpack on.
It had been slightly harder to keep up with Lucas Sinclair on your way to the mystery destination because that boy could pedal.
The three of you stopped at the top of a hill, leading to a junk yard. Below you saw a small boy with a red, white, and blue hat and…
"Shit," you swore as Lucas called out to his friends. Max looked up at you, and pulled a face as if you were crazy. "It's the asshole," you muttered to her, as she turned back to look with you at Steve Harrington. You descended down the hill, trailing behind Lucas and Max as you came up to the boys. Hat-boy was looking between Lucas and Max with a mixture of shock and disappointment. It was a look you were all too familiar with, and your heart went out to him.
Even if he was hanging out with the likes of Steve Harrington.
"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, looking at you skeptically. He crossed his arms, and you matched him. You noticed the Hat-boy pulling Lucas away behind a car.
"I'm here to make sure nothing happens to my sister," you bit back.
"What afraid she'll break a nail?" Steve asked with a smug little smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes.
"Please, only time Y/N's ever broken a nail is when she had to climb out of the window to–" You shot a look at Max, cutting her off.
"That's a story I want to hear more of," Steve encouraged.
"What are we doing here?" you ignored him, casting a look around the junkyard. "And what does it have to do with conspiracies and alternate dimensions."
"Apparently there's a cat-eating space lizard on the loose." Steve's hands moved to his hips as if he was some sort of demented super hero. "And it's up to us to stop it."
You snorted. "Yeah, ok. How do we do that?"
"Pile up as much as you can to fortify the bus," Steve jerked his head towards a large old rusted bus. "Once night comes, hopefully that thing will be lured out to the meat pile, we set it on fire from the safety of the bus, and Hawkins is saved. Easy. Well, except for the heavy lifting."
"I think I can manage." You rolled your eyes, pulling off your skates and exchanging them with the sneakers you had stashed in your backpack.
"Not afraid of getting a little dirt under your nails. Maybe messing up your outfit?" Steve poked, smiling.
You glared up at him from where you were tying your shoes. You stood up, stepping closer to him. "What's your fucking problem?"
Max's eyes widened and she backed up, turning to start the work on the bus.
"No problem," Steve shook his head, holding his hands up defensively.
"Than cut the commentary. I dress well. I like pink. I'm a girl, and I really like being a girl, ok?" Your voice was firmly in the Danger Tone.
"Yeah, I noticed. Everyone in Hawkins High notices you prancing around in your little outfits expecting people to go out of their way to help the princess," Steve scoffed, shaking his head. "It's bullshit," he muttered.
"That accusation is bullshit," you shot back, pulling in deep breaths. They were supposed to calm you. They didn't.
"Oh is it?" Steve asked, stepping closer to you. "You pulled that little stunt on me. First time I met you."
"You think I was—" you stopped yourself, shaking your head. "I was trying to make friends, you dickhead!"
"You know what," Steve made made a sweeping motion with his hands. "Let's just stop talking and work in silence."
"Fine," you bit back.
"Good," he nodded.
You stormed away from Steve, going to hunt down things you could use to fortify the bus. You had only made it a few yards, so you could hear Max perfectly clearly when she walked by Steve and paused next to him:
"Don't make her mad," your sister warned. "She gets dangerous."
You smiled to yourself, and finding a thin but solid looking pipe, you picked it up and stashed it on the bus. Just in case.
The five of you crowded onto the bus as the sun fell, Steve insisting he be the last one on to close and block up the door. Quickly thereafter, Lucas had offered to go up to the bus' roof and keep watch, and after a brief exchange with Dustin (that was Hat-boy's name apparently), in which you had almost stepped in to tell the little sucker off, your sister had gone up to join him. Leaving you alone with Steve Harrington who was flicking a lighter open and closed, and Dustin, who was pouting.
A blood curdling howl echoed outside the bus, and you nearly jumped out of your skin, letting out a small squeak.
Steve turned to you, eyebrow raised. "Easy, princess," he said, pushing himself up off the floor and looking out the window. You flicked him off even though both he and Dustin had their noses pressed up against the glass. You walked over to stand next to Dustin, peering out the bus' window.
There was nothing but mist. "This is really creepy," you murmured, and the boys, thankfully, ignored you.
"You see him?"
"No."
You could feel a bitter taste it he back of your throat. The same taste you got in your mouth when your mom sat you down after a particularly bad fight with your dad.
"Lucas, what's going on?" Dustin shouted next to your ear, and you flinched away, shooting him a glare. He probably couldn't see it in the dark.
"Hold on!" Lucas called back down. You waited one second. Two seconds Three– "I've got eyes. 10 o'clock. 10 o'clock!" his voice squeaked.
"There," Steve said, and your eyes followed his gaze.
Out of the mist crept a creature about the size of a dog. And that was where the similarities to any animal you'd ever seen before in your life ended.
It had no face. Just a hole which it inhaled the raw meat into.
The skin was odd, and it seemed more like it should be a frog's skin than a dog's even though it was clearly muscular.
"Eww," you murmured, unable to take your eyes off of it. Steve and Dustin snorted at you.
"What's he doing?" Dustin wondered.
"I don't know," Steve answered. Suddenly you wanted Max right by your side.
"He's not taking the bait. Why's he not taking the bait?" Steve's voice was frustratingly calm, even when his words weren't.
"Maybe he's not hungry," Dustin posed.
"Maybe the menu's not to his tastes," you joked. And then a thought hit you. Maybe the menu wasn't to his tastes. He ate cat. He ate cow. Maybe he was looking for something less hairy. Less tough. A little prettier. You bent over and picked up Steve's nail ridden bat.
"Woah, woah, woah, what do you think you're doing?" Steve asked, turning and grabbing your wrist.
"I'm expanding the menu," you replied, flippantly, attempting to yank your wrist back, but Steve's grip was too strong.
"Yeah, I don't think so. You'll get hurt," Steve pulled the bat from your grasp and released you.
"And what? You won't? Pretty sure neither of us are particularly prepared to go up against some gross space dog."
"It's not a space dog, it's interdimensional," Dustin corrected. Another howl echoed out and Steve looked out of the bus at the dog.
"You're staying here," Steve ordered, "Just, get ready." He tossed the lighter to you and left the bus.
Asshole.
"What's he doing?" Max asked, joining you and Dustin by the window. You wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Expanding the menu," Dustin murmured, stealing your joke. You shot another glare at him, and this time he had the decency to duck his head.
"Steve! Watch out!" Lucas' voice called from the top of the bus. You heard Steve call back a reply when a movement caught your eye, and your breath caught in your throat.
"3 o'clock! 3 o'clock!" Lucas squeaked out and you noticed as more interdimensional dogs crept closer to Steve. And then one lunged, and you gasped out, pulling away from the window as Steve swung his bat and flung himself over the hood of an old car. Dustin ran to the bus' door, pushing past you and screaming for Steve
"Abort! Abort! Steve, hurry!"
Steve was running back towards the bus and those things were hot on his tail, and even though he was an asshole, you couldn't help but scream for him to "RUN FASTER DICKHEAD!" Steve scrambled back onto the bus, pulling the doors closed, and then you heard glass shattering and you were screaming and Max was screaming. Lucas had climbed back down. You don't remember when that happened, but the three kids huddled by the ladder and away from the door. Good. Something hit the back of the bus, and a mouth snapped in. You pushed the kids out of your way, picking the pipe up from under the seat, and swung it, a nasty crack emitting from where you whacked the thing on the head. It pulled back.
The bus shook and then slowly, heavy footprints echoed down from the roof of the bus. You looked up and saw Max standing their wide-eyed looking up at the gaping hole in your fortifications. You flung yourself forward, scrambling up the ladder, pipe in hand.
"Y/N, no!" Max cried, but Lucas pulled her back, and Steve had just turned his head when you were already halfway up. The dog like creature hovered over you, opening its mouth, and a totally inappropriate thought entered your mind— aside from all of the teeth it looked a little bit like a flower.
"Y/N!" Steve called out to you, but you had already thrust your hand and pipe forward into its mouth and up, and the creature let out a screech as you pulled the pipe back, the end now wet. You shoved it forward again at the creature which was somehow still moving and then another howl echoed out and it turned its head, your pipe knocking into it and shoving the creature back a few steps. It scampered off and you remained, one hand gripping tight to the other and the other still holding the pipe high.
"Holy shit," Dustin swore, looking up at you.
"You took a few shaky steps down the ladder and turned to face the group, lowering the pipe.
"When the hell did you pick up a pipe?" Steve was looking at you wide-eyed, and you shook your head, brushing some hair that had fallen out of your ponytail back behind your ear.
You pushed over to the window and the group parted, letting you go. "We should follow them," you said. "Who knows what'll happen if they're heading into town." There was a general murmuring of assent as the group of you hurried off of the bus. Steve moved to the front of the kids, and you joined him, walking side by side: him walking with his bat sticking out of his backpack, and you with your pipe sticking out of yours.
He looked over to you as you passed the pile of uneaten meat.
"You're kind of a badass, aren't you?" Steve asked, quietly. You smiled at the slight awe in his voice and shrugged a shoulder.
"I told you," Max crossed her arms, smirking. "She's dangerous."
Read the Sequel
Tags: @lemonchapstick @loserrlauraa @pity-mee @imboredsueme @bands-and-shietz @panda0192 @daryldamnson @madhatterweasley @scintillllating @loveforbrains @harringtonhuddle @siriusaccio @my-simple-musicalfan @loverskisses @adumbledorableee @hawkinsbabe @creamcheese783 @oomylifeiseternalsufferingoo @spacedoutsher @katethemandrake @disneykidafi @coolyoungbouquetdestinylove @myteenwolf-world @stay-wokke @eggshapeddank @lola-winston-harrington dontneedbiologytoadopt @upsidedownstevie @morgandakotaq
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x mayfield!reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#mayfield!reader#stranger things illustration#stranger things request#stranger things 2#stranger things#request#max mayfield#dangerous
896 notes
·
View notes
Text
[ chaosknife ]
“ BREAKING ME OUT, WHAT A BOLD USE OF WORDS, MY QUEEN ! IT IS AS IF YOU STILL DO NOT UNDERSTAND MY PLIGHT ! WHILE I AM FREE, IT IS OH SO LONELY HERE. I SIMPLY WISH TO HAVE FUN, FUN, AND ENTERTAIN YOU !!! BUT HOW CAN I DO SO HERE, WHEN ALL DARKNERS ARE TRAPPED OUT OF SIGHT ? ”
it was a plea surrounded by the cheery tones of his voice. despite being trapped, his energy was naught but the same as the day he was locked away into his little freedom, bouncing in the spot and giggling to himself periodically between sentences.
then, a simple suggestion. it doesn’t seem like jevil gives it much thought – or maybe, he’s thought about it plenty before. either way, the response comes quick, easy.
“ HOW GENEROUS OF YOU, TO THINK OF SUBJECTS AND THOSE OUTSIDE ALIKE. BUT TELL ME, MY WONDEROUS AND BENEVOLENT RULER, HOW DO YOU PLAN ON FREEING OTHERS IF YOU ARE NOT FREE YOURSELF ? YOU GIVE AND GIVE, HOW ABOUT YOU TAKE AND TAKE ? ”
her court jester had a very fine point to make , at least in the aspect of her never giving HERSELF a moment of reprieve , to be selfish if only for an hour . queen seems to frustrate &&. mediate on this , giving what should’ve been a simple answer more than enough thought .
❛ - ur right , ik that ur right , but yet here i am ? i dont think im capable of just outright saying ‘ yk what f this im going home n having a dry martini ’ . i just , i cant jev . i rly cant . - ❜ either she can’t or she won’t , queen decidedly moves onto the topic from beforehand .
❛ - free ? u mean like , how i almost freed every1 bc i nearly followed the knights orders ? thru the roaring ? not asking rhetorically im slash srs idk what u mean here . - ❜
6 notes
·
View notes