#you’re the peanut butter to my jelly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whoreforgyu · 2 months ago

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pb&j

MDNI 18+

✌︎ pairing; neighbor!kim mingyu x fem!reader

✍︎ genre; smut, neighbors to lovers, au, fluff

ⓘ tldr; after finally mustering up the courage to ask your fine ass neighbor for help opening a jar of raspberry jelly, he makes sure to fill yours up with some cream by the end of the night 😏

⚠︎ warnings; under 21 drinking (20yrs but turning 21 in a few days (& dw even though i am 19 i don’t drink personally, this is just for the fic 😭)), mingyu has a slight thing for older girls, mingyu is a sophomore and reader is a junior in college, mentions of ‘95 liners, awkward reader, mentions of food, lowercase intentional

✎ note; i’m a new writer so this is my first fic let me know how i did 🫣 got the idea to write this after i spent all night trying to open up this jar of coconut oil from trader joe’s lol 😭

⇅wc; 2.4k

after what felt like an eternity of twisting, turning, and damn near college level research on how to open a glass jar, what are the odds that not a single thing has worked.

“run it under some hot water” they said.

“tap the lid with a heavy object to break the seal” they said.

“slap the bottom with the palm of your hand” they said.

but despite the hundreds of google searches and youtube videos you’ve watched, the tin lid to your jar of organic raspberry jelly hasn’t budged an inch.

“ugh!” you screeched, nearly throwing the damn thing at the wall. but you would much rather go to bed hungry than have to clean up fruit preserves mixed with shards of glass from the ground, or even worse, eat a dry peanut butter sandwich without jelly.

now, was there a quick an easy solution that you have thought of, but didn’t dare to act upon? well, yes! but that would require having to interact with your fine ass, johnny bravo-esque, tank of a neighbor— mingyu. at first, that option was off the table, but soon hunger got the best of you.

so here you are, standing in front of apartment 406 in some skimpy boy shorts that expose wayyy to much ass and a sweater, holding the infamous jar of raspberry jelly.

*knock, knock, knock*

the apartment goes silent, you feel nervous as the sound of foot steps walk up to the door, pause, and a zipper opens moments before hearing the lock turn. your cheeks heat up at the sight of him in a tank top with grey sweats. trying to stop yourself from ogling at his biceps, triceps, and quadriceps on full display, and you peep how his matching grey hoodie is coincidentally hanging from the coat rack.

the smell of sweet and savory spices bless your nose, if there’s one thing about mingyu, that man could cook. sometimes he’ll hand deliver you a bowl of whatever food he’s making, under the pretense of, “i made extra,” as opposed to “i was thinking about you, so i made a larger portion just to share with you.” and you swear he’s ruined your whole perception of food, you can’t help but think about how much better everything would taste if mingyu was the one who made it instead.

“oh hey _____, is everything alright?” he asked, looking up and down your figure, taking notice of the jar of jelly in your hand.

“yup!” you say awkwardly, accidentally look down at his man-cleavage “i just wanted to know if you could open this for me please?” an innocent grin plays on your lips as you shove the jar towards him, trying to ignore the way he was staring at them.

he laughs while gripping the jar and lid, twisting them in opposite directions before hearing a-

*pop*

“there ya go,” he says, handing back the jar. you sigh of relief before thanking him and turning to walk back to into your apartment, all while feeling a pair of eyes burning into your ass.

“y’know,” he blurts out. stopping you in your tracks, turning around to listen to him. mingyu couldn’t help but trip over his words at the sight of your doe eyes looking expectantly at him. “i’m making dinner right now, n’ i was just about to bring some over to you,” the tips of his ears now turning red, “but- i mean, since you’re already here, would you mind joining me?”

“yes!- i mean no- like no as in i wouldn’t mind,” shit, you think to yourself, what the fuck am i saying?

“okay perfect” mingyu says trying to hold back his smile (you know that cute 😗 face he makes), letting you into his apartment, allowing himself a closer look at your ass.

to no surprise, his apartment layout was an exact copy of yours, only furnished to his liking, of course. a dark stained wooden coffee table accompanied by a matching tv console, upholding a flatscreen tv and ps5, and a dark blue ribbed suede couch. hm, interesting.

“almost done, just need to finish sautéing these veggies,” he says now facing the stovetop, and you take the opportunity to get a real good look at his back muscles. you’re so glad you got front row seats to see them, since the view through the peephole of your door every time he came back from the gym wasn’t cutting it.

“could you help set up the table?” mingyu turns off the stove and grabs some plates and glasses from the cabinet above, breaking you out of your trance.

“yea, of course” you squeak, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way you were drooling over him just then. you set down the jar of jelly you, for some reason, still had in your hands on to the counter, and grabbed the placemats, utensils, and glasses from the drawers mingyu directed you to. he brings over the dishes and sets them onto the table before going back to grab a bottle of wine.

“you drink?” he asked raising a brow.

“not really, but i don’t mind having a glass,”

“how old are you?” he questioned.

“twenty one, how ‘bout you?” you wary.

“twenty.” he replied. there’s a brief moment of silence between you two before he’s sporting a stupid grin, like he knows he’s doing something he’s not supposed to, waiting to see your reaction.

“so where the hell did you get that from?” you pressed, raising your voice, baffled by his audacity to ask for your credentials when he, himself, isn’t even qualified.

“a frienddd~” his tone playful as he laughs. “relax, i consider this my early birthday gift, i’ll be twenty one on the sixth of this month.”

you think it must be from one of of his older friends, specifically seungcheol or jeonghan, those dudes from your engineering class who come by often, not that you’re keeping count. you sigh, you can’t blame him. you’ve had your own fair share of alcohol during your birthday party that you celebrated the weekend before your twenty first, especially since you could not afford to get lit on the wednesday night before your exam.

“fine,” you gave a tight lipped smile as mingyu pours you both a glass, starting to loosen up as alcohol soon calms your nerves.

“wanna watch that new ‘baby reindeer’ series, i heard it’s crazy as shit!” mingyu laughs, as you two are finishing dinner.

“ yeah i’ve been meaning to start! just haven’t gotten around to it,” you finish up the rest of the bottle, while mingyu takes the dishes to load them up into the dishwasher. you grab the remote turning on the television, and plop down on the couch, briefly pausing to remind yourself that this isn’t your place, but he sure does make you feel like it.

after drying off his hands mingyu plopped himself right beside you, leaving only about an inch or two in between, and smoothly snakes his arm around you, being careful not to make contact though. you laugh to yourself at how respectful he’s trying to be, and wonder if he’s truly oblivious to the not so respectful feelings you have towards him.

half way through the first episode, you can’t help but feel warm, almost hot due to his body heat. his scent isn’t helping either, he smells like fresh clean laundry and natural musk. you want to study his face now that you’re up close, but it’d be too obvious, he’d notice right? wrong, frankly, his ass is not paying attention to you, so you take initiative and scoot closer into his touch, resting your head onto his shoulder, smirking at the sudden tension of his body.

“you alright?” mingyu speaks lowly into your hair, subconsciously helping himself to your scent. turning down the volume on the tv, he tilts his head to hold your gaze, dammit, there she goes again with those eyes, he curses. swiftly glancing at your lips, and back up to your eyes, it’s like he can read your mind. cautiously, lowering his hand to your ass, he helps you onto his lap. “whatchu tryna get into?” mingyu teases.

“i dunno know you tell me, you’re the one who’s got me on their lap” you tease back giggling while biting your lip.

mingyu uses his teeth to now bite your lip between his before kissing you deeply. he couldn’t wait for the day he could he could get his lips on your pretty plump ones. not a day goes by where he doesn’t think about getting the chance to mess with his pretty ass little neighbor.

whimpering at the sensation of his sunken fangs into your lip, you quickly match his energy, grinding your dampening cunt against his growing erection. his hands now gripping your ass like a vice, increasing the relentless speed and friction between you two. hand nearly getting crushed in the process, you reach between your bodies to free his now rock hard cock from his sweats, beginning to stroke him while slowing down to a more sensual pace. he breaks the kiss, letting out a loud whine as you spread the bead of precum, focusing right on the tip, and dip the pad of your thumb right into the dimple before rubbing circles around it.

mingyu’s body shudders as he throws his head back in ecstasy, blabbering a whole bunch of nonsense, while you lick and bite the sensitive skin from his collarbone all the way to his jaw. continuing to stroke his aching cock, “ah! ouu~ shit- baaabe- baby oh! fuuuuck~ m’ boutta-” are the only coherent words he’s able to slew before you cease all movement. his head shoots up, wide eyed as he looks at you as if your head’s missing.

you give him a sweet— almost taunting, smile before reaching under his tank to reveal his sculpted torso, chest rising and falling as you scrape your nails against every nook and cranny of his flesh. you lean forward to give a few licks and and sucks to each of his nipples. mind you, the man is still staring at you in disbelief. giving a sinister laugh, he holds you by your hips and and in one swift movement, shifts his body under you, so instead of sitting on his lap, you’re now sitting on his face.

mingyu wastes no time lapping at the mere outline of your pussy, desperately sucking your arousal through the fabric of your shorts. like a rabid dog he rips through the fabric with his teeth, lips immediately latching onto your clit like a vacuum. you let out a loud cry desperately grabbing fistfuls of his hair as a poor attempt to ground yourself before he’s gripping your waist, gliding your cunt alllll over his face.

“gy-gyuuu~” you whine, your legs starting to shake as you the feel pressure building up in your core. your thighs now locked tight around his head, you’re scared you may suffocate him but you’re far to worried about reaching your own orgasm to stop. “mmmph~ shiiit pleaseee~ oh my- no gyu! piece of shit!” you scream, as mingyu removes himself from under you, a shit eating grin playing on his lips, his face covered in your juices.

you squeal as mingyu rips off any and every remnant of clothing you still had on, and throws you over his shoulder— face down ass up, giving it a quick harsh slap before heading into his bedroom. throwing you down on the bed, he immediately attaches his lips to yours as he slips his thick middle and ring fingers inside of you, curling them just enough to make you cum better than any one of your pathetic toys ever could. if he could give you mind blowing orgasms just with his fingers, just imagine what universe he’d take you to on his cock.

mingyu teases your entrance with his fat tip, gliding it along your wet folds. his cock was looong, thick, and heavy, a vein running along the left side of the shaft. it felt like steel wrapped in velvet. he begins pushing his way into you, nothing could prepare you for the stretch he gave, he felt invasive, greedy, selfish. invading any space he could find inside your small tight cunt.

“just hold on to me baby,” he growls in you ear, his breathing ragged as he bottoms out, pelvis right against your ass. the man desperately trying to help himself from releasing right then and there at the feeling of your wet pudgy walls sucking him in, as if your body was trying to create a mold of his cock to remember forever.

your legs wrap tight around his torso, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he’s rutting into you like a dog in heat. he desperately pants, holding another vice-like grip onto your hips, the combination of your pornographic moans and walls beginning to clench and spasm around him making his cock twitch inside you like a bolt of lightning.

not even science can measure the amount of pent up tension that has built up in your core, the feeling painfully delicious. the sharp thrusts of his cock soon becoming sloppy as you feel him starting to shudder once again, his mouth now on your neck, sucking harshly at the flesh. he brings his hand down to your cunt, beginning to rub messy circles onto your clit making you cry out, sending you over the edge.

the knot in your abdomen comes un done, feeling like an explosion as mingyu shoots what felt like the entirety of earth’s population into your poor pussy. your body goes numb, your vision, seemingly no different than looking out of a kaleidoscope, seeing shapes and colors you didn’t even know existed.

mingyu lays on top of you, cock still sunken deep inside as if he’s trying to fertilize each one of your millions of eggs, his heavy breathing sinking you into the mattress even deeper than you were before. looking up he sees your fucked out state, locking eyes with you before giving you the filthiest smile you’ve ever seen.

you smile back, matching his same filth, before pulling him into another heated make out session. “ready for round two?”

#seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt #svt x reader #svt imagines #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x y/n #seventeen x y/n #seventeen imagines #seventeen au #mingyu au

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erwinsvow · 1 year ago

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𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

summary: hiding your relationship with rafe from your friends is fun... at first.

word count: 2k

now spinning: freak by lana del rey

author's note: this one put me in a silly mood <3 i love this man <3 so cute it'll rot your teeth! enjoy!

He’s a bad habit. Your worst habit, in fact, one that you hide from everyone like a dirty secret.

At first you’re just embarrassed. You’re supposed to be a Pogue, you try to remind yourself every now and then, you’re supposed to hate him and everything he stands for.

You’re supposed to hate the pretty jewelry he buys for you on a whim, hate the stupid—or something like that— look in his eyes when he puts it on you and presses a kiss to the soft skin of your neck or wrist or ankle, and you’re especially supposed to hate the way he spends money on you.

You’re supposed to hate all of it, but you don’t. In fact, you think you’re falling in love with Rafe Cameron.

Which is bad, so so bad, you don’t even have words to describe how terrible it is. Rafe—who your closest friends despise, and for good reason. He becomes an ass outside of the sheltered, private walls of your tiny bedroom, getting into fights and egging everyone into violence.

He’s completely different, like an entirely new person, and you should hate him for what he does to your friends and goads them into doing.

Hate is the furthest thing from what you actually feel. You’re not even embarrassed anymore. You’re protective, because you know your friends won’t understand, that they’ll try to talk you out of your feelings, and you’ll have to show them the thing that you’re dreading the most of all, that you would defend Rafe to them. That you would take his side.

That you would become that girl you used to make fun of, screaming at your friends because you don’t know him like I do, and then running home, running to him, to feel better.

It’s gotten bad, and to avoid all of this, you don’t bring up your relationship to them at all. What started off as chance encounters and graduated into quiet, peaceful hours spent in each company without another care in the world, has now turned into a real relationship. A secret relationship, at that.

Rafe wants to tell the world, and he especially wants to tell your friends. You convince him that it’s romantic to sneak around, with plenty of hidden kisses and longing gazes and making a fool out of everyone right in front of their eyes.

He buys the act for now, but you know he won’t for long. You think that he wants to rub it into your friends’ faces, that he got you despite how much they hate him. He doesn’t tell you it’s because he has to know, has to be sure that you aren’t ashamed of being with him.

𝜗𝜚

The first time you almost get caught is in Rafe’s truck—parked along the beach, in what was meant to be a cute little date. You pack sandwiches and fruit, freshly squeezed lemonade in a mason jar that you and him pass back and forth.

The two of you watch the sunset from the safety of his car, specifically because you’re worried your friends will catch you if they spot you on the beach with someone.

“This is good,” Rafe says, taking another sip out of the jar, his lips shining with the sugary juice. You want to lick it clean, but you hold off for now. “Where’d you get it from, again?”

“I made it, Rafe,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “We have a lemon tree in the backyard. My parents like to grow their own stuff.”

“Well,” he says, licking his lips. Damn it, there goes your chance to sneak a kiss in and act like it was for some other reason. “You should make more. Shit’s good.”

“Then take me on another date. I’ll make you a whole pitcher.”

“Our next date is gonna be way better than this,” is his response, looking down at his half-eaten, heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

He notices your eyes get big, like you’re upset, and immediately follows up his own sentence.

“Not that this isn’t perfect,” he says, resting the mason jar in the cupholder. “It is. Perfect. Couldn’t ask for more. I just meant, next time, you won’t have to pack anything or juice any lemons, like a restaurant. All you have to do is wear something pretty and show up.”

You smile, giddily.

“You have some lemonade, right there,” you say, pointing to the side of his lip, leaning in for a kiss, just about to close your eyes, when you hear the unmistakable hoot that is your boys, as in your other boys. “Shit-” and you duck, head resting on Rafe’s thigh as you try to get out of their eye-sight. You don’t sit back up until you make Rafe triple-check the coast is clear.

“Y’know, if you wanted to get freaky in my car, all you had to do was ask-”

𝜗𝜚

The next time is a month later, a month of bliss and joy that you still haven’t told your friends about. Rafe came over to help you finish baking lemon squares, but really just creating a mess and kissing you with sugary, citrusy lips and flour-coated hands.

You take turns showering to clean off, because as much as you would love to rinse off together, your shower is not like the one Rafe has in his Tannyhill bedroom, and sadly, barely big enough for one. You go first, washing your hair and complaining about icing remnants, and send Rafe in after you while you dry your hair.

On his way in, he tells you not to get dressed just yet. You sit in anticipation, wrapped just in your towel, brushing your hair absentmindedly. You drop the brush on your foot when you hear three sharp knocks on your bedroom window.

Crap.

When you turn to look, it’s just Kie, and you sigh a breath of obvious relief. You wouldn’t be able to manage lying to everyone, but if it’s just Kiara, you might be able to get away with it.

She climbs in through the window, lying flat on your bed and starting to explain what’s going on—her feelings for Pope and some old feelings for Jayj that are coming to the surface. You half-listen, feeling like a terrible friend, but your heart is currently showering in your tiny bathroom, probably complaining about the luke-warm water and thinking about all the things he’s going to do to you when he gets out.

“Is your shower running?” Kie asks, ever-observant. “Dude, that’s like, so bad for the environment.”

“Oh, I-” your brain turns to mush. “I just stepped out to brush my hair, I’m going right back in. I’m so sorry Kie, I’m so distracted today. You know, I-I hate wasting water.” You stare at her for a second, wondering if she bought it.

“I’m just glad you care. JJ and John B don’t even recycle their beer cans. I’ll come back later, then?” and you nod, maybe a little too excited. “Are you gonna finish showering now?” she questions, watching you linger by the door.

“Yes! Yes, I am. Bye, Kie,” you say, opening the door and closing it quickly, hoping Rafe doesn’t speak up. You drop the towel and climb into the shower, clasping your hand over his mouth quickly. You wait to hear your window close, and then the noise of her car driving away.

“Y’know, kid, if you were feeling that impatient, all y’had to do was tell me,” Rafe says, leaning in for a hot, wet kiss.

𝜗𝜚

It all breaks down because JJ is like a walking metal detector, eyes flitting to anything shiny and new and the questions never-ending, even when you’re glaring at him.

Rafe bought it for you. A gleaming, pretty silver bracelet with a little pink heart hanging off, complete with the letter R engraved on the back of the charm. You try to sneak it in with your other bracelets, the beaded ones Kie makes, the thread friendship bracelets all of you share in matching colors, and you even throw on a watch just so no one notices something new on your wrist. It doesn’t work.

“Wow,” JJ starts, letting out a whistle. You freeze instantly. “What’d you do, rob a Kook and not invite us?” He comes up closer, taking your wrist in his hand and raising it above and below, inspecting it.

“No, no…” you trail off, mind going completely blank on how to explain this to your friends. All you can think about is the soft way Rafe kissed your wrist while helping you put it on, and the not-so-soft two hours you spent at Tannyhill after. “I, uh-”

“What, you found it?” Pope throws in, and you start to nod, even though your friends know you better than that. “Because you should really turn it in, I mean, they’ll get you for that-”

“Trust me, I would know,” John B says, coming around to look at it closer. “I feel I’ve seen that before.”

“Yeah, I bet all the Kook princesses have ‘em and compare with each other.” JJ puts on a goofy, high pitched voice that would normally make you laugh. “Mine’s silver. Mine’s gold. Actually, guys, mine’s encrusted with diamonds.”

“You know how much child labor funds the entire jewelry industry? They have kids mining in caves-”

“But that would actually make sense, Kie, because, like, they’re so tiny they’re the only ones who can just like, sneak on in there with their little tools, and just like-” JJ imitates, what you can only assume, is a child mining for gold with his hands.

“They can grow diamonds in labs now. It’s so unnecessary and dangerous,” Kie says, looking back at you. “We should burn it, so it goes back into the soil.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” JJ says, getting up and putting himself between you and Kie, like a barrier. “Why would we do that? We could probably go get a couple hundos for that thing. Y’know how much beer we can buy with that?”

“He’s got a point there,” John agrees. You’re speechless.

“Well, does it have any markings? Because if we just return it, the owner might give us a reward for finding it.” JJ scoffs.

“Yeah, right, they’d probably think we stole it.”

“Well, we did, that’s like the definition of-” you cut Pope off before you can stop yourself.

“I didn’t steal it!” It comes out like a yell, even though you don’t mean it, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I didn’t steal it, okay, it’s mine, so can we please just drop it?”

You notice the boys lock eyes with each other, eyes wide, probably wondering what just happened. You turn away from them to look at Kie, about to apologize because you know she’s totally right about the whole child mining thing, when you see her eyes are fixed on your wrist.

“R?” she questions. “What’s the R stand for?”

You drop your hand to your side, eyes shutting on their own as you release a tight breath. You really have no idea how to get yourself out of this one, until a voice pipes up from behind you.

“Why don’t you idiots take a wild guess?” The voice belongs to your boyfriend, your secret boyfriend. You guess it’s not such a secret anymore.

JJ is the first to react, exactly like you thought he would, too.

“No, no, gross, gross!”

John B stares at you like you’ve just run over his puppy. Kie has her eyebrows raised like she’s questioning everything she ever knew about you. Pope’s eyes are wide like coins, fist clenched like he’s about to start swinging.

You let out another breath.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask, turning your head to question Rafe, standing right behind you, his arm hanging around your shoulder now.

“Had to tell ‘em eventually, kid. Guess today’s the day,” and then he uses his hand to squeeze your cheeks together, giving you a sloppy kiss and waltzing off in the direction he came from.All you hear is JJ—gross, gross, gross!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #eeeee hope everyone likes!!!

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togrowoldinv · 1 year ago

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Meeting the Team

Carol Danvers x Female Reader

Carol brings Monica and Kamala home to take refuge for an evening and to meet her wife. Fluff ensues

Note: I was just thinking about Carol having a secret wife and the lovely Monica and Kamala meeting her. Enjoy this one!

Carol Danvers Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’re stirred from your sleep when you hear the sound of a ship landing near your house. You hope it’s Carol’s.

When you hear the sound of the front door unlocking, you roll out of bed and walk to greet her in the front room.

She’s in her suit but it looks a little worse for wear. Carol catches sight of you and the weight falls off her shoulders.

“Hey sweetheart,” Carol says softly, a smirk rests on her face.

You cross the room quickly and pull her into a hug. She flinches due to her own soreness but keeps hugging you anyways.

“Are you okay?” You ask her, grabbing her face in your hands.

“I’m okay,” she says.

Her eyes are determined. You realize she’s here just for a short time to regroup or gather some information.

“I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you,” Carol replies.

You lean in to kiss her but you stop short when you see two women, or rather one woman and one teenage girl, walk in the door behind her.

“Carol?” You alert her to the presence.

“It’s okay,” Carol says. “We’re- well I guess we’re a team.”

“We are so a team,” the teenage girl says.

Carol tries to hold back a smile but you see it on her face that she likes these teammates. She turns around and holds you by the waist.

“Y/n, this is Kamala and Monica,” Carol says.

“Wait, the Monica?” You ask. The woman’s eyes flash to Carol’s at your words.

“Yeah,” Carol says. “Our powers are entangled.”

“Right, okay. It’s nice to meet you both, come on in and make yourself comfortable,” you say.

They move to sit on the couch. Carol goes to the bathroom to freshen up first.

“What was your name again?” Monica asks you.

“Y/n,” you supply. “I’m Carol’s wife.”

“Oh my god,” Kamala says, mostly to herself.

“What?” You ask.

“Oh, she’s just a fan girl,” Monica explains. “She’ll be writing fanfiction later about Carol having a secret wife.”

You chuckle at the girl’s antics. You can’t blame her for loving Carol enough to want to create new versions of her.

“Carol and I got married a few years ago,” you say. “But we really haven’t been able to spend much time together. Planets need saving and all that.”

“Sounds familiar,” Monica says.

Carol enters the room and sits down next to you with a sigh. You want to ask more about her reuniting with Monica but that’s for another time when it’s just the two of you.

“Do you have powers?” Kamala asks. You realize this girl has a talent for breaking awkward silences.

“I do not,” you say. “Although, wrangling this one in should be considered a power.”

“Wow,” Carol says. “I’m offended.”

“Don’t be, baby,” you say. You kiss her cheek and she tries to hide her blush. “It’s a privilege to love you. Even when you run off to space for months at a time.”

“You could go with me if you want,” Carol shrugs.

“Nope. That’s your world up there. Not mine,” you reply. Carol only smiles. “Are you guys hungry?”

“Starving,” Kamala answers. “I mean no, we’re good.”

“Come with me,” you tell her.

You lead the girl into the kitchen and let her take her pick of food to eat. She settles on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Kamala asks you a few questions about Carol and your relationship. She seems genuinely excited with every answer she receives.

Monica and Carol are in the living room still. You don’t hear much talking, so you make Carol a sandwich and go get her.

“Babe, I made you a sandwich,” you say. “Please eat at least half. I know you haven’t been remembering to eat a lot.”

“I’m fine,” Carol says. “I get enough.”

“Go.” You leave no room for argument. She sighs and goes to the kitchen. That leaves you alone with Monica.

The woman is sitting on the couch. You know from her vantage point that she can see the framed photo of Maria that Carol keeps on the shelf.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” you say, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, thanks,” she replies.

“You know I think Carol has some more pictures around here somewhere,” you say. “Maybe next time you come by we can look for them.”

“Yeah,” Monica says noncommittally.

“Do you need anything? A drink, food, medicine?” You ask.

“Thank you. I’m okay,” Monica says.

“Are you sure? I can tell Carol is sore so I can imagine you all are,” you say.

“You can tell that about her just from looking at her?”

“From the hug. She flinched,” you explain. “She never admits she’s hurting, but I know she is. Although, I do see a part of her healing. Probably from reuniting with you. She seems happier.”

Monica nods. She knows that this has meant a lot to Carol. It means a lot to her too, but right now she’s still a bit hardened to the idea of being in her presence again.

Carol and Kamala come back into the room before you can say anything else. You help show them where to sleep and then end up back your bedroom with Carol.

She changes into some pajamas and snuggles into bed next to you. You rest your head against her shoulder.

“How long?” You ask her.

“Just until morning,” Carol replies. “I need to fix a part of my ship. And I wanted to see you.”

“How are you doing with this whole Monica thing?”

Carol takes a deep breath. She hasn’t really had time to stop and think about it.

“I’m okay I think,” she says. “I’m good. It’s amazing how she’s grown up to be so wonderful.”

“Yeah? She has powers, that’s insane.”

“I know,” Carol says. “I didn’t know that until I saw her with Fury. She’s really a great person too. I definitely couldn’t keep Kamala as safe without her.”

“What’s the deal with Kamala? She’s a kid who loves you?” You ask, a chuckle escaping from your lips.

“Apparently,” Carol sighs. “But I really don’t feel like I’m a good role model for her. Maybe she’s seeing that in the choices I’ve already had to make in front of her.”

“Hey, you always do your best. Sacrifices are necessary. You know that, baby,” you try to encourage her. “The way that girl looks at you definitely makes me know that she looks up to you.”

Carol kisses your head and rubs a hand over your back. It’s slightly warmer than normal, meaning she’s using her powers to help you relax.

“We need some sleep,” Carol says.

“We do,” you reply. “Hey, don’t let me forget to tell Kamala in the morning about how we met.”

“Oh god, she’s going to write a story about it,” Carol says. “Whatever fanfiction is.”

“It’s fantastic,” you reply.

“You know what it is?”

“Of course, babe.”

“And you’ve read it?” She asks. You nod. “About me?”

“No,” you laugh out. “I don’t need to when I have you already, my love. Although, I do need some new content.”

Carol grins mischievously. She’s sent you countless videos, pictures, and voice memos over the years. But it has been a while since she has done that for you.

“Tell you what, when this thing is over I’m coming back home for a while,” she says. “And we can spend our time doing whatever we want.”

“I’d love that,” you say. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, my beautiful wife,” Carol replies.

You kiss her lips for a few minutes before you both feel the weight of sleep fall over you.

When you wake in the morning, you spend a few more hours with Carol, Kamala, and Monica. The goodbye is always hard, but you know Carol will come back to you. She always does.

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers fluff #carol danvers #kamala khan #monica rambeau #I miss these ladies so bad #the marvels #captain marvel

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gloomwitchwrites · 7 months ago

Note

Their child is getting bullied at school.

Ugh, anon. Are you trying to break my heart? Are you trying to make me ache? I think you are. I really think so especially with a prompt like this.

Firstly, I love some Task Force 141 Dad prompts, headcanons, etc. It's so indulgent on my end. I adore picturing them as fathers. Personally, I see them all as girl dads but that's just me. I didn't do that here, but I still headcanon it. Enjoy some protective 141 daddies.

Presented in four drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings: swearing, hurt/comfort, mentions of bullying

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny breathes deep. He needs to calm down.

Johnny goes to one knee, staring into his son’s eyes. “What happened?”

The story drives his irritation higher. It’s frustrating. And nothing is being done about it.

Johnny should be an adult about this. He should let the school handle it. But he also knows that bullies are slick. They don’t want to be caught.

And sometimes all they need is a physical reminder.

“If it happens again, you form a fist. Like this.” His son nods. “Hit them here. Got it?” Johnny points to a spot on his face.

“Got it.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle softly knocks on his daughter’s bedroom door.

She glances up.

“Can I come in?” She nods and Kyle enters, sitting on the bed of her bed. “Your mum told me what happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

“She pushed first.”

“I believe you,” Kyle says softly. “I taught you stand up for yourself.”

“I did.”

“I know you did, baby.” He gently cups her cheek and leans in, placing a kiss on her forehead. “But come to me first. Allow me to help. Okay?”

She leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Love you, baby girl.”

John Price

“Enjoy your lunch?”

John’s daughter nods. “Yep.”

“Did you like the blueberry muffin your mother packed you?”

“Yes.”

“And your sandwich?”

“Perfect amount of jelly.”

John frowns. “I know you’re lying, dove. Your mum packed a peanut butter brownie and a turkey sandwich.”

His daughter goes quiet.

“You’re not eating your lunch. Why?”

She bites her lip and John drops to her level.

“Talk to me.”

The words spill out of her, and John goes cold. Someone is taking her lunch, leaving her with absolutely nothing.

John nods, pulling her in for a hug. “I’ll take care of it, dove.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon has to bite his tongue and clench his fist. His irritation is rising. His wife places her hand on his thigh, squeezing it with reassurance.

“It’ll be fine, Simon,” she murmurs.

“Someone hurt my little girl. Our daughter is being punished. I want some fucking answers.”

“I know. But if you go in guns blazing, it won’t help. She’s already upset.”

Simon sighs heavily. His wife is right. He needs to calm down. Being combative won’t help anything.

“And you won’t confront the parents?”

Simon bites the inside of his cheek, growling. “If it stops.”

“Simon.”

“Promise,” he says.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @daemondoll @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @ash-tarte @eternallyvenus @spookyscaryspoon @vrb8im

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fishfooddude · 7 months ago

Text

Gimme a Minute

Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Just something I threw together while I was waiting for my individual supervision session to start.

The Bear MasterList

Directory

“Hey, baby.” Carmy greeted you as he entered your shared apartment. You hadn’t heard him due to wearing your noise-canceling earbuds. “Yo, baby?” he called again as he hung his jacket in the closet adjacent to the front door. “Baby- you mad or somethin’?” he asked as he strode toward the couch. Carmy swallowed nervously before putting a hand on your shoulder- you practically jumped out of your skin when you felt his calloused fingertips on your bare shoulder.

“Carmy! You scared the shit out of me!” you yelped as you removed your earbuds. Carmy’s face shifted from worry and concern to a more relaxed demeanor. You weren’t mad at him. You just failed to hear him walk into the apartment that night- the thought of that being semi-concerning; I mean, what if Carmy had been a serial killer or something? You would’ve gotten murdered. Safe to say, Carmy had a new fear unlocked, and his momentary relief quickly faded. “You’re home early,” you commented, placing your earbuds back into their charging case. He nodded and tried to push the thoughts of coming home to blood-splattered walls out of his head.

“What had you so invested?” Carmy questioned you as he moved to sit next to you on the couch. You groaned and leaned back on the sofa, your laptop almost falling from where it had been perched on your knees. “This stupid freakin’ string theory homework. If I’d left your place when I was supposed to, I wouldn’t be stuck in the hardest science class my school offers.” you playfully scolded him.

Carmy chuckled and put his head on your shoulder before scooting closer to you, “You enjoyed yourself. Didn’t you?”

You met his question with an eye roll, “You know I did…I’d ask you to help with this assignment, but considering you don’t know the periodic table of elements, I don’t think you’ll be very helpful.”

Carmy shook his head, “Lemme help you in a different way.”

“How are you horny? You left for work at like 4 AM and now it’s almost midnight. You’re a madman, Berzatto.” you laughed as you looked at him. You’d never understood how Carmy existed; he ran on five, maybe six hours of sleep most of the time, and you were convinced that he- a three Michelin star chef- only consumed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I guess it did make sense why he had stomach ulcers at 27- but that was a thought you could push to the back of your mind for now.

“I just wanted to cuddle.” Carmy laughed as he lifted his head from your shoulder before continuing, “But I’m not one to turn down destroying that-” You cut Carmy off by placing your thumb against his lips. “Carmen. Gimme a minute to save this- why don’t you go get the shower ready?” you winked, dropping your hand and turning your attention back to your laptop. He shook his head as his lips formed a sinister smirk, “I could do that.”

“Yea? I bet you could do that.” you taunted without looking up from your computer. Carmy reached for your chin and gently pulled your head to face him. He stared into your eyes, and you felt your cheeks getting hotter by the millisecond, “Don’t be a brat- you’re my good girl. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, chef.”

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto one shot #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #aestheticaltcow #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear fan fiction #the bear fan fic #the bear imagine #the bear one shot #the bear fic

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zombvic · 8 months ago

Text

TINDER IRL PART one (harry lewis x reader)

summary : in which y/n gets invited to the sidemen tinder irl (usa edition) and meets a certain brit and their instant friendship slowly progresses into something bigger

face claim : no one right now (kendall jenner later)

notes : reader is like a 2019 ICON like disstracks against the paul brothers, ricegum etc.. now STILL doing youtube but on a much more lowkey basis. also im sorry but i had to add that the reader is an f1 fan IM SORRY (im locked in as an f1 girlie) 😵 yall im not american or even close to a native english speaker (#slavicstruggles) but i tried making the readeramerican cause i tried to do the american la gf x british bloke bf xx god bless 'merica RAAAAAH. also i used lines from like all the videos and made my own cause the lines from this video were insane.. last also, don't be a ghost reader 🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

pairings : harry lewis x reader , sidemen x platonic!reader , all the other youtuber in the videos x platonic!reader

warnings : drugs (ketamine joke)

You got invited to the SIDEMEN Tinder In Real Life youtube video. You are acutely aware to what the Sidemen are and you've seen their videos before. Now to be fair, the genres between your channel and their channels were pretty different. The Sidemen were known for football challenges, those 100$ vs 100,000$ challenges and other things with a similar vibe. You on the other hand, you did vlogs, lifestyle hack and tips, in your time you've achieved some disstracks and occasionally broke down some formula 1 grand prix weekend.

The moment you saw the instagram dm from the Sidemen official account you weren't sure how to react. Should you be excited? scared? worried? yeah.. all. It was the Sidemen, Logan Paul, Mike and George (idk who Mike and George but who cares).

Eventually you accepted the offer and waited till the day you had to be "picked up" by kinda random men for 5 minutes straight. The day came, you got dressed for the video shoot, they made you wait with the other girls until they called your name and then you walked in.

"Hi, I'm (your name). I'm 24 and i'm from Newark, New Jersey" (go devs go) You've practiced that line like 50 times before you left, not because you wanted to come out of this video with a new man but because you didn't want to embarrass yourself lmao.

"Hi, I'm Vikk. I'm 26 and are you from Tennessee, because you're the only ten i see"

"Would've been funny if i hadn't just said im from New Jersey dude, no sorry"

"Hello, I'm Logan-"

"No. Complicated history" you said as you swiped left.

"One chance please"

"Alright, BUT u gotta watch it tho"

"Okay. SO. If i were a pizza delivery guy, i'd be giving YOU the tip"

"Ew no sorry lmfao.. that was weak as fuck"

"Alright wow, Hello, I'm Tobi. I'm 31 and they say that kissing is a language of love, so would you mind starting a conversation with me?"

"Sure go on.. yes. I love that"

Hello, My name is Ethan and let only latex stand between our love.

"Yeah thats funny.. alright, go on"

"Yo, I'm KSI. I'm 30 and you know how they say skin is the largest organ on the human body? Well.. Not in my case."

"Lmao, yes go on"

“Hello, I'm Mike. I'm 37 and girl, you don't need no vibrator when you got this Pickled Dick.”

"Jesus Christ. No, get out"

"Hi, My name is Simon and.. Simon says you want to swipe right"

"Lmao. I love that, Yes"

"Sup, I'm George and I’m peanut butter. You’re jelly. Let’s have sex"

"Jeeesus, that’s crazy bro... no"

"Hello, My name is Josh and I find your lack of nudity disturbing"

"No, I'm so sorry" (guys i love freya sm i couldnt do this)

"Uhm, Hello. I'm Harry. I'm 26 years old and what do ketamine and your underpants have in common?"

"I don't know" you said looking at the blonde-ish man confused.

"I'd like to sniff them both."

The whole room fell into a laughter, you included. "Yes"

"BUT I GET A NO?" Logan exclaims. "What a scam"

WHY DID YOU SAY NO?

(NO : Logan, Josh, Mike, Vikk and George)

"For Logan i think we left this in 2019 and rightfully so. For Josh i dont really know tbh, i just thought his line couldve been better. Mike, i think you know why i said no. Vikk.. Im gonna be honest i dont even remember what youve said but im sure i had my reasons and George, you couldve been waaaaaay smoother mate.. tough luck"

YALL. this is part one because i cant be arsed and put it all right here right now 😁😁😁

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paxaz535 · 7 days ago

Text

Brothers Best Friend

♡pairing ♡

paige x black!oc

chapter i

chapter ii , chapter iii , chapter iv ,

summery : daveli has been crushing on her brothers best friend since she was in 8th grade. Finally the two attends the same college and many things happen.

———————————

“So, P. How do you feel about finally going to college?” David asked his best friend as they both sat on the couch. They were currently gaming, being obnoxiously loud. Paige chuckled, “It feels weird but I’m ready to play ball.” She replied as she made 2K Steph Curry make a 3. “Let’s fucking go!”

David just rolled his eyes, planning on distracting her but he knew how crazy she gets over this game so he decided against it. “That was nothing, man.” David spoke as he looked back at the screen. “Nah, you’re just trash.” Paige teased as she grabbed a grape from the fruit bowl in front of them.

Daveli sat on the stairs, listening into the two conversation, she smiled widely every time she heard the older’s girl voice, her crush growing each day. Now, Daveli has been crushing on Paige since she was 13 and Paige was 14.

She could never do anything about it because of her stupid brother, but she’s an adult now- well, almost. She turns 18 in two days. You’d think she’d grow out of the crush but it only grew stronger. Even when Paige had her relationships throughout high school, Daveli never stopped liking her.

Now she’s about to be a senior while Paige would be a Freshman in College in a few weeks. Daveli was proud of her but then again a part of her was upset that the girl would be leaving. She wouldn’t see her for her while. “Eli? what are you doing sweetie?” Her mom asked as she began to walk down the stairs. Daveli jumped, the voice catching her off guard.

“Nothing, momma.” She replied as she took a glance at Paige. She had on an all black outfit with white air forces and her hair was in a low bun, out of her face while she played the game. Daveli cheesed some more, seeing Paige like this made her giddy inside. “Well, come help me with the food.” Her mom spoke as she continued down the stairs.

“Hi, sweeties.” Angelica spoke as she walked up the two gamers. David groaned, “Ma, I told you to stop calling us that.” He spoke as the woman came and kissed the two on their heads. Paige blushed, finding their mom so sweet and caring. She thought of Angelica as her second mom. “Boy, hush. It’s almost dinner, what y’all want?” She asked as she picked up the empty fruit bowl from the coffee table. Paige looked at her phone, it was 5:49. “Oh, thank you but I should probably head home, my dad-” David shook his head.

“You should stay, dude. We can sleep out here and shit.” Daveli inwardly smirked, Paige sleeping over? Oh fuck yea. “I mean, if it’s no bother, Ms. Robertson.” Angelica glared at her son, “Language. And yes, you’re more than welcome to stay.” Paige smiled and texted her dad, letting him know she wont be coming home tonight.

Daveli then made her way towards everyone. She had sleep shorts with a tank on. “Uh, ma. You said earlier that I could pick dinner.” David scoffed, “No? All you do is pick pasta 24/7.” Daveli smacked her lip, “So? All you do is eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches 24/7.” Paige sat back, watching the scene with amusement. “This what we not finna do. Since y’all can’t pick, our guest can choose what we eat. What you want, baby?” Angelica spoke. Daveli rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. Paige smiled innocently, “You still got seafood?” Angelica smiled, nodding her head. David dapped her up, he been wanting seafood for the longest.

Daveli eyes went wide and her mouth dropped as she watched her mother walk towards the kitchen. “Bro, y’all know I don’t fuck wit seafood.” David laughed, “I’m sorry eli, but that’s what I got a taste for.” Paige spoke as she chuckled. “Go make yo pasta.” David teased as he grabbed his game controller and continued playing 2K.

The younger girl just groaned, making her way back upstairs to her room. “Where you going, lili?” Angelica yelled from the kitchen. “To wing stop!” She spoke as she came back down with her keys.

Daveli came back to the house smelling like seafood and it messed with her stomach. She noticed the two best friends still playing the game and just went back upstairs. She turnt on coryxkenshin and got comfortable in her bed. She couldn’t even take a bite of her wing before she heard the door slam open. She saw the two best friends standing in the doorway, looking at her.

she paused before going back to her laptop. “Elii.” She groaned and paused the video. “you know I love you right?” David spoke as he and paige crept in, daveli knew this game. he’s trying to sweet talk her into letting him get some, what a loser.

“no. get out.” she spoke before biting into the wing. david groaned, “come on sis. let me get one wing.” david spoke as he sat in front of her bed. she shook her head, “no, i only got six. there’s a seafood boil waiting downstairs for you.” paige chuckled, she didn’t want any but why pass up the opportunity to mess with the younger girl?

“i can get one wing.” david pushed as he eyed her food. “no, but what you can do is get out.” she was already on her second one, the girl haven’t ate all day so she was hungry. david rolled his eyes, “you’re stingy.” he got up. “No, just hungry. now, bye.” the girl dipped a wing into the ranch and took a bite. David mean mugged her, he closed her laptop and walked towards the door. “David! you’re so irritating.” daveli yelled as she heard him laughing. paige smirked at the girl, “oh shut up, p.” paige put her hands up in surrender. “the food could be poisoned, what if he just wanted to see?” she asked.

“I would already be dead.” daveli spoke as she finished her third one. paige just chuckled and walked out, closing the door behind her. daveli just smiled to herself, talking to paige was always gonna put a smile on her face. she went back to her laptop and continued to eat.

It was 8:37 when daveli went downstairs to throw away her trash. She noticed her mom in slight a rush. she had on her scrubs and was looking for something. “hey, sweetheart. you seen my pin?” daveli threw away the bag, “uh.. i think it was in your car. you always leave it in there.” daveli answered as she sat at the island. angelica sighed in relief, “you’re right. thank you, beautiful.” she came over and kissed her cheek. the daughter smiled.

“alright, as you can see I have a night shift so I won’t be back until tomorrow. Please keep those two in check.” daveli laughed, “like they’ll listen to me,” she spoke sarcastically as she watched her mother pick up her purse. angelica smiled, “make them.” daveli followed her out the kitchen and walked her to the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow, you two behave. i put eli in charge.” david and paige looked over at the woman, nodding. “okay, love you ma.” david spoke, paige waved sweetly and angelica was off.

“you’re funny if you think you’re in charge, daveli.” david laughed as he continued to play the game. paige was on her phone. daveli closed the door and locked it. “just don’t bother me, please.” daveli went up to her room, it was time for a shower.

when she got out, she heard music coming from downstairs. it was entirely too loud and it was only 9 pm. she quickly got dressed, did her night routine and walked down the steps. she automatically noticed voices coming from the living room but it wasn’t paige’s or david.

‘no way this dude got people over’

“david!” she had to yell over the music. everyone stopped talking and noticed the girl standing by the bottom step. daveli noticed it was 3 extra bodies with them, one of them being a girl. and that girl was next to paige. all over her. daveli’s heart stopped for a second, seeing them threw her so off guard that she didn’t even hear david calling her name. “daveli, what do you want?” he asked.

the girl attention was pulled away from the scene and onto her brother. “dude, you know momma don’t like when people over if she not here.” the girl exclaimed as she crossed her arms. her eyes kept going over to paige and the random girl that was practically sitting on her lap. she slightly shuddered, seeing it made her body feel weird.

“chill out, they gon be here for another hour or two and then they’ll leave. you’re not gonna snitch, are you?” he asked as he looked at her. she just sighed and shook her head. “can you at least turn the music down?” she asked as she took one more glance at the two girls, paige chuckled at something she said. daveli couldn’t help it as she gave them a look, “fix your face.” david spoke. daveli just rolled her eyes and went back upstairs, at least they turned the music down.

when she reached her room, she let out a big sigh. seeing paige with that girl messed her up a bit. she needed to get her mind off the girl so she decided to put on some headphones and read. reading was one of her favorite things to do, it always calmed her when she was feeling uneasy.

two hours went by and the girl noticed the house was quiet again. she already finished her book and was just laying down, thinking. she hummed to the song playing and then she heard a knock. she quickly paused her music, she knew it was paige. david never knocks. she went to the door and opened it. “hi.”

paige smiled softly. “hey. i know you said not to bother you but do you have anything i can sleep in?” Daveli smiled as well, opening the door more. “yea, of course.” paige stepped inside and closed the door. “i have joggers, shorts, anything in particular?” the younger girl asked as she looked through her drawers. “joggers and a tee is fine.” paige replied softly as she stood by the door.

daveli just nodded and gave her the clothes. she wanted so badly to ask about the girl that was all over her but it really wasn’t her place to. “you can change in the bathroom.” daveli pointed towards the door. paige nodded and went inside, she thought daveli’s room was big but the bathroom inside of it was something else. she quickly changed and stepped out, the clothes were slightly on the big side due to the fact paige was skinner than daveli but she didn’t mind, if anything she liked them a bit baggie.

“thank you, eli.” paige spoke as she stood by the door. daveli just nodded, “yea.” she then had thought. “hey, uh i know how wild david could get so if you want your more than welcome to sleep in here.” paige heart warmed, daveli was always so sweet to her. “i’ll keep that in mind.” paige nodded as she opened the bedroom door. daveli nodded and smiled, she decided to keep the door slightly cracked just in case paige does decide to come. she turned off her lights and got comfortable under the covers, falling into a deep sleep.

paige couldn’t sleep. she couldn’t sleep at all, it was messing with her head. david kept snoring loudly and he is indeed a wild sleeper. paige was getting annoyed, she loved her best friend, but sometimes he does things to remind her that he’s a boy. The pull out couch was too small for the both of them as it is so she was slightly cramped. as she was trying to get comfortable, the boy had the audacity to blow one back. she couldn’t take it anymore. “oh, hell nah bro.” She quietly but quickly got up. she then remembered what daveli offered. she’s probably asleep. but it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

she quietly went up the stairs, noticing the door cracked a bit. she smiled as she walked closer to the room. she peeked inside, seeing daveli sound a sleep. she noticed how daveli slept on one side of the bed, like she knew paige was gonna come. it made paige heart warm, the younger girl was always so thoughtful and paige loved that about her. she quietly closed the door and walked to the bed.

she got in and got under the covers, the bed was soft and warm, making her sigh in relief. “at least you don’t snore.” paige whispered as she got comfortable. needless to say, paige quickly fell asleep and didn’t worry about waking up anytime soon.

excited to see how this goes..

i have some ideas in mind.

taglist - @melpthatsme more if wanted

#uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #basketball #paige bueckers #uconn huskies #this is what makes us girls #paige bueckers x oc

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bellaxgiornata · 5 months ago

Text

A Favor from the Devil |Chapter Four|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader Word Count: 4.1k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)

a/n: Saint Matthew strikes again in this fluffy-ish(?) chapter that has been my favorite to write so far. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @kee-0-kee @dethspllz @a-half-empty-g1rl @senjoritanana @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @danzer8705 @scriptedmoon @flowher @wanda-maxamommy @guccicloudz @loves0phelia @withasideofmeg @mattmurdock-wife24 @sarraa-26 @mylastarrival @mdanon027 @kmc1989 @abiisscared

“Dinner?”

“We'll see what we've got, cricket.”

The sound of voices in the hallway broke through Matt’s sleeping mind, pulling him back to consciousness. Groggily stirring on his couch, Matt tried to focus his senses around him as he rubbed a hand across his forehead. Waking from sleep always left him a bit disoriented, especially the rare times he allowed himself a short nap.

“Chicken nuggets?”

“You know I'm–I'm not too sure if we have any left, but we can look when we get inside.”

Pushing himself slowly upright on the couch with a hand, the leather groaned beneath his weight. As he continued to listen to the voices outside of his apartment, Matt quickly realized he was overhearing you and your daughter in the hallway. Leaning forward and resting his elbows along his thighs, he tilted his head towards the wall where the pair of you were now standing in front of your own apartment door.

“I’m hungry.”

“I’m sure we have something I can make for dinner tonight, Evie.”

A frown settled on Matt’s mouth, his tired eyes narrowing as he focused closer on your body out in the hall. It sounded sluggish, as if you were exhausted and low on energy, and if he concentrated really hard, he could hear the faint rumblings of your stomach. You were both hungry. And with the hesitant way you’d just responded to your daughter along with the burst of anxiety inside of you at your last statement, he’d begun to wonder how true it actually had been.

Shifting on the couch, Matt did what he’d told himself he wouldn’t continue to do. He focused on you as you made your way into your apartment. He found it odd how your young daughter didn’t seem to say much, even now when it was just the pair of you alone in your own place. Something about that unsettled him. A child so young shouldn’t constantly be so timid and quiet.

He heard you set something down on your kitchen counter–a purse most likely. He listened as you took four steps before you opened what sounded like your refrigerator door. There was a soft, quiet sigh that even he’d barely caught as you closed that door seconds later and opened the other. A few items faintly shifted around on the shelf as you clearly searched for something in your fridge.

“Sorry, cricket, there’s no chicken nuggets. I’ll have to add them to the grocery list for this weekend. But I can make us peanut butter and jelly for dinner. How does that sound?”

“No bread.”

“Oh,” Matt heard you reply, your cheerful tone instantly shifting to something disheartened. “You’re right. I uhm, I guess we might need to–to make a trip to the store before dinner then. Maybe we can find something to make for tonight.”

Your heart rate had accelerated as you spoke, the sound piquing Matt’s curiosity. Why had you suddenly become so nervous at the prospect of going shopping? But then he heard you picking up the object you’d set on your counter, the soft noise of a zipper confirming that it had indeed been your purse. That’s when he understood–you were looking for your wallet. Probably to see what cash you had on you in order to find groceries for tonight. You were probably nervous because you knew how little you’d find to help you.

Eyes closing, Matt blew out a deep breath as he buried his face in his hands. So his suspicions had been correct, you were struggling financially. Even with being able to afford to feed your daughter. He felt sick to his stomach listening to your growing panic in the apartment across the hall in what was clearly a very vulnerable moment for you.

Desperately Matt wished he could head over to your place right now, knock on your door, and offer you that job that Foggy and Karen had agreed upon letting you have earlier this week. Except there was absolutely no way Matt could realistically do that without making you entirely uncomfortable and possibly scaring you further away from him. Because he’d barely ever spoken to you, there was no realistic reason that he should’ve known about the situation you’d found yourself in or for him to offer you a job.

But he also couldn’t just sit here in his apartment and let you both continue to go hungry.

Pressing the heels of his hands into his closed eyes, he tried hard to think of how he could help you. Chewing the inside of his cheek, his mind ran over countless different ideas before it finally settled on one realistic one. Lowering his hands from his face, a small smile slipped onto his mouth. While he may not have had an excuse to go over to your place and offer you that part-time position just yet, there was something else he could do to immediately help the pair of you and possibly open the door to communication between you both.

Getting up from his couch, Matt began to make his way into the kitchen and over towards his fridge. Mentally he was already trying to prepare himself for what he would say to you when you opened the door for him because he needed to make this interaction count. He couldn’t afford to have you slam the door on his face–or worse, completely refuse to answer.

“Thank you, Mrs. Amato,” he whispered under his breath as he pulled a dish out of his fridge.

Pulling your wallet out of your purse, you tried to calm the sick feeling in your stomach. You already knew how much cash you had in there. A single twenty dollar bill. And that was all you had until you got paid again next Friday.

Plastering a smile onto your face, you glanced up at Evie. She was standing at the edge of the kitchen, the glaringly empty living room behind her only cementing your feelings of inadequacy. But now wasn’t the time for focusing on that–you needed to find a way to stretch twenty dollars and fast.

“Hey, how about you go put your backpack away in your room while I try to figure something out for dinner?” you suggested.

Silently Evie turned and headed over to her bedroom. Pressing your lips together, you watched her until she disappeared from your sight. Once she had, you focused back down on the wallet in your hands, spotting the lone twenty dollar bill sitting in your otherwise empty wallet. Shoulders dropping in defeat, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it last all of next week now.

Two soft knocks came from the door behind you, the unexpected sound startling you so much that you dropped your wallet back inside of your purse. Your heart jumped into your throat just as Evie poked her head out of her bedroom, her eyes growing wide and terrified. Yet again you did your best to plaster a calm smile on your face, not wanting to worry her further. Because while you didn’t know who was at your door, and while you were almost positive it wasn’t your ex-fiance, your fear had still sky-rocketted at the sound. The fact that someone was here when you didn't expect company was enough to put you on edge.

“It’s alright, I got it, cricket,” you told her.

Mouth going dry, you stepped out of your kitchen and nervously made your way towards the door. You weren't sure who you’d find on the other side because it had barely been a week since you'd moved in. You'd intentionally gone out of your way not to speak to anyone in the building, so there was no reason someone should've been trying to visit you right now.

Placing both of your hands very carefully against the door, you leaned forward and peered through the peephole. Sucking in a sharp breath, you were shocked to see your neighbor standing in the hallway. The same man from across the hall who you just couldn’t seem to get away from this week. You were about to lock the deadbolt and tell him to leave until he shifted his weight on his feet and you caught sight of what looked like a glass dish covered in tinfoil in his hands.

Was he bringing you food? Because that was…odd. You were in the middle of New York City, why the hell would your neighbor be bringing you food? Even where you’d lived previously just outside of the city, no one had been that friendly. Had he somehow overheard you and Evelyn talking about dinner in the hall? But even then, as you replayed the short conversation in your mind, nothing you’d said had implied that you were both in need of anything.

You’d truly contemplated telling this man to go away as you stood there watching him through the peephole. It was strange that he kept randomly appearing around you this week. But as you stood there chewing your bottom lip, you knew that if he was bringing you food–for whatever reason that he was–you weren’t entirely in the position to turn it down. Because a stranger’s kindness, however unexplainable, would certainly help you make it to your next paycheck.

Inhaling a deep breath, you tried hard to calm your nerves as you began to unlock your door. After all, he was only carrying a dish of food, not some sort of weapon, and when you’d very briefly encountered him on the roof a few nights ago he’d sounded friendly at least. Though there was still a part of you that internally screamed danger whenever you saw him, and you’d yet to put your finger on why.

Opening your door only halfway, your trembling right hand still gripping it in case you needed to slam it shut, you took in the sight of your neighbor. He was standing there in a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a crumpled olive green tee-shirt–a vast difference from the nicer suit you’d first spotted him in at the beginning of the week. There was a bright smile on his face beneath the red-tinted glasses sitting atop his nose. Your eyes didn’t fail to miss the small cut along his chin behind his stubble though, your gaze lingering along it as you nervously licked your lips.

“Can I help you?” you asked after a moment.

“Hey, I’m your neighbor across the hall,” the man greeted, his voice like honey to your ears as he spoke. “6A?”

One of his hands briefly released the bottom of the dish he was holding to gesture at the door behind himself. Your eyes followed the movement before coming back to land on the dish in his hands. It looked like a glass dish filled with lasagna and your stomach gave a faint rumble. Your hand nervously gripped your door tighter, hoping he hadn’t caught the sound as your attention returned to his smiling face.

“Hi,” you replied awkwardly.

“I just wanted to introduce myself,” he continued, clearly unphased by the tone of your voice. “My name is Matthew Murdock. I’m a lawyer over at Nelson, Murdock, and Page. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of us before, but we're known for helping out many folks in the Hell’s Kitchen area.”

“I haven’t,” you stated simply.

The man’s smile wavered for the briefest of seconds, but it didn’t completely disappear from his face. It was true, though. You hadn’t been in the city long enough to have become familiar with much in it yet. While you’d been at Hope Haven, you’d been more focused on getting you and Evie set up to make a life in Hell’s Kitchen. You didn’t exactly have a need to go searching for lawyers–not unless Daniel found you. But even then, you weren’t sure there was a single lawyer that you could afford who could save you and Evelyn from him.

“Well, we often tend to do a lot of pro bono work for clients in the area who understandably can’t afford a lawyer,” he continued, almost as if he’d read your mind. “And they tend to show their appreciation for our help with meals and baked goods–and sometimes far too much fruit.”

He chuckled good-naturedly as he held up the lasagna in his hands. Your eyes once more dropped down to the dish and you swore you could smell the delicious red sauce through the tinfoil.

“I just thought I’d bring over some food to welcome you to the building,” Matthew continued. “I know with a big move sometimes it's hard to find the time to cook or even pick up groceries, so I thought this might help give you a little break this week.” His charming smile grew even wider, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes behind his red lenses. “But I’ll be honest and admit upfront that I did not make this lasagna, so I can't exactly take credit for it. One of our clients made it as a thank you for dealing with some issues with her landlord.”

You eyed Matthew curiously as he stood in the hallway just in front of your door, examining his friendly and charming smile beneath those red glasses. While there was a part of you that still felt an unexplainable sense of danger from him–the hair on your forearm having prickled beneath his unseeing gaze–there was a smaller part of you that felt his sincerity. After all, how often did you hear about lawyers who handled pro bono cases happily getting paid in lasagna and fruit?

Still, you found him incredibly strange and you planned to remain on your guard with him.

“And why exactly is it that you're giving away a lasagna to a neighbor you don’t even know?” you asked cautiously.

He shrugged lightly in response. “I certainly don’t need an entire lasagna for myself. I’m just one man, there’s only so much I can eat.” He paused, a soft, disarming chuckle falling past his lips again. “I’m still trying to make my way through the soup I was generously gifted the other day. But if I’m also being honest–”

He leaned forward towards you but the unexpected proximity had you startle backwards a step, your hand squeezing your door in response. Strangely it almost seemed like he’d hesitated, as if he’d somehow known you’d moved despite being unable to see you.

“I don’t want the food to go to waste and I’d much prefer to drop it by your place than over at Mrs. Henderson’s in 6C,” he finished conspiratorially. “She frightens me a little. Very big flirt, that one. Doesn’t matter if she’s in her late sixties and widowed.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly as he leaned away from you once more. Curiously you thought you saw him even shuffle a step backwards into the hallway.

“Right,” you said, uncertain how to respond to that.

“But I’m sure you’re busy this evening and I'd hate to take up any more of your time,” Matthew continued, extending the lasagna out towards you. “I was told the instructions to heat this up were on a post-it note on top, but considering that I can’t see it, I’m certainly hoping that’s true.”

You glanced down at the yellow post-it note on the tinfoil. It did in fact have the reheating instructions noted. But instead of reaching out and taking the dish from him, you awkwardly stood there, your right hand still firmly grasping your door. Matthew’s smile finally fell at your hesitation.

“I’m sorry if this is making you uncomfortable in any way. I can leave,” he said. “I was hoping this would be a friendly gesture. I just wanted to introduce myself and let you know that if you ever needed something, I’m just across the hall.”

“Why?” you blurted.

His dark brows furrowed beneath his glasses, his head tilting just a bit to the side. “Why what?” he asked.

“Why’re you coming across the hall to welcome a neighbor to the building?” you questioned. “That seems quite uncharacteristic of someone in the city. At least, from the time I’ve been here so far. People are not generally this friendly unless they want something in return. And I'm not looking to owe anyone any favors.”

The charming smile returned to his mouth as he shrugged once more. “Maybe it’s my Catholic upbringing,” he told you, “but I prefer to be kind whenever the opportunity presents itself. But I assure you that I absolutely do not want anything in return. I promise.”

Your eyes dropped back down to the dish in his extended hands. You did, in fact, want to accept it, but you still felt uncomfortable at the idea of it.

“I…don't really know what to say,” you awkwardly confessed.

“You don't need to say anything at all,” he assured you.

Cautiously releasing the firm hold you had on your door, you slowly reached out and accepted the dish from his outstretched hands. You eyed him curiously as the smile on his face somehow grew wider when you did.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“You're welcome,” he replied. “I hope you and your daughter enjoy it. And if you're a fan of baked goods, I know for a fact that we're receiving far too many peanut butter cookies on Monday. I'd be happy to drop some off because I certainly don't need them all.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, clutching the heavy glass dish in your hands, “that's alright. Really. We don't–”

You stopped short when something tugged at your dress slacks. Glancing down beside your leg you spotted Evie with one of her small fists curled around the dark fabric. She looked up at you and then over at your neighbor.

“Cookies?” she asked.

Matthew's head turned towards the sound of your daughter’s voice. The softening of his expression somehow almost completely eased that feeling of danger you often felt around him with the way he was now smiling down at Evie. He almost looked trustworthy. Safe.

Almost . Which made you even further suspicious of him.

“Hello there,” he greeted gently. “I'm–”

“Mr. Murdock,” Evie said.

Shifting the heavy casserole dish over to your left arm and cradling it against your chest, your other hand landed protectively along her back and held her close to you. You were surprised she'd even come over and spoken to him because she usually disliked strangers and kept quiet. She must have sensed something else in him than you initially had.

“That’s right,” he said, still warmly smiling in her direction. “We're always getting sent so many baked goods. And it's up to your mother, but I could certainly bring you some cookies next Monday after work if you'd like?”

Evie's attention shifted to you, her wide hopeful eyes silently pleading with you. She didn't often get sweets anymore because they weren't a priority when you were budgeting groceries for the week, so you knew exactly what that look meant. She wanted you to accept the offer of cookies. But that also meant another inevitable interaction with your neighbor and this one was already one too many for your liking.

But it was Evie and you’d do just about anything to make her happy.

With a sigh, you nodded at her before focusing back on Matthew. “If it's not too much trouble, I think Evie would like that,” you told him. “Thank you.”

“No trouble at all Ms….?”

Your lips pressed together for a moment, your initial instincts fighting you to give away your name and briefly causing you to hold your tongue. Though you had just given him Evie’s name and he already knew where you lived. What more harm was there if he knew your name, too?

Quietly you gave it to him, your stomach twisting into nervous knots. He repeated it softly, somehow the sound further calming you as he did.

“It was nice meeting you,” he said, already taking a step backwards towards his door. “And I meant what I said. If you ever need anything, I'm just across the hall.”

A tight smile settled onto your lips even though you knew he couldn't see it as you nodded. “Thank you,” you replied, full well planning not to ask him for anything more. “I'll keep that in mind.”

You watched as he finally turned before you shut the door one-handed, the dish of lasagna still cradled against your chest. As weird as that whole interaction had been, at least you didn't have to worry about dinner for the next few nights.

“I guess we're having lasagna tonight, cricket,” you said, carrying the dish over to your kitchen counter. “Sound good?”

Glancing over your shoulder at Evie, you saw the expression brighten her face. She nodded enthusiastically in response and the sight managed to put a smile on your own face.

Whoever that Mr. Murdock was, he'd at least put a smile on your daughter’s face tonight with his kindness.

“Mama!!”

Eyes flying wide open at the unexpected scream that ripped you from a dead sleep, you felt your heart nearly jolt out of your chest. By the time you heard your daughter shout for you a second time, you were already scrambling out of your blanket and rising to your feet.

“I'm coming, Evie!” you yelled back.

This was why you slept in front of your daughter’s door. Because it took you a matter of seconds to throw it wide open.

Rushing inside her bedroom, you found Evie out of her sleeping bag and standing by the window across the room. You dropped down to your knees once you reached her, immediately beginning to inspect her with your hands for any sign of injury.

“What is it?” you asked her in a panic. “What's wrong? Are you okay?”

She nodded her head, your eyes drawn back up to her face. Despite her having shouted for you, she didn't look terrified. She appeared startled and a little surprised, but not scared.

“I saw him,” she told you.

Hands making their way back up to her shoulders, your brows furrowed at her words. “Who?” you asked her slowly. “You saw who?”

“The man,” she answered, turning at the waist and pointing to her window. “Outside.”

Your eyes flew to the window, scanning the rooftops beyond the fire escape outside of her room. There was nothing to see though. And with how bright the billboard across the street was, you would have been able to see if someone was there.

This wasn't the first time this week Evie had told you she'd been seeing a masked man outside her window out on the rooftops. At first when she had told you about seeing someone, you'd let your fear take hold of you, worried it was somehow Daniel out there trying to torment you. But then when she hadn't been afraid of the man, you'd begun to worry that her fear of her father had led her to conjure up some masked imaginary figure that she kept seeing at nighttime when she was supposed to be asleep.

“Cricket,” you said softly, your attention returning to her, “I've told you already. There's no masked man on the roof.” You reached a hand up, gently cupping her cheek. “Sweetheart, you're just dreaming. Okay? No one is out there. We're safe here, remember?”

“ He keeps us safe.”

Her strange comment gave you pause, your lips parting as you wondered what that even meant. Shaking your head a second later, you rose back up to your feet. At least this masked man wasn't giving her nightmares.

“Let's get you back to bed, alright?” you suggested.

With a hand on her shoulder, you guided her across the room and back over to her sleeping bag. Despite being grateful that everything was alright after how terrified her screaming had made you, you really weren't a fan of her constantly waking at night because of this imaginary man.

“He is real,” she whispered.

Expelling a soft sigh, you helped your daughter get back into her sleeping bag, tucking her in as you smiled down at her. If she wanted to believe some man on the roof was keeping you safe, you weren’t about to tell her that she was wrong.

“Alright, Evie,” you replied. “But it's late. You should get back to sleep. You can tell me all about it in the morning. Okay?”

You leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek before gently smoothing her hair. Telling her goodnight one more time, you got up and made your way back out of the room. But before you shut the door after yourself, you caught her quiet voice once more behind you.

“He is real.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock series

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

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Wicked Games 12

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You open the cupboard and rummage through the contents. Rice crackers, no. Protein powder, please. You scoff and find what looks to be chocolate but as you rip the wrapper open and bite into it, the bitterness nearly gags you. You rush to the sink and spit it out.

“Glad to see you making yourself at home,” Steve muses from the doorway.

You look to him and fold the wrapper back around the bar. You scowl and go to put it back. You shake your head.

“I’m starving,” you say. “So hungry it hurts.”

You rub your stomach as a wave of dizziness bobbles your head. Between waves of nausea and fatigue, the ravenous need consumes you. You search around, forgetting him for the pang in your stomach. You pull open the fridge and pull out the yogurt. You peel the lid off and grab the sugar dish and pour it into the container.

“Woah, woah, that’s not good for the baby,” Steve rushes forward.

“Don’t,” you warn as you slide open drawers in search of a spoon, “do you have pickles?”

“Pickles? With yogurt?”

“I’m fucking hungry!” You growl, a surge of rage searing through your veins as you grab a spoon. “If I have to be here, let me eat, at least.”

“I don’t mind you eating, but you gotta be careful--”

“Pickles,” you remind him.

“Don’t got any, sorry. But I can go grab some, I guess. If you make a list--”

He gets closer and you recoil. You wave your hand at him and plug your nose, “don’t come any closer.”

“Excuse me?” He grimaces.

“Your cologne or something. It’s setting me--”

You spin and hold the spoon behind you as you puke into the sink. Your body lurches with each violent wretch. The bile does little to deter your appetite. You simply rinse out your mouth and the sink and go back to the hunt for satiation.

“They said the symptoms will probably be worse than usual,” he leans on the counter and watches you. “Nausea, hunger, hormones...”

“Goddamn? Ice cream? Do you have ice cream?” You snarl down at the freezer drawer.

“I’m not much of a sweets guy.”

“No pickles, no ice cream. Baking chocolate and sour yogurt.” You rant.

“I told you, I’ll go get you some stuff-”

“Then go.” You snap.

“Hey, watch it.”

“Or what?” You face him defiantly. “I’m carrying your baby, Steve Rogers, so you can’t do shit.”

“I can do whatever needs to be done. You might require bedrest.”

“Bedrest? I’m fine.” You insist and turn your back to him.

“You’re tearing apart my kitchen and slathering like a dog,” he reproaches.

“Slathering like a dog? Tell me again about how in love you are.” You snip, “Jeez.”

“I didn’t mean—honey, sweetheart, I’m just trying to help you settle. We both gotta learn to live with each other. We only got seven months or so to do so.” He crosses his arms as you pull out the loaf of bread and load the toaster.

“Hmm, you know what will help me settle in? Peanut butter and jelly. Oh and cream cheese. Mmph, yes,” you march around the kitchen and grab the butter. “Also, oreos--bagels!”

“Okay, I’ll head out,” he sniffs and shifts flat on his feet.

“Great,” you go back to the toaster as the scent of the browning bread drives you wild.

He approaches you from behind and you do your best to ignore him. You bounce on your heels impatiently and tap your fingers. You stiffen as he rests his hands on your hips. You have nowhere to go.

“A kiss before I go?” He asks.

You hold back a heave, “I just puked.”

“I don’t care,” he squeezes, “please. It’s been a while since that night. I’m a bit... neglected.”

You lock your jaw and stare at the tiled wall. You force the tension out and steel yourself. You turn to him and your insides coil uncomfortably.

“Fine,” you croak.

He leans in and presses his lips to yours. You hold back an eruption of disgust. Objectively, he’s handsome. He is the great golden Captain America but you’ve seen the real him. You’ve seen his callousness, his cruelty. You have witnessed his delusion. You wonder if the serum did that too.

The toast pops and you tear away just as his tongue pokes out. You grab the butter knife and take the lid off the container. You slide out a hot slice and spread the dairy across it. He sighs and looms close.

“Anything else I can get?” He asks.

“Just food. Lots of food,” you say as you shove a piece of toast in your mouth. “Mmm, ohmagrddddd.”

“Alright, I’ll be back. Call me if you need anything.”

“Sure,” you munch loudly.

Maybe that will keep him away. If you can make yourself as gross as possible, you won’t have to worry about him begging for kisses and touches. Right now, you don’t want anyone near you.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #wicked games #series #drabble

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formosusiniquis · 7 months ago

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Robin's Guide to the Care and Feeding of Your Newly Adopted Former Mean Girl

Happy @stevieweek everybody! This is Day One: Stobin with none of the bonus prompts, but keep an eye out cause i've got a few more incoming this week.

Robin Buckley & Stevie Harrington; Pre-Stevie Harrington/Eddie Munson WC: 9483 | T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tags/Themes: transfem!Steve Harrington; Platonic Soulmates Steve & Robin; Robin Buckley is the Stevie Harrington Defense Squad

AO3

On July 4th, 1985, Steven Joseph Harrington died in the Starcourt Mall Fire.

The story Robin Marie Buckley tells, after two weeks of hospitalization and an additional month in Indianapolis for “personal reasons,” when she returns to her senior year at Hawkins High a full week after the first day of school is one of abject heroism on the part of Steve.

It’s true, even if it isn’t the whole story. Just like it isn’t hard for her to play morose and avoidant, because that’s how she feels. She might know Dustin, but it’s too hard to spend much time with him and she doesn’t want to be the weird friendless senior who only talks to freshmen. She’ll leave that to Eddie Munson, who snatched Steve’s weird little child friends up only a few weeks into the first semester.

Nancy and Jonathan avoid her as much as she does them, she doesn’t think they know what to do with the new girl in the know. It paints a picture, well she realizes later that it paints a picture, but she doesn’t want to sit at a table and eat her peanut butter and jelly sandwich while Nancy Wheeler’s big beautiful eyes are staring at her like she’s an article that’s half an inch too long and needs to be dissected while Jonathan Byers is also there.

So she drifts through the halls of Hawkins High like a ghost, she’s Cathy on the moors. Avoiding anyone who might try to ask her too many questions about the final days of Steve Harrington and Starcourt Mall.

Until the day she spots a baby blue jeep pulled into the Henderson’s driveway, a tall brunette unloading a single suitcase from the back. She’s got her bike across the road before she can even think of a game plan. A noise that’s almost like a scream erupting from her mouth the entire time she coasts over.

“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!” It’s an uncharacteristic bit of grace, that lets her drop her bike to the ground and use its momentum to catapult herself into the other girl’s arms. Too excited for a second to remember that she’s in a place where small town gossip exists, and a new neighbor can fuel the mill for days.

But she enjoys her hug for a second before settling into a more appropriate character. She extends a hand, ignoring the laugh it gets her, “Welcome to Hawkins, I’m Robin, occasional Dustin babysitter.”

The girl’s smile pulls lopsided at her mouth, kissed with a bit of irony and undeniably charmed. “It’s nice to meet you Robin,” her voice is soft, and a little unsure. Wavering like Becky Simpson’s tone deaf oboe playing, unsure of what pitch and timbre to land on. “I’m Stephanie Henderson, Dustin’s cousin.”

The bit crumbles immediately between Robin’s fingers.

“Stephanie? You went with Stephanie? Are you kidding? We workshopped so many names!”

“I liked my name! But it’s weird apparently to be a girl named Steve.” She distributes finger quotes randomly throughout the sentence like Robin hadn’t been the one to say she didn’t know any girls named Steve. “Stephanie is pretty!”

Robin looks her best friend dead in the eye, unsurprised that there’s not a hint of humor even underneath the drama. “Never mind that it sure would be strange for Steve Harrington to die just for girl Steve who looks like she could be his cousin to move to town.”

“Affair baby,” Stephanie presents the solution with a flick of her hand. Robin notices that her nails are still chewed short, more noticeable after they talked about what it would be like for her to grow them out and manicure them.

“Give me the whole name right now,” Robin demands, “I wanna hear how it sounds.”

Steph, cause they’re going to have to figure out nicknames immediately they just aren’t the kind of friends that can go around being Robin and Stephanie, kicks the curb with her scuffed up Nike. Her arms crossed across her middle accentuates the way her body has already started changing, Robin feels like a creep for a second for noticing her friend’s boobs before deciding that they weren’t the kind of friends with those kinds of boundaries.

“Stephanie Marie Henderson.”

“Oh my god!”

“Shut up, don’t even.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“You’re already making a big deal out of it, which it’s not.” Stevie insists.

“You stole my middle name, you’re so obsessed with me.” It’s the best thing she’s ever heard actually, that Stevie might be as into this friendship as she is. She’s always the friend that’s too much.

Stevie’s smile is small, shier than she’s used to seeing it. “Yeah well whatever Stephanie Robin sounds like a straight to VHS Winnie the Pooh movie character or some shit.”

Dustin comes scrambling out of the house before Robin can make another joke. “You were supposed to call before you left! Ma isn’t finished setting up your room, and Tews is stuck under your bed.”

They share a look, and Robin thrills a little that she has a friend that she can share looks with. “Henderson,” Stevie shouts, sounding a little more like she did this summer. “Are you really going to make me carry my own bags in? I'm a fucking lady, dickhead.”

“Sure don't fucking talk like one,” Dustin hollers back from the door, already trudging out of the house.

“Gonna have to work on your feminism,” Robin says. wondering what kind of weird shit a person would have to sort through when they realized they were transsexual. “Just because you're on estrogen doesn't mean your arms are atrophied.”

The butter-wouldn't-melt smile is still the same, even though her face looks softer. She hands off her suitcase, patting Dustin on the head as he visibly stumbles under the weight. “Don't drag it on the sidewalk, it's new,” she directs.

He can't flip them off when it takes both hands to lift the luggage in his hand, “How are you more of an asshole, oh my god.”

“Is that anyway to talk to your cousin, Dustbunny?”

Dustin doesn't answer directly, but he's muttering under his breath the whole way to the house.

“My ribs still hurt some when I'm doing heavy lifting,” Stevie says when he's out of earshot. “Better to be a high maintenance girl all of a sudden than someone he doesn't think he can count on.”

“Don't love the way you used girl in that sentence, Dingus.” Robin shoves at her shoulder, “Let's go look at your room, we can plan how you want to decorate.”

“I'm not saying I'm upset we got the job, Rob, just that it's weird the way Keith was acting. He always hated me, you know that. Before all this,” she gestures down her striped top, well Robin supposes she’s actually gesturing down at the way it hugs her figure, “he hated me. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t spit on me if I was on fire.”

“That seems a little dramatic, but welcome to your first workplace sexism.” Robin gives Stevie a comforting pat. Hopeful that it communicates a ‘welcome to the bad parts of everyone knowing you're a girl’ and not how she’d been prepared to work some of that sexism to their advantage. But apparently Keith was charmed by Stevie’s list of favorite films, he’d even laughed when she said her favorite Star Wars movie was the one with the teddy bears. When they’d gone to pick out movies last week she’d heard him lecture a guy for five minutes on how it was Episode VI not ‘the third one.’

Stevie flips her hair, sending Robin a playful glare, “I’ve experienced sexism, thank you, have you already forgotten what I used to look like.”

“I’m sure he’ll go back to hating you once he realizes you working here is going to mean this is one more place that Henderson and the brats are always hanging around.” She went with Stevie to the arcade once and she almost understood why Keith always hid in the back when they walked in.

“Probably, but at least then I can stop being nice to him. He’s such a-” Robin can hear the way Stevie swallows the rest of the sentence. A frustrated, red blush flooding her cheeks as she bites down on her bottom lip. It’s confusing, the small shake of her head and how upset she suddenly seems to be with herself. “Sorry, sorry, never mind.”

Maybe it’s stupid, but for some reason that’s when Robin realizes that Stevie was about to say something mean. That Stevie stopped herself but she is, Robin supposes, frustrated that the instinct is still there. And it’s not like Robin doesn’t remember that they’ve talked about this before. Stevie with that eyepatch on from where they reattached her retina and Robin laying in the hospital bed next to her still under doctor’s supervision. Neither one of them were high anymore, it had been almost sixteen hours since Everything, they were only in the hospital at all because Robin’s mom had found them both passed out in her bed and panicked. When Mrs. Henderson had seen them both in Hawkins General and did what Stevie said was panicking and had them shipped to the city, her car speeding closely behind.

The only thing they could possibly be high on was the sudden crushing awareness of their own mortality, when Stevie’s one good eye locked with hers and she said, “I don’t want the first thing people think of when they remember me to be how I was a douche or an asshole. Or a bitch, I guess, if they actually let me change like they said they would.

“All the girls I know,” she paused and seemed to consider that, “all the girls that I still like, are good and kind and badass.”

“Including me?” Robin had teased, but she had remembered the way she had given Stevie such a hard time from the second they started working together until the moment they as the ‘adults’ realized they were going to have to protect Dustin and Erica from something that might kill them all.

“Especially you.”

So yeah, of course, when she catches herself about to verbally eviscerate Keith behind his back two weeks after being back in town she shuts down. But Robin isn’t about to let that happen. Stevie is good and kind and definitely a badass, if Keith were in trouble she would absolutely risk her life to save him -- as long as saving him didn’t keep her from saving one of the kids.

Stevie was a good person who had some mean girl tendencies, Robin wasn’t going to make her feel bad about that. As long as she was using her powers for good, or like Claire in the Breakfast Club she was kind of Mean Girl lite.

“He’s kind of a slimy creep,” Robin admits. The kind of comment she thinks, but couldn’t ever really say with her last group of friends. It would break the loser code.

Stevie’s shoulders drop from around her ears. She’s still idly picking at the nail polish they just painted on her thumb, but she smiles over at Robin. A little sly, a little catty. “He touched my shoulder while we were leaving and I swear to god he left orange cheese puff residue behind.”

“Maybe half of your new clothes shouldn’t be dry clean only.”

“ Maybe he should help cover my dry cleaning bill if he’s going to put his hands on me in the workplace. I could call Family Video HR, probably. You know his dad owns like half of this strip mall, and people gave me shit about having money, I’m pretty sure they own the dry cleaning place too.”

“So why do these polyester nightmares smell like the BO of employees past?”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

With the job and Stevie back, Robin almost forgets that she spent the first three weeks of school sad and miserable. She’s maybe even a little distracted that they have plans tonight, and forgets that there are reasons other than the threat of bacterial infection to avoid the girl’s room in the language hallway. And more than any of that, it’s really hard to think about any of that when she can feel her bladder starting to pickle her brain.

The door to the bathroom swings open before she can exit the stall. Voices she recognizes as Patty Taylor and Molly Smith already mid-conversation filter in. “I mean she’s pretty, like really pretty, but I mean why would you even move to Hawkins.”

It’s definitely too late to leave.

“Carol said that she heard from Heather that she moved in with her aunt, she was from the city or something.”

The squelching sound of a lipgloss wand leaving the tube is punctuated by a bitchy hum, “Well, you know who spent all that time in the city this summer.”

“I mean yeah, but how would they have even met? I’ve heard like six different stories about why she was there.”

Patty’s voice echoes, through the crack in the stall door Robin can see her lean over top of the sink putting her face even closer to the water spotted mirror above it. “Well she was in that mall fire, but I heard she had to stay so long after initial treatment because she…”

There must be some facial expression she’s missing, Patty trails off like she’s dropped some grand secret. Robin isn’t a total loser, she hears gossip. She knows that Mrs. Click is going through a bitter divorce from her husband because he had that affair with the gas station attendant from the Chevron by the highway. She knows that Tim Morris got sent to military school after he put a cherry bomb in Mrs. O’Leary’s mailbox. She knows that Vickie is definitely a shoo-in for clarinet first chair even though Michael Lewis had it last year and he’s a senior this year.

And yeah okay two of those she had heard from Stevie.

But she thinks she should have had some clue that there was some kind of rumor going around about her. Molly wrinkles her forehead, maybe she isn’t the only one who has no clue about this rumor. “Because she what?”

“Because she lost the baby and they put her in the psych ward,” Patty says loud enough that it bounces off the tile walls of the bathroom. A hand covers her mouth and they both look around like they’ve just remembered that they’re in public. Robin pulls her feet up on the toilet seat with her.

“What baby?” Molly asks in a whisper that seems even louder with the way she forces it out.

“Come on, everyone knows the reason she was so upset that Steve died. He knocked her up while they were working together and with the stress she lost the baby. She was such a freak already, the new girl and her must have been in the same padded cell in the loony bin.”

“Really? I mean with Steve Harrington? ”

“I mean Carol said it so I’m pretty sure it has to be true, you know how close she used to be with Steve.”

The bell rings, sending them both fleeing from the bathroom with muttered curses. Robin stays in the stall too stunned by what she’s heard to move. Stunned and filled with the thought that all she wants right now is to see Stevie.

She bumps into Eddie Munson on the way to the payphone. He gives her an unreadable look, mostly eyebrows that she can’t see beneath his bangs anyway, so she isn’t sure why he even bothers. Is he wondering why she’s skipping class? Or did he see her running from the bathroom and now he’s wondering if maybe the rumors were only partially true, that she’s still pregnant and she hadn’t lost the baby like apparently half the school thinks.

If a wet rat like Munson knows more about her status in the school than she does she really might have to go back and hurl.

She puts in her change and dials the increasingly familiar number for the Henderson place.

“Hen-”

“I need you to come pick me up, now.”

It isn’t hard to convince the school nurse, who’s more worried about when she can slip away to sneak her next cigarette than she is about doing any nursing, that she’s too sick to stay. So she’s waiting out front when Stevie’s new Jeep rockets into the parking lot, the woman of the hour flinging herself out of it before it’s fully in park.

“What happened? What’s wrong? The kids are fine right?” She’s pressing the back of her hand to Robin’s forehead, the other at her side clenching into fists as she looks over Robin’s head for any creature or person that might need to be put down.

“Everything’s fine,” she lies, “I needed to see you.”

A single eyebrow raises, Robin helped her pluck that eyebrow into that arch and now it’s being used in disbelief at her own blatant lie. “Fine,” she relents, “I’ll tell you when we aren’t standing in the middle of the parking lot, okay?”

The radio is off but so are the doors, so even as Robin refuses to talk the sound of the wind rushing past them fills the silence of the car. With no destination in mind, Stevie seems to be driving a slow meandering circuit of Hawkins.

“I overheard Patty and Molly talking about us in the bathroom today.” She says only after they’ve passed Melvalds twice with no sign of parking.

“They were talking in the bathroom about us or they were talking about us in the bathroom.”

“That’s the same sentence twice.”

“No it’s not. In the bathroom or in the bathroom.” The emphasis is nonsensical, but after a second it clicks.

“They were in the bathroom. I guess I was also in the bathroom but it was definitely not about our bathroom conversation.”

“What were they saying?” Stevie noses out gossip like a search dog noses out missing kids.

Robin sticks her hand out the side of the car, dancing it up and down in the wind like a wave. Letting the force of it glide up and over her like she wishes she could just get over whatever it is that has her so upset. Gossip and rumor that she knows isn’t true.

“Technically you got to be two characters. They think we know each other from the psych ward because boy you got me pregnant and when you died I lost the baby and went crazy.”

Her seatbelt catches her hard against the chest, forcing the air out of her lungs. Stevie’s hit the brakes so hard that the smell of rubber is in the air, uncaring that they’re in the middle of a main road. She’s just looking at Robin with something, disbelief or outrage, maybe a little bit of that rage she gets when her people have been hurt.

“Patty said that? Patty Taylor? Patty with the retainer breath whose lipgloss makes it look like she’s always drooling on herself, Patty?”

A nod is enough answer for Stevie to let out a little humph, setting her eyes back to the road and easing them into drive like they’d just been caught by a stray redlight.

“What?”

She shakes her head, gazing around the upcoming turn like they don’t both know it’ll be the rundown place that used to be Benny’s. It’s going to be something mean, something she’s worried will make her sound too much like the person she used to be.

As far as Robin is concerned whatever it is won’t be any different than when she swung that phone at that Russian guard. Or crashed that car into Billy’s. It’s all just different ways of helping to protect the people she loves that aren’t as good at protecting themselves.

“Tell me,” she insists, wheedles even. “Whatever it is I won’t tell anyone else. It’s time honored girl code you have to tell me.”

“Girl code?”

“I’ll mimeo you a copy of the handbook, tell me. It’ll make me feel better.”

Stevie’s sigh is audible over the wind rushing past them, her side eye not bad enough that Robin is at all worried about it. “I just think it’s funny that she’s passing judgment on you and your possible pregnancy when everyone knows she’s banned from the U of I campus because she went streaking to impress a guy that wasn’t even interested in her. The only reason she doesn’t have an arrest record for it is because her dad is a former professor or donor or something and threatened funding if the Dean pressed charges.”

“Oh my god, really?”

“Totally, the guy was on the basketball team. He came back and told everyone when he came home for the pre-season kegger.”

She grabs Stevie’s hand off the gearshift, holds it just because she can. Relishes in the closeness the two of them can have now that she’s back and everything is better again. “You are the strongest woman I know, all this knowledge and you just keep it to yourself all the time.”

She snorts, squeezing Robin’s hand, “I literally don’t, I just told you something. Pretty sure that’s like if I had the nuclear launch codes or something and I gave them out to just one person because they’re having a really bad day.”

“Oh! Do you remember doing those stupid duck and cover drills in elementary school?”

“Oh that's really nice of you, Mrs. Buckley, but Aunt Claudia is expecting me home for dinner.” Stevie's voice calls from outside the door, only a surprise because they didn't have plans to hang out today.

She scrambles from her bed, the wire on her headphones tangling around her neck until the weight of her walkman drags them off her. Flinging the door open she's just in time to save her best friend. “Thanks for bringing her up, Mom, we’re just gonna hang out in my room til Steph has to leave, okay?”

Shoving Stevie toward the bed before her Mom has a chance to say anything else, Robin at least smiles before she shuts the door in her mother’s face.

“What happened?”

Stevie is digging through her jewelry box, has a ring Robin picked up at a garage sale because it looked cool and didn’t think about trying on, and doesn’t bother looking ashamed at being caught snooping. “Why does something have to be wrong?”

She slips the ring on her finger, the gold band and mossy green stone looks better on her than it would have Robin. “You can keep it if you admit something happened.” Stevie starts to raise an eyebrow, but it halts half way up her forehead when Robin gives the Family Video vest she’s still wearing a tug.

Her smile goes lopsided, tilts too high on one side before she wanders over to flop down on the bed. “I, maybe, did something stupid.”

Flopping down beside her, Robin swears when she lands on her walkman first. “Stupid like when you put Re-Animator in the romance section or stupid like when you tripped into the Back to the Future cutout and apologized cause you weren't wearing your glasses.”

“Stupid like I don't know, Rob, you know how at first I was pretending that I didn't know anyone when they came in right, cause I'm supposed to be new in town.”

“Like bad witness protection because they put you right back where you left.”

“Right, well I kinda forgot to do that this morning when I was working by myself?”

Looking now she can tell this is something that has had Stevie really worked up. The strands of hair at the front of her face have lost some of their beachy wave from where she's been fussing with it, pushing it back, tugging at it. Waiting for when she saw Robin again.

Sitting up from the bed, she grabs Stevie's hand in a too tight grip. “What happened? You're okay right? They didn't recognize you and do anything shitty, right?”

“Well that's the thing,” she somehow looks even more distressed, it gives Robin another clue. Stevie is afraid she's broken some unspoken rule of girlhood by doing whatever it is she's done. Which means the story will be interesting.

“So Roger came in, you know Roger right? Second stringer on the basketball team, his footwork was too slow to ever actually be any good on the court but he had an amazing three pointer as long as no one was ever anywhere near him. So he'd make a great professional HORSE player but not really going anywhere with the actual game. He came in with his girlfriend-”

“Mindy Peterson.”

“Right, and when did they even get together?” She shakes her head. “Not the point, I was flipping through the Tiger Beat that Cindy left in the drawer after her shift, cause this months Car and Driver was a total waste of money. And he wanders up, surprising me cause the bell over the door still doesn't work and I thought I was alone in there. He starts talking to me like he already knows me.”

“He was flirting with you in front of his girlfriend!”

“That wasn't flirting, he was just being friendly; and I didn't know Mindy was there, she was back in the romance section picking something out.”

“So he's flirting with you while his girlfriend is picking out something for date night.”

Stevie rolls her eyes, shoving not so gently at Robin's shoulder. “He was talking to me like he already knew me, and I do know him so I did the same. I mentioned the last game he played in, well we played in. And then he starts looking at me and I realized what I look like.”

She gestures down at herself, and Robin isn't sure if this is a compliment time or a diffuse the situation time. Stevie really doesn't look that much like she used to. Her face has softened, her hair is longer, and she's leaned into the blonde highlights that she had in the summer.

“He's all ‘Do I know you?’” She continues, and Robin laughs, it's crazy how deep she can still get her voice and even though Roger does not have anything approaching the bass that Stevie has given him. It makes the situation feel even more bizarre. “it's not like I can say, ‘What you don't recognize me from all the times I gave you advice on how to keep yourself open on offense so you could actually get a hand on the ball?’”

Robin reaches for the nail polish on her bedside table, the robin's egg blue Stevie has taken to and the taupe brown that she likes but doesn't clash with Stevie's. They both pick at their nails when they get nervous, and Stevie has definitely been nervous.

“You could have said that,” she says just to be contrary, Stevie hand held in hers it means Robin avoids the smack that would have come.

She puts blue on every finger but one, letting Stevie think as she caps the polish and grabs the taupe to finish the hand. “Hi remember me, I faked my death so I could get boobies without getting murdered in the pumpkin patch I already avoided almost dying in once. Did you know they give you a new social security number for that?”

“So what did you actually do?”

“I lied, obviously.” She blinks twice, opens her eyes wider so she looks doe-eyed and vacant. “Oh gosh, well I guess you wouldn’t remember me. I used to only come to Hawkins during the holidays to babysit my little cousin, and I always try to catch a basketball game when I’m in town. Sometimes I’d sneak out and go to the parties, but I’m shy so...”

“Oh my god, like you’ve ever been shy in your life.”

“I’m going to have to be now!” She throws her hands up, fingers spread wide to avoid accidentally smudging her fresh nails. “It’s not like I can lie my way out of admitting to sharing homeroom with someone next. I’m just lucky Roger’s never took his eyes off the bottom button of my blouse.”

“Do you remember that movie I made you watch a couple months ago, the black and white one?”

“Oh yeah, that really narrows it down.”

“Gaslight, the one with the opera singer’s niece and her new husband tries to make her think she’s crazy. We just lie until everyone is convinced that it’s the truth.”

“The truth being that Stephanie Henderson always existed?”

Eye contact isn’t easy, unless it’s Stevie. They hold each other’s gaze as the excitement bubbles between them. “Exactly,” Robin says, “and that if they think anything else, they’re crazy.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She says, but it sounds like ‘you’re on.’

“Can I be a bitch for a second?” Stevie asks. She doesn’t look up from whatever magazine she was already flipping through when Robin walked through the door. It’s too casual, too calculated.

Progress has been slow but she’s slowly getting Stevie to the point where she doesn’t feel like she has to be nice all the time just because she’s a girl. Where she still acts like the bitchy dingus she'd been before, just a happier version.

“Obviously, just let me clock in.”

When she gets back Stevie has a stack of returns that she’s working on rewinding. One thumb in her mouth as she chews at the cuticle. “So what’s-?

“If I hear one more word about Eddie the Freak, I’m going to lose it, Rob. I mean what’s he got that’s so great? I could have taken us to the All State Championships if I hadn’t gotten that last concussion saving the twerps. I’ve saved all those twerps’ lives at least two times! I was cool. I am cool! But all I get to hear these days is ‘Oh, Stevie, Eddie just did the coolest thing in the campaign today.’ ‘Thanks for the advice, Stevie, but I’m going to go with what Eddie said instead.’ ‘I know it’s your only day off, Stevie, but could you pick us up late after school? There's Hellfire today.’ ‘Stevie, since Keith actually likes you could you hold Ladyhawke for us. Oh, no we’re going to do a movie night with Eddie.’”

She’s panting slightly when she’s finished, like she’s been holding this in for weeks. With all the quotes she’s racked up she probably has been.

“You know he kicked my tray off the lunch table last week,” she encourages. She snags a box of Sour Patch Kids from the candy counter. Popping one in her mouth before waving the bag under Stevie’s frowning face. She doesn’t even have a movie turned on. Well she does, but it looks like it was one of the weekend returns Stevie wasn’t going to put on Watership Down.

“Well he’s inconsiderate,” Stevie says, digging around in the box until she finds a red one and popping it into her mouth. “Everything is all fuck the man until he’s the man in question and then he’s the only one anyone should listen to about anything. Lucas is going to make the basketball team, he’s been working really hard on it with Jay and some of the other guys on the team.”

She’s basically taken the whole box of candy at this point. Robin doesn’t even care, just watches as Stevie picks out her favorite colors and lines them up on her magazine on the counter like a sweet and sour army. Completely oblivious to the quiet devastation that’s playing out on her face. Her brow furrowed and tight when she talks about Lucas, basketball another thing Robin wonders if she’s being unintentionally left out of.

“I just know Munson’s going to turn it into some us or them thing, like it isn’t possible to like more than one thing.”

“Maybe you-”

“And maybe that’s why they’ve been so cool with all of this,” she shrugs her shoulder in place of gesturing down at herself, too busy tearing apart a lone sourpatch general, “like it was a send off before they moved on to an actual guy who can actually do something for them. That’s probably a better send off than I deserve even right, like I mean, the kind of person I used to be. Maybe I don’t get more than one happy thing.”

Robin flattens the little red and green army underneath the flat of her hand, “Absolutely not. You are not going to let a… a… a dumpster raccoon with Mrs. Goble’s mystery meat on the bottom of his stupid shoes make you think that you don’t deserve the entire world.”

“But-” Stevie tears at the cardboard of the box between her fingers, leaving little pieces of it on the floor between her feet.

“But nothing, your little shithead kids might have latched onto the first giant nerd that looked at them when they crossed through the doors of the high school like freshly hatched ducklings but you’re the coolest person they’ve ever had the chance to meet and it’s their loss if they don’t notice.”

“I mean they’re in high school so-”

“So they’ve decided to get all the stupid decisions out at the start. It’s a bold decision but maybe that will keep them from-”

“From crashing their dad’s truck into half the cars at prom?”

“I wish one of them had been yours,” she steals the last red Sour Patch from between Stevie’s fingers, popping it into her mouth before her best friend can do anything about it.

“You’re never going to pass your driver’s test, I hope you like the bus.”

“You’re going to drive me to work forever because you love me,” she drags love out as she dances away from Stevie’s slapping hands, snagging a stack of tapes to return to the shelves as she goes.

There’s no way Stevie isn’t rolling her eyes, but Robin also knows that she’ll look all soft and pleased. Knows because a yellow candy smacks hard against the copy of The Breakfast Club that’s right beside her head.

“What the hell is going on with that rabbit?”

“Pretty sure it’s proof that you should never be trusted to pick the shift movie.”

“Stevie’s being a total headcase this week, will you tell her to chill out,” Henderson delivers what Robin is going to generously call a request after cornering her between fourth and fifth periods. Cause if it isn’t a request then it’s an order or a demand, and her small friend is not going to be happy with what she has to say in that case.

“Well that depends, Dusty, why are you calling my best friend a headcase?”

He rolls his eyes at her, a trait that Stevie might put up with but Robin is not about to. “Because she’s being one, every time I try to talk to her it’s like…” he trails off. That’s probably for the best.

“It’s like all you can talk about is your new best friend Eddie? It’s like you aren’t interested in her now that you’ve got some new brother that you can hang out with instead? It’s like all she’s good for is a ride to see the boys? It’s like you can’t ask her how to talk to girls anymore or how you should do your hair because she’s not the same anymore.”

“I didn’t say that,” he shrieks, hands waving between them like he can swipe away the thousand bees that are her accusations. She feels stinging mad actually now that she’s started putting words out there for the things that she’s feeling.

“You don’t have to say it, it’s what you’ve been doing.”

“Did she say that?” Robin gently swings her locker door just shy of closed. Dustin looks younger than she thinks she’s seen him since the first time they met. Looks smaller than she’s seen him in her life. Looking up at her with big watery eyes, waiting for her to make it okay.

Stevie’s gonna be pissed if she doesn’t at least try to make it okay.

She picks each word carefully, not wanting him to feel completely off the hook, “She didn’t say it exactly like that.”

Dustin looks at the floor, his hat obscuring his face enough that she can’t tell if he’s followed through on the watery eyes to full crying. The ambiguity makes him easier to talk to for a second, now that she doesn’t have to worry about watching what his expression is doing.

“She’s still the same person who walked down the train tracks with a kid she barely knew looking for his runaway science experiment. She’s still the person who did your hair for the snowball. She’s the person who went hunting for Russian spies with you. She’s the person that would like to keep giving you terrible advice on how to date.”

His next breath is phlegmy and ragged. “It wasn’t terrible advice.”

“Right, right, your Moonchild Empress or whatever.”

Dustin hasn’t been quiet once in the entire time that she’s known him so Robin assumes the quiet means he’s done talking. Swinging her locker back open she goes back to what she was doing before he interrupted, which had, coincidentally been Stevie related. Deciding whether or not she was going to bring her copy Watership Down to work with her so Stevie could see what was up with the rabbits.

“They should meet.”

Robin had also been leaning toward introducing her to Fiver and Hazel, but she doesn't think that’s what Dustin means.

“Who should-”

“Stevie and Eddie,” he looks at her with a wide grin. An expression she recognizes from shortly before she found herself in an elevator to hell. Dustin thinks he's just had a good idea. “Stevie can see that Eddie's super cool, Eddie will stop- And once they know each other we can hang out all the time, why didn't I think of this before!”

It does occur to her that she could remind Dustin that Stevie existed before July of 1985. That she went to school here and definitely already knows Eddie, that's where half the problem comes from even. But then she thinks of how much fun their next sleepover will be, when Stevie has brand new things to hate and make fun of.

“Maybe you're right Dustin, maybe that is the problem.”

He pumps his fist in time with the warning bell. “This is going to be great, I can't believe I didn't already think of this.”

He's still talking to himself as he starts to scamper off to a class he's going to be late to. But she isn’t about to let him leave without making sure he took away the real lesson he was supposed to. “And pass along to your little friends that her new meds didn't lobotomize her brain or amputate her legs. She can still tell you how to talk to girls, she can still shoot a free throw, she can still show you how to change a tire after it's blown out on the interstate.”

Dustin's staying with the Wheelers, Claudia has the night shift which means she and Stevie have the whole house to themselves.

Robin is making herself at home in Stevie's room, moving extra quilts and pillows from the linen closet into a fort she's making on the floor. Because today is going to be the best bitch day in the world, once Stevie makes it home from playing chauffeur. Because today Stevie gave in and went to lunch and a movie with Dustin and his new best friend Eddie.

She keeps trying to imagine what Stevie will say. Maybe Munson dips his fries in syrup or something disgusting. Maybe he showed up to the movie in his nerd brigade shirt. Maybe he showed up thirty minutes late! And the Stevie in her head has devastating things to say about all of those things, but she knows none of them are right. She just can't manage the right amount of even toned bitchery that Stevie can, the clever double entendre that makes the person she's insulting look all the dumber for getting upset at the blatant quips.

“Did you really bike here, you weirdo? You know I would have picked you up.” Stevie's voice carries down the hallway, accented by the sound of her keys hitting the bowl by the door and her shoes getting picked up from the floor and set down in the shoe tree.

“You got that bike rack for the Jeep. I wanted to make sure it actually got some use.”

The answering laugh is the one Robin possessively thinks of as hers, a little ugly, high pitched and snorting. It makes it to the bedroom just a second before Stevies face. A face that's wearing the lipgloss with the glitter in it, the one she saves for when she's trying to impress someone or make them look at her mouth.

“You look nice?”

“Such a charmer, Rob, no wonder you've got so many girls banging down your door.” She eases herself down onto the floor beside Robin, smoothing out a buttery yellow skirt that has to be new. She knows every single item in Stevie's closet, except this skirt.

She isn't going to think about how Stevie went out shopping without her though. She'd rather focus her attention somewhere more entertaining. “How was lunch?”

Stevie fusses with the edge of her skirt, rolling the hem of it between two fingers. Her face pinking though under that she's smiling. “Ugh you wouldn't even believe Henderson was a twerp, as usual. Insisted that he had to have one side of the table to himself, ordered two milkshake flavors so he could mix them together, and of course I'm paying for the whole thing.”

“Dustin being a dweeb is old news, what else happened at lunch.”

“I mean,” she trails off, making a face Robin has never seen before. Which shouldn't be possible, she thinks she is supposed to have seen all of Stevie's faces. “Munson was a total freak, obviously. Kept calling me ‘My Lady’ and all that nerd shit. You’d think I came in with a cast with the way he opened every door and kept pulling out my chair.”

It all sounds decidedly unfreakish to Robin, in fact it sounds like Stevie finds the guy charming. She realizes with something close to horror that she does actually recognize the expression on Stevie’s face. Just not on her best friend. It’s the bashful, twitterpated expression of a girl at a sleepover trying not to admit she has a crush. An expression that might as well be a death knell, cause the only time she’s ever seen it is right before date night started beating girl’s night.

“Not that it matters, the guy doesn’t know how to take a joke,” Stevie goes on, her smile still too shy to fully bloom but no less in place. Even as she pretends that whatever this is is supposed to be some dealbreaker. “I asked him what he gets out of playing Halflings and Half-wits with the dweeb squad and I thought he was going to climb on the table right there. Ed-weird went on for like five minutes on how the gremlins are some of the best players he’s ever played with, and they're an endless fount of creativity that keeps him perpetually on his toes.”

Stevie never actually stood a chance. And if Robin had been paying attention she would have realized that.

There wasn’t anyone who loved passionate, nerdy people as much as Stevie.

Eddie Munson wore his king of the loud mouthed nerds crown with pride. And he was as obsessed with the gremlins as Stevie was

“Why are we talking about him?” She flops over until her head is in Robin’s lap, flopping one arm outside of the pillow fortress to reach under the bed. She crows, victorious, holding a jar that's pond scum brown like it’s treasure. “Had to hide this after Dust put it in his hair. Put this goop on your face and tell me about what Vickie said in band yesterday again. Cause I'm pretty sure she was dating Dan Summers last year, and he didn't really seem like the type of guy to stay with his high school girlfriend.”

It's coincidence, pure and simple, that puts her right outside O'Donnell's fourth period class. Thompson's study hall, her own fourth period, was technically across the building but everyone knew Mr. Thompson came to work on Mondays too hungover to care about attendance.

And study hall didn't have a certain wannabe friend-dater standing outside it, debating whether or not he was going to go inside.

She is still figuring out her angle of attack when it looks like he's decided he is actually going to class. Considering O’Donnell is the type to write office referral slips to kids who aren’t meant to be in her room for ‘being a distraction’ there isn’t really any time for subtlety. Still, she’s surprised by the tone of her own voice when she shouts, “Munson!”

Heads turn in the hallway, of course they do. Faces she only knows by virtue of twelve years of school watching on with a lust for future violence she recognizes from that concrete bunker. But if Munson is concerned that a girl he's never spoken to is yelling at him, he doesn't look it as he turns on both heels to face her.

He smiles first, benignly pleasant. But Stevie taught her that trick, smiling to diffuse anger or hide how she has no idea how the person talking to her actually knows her. Munson is doing both, they had two classes together last semester and she was in the orchestra for the last school musical.

The blankness eventually clears from his eyes, “Bye Bye Buckley!”

Not about to be distracted by the dumbest reference she's ever heard, and with the eyes of at least two people she can see on her, she drags Munson away from class. It's bound to be all around the school by the dismissal bell, but rumor is less important than the mission.

The girls room by the library is always abandoned. The mirrors are dingy or cracked and it always smells like cat piss for no discernable reason. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He looks around the bathroom with an inquisitive eye like the grimy bluish tile is somehow more interesting than her. “I'm not actually carrying if you were-”

He doesn't have the decency to stumble when she shoves at his chest, trying to push him back into the stall doors.

“What are your intentions with Stevie?”

“Ah yes, the mysterious cousin Henderson. Who says I have intentions?” His only saving grace is that it takes her too long to get her thoughts in order. A miasma of rants at the tip of her tongue about Stevie and how she was too good for him and any thoughts he might be having about her.

But in the time it takes to see through her friend based rage, she’s able to watch a transformation take place on Eddie’s face. The smug aloofness that had taken over his face from the moment she cornered him in the hallway washes away. Leaving behind something giddy and young, bright eyes and a flushed face. “Unless she was asking about me. You two are bosom friends, are you not Diana? That would make me Gilbert Blythe, hell of a role.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of people who wish they could break a slate over your head.”

“You’re probably right, doesn’t answer my question though. Was your dear Anne Shirley talking about me?” He scuffs a boot against the floor. Doing an impressive impression of a bashful school boy while standing in front of her in his ratted out, heavy metal glory. There are at least four chains that she can spot on his outfit right now but his face would be just as at home on Opie Taylor.

But she isn’t going to get fooled by some routine. She has something to say and she’s going to make sure she says it.

“She’s really special, Munson. She’s not some cheerleader you fuck in the woods because she wants to get back at her parents that are divorcing and you’re the scariest thing available that isn’t actually dangerous.”

“Tell me how you really feel, Buckley.” The retort seems to drag itself from his mouth on instinct. Cause the aw shucks routine he’d been giving is lying broken on the floor replaced by open mouthed shock.

“I am.” The bell rings, marking them both officially late for class. She glares him down, waiting to see if he’ll leave, effectively flinching first. He glares back. “She’s an athlete, likes sports.”

Maybe it’s wrong to list the things about Stevie that she knows Munson won’t like. But she also isn’t about to let her best friend water herself down for some stupid boy.

“Wayne will be thrilled to have someone who understands what he’s talking about. Go team.”

“She hates fantasy. Dustin loaned her his copy of Fellowship of the Ring and she gave it back when they kept singing.”

“I’m sure she’d like it if I sang them for her.”

“She isn’t going to become some demure, church mouse just because you’re around. She’s snarky and confident and, and…”

He sets a hand on her shoulder in a way that is so patronizing she wishes she were as good at being a bitch as Stevie was. But she suppresses her first instinct to bite him if only because she’s working at keeping up her record of 4578 days without biting a classmate.

“I don’t know what any of that means,” he says, “but it sounds like you and your hot best friend have been talking about me. So thanks for that intel, Bucks.”

People wearing leather and motorcycle boots shouldn’t be able to skip. The stupid hanky in his stupid pocket flaps behind him like a wagging tail as Munson leaves her in the girls room with the smell of ammonia.

Stevie has Breakfast at Tiffany’s playing on the TV when Robin makes it to work. Keith let them have most of their shifts together but drew the line at letting Stevie shut the store down to come pick her up after school. So on days where Stevie works a double, she’s stuck arriving to work sweaty and guessing at whatever movie will have ended up on the big TV.

And today she gets to catch Stevie standing in the middle of the floor, a stack of tapes in her arms, while she watches the party happening in Holly Golightly’s apartment. Audrey Hepburn swaying with her guest in the middle of the floor.

“Someone’s in a mood.”

From over her shoulder, Stevie sends Robin a look. Something loaded with dry humor and a smugness that usually means something juicy happened in the time before Robin got there.

Usually.

There’s something about the look today that feels personally directed at her.

“Well it was this or Some Like it Hot, and the stay at home moms are weird about black and white movies that aren’t the first few minutes of Wizard of Oz.”

“That’s sepia.”

“Bless you.”

Making sure Stevie can see her rolling her eyes, she heads to the back to clock in. By the time she makes it back, Stevie has the volume turned down on Holly Golightly’s romantic disasters. She’s back behind the counter, head pillowed in her hands and Robin remembers why people used to be a little scared of her popular kid cabaret. Walking up the center aisle, she feels like she’s headed straight toward a tiger with its mouth open and she’s about to put her head in there.

“So you’ll never believe what happened earlier,” Stevie taps her nail against her cheek.

“Paul Collins came in with his mistress to look at porn again?”

Humming, Stevie doesn’t say anything as Robin comes behind the counter with her. There’s a stack of tapes that need to be rewound and a roll of Be Kind Rewind stickers that need to be stuck to cases.

“Still time for that,” she says right as Robin started to think they were going to drop it. “Sally Tyler called from the payphone.”

“Sally from the basketball team?”

“Yeah,” that smile is even wider. This is almost certainly payback for the You Suck board. “I’m thinking about joining her rec team but we’ve played one-on-one in the park once or twice.”

“And she had a Family Video emergency that only you could solve?”

“Sorta. She was just really concerned, she’d heard a rumor that my best friend was dragging the guy she saw me having lunch with this weekend into the girls room.”

This is definitely payback for the You Suck board. Stevie’s looking a little too pleased with herself as she smiles at what can only be Robin’s slack jawed surprise.

“I get if you're mad,” she says and that’s all she can assume is happening, she isn’t sure how else to read what’s happening on Stevie’s face. “But-”

“Thank you.”

“I was just trying to- What?”

“Come on,” she rolls her eyes, swipes a half hearted smack to Robin’s shoulder. “I’ve been on the other side of that, you know. Well meaning friends pulling me aside to ask what my intentions are.”

“Oh my god, did she follow us in there?”

Delight makes Stevie’s eyes sparkle, “Did you actually? I love you. Did you give him hell?”

“I think he got the upperhand.”

“I think it’s all the playing pretend. The shitheads will run circles around the unprepared too.”

It seems a little too good to be true. “You really aren’t mad?”

Someone abandoned The Breakfast Club at the scene where Ally Sheedy gets the makeover. It had seemed like a stupid scene when she’d seen it in theaters, now it makes something weird pit in the bottom of her stomach. She doesn’t get the chance to hit rewind, to send Allison back in time so she can be strange and herself again, because Stevie is flipping her around and pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

“First of all,” she says into the side of Robin’s hair, “the only thing I’m even a little miffed about is you thinking I couldn’t kick Munson’s ass myself. But no one’s ever done anything like that for me before so I’m cool with letting it slide.”

“But we are acknowledging that you definitely have a thing for the guy with the rattiest hair in the school. Probably even Roane county.” Robin says, face pressed into the meat of Stevie’s shoulder.

Stevie shoves her away with a groan that Robin’s laughter is already drowning out. “Yeah, alright. He’s kind of okay I guess.”

“Such sweet words for the father of your brood.”

“He’s not the father of my anything,” she flips her hair over one shoulder, “anyway I think he gets off on it so I’m gonna keep being mean to him.”

“That was more than I wanted to know about either of you.”

“No it wasn’t, you like that I’m mean too. You get all sad faced when you think I’m trying to bury my impulses.”

For the second time today Robin is left too surprised to say anything. She’s left gaping, not that Stevie is looking at her now; too busy picking at the nail polish left on her pinky.

“I like it,” she says quietly after a moment. Robin has shut her mouth by the time Stevie looks up at her again, something soft but serious on her face. She reaches across the counter to grab Robin by the hand, melding what’s left of their coordinating manicures by linking their fingers. “You’re my number one. Even if Eddie does anything about anything, he’s going to have to compete with you.”

Neither of them move as the weight of the moment surrounds them like one of Mrs. Henderson’s quilts. Heavy and homey and right. But they are still at work and as the bell beside the door dings, and they break their silence to greet their new customer in tandem, they shrug off the heavy sincerity for something more functional. Stevie’s smile turns sly, and she tugs Robin closer while keeping an eye on the man now browsing the comedies. “You’ll never guess who came in earlier to ask if we had Nine and a Half Weeks yet.”

#stevieweek24 #stevie week #Stevie Harrington #transfem Steve Harrington #Stevie Henderson #Steve Henderson #platonic soulmates Steve and Robin #platonic Stobin #Stobin #Steve and Robin #steddie #pre Steddie #Robin POV #I was asking myself why I didn't get all 6 fics I had planned written before the week started after a month of writing #and realized this is nearly 10k cause I have chronic can't shut up disease #minimum 2 more coming at you this week get hype

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chillinglyadventurous · 3 months ago

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Never Yours Part 2

Thank you to @crossxskies and @thefandomdiaries07 for requesting a part 2. I can’t make any promises that there will be a part 3, but I can indulge a part 2.

Part 1 > Part 2

The months slipped by, each day a little softer than the last. You and Stan settled into a rhythm, a quiet, comforting balance that made the ache of Ford’s absence fade a little. Stan was always there, his humor sharp but warm. His presence was steady and grounding. You started to realize how deeply you were coming to care for him, not just as a friend or a partner in shared grief, but as something more.

Yet, every time you felt yourself inch closer, a nagging doubt would rise up, twisting in your chest. Was this real? Were you falling for Stanley because of who he was or were you clinging to him because he looked so much like Ford? You hated yourself for even thinking it, but the questions haunted you. He was good, too good, and he didn’t deserve to live in your heart beneath his brother’s shadow.

One night, after closing up the newly opened Murder Hut for the evening, you found yourself standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching as Stan prepared a late-night snack. His sleeves were rolled up, his focus was intense as he buttered a slice of bread, muttering to himself about the perfect ratio of peanut butter to jelly. You couldn’t help the smile on your face. This was Stan, through and through, a little rough around the edges, but endlessly charming in his own way.

As if sensing your gaze, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “What are you staring at? My culinary genius in action?”

“Something like that,” you laughed, shaking your head.

But, as you held his gaze, that familiar doubt crept back and it must have shown in your expression because Stan’s smirk faded. He set down the butter knife, his brow furrowing.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on up there?” He asked, tapping a finger to his temple in a gentle tease. “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world.”

You bit your lip, hesitating. “I, I don’t know, Stan. Sometimes I wonder-“ The words felt heavy, but you forced them out. “I falling for you or am I just clinging to a piece of Ford?”

The silence that followed was thick. Stan’s expression shifted, hurt flickering across his face before he managed a small, understanding nod. “I’ve thought about that too,” he admitted, his voice low. “I’m not blind. I know how much you loved him.” He swallowed, looking away as if gathering his thoughts. “I know how hard it is, carrying that kind of hurt around. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t worry about the same thing.”

He let out a shaky breath, running a hand over his face. “But I’m not Ford. I don’t want to be a stand-in for him. If what’s between us is just some kind of way to make the pain go away-“ He trailed off, his eyes meeting yours again, vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. “Then tell me. I can take it.”

The weight of his words settled over you, filling the silence. You realized then that what you felt for him was complicated, layered, tangled up in grief and affection. As you stood there, taking in the way he looked at you, not with expectation, but with patience, waiting for you to decide, you felt something shift inside.

“I know you’re not Ford,” you whispered, stepping closer, your hand reaching out to touch his. “You’re you, Stanley, and maybe it took me a while to see that, but I do. I see you.”

He closed his hand over yours. The vulnerability faded, replaced by that familiar warmth, the glimmer of hope. “It’s okay if you’re still hurting,” he said softly. “It’s okay if some part of you is still holding onto him. I’m not asking you to forget any of it. I just want to be here, however you need.”

“You’re the only person who’s ever seen me, Stanley,” you smiled. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled you close. Behind his eyes, certainly yours as well, was a hint of distrust. “If I ever make you feel like a stand-in,” you said against his chest, “tell me and I will fix it.”

His face buried itself in your hair. His grip tightened around you. “Are you saying you want to give us a shot?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “that’s exactly what I’m saying.

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #ford pines #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanley pines #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader #stan pines #chillinglyadventurousfics

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leth-writes · 6 months ago

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Hello, could I request the wolf pack (separately) or just paul (twilight)? Whichever you prefer x reader who has reader dirty humor like 9 times out of 10, it just sounds like they're flirting because of all the dirty jokes they make. I just think it would be funny to see how they would react if reader did this in front of the rest of the pack would they be smug or embarrassed.

Thanks for your time

Hello, my dear anon!

Paul ADORES when you make dirty jokes. He thinks you’re the funniest person he’s ever met, you’ve practically got him rolling on the floor. Especially loves when they’re aimed at him, and always has something funny to respond with.

Always responds with the most groan-worthy puns. Just some highlights:

You must be peanut butter because you're making my legs feel like jelly.

Baby, if you were a fruit you'd be a fine-apple.

I thought happiness started with an H, so why does mine start with U?

I hope you know CPR 'cuz you just took my breath away.

When you say something like that to Paul in front of Sam, he groans and rolls his eyes, but a particularly observant person might notice a slight smile. He’s happy Paul found someone so alike him, he knows Paul was worried his imprint wouldn’t really understand him.

Jacob gets kinda irritated. He hates the concept of imprints, and if he doesn’t have one of his own, can be harsh to those with the bonds. Don’t worry about him.

Embry groans and smiles, similar to Sam. He loves seeing the two of you so happy and can only hope his imprint and him have such a wholesome relationship when they meet.

Quil laughs as well. He finds it hilarious, really enjoys your sense of humor. He may not have a dirty sense of humor, but he really likes those stupid puns.

Seth blushes. He isn’t used to hearing these kinds of jokes, everyone treats him like a kid even though he’s 19 now. He’s probably got Quil covering his ears and laughing at his reaction.

#twilight x reader #seth clearwater x reader #quil ateara x reader #embry call x reader #jacob black x reader #sam uley x reader #paul lahote x reader #lethwrites

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year ago

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Like it’s 1999 - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collaboration with the peanut butter to my jelly @munson-blurbs ✨

Summary: Your first New Year’s Eve as Eddie’s girl comes with meeting all his old friends at the Harrington’s party. It turns out to be great fun, but losing track of time leads you to miss out on something you’ve been looking forward to.

Note: Wishing a Happy New Year to all of you lovelies!

Warnings: older!eddie, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, talk about shitty parents (gee, I wonder who)

Words: 4.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Walking up to the Harrington house shouldn’t be as daunting as it feels right now. You work here three days a week, bringing Ryan and Luke over to babysit the Munson and Harrington clans together. But you’re not coming here to work today; you’re coming for the New Year’s Eve party Steve and Nancy are throwing.

The house is now filled with friends and family of the Harrington’s, most of whom you haven’t met. And of the ones you have met, it’s only been a handful of times or in passing since you started babysitting for the Munsons. You’ve been lucky enough to become acquainted with Steve and Nancy over the past months and feel honored enough to call them not just your boyfriend’s friends, but your friends now as well. Max and Lucas will be here and the handful of times you’ve met them have been nice. You’ve had entertaining conversations with Max and even got to spend time with their daughter Tiffany a few times.

Dustin is another of Eddie’s friends who you’ve seen here and there, but never for long periods of time since he lives too far away to visit regularly. He’s bringing his new girlfriend, Jennifer, tonight, who Eddie has said is great, but this is the first time you’ll be meeting her. And she is just the first one on the list of people you’ll be meeting tonight for the first time.

Nancy’s little brother Mike and his wife El will be here tonight and you’re just hoping that Mike is as easy to talk to as his sister is. A high school friend named Will is bringing his boyfriend named Cody, but you at least are in the same boat with Eddie on this one because he hasn’t met Cody yet either. And then there’s Robin and Vickie, who you’ve been told have been together since high school. Luckily, Eddie has assured you that Robin can do enough talking for the both of you, so not to worry about any awkward conversations—well, ones with awkward silences, anyway.

Your slightly uncomfortable, yet enviably cute shoes click as you come to a stop in front of the Harrington’s door. Eddie’s hand squeezes yours and the feeling of his larger hand holding yours so safely has some of your anxiety abating. Eddie had known the moment you two had received the invitation that you would be nervous about this. He left the choice up to you if you wanted to attend or not. Being with Eddie meant getting to know those who are important to him, though. A little discomfort is nothing when you think about it like that.

“We can go, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you now that you’re at the literal threshold of the party. “We don’t have to do this.”

You don’t have to do this is what you know he means.

With as much fake courage as you can muster, you shake your head and give Eddie the best smile you can manage. “I want to.”

And you do. It’s certainly better than the party your friends from school invited you to tonight. Being in a crowded and smoky bar where you can barely hear yourself think is not your idea of fun. It’s really just an excuse to find someone to kiss at midnight, then take home for some fun for the next few hours until someone gets kicked out and is forced to do the walk of shame. Not something you’d ever been interested in, really. Besides, why be there when you can be with Eddie?

Your boyfriend knocks on the door and a few moments later a grinning Steve opens it, sporting a pair of novelty “2000” eyeglasses, his hazel brown eyes peering out from the second and third zeroes. There’s music coming from the living room, and you can smell the different hors d'oeuvres that must be set out around the party area. Conversations and laughter float down to the door as well and the prospect of joining in on that makes your tummy do a little flip.

“Hey, Munson! Lady Munson! Come on in.” Steve’s clearly already gotten into the alcohol.

Eddie ushers you into the house before him and helps you out of your jacket. Steve takes both of your coats and hangs them in the closet near the front door. The host leads you further into the house and to the room where adults are milling about, glasses of different colored liquor in most hands, and smiles on almost every face. Stepping into this room without any of the children feels odd. This is where you usually wait with the younger ones while the big kids finish up their homework. Part of you wishes the kids were there because they’re always good to use as a bit of a buffer if you need one in social situations.

Tonight, all Munson and Harrington children are having sleepovers at a grandparent’s house. The Harrington girls are staying with Nancy’s parents, while the boys are with Steve’s. Ryan and Luke are spending the night at Wayne’s, as it’s one of his few precious nights off.

“You don’t mind that your New Year’s Eve plans are watching the boys?” Eddie had asked.

“Plans? Only plan I have is to take advantage of the night off and get as much sleep as I can.”

“Eddie and the lovely lady that is far too good for him have arrived,” Steve announces to the room. Your cheeks heat up at Steve’s words, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and pushes his friend out of his way.

It feels like every eye in the room lands on you and it’s making your nerves creep back up. Not everyone is looking at you, you try to assure yourself, but the jitters have settled in and have you feeling self-conscious. What if they don’t like me? you think. These people are practically Eddie’s family. I need them to like me. They’re going to think I’m not good enough. That I’m too young. Too stupid. That I’m just some young girl Eddie decided to have a fun fling with after getting divorced—

Max comes over to your side and it shakes you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Hey!” The redhead greets. “It’s so nice to see you again.” She pulls you in for a hug that has your anxious thoughts starting to abate.

“You too!” you say. “How’s Tiffany?” Can't seem to stop talking about the kids, can you?

“She’s great. Talking and walking now, so a complete handful. Oh!” Max catches the attention of a woman about her height with chin length brown hair who stops and smiles at you. “Have you met El?”

“Nice to meet you.” El timidly but kindly extends her hand and you shake it, beginning an evening of greeting new and familiar faces.

By the end of your first lap of talking with everyone, you’re pretty sure you remember everyone’s name, but not necessarily how they all relate to one another—-except Mike. The way he and Nancy bicker at one another occasionally keeps it fresh in your mind that he’s her little brother. Not to mention, the drunker Steve gets, the more he begs Mike to call him ‘big bro.’

“You know,” Robin says, nudging Eddie’s arm with her own, “I don’t think we’ve all been together for New Year’s Eve since ‘92.”

Eddie thinks for a moment, rubbing a hand over his mouth and chin. “God,” he says with a laugh. “That was before Luke.”

“And Corroded Coffin performed!” Dustin adds, flashing a smile that seems to be missing a few teeth.

“You ever see your boyfriend being a rockstar?” Lucas asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

That certainly piques your interest. “I have not.” You turn to Eddie with a giddy smile on your face.

Sheepishness pinkens Eddie’s cheeks. “I wasn’t a rockstar,” he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Max almost chokes on her vodka cranberry and lets out a scoff. “Since when are you modest?” she asks with a cocked brow.

Eddie narrows his eyes at Max and opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt first. “Eddie, shhh, I wanna hear about my rockstar boyfriend!” you tease. “Did you have lots of groupies?”

He groans but drapes his arm over your shoulders as his friends begin to tell you about the band.

“I don’t even like metal, but they were good,” Robin pipes up from where she’s pouring herself another drink.

“They were weekly regulars at this bar,” Dustin explains. “They would sneak us in because we were too young to get into the bar.”

“Actually,” Max says, turning to Eddie, “so were you.”

Eddie shrugs. “I never questioned it.”

“Anyway,” Dustin continues, practically shaking with excitement, “they could play any metal song you could think of. He learned Master of Puppets in a week, and that song is like twelve minutes long.”

“It’s only eight,” Eddie protests, but his friend ignores him completely.

“Whatever. The point is, Corroded Coffin was probably the best band this town has ever seen, and it’s all because of Eddie.” He nudges him with an elbow to the ribs. “Hey, do the move!”

Eddie coughs, face fully red. “Henderson, I don’t know what you’re—”

“Yes, you do, because you’re totally blushing right now.” Dustin cackles, turning to you. “It was like this hip thrust thing, but to his guitar—”

“Okay, enough!” Eddie’s face is beet-red, burying his head in his hands. Dustin starts in again, but a glass drops in the kitchen, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Eddie Munson,” you murmur in his ear, taking advantage of this moment alone, “did you go on stage and hump your poor guitar?” Before he can respond, you tug him by his belt loop. “Can I get a private show later?”

He smirks. “Only for you, baby girl.”

As it typically goes at parties, people mingle around, always popping in and out of different conversations throughout the evening. You and Max sit on a loveseat off to the side of the room, watching Steve, Eddie, Lucas, and Will take shots. The pair of you shake your heads as you observe the men, watching in amusement as Will tries to pour more shots for everyone, no matter how much they decline.

Max isn’t quite drunk but is definitely past tipsy.

“How are you feeling hanging around with this ragtag bunch of weirdos?” she asks once the entertainment of watching the men has worn off.

You chuckle and shake your head. “It’s not as scary as I thought it would be, honestly. And I definitely wouldn’t call you guys weirdos.”

Max pauses, biting her cheek. “It’s really nice to see Eddie with someone who actually appreciates him. Who genuinely loves him, y’know.” She lowers her voice. “I’m not trying to turn this into a bitching session about his ex, but—”

“I am!” More than a few drinks in, Nancy slings one arm over your shoulder and the other around Max’s. The scent of vodka wafts from her mouth. “God, she was the worst! I don’t even know what he saw in her.” She wrinkles her nose. “She wasn’t even that pretty. Like, yeah, maybe a little bit, but not enough to make up for being a total hag!” She cackles like it’s the funniest joke in the world.

Your mind flashes back to how beautiful Brittany actually is, but Nancy’s true drunk feelings warm your heart.

“Yeah, she’s definitely a piece of work,” you say with a humorless chuckle.

“Oh honey,” Max says, “we all know that’s the understatement of the century. She’s a grade A bitch and any time you want to shit talk her, you’ve got a house full of people here ready to chime in.”

“Really?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. “Everyone here hates her?”

“Well, I’m not sure if Cody or Jennifer ever met her, but everyone else, yeah,” Max says with a shrug.

A warmth blooms in your chest. Even though you know Brittany is horrific, and Eddie knows it as well, it’s different to hear it from an outside source. His friends could see the relationship from another perspective, and it seems they came to the same conclusion: Brittany is a spawn of satan. It’s validating and it also makes everyone’s kindness tonight mean that much more to you.

“One time,” Nancy slurs as she perches herself on the arm of the loveseat, “the four of them were gonna drive to Lake Michigan for a long weekend. Luke was only like…I dunno, maybe 18 months? Anyways, poor little thing had a cough, so Brittany took him to the doctor. She comes home and tells Eddie that Luke’s got the sniffles and they’re all good to go. Turns out, Luke had goddamn pneumonia, but she didn’t want it to ruin her getaway.”

The outrage that is coursing through your veins has you gripping your glass so tightly that you start to lose feeling in your hand.

“How have none of you killed her?” you ask, making sure to keep your voice even when you really want to scream.

“Cause that moron,” Max says, nodding across the room at Eddie, “hadn’t come to his senses yet. Or at least, hadn’t let us know that he had.”

“Thank God he found you,” Nancy says. “For him and the boys.”

“I thank God I found them,” you say, the alcohol you’ve had making you a little more sentimental than usual. Though it’s something you always feel, it’s not something you’d always say out loud to people that aren’t Eddie.

Across the house, the guys are having their own little meeting. Steve leans against the counter in an attempt to look mysterious and suave, but his swaying gait gives away his inebriated state.

“Munson, could you stop staring at your girlfriend for two seconds and help me with this tray?” he asks, fumbling with a platter of cheese cubes and crackers.

“Huh? What?” Eddie stutters, Steve’s words registering after a beat. Heat creeps up the back of his neck: caught red-handed.

Will slings his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him close enough that Eddie can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Aww, you found your Cody!” Will coos.

Eddie’s nose scrunches in confusion. “I’m not following, Byers.”

Will rolls his eyes as though this is obvious information that Eddie should already know. “You found someone who makes you feel happy and warm and loved. Someone you wanna marry someday.” He waggles his eyebrows.

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie tries to play it cool; inside, butterflies flutter in his stomach. Marrying you? Sounds like a dream, one that he’s not sure will ever come to fruition.

Will is undeterred by Eddie’s sudden shyness, doubling down on his statement. “Hey, listen,” he drunkenly slurs, “I don’t need to be into women to know that she,” he points to you, “is a total upgrade from, well,” he lowers his voice, “y’know.”

Dustin swoops in, sensing that the conversation might nosedive from playful banter to pure discomfort. “Okay, let’s get you some water.” He leads Will away, shushing him as they walk.

Eddie takes a swig of beer, grateful that the interrogation is over, but then Steve gently adds, “Not to focus on the ex or anything, but you really do seem…I dunno, more like yourself lately. In a way that you didn’t with Brittany.”

“Is that a good thing?” He’d like to think so, but his insecurities often cloud his judgment like a dense fog.

Steve laughs. “Despite my better judgment, yeah. It is.” He claps him on the back. “She’s a keeper, dude. Don’t fuck it up.”

Eddie chuckles and gives a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll try not to.”

Both men look up as they hear footsteps approaching them. Eddie’s brow furrows in concern when he sees tears in your eyes as you walk up to him. He reaches out a hand and you place your smaller one in his.

“What’s got you all upset, Sweetheart?”

You’re too tipsy to properly articulate your emotions after talking with Max and Nancy about how lucky the two of you are to have found each other, so you just murmur, “you.”

Steve laughs and scratches the back of his head. “Guess I spoke too soon.”

You let your hand fall from Eddie’s so you can snake your arms around his middle. Letting your eyes fall closed, you rest your head against your boyfriend’s chest.

“I love you so much,” you mumble.

“I love you too, princess,” Eddie says against your hair before pressing a few kisses there.

Steve can’t help but smile at the interaction between the two of you. It’s so nice to see his best friend in a relationship where he’s appreciated and loved for who he is. The way you both look at one another leaves Steve with no doubt about how happy you make each other. Wanting to give the two of you your privacy, Steve quietly slips away.

Joy buzzes in your stomach, only amplified by the alcohol in your system. You lift your head from Eddie’s chest and lean up to press your lips against his. The kiss is soft and sweet, with no urgency. When the two of you finally part, your boyfriend chuckles and licks over his lips.

“Had vodka, huh?” he asks.

“Do I taste like it?” You giggle. “You taste like beer. And a little like rum.”

“That’s ‘cause I had a shot of rum and have been nursing my beer for an hour,” he says, fingers tracing patterns over the soft fabric of your sweater covering your back.

“‘N you’re not drunk,” you state.

“I’ve got a pretty high tolerance, baby. Plus, need to be able to drive us home later. Got some precious cargo right here,” he says as he pulls your body up against his. “Are you having fun?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, grinning as you think about the good time you’re having with Eddie’s old friends. “I like your friends. Will’s funny.”

“Will is plastered,” Eddie says with a chuckle.

Before you get a chance to respond, Robin is tugging on your arm and whining about how you can kiss Eddie anytime. Eddie reluctantly lets you go, playfully rolling his eyes as you’re pulled away. It makes you giggle before taking control of your own feet again and following Robin toward an empty spot on a couch.

Robin asks you about school, how you like it, what classes you’re taking next semester, and what you’re studying. At first, it seems like these are generic questions that someone asks of a college student, which confuses you because you’d thought you and Robin would be past that stage by now. But as she keeps talking, Robin reveals that she’s been thinking about going back to school and wants to know more about what it's like. Once you know that, you’re able to give her more detailed information about what it's like on campus rather than give the stilted, robotic answers you tend to give when asked the basic questions.

Vickie slips into your conversation at some point, followed by Mike, Dustin, and Jennifer. Your drink keeps getting refilled to where you’re not sure how much you’ve had to drink by the time the conversation peters out. The only thought that can get any traction in your brain is how badly you need to use the bathroom after drinking so much.

You excuse yourself from the group and make your way towards the hallway where the kids’ rooms are. This area of the house is as familiar to you as the back of your hand from working here so much, which is a good thing as you stagger with next to no coordination. Once the bathroom door is shut behind you, it takes all of your concentration to focus on what you have to do. That leaves no brain power to pick up on the cheering that’s coming from out in the living room.

Out amongst his friends, Eddie’s asking where you are, and Vickie is the one to tell him that she saw you headed towards the bathroom. Eddie thanks her and heads towards the back of the house, eager to get to you as the time until midnight shrinks by the second. Your boyfriend turns the corner and is about to knock on the bathroom door when he sees that it’s wide open. He pokes his head inside and it looks like the room hasn’t been touched the whole evening. Realization hitting him, Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his face.

“God damn it, Harrington. Why is your house so big?”

He makes his way back towards the front of the house, figuring out that you must be using the bathroom in the front hallway, the one you’d be most likely to use when you’re here watching the kids. The buzzing house makes it difficult for Eddie to navigate his way to you as quickly as he wants, knowing how upset you’ll be if you miss your midnight kiss. Eddie swears under his breath as he looks down at his watch and it tells him it’s 12:01. Finally arriving at the right bathroom, he knocks on the door.

It swings inward and you step out, grinning when you see Eddie there.

“Hi!”

Even in his frustration, Eddie can’t help but smile at your excitement at seeing him—alcohol-fueled or not.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, taking your hand and pulling you close to his chest. “It’s after midnight.”

“No, it’s not,” you say with a shake of your head. “Cause at midnight we gotta kiss.”

“We missed it, princess,” he tells you, keeping his voice soft.

It takes your brain longer than normal to process his words, but once it does, a frown pulls at your mouth and your eyes get wide. Eddie shouldn’t think it’s as adorable as he does.

“It’s my fault,” you say. “I-I was in the bathroom. I didn’t know what time it was!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, wrapping both of his arms around you. He rubs his hand up and down your back, soothingly. “It’s not your fault. “I tried to come get you and I was late, too.”

“We missed our first New Year’s Eve kiss.” With a whine, you bury your face in Eddie’s chest as tears begin to fall. Strong arms hold you tightly and the weight of Eddie’s head rests against the top of your own.

“Do you want to go back out to the party?” Eddie asks after a few minutes of just holding you.

Sniffling, you shake your head.

“M’sorry, Eddie.”

“Hey.” Eddie cups your face in his hands and tilts your head up. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You and I are going to have New Year’s kisses together for the rest of our lives. And I plan on kissing you every day for the rest of forever, even after we’re dead.” Eddie feels the tightness in his chest lessen as you let out a small giggle at his joke. “So, one late kiss is nothing, sweetheart.” He leans in and presses his lips gently against yours, trying to convey the love and adoration he has for you as he cradles your face. When you pull back, Eddie raises his eyebrows at you in question—did that help?

Much to Eddie’s relief, you nod and wipe your eyes. They’re still sore and puffy, but that will fade. Plus, that’s easy to blame on alcohol consumption.

“Do you want to go home?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head.

“We can stay a little longer,” you say.

“We don’t have to.”

“Wanna have more fun with you.”

That has a small smile growing on your boyfriend’s face.

“I like the sound of that.”

The party winds down now that midnight has passed, and you and Eddie stay for a little while longer. As guests start to leave, you find yourself mingling with everyone and sharing last laughs with his old friends. Eventually, you and Eddie bid those who haven’t left yet goodnight and head back to his apartment.

By the time you arrive home, it’s almost one in the morning. Eddie tosses his keys down on the counter while you shuffle into the kitchen for a glass of water. Sleepily, Eddie follows in behind you but perks up with a smile when he glances at the clock.

“Hey, princess?”

“Hmm?”

“C’mere.”

Body just going through the motions in your tired state, you put the glass down and Eddie tugs you up against his body.

“It’s almost one,” he whispers.

“Okay,” you say, though it sounds more like a question.

“It’s about to be the New Year in the next time zone. So, if we kiss at one, I think that counts as a New Year’s kiss. Don’t you?”

Understanding fights its way through your hazy brain until it clicks. A small smile lights up your face as you nod.

“That sounds like a good plan to me.”

Eddie turns his head to look at the clock on the wall, the second hand racing around towards the nine. Your eyes track the ticking of the thin black line as well, holding your breath as you wait for the hour to strike.

Just as the second hand lands on the twelve, Eddie tilts your chin up and catches your lips with his own. A warm and fuzzy feeling that has nothing to do with your drinking envelops your body as you wrap your arms around his neck. Eddie’s hands rest firmly on your waist, holding onto you as if his life depended on it.

When you part, you rest your foreheads against one another’s. The small, dark apartment shrouds the two of you in shadow, only a sliver of the moon shining in the window giving you enough light to see each other by. The night is quiet around you, no movement breaking the peace as you and Eddie simply gaze into one another’s eyes.

“Happy New Year’s, baby.”

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