multimagicbabe - Tumblr blog

multimagicbabe · 1 year

Text

left behind (snippet of part two)

This is only a snippet of the second part. I am incredibly sorry for the amount of time I’ve been gone. Life has been hectic and each time I attempted to write, it was cut short. This snippet cuts off a little abruptly but fear not, I will be uploading the finished product later this week.

As always, the gif below is not mine and belongs to the creator.

The gloomy, gray, and red sky matched the undertone of your dread, uneasiness settling into the pit of your stomach, causing the discomfort of a nauseated belly to bloom. Despite the closeness of the spring, nature coming back to life, and snow melting away, Hawkins was entirely different from the world. It was a never-changing season of ashes falling, grass and trees withering away, dark and red clouds looming over the sky with no hope for a return of the shade of blue everyone had loved dearly. A wind chill swept through the town but eventually became mixed with the searing heat that seeped through the cracks of the ground no one dared to fix. The sign “Welcome to Hawkins” was illuminated by the lights of your car, and upon seeing the population status, you could only assume it was wrong and remained unchanged.

After the defeated battle with Vecna, numerous citizens fled in fear, cramming the highway and causing long hours of delay. That panicked people more in their already vulnerable states, and many laws were broken in their attempt to escape whatever hell was brought upon them. Fight or flight mode kicked in for the individuals, and you couldn’t blame them for wanting to evade the possibility of their lifeline ending; after all, you fled yourself. You were no hypocrite, and as much as you knew you’d miss everyone, the pain and suffering needed to end for you to move on with your life; otherwise, you didn’t think you could make it out alive.

When you departed, your friends and family mainly understood your stance, wanting to leave but couldn’t bring themselves to do so. Some were happy for you, congratulating you on your acceptance to the college of your choice, and managed to throw together a goodbye party, but others…not so much. It hurt to think of his name; Steve was taken aback predictably, although his actions were unexpected and hurtful. He wasn’t pleased to see you follow your dreams, but instead, he falsely presumed you’d stay to recuperate and help fight against the evil that hid in the shadows. Steve, the bravest and most courageous man you’d ever met, felt the need to continue the fight and disregard the plentiful protests of his friends. The loss of victory was a hard pill to swallow, an even harder one once the death of a friend that occurred was announced.

Eddie Munson was your friend, best friend even. He made you forget the truth about the town you both lived in, and you reveled in his presence. The secret was stashed away in your mind when you were around the rambunctious and unrelenting man, long forgotten in the deepest depths of your mind. The death of Eddie took a toll on you and as you briefly closed your eyes, the memories flashed through your mind. Frequently, the flashes of Eddie that are embedded in your memory grasped the reality of life and left you hallucinating. You believed it was PTSD that caused it, but had no desire to get any help for it. How could you describe the events that altered the chemicals in your brain? No one would believe you; they would throw you into an asylum and lock away the key. You’d have to learn along the way how to resolve the problem, as for now though, you’d let the suffering close over you.

Your dad's house came into view in the distance finally, the sun setting you thought but knew peeking at the sky, you wouldn’t be able to tell what time of day it was until nighttime came around. The clock read 6:56 pm and you sighed. You’d hoped for more time with your family, but on the way here, you were consumed by multiple panic attacks. You’d forgotten your medicine behind that helped those panic attacks, the green, but freeing plant you could very well get here but without Eddie…you just couldn’t trust anyone else. Weed was your only solution to your anxiety, helping the illness be kept at bay. You’d managed to keep the stash Eddie had on him, taking it off of his uncle’s hands so he wouldn’t get into any trouble. Originally, Wayne didn’t want you to take it, stating you’d get arrested if caught with the pile of drugs hidden in the box Eddie kept it in and he almost succeeded in persuading you not to gain ownership over it, but you’d told him you were going to sell it. It had been a lie, of course, though he didn’t need to know that.

The only part of the stash that you had left over was the marijuana. You had managed to stretch the drugs out evenly for the time while you searched for another dealer, but no one ever came around. Getting another dealer felt like a betrayal to your best friend, so you made sure to make the rest of the stash last for the time being. You were not a drug addict, only toed the line of addiction until you’d stop for a while to gather the strength left to fight your inner demons. You were relatively new to the other drugs Eddie had in the box, taking or smoking little amounts to get you buzzed and then setting it aside. As long as you felt intoxicated, no matter how little or big it felt, it worked in keeping the thoughts at bay. You didn’t find the joy in the drugs you were not used to, only taking/smoking them as a way to relieve yourself and you found that you much-preferred weed among them. Your drug of choice was kept to the side, wanting to leave your favorite for last, but also not wanting to smoke it as it felt daunting and devastating to smoke the weed you shared with Eddie. You were fine, you kept repeating that mantra in hopes it’d make the emotions fade and become true.

The tires squealed to a stop underneath you, right hand pausing at the gear shift and then pulling it into park. Your duffle bag rested in the backseat holding your belongings including your wallet. You told yourself you’d come back for it and grabbed your keys to pull them out of the ignition, unbuckling your seatbelt with the other unoccupied hand. Lights were on in the rebuilt cabin, lights that almost seemed too bright and allowed you to get a glimpse of the family you left behind.

Your dad was behind the stove, cooking dinner and Joyce embraced him from behind with a wide smile on her face indicating the happiness she felt. From where you sat, Eleven and Will were nowhere to be seen, assuming they’d either gone out to hang with the rest of the group of kids or retired to their rooms. The house was lively, joy radiating from under the seams of the front door and you sighed. The gut feeling of not wanting to disturb the peaceful nature and churned at the sight of the kiss that was shared between the two parents, however short it was. Your being here would rock the boat filled to the brim with contentment and success at moving on from the dreadful past. Though, Eleven put on a mask around them if she was as sad as she sounded over the phone that led to you coming back. You’d told her over the phone you wanted to never come back to this town, but your love for your adopted sister overpowered that need. You couldn’t leave her behind.

The vehicle door creaked open and allowed you to step out. Locking the door after shutting it, you shoved your keys into your pocket and stared at the house in front of you. Guilt was creeping into your veins, the bubble they seem to be living in will surely be popped by your arrival. Maybe you should’ve called beforehand, and warned them of your incoming arrival to give them time to prepare for it. It was too late now, though, as you began to hold your fist up to knock.

The light raps against the door did not go unnoticed, footsteps following not too long after. You could hear Jim wondering out loud who it could be before his hand jangled the door knob. The breath was taken from your lungs once the eyes you missed fell upon yours. You didn’t know what to do; do you smile? Do you offer a hug? A friendly wave?

“Kid,” he breathed out. His eyes flickered between multiple emotions before settling on joy. His arms enveloped your body in a warm embrace, one hand on the top of your head and the other arm around your shoulders. Your arms wound their way around his torso, squeezing as tightly as he was and a pair of lips kissed your head. The embrace was short lived, Hopper stepping half a step back to take in your presence. “What are you doing back here? Is everything okay?”

The tears you attempted to hold at bay threatened to spill onto your cheeks, vision going blurry and your nose was beginning to feel stuffy. “El called. She begged me to come back and-“ you abruptly stopped. Should you be honest with him? Was it worth the concern and stress? Hopper repeated what you said, wondering what was left of your sentence. “I missed everyone,”

It wasn’t a lie, partially the truth but not entirely. The relationship you shared with your father was a supportive one, able to be honest and free but seeing how happy he was in the house with Joyce, it gave you an unsettling feeling when you thought of telling him.

“Well,” he said with a smile, “Come on in, kid. El and Will should be home soon. They’ve been at Mike’s house.” Hopper led you into the renovated home, the wonderful smell of your favorite dish wafting through the kitchen and into the living room. It was an open floor plan; kitchen and dining room opposite each other and the kitchen island faced the living room. The living room was decorated with many pictures, some with the kids or the adults only. One stood out in particular though.

Your eyes glazed over at the 5x7 wooden picture frame, two happy twelve year olds staring at you with sparkles in their eyes. You could feel the love emanating from it, sweeping your heart from the darkest depths of the hole it was in and warming it to break the ice surrounding it. One kid was hanging on the back of the other trying to get a piggy ride and the other was laughing, surprised but not shocked. The kid always enjoyed the rides on his back and often wanted them. The color of your eyes seemed brighter in the picture, a satisfying contentment that all was okay and had no idea what would happen in the next few years.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagines #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagines #hawkins #steve harrington #steve stranger things

10 notes · View notes

multimagicbabe · 1 year

Text

Hey everyone, I haven’t forgotten about this account! I’m usually not this slow but events have been reoccurring and haven’t stopped. I’m going on vacation the 24th and that means no school, no drama. I’ll be able to actually write! For now, it’s gonna have to wait till then. Thank you for being patient with me!

1 note · View note

multimagicbabe · 1 year

Text

left behind part one

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Rating: R for language

Summary: after the battle (and defeat) with Vecna, you leave to get away from the horrors that lied within Hawkins by going away to college but with the nightmares you’ve been having, you are forced to seek solace in the arms of the one person you hoped to forget.

Warnings: language, implied smut, angst

gif is not mine!

The nightmares engulfed you; a blanket of darkness and no comfort came with it. The heavy material made it feel like a weighted blanket but instead of a measly 12 pounds, it was like the weight of the world sat atop your shoulders. Grueling and vivid nightmares that pulled at your heartstrings leaving you with no focus on your schooling. You’d hoped that moving 12 hours away from your beloved hometown would give you the distraction you needed against the tormented memories of the battle. But, as life would have it, it went a different way than planned.

You felt as though you were a zombie, walking slowly through the halls of the dormitory towards your dorm and almost grunting aloud at the amount of energy it took to take a step forward. You were sure that you not only walked like one but also looked like a zombie. Despite the shower, you just had, scrubbed head to toe with soap feeling cleaner than ever, the dark circles under your eyes were most prominent right now. They made it evident you hadn’t been sleeping.

Upon arriving at your door, you unlocked it with struggle as you juggled your toiletries in one hand and the key in the other. The door unlocked, falling open and showing the bleakness of your side of the dorm. You hadn’t bothered to put any decorations up, forgoing any personal items besides your clothes and essentials. Your roommates' side was a completely different story; the plain walls were covered in multicolored posters, ranging from Blondie to Bowie, memorable polaroids of her life and family hung up alongside them in a messy way that fit perfectly in a way. Her twin-sized comforter was brightly colored with flowers decorated across the whole blanket and her sheets and pillowcases matched the comforter. The sketchbooks she owned were strewn across her bed that was made this morning indicating the roommate has not yet arrived. It wasn’t unusual she wasn’t here, especially on a Friday night.

“Thank god,” you whispered, not wanting to deal with your energetic roommate. Sarah was her name, and it wasn’t like you didn’t like her. You did, but being around someone who seems to be happy all the time became exhausting. You were actually grateful for her. Upon arrival, your nightmares were night terrors, and even though she didn’t know you personally, Sarah kept you contained during them. If you were screaming and thrashing around, she held you down and stroked your hair, shushing you and whispering encouraging words into your ears until you fell into a dreamless slumber.

Shaking your head at the disappointing memories, you briskly walked over to your small dresser that was provided by the school and set your toiletries on top in their own little basket, pulling open the top drawer to rummage through for socks. You’d forgotten them in your rush to take a hot shower before everyone else did, wanting alone time to cry freely in the streams of water allowing the loud pelting of the streams of water to mask the sobs that escaped your chapped lips. You embraced the comfort of your bed after putting on your socks and snuggled into the brown, worn, and tattered blanket you took from your house.

It was nearing dinner time, but you had no motivation to get yourself to eat. It was normal for you to skip mealtimes, always forgetting that your body needs the food to survive amid stressful college student duties. Friday night meant a break from schooling hence the number of parties that go down each Friday night. The hallways in the evenings were booming with energy, loud music on their boom boxes, and chatter between students filled the silence forgoing sympathy for those choosing to stay behind to catch up on sleep or to study for the tests they have in classes. It was no different than high school to you, the only difference being that you live on campus instead of in a home dedicated to you and your family. Despite the loud sounds coming from the hallway seeping through your walls like a ghost waltzing through, your eyelids fluttered closed.

Oxygen was taken from your lungs in a panic acting as though there wasn’t any air and you gasped, sitting up straight in your bed and inhaling as much air as you could. The nightmares were not getting better they were worsening, and your REM cycle went from 8 hours to-you checked the clock-45 minutes. Sweat glistened on your skin, clutching at the material of your clothes and your hair. You pulled roughly at your clothes, irritated and tired, ripping the thin material clean off your body and tugging at your hair to pull it from your skin. But then, the phone rang. It wobbled a little where it was attached to the wall, the ringing causing a rippling effect and it was startling.

Grumbling, you trudged to the phone, snatching it from its place and putting it to your ear. “Hello?”

The voice on the other line is weak, fragile, almost like a delicate plate when they spoke, “Y/N?”

“El?” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Your weekly calls came about on Sundays before the new week started to catch up on everything they’ve missed about each other's lives. You couldn’t leave Eleven, not when she was like a sister to you, so you came up with this compromise to continue to be in her life. Eleven had sworn not to beg her to return knowing how much you needed the space but after asking, “What’s going on?” it seemed as though she couldn’t keep her promise.

“I want you to come home,” her voice was small, weak, and the only way to describe it was she sounded like she was on the brink of tears. Your heart clenched at the sudden sniffle from the other line, your tears pricking your waterline and you clenched your jaw tightly to keep them at bay. “Please, come home.”

“I can’t, El,”

“But why not? I miss you; e-everyone misses you…Steve misses you,”

Your heart felt as if it was on a ledge, overlooking the ocean beneath it, and fell to its untimely death. The breaths knocked out of your lungs in their attempt at jumping with the other organ. A chill crawled down your spine and fabricated goosebumps along the still, sweaty skin of yours.

“Y/N?”

“No,” you said, trying to reel in a breath. “I can’t and I won’t ever come back to Hawkins. And don’t you ever say his name again, Eleven. I’m sorry,” the ‘I’m sorry’ was meant to say goodbye and you roughly placed the phone back to its rightful location on the disappointingly stark wall. Your hands trembled as you raked them throughout your hair and the uneven breaths were beginning to hurt. Your eyelids fluttered closed, and the intensity of the tears was becoming too much on you. The more you kept saying no, the more the guilt twisted your heartstrings. You wanted to say yes, you did miss everyone back at home but what awaited was something you never wanted to see again.

Vecna was undefeated, lounging around somewhere where the group couldn’t find, nor did they want to find it/him. The pain of it all was overbearing, excessive and the loss of a friend, of a partner who fought so valiantly beside everyone, arose significant fear against the true unknown. The facts of the Upside Down were terrorizing, truly upsetting and that made everyone want to cower in fear for their life considerably so. The deaths, the near life-ending experiences each person in the group has had nearly broke them, including your father.

Jim Hopper was allegedly dead. Your father was a good man, putting himself in danger and attempting to protect the lives of everyone he loves but when a certain obstacle came through, he had not made it, or that was what everyone thought for months. It was hard having to move on from the death of your father and once Joyce decided to leave for California, you asked her to take Eleven with her so she could lead an improved life. Heartbreak shattered you to pieces transitioning you into someone you could barely recognize. It made you feel hollow inside, emptiness followed you everywhere you went no matter how much you wished you could shake it off. The teachers at your high school almost didn’t allow you to graduate but by January, you knew your father would want you to graduate so you pushed yourself to make it happen for his sake.

But it came crashing down after Hawkins went to shit again. The planning, the execution, it took every ounce of energy you held inside of you to save your loved ones and to save yourself (even if you truly felt like it was your end). Was it worth it? Was your life worth living? You asked yourself that question over and over as you fought against the new villain. Despite the wins against evil, the group had been defeated. Hawkins cracked open, having been Vecna’s start to the perfect world he created in his mind. Then the best thing happened. Eleven came back, as Jane Hopper, and your father returned from where he was forced to reside with Joyce by his side. It felt like a happy ending for you but with the painful memories and the trauma occupying the streets of your hometown, the happiness did not last long so came the decision to leave.

“Shit,” you cursed. The tone of her voice and the sound of the sniffling indicating she was crying left a weight on your shoulders. You can’t deny that you missed her too and everyone else. Taking yourself out of the equation didn’t help as much as you thought it would, in fact, it made it worse in some way. Your father was over the moon when he heard you got accepted into college and gave you the push to get out but the longing in his eyes made you almost falter in your movements. Leaving him behind was the hardest, you’d just gotten him back and you were walking away but you did what you felt was best for you otherwise, you feared you’d be dead.

Deep breath in. Exhale.

There was no school on Monday and it was still Friday. By the time you reach Hawkins, it’ll be Saturday, but it’d still give you a day and a half with your family and friends. A duffel bag was hiding in the back of the closet when you searched to find it, taking it out and unzipping it. Digging through your dressers, you brought out a couple pairs of undergarments, socks, comfy pants plus one pair of jeans, and a couple of tops. The toiletries were in their spot from where you put them, and you tossed the basket into the bag. You put on a band tee and gripped onto the sweatpants you were wearing beforehand, shoving your feet into a pair of comfortable shoes. Your keys gleamed on the nightstand, the moon creating a small reflection and without hesitation, they were in your hands within seconds.

Turning around at the door, you glanced around the room to make sure you didn’t miss anything until your eyes found it; the necklace that entrapped your birthstone on a sterling silver chain. You set your duffel bag and keys down to grab onto the necklace and place it around your neck, hiding it into your jacket you’d thrown on. One more glance behind you and you left.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagines #x reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things x reader

83 notes · View notes

multimagicbabe · 1 year

Text

detroit: become human masterlist

smut®/fluff©/angst℗

connor ↲

markus ↲

kara ↲

#connor x reader #dbh connor #dbh x reader #dbh markus #dbh #markus x reader #kara x reader #connor dbh x reader #markus dbh x reader #kara dbh x reader

74 notes · View notes

multimagicbabe · 1 year

Note

eric forman and reader having their first time? :) smut lol

Yes, I’ll add this to my list! Please be aware, I’m still new at smut. If you have any recommendations, leave them below:)

1 note · View note

multimagicbabe · 1 year

Note

dating Eric Forman head cannons pls? 💕:)

Yes, of course!

Steve fic will be a two parter also guys!

0 notes

multimagicbabe · 1 year

Note

can you do a Steven Hyde imagine where the reader is Donna's cousin and she's staying with Donna, Midge and Bob while her parents are relocated for her dad's job. Reader and Hyde kind of connected almost immediately. They're always playfully insulting each other and they like the same music. One day, they're alone in the basement and one thing leads to another and they start kissing and then all of the others walk in on them and are like 🫢😧

Yes of course! This and my Steve Harrington fic will be coming out soon:)

5 notes · View notes

multimagicbabe · 1 year

Text

Intimacy

Requested? Yes/No

Pairing: Eric Forman x F!reader

Rating: M

Warnings: smut, fluff

Add on: I hated not having something out and decided to upload this. It is not great, I am still new at writing smut so if you have any tips or advice, that would be great. Hope you enjoy! Also, if you request something and prefer a gender neutral or male reader, please tell me. I usually write female reader but can and will write others.

gif is not mine

You sighed contentedly, lips encased in yours in a clumsy, but passionate kiss. The dim light of the moon caressed the soft cheek of his and made his eyes shine like the stars that danced in the sky. You wished to be in this moment forever, relishing in the happiness that enveloped you in a warm embrace much like the arms he had tightly wound around your back. The rut of his hips coaxing out a moan of pleasure when his hips grinded with yours that was now pressed heavily against the mattress with his right hand. Clothes and undergarments long forgotten, the softness of the skin shining with sweat from the heated actions almost sticking you two together.

You wished for every moment to be like this, just the two of you underneath the ceiling of the Forman’s residence wrapped up in each others arm whispering sweet nothings. The tender kisses he laid upon your jaw and neck, nipping here and there leaving small traces of his saliva. Your breath hitched once his slightly chapped lips entrapped your nipple, sucking then tugging gently with his teeth.

“Eric,” you managed to breathe out through the amorous actions you were engaged in. His thrusts were at a steady pace giving you time to wonder if he was feeling the same way as you were, relishing in this moment. “Faster, Eric.”

“I’m going to cum very soon if I do that. I don’t want to leave you hanging,” he replied in heavy pants but otherwise obliged in your request and picking up the pace of his thrusts. You attempted in keeping up with his thrusts by bucking your hips, grinding your clit once his hips met yours. Letting out another moan, you tried to be quiet as his family was only right outside his door and you didn’t want to give up this point in time because of your lack of keeping silent. It was hard, swallowing the moans that tried to escape your somewhat swollen lips as you felt the warmth spread like wildfire down south. He wouldn’t last long, but neither would you.

Eric noticed your oncoming orgasm, taking the hand that held your hip a minute ago and descending down your body to settle on your clit, rubbing his calloused fingers in the motion you enjoyed. He felt your walls clenching around him causing a small stutter in his rhythmic thrusting and his own orgasm was catching up.

You moaned out his name, louder than intended and a hand clamped down onto your mouth.

One

Two

Three

Together, you came apart, shuddering from the intensity of the orgasm that was pulled out of each other.

To you, this wasn’t just sex. To you, it meant something more meaningful than an action of pleasure. Lovemaking. Intimacy. He may not be your first and you may not be his, but you intended to be his last. No matter what it took.

#eric forman #eric forman x reader #that 70's show x reader #eric forman smut #x reader #smut

275 notes · View notes