#billy has a girlfriend but not for long lol

[fairyysoup]

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself. 

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something. 

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you. 

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again. 

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder. 

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway. 

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you. 

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it. 

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does. 

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will. 

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive. 

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again. 

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying. 

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will. 

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him. 

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you. 

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.” 

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience. 

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”  

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?” 

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. 

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing. 

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth. 

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile. 

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?” 

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?” 

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night. 

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.��

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.” 

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.” 

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.” 

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens. 

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face. 

Steve Harrington is touching your face.  

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him. 

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile. 

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer. 

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana. 

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it. 

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation. 

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you. 

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.” 

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.” 

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.” 

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?” 

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.” 

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.” 

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror. 

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself. 

You like it a lot. 

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours. 

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.” 

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.” 

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?” 

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?” 

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night. 

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own. 

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?” 

“I wish.” 

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return. 

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted. 

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?” 

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?” 

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away. 

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly. 

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!” 

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?” 

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.” 

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?” 

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him. 

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.” 

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy. 

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count. 

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.  

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.” 

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section. 

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.” 

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals. 

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly. 

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking. 

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers. 

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst. 

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.” 

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack. 

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop. 

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices. 

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant. 

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” 

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.  

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.” 

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.” 

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York. 

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt. 

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm. 

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.” 

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?” 

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.” 

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps. 

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date. 

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away. 

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me. 

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel. 

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying. 

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite. 

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones. 

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time. 

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. 

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things. 

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”  

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve. 

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box. 

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him. 

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box. 

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check. 

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day. 

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes. 

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind. 

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms. 

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”  

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you. 

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now. 

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours. 

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco. 

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building. 

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him. 

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”  

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?” 

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open. 

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you. 

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.” 

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

“The price.”  

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice. 

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.” 

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.” 

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?” 

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you. 

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.” 

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out. 

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.  

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?” 

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor. 

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open. 

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you. 

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”  

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”  

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit. 

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom. 

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders. 

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?” 

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours. 

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.  

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do. 

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started. 

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.  

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.  

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning. 

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips. 

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind. 

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline. 

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him. 

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?” 

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”  

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?” 

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?” 

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows. 

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose. 

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?” 

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.  

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork. 

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself. 

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

[yesimwriting]

Loving how you write the dynamic between Billy, Stu, and Y/N! They seem much more possessive of her (in a "not yours, not mine, but OURS" kind of way) than they do their *actual* girlfriends, which I'm really enjoying!

Makes me wonder if they used to butt heads over who they chose to date previously. Like, gotta keep up appearances of being Normal Heterosexual Boys, but it sucks when your partner's girlfriend isn't your type.

Anyway, lovely work! Have you posted it on Ao3?

ahh thank you!! and no, i don't write on Ao3 yet, but i've been thinking about it,, i have a wattpad but this is updated a lot more frequently and wattpad is more for the occasional OC idea (might be making a scream one on there soon tho! i have some ideas lol, if anyone's interested)

i really do feel like what makes y/n special to them is that she's theirs in the sense that they both want to have her and keep her around

ohhh i love that concept...i definitely feel like the whole dating thing has definitely caused some conflict between them, especially when dating first comes up

like they've been getting closer and neither of them are big about talking about their emotions, and then billy gets asked out by a girl or stu's parents bring up that they'd love to see him with a nice girl and so they both look into it, and at first they both swear up and down that they couldn't care less bc it wouldn't really change anything

but after stu "accidentally" scares off a perfectly nice girl (it's not his fault, billy, how was stu supposed to know that she'd freak out after seeing a gutted frog the first time she came over to stu's place? he was just practicing for bio class, and technically he didn't threaten her, stu just pointed out that she and the frog had some similarities) they both come to a sort of silent agreement to not bring home anyone the other wouldn't like

which kind of leads to an era of just checking out the same girls, but more in a fantasy sense, maybe even making a game out of who can hook up with a specific girl first, and maybe picking out public girlfriends for each other to make sure no one doubts their ability to be attached to other people or their ability to be heteronormative

and its not like they never have feelings for other people at the same time, but they know their silent boundaries, and as long as they're each others top priorities everything's fine <3

i think they might've given up on the idea of finding the perfect girl worth keeping around, mainly bc of their lack of attachment to other people, but then y/n pulled up and when they both brought her up at the same time they were like 😳 (omg i think it'd be fun to write a fic/drabble that's in the final girl fic universe about billy and stu's thoughts on y/n , specifically that first discussion about her and how she caught their attention)

[reallyromealone]

Hello there! This is my first time requesting a Tumblr fic so please excuse me if I do this wrong lol

May I request Omegaverse Beta Jonathan Byers x Omega Male Reader with a domestic life and they have twins(girl and boy; maybe add a little sibling squabble 👀); And a little angst where Jonathan feels insecure about being with the reader because he isn't an alpha and reader cheers him up with his words and it's just super fluffy at the end.

Well I'm glad I'm your first!

Sorry it took so long, got a lot of asks lmao.

And you're doing great!

X

Today was stressful for Johnathan.

The twins were fighting all morning over (sons name) stealing (daughter's name)s barbie because his toy needed a girlfriend and it was just a mess for the Alpha and beta and they basically told (sons name) they would find his toy a girlfriend but to not mess with his sister's toys unless he wants her to mess with his.

And to top it off he's been hearing... comments about his mating with (name).

Mainly about how he had no business as a beta to be with an Omega like (name).

Omegas like (name) apparently need strong alphas like Billy or hell even Eddie!

He had nothing against Eddie he was great but sometimes he envied the fact he was an alpha.

He couldn't scent (name) like an alpha.

He wasn't dominating or intimidating like one either.

He was just Johnathan.

Walking in he saw the twins fighting again as (name) took the toy from them "what did we talk about sharing, if one of you is playing with a toy, the other has to wait their turn"

Glancing at Johnathan he smiled and discreetly gestured to follow him to the kitchen and the beta complied, the Omega going to a cabinet where the pups can't reach and behind the four was a bag of m&ms for baking "gimmie your hand" he whispered as the two ate their treat "(name)..." Johnathan asked hesitantly as the Omega who looked at him like he hung the moon "a-are you happy with a beta as a mate?"

"Who said otherwise?" (Name) asked hugging the other who in turn looked away "just some people around town... They think you deserve an alpha"

"I don't want an alpha, I want my sweet compassionate beta mate who wakes me with kisses and rubbed my feet when I was carrying the pups" (name) said resolutely before continuing "besides I think last night was proof enough on how happy I was to have you as a mate..." (Name) said with a shit eating grin.

"Are you sure...?" Johnathan had those puppy eyes that made (name) weak "wouldn't have let you mated me then knock me up if I wasn't 100% sure"

"I love you baby"

"I love you too my handsome beta"

[fizzigigsimmer]

i wanna hear about all your fics!! so bachelor au, blinding baby like city lights, news paper au and love aint fair at all!!

Ahh bless you nonny. Some of these are still just outlines but a few have chapters posted.

Starting with OUTLINES

The Bachelor Au: This is still one of my favorite ideas lol, born of my love of the insanity that is the bachelor franchise and the poorly concealed producer plants who are clearly just there for the drama. You can't tell me Billy wouldn't make a perfect Chad. The gist is Steve is the first Bisexual bachelor contestant. An icon, An American sweetheart looking for love. Robin and The Party are crew members and all the stranger things teens are contestants (Nancy, Chrissy, Eddie, Jason, Argyle, Heather) vying for his hand and represent various types of typical bachelor contestants. The funny ones, the good guys, the people there for clout, the people who somehow think they can get away with going on a dating show while still involved in a situationship back home, and the people who decide to do a reality show instead of go to therapy for their bag of issues. Billy is an instagram model hired by producers to be the seasons 'villian' and be hated by the audience. It's just supposed to be a free vacation where he gets to make some extra cash to be his most extra before he's finally sent home. But oops, they fall in love. Leaving them to figure out how they build a life together after the show when there are NDA's involved and they are the most hated ship in America.

Newspaper Club Au: This is a no upside down college fic featuring Billy/Nancy friendship, nerd!billy and jock!Steve. I haven't decided yet whether it's modern, 80s, or an ambiguous setting but the basic gist is the boys meet in college. Steve is there on a sports scholarship and chose California to follow Nancy, now his ex-girlfriend. Billy's an English major who works on the school paper with Nancy (one of his electives). He's pissed when she puts him on the sports column as it means he actually has to attend the games. He starts using the column to flirt with/aka harass swimmer Steve through increasingly ridiculous and suggestive commentary. The campus thinks it's a riot. Steve thinks Billy's an asshole and making him the butt of a joke just because he's a "dumb jock". Nancy plays matchmaker and also saves the integrity of her paper by finagling Billy into helping Steve write an essay for his English literature elective. Billy takes the opportunity to show him he was 1000 percent serious about wanting to know if his dick is even bigger out of the speedo.

Onto the POSTED fics

Blinding Baby Like City Lights: Is a dom/sub au where everyone is either a dominant, submissive, or switch. Basically some people need to dominate to stay balanced and others need to submit, or some mix of the two. And everyone responds differently to different things, creating many different 'types.' Naturally not all types are good for each other. Billy is a masochistic sub, has known it for a long time but wasn't safe to explore it growing up with an abusive sadist for a father. He's managed to claw his way out of his abusive home and become a successful business man who is often mistaken for a dom. He found family in Heather & Chrissy, but never a dominant he can trust enough to handle him and give him exactly what he needs. Steve's a recovering sadist. Too much privilege and neglectful parents lead him to some pretty unhealthy and toxic tendencies in his relationship with his first love Nancy. Losing his sub nearly broke him, but he broke good and has been rebuilding his life with his best friend Robin for the last few years. He just wants to take care of people by making good food, and find someone he can take care of always, without having to be afraid of his own desires. Steve might just be perfect for Billy, and Billy might just be what Steve needs to finally embrace who he is.

*** EDIT

When you have so many WIPs you confuse two of them.

Love Aint Fair At All: Werewolf au + a/b/o dynamics. This is a retelling of Snow White that takes place in an alternate version of Hawkins where magic exists. Some peoples magic makes them Wolf Shifters (people who are born with the ability to turn into wolves) and others use their magic to bend the external elements, these people are called Hags. Steve lives in the Cold Zone, a portion of the country that is suffering under a powerful Hags curse. Billy is a Wolf Shifter, exiled from their former pack in California, he and Neil make their way as huntsmen for hire. But everything goes to shit wen Neil brings the family to Hawkins to serve Steve's cousin Elsie, a powerful and mysterious Hag whose obsession with beauty and power threatens to cover the world in ice. The only thing holding her at bay is an old curse that limits her powers and a prophecy that promised one day an omega child would be born who was fairer than her. Good thing Steve is a perfectly normal bland beta boy - until he isn't.

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Being Frank Castle's Daughter in Hawkins Pt 3

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬���

reader: female | Age: 17-18 range

Characters Mentioned: Frank Castle (MCU), Matt Murdock (briefly, MCU), Kate Bishop (Briefly, MCU), Peter Parker (briefly, MCU), Ant-Man (Briefly, MCU), Black Window (Briefly, MCU), Thor Odinson (briefly MCU), Steve Rogers (Briefly, MCU), Bucky Barnes (briefly, MCU) Ghost rider (once, MCU), Bruce Banner (once, MCU), Pietro Maximoff (Once, MCU), Deadpool (Once, MCU), Steve Harrington (ST), Billy Hargrove (ST), Nancy Wheeler (ST), Eddie Munson (briefly, ST) Dustin Henderson (briefly, ST) Mike Wheeler (briefly, ST), Max Mayfield (briefly, ST), Neil Hargrove (briefly, ST), Mrs.Wheeler (briefly, ST) Holly Wheeled (Briefly, ST), Mr. And Mrs. Harrington (ST)

type: headcanons + drabbles (unnecessary long ones too lol)

A/N: im glad you guys are liking this

Warnings: Y/n beats ass, also Y/n gets stabbed by a fork, Mrs.Harrington being the biggest ass and shoving her religion down your throat, this part really has it out for our reader, also Mrs.Harrington called you a dyke so fuck her, mentions of scars and Past abuse from Neil at Billy

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

Hawkins, you had called the place home for about a month and a half, and with fall in full swing and break coming up, things were starting to get busy

Halloween was coming up and it was just as a big thing in Hawkins as it was in New York

You always loved Halloween, it's good fun, plus the colors were always a nice contrast to New York and its grayness

And you had a habit of dressing up as shitty put-together costumes of superheroes to make your friends laugh after all you were meant to be them the best one was spiderman

By best, it means crack head energy one

Good time good times

The Bully continued though: so no good times :(

You're basically annoyed at this point, Like would you find a few ways to harass me thanks, Wiping away marker day after day just seems like, no thought put into it

With the last week of school coming up, well, that was different.

Steve had started sitting with you during lunch, till he finally spits it out that he and Nancy had split a few weeks ago.

But you felt like he had been holding on for a while to that

So with him now girlfriend less and Tommy and Carol free he spent lunch with you.

"So what are you gonna be for Halloween?" Steve asked.

Y/n shrugged, "who knows. I was thinking something superhero."

"Like Black widow?" Steve asked.

"Try Ant-Man."

"Ant-Man? Please." he rolled his eyes, causing Y/n to chuckle.

"Oops!"

The harmless laughter was soon cut off by food being dumped straight onto her head.

"Oh no!" A girl aspirated, loudly, "not my milk too!"

Y/n and Steve were too in shock to even move, Y/n being covered in sloppy joe, mashed potatoes, and strawberry milk. The whole cafeteria went silent as the girl's laughter filled the silence.

"You don't mind if I take yours right?" She asked, "Accidents happen all the time."

The girl took the milk from Y/n's barely-touched tray and walked off to the center between all the tables, walking down as if it was some runway with her friends.

"That's It!" Y/n shouted standing up the whole table rocking as she did so.

"y/n! Y/n!" Steve called as she walked from between the tables, pulling her jean jacket off and wiping her face on it before tossing it aside, "Heather get the FUCK back here!"

The teen turned around, smirking at her as her friends laughed.

"Aw. Little nobody wants to get in a cat fight?" She mocked, watching Y/n take off her belt, "She's a whore too! Gonna undress for the whole school are you?"

Steve ran in beside her, "Y/n if you fight them-"

"It's not a fight if all I do is beat there ass." Y/n defended, "So go back to your see. Now."

Steve gulped back up towards the table. "Go sit down with you little bitch friends," Heather ordered as Y/n stood there.

The cafeteria was silent, all eyes on Y/n as she sniffled something itching her nose as she wrapped her belt around her palm and knuckles letting it go down her forearm and tightening it on her arm. The girls looked at each other and laughed under their breath.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" She asked as she started forward towards Y/n stopping barely an inch apart.

"This is your warning." Y/n demanded calmly, "you walk away, and you apologize to Steve for calling him a name."

"And if I don't?" She spoke.

Y/n nodded looking down, Heather laughing: all bark and no bite.

Y/n calmly placed her hand on Heather's shoulder, and quickly gut punched her hard, Heather crumbling to the ground in pain wheezing for pain as Y/n pushed her over easy with her foot.

"Someone else wanna come at me!" Y/n shouted.

"Y/n! Behind you!"

Y/n turned around too slow just to be rushed at by one of the girl's boyfriends, she was driven into a support pillar as he punched at her gut.

"YEAH! GET EM Y/N!" Eddie cheered, the whole cafeteria in uproar: apparently Y/n's not the only one these guys were fucking with.

Grabbing him by his hair she dragged him near a table and tossed him into it, it hit him in the gut as Y/n grabbed him by the hair once more and threw him to the floor. Another boyfriend jumped in, pulling Y/n by her hair she struggled against his grasp but dropped onto her knees, he was thrown off balance causing him to jolt forward as she grabbed him by his arms and flipped him over her, sending him to the ground and hard. She stood back up seeing the girls at the end of the cafeteria scram as quick as they could.

"Knife!"

Y/n turned her head, seeing the first boy come at her with a small pocket knife, his swings sloppy and clearly just aiming for her face, she dodged and landed a punch across his face, clean hard, and fast.

Billy Fucking Hargrove had come from no where to help, finished with his cigarette, and grabbed him pulling him away from her and beating him up. Heather had grabbed someone's metal fork from their tray in silence and rushed at Y/n, getting her in the upper shoulder with it piercing the flesh deeply. That would injure Y/n enough to teach her a lesson.

Yet Y/n pulled the fork from her shoulder and threw it aside shocking the girl as Y/n grabbed her by the front of her shirt and dragged her to a table, kicking her knees in and pushing her head to the table flat.

"Steve." Y/n spoke looking up at him, he was right there, "Top pocket of my bag, a little white box."

He looked at her in shock, "Steve!"

"yeah! yeah!"

He did as ordered and quickly tossed her the box she used her teeth to open the box, the box was a little shaker box, filled with sharp pins they'd use on maps in class. The girl squirm as Y/n grabbed her by the face, opening her mouth forcefully.

"I don't mind losing a few of these," Y/n told shaking the box a sharp pin barely hanging on as the girl started to cry, "You know this hurts, yeah it hurts real bad. I know It's happened to me before,"

"P.Please!" The girl gargled, her mouth still forced open.

"I let you walk away if what!?" Y/n argued, "What did I promise!"

The girl looked at Steve, "I'm sorry."

"What?" Y/n asked shaking the box, "I can't hear you!"

"I'm sorry! Please!" She begged, "I won't do it again! Ever! Please!"

"Not loud enough!" Y/n argued.

"Y/n that's enough!" Steve argued Heather crying.

"I Said louder!" Y/n demanded shaking the box as a few fell from the edge.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! Please!" She cried louder looking at Steve, Y/n catching the pins before they fell into the girl's mouth letting the girl fall onto the floor.

The whole cafeteria was cheering: the biggest bullies were completely destroyed, Billy grabbed your jacket, and Steve threw you your bag as you and Billy rushed out of there before the teachers came around.

Eddie basically being your hype man after you ran: "And Y/n Castligone wins by a not so shocking 50 points!"

That just causes more cheering.

And Billy drove you home

Luckily no one was home and you were able to take a shower while Billy sat in your room

Afterward, he helps in bandaging those stab marks from that fork

That's the first time he sees your back up so close.

He's seen plenty of girls naked before yeah, but your back is different

It's covered in old scars that had faded and blended in with your skin

He wants to ask about them so bad: but if what he thinks is true, he can't help you as much as he thinks, he's in the same situation

and he knows asking is a touchy subject

But Billy ends up staring anyways

"New York's hard on the body." Y/n responded finishing covering the fork stab wounds, "Thanks."

He's quiet as he watches Y/n put a bra on, back still to him, and then a shirt.

"You said you'd call me," Billy argued.

"Call you?" Y/n asked, "about what?"

"You know what!" He shouted, shocking Y/n, "I can't believe I actually fucking cared!"

"I don't even understand what your talking about!" Y/n argued back.

"So those scars just appear right!?"

Y/n looked at him like he was stupid, he had no idea what he was talking about: "You don't know what you're talking about." Y/n argued.

"Oh? I don't?" Billy argued, red in the face: He seemed to hurt more than anything, "fucking try me because I understand how it is to be beat for every small fucking detail out of place."

"What?" Y/n asked, this was news to her, and his anger dropped: she was genuinely confused, isn't this what they had slowly been hinting at each other this whole time?

"Hargrove."

He went to walk away but she grabbed his wrist, "Billy. Sit. please."

You had never come clean to anyone, about you and Frank's work, you swore him to secrecy, with a pinky swear and he thought you were fucking stupid

So you told him about it all: Your time in New York: everything to fighting with Frank against Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, to meeting the literal God of Thunder, from Daredevil to ghost rider, and ghost rider to bruce banner, you laid it all on the floor for him: you even told him about Pietro

You make him too vulnerable and he tells you about his dad: but also swears you to secrecy and to your demise, you promise, and he tells you everything and you actually listen which makes it that much easier for Billy to just throw it all out.

You guys just become that much closer, and he gets a well-deserved bear hug.

"Maybe I'll take you away to New York one day," Y/n spoke softly, holding Billy tight.

Yeah he'd like that.

A phone call interrupts the two of them, Y/n going to pick it up.

"God finally," Steve spoke on the other end, "You okay?"

Y/n smiled small, "I'm good yeah, nice shower and everything."

"Maybe best to lay low for the rest of the day," Steve spoke, " Everyones been keeping it to themselves, what happened at lunch. Think those girls got too scared to say anything."

"Well let's hope they don't bother anyone anymore," Y/n responded.

"Y...yeah..." Steve nervously released, "Say...Uh thanks, I don't think anyone really ever stuck up for me, ya know?- it's not like people call me names all that much-"

"It's fine," Y/n responded, "Let's just say I don't like bullies at all..."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah I can see that...but uh, you know, as a thanks...my dad has this dinner happening: with some people from work, did you wanna...I don't know come along?"

"A...party?"

"No, large dinner." Steve corrected quickly holding his breath on the other end.

"A party would have been a deal breaker," Y/n chuckled, "But uh I'm free, when is it?"

"Sunday starts at 5:30."

"Yeah, I'll run it by my dad then."

"Cool.Cool. I've gotta run."

"Mhm."

You bet he's screaming like a little girl, and Dustin's there too, he had to be there.

"It's a good day Henderson!!" Steve cheered, "Icecreams on me! Go get you, little shitheads!"

hey Dustin's not complaining at all

And you back to sitting with Billy till Frank comes home, and he sees you two playing the game of life.

"This is Bullshit!"Billy protested.

"What?" Y/n laughed.

"You took the kids and the fucking car! My game piece doesn't even stand up! by itself!"

A whistle steals her attention, "Hey dad." Y/n smiled looking over at him in the doorway, "Sorry I didn't call you, Hargrove me home."

"It's. Fine." Frank spoke, "we got dinner on Sunday, at five."

"Uh..." Y/n spoke, "With the Harringtons?"

"How'd you know?"

"I know their son..." Y/n spoke moving her pieces, "I need 500 Hargrove."

"For what!?"

"Child support."

"Bullshit."

Y/n looked back at Frank as Billy counted the fake money, "Is that all?" Y/n asked.

"Your friends sent you another box."

"What? really!?" Y/n asked with a smile getting up and disturbing the game: thank God was Billy's thought.

You could care about the game now and grabbed the box from its position by the door thanking Frank before going back into the room using her foot to close the door.

Since Billy knows about your past and the whole Punisher's daughter thing, you allow him to stay for the weird shit that's being sent to you

This one's weirder than the last one, and in the Letters, Matt even apologizes for the weird shit that's gonna be in the box

There are some photos, and you show Billy who's who: But don't reveal any identities, he sees that you're happy talking about them

"Family dinner must be fun." Billy joked.

Y/n laughed, "Yeah, Sunday dinner is really fun."

A small smile painted his face, messing with a small stone sent to her by Thor, it was from Asgard apparently and highly valuable.

"Just like this week's Sunday dinner." Billy teased, "I can see it now, City bird becomes Harrington."

Y/n rolled her eyes and laughed, "Oh please. Not gonna be a Harrington if I'm blowing this joint with a Hargrove after graduation now am I?"

He let out a chuckle, setting the stone back in its velvet bag.

"Throw a punch at Harrington for me?" Billy asked Y/n smiling.

"Just for you."

"Yeah?" Billy asked with a smile, his teeth grazing his bottom lip just the slightest.

"yeah."

And that was his cue to leave, he say his goodbye to you before leaving

Turns out he has to go to that stupid dinner too, so he could punch Harrington himself

and when he tells you, you laugh in his face, and now you're running from him

Apparently, Mr.Harrington had become friends with one of his security guards during the night shifts, and Frank was always doing Extra hours during night construction on a new building for the company

That's how this happened

You told Steve about it: wow small town

Like literally small town- It's Hawkins what did you expect

And Nancy was talking to you about it during a class you shared, Apparently, her dad was high up and worked under Mr.Harrington too, she was complaining about going to you

but then figured out your going

And says she has to take you shopping: she just has to, because she doesn't have something to wear and wanted to get to know you better now that "Steve wasn't dragging her everywhere."

She says she'll pick you up Saturday, but if you have to go you say you'll just have your dad drop you off downtown and she agrees

You are not excited to go shopping you know you're gonna be dragged into some girly store.

You ask Frank about it at Dinner and he almost laughs: you're asking him to drop you off to go DRESS shopping, not just shopping, DRESS shopping

"Oh you're serious," Frank spoke.

"Yeah..." Y/n spoke, "unfortunately"

because that's what you want he takes you

When the weekly calls come in even Kate's laughing at you, but you're being serious: "What? What happened to pants gang?" was her response

She was right: you can't break the pants pact "Wear red," matt called from the background.

"Wear purple," Kate called.

"Purples gross."

"Oh sure, because you can totally tell Matt."

You miss the old bickering with the group

but soon the call ends because peter's gotta go save the city

you miss getting those calls to go and help

but you can't let it get you down,

So when Saturday comes along and you're dragging yourself to downtown, nancy is already waiting for you on a street corner

She practically drags you through every store, and it's not like it's slow either, she goes through each one thoroughly with you

"Okay, so what are you going to wear?" Nancy asked, "Dress? Or skirt? Maybe something with a belt around the waist? I bet Pinestrip plaid would look great on you!"

"Can I be honest?" Y/n asked Nancy nodding.

"I was just gonna wear jeans and a shirt."

"oh."

"yeah..." "Steve's uh...Mother is pretty-"

"I mean I can get a dress. I don't-"

"No! No! you should be comfortable, maybe we can go look at the business casual pants? You can still get pinstripe plaid if you want!"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

So maybe Nancy Wheeler wasn't as big of an ass as you had first thought

Though through the whole day you were downtown you had picked out just a pair of fitted pants that were black and flared at the bottom slightly, and a sleeveless turtle neck from the thrift store, Nancy still was having trouble finding the perfect shoes

"I just bought loafers from the thrift store. See there pretty good shape." Y/n defended.

"I can't wear loafers!"

"Okay. Let's calm down." Y/n spoke, "What color are you looking for."

Somehow you manage to calm Nancy down and find some damn heels for her.

She drives you home after getting some ice cream for on the way home.

"So you and Hargrove?" Nancy asked.

"Me and Billy? What about it?" Y/n questioned, as Nancy looked over at her.

"Come on," Nancy spoke.

"What?" Y/n asked again.

"Nothing, never mind." Nancy spoke, "You're both just close then?"

Y/n nodded, "Must be a city kid thing." "Yeah..."

Nancy wasn't convinced, but you were

She dropped you off and waved goodbye as she watched you go inside before pulling off.

"What you buy a whole damn store and work in it?" Frank ask, he was making dinner as she walked in.

"I bought three things."

"After," He looked at the clock, "What? seven hours?"

"Nancy couldn't find heels," Y/n responded.

"Now were the heels for you? or her?" Frank poked at her.

"I stuck to the guns, and got pants, even bought a pair of loafers."

Frank chuckled eating a slice of the vegetable he was cutting.

"Thatta girl," He praised and went back to cooking.

Y/n smiled and went to put her stuff down.

She'd help with Dinner after washing her hands, and then they'd eat together, bs-ing about the week

The main topic was tomorrow's dinner, they laughed at each other: neither were "people" people, they had their close-knit group and that'd be all, but they knew that: and it was yet another thing they had in common

Somewhere during dinner, a deck of Uno cards found its way between them during dinner, they played late into the night there half eaten food getting cold as + four cards continued to be stacked until 16 cards were drawn on Y/n's end.

That was straight of slaughter.

You went to bed after Frank's glorious win

You thought you'd be able to sleep in on a Sunday, but someone was knocking on your window at the crack of dawn.

"Nanc?" Y/n asked, "What the hell are you doin' here?"

"Help me in." She spoke Y/n sighing and taking Nancy's bag from her tossing it on the bed, then pulling Nancy herself inside the room.

"I was thinking I could help you get-"

It was too late, Y/n had already laid herself back in bed, "Gimmie another three hours."

"What? No- also your room looks just like my brothers. A mess."

Y/n shrugged, "that's fine by me."

"Come get up I wanna help you get ready!"

Y/n sighed as she sat up, "Go at it, Nancy-"

"Well, I'm not giving you a shower! come on get up!"

So Nancy drags you to get up and into the shower, she also tells you to wash your hair so she can help you do that too

"What's that."

"Makeup."

"What?"

"Don't worry, I'm not putting glitter on your face," Nancy spoke, "or pink."

"Oh."

She sticks true to her word and keeps it simple, some chapstick: which you thought was lipstick, and some black eyeshadow blended out

She had you get dressed afterward, you but you look "too plain" in her words, you're sleeveless turtle necks black and so are your pants, your loafers black as well.

"You look like you're going to a funeral." Nancy spoke, "Do you have a leather jacket? Or maybe a different colored turtle neck?"

"I have a dark purple turtle neck,"

"Yeah put that on!"

Y/n did as told, careful to watch her face as she changed it out for a purple long sleeve turtle neck.

"That's better." Nancy spoke, and went into her bag, "i brought this from home, it's originally a belt but I think it'd work as a chain too."

Nancy clipped both sides to the belt loops, leaving one loop in between.

"There!" she smiled, showing Y/n her tiny pocket Mirror, "All ready for dinner! Do you mind if I do my make-up here? I'd love to-"

"Y/n?" Frank knocked on the door

"Go," Y/n whispered. "One-minute dad!"

"What?"

"Go out the window." Y/n demanded, "Hurry."

Nancy quickly slid her bag under the bed and Y/n helped her out the window and closed it.

Y/n hurried to the door, opening it, "yeah?"

"You're up?" he spoke, but was more of questioning it, Y/n could easily sleep in till 2pm if she desired.

"Yeah," Y/n responded.

Y/n reached his hand out and she closed her eye as he wiped beside her eyelid.

"Is that makeup?" He asked looking at the black smudge on his finger.

"Yeah. is that okay?" Y/n questioned.

"yeah, yeah," Frank spoke, wiping his hand on his black pants, "You look..."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, "Bad I presume?"

"No. No," he spoke, unable to find the right word.

A smile fell onto Y/n's lips: "if it's leaving you this speechless, I can proudly say I had a good dad to raise me."

He laughed kissing her forehead, "Don't take another three hours."

"Copy that."

Y/n closed her door with a smile, and walked back to the window to see Nancy waiting, "Did you park out on the street?"

"Yeah. I can't drive on that road," she spoke.

"You can come back in."

Nancy and you spend the next hours talking as she does her makeup and she puts a product in your hair as well as her own.

And she then climbed back out your window to go get dressed at her house, just in time too because Frank knocks

"You're cuttin' it, close kid. we gotta go"

"Me? I'm waiting for you old man."

He can only laugh, "yeah well we're gonna make it just on time if you'd walk a little faster."

""Oh? I'm too slow for the old man?"

You both left, and Frank had you carry a pie he made, since when did he bake?

"You never make me a pie." Y/n protested.

"You never ask." He spoke up.

"Since when did you learn how to bake."

"I'm Italian, It's a natural skill," Frank spoke with a laugh.

"You're Italian?" Y/n asked.

"Do you ever listen to anything I ever tell you, kid?"

Y/n shrugged, "I just always thought you were 100 percent dumb ass."

He looked over at her giving her a "really?" look as she laughed, he chuckling along with her shaking his head at her, "Watch it in front of these guys."

"You got it."

Dinner would be easy: you just wouldn't talk: this would be easy

You guys got there, and Mrs.Harrington opened the door, welcoming them both in.

"And you must be Mr.Castilgone?"

"Frank is fine Ma'm."

This was gonna be annoying in full honesty, she didn't even acknowledge you besides an up and down glance and a face of what looked like disgust.

the house was uh, "modern" basic with no charm, and no warmth.

"Steve come down we have guests come and greet them!"

Steve was quick to fly down the stairs, stopping mid-way, spotting y/n at the bottom of the steps.

"hey Harrington..." Y/n smiled waving to him shortly.

"My son has a name-" This was already going bad.

"Mom it's fine." Steve stopped her, walking himself down the rest of the steps, "Hey. You...Uh. You look great!"

"Thanks." Y/n smiled, "Not too bad yourself."

He smiled, "Uh, Harrington- Steve, Steve this is my dad, Frank. Dad, Steve."

Steve thought you were scary at first glance, but Frank? Damn. DAMN, he was terrified to just shake his hand; yet did it anyways, he saw where you got your strength from

Luckily Mr.Harrington breaks up the awkwardness happy to see Frank and to finally meet you: he surprisingly was a sweet man who would have preferred you dress "traditionally", but that wasn't his comment to make, and kept it to himself

You were taken into a living room while Mrs. Harrington went back to making food in the kitchen

Do you think it was a bit of a shock you didn't go to the kitchen with Mrs. Harrington? No. Did Mrs. and Mr. Harrington? Yes: Mr.Harrington kept his opinion to himself, but Mrs.Harrington seemed to be angrier than an old man catching kids stealing from his lemon tree, Y/n could feel the anger: and cursed Matt for training in improving her senses

"I. Uh. Got some new music from..the uh. store." Steve spoke nervously, trying to make small talk with her as they sat on the couch alone, Frank and his dad talking about work as Steve's dad poured them two whiskies.

"Nice," Y/n spoke looking around, so...bland...

"You look really pretty." Steve spilled out, his palms sweaty.

Y/n nodded, "Thanks. Wish I could say you look good, but you've cleaned up better for school."

"Ouch." He laughed, Y/n laughing with him, "Maybe I take that compliment back."

Y/n smiled, "You're very much welcome too."

Steve laughed, his fingers running over his palm as he looked at his hand, "I don't think I can, it'd be-"

The doorbell rang and Steve mentally gut punched himself, his mom answering it as the hall was filled with happy hellos.

In came, the one the only Hargrove-Mayfield family.

Both Steve and Y/n stood up. Steve found it odd the way Billy eyed at Y/n, also in a "watch it" tone as Y/n went for the juggler. Billy's Father, Neil Hargrove.

"Hi, Mr.Hargove!" Y/n smiled his hand extending as Y/n grasped it: it was a firm handshake, but Y/n squeezed, hard. "I'm Y/n, Y/n Castilgone, Frank's daughter, I know Billy from school, he's really sweet, drives me home all the time."

"My Billy? No." Neil laughed.

Y/n gave a puzzling look, "oh but yes Mr.Hargrove, he always makes sure I'm very safe, it's dangerous out there for a lady like me. Isn't it?"

She was buttering Billy up, "In New York, I am always worried about the danger, he keeps me very safe. You'd always have to watch your six everywhere you go."

Steve was confused, she was talking...weird focusing on her pronunciation of certain words (guys, find the secret threat within the dialogue lines to Mr.Hargrove and I'll give you a cupcake or something.).

"Nice to know he's finally got some sense in that head of his," Neil spoke with a smile, Y/n releasing his now red hand.

With the end of that Y/n met the rest of the Family Susan was sweet. And Max seems to like you

After all you were breaking conformity as she too had been forced to wear a stupid dress

Billy stood between you and Steve and leaned over to speak to you, he seemed mad, but when you leaned back to whisper in his ears his shoulders seemed to fall a bit like you had helped him relax

Steve feeling left out was glad the Wheelers showed up when they did.

You know like the sandlot where the kids have a crush on an older teen? Thats Mike seeing you

Mrs.Wheeler? Rather die than smile at you, Mr.Wheeler atleast said Hi

And Holly, Mike nor Nancy was allowed no where near you

Which...is odd.

Oh but of course. OF COURSE Mrs.Wheeler Oogles Billy and AND you're fathed

Two men you have that she cant have haha

In your face bitch

You're the only girl standing there in the group of men all the others had gone to the kitchen to help

Soon though dinner's done. And everyone sits down.

Mrs.Wheeler litterally stole the seat next to your dad.

So you were on the other side of the table, Across from Mrs.Wheeler between Steve and Billy at the end.

With Holly staring at you intensely. Werid.

"Ms.Castiglione." Mrs.Harrington spoke up from down the table, "You will say grace for us? You've been so quiet."

Grace? Uh okay. Okay what would Matt do?

"Um. Sure."

Y/n glanced between Steve and Billy they had no idea how to help her, everyone grabbing hands and looking down.

"What do I do!?" Y/n mouthed to Frank silently, he was just as loss, he knew Mr.Hargove knew Frank didn't exactly raise the you with religion set in place.

Plus it was gross seeing Mrs.Wheeler seem so turned on by Frank's hand simple holding hers. EW

"Uh...Hi God...jesus...who ever's up there. Just wanna say thank you for the good food and all. Wish you were here? Bet you enjoy it....Oh and P.S. I have a friend named Matt in New York. Tell him I said Hi. Keep not only New York safe, but Hawkins too. Thanks."

Mrs.Harrington was LIVID and you could feel Neil glaring daggers at you, but before she said anything Mr.Harrington spoke up with a loud Amen, the others following behind him.

"Was that alright?" Y/n whispered to the two boys.

"You want the truth?" Steve asked under his breath.

"Well yeah."

"Absolute shit." Billy laid out quietly, "You're rep with the adults. Fucked."

"I can fix it." Y/n defended quietly.

"Good luck." Steve spoke.

Luckily Mike and Max were the ones able to fish you out of your akward hole.

"So you're from New York?" Mike asked.

"Micheal." His mother scolded

Y/n nodded, "Born and raised."

Mike didn't listen: "Do you know any superheros?"

"Superheros? Mhm a few." Y/n spoke.

"Wait. Seriously?" Max spoke up, "Who?"

"Who's your favorite?"

"Black Widow!"

"Black Widow?" Mike Argued, "Thor's a god. He's the best."

"She didn't ask for the best, she asked for our favorite."

Y/n smiled, "I know both of them."

"Really?" The two kids asked happily.

"Did you fight with them? Are you a side kick?" Mike asked.

"Micheal. Be quiet." Mrs.Wheeler scolded, Mike growing quiet.

Y/n looked at Max, "Natasha and I know each other well."

"Are you a widow too?'

Y/n shook her head, "No. Im not. But. I will say she stays in contact with me."

"What about Thor?" Max asked, she knew Mike wanted to hear it, Y/n leaned in closer and so did Max.

"I helped him in a grocery store. Don't tell him. It brusies his pride. Unlike thor though, Deadpool? You know him?"

The two nodded, "He'll go out straight stand on a table if he has to and scream it. He's very theratical."

She laughed and Mike tried to contain his laughter.

"And is this why you don't know how to say Grace?" Mrs.Harrington spoke up.

"Mom." Steve scolded.

"Yes Ma'm. It's hard to study such Hero's without a fully opened Mind. Most come from very harsh backgrounds. Its a completely clean slate that you have to study them from." Y/n smiled.

Okay. That seemed to settle waters with Neil but not with either of the mothers,

Dinner was alright: Mrs.Harrington wasnt a great cook it was so bland considering the food you've tasted from New York.

Dinner kinda goes smoothly from there, talking amongst themselves and Frank kept looking at you like he felt bad but you would only roll your eyes drinking from your glass ,and spin your hidden finger signally insanity

The first time you did it he almost spits up his drink in laughter but managed to contain it.

"Mommy," Holly spoke up, she had still been staring at Y/n this whole time.

"Yes Holly?"

"That's the pretty girl from the store. Remember."

You froze, almost two months ago, two months since they've been in Hawkins, Holly had remembered you...if she had said that....that means it was Mrs.Wheeler who had called you basically ugly.

It's just one after another that punches keep being thrown

"If I may." Y/n spoke up, "Mrs. Harrington."

Mrs. Harrington looked up from her food, "what?"

"I'd be so appreciative if I could use your bathroom." Y/n responded, "Please Ma'm."

"Upstairs down the hall on your right."

And you leave.

Franks just about had it with this shit. He tried, You both tried. Very hard to seem like...perfect little people

But you're just not. You're not and It weighs on both of you

But there borderline bullying you now with their side glances of disappointment and scoffs as you talk about something you're so genuinely interested in

But in a way your different he's so use to it- So used to taking the shit, and he's always taught you You don't put up with it.

Before he gets to the punch Steve gets it out of all people hearing an under-the-breath comment about you being a dyke

"Alright. I'm done." Steve spoke up, pushing his plate forward.

"Steve have some Manners." His mom ordered.

"You know what? How. How am I going to have manners when you clearly don't have any?" Steve argued, "You've done nothing. Nothing but attack. You know that?"

"What are you talking about-"

"Mom! Be serious!" Steve argued, "Y/n's done nothing to hurt you. She's been nice and sweet this entire time! She brought a damn pie!"

"Watch your mouth when talking to your mother Steve." His father demanded.

"No swearing fine!" Steve agreed, just to go back at his mother: "What did she do?"

"Steve I-"

"What did she do?" Steve asked again.

"She didn't do anything."

"So what I'm getting at is that. Because she wears what she's comfortable in. She's a dyke?" Steve argued, "It's okay to call her dyke because she's being herself."

"It is not my fault that, that girl needs a lobotomy-"

"Alright." Frank spoke standing up grabbing his Jacket.

"Frank!" Mr.Harrington called, "Let's sit down. Let's all calm down."

"You want me to calm down?" Frank asked, "I've put up with this bullshit all through this dinner, now I've taken bigger shits than this in the damn war. I've taught my little girl no one talks to her this way, not behind her back not to her face. And that makes me a pretty bad father for making her sit through this shit. Doesn't it?"

"Frank-"

"Now if I hear you little wife talkin' about my girl again. I don't care if it's in praise or in a slur. If my little girl's name ever comes out of your wife's mouth, it bein' a rumor she talked or not. I will be putting your wife in the hospital." Frank threatened, "Do you understand?"

"Frank I understand you're angry-"

"I said DO YOU UNDERSTAND!" Frank shouted, classic army shouting, ordering you inline, it caused the whole table to straighten their posture in fear.

"Yes sir." Mr.Harrington spoke quietly.

Frank nodded, looking back and seeing Steve looking at him, "You got a good kid Harrington." Frank complimented before walking out of the dining room.

Y/n was coming down the steps, "We're leaving."

Y/n only nodded and followed Frank out the door. It slammed behind them on the way out causing them all to flinch.

"God..." Steve spoke under his breath, "God fucking damn it!"

He hit the table pushing himself out of his seat leaving the dinning room.

Previous Part - Next Part

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

Tags: @raelwrites

Dm me if you wanna be tagged!!

[grey-sides]

Forever mourning the fact that Murray will never "Children!! Children!!! 🤨" Billy and Steve. The way Steve would have to hold Billy back from murdering him lol

WDYM, anon? I have this script right here!

If Billy wasn’t positive that Steve would immediately call the police on him, he would have murdered this Murray guy hours ago. He’s so self-assured, righteous, a lunatic, he can’t believe Steve dragged him here. And why did Steve drag him here? Oh well, he’s just the smartest guy in the world, Billy, he knows things!

“You’re staying over, right? I know you’re young men, but I was pouring a little heavy,” Murray says, waving his glass of vodka around.

If anyone is drunk, Billy thinks, it’s gotta be this guy. Sheesh, does he have a problem or something?

“We wouldn’t want to impose,” Steve demurs, waving a hand around. He looks like fucking Wheeler doing that. Billy’s the last sane person in this house, hands down.

Murray waves his hands again and stands up. “Nonsense! You can have the guest bedroom, fresh sheets and everything.”

Steve glances at Billy, he has a flush high on his cheeks. Does drinking make him blush? Billy doesn’t think he’s ever seen Steve flushed from drinking, but the evidence is all over his face. Maybe he’s getting old.

“I’ll take the couch,” Steve says. How noble.

Murray whirls around, unbuttoned cardigan flying around his middle. He stares at them as a slow, sick smile creeps across his face. “The couch?” he asks, voice dangerously low, like he knows something they don’t.

“The couch,” Steve repeats. Billy stares at the side of his nose, the slope of his nose, a little different now since Billy broke it.

Murray sips his vodka, uses the hand holding the glass to point between them. “I’m sorry, what’s going on here?”

“Nothing!” Steve replies quickly, shaking his head. “We’re just friends. Billy needed to get out of the house so I suggested he come with.”

Murray laughs, from somewhere deep in his chest, throwing his head back as he gets hysterical with it. “Oh this is rich, children!”

Billy scowls, crosses his arms while he leans back in the couch. “We’re not fucking children.”

Murray pauses in his laughter and turns to Billy, that same smile on his face. “Well, you’re certainly trying to beat around the bush about it, aren’t you?”

“It’s fine!” Steve says, standing up. “I’ll take the couch, we don’t have to make it into anything.”

Murray shakes his head, points at Steve until he sits down again and walks back around to settle into his armchair. He looks between them, eyes half-lidded, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Oh no, we do have to make it into something.”

“So, who is it? Which one of you has the girlfriend you’re convincing yourself you love?” Murray asks, like that’s a normal thing to say to two people you’ve basically just met.

“What?” Steve asks at the same time Billy snaps, “No one.”

Murray chuckles to himself, nodding a bit. “So similar to my favorite success story and yet so different! So what is it? Internalized homophobia? Biphobia? Oh I know! You think you can make your parents proud if you just find the right girl.”

Billy’s hands clench into fists and he grits his jaw. What’s this guy’s deal? He’s a fucking asshole. Billy should punch his lights out and steal his car.

“That’s uncalled for,” Steve snaps, finally getting irritated with the guy too. Murray’s pushed Steve’s buttons enough to take him right out of the small town charm. “We appreciate the hospitality, Mr. Bauman, but we don’t appreciate you prying into our lives.”

Murray sips his vodka again, clearing his throat on a long sigh. He’s such a fucking weirdo, Billy really can’t stand him. “Ah yes, far be it for me to pry into anyone’s life. It’s just that- well, you can see what I see, can’t you?”

Steve glances at Billy again, where their knees are still pressed together. The way Billy’s opposite leg is jiggling up and down. He puts his hand on Billy’s wrist for just a moment, shaking his head. Billy knows what he’s trying to say without saying it, it’s not worth it.

Billy sighs, but his fists unclench, so that’s something. “Sir, I think it might be best if you stop suggesting whatever it is you’re suggesting,” he states slowly.

Murray narrows his eyes as he looks between them, nodding slowly. He gets up from his chair, walking around them to grab something from the mantle, holds it out. “Alexei,” he says, voice oddly somber. “My partner. He’s…recovering elsewhere.”

Steve takes the photo, looking at it silently. His hand finds Billy’s knee this time and it makes Billy’s heart clench in his chest. “I see,” he says quietly.

Billy doesn’t need to look at the picture to understand what Murray is telling them. He could almost forgive the guy for being so forward about this. He looks away and sets his jaw again. Steve’s taking the couch.

Murray puts the photo back when Steve is done looking at it and takes his seat across from them again. He’s markedly more subdued, looking between them. “I spent many years looking for the kind of happiness I have found with Alexei. I only mean to help.”

Steve looks back over at Billy, pulling his hand back even though Billy is internally screaming at him to let it stay. “I think this is something we need to talk about in private, sir.”

Murray puts his glass down on the coffee table and holds his hands up. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try. And with that I will bid you goodnight. The couch does pull out, but- you should talk in the guest bedroom.”

He whirls away up the stairs, whistling to himself as he goes. Billy rolls his eyes, staring mulishly at the glass next to the half empty bottle of vodka. Prick.

Steve clears his throat and stands up, stretches up onto his toes so he can make his back pop. He glances sideways at Billy for a moment. “Uh, I’ll take the couch?”

Billy looks up at him and gets to his feet too. He doesn’t say anything, but he does nod at the bedroom, jerks his head over so Steve knows he wants him to follow. He trudges to the room, a seventies nightmare like the rest of this house and tugs his boots off to sit in the corner. At least the bed seems comfortable when he sits on the edge of it.

Steve leans in the doorway, arms crossed while he worries his cheek in thought. “I won’t tell anyone what he was implying, you know?”

Billy sits back, takes a deep breath through his nose while he looks at Steve. He hates that he’s going to capitulate to Murray, of all people, but maybe he has superpowers like that little girl too. “Steve, we should share the bed.”

For a moment, Steve doesn’t move. He just stares at Billy, mouth hanging open, hands clutched to his biceps. When Billy leans back, pats the comforter though, Steve seems to get the idea. He kicks off his shoes too, lands them next to Billy’s boots as he pulls his belt off. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“I know,” Billy assures him quietly, tugging off his jeans so he can sleep in his t-shirt and briefs. He lays back on the bed and watches Steve strip down to his undershirt briefs too. Harrington fidgets at the end of the bed for a moment. “Come on.”

Steve climbs cautiously onto the bed, Billy gets it, he probably expects him to suddenly yank at his hair or something ridiculous. But Billy lets him get settled on the other side before he leans over to shut off the lamp, plunging them into darkness save for a fucking lava lamp Murray has in the corner.

They lay there stiffly for a moment, trying not to touch and Billy has had enough. Enough bullshit journalists trying to pick apart people. Enough of Steve trying to make himself smaller than he is so he doesn’t upset Billy. Billy willingly came on this trip, after all. Billy rolls onto his side and puts his palm in the center of Steve’s chest. He curls his fingers into it lightly and closes his eyes. “Get some sleep, Steve.”

Steve’s hand finds Billy’s on his chest and he curls his own fingers around the widest part of it. He breathes out slowly and Billy can hear his hair scratch against the surface of the pillow as he nods. “Goodnight, Billy.”

Murray serves them a scramble with coffee in the morning. And he hands Steve a bottle of vodka for the road.

[lanadane1]

About You

(Early November 1984) 

Prologue: The Split 

Eddie Munson x female!harrington!reader 

Chapter Summary:  Eddie confronts you about where you have been.  When you cannot provide an answer, the worst case scenario happens... 

Word Count: 1.7k (this is probably the shortest chapter lol)

 series masterlist here

Chapter warnings: Angst, breakup, aggressive Eddie, cheating allegations (not true)

Your heart dropped to the trailer floor- ripped in two halves.  

The statement your boyfriend just produced felt like he has thrust a knife into your chest, removed your heart, and ripped it in two.  You wished the bed you sat upon would swallow you whole.  Your eyes welled up and obstructed your view of him leaning on the dresser across the room from you as the words he spat reverberated in your brain like a harsh melody.  

“If you can’t trust me enough to tell me then I just… I don’t know if I can be with you.” Eddie hesitated as the weight of his words and the gravity of the situation dawned upon him.  He crossed his arms on his chest and stretched the red flannel he was wearing across his biceps.  It was a defensive stance that reflected his uncomfortable and frazzled state- yet you couldn’t help but recognize how beautiful he was as he did the simple action, no matter how inappropriate the circumstance was.  

You dragged your thoughts away from that of Eddies effortless beauty and pulled your sweater over your hands.  Using the heel of your palm, you wiped the quickly drying the water from your cheeks.

You weren’t crying because you were sad, not even because you were angry.  You cried out of frustration.  Helplessness seeped through your skin and your stomach churned at the fact there was nothing you could say or do to fix the situation.

You cried because he was right.  If you couldn’t tell him what happened, he couldn’t stay with you.  You couldn’t say why you disappeared for a week straight. Why you were talking to that douchebag Billy at school.  Why you have cuts and bruises splattered across your beautiful body like paint. Why you have ignored him except for the unavoidable places like class and lunch. 

“Eddie please,” you plead- no, beg, “Don’t do this.  I just can’t, not now.  Eventually I will I just-”

“Trust me y/n I don’t want to.  This-“ he welled up- a mirror image of the girl standing across from him, “I don’t think you get how much this is destroying me.”

“Then don’t!  Just give me a little while, please- just until things settle and die down- “

“What does that even mean!” he yelled exasperated, pushing off the dresser to close some of the space between you.  His shoulders were hunched like the conversation was physically weighing him down. “Die down? What things? Just tell me where you were! If you can’t tell me that then I have no choice but to assume you- “he stalled.

Eddie’s glassy eyes looked into yours with unprecedented intensity.  Pleading with you to prove his suspicions wrong.  To put his worries to rest and ease his fracturing mind.  

Billy Hargrove was a sorry excuse for a boy- much less a man.  The thought of the misogynistic asshole making Eddie insecure was vile, yet you couldn’t dispel his anxieties.  You wanted nothing more than to cut down the thought and provide an alibi- dispelling all worries from the guarded boy’s sensitive state.  But your alibi was too horrific and legally classified to disclose to your boyfriend, so Eddie had to stay out of the loop.  

Eddie didn’t believe you cheated, but his sad and clouded mind could not come to another conclusion. He did trust you.  Implicitly so.  But Eddie just couldn’t believe his luck.  Getting you to be his girlfriend in the first place, keeping you for so long with so many other eligible options for you to choose from, and you loved him? In his mind, the tables had to turn at some point- and here it was.  

“I wasn’t with him.  I would never cheat on you, Eddie.  I love you.  I need you like I need oxygen- it kills me you think I would ever want someone else.” You whine to him.  

“Then prove me wrong, y/n! Let’s look at the facts.  He’s been hitting on you all year.  I find you and him in a corner at Tina’s Halloween party- “

“He cornered me! Could you not see how relieved I was when you pulled me out of there?”

“-You go M.I.A. for like a week and when you finally resurface, Darren tells me he finds you consoling him behind the gym!  What the fuck is up y/n!”

“Darren doesn’t know what the hell he saw!  Please Eds you have to understand-”

“Then enlighten me y/n! Look me in the eye and tell me you weren’t with him when you disappeared.  Tell me you don’t like him.”

You match his intensity. You leave the bed, meeting him in the middle of the room, and close the gap that separates the two of you- grasping his face in your hands and palms cupping his cheeks.  Your eyes burning with insistence into his melting chocolate ones.  

“I wasn’t with him.  I love you, teddy.  I can’t even- god I can’t even think about someone else.”

He grabbed at your wrists and paused a moment.  He believed you.  He loved you too.  But it wasn’t enough to erase the betrayal.  “Then where were you.”

You closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against his.  You understood why he couldn’t let it go.  Eddie told you once that it felt like he repelled commitment; his parents dumped him with Wayne as a child, most of his classmates avoided all interaction with him, and his teachers all gave up on helping him a long time ago.  But then you came along.  A raft in a raging sea.  A blanket in a merciless winter.  So, you could understand why this broke him.  You were the only shred of light left and if you abandoned him too- he feared he would be left in the dark.  Permanently.  

What you couldn’t do- is tell him what happened. You couldn’t explain that your best friend’s little brother and friends found a bald-headed girl in the woods last year that unlocked a secret world which paralleled Hawkins but was infested with monsters of unimaginable horror.  You couldn’t tell him that the boy you babysat, Will Byers, started seeing a shadow monster in the sky and accidentally blipping into that ghastly netherworld and was somehow connected to said shadow monster that had intentions to take over the boy, the town, and probably the world. You couldn’t tell him that the reason you went off the grid was to team up with your friends and focus on taking down this ominous evil. You couldn’t tell him that Billy's little sister was a part of the motley crew that banded together to take down this monster which caused Billy to come looking for said little sister.  And you certainly couldn’t tell him that you were talking to him behind the gym at school to see if he was alright after taking a bad beating from your brother and recovering from an involuntary drugging by his sister- your kindness getting the better of you.  

So, you didn’t.

“I just can’t explain it. Yet.”

Eddie inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.  He pulled your hands from his face and separated your foreheads from each other. He looked into your eyes- his own begging you to change your mind and not force him to make this choice.  

When your face projected that you were cemented in your decision, he became cemented in his.

“Then come find me when you can.  Until then, I think we- “He stopped as tears left his eyes and found purchase in the shag carpet of his bedroom floor.  He found his voice again and finished his sentence, “We need to be done.”  

He let your arms go and they fell limply to your sides.  You couldn’t feel them, as they dragged your shoulders down.  You couldn’t feel the tears that streamed down your cheeks onto your neck and collarbone.  You couldn’t even feel the floor beneath you- like the news pulled the ground out from under you.  That’s why you can only assume you floated to the front porch since you didn’t feel your legs pull you away from Eddies bedroom where he sat on his floor in a hysterical ball.  

You don’t remember the fight after he said you should break up.  You don’t remember the pleading and begging and shouting from both parties.  You don’t remember calling your brother to come pick you up from the trailer you once considered a second home.  

“I thought he was driving you home. Its only like 6?”

“Stevie, please. Just- just come get me.”

“Oh… okay then.  I’ll be there in a little bit.”

You don’t remember how long you sat on Eddies front porch with misty eyes and a trembling body from the crisp November night air.  

But you will never, ever forget the sound of Eddies muffled sobs of anger through the thin trailer walls, or the look on his face as he watched you climb into Steve’s car through the window in his room- pure anguish and immediate regret.  

Steve gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, as he too saw Eddie visibly distraught through the window.  Only after he slowly pulled out of the Forest Hills trailer park and turned onto the main road, did he finally break the silence.  

“You okay?”

“No.”

You figured there was no point in lying.  Steve always found your bluntness amusing, even as children.  However, the low morale of the car ride has him unable to find the humor in your comment.  

“Do you feel like talking?”

“No.”

You both breathed for a second.  There was no need to talk.  It went unspoken.  You both knew what just happened and you both knew that the next few months were going to be rough.  Grueling. Torturous.  But you had Stevie to help.  So, you wouldn’t be alone.

But you both knew he wasn’t who you wanted by your side.  Who you needed by your side.  

He wasn’t Eddie.

Steve’s heart ached at the state you were in.  The streetlights turned his passenger window into a mirror, reflecting a vision of you with puffy eyes and silent tears racing down the hills of your cheeks.  

Meanwhile, it was like your life was flashing before your eyes.  Memories of you and Eddie filled your head and ripped you apart.  Picnics in the back of his van, private concerts in his room, stolen kisses in yours, strong arms that held you together when it times got hard.  

He came and made everything right.  Now, he has left.  And everything is wrong.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is my first story so be kind to it!  I just love writing as a hobby and stranger things (*cough Eddie cough*) and thought I’d take a try.  :)))))

[calmingpi]

Next on the agenda: i actually finished listening to all the song recs ages ago and kept forgetting to make a post about it but i DID LISTEN TO EVERYTHING (under cut because its longer)

My favorite in general was butterfly by swingrowers ive been making everyone at work listen to it (that was recced by @trinity-blaze i believe). I love electroswing but i dont really explore the genre much despite that for some reason, even though i started listening to it in middle school

I received two playlists, the first one by @sparrowsarus and can be listened to here via spotfiy. My favorite on that actually was beach house by my girl carly rae jepsen, and also i really liked girlfriend by billie piper. I had no idea she was a musician. Whoops. Overall there was a lot of 90s pop on there which was super fun

The second playlist was from @tamlins-stories-and-poems and im actually not a filk fan really, my favorite was definitely lil nas x singing jolene which i REALLY wish was longer, but theres some fan songs on there that i think really were highlights in regards to fan made music. Turn it down by or3o for example i think really fit encantos general music style and was well performed, which is especially hard to do for a very established musical to begin with. The power of fans! I think playlist wise it was well put together to show geek music, i did actually send it to friends to explain what filk is because it turns out none of my friends has ever heard the term filk before. Which is very surreal to me

Lastly i got recommended three songs from the hadestown soundtrack from @carmineskies67 and i wasnt really into it but musical wise i can absolutely understand for sure. For me the biggest standout was why we build the wall, because i found the influence it takes in uhhh i cant remember the name of the genre i am thinking of!! Blues? Gospel? Both? Really interesting and well executed. It was the standout song for me personally

Thank you for all the recommendations!! I was gonna make this sooner but i got overwhelmed with theme week drawings and then i could only type one handed for a while and making a long post got hard. Im still always up for music recs even if itll take me a few centuries to tell you whether i like them lol

[heliads]

Hello, I hope you are having a good day or evening, I just wanted to ask what fics do u have lined up? 🙏😁

hello anon, i hope you have a good day or evening as well!

5/19: so, before you go chapter eight (darkling x reader)

5/21: bones mccoy x reader (grishaverse au)

5/23: matthias helvar x reader (enemies to friends to lovers)

5/25: charles leclerc x reader (reader is ferrari head of pr)

5/27: andrew peter parker x reader (simple headcanons)

5/29: clove x reader (reader helps clove train for the games)

5/31: tom peter parker x reader (male reader is fighting in wakanda during infinity war, they're worried about each other through the blip)

6/1: billy rocks x reader (the magnificent seven but a grishaverse au, i am so so excited to write this, june cannot come quickly enough)

6/3: tewkesbury x reader (both of them are lovesick idiots)

6/5: han solo x reader (escapades w han + singing to get out of a crisis)

6/7: race x reader (reader is brooklyn's second in command)

6/9: peter pevensie x reader (reader is a knight with a gay crisis, i am shrieking, raven i love you for sending this in)

6/11: jack wilder x reader (reader is a paramedic and jack keeps mildly injuring himself so she can fix him up)

6/13: newt x reader (gally's trademarked beverage as a plot device)

6/15: peter pevensie x reader (headcanons for having to live in london after spending so long in narnia)

6/17: finch x reader (the newsies are hanging out, he has a crush)

6/19: daniel atlas x reader (reader volunteers to be a part of a trick, he gets shy)

6/21: newt x reader (tmr modern au, they sit next to each other in class)

6/23: race higgins x reader (race + reader are on a date but get jumped and they must recover emotionally from that)

6/25: kai parker x reader (kai redemption era)

6/27: lucy pevensie x reader (lucy has a girlfriend and gets up the courage to introduce them to the siblings, this is when they're all kings and queens)

6/29: zoya nazyalensky x reader (reader is zoya's #1 fan bc zoya saved them from attack one time, reader is hurt by somebody and zoya nearly becomes a supervillain bc of it)

7/1: andrew peter parker x reader (male reader is peter's best friend but when peter gets bitten by the spider, he stops hanging out with reader as much, angst ensues)

plus bonus non requests that i get to tack onto the end of my queue bc i am the author and i need to clear through some of my unwritten ideas:

7/3: eric coulter x reader (reader was from amity but now tattoos, idk commentary on art surviving in a place like dauntless you get my drift)

7/5: jesper fahey x reader (this quote specifically that has been in my inbox for months: but how long? how long until i blend into the background and i'm no longer unusual? what will you do when i'm no longer a bet that calls your interest or a gamble worth the odds?)

7/7: eowyn x reader (eowyn thinks she dislikes reader bc reader is a girl and can fight but eowyn can't, in reality that's not jealousy but a repressed crush on a girl, we've all had them before)

7/9: brocedes fic (idk the plot yet i just want it to hurt)

7/11: peter pan x reader (reader can visit neverland when she's dreaming, she goes there often enough that she wants to live there forever, she asks peter to take her but he hesitates, she decides to never dream of him again, eventually he shows up in person bc he misses her)

7/13: carlos sainz x leclerc!reader (i had an idea when i should have been studying for finals and now it's all of your problem)

yeah requests aren't going to be open for a while lol

[munsons-maiden]

Ok so in your response to anon talking about Eddie being a dick(lol) I realized something about Eddie being a virgin. Lucas says “I’m tired of girls laughing at us” people like to say “Eddie’s a bad boy and girls like bad boys he’s absolutely getting 🐱” except he’s not a bad boy, he’s a loser, with his “loser” friends who gets laughed at by everyone including girls. Now Billy, HE was a bad boy through and through. From the information given to us, Mike, Dustin, and (kinda) Lucas are the only ones in hellfire who have girlfriends, and for two of them the only reason they were able to bond:get together is due to having to deal with the upside down. And Dustin’s gf is long distance, not at all part of the social fabric of Hawkins high/Hawkins. If it weren’t for that Mike and Lucas would likely not be talking to any girls at all. Girls.. where?? Also in the upside down when Eddie and steve are talking & Eddie’s listing all the reasons he wouldn’t have gone down to save him, he seems to list all the things steve has that Eddie doesn’t: money, looks, social status, “chicks love him” etc. Eddie wouldn’t see this as a thing to point this out if him getting it was a norm for him. It’s something he observes happening, not something he personally experiences. People can HC whatever they want but if the D bros meant to make Eddie a “bad boy that gets chicks on the side” they absolutely would have written that in. Look at billy and Steve. Steve still talks about having tons of meaningless sex & how he’s the reason skull rock is the hookup spot.

I completely agree with you. Again, I don't mean to bash anyone's headcanons, but those are the reasons why I'm certain Eddie is a virgin (or at least very inexperienced).

[dckweed]

Heyyy I LOVE your writing!!!!

I was wondering if you could do a Billy Hargrove fic like a super long one like the AMAZING Fez one that you did.

I was wondering if you could do one where the reader is Billy’s girlfriend they have an amazing relationship shes on the Hawkins’s track team and she’s the top Long distance runner and he’s the best basketball player they go to each others games and races etc.

She’s basically the girl known around Hawkins High who tamed Billy Hargrove lol (we all know how much of an asshole he is).

Billy is extremely protective, loving, touchy, clingy and at times possessive of her ESPECIALLY at parties. I was thinking of a story line they went to a party together as she goes away to the bathroom after he does his keg stand stand and she gets sexually assaulted in the bathroom maybe by his best friend Tommy H.

One of her good friends (maybe Nancy Wheeler) finds her afterwards in a shocked state after it happened the reader begs her friend to NOT tell Billy and keep the secret because he’s just gotten his anger issues under control and she doesn’t want his progress to go away because he would absolutely murder the person who did that to his girl!! When they get home she keeps flinching under his touch and it scares him and he keeps saying that he won’t hurt her and why is she scared of him

When she comes back from the bathroom she has to pretend to be okay even tho she’s traumatised Billy immediately knows something is wrong but her friend stands up for her when Billy starts interrogating her about why she looks so upset.

Anyways they go home and he just keeps asking if she’s okay because she’s shaking and looks terrified. They get into a big fight about her not telling him everything like she usually does then she has a massive panic attack and starts sobbing and wailing. He is supporting her through the panic attack then he decides to not ask her anymore because she is clearly very upset he pulls her into his lap and she falls asleep they wake up the next morning and she tells him everything and she has to BEG him not to do anything because she’s embarrassed. And maybe he helps her go to hopper and report it and he’s super supportive and sweet to her.

You can choose what happens the morning when he wakes up with her still asleep on his lap but super fluffy and sweet hahaha. Pet names like sweetheart, baby, sweet girl and pretty girl are the best too btw hahaha

Lol I’m so sorry this was so long but I read an Eddie Munson fic similar to all this^^ and it was AMAZING and I think you write Billy Hargroves character SO well.

I am so sorry I didn’t realise how long this was hahaha and only do this if your comfortable of course I just think you would do so well at this because your amazing at writing especially for Billy x

Love your writing SOOOO much xxx

hi love, thank you much for the compliments but i definitely didn't write that fez one! i reblogged it from the original author with a comment to show my followers how amazing it was because it definitely is a masterpiece!

i tried. the entire time this was in my asks and my drafts, i tried..i apologize sincerely but i genuinely cannot write this, for the sake of my own mental health.

i am actually extremely uncomfortable with sexual assault scenarios due to something that happened to me in my childhood, and while i wanted to accept the challenge..the more i looked at this and tried to start it, the more the memories have been at the forefront of my mind, i haven't slept in over a week due to nightmares alone..im sorry..

request literally anything else and i can do it..just nothing like this..

[rogeriswater]

Don't Leave Me Now

xxxiv

This work contains fictionalized versions of real events and people. Most details won’t be accurate to real life.

tags for this chapter: kind of angsty? maggie is conflicted and can't make up her damn mind lol, smut (fingering, oral sex f receiving)

~m.r~

Today was Roger and Judy's party. I feel like the initial shock of them getting married has finally passed and now I'm over it. Did I still love Roger? Absolutely. But I was also falling back in love with Billy. I was feeling like I once did while we were in high school. I wanted to spend every waking moment with him. I had been a little clingy around Billy lately, but I don't think he minded.

I was in the backyard, making sure the big table we had was set up nicely. I wasn't so keen on the garden that we now had. Billy had hired some gardeners but they didn't do it the way I would've liked. I didn't say anything, however. I just paid and thanked the men as they left.

"Here's some more plates" Olivia announced as she brought out the dishes. She settled into our home quite nicely. It didn't take long for Billy and I to get used to our presence. One thing I've noticed, is she tends to hover around Billy whenever he's home. I found it amusing how she had a crush on him. That being said, she did respect our privacy whenever Billy and I wanted to be alone.

"Thank you, Liv" She proceeded to place the plates around the table.

"I've gotta tell you, Maggie, I'm a little nervous about meeting your band" Olivia mentioned, rubbing her hands together. "I've never met anyone famous before"

I chuckled. "Are you forgetting I'm in that same band?" I put my hand on her shoulder. "Just talk to them like you talk to me, okay?"

Olivia nodded and smiled. "Well then, that'll be easy!"

I felt two hands on my waist. That could only be my husband. "It's looking absolutely lovely out here, ladies" Billy complimented.

I leaned my head back against Billy's shoulder. "Not as lovely as you, my beloved" I purred to him.

Billy smirked. "Beloved? That's a new one"

"Well you are my beloved" I said before giving him a kiss. It was meant to be short and sweet but it never could just be that anymore.

Olivia cleared her throat, making us pull apart from each other. "As cute as y'all are, maybe refrain from the making out when your guests get here" Just as she said that, our doorbell rang. "Speaking of which, your first guest is here"

I went to go answer the door. It was Ronnie and Sandy. "You seem awfully happy today" Ronnie noted as she and Sandy stepped inside the house.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked.

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe because your hosting a party celebrating the marriage for the guy you're in love with"

"My sweet silly sister" I said as I pat her head. "I'm in love with Billy, my husband, remember?"

Ronnie eyed me cautiously. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course" I'm not sure why my sister was acting like it's so crazy of me to love my husband again.

Sandy put her hand on Ronnie's arm. "Vee, if Maggie says she's okay, then she's okay"

Ronnie sighed. "You're right, you're right. I'm sorry, Maggie, it just seems a little weird that you— oh, hello" I saw the Ronnie looking at Olivia. "Who are you?"

"I'm Olivia" She introduced herself. "Maggie and Billy hired me as the nanny"

Ronnie looked at me again. "Nanny, huh? I thought you weren't too keen on the idea"

"Yeah, well that was until Olivia stumbled into our lives" I said. "Olivia, this is my sister Ronnie and her girlfriend Sandy"

Olivia smiled at them. "Pleased to meet both of you"

Sandy returned the smile. "You too, Olivia" She followed Olivia to the backyard while Ronnie stayed behind with me.

"What were you saying before?" I asked my sister.

"Oh, it's not important" Ronnie shrugged off. "I'm glad to see you and Billy are doing better though"

I smiled. "Thank you"

~

All our other guests slowly arrived. I was pleased to see that even Steve showed up with his wife, Linda. The only people who had yet to arrive were the people I was throwing this party for. It always seemed that those two were last to arrive anywhere. The doorbell rang one last time, indicating their arrival. I went to go answer the door. "There you two are!" I greeted Roger and Judy. "I was worried you guys weren't going to show up"

Roger chuckled. "Miss a party you're throwing for us? No way" Roger seemed happy, with his arm slung around Judy's shoulder. Judy though, she seemed rather sad.

"It's good to see you Jude" I said, trying to lift her spirits.

She looked at me and forced a smile. "Thanks, Mags. You too"

"We're all just in the backyard" I told them. They followed me to the backyard.

When Billy noticed us, he raised his glass. "Hey everyone, the couple of the hour is finally here!" That made everyone else clap and cheer. Billy got up from the table and walked towards us. Judy's sadness seemed to disappear when she saw Billy coming. She stood up straighter and she smiled. First thing Billy did was grasp Roger's hand and shake it. "Congratulations, man!" This was the first time I've seen Billy be so genuinely friendly with Roger. Even Roger seemed surprised. "I'm real happy for you both"

"Thanks!" Roger said. And for once, he was being friendly too.

When Billy was about to talk to Judy, I found it odd how quickly she jumped at the chance to hug him. Billy seemed surprised but he hugged her back nonetheless. "Happy for you, Judy"

Judy didn't say anything. She just continued to smile, and her hug on Billy became tighter, like she refused to let him go. That didn't sit right with me. Especially knowing that she initiated kisses with him before. I wanted to pry her off of Billy but I had to restrain myself. Is this how Roger felt whenever he saw Billy and I together like this?

To my relief, Judy finally let go of Billy. She wouldn't look at me or even Roger. She would only look at Billy. I placed my hand on Billy's arm. "Honey" I addressed him. Out of my peripheral, I noticed the glare Judy gave me when I called him that. "Can I talk to you inside please?"

"Sure" Billy nodded. He followed me inside while Roger and Judy went to go take their seats at the table. "Is everything alright, my love?"

I sighed and crossed my arms. "I didn't like the way she was hugging you"

"It was just a hug" Billy tried to tell me.

"It's not just the hug! It's just, she's so mopey around Roger, and then she sees you and it's like she's taken coke or something" I didn't even realize my eyes were tearing until Billy wiped one away. "I don't get it. You'd think she'd be more happy that she's now finally married to her childhood sweetheart"

"Maggie, my love, calm down, okay?" Billy said softly as he cupped my face. "I'm sure she is happy with Roger. Maybe they aren't just too public about it"

"She wants to steal you away from me" A little over a month ago, I was worried about her and Roger, but now here I was, worrying about that same thing, but this time it was about her and Billy, my husband.

"She isn't going to steal me away" Billy promised me. He brushed his fingers along my face. "Not when I'm so devoted to you" Hearing him say that made me feel a bit better. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "I love you and only you"

"I love you too" I said. Billy and I grabbed hands and we made our way back outside. I noticed right away how Roger and Judy were sitting apart from each other. That's funny. This is a party celebrating their marriage. You'd think they want to sit together. They left just enough space for Billy and I to sit together.

I made Billy sit next to Roger, who was deep in some conversation with my sister. The two of them kept looking over at me. What were they talking about exactly? That left me sitting next to Judy. I noted her disappointment. I think she was hoping for Billy to sit next to her. "Jude, I thought you and Roger would want to sit together" I mentioned to her.

"Oh, well, we've already spent so much time together at home" Judy said. "I see you and Billy are closer than ever" I could sense the bitterness in her tone. What is wrong with her? She has her own husband now. Why does she want mine?

"We are. Something happened on that trip to Scotland and ever since then, we don't want to leave each other's side"

"Well, I'm glad things have gotten better between you two" Judy smiled at me. She rubbed my arm. I just knew she didn't mean that, but I also knew she was just trying to be nice. We've become really good friends lately and I don't think either of us wanted that to be ruined.

~

It was getting dark and colder outside, so we moved the party inside. Right now, I was talking with Steve and Linda. "Are you going to be alright touring?" Steve asked me.

"I'll be fine. Besides, it's mostly an English tour. I won't be that far from home" I said.

"We saw you in the papers the other day" Linda mentioned as she took a sip of her drink. "Made friends with the McCartneys"

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Have you, Mags? When did that happen?"

"Turns out Paul owns the farm next to ours in Scotland" I explained.

"If Paul ever needs to "borrow" you for a track or album, you be the first to let me know, alright?" Steve said as he pat my arm.

I chuckled at that. "Will do, Rourkie!" After that, I had excused myself to use the bathroom. It was getting to that point in my pregnancy where I'd have to use the loo more often but that's what happens when you got a baby that's starting to push down on your bladder. After I was done and had come out of the bathroom, I wasn't really paying attention and walked straight into Roger. His arms wrapped around me to keep me from falling. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry Rog"

"No, no, it's fine sunshine" He assured me. I tried to step away but he kept his arms around me.

"Uh, Rog?"

"Huh? Oh, right" He muttered, letting me go.

"The bathroom is yours now" I said.

"That's not why I followed you up here, sunshine" Roger said. He lightly grabbed my arm and leaned in so that his nose was nuzzling into my hair. "I miss you so much"

"Roger..." I started but he shushed me by putting his finger to my lips.

"Let me talk, darling" I kept quiet as he continued to speak. "We can't act like we're doing okay, being apart from each other. I sure as hell am not. Please, let's just go back to the way things were"

"Roger, we can't"

"Don't give me that bullshit excuse of because I'm married now. I'm fucking miserable in this marriage because she's not you! And Judy, well, I think she's more miserable than me. I'm the one that tries to touch her and she wretches away from me like I disgust her"

"I'm sorry, Roger" I said.

"I've been really trying to make this marriage work, Mags. I really have been. But between Judy not even wanting to kiss me anymore, and me wishing that she was you, I can't fucking do it anymore! I'm gonna divorce her. I don't give a shit. I'm gonna divorce her, and then you can divorce Billy, and then we can be together" When Roger mentioned me divorcing Billy, there was a sharp pang in my stomach, like the idea of leaving Billy actually hurt me. "What's wrong, sunshine?"

"I...I can't leave, Billy" I said.

Roger chuckled, almost like he thought I was joking. "Of course you can. You have the divorce papers ready to go"

"No, I mean, I don't want to" I said.

Roger scoffed. "Don't tell me you love him again" My silence gave me the answer he needed. Yet, he didn't seem upset with me. "Maggie, you don't actually love him. You're just deluding yourself into thinking you do because of what I did. And I'm sorry that I did that. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done and it pushed you away from me. But you don't have to pretend that you love him anymore"

"But I'm not pretending!" I tried really hard to convince. Though was I trying to convince Roger, or myself?

Roger cupped my face. "I love you, Maggie. And I will never stop loving you. I know you still love me too" His lips pressed against mine. I tried to push him away, but I couldn't. Not when his kiss was so intoxicating. His lips parted slightly from mine. "Which room is the bedroom?" I brought him into the bedroom. We both sat down on the bed. He stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. "You wanna know something? I can't each peaches without thinking of you"

"Yeah?" I said, smiling a bit.

"Every time I eat one, I'm reminded of your cunt and how sweet you taste, especially when you cum" I found myself growing wet at his words. Roger's hand went to my thigh. His hand slid up under my dress until it reached my knickers. He pushed them aside and he started rubbing circles on my clit. "Christ, you're so wet"

I grabbed onto his shirt and gripped the fabric. I buried my face into his neck. "Roger"

"You missed this, didn't you?" He whispered in my ear. His fingers moved from my clit and then he plunged them inside of me. "I did too" My hands went to his belt, but Roger stopped me. "Don't worry about me right now, darling"

"But, Rog—"

"Shh" Roger put his finger to my lips. The one that was just inside of me. I could faintly taste myself. "Lay down for me, yeah?" I laid down as he asked me to do. My legs were hanging over the edge of the bed. Roger took his shirt off. He kneeled in front of me. He gently grasped my calves and pushed my legs open. "There's that lovely pussy. It's just begging to be licked"

"Roger, please" I couldn't take it any more. I needed his mouth on me.

"Just tell me one thing, and then I'll give you what you want, darling. Can he eat your cunt the way I do?" I felt Roger's hot breath against my aching sex.

"No, he can't" I truthfully said.

Roger smirked. "That's my girl" He dove right in like a man starved. He started by flicking his tongue against my clit. Then, after a few moments of that, he did something new. His lips wrapped around my clit and he started sucking. The sensation of that was phenomenal.

"Fucking hell!" I cried out in pleasure. Where did he figure out how to do that? While he continued on with that, he slipped his finger inside of me again. I sat up so I could watch him. I pushed his hair back so I could see his face. He looked like he was in absolute heaven. The way his eyes were closed and the noises he was making. Roger certainly loved giving me pleasure as much as he enjoyed receiving it. Possibly even more.

"Taste so fucking good" Roger groaned. "Missed this so fucking much" He proceeded to put two more fingers inside of me. I winced a bit at the feeling of him stretching me out. "If you can take my cock, I know you can take two more fingers"

"I can't help it, it's been awhile.." I moaned.

Roger clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "Is he fucking you right?" He then chuckled. "Of course he's not. I'm the only one who can"

"C... mhm!!" The moan over took what I wanted to say.

"What is it, my dirty little minx? Use your words"

"Cock. I want your cock!"

"Only if you cum on my tongue first" Roger said. He took his fingers out of me and then proceeded to fuck me with his tongue. It darted in and out of me, and he licked against my walls every so often. His thumb was pressed down on my clit rubbing fast circles. The wet noises were so vulgar and it only helped bring me closer to euphoria. Before I knew it, I was seeing white spots in my vision as I gushed all over his tongue.

"ROGER!" I shouted his name to the heavens above, not caring in this moment if anyone downstairs heard us, as my thighs clamped around his head. I was careful enough not to suffocate him. He licked me clean before he pulled his head away.

He stood up and gripped my jaw gently. He tipped my head back. "Open your mouth" When he said that, I knew what he was going to do. As soon as my mouth was open, he was spitting into it. It wasn't just him I was tasting, but myself as well. "Good girl" He purred as he stroked my hair. "Face or mouth?"

"I want it in my cunt" I told him.

"You're not getting it in your cunt today. Which one is it going to be? On your face or in your mouth?"

"Face" I decided.

Roger kneeled on the bed beside me. He undid his his belt and unzipped his pants. He pushed them down enough to free his hard big fat cock. He wrapped his hand around it and started stroking himself. Eating me out must have made him pretty worked up because it didn't take long before he was cumming on my face. "Fuck!" He groaned. Once he was done, he smirked down at me. "You should see the mess I left" He chuckled as he slapped his cock against my face a couple of times. "Tempted to have you go downstairs with my cum all over your pretty face"

"You're so naughty" I said to him.

"Only when it comes to you" Roger went into the en-suite bathroom. When he came back out, he had a wet cloth in hand. He stood in front of my and cupped my chin as he wiped his spend from my face. "Let's be honest with ourselves, love. We know we can never just be friends. Not with the way we feel about each other. You can't just push feelings that intense aside"

Roger was right. I knew when I told him we should just be friends, there was a part nagging at me telling me it was never going to be like that between us. "I know... but it's wrong"

"How can it be though when being with you feels the way it does?"

"But, we're both married now and—"

"Rings on fingers don't mean shit unless there is feeling behind them. And frankly, I don't love Judy anymore. You want to know the only reason I married her? Because when you were gone and I went without hearing a phone call, I thought you didn't love me anymore and I was using her to forget about you. To move on. But clearly, that didn't work much, did it?"

"Rog, I'm so sorry"

"You didn't do anything wrong, sunshine. I was the idiot. I married her and by doing that, I pushed you right back into his arms" Roger kneeled in front of me and grabbed my hands. "Look, if you want to stay married to Billy, if you want me to stay married to Judy, then fine. I can accept that. But what I won't accept, is not being with you. If sneaking around is the way we have to be together, then so be it. Just please, don't ever leave me"

"I won't ever leave you again, Roger, I promise"

He grinned, grabbed my face and then kissed me. "You will be my wife someday though, love. I don't care how long I have to wait"

"Maybe you won't have to wait too long" I said. Roger and I agreed it was time to head back downstairs. He went first and I waited several minutes before going back downstairs, as to make it not look too suspicious. As soon as I got back downstairs, I ran into Olivia. She was giving me a strange look. "Is everything okay, Liv?"

The strange look was quickly replaced with a smile. "Yes, Maggie, everything is just fine. I've gotten to know all your bandmates and their gals. They seem like such sweethearts"

I smiled and put my hand on Olivia's arm. "I'm glad to hear that"

"But if I'm being honest, the only one that rubs me the wrong way is Judy"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just the way she's been making googly eyes at Billy all day"

My jaw ticked. "I'm sure it's nothing, Liv, but I appreciate your concern"

Olivia nodded and smiled. "They are outside right now, if you want to talk to her"

"Thanks Liv" I made my way to the backyard. Before I went outside, I peeked through the glass on the doors. Sure enough, I saw Billy and Judy sitting on the porch swings. I opened the door and poked my head outside.

Billy smiled when he saw me. "Maggie!"

"Hi honey. May I borrow Judy for a moment?"

"Of course you can borrow me" Judy said. She got off the porch swing and followed me inside. I brought her into the kitchen which was empty of people, save for the two of us. "Is everything alright?"

I leaned against the kitchen counter and sighed. "Is it true that you kissed Billy?"

I saw the colour leave Judy's face. "How did you—"

"Billy told me"

Judy sighed and she ran her hand through her hair. "Yes, we've kissed. Several times"

"When was the first time?"

"It was while you guys were performing and Billy and I were in mine and Roger's dressing room. I—er—climbed onto his lap and kissed him"

I remained stoic. "Okay"

Judy stepped closer to me. "That's done between us now, Maggie, I swear. And it never went beyond kissing"

"I believe you"

Judy sighed with relief. "I'm sorry. I hope this doesn't make you wanna stop being friends"

"As long as you don't try anything with my husband"

"I promise I won't"

"And that means stop making longing gazes at him too"

"What? I haven't—"

"I'm not blind, Jude"

"Okay, okay, I'll stop"

"Good. And I just have one more question, if you don't mind?" Judy nodded, which prompted me to continue. "You love Roger, don't you? And you're happy to be married to him?"

"Of course I am"

Why was I doing this? It was so hypocritical of me to be upset with Judy for being really close with my husband, yet I'm messing around with hers. But it was conflicting because I love Roger and I can't bear to stay away from him, and yet I was slowly falling back in love with Billy and I didn't want him to decide he's done with me. I blame you pregnancy hormones!

"Good. Roger's happy too, y'know? Even if he doesn't show it" I told her.

Judy smiled at me. "I know he does" And with that, Judy left me alone. I turned around and placed my head down on the counter. What I really wanted to do was open the window and scream but I refrained from doing so.

"Magpie?" I heard my brother's voice. I could feel him stand beside me along with somebody else. I knew that the other person had to be Ronnie.

"I'm such a fucking hypocrite"

"How so, pup?" Ronnie asked me.

"I want Judy to stay away from my husband, yet I can't keep myself away from hers" I stood up straight again. I felt the tears running down my face. "What the fuck do I do? I love Billy, I really do but then Roger comes prancing into my life and he makes me fall in love with him"

"Do you want my advice?" Ronnie asked,

"Not really but you're going to tell me anyway"

"I think because Roger is married now, you're just tricking yourself into thinking you're falling back in love with Billy because it's the only way you can accept that Roger is married"

"You sound just like Catherine" I mentioned my therapist.

"How long has it been since you've seen her, by the way?" Lee questioned.

"I don't know. Close to five years?"

"Do you think it's time you see her again?"

"After all the shit I said to her the last time I saw her!? She'll never take me back"

"You won't know until you try, magpie"

"I suppose" I put my hand on my stomach as a thought came to my head. "Is it bad I want this baby to be Roger's? It would definitely make things more clear for me"

"Whether that baby comes out looking like Billy or Roger, we know in the end it's gonna be Rog you end up with" Ronnie seemed so confident about it.

At that moment, Billy came into the kitchen. He saw the three of us. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nothing at all" Ronnie said before she and Lee left the two of us alone.

"What was that about?" Billy asked me the moment they left.

"Just some sibling talk" I told him.

"Hmm" Billy hummed in response. He stepped closer to me. He turned me around so that my back was pressed against him. His arms wrapped around my stomach and he gently started to rock me from side to side. "You know, I've been thinking about something"

"You thinking? That's never good" I teased him.

Billy chuckled. "I promise this time it is. The baby is gonna need a friend"

"Where are you going with this?" I asked.

"Where I'm going with this, is that I'm thinking we need to get a cat or a dog"

My eyes lit up at the idea. I've always wanted a pet. I never got the chance to have one, however as Steve was against the idea of having an animal in the house. "That's not a bad idea"

"Wonderful! Because you know, I've read that it's good to get a pet to have the baby to bond with" Billy said with excitement.

It really did warm my heart to see how happy he was that he was gonna be a father soon. There were two possibilities here. This baby comes out looking like Billy, or it comes out looking like Roger. And either way it plays out, someone is going to be heartbroken in the end. Though, if I'm unlucky, this baby will look like me, and then I'll never know who the father is unless I do a DNA test.

"Billy, can you promise me something?" I asked him.

"Of course, my love. Anything" He said.

"You better be the best damn father to this child. I didn't have a father and the one I did get stuck with treated me like garbage. Promise me, no matter what, you will love this child like it's yours"

Billy raised his eyebrow. "Well of course I will because that is my child. Is there any reason it wouldn't be?" Oh shit. I was saying too much.

"No, of course not. I just really don't want you to be an absent father is all. I don't want the baby to come and realize that you don't want to be a father, then you leave me and I'll have to raise the baby all by myself—"

"Hey, hey" Billy said calmly as he cupped my face. "That's not gonna happen"

I sighed. "I know"

"And had your dad survived, he would've been there for you, every single day. You know that, right?"

"I do"

"Good" Billy kissed my forehead. "And you're gonna be a great mum"

I scoffed. "I doubt it. How am I gonna be a good mum when I'm gonna be touring or in the studio all the time?"

"You're going to be doing that stuff for him or her. To provide them with the best life they can possibly have. That already makes you a fantastic mum"

"Speaking of mums.... have you told yours yet?"

"Oh...er..."

"You haven't, have you?"

"You know how she's gonna react" Billy sighed.

"Yeah but still, she deserves to know she's gonna be a grandma. She may not like me, but surely, she'd love her grandchild" I told Billy.

"Yeah, you're right"

"Do you think we should rejoin the party? I hear speeches" I suggested.

"You should give one. This party was your idea after all" With that, Billy and I made our way into the living room, where everyone was gathered, giving their speeches about Roger and Judy.

"There's the gracious host!" Nick said when he saw me. He raised his glass and started to chant. "Speech! Speech!" Everyone else began to chant it as well.

"Alright, alright" I grabbed my glass of water that I had, since I wasn't allowed to have any alcoholic drinks. I started tapping my nails lightly against it. "First off, I would like to say how sorry I am that I missed your wedding. I would have loved to have been there. But, I'm really happy for you guys and I just know that you two will be together for a very long time" I raised my glass. "Here's to Roger and Judy, and many happy years together!"

I observed the two of them closely as I made my speech. The two of them were sitting close together, with Roger having his arm draped over her shoulder. But, really, they couldn't be further apart. Judy had a sad smile on her face and she wouldn't even look Roger's way. And as for Roger, well, he kept looking at me, with that look of longing and love. If this was how it was going to be between them, I don't think their marriage would last very long. I'd be surprised if they even last a year together. It made me feel guilty at how my marriage had been getting better. Still, I was gonna try to hold out hope for them, despite the fact that Roger and I had decided to continue on with our affair.

[calliettes-posts]

Funny you mentioned the positive impact being unlabeled would bring, because Harry has said he’s unlabeled and only his close friends and family truly “know”, whatever that means. But he’s been accused multiple times of queerbaiting, so while remaining unlabeled can have a positive impact, it can also bring a lot of negativity to their images. This is not to say that he should ever come out because of that. No one should be forced to come out, but this is just a general observation.

I also don't think he should ever come out, and he has impacted the queer community in a positive way at times, but at the same time, he says some things that don't make sense at all? Like the whole "gay sex in meadia is just two men going at eachother", I still want to know what he watched to come to this conclusion lol, and this can also impact the community negatively, when a successful Popstar makes a statement like this, I feel he needs to be more intentional/thoughtful when it comes to queer issues and topics as a whole, not about his sexuality, because I think that's the issue some people have with him imo

And also it feels like he doubles down on things that are so trivial if it makes sense? Like the whole "I haven't been with anyone publicly" when he has a whole girlfriend?? Which, if that relationship is really PR, somebody forgot to tell him, because he's making no effort to actually "claim" Olivia as his partner

And I think the biggest issue is not even him directly, but his fans, for example, where thry harasses Billy Porter for saying that he isn't the first male celeb to dress gender non-conforming (which is true), to the point where he even apologised (!!!) To Harry (!!!!!), its like he's seen as this pioneer by his fans, when there are people, especially bipoc celebs, who have done this for YEARS, but that's a topic for another day

So long story short, I don't think anyone, even a celeb should ever come out if they don't want to, but they need to be a bit more thoughtful when it comes to speaking on the issues on communities they're trying to represent/help, and stan culture ruins everything as usual lol

[pancakehouse]

hi hello <33 ok so ik im in here early but i saw this in my notifs and i couldn’t resist. hmm can i have iridescent, tea, and sunrise please <33 (hope you have the warmest, coziest, sleepiest day off ever xx)

hiii you! lol completely forgot i put this game on queue was so confused when this ask came in but what a TREAT past me was so real so much whimsy in her heart <3 currently curled up in bed so the day is starting perfectly!!!! mwah xo

iridescent: what is your skincare routine?

HUGE opening question!!!! big skincare fanatic love a korean or french product the mostest if it has either stamps on label i WILL buy it. unfortunately my skin is v sensitive and introducing new products is a long/arduous process in order to prevent breakouts so a years-long learning curve has heavily taught me less is more :// so i do not use any serums or essences (cue tragic heart wrenching soundtrack here) and keep it v minimalistic!!! but without further ado …

AM: micellar water / moisturizer / sunscreen

PM: oil cleanser / face wash / exfoliate (2-3x per week - lactic acid 10% or physical exf) / tretinoin (my girlfriend my wife my holy grail) / moisturizer / moisturizer take 2 (she is soooo dry) / eye cream (useless? prob) / vaseline for lips

tea: favorite films?

not a huge film bro but my top 2 i watch to death they are sick of me they’re like girl leave us ALONE !!! and they are: she’s the man & miracle

sunrise: favorite musical artists?

def most listened to artists are t swift adele and one direction <3 but on my cooler days i throw some bruce springsteen billy joel and pink floyd into the mix <3 (and lee brice if im owning up to my country music tendencies)

ask game!

[lonelier-version-of-you]

Sorry for the Henruss rant that is about to ensue, I know I’ve basically said all this a million times. Being reminded recently of their ridiculous breakup scene just got me annoyed again.

I just still can’t believe that we got an angry, shouty Henruss breakup scene and it was Russ initiating it because he was mad Henrik didn’t tell him about his teenage daughter’s pregnancy. Rather than what it very obviously should have been: Henrik being overcome by his internalised homophobia and Gaskell trauma, getting scared, and pushing Russ away, insisting he was wrong about being interested in Russ and that he only likes women, insisting he can’t have a healthy relationship with a man because he tried before and look how it ended.

Henruss having drama and taking ages to get properly together wasn’t a problem. I mean, it’s Henrik. Any relationship he has, especially with another man, is going to be a long, angsty journey at best. To expect a fluffy romcom relationship when Henrik Hanssen is involved would be setting oneself up for disappointment. (He maybe could’ve had that with Carole, or something in that general vein at least, but then that storyline was dropped so... yeah.)

But why did the drama and angst come from... Russ’s daughter being pregnant?? (And Russ somehow not having noticed, which was just ridiculous.) What was the point in that?

It would’ve been one thing if Holby wasn’t cancelled and still had hour-long episodes, maybe then they could have run it as a subplot alongside proper character work, but as it was it was just a weird storyline that made no sense (there were absolutely no signs Billie was pregnant when she was brought into hospital before, surely realistically it would’ve been discovered then?) and took up time that really shouldn’t have been.

I was cheering when S23E47 aired and Henrik finally did what I’d been expecting him to do much sooner - snapping at Russ and pushing him away. (I love that plot point. It would’ve been utterly out of character if Henrik had just been like “oh, Russ isn’t upset with me about Billie anymore, time to happily get back together with him!”.) But it was just far too little, far too late, especially as a Johnrik fan. It still felt like it was more about Henrik’s self-loathing and inability to believe he can be loved in general, rather than any meaningful exploration of Henrik’s struggle to accept his bisexuality, IMO.

I feel like the show was terrified of exploring Henruss meaningfully in the context of it being a relationship between two men, and they just wanted to treat it like it wasn’t any different than a relationship between a man and a woman. And yes, to some people and characters, there wouldn’t be a difference, and that’s okay. But to Henrik, with the context of his life experiences, of course there would be a difference! His relationship with Russ would not be the same in his eyes as his relationship with Maja! (Lol at how Maja is literally the only actual girlfriend Henrik’s had and thus the only point of comparison I can use, unless you believe Elle Gardner was joking when she said she’d never actually been with Henrik.) Henrik grew up and then came of age/went to med school/started his career in a massively homophobic and biphobic era, and that would’ve affected him a lot, especially as he’s known of his bisexuality at least since med school if not sooner.

Anyway, this all comes back, fundamentally, to how bitter I still am that the show didn’t let Henrik properly talk about his feelings for John. It’s pretty much canon that Henrik was about to come out for John in John’s last few episodes, only for everything that happened to shove him back into the closet (I really don’t know how to take the “I did not know John Gaskell” scene in S20E47 if it’s not supposed to be Henrik re-closeting himself). So why didn’t Henrik get to talk about that in his literal coming out storyline?? (And why didn’t he get to call himself bisexual, for that matter?)

As I always say, Russ wouldn’t exist if John hadn’t paved the way by being Henrik’s first male love interest. Henrik would have been written as a heterosexual man ‘til the end of the show if not for John. So it was utterly disrespectful to the Johnrik relationship to pretend it never happened in favour of lumbering Henruss with silly relationship drama that could work equally well for a straight couple.

And I mean, Billie was a cute character and all, and I always have and always will love the idea of Henrik having a teenage step-daughter - I’m deeply, deeply grateful Holby somehow managed to refrain from giving Henrik his 50000th Replacement Son. If they��d involved her in the story without doing the whole pregnancy arc, I would’ve loved that (seeing her coming to grips with her dad moving on from her other dad and starting a new relationship, and what that means for her life, could’ve been interesting!). We’ve hardly ever seen him being parental with girls and young women, there was Tara and that’s it, so giving Henrik’s love interest a daughter was a refreshing move.

But if they wanted to make the storyline focus on drama from a teenage pregnancy, with Henrik’s issues with relationships and struggle to believe he can be loved as a side plot thread, they really, really should have just given Henrik a girlfriend. It would have been a perfectly fine storyline if we were talking about, idk, Rebecca instead of Russ. (You’d have to change S23E43, maybe, although even then you could’ve just generalised Henrik’s talk with Serena about coming out into one about relationships in general quite easily.) I would have been just as happy to see Henrik settle down with a nice woman as I was to see him with a nice man. If Holby weren’t ready to fully delve into Henrik’s internalised homophobia and self-loathing about his attraction to men, then they could’ve simply never gone there in the first place.

Sigh.

Rant over. I feel a lot better now I’ve gotten this off my chest, lol. (Also, if this reads like it was written at 1am, that’s because most of it was, I started drafting it up a couple days ago and then impulsively wrote basically the entire rest of the post last night, but I forgot to post it before I went to bed so, yeah, here it is now.)

[introverted-author]

Questions 11, 12, 16, 20, 23, 26, 29, 31, 38, 39, 42, 45?(sorry if it's too much)

Haha don't worry about it, I'm bored and need something to do :D

11. Which season had the best ending?

I love the ending of S2 with the Snow Ball!! It was nice to see the party and a few of the older kids just enjoying normal life to some degree (plus it was the first time I thought Jopper might be a possibility!!)

I also really love the end of S3 though, even if it makes me sob lol

12. Favourite quote?

I can't really think of any of the top of my head anamskdkmfnt but I think when Nancy and her mother are talking after she gets fired in S3 and Karen tells her that she's a fighter and always has been. Basically that whole discussion is AMAZING!!

16. Favourite deceased character?

Alexie!!! I loved him so much and he did not deserve that ending!! He was so happy at the fair 🥺

20. Favourite emotional moment?

How could I not say Robin's coming out scene?? To see lesbian representation done SO WELL in a show I love was just so validating and made me so happy!! I also love that Steve didn't make a big deal of it and just carried on teasing Robin as he always does. I really hope Robin will come out to some more people next season, especially Nance!!

23. Who has the best hairstyle throughout all the seasons?

Well I would say Nancy, but I really didn't like her hair in S3 😭

So instead I'm gonna say El!! I particularly love her hair in S2 and I was kinda upset when it all got cut off in S4.

26. Favourite icecream flavour?

Cookies and cream, although I also really like vanilla!!

29. Opinion on Jopper?

I LOVE THEM!!! I didn't ship it at first in S2 when I started to sense something was up but when we got to S3 and 4 I was shipping them so hard!!! And I freaked out when they actually finally kissed!!! They better get their date at Enzo's next season...

31. When was the first time you watched Stranger Things and how long have you been an fan?

I started watching it in early March. I had been to hospital the previous night and I was EXHAUSTED and my parents had watched it and my best friend likes it, so I decided to spend the day watching it. Obviously, I loved it haha!!

38. Top five favourite songs in the soundtrack?

Ohmigosh I love 80s music now haha thanks Stranger Things!! My favourites are probably (in no particular order):

1. Running Up That Hill

2. Every Breath You Take

3. Seperate Ways (Worlds Apart)

4. (I Just) Died In Your Arms Tonight (I did love this song before the show though)

5. California Dreaming

39. Opinion on Billy?

I think Billy's character is really interesting. I hated him at first but came to sympathise with him (although his trauma does not excuse his behaviour). I was quite upset when he died.

42. Opinion on the Wheeler family?

NANCY IS THE BEST AND I WANT HER TO BE MY GIRLFRIEND!!!

All that aside though, I find the dynamic between Karen and Ted really interesting and I also love how Nancy starts to be more open with Karen over time. Holly should be protected at all costs!! And I don't really like Mike, I find his character annoying, but I often like the Mike written in fanfic lol

45. Have you read any of the additional content?

I finished reading Rebel Robin the other day!! I loved it so much, I really saw myself and my journey with my sexuality represented in a way I hadn't seen before. I was laughing a lot cause (beside it being an entertaining book) I had experienced a lot of the same thoughts and confusion as Robin when trying to figure myself out. I'm now waiting to get Runaway Max from the library!!