#seven things au

[maximotts]

she hates her ⁘ w. maximoff x n. romanoff

brainrot is real and dangerous! This time it manifested in the idea of an enemies to lovers WandaNat AU in which sorority president Wanda and fraternity president Natasha simply can't stand one another, but Nat finds Wanda's weakness and exploits the fuck out of it. I'm planning to write more of them so I hope you all love these sillies in their enemies phase! P.S. if you know why I named this AU what I did, you're a real one 💖

Seven Things AU. masterlist :: Natasha lives to annoy Wanda so naturally, she plans the Spring Barbeque Night on the lawn of Wanda's sorority without asking and counts down the seconds until she comes down to complain

wc: 4k cw: 18+ only, minors DNI. warnings are clearly labeled, please don't add community filters. sorority!Wanda x fraternity!Natasha. smut. oral (n receiving). strap on sex (w receiving). cum strap. copious insults/hate sex. rough play/manhandling. overstimulation. degradation/humiliation. nat has a seriously filthy mouth and calls wanda lots of names. internal discussions of aftercare.

Wanda hated Natasha Romanoff.

She hated her messy red hair and the cocky way she walked around campus, how unshakably full of herself she always was, no matter how much of an asshole she was being any given moment. And she was constantly an ass, a chronic headache from the first day Wanda met her last year…

Currently Wanda hated Natasha’s heavy boots kicking her knees apart each time she moved them together even an inch.

“You want to get off on sucking my dick so bad, it’s pathetic.” Nat couldn’t stop her long groan and didn’t want to, grip tightening in Wanda’s loosely curled hair as she inched her strap further down the other girl’s throat.

If someone told her last month she’d have the most annoying girl she knew knelt in front of her like this, Natasha would’ve laughed them off; they could barely coexist in a room for more than a few minutes without one of them going off on the other.

They’d found a compromise in fucking each other speechless; mostly Wanda who, for all her holier-than-thou attitude towards the other woman, found herself repeatedly powerless for hidden quickies with Natasha.

Wanda could only claw at Natasha’s thighs, any possible harm dulled by the denim jeans Nat didn’t bother removing. She’d add how stupidly brutish Nat was to her ever-growing list of grievances if it didn’t turn her on so damn much.

The moment the fabric of her harness brushed Wanda’s cheek, they both shivered.

“I’m gonna assume no one’s managed to fuck this pretty mouth of yours this deep yet,” the redhead ground her hips against Wanda’s face slowly, letting her head roll back against the door, willfully ignorant to any discomfort the girl before her endured, “or maybe you’re too much of a bitch for anyone else to bother trying.”

Natasha let up and Wanda growled, disgusted gaze glaring daggers at her tormentor. “You don’t have anyone else to screw with, or have all the girls in town grown tired of your womanizer routine?”

“Fuck’s sake, shut up.” Shoving her forward was all too easy with Wanda caught off guard, burying her tip at the back of her throat so roughly Wanda gagged. Nat drove her hips back and forth at a brutal pace, laughing at the brunette’s sputtering, “That’s it, choke on my cock…”

The two were both too stubborn to break eye contact, Wanda’s wide green eyes watering with embarrassment and Natasha shamelessly getting off to her struggle.

She fucked her steadily, both hands now fisted in Wanda’s hair, the poor girl’s face growing pinker every second as she fought to hide just how much being used like this turned her on. It was no use, the sticky mess of the sorority president’s lip gloss and spit leaving kisses on her fraternity counterpart’s harness, sending Wanda into a dizzying frenzy of arousal that wrenched in the pit of her stomach- and lewdly dripped onto Natasha’s boot.

Oh how Natasha wished her phone wasn’t discarded on Wanda’s nightstand; she’d give anything to have photo evidence of their university’s golden student drooling on her strap and trying desperately to rub herself on her laces. “I bet if I shot a load down your throat you’d cum on the spot… wanna try?”

Nat finally let Wanda take a breath, yanking her away in favor of taking the thick toy in her hand, tapping the head onto the brunette’s already waiting tongue as she nodded desperately. She hadn’t bought this toy for anyone particular, never got much use out of it until she stumbled into Wanda’s secret a few weeks ago; now it was quickly becoming her favorite possession.

An accidentally perfect object to drive Wanda insane.

“Are you gonna let us keep our party on your lawn?”

The question snapped Wanda back to attention, suddenly aware of Natasha’s ulterior motives. There was a strange pang of hurt she felt, only for the briefest of seconds, to know what she was being used for, but it quickly morphed into keen anger. “Absolutely not! Go camp out with someone who actually likes you.”

“Stubborn bitch,” Nat muttered, knocking Wanda backwards. She was unsteady enough for her back to hit the floor with a painful thud, wincing as she met the hard wood of her bedroom. Admittedly, maybe that was a little too harsh, Natasha’s hand reaching out to inspect the girl before she caught herself, remembered who they were to one another, and her originally thoughtful touch became a slap for Wanda’s calf.

In an instant she was kneeling, dragging Wanda’s strawberry printed pajama shorts off to get a good look at her handiwork. They were still new to one another, having only really fallen into rage-fueled quickies, this was Natasha’s first time seeing the full effect she had on Wanda and damn if it wasn’t more intoxicating than all the beers she’d drunk tonight combined. “Pretty mouth and pussy, no wonder I’ve heard you’re good to fuck around with.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, doing her best to tamp down how hot she felt being openly inspected like this, ignoring the sparks she felt as Natasha’s hands parted and pawed at her bare thighs. “Don’t be gross, you pass yourself around more in one weekend than I’ve done my entire life.”

“So I know what I’m doing, Maximoff. Don’t forget I almost made you cum without a single touch just now.” If she cared enough Nat would’ve asked her how many people she actually had been with. Wanda had a reputation for being a tease of epic proportions, flirting cruelly with no intent of following through or, if you’re lucky, getting you off, but for as much gossip Nat heard, she couldn’t think of anyone who could say they’d slept with her.

In truth, the girl was picky, refusing to let anyone get farther than she thought she’d enjoy just as much as they did. Unfortunately Natasha not only met that standard, but rose far above it— the only reason she tolerated her insufferable nature each time they ended up like this. “But I didn’t finish, so get on with it. You’re already starting to bore me- ow!”

The last thing Wanda expected was a slap, stinging and wet, between her legs.

“Whenever you speak, you bore me, but I’m still here…” Her strap slid through the other girl’s cunt effortlessly, the weight of it offering the barest bit of much needed friction, but where Wanda raised her hips, Natasha held them down.

When the tip rested at Wanda’s waiting entrance, the shallowest of motions left her biting her lip to keep from begging. She couldn’t admit how badly she wanted this, how intensely she fought not to wrap her legs around Natasha and take the whole of her all by herself, to sate the persistent empty feeling she’d had since Nat pulled their hips together down on the lawn… “And you’re only here to get the answer you want so go ahead, try and convince me.”

Nat was too selfish to give Wanda time to adjust, pushing inside inch by inch while the girl below her gasped and balled her fists at her sides, too arrogant to grab onto Natasha’s stupid toned arms. But bottoming out felt like mutual heaven and as Wanda felt that cool, rough denim rub under her thighs, she gave in and let her legs clamp about her waist.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” Nat muttered, drawing out slowly just to surge forward, quickly setting a pace so brutal Wanda couldn’t hope to keep up. “Would’ve let you use your fingers before if I’d known…”

“N-No,” Wanda shook her head, eyes fluttering closed. She hated having to get this from someone she couldn’t stand, body betraying her in the presence of the person she wanted to be miles away from, but she forced her brain to submit along with the rest of her, taking her pleasure in a world where Natasha wasn’t a daily thorn in her side.

She needed to feel overwhelmed, overtaken, out of control— Natasha was the only person bold enough to give her what she was after. And she planned to use it to her full advantage. “No? Does perfect princess Wanda need to be fucked like a filthy slut?”

The woman was a mess of moans, doing her best to ignore Nat until calloused fingers gripped her jaw and yanked her back to reality. “Open your eyes, I want you to watch me fuck you dumb.”

When their eyes met again, Wanda’s pupils were blown wide, flushed cheeks pinched together under Nat’s grasp, “I asked you a question, answer me or I’ll leave you here and let everyone outside know you’re locked in your room with your fingers deep in your tight cunt, dreaming of my dick.”

Natasha really wished Wanda wasn’t so fucking pretty with her breathy pants and tousled hair framing her face like a halo; it made sex so much harder not giving the girl exactly what she wanted. “Just fuck me, Romanoff. You have a party to get back to.”

“I do? So you’ll let us stay?” Wanda nearly threw a fit when Natasha stopped again, the thought of being denied twice in one night enough to leave her whining. She was someone people rarely said no to, things simply fell into place for her as she wished, but challenging, thick-headed Natasha… dealing with her was akin to rolling a boulder single-handed.

“Yes, yes fine! Keep your crappy party! Let me cum and you can stay the night for all I care-“ Her eyes were wide open now, focused enough to take in Natasha’s shit-eating grin before she pounded into her once more, faster and more determined now that she’d won.

The redhead never had trouble in bed, satisfying whoever she fell into bed with effortlessly; she was reluctant to admit it’d grown repetitive. So when she ran into a drunk and mopey Wanda stumbling down the hall of her fraternity a few weeks back and cornered her with intention to mock her nighttime walk of shame, Natasha was morbidly curious to hear her confess how sexually unsatisfied she was with such plain honesty.

She couldn’t have predicted Wanda ever being in her room, much less sprawling on her bed like she belonged there and bemoaning her plight. “Is it so hard to just cum on my face? You’d think they’d be excited, but nooo all I get is ‘are you sure that’s what you want?’ Of course I’m sure!”

Natasha was so rarely speechless, but of all possible statements, she’d never expected that one.

Maybe they wouldn’t have happened if Wanda’s guard wasn’t lowered by alcohol. If Natasha hadn’t been standing at the foot of the bed in gray sweatpants that so poorly hid the strap she’d been packing, matching sports bra showing off her toned stomach while she proudly proclaimed she’d have no issue granting Wanda what she was after. If Wanda hadn’t crawled across the mattress to Nat and kissed the taut skin right below her navel before taking those cotton pants between her teeth and pulling, staring Natasha down with a ferocity she never imagined would make her feel anything but a primal rage-

But that night played out as it did and now they were here, another evening spent indulging each other in acts they couldn’t ask of anyone else.

Wanda didn’t announce how close she was, didn’t give Natasha the satisfaction of knowing just how good of an orgasm she’d given her— the woman above her still knew. She’d heard Wanda cry out for her before and she’d already come this far: Natasha wouldn’t stop until she had Wanda begging. “You’re supposed to say thank you when I’m nice to you.”

“In your dreams, playboy.”

Fighting words were routine, but the glob of spit landing on Natasha’s cheek colored her vision red. For a moment, the tension in the air felt too thick, bedroom eerily quiet as Nat’s grip flexed into the plush thighs spread before her, clenched jaw only accentuating her dangerous glare. Maybe Wanda would be afraid if she hadn’t hit the exact nerve she’d aimed for.

“Brats like you never behave for long, huh?” Dragging Wanda across the floor, Natasha rammed into still recovering sex, cupping the back of her knee and forcing her leg into her chest while the other stayed trapped against the wood. The new angle was deeper than Wanda had ever been treated to and her choked sob alone almost made up for Natasha being spit on.

Almost.

“Always such an insufferable… ungrateful…” She grumbled, losing her train of thought as her focus dropped down, suddenly fixated on the now drenched toy at her hips stretched around Wanda’s tight hole, ever growing mess close to dripping onto her ass.

Wanda wasn’t new to people staring at her, most days it boosted her already impressive confidence levels, but the way Natasha watched, always sizing her up like prey to be hunted and devoured, that was different. When she wasn’t looking at her with apathy it was contempt, anything to remind Wanda she wasn’t infallible as she thought she was, but this —Natasha so obviously getting off to her, so desperately rocking her pelvis against Wanda’s whenever she bottomed out in search of friction— made the brunette feel craved.

“What’s the matter, run out of insults?” Nat hadn’t noticed her mouth hanging open until it felt dry, snapping out of her lustrous thoughts to lick her full lips. Seconds from verbal retort, she decided on a better course, one equally as selfish as Wanda’s earlier orgasm: she could very easily knock the girl down some much needed pegs while making it worth her time.

“Just wondering how a spoiled little cumslut like you thinks it’s in your best interest to mouth off.” Wanda didn’t have time to be taken aback, Natasha’s sudden change of angle driving her round tip into that elusive spot deep inside over and over; she cursed her drunken self babbling to her rival that she was the only person, including herself, to find it.

“Shit, Romanoff, slow down-!” She thought for sure Natasha wouldn’t remember, had her pegged as the type of lover who had to learn everything over each time, but no, Nat was the opposite and now she knew too much.

“Shut your mouth and play with your tits.” The command was blunt, powerful enough in its delivery that Wanda didn’t question, shaky hands sliding under her shirt while she struggled not to finish her second time unexpectedly early.

She was slow in her touches, too slow for Natasha’s energetic pace, and the loose cotton fabric hid the view; two things Nat instantly got tired of. “Get your damn shirt out of the way, and I don’t want any of your silly shy shit- I told you to play with them.”

Wanda would kill Nat if she ever told a soul she whimpered, would deny having clenched around Nat in response to her exerting control… still she wrenched her shirt over her head as quick as she could and her hands flew back to her chest. She forced her eyes to stay open, smugly committing the sight of Natasha panting in time with her thrusts, light green eyes glued to Wanda’s fingers teasing her dusty pink nipples into hardness.

“You’re such a creep, I bet you’ll be jerking off to this for weeks,” she mumbled, pinching the sensitive peaks between her thumb and forefinger, moaning louder than intended as she matched Natasha’s motions.

Nat huffed, couldn’t bother denying that yes, she would definitely be thinking about Wanda spread wide open and touching herself for a long time. Her partner would to, though, mind wandering to Natasha ordering her around next time she found herself alone and needy.

Wanda made the mistake of watching Nat’s tongue swipe over her lips, traitorous brain wondering what the smooth muscle would feel like instead of her chilly fingertips, how warm and wet her mouth would be if she ever dared to suck—

This time when the dam broke, she was too distracted to censor herself, back arching and body trembling uncontrollably. If Nat’s focus had lapsed for just two seconds she would’ve missed Wanda utter her name, soft and breathy, syllables stuttered as if she pronounced it for the first time. “Aww poor princess, was that too much for you?”

“Go fuck yourself…” The words were weak, embarrassingly so, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to laugh at her attempt.

“Already working on it, smartass,” Nat didn’t falter for a second through Wanda’s second high, meeting wave after wave as the girl finally stopped pretending she didn’t want this just as much and raised her hips with each thrust.

The redhead had long since made a mess of her own underwear, sticky wetness coating the base of her strap to aid her now desperate grinding into Wanda, rubbing her neglected sex against the textured silicone. She wouldn’t last much longer, not when Wanda insisted on mewling so maddeningly, freshly manicured nails digging into Natasha’s sides as she fought overstimulation.

“You’re being too rough-!” Wanda couldn’t stand the sound of her own voice knowing once again it was Natasha who’d rendered her so vulnerable, but this was always her favorite part, being used and treated so carelessly; the thing she and Nat never properly talked about, but knew she needed.

“But I’m so close, don’t you want me to stuff your pretty little cunt?” Nat taunted, bending over so she could kiss Wanda’s temple. “I think you’ve almost been a nice enough fuck tonight to earn it.”

“God, just do it!” Nat was humping against her so hard it hurt, but then the dull sting ebbed in place of a new sensation -two deft fingers rolling over her swollen clit- and Wanda could only briefly process she was well and truly done for before her mind melted away.

“So demanding for someone so needy… try asking nicely.” Fortunately for Natasha’s rapidly approaching orgasm, Wanda didn’t have it in her to fight anymore, submitting with a barely audible please. “Please what, you know what I wanna hear.”

Wanda could slap herself for being so weak later, maybe when she took a shower and realized how she actually loved being made to beg so helplessly. “Please Natasha, please please, I want you to cum in me!”

“Good girl, there’s those perfect manners,” Nat came with a series of grunts, jerkily rutting while she filled Wanda like she’d been thinking of doing since she stomped out of her house and tried to break up their party.

She’d been so angry, shouting and pointing her finger in everyone’s faces, treating her and her friends like they were rowdy kids. The others mumbled apologies, deferring to Wanda like the figurehead she decided she was, but Natasha loved a challenge, especially one she’d planned on having after purposefully planting themselves on the sorority lawn. Nat wasn’t scared of Wanda, not before this arrangement and certainly not after; now she knew exactly how to fix any argument that popped up.

When Natasha finally pulled out, there was a dampness to the front of her shirt and jeans and again, she wanted to reach over for her camera. Instead she settled for sliding her hands to where Wanda was red and oh so wet, abused hole fluttering as their combined arousal leaked out. It seemed a shame to let it go to waste on the floor, two fingers collecting what’d escaped and, much to Wanda’s exhausted surprise, pushing it back in.

“I’m too sensitive for that…” Twisting away was futile, Natasha still firmly planted between her thighs. She had half a mind to kick her until she saw Nat’s free hand angling her cock down, painting Wanda’s lower half with thick ropes of cum while her thumb nudged her hardened bud, and dull throbs of new arousal twisted her stomach into cramps. “Stop-!”

The pleasure in it was fleeting, the pain of exhaustion winning out, but it wasn’t until she sobbed pitifully that Natasha finally glanced up at Wanda’s anguished face and backed off. “Shit, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine…” Wanda refused to entertain the idea that any bit of Nat’s concern was real; if she dwelled long enough, she’d ruin her afterglow with too many conflicting thoughts. It didn’t matter if the redhead actually cared anyways, her touch, now slowly smoothing over Wanda’s sore hips, started to burn as Wanda came back to her senses. “Just get your hands off me, idiot.”

Natasha could’ve pushed and maybe if it was someone she was supposed to care about she would’ve, but her worry swerved towards brushing off Wanda’s rejection, defaulting back to what they did best: hate each other. “A greedy whore and a squirter, probably a crier too if I bed you on the right day… better hope your secrets are safe with me, princess.”

Her heart dropped thinking about her sex life becoming the latest gossip, but she could only feebly push her away, head twisting to the side just so she could look anywhere but Natasha and her insolent self. “Well you’ve got to have some kind of funny story to tell everyone when you go back the party. I know you’re always low on those.”

Eventually she managed sitting up, stretching out her back and arms, inadvertently giving Natasha one last unobstructed view of her before retrieving her discarded t-shirt and putting it back in place. “Or you could crack open another beer and share how you drool like a baby every time you see my tits, that’s a conversation starter for sure.”

Needing a soft surface for her now aching body, Wanda clumsily climbed into bed, unceremoniously using Nat’s shoulder to lean on as she maneuvered. True, Natasha tended to kiss and tell, but something about doing the same to Wanda felt wrong, at least to be as detailed as she typically was. Maybe it was just the pride she got from being the only person Wanda’s actually fucking; she wanted to keep that for herself.

“Could always come back downstairs with me and we’ll tell them together.” Natasha didn’t need much clean up, zipping her jeans back and standing awkwardly next to Wanda’s now prone form. Neither of them knew how to handle the ‘after’ yet, Nat’s tendency to check in on even her most casual of partners always ignored by Wanda who knew she’d undoubtedly needed that care but couldn’t stomach the possibility of being one in a string of partners.

So they avoided it as much as possible. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d ever be seen anywhere with you, playboy.”

Wanda felt a different kind of yearning just then, one that dared her to give Nat the option to stay and her cheeks flushed all over again. Her solution was rolling over until her back was to Natasha, steeled herself to stay that way until she was left alone.

Nat sighed, long and audibly irritated, pondering the pros and cons of offering to do something together up here, a calm, private thing where she could sate that instinct to watch over Wanda without explicitly doing just that… but it’d require admitting she wouldn’t mind hanging out with Wanda and she did not want that.

“Sorry, I should’ve said if you wanted to take a night off of being an impossible bitch, you can actually try to enjoy yourself.”

The door closed behind her and Wanda could breathe again, flopping onto her back and staring at the ceiling. She felt empty and not only between her legs; unfortunately for Wanda, Natasha was no longer around to take her frustrations out on. “Stupid asshole..”

Eventually her night ended dangerously close to feigning some illness to lure Natasha’s attention back when she fell asleep and Nat’s, uncharacteristically leaving her party alone with the excuse of having forgotten her phone on the Wanda’s nightstand. She certainly didn’t use the opportunity to see Wanda again, surveying her sleep before pulling a blanket over the brunette’s shivering form.

[demaparbat-hp]

Almost

[toxictoxicities]

Somethin for a silly lil thing I saw on Twitter

[nart-is-a-monster]

Have this little thingy of juice box varian before I go to work fhheyhrttyrurhg

[pan-perkozeq]

[ The Goobers ]

Just saw a trending meme template ksnfj

[glitter-alienz]

TMNTOV design for Vrax Belebome! Wait… I’m not supposed to tell you her real name 🤦🏾‍♂️

Finally decided on a design for OV bellybomb back in July, because I’ve been having brainrot for 2012’s “journey to the center of Mikey’s mind” episode for so long and I wanted to include it to the OV lore :)

+ her ref sheet plus a little info-dump ^^ mainly for myself because I forget these kinds of things

[emistations]

Happy Family!

Bonus fankid ref:

She inherited sonic's speed & she's super clumsy w/ it

[ressioo]

Random doodle sharing time yet again. Pebbles such a creature

I should draw sunstone again, i reckon. Been a while

[eggsistential-breakdown]

just hanging out and watching the sky

click for higher quality and closeups under the cut

[lyss-butterscotch]

Assorted sunstone doodles + prompts from a convo with res 👍

This was supposed to have other doodles but fack it make it sunstone centered might aswell

[maximotts]

hi so sorority wanda and frat nat fucking in random bathrooms on campus ty

Okay okay so I don’t wanna spoil any particular background lore I’ve got cooking for them specifically, but basically Natasha loves to ditch classes with no consequences but Wanda goes to class religiously; if she misses class ever she’s like… super sick and is immediately sending an apology email to her professors!

All that to say: Natasha got her hands somehow she’s buds with Pietro on Wanda’s class schedule and loves to just.. stroll into her lectures and bother tf out of Wanda. If she’s lucky, Wanda’s not sitting next to anyone and she can plop down right next to her for a whole two hours of tormenting.

And of course it’s just so she can lean over and whisper to Wanda, even put her hands on her depending on how big the lecture hall is/where they’re sitting and Wanda is so annoyed, but she can’t make a big scene in the middle of class! The most she could get away with is slapping Nat’s hands away or bargaining with her to keep off and wait. Which is exactly how Natasha comes up with “meet me in the bathroom down the hall or I’ll come back here and make you scream right over the professor” and Wanda doesn’t know if Natasha’s serious or not, but she’s a little terrified Nat’s stupid enough to actually try something like that.

So yes, she meets her in the bathroom and sends an email to her professor that afternoon explaining that Natasha had to come back for her stuff because started feeling nauseous Wanda was still fucked out in the bathroom stall when Nat came back for her and had to go home to Nat’s room and lay down be bent over her mattress and fucked until she’s screaming all over again…

[rantceratops]

But what if your soon to be Moonshadow girlfriend turned into a werewolf on the full moon? What then?

(Basically a second attempt at this old thing.)

[hezuart]

Little Nightmares: Channel Change page 7/finale

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [final here]

~~~

With that, the bootstrap paradox was broken.

And Mono was free. 

~

End...? ( two mini sequel comic planned to be made in the future)

Hope you enjoyed!  

[pan-perkozeq]

Question: You wouldn't happen to have a reference sheet for Pebbles would you?

[ Well I have it now XD ]

Actually making all of them because I need it myself jsksndn

Actually it's surprising for me they all have such wide color palettes...

Putting a link in my pinned post so you won't lose it. Also sorry you had to wait THIS LONG I'm swarmed with those asks kdnemfm

[withacapitalp]

Pre season two AU where El didn’t disappear at the end of season one. Everyone knows she’s staying with Hopper except the government because stick it to the man

Steve has been acting off for a few weeks and finally admits to Nancy that he hasn’t heard from either of his parents in a really long time. They are gone a lot, but they haven’t even answered his calls, and that’s unusual.

Finally she convinces him to ask El for help. She found Will in another dimension, surely she can let him know that they’re okay at the very least so Steve agrees. He brings one of his old photos, searching for one that has both his mom and dad. He cant seem to find any, and he can’t ever remember really taking one together.

They get to the cabin and everyone is there. All the kids want to see El use her powers again, and Hopper and Joyce are concerned about the strain it puts on her. They all watch as Steve hands the photo over with slight nerves. El looks down at it and stops short, staring silently down at it as her entire body starts to shake.

“This is your Papa?” She asks teeming with rage, and Steve furrows his brow. He goes to open his mouth, but suddenly he is no longer in control of his body. El has her arm stretched out, and she’s dragging Steve over to her. She holds him in an iron grip, ignoring everyone’s shouting as she grabs the left sleeve of his sweater and yanks it up. There’s an ugly scar on his wrist, but not what she’s looking for.

El demands to know what it is. How did he get this mark. Steve stammers some story out about burning himself on the stove when he was Seven, clearly completely freaked out. He manages to pull himself out of her hold and bolts without another word, leaving the door open in his haste to get away. Hopper is the first to ask what the hell is going on, and El simply hands him the picture in response, going into her room and shutting the door.

Hopper looks down and drops the picture like it’s on fire. They all stare at the Polaroid with horror in their eyes as it slowly floats down to the floor.

Because there, standing on either side of a much younger Steve with a nearly buzzed head, is Connie Frazier and Martin Brenner

[findafight]

Not me writing a prologue for a fic I'll maybe never write about Steve being on the Dream Team lmao. I saw a pro basketball player Steve post a while ago and couldn't stop thinking about it. Anyways-

At the end of March Madness in 1989, the scout for the Pacers has lunch with the head coach of a community college basketball team that somehow made it to the first round before being pulverized. They sit across from each other, the coach seemingly a bit overwhelmed but not outright surprised. That's good, it means Jerry, the scout, doesn't have to worry about him freaking out or babbling too much.

The team captain had caught his, and possibly others', eye. Good layups, a few three pointers, solid defence, and a helluva lot of potential add up to someone to keep an eye on, except they can't because the guy plays for a rinky-dink community college and only had one televised game. The only reason Jerry saw the kid is because the Roane County Community College Ospreys had put in a hell of a fight the past three seasons. Jerry wonders why the hell the kid hadn't been offered a scholarship somewhere...not Roane County. Doesn't matter though, because they're here now.

"so. You wanted to talk about Steve?" Says the coach, August Nearaly, a bit weary.

Jerry nods, sipping his coffee. "Yeah. Wanted to get a sense of him before I actually talked to him."

August sighs. "As a player or as a person?"

Raising his eyebrows. "Is he that different off the court?"

"no! No, not like how you probably think. Harrington's a sweet kid, but also incredibly...well, not weird, but. Peculiar? He's got quirks. Bit paranoid, but not in a conspiracy way. In a 'no one should walk home alone in the dark' or 'hey, where'd John go? He was right here and then I did a headcount and he's not?' kinda way. Y'know? Like, they're all adults, but he does headcounts and worries anyways."

"huh. Oookay?"

"it-- I'm not saying this to rag on him, to be clear. It just too a while to get used to. Honestly, it's been good for team building. Makes them think of each other not as individuals, but part of a unit that needs everyone healthy and whole to work."

"that's good. He's a team player."

"oh yeah. It's not surprising, really. He's from Hawkins." August says the name like Jerry should know what that means. It's a town, sure, but other than that... Jerry's at a loss. Maybe something a few years ago about a fire? "He has most assists in Osprey history. Some of the guys joke that he's allergic to the ball."

"He's good on the court?"

"Jerry. I know you're here because you saw the March Madness game. You know he's good. He'd be even better if he could afford those fancy prescription goggles Horace Grant wears."

"seriously? Why not contacts?"

"don't make them for his prescription. You didn't see his interview? Kid's got thick horn rimmed glasses. Too many concussions apparently. God knows how he tells players apart when the jersey colours are similar."

"shit. That's why he was squinting the whole time? I thought he was just stressed."

He shrugged. "eh. Probably a bit of both. He takes it seriously, but not too seriously. Y'know? Half the guys were shitting themselves from nerves and Harrington stands up in the locker room, hands on his hips, and gives a speech worthy of the most melodramatic underdog sports movie."

Jerry laughs. "No shit."

Waving his hands, August nods. "no shit! He says all this stuff like 'we worked hard...we deserve this...we may not win but let's do our damn best. The worst that could happen is we lose, and that isn't the end of the world. So let's go out there and play some basketball!' or something, his was better, and the boys cheer. Then they put in fifty points to one-thirty."

Jerry winces. "Must have hurt, huh?"

August grins. "No way. One of the best games they ever played. You saw it. You wouldn't be here if you hadn't. They played their goddamn hearts out." He leans forward. "My boys don't have the same facilities as the big universities, or the funding to offer scholarships. They're at Roane Community because they want a degree or certificate but have other responsibilities. Parents or siblings to stay close to, jobs to work, people to take care of. They joined my team because they like playing basketball, loved the game and wanted to spend some of their precious time playing it. They put the work in on the court and off it. And we made it to the NCAA tournament because of it. We put in fifty points against the goddamn Michigan Wolverines! The champs! And they knew that. I've never heard of a locker room after an 80 point defeat so happy."

"seriously?"

It's all pride when Coach Nearaly says "yep. They may not be the best basketball players in college, but my god, they're probably the best team."

"because of Harrington?"

"partly. They all contribute, make sure they do things right. It's not a one man show, that's the point. They rally around him, but they all are part of the team, and know it. That's what Steve makes sure. Why I made him captain."

"So, you think he'd be a good pick for the Pacers?" This is, after all, a business meeting.

August nods, picks at his pancakes. "I'll be honest with you Jerry. You're not the first scout to talk to me about Steve."

"really? Who?"

"you know I won't say. But, between me and you, Steve's Indiana born and bred. His wife's planning on getting some lib Arts degree in Chicago or Indy, and your offer might be the deciding factor for them."

Jerry blinks. "He's married? At, what? Twenty-one?"

August nods. "Just turned twenty-two. High school sweethearts or something. Obsessed with each other." He chuckled, a bit ruefully. "I'm a bit jaded but damn. You mention her name? He lights up like the fuckin Fourth of July."

Jerry whistles. "Honeymoon phase gets us all."

"for almost two years? Nah. It's just love." It sounds a little wistful, coming from August. "Anyways. I dunno if the other team is serious about him, and if they are, they'll probably be disappointed. Kid isn't moving out of the Midwest. He's got family here, and is getting a goddamn elementary education degree. He won't uproot his life for a chance at the NBA. But, if you offer. Well. He'd at least seriously consider it."

Humming, Jerry chews his eggs as he thinks. "You think he'd be up for the lifestyle? The road games out numbering home ones?"

There's an air of seriousness when August levels Jerry with a look. "If he doesn't want to, he'll tell you. You gotta give him time to talk to his family though. This offer? It'll come out of left field for him, even if I give him a heads up. You get that, yeah? You want to recruit a kindergarten teacher to the NBA without any build up. He needs time to process that and then see where the people in his life are at with it."

"I guess it is unusual."

"try being the community college basketball coach getting two goddamn calls from NBA scouts. Thought I was hallucinating."

Jerry laughs, counts some bills for the tip. "Thank you. For your time and insights. Let Steve know I'll call tomorrow?"

"will do. He'll still probably drob the phone on you, though."

"as long as he doesn't hang up!"