#she thought she was on her way to Indiana but it turns out she was on her way to the afterlife

[cursed-clock-shop]

The best thing about Failure is all the silly little implied facts, like Jenny June dying from being too eepy

[little-annie]

Bet you didn't know how Eddie found out Steve was Bi.

It was at a club in Indianapolis of all places. He and Steve, along with Robin and Vicki, had made their way to the city for a weekend of fun.

And some recognizance apparently.

Steve was convinced Vicki was into boobies, and at some point had made it his mission to prove such information to Robin. His location of choice? One of the biggest gay clubs in Indiana.

How Steve knew of the place made no sense to Eddie. Well at least not right away. Now though, now he knew Steve was…

Steve was:

A little fruity.

A friend of Dorothy.

A real cocksucker.

Steve Harrington was all of the above apparently.

To Eddie's utter bafflement.

And outstanding joy.

But sitting at the bar with the man in question by his side, Eddie hadn't known that yet. He was helplessly pining over a friend he thought he'd never have the faintest of a chance with. Watching from the side lines, imagining himself as the hot brunette in Steve's strong arms when the man would occasionally make his way to the dance floor.

They were having a good time. They were drinking, the girls were dancing like a couple of dorks out beneath the shining lights. Everything was going great.

But Eddie could still see from even across the dance floor the longing look in Robin's eyes as she watched Vicki do the sprinkler of all dance moves.

They really were perfect for each other.

“How's mission besties to boobies going? You think you'll have Robbie sucking on a tit by the end of the night?”

Sitting on the bar stool next to him, Steve snorts into his drink, choking on a laugh as he turns to admonish Eddie, “Jesus man.” He coughs around the fruity drink clogging his throat. “Robin would punch you in the jugular if she heard you say that.”

Eddie smiles to himself, just happy that he made Steve laugh. “Well good thing she's out there with Vicki then. Really though, any closer to helping them figure their shit out?”

Just as Steve's about to answer, both of their eyes watching the girls, they watch as some tall blonde jock approaches Vicki.

In the same instant they catch Robin's expression crumble.

“Mother fucker.” Steve huffs before he turns back to the bar and orders Robin's favourite drink. A Blue Hawaiin topped with more fruit than Eddie's eaten in the last year. Bright and flashy, decorated with a tiny purple umbrella.

Robin joins them not a minute later, sweat damp hair sticking to her forehead as she sighs sadly and falls face first with a groan into Steve's chest.

Eddie would be jealous if he didn't feel so bad for Robin.

The poor girl is nearly at her wits end.

For months her and Vicki have been going through a will they won't they type of thing.

Christ, they even kissed at one of Steve's little parties. Under the guise of spin the bottle, but it still happened and lasted way too long for Vicki to not have enjoyed it.

But then the next day, Eddie remembers Vicki talking about Dan. Her on - off boyfriend who apparently, judging by Steve's seething and Robin's near blubbering is the guy with his arms around a very annoyed looking Vicki's shoulders.

Robin's pulled herself from between Steve's beautiful beasts and is now leaning against the man, standing between his legs as he hugs her and she solemnly nibbles at her skewered fruit with her chin hooked over Steve's shoulder.

He's saying something to her that Eddie doesn't catch, but he notices how it makes Robin smile.

Albeit a little sadly.

Turning his attention away, Eddie takes a sip of his drink, stares daggers into Dan's soul on Robin's behalf and lets the Wonder Twins have their moment.

Amidst wishing Dan to drop dead, through the blaring music Eddie eventually hears Steve's determined tone.

“I'll do it, Rob.”

Curious, Eddie tunes in.

“You're not doing anything.”

“Mmmmh nope. I'm gonna do it.” Eddie nearly hears Steve's nod of resolution as he keeps his eyes on the gyrating crowd before them. He sounds determined. Surly staring his own form of ill will into Dan's soul, Steve continues, “He keeps dragging her on, which means she's dragging you on. And I can't let that happen.”

Robin sighs, “Steve.”

“Robin.”

Eddie can damn well hear them staring one another down.

It's rather loud.

As is the blatant telepathic convention they're having now.

After a moment of lord only knows what they've communicated to each other through a series of complicated facial expressions, Robin sighs again, apparently having accepted defeat, “You're a bitch.”

“You love me.”

“I hope you get Crabs.”

Eddie snorts to himself as he finally turns to take in the two next to him. Robin's now occupying Steve's previous bar stool and Mr. Great Tits and Tight Levi's himself is standing with the bitchiest expression known to man, staring Robin down, who sips her drink and appears unfazed.

And then Steve smirks.

“I literally watched you shave your chin hair with the razor I use on my balls. If I get Crabs you're coming down with me.”

Robin hardly looks bothered as she bites a hunk of pineapple from her skewer, seeming in a much better mood than when she'd arrived.

“You whore. Course you shave your balls.” She mumbles around the fruit in her mouth.

“Not everyone likes to have a jungle bush, Robin.”

Their continued nattering is lost to Eddie as he remains hung up on the idea of Steve's balls. Are they clean shaved, trimmed, artfully maintained?

He's pathetic. Eddie's well aware. Daydreaming of Steve's Adonis like body isn't new in the slightest.

He apparently wonders for so long that when he tunes back to reality, Steve and his decidedly trimmed balls are gone.

He looks to Robin who downing the remainder of her drink.

She shrugs, as if that explains anything.

Then he sees Steve at the other end of the bar talking to Vicki's maybe boyfriend.

It looks heated.

God, is Steve going to fight this guy? Fuck. Eddie's scrappy but he's never had a great track record with Jocks and he knows Steve and all of his monster fighting abilities means nothing when it comes to fighting people. He remembers the guy getting his ass handed to him by Byers. And Hargrove. Like he gets Billy, the guy was fucking insane. But Johnathan? Steve doesn't stand a chance against this guy. He's got at least twenty pounds on Steve.

Steve's going to get his ass kicked and Eddie's not going to be any help. Sure he'll try, throw a punch, maybe play dirty and move his rings over to his other hand so it hurts more, but otherwise he's got nothing.

All bark, no bite.

Fuck, what if the guy has friends here?

Eddie looks back to Robin who's now leaning back against the bar, watching as Vicki dances in the distance, giggling to herself as she waves at Robin then proceeds to do that shopping cart.

The sweet, ginger haired little dork.

Again, their perfect for each other.

“Steve's not really going to fight that guy is he?”

Robin snorts.

“Yeah, with his dick maybe.”

What?

“What?”

Robin waves him off with a limp wrist and plunks her empty glass onto the bar top behind her with a dull thud.

And then she's off.

Leaving Eddie with that tidbit of information.

She was joking, right? Right?

She had to be joking.

“Robin?!”

His voice is either lost to the music or she's ignoring him.

Probably the latter.

By the time Eddie turns his attention back to the end of the bar, he catches Steve giving Dan a playful tug to the belt loops and an expression Eddie can only describe as a smoulder.

Then Steve's pulling this guy by the hand to the men's bathroom.

What the fuck did he miss?

Jesus H Christ.

—

Twenty minutes and one tequila shot later, Eddie watches as Dan goes scurrying by from the bathroom to the exit, still tucking his fucking polo into his pants.

Lucky bastard.

A moment later, Steve returns.

Hair messy, pupils blown, shirt untucked and …

No.

It's that?

There's a small dot of milky white on Steve's chin.

Fucking hell.

Steve plops down in his chair, steals Eddie's beer and downs the remaining half, finishing it with a content sigh.

For the longest time Eddie's speechless.

Staring at Steve and the fucking splatter of come left on his chin.

What the actual fuck?

“What?”

Steve must've noticed.

Christ and it's not like Eddie can let the guy go walking around with that.

“You've got, uh, something on your chin…”

And like he knew it was there, knew exactly where it was, Steve wipes the evidence of his earlier rendezvous away.

Eddie can't help but continue to stare.

And like an idiot he decides to open his mouth. “Did you just…?”

And like it's nothing, Steve answers.

“Suck off Vicki's ex then threaten him with bodily harm if he ever bothers her or Robin again? Yeah. And?”

And?

And?!

Since when did Steve suck dick?!

Eddie's careening towards a level two gay fucking melt down when Steve decides to continue, sounding every bit offended and confused. “Is that gonna be a problem?”

“No!” Eddie answers immediately, hands up in defence. Steve's expression softens just a touch. “No. No, fuck, Steve. No, not at all. It's just-” well he didn't know and he and Steve are good enough friends Eddie figured something that important to Steve's person, he'd know. “I just didn't know.”

Steve's nose scrunches in that cute way that always makes Eddie feel like dropping dead, and then almost sounding like he's surprised, Steve laughs, “You- hah- Eddie! You didn't know!?”

“No!”

“No wonder,” Steve more so says to himself before ordering both him and Eddie another drink.

He doesn't continue until he's had a sip of whatever fruity monstrosity he's drinking now. “I've been flirting with you for months, Ed.”

“Yeah well I thought you were straight.” Eddie grumbles, feeling like a fucking idiot. Had Steve really been flirting with him? Had all of the lingering touches and seemingly longing stares all been intentional.

Jesus. Fucking. Fuck.

Steve had asked him if he wanted to fool around a couple weeks ago and Eddie thought he was joking.

Shit.

“What?” Steve says, halfass sounding offended, “Like it would have made a difference. Dude you've made it obvious you're not interested.”

“I- what?”

Steve shrugs, “Yeah. No hard feelings man. I get it. I'm not your type.”

“Not- not my type!? Steve! My beautiful beautiful boy, I am so interested. I'm painfully interested. I'm so interested I jack off to the idea every night, interested.”

He's just going to ignore the fact he said that aloud.

It's worth it for the blush that rises to Steve's cheeks anyways. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“So you wanna?”

“Absolutely annihilate each other in the men's bathroom?” Eddie asks confidently, truly hyping himself up so he doesn't freak out, downing his drink and standing to offer Steve his hand, “ Yes please.”

But not taking his hand and running to the bathroom to hopefully suck each other off, Steve stays sitting, staring at Eddie's offered hand. And just when Eddie starts to think he's fucked this all up before it's even started, Steve stutters his response

“ I- well- I was thinking more like a- a movie and milkshakes, or something?”

Oh.

Oh this isn't just sex to Steve.

Thank God.

Eddie wasn't entirely sure how his heart would have handled the alternative.

Did Steve Harrington just ask him on a date?

“Yeah.” Eddie answers, a little breathless, a little bashful.

“We can do your thing to if this is just-”

“No. No, Steve. It's really not. I feel like a fucking schoolgirl, man. All giddy and shit. I just never thought-”

“You're kinda hard not to want Eddie.” Steve interrupts him.

And isn't that a fucking line.

Maybe…

“Both?” Eddie asks, only for Steve to raise a brow

“What about both?”

“Oh!” Steve shouts, catching the attention of a few people, one of which being Robin who was wandering hand in hand with Vicki to the bar, “Yeah. Fuck yeah.” He downs his drink just as Eddie had and finally takes Eddie's offered hand.

On their near sprint to the men's bathroom, Eddie's sure, through the buzz of his own brain and the blare of music he hears Robin's raspy voice shout, “Enjoy my besties bald balls, Munson!”

---

Give my tittle ideas babes. I wanna post this insanity on Ao3.

[lovebugism]

rockstar!eddie x shy!reader , christmas party shenanigans, shes so sweet she made cookies & sweets for everyone but she wasn’t asked to , run ins w celebs 🤭

hope u like it angel!! — a rockstar flirts with eddie munson’s girl minutes before corroded coffin plays a show (shy!reader, established relationship, fluff, 1.4k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Corroded Coffin’s got their own green room — backstage at one of the biggest music festivals of the year. There’s a team of people dressed in black waiting at their beck and call. Eddie’s pretty sure KISS is in the suite down the hall. As a boy from Middle of Nowhere, Indiana, he doesn’t feel very deserving of any of it.

He feels like he’s dreaming, really. The only thing keeping him from pinching himself is Dustin and Lucas’ roughhousing and Steve’s stupid belly laugh. Having all his childhood friends here is strangely humbling.

Eddie lazes on an expensive leather chair, totally unsure of what to do with himself when he’s not holding you. He’s trying to get comfortable in the foreign leather drab that stylists put him in when the door yawns open. It swings with such ferocity that the metal knob slams against the opposite wall with a low thud. It isn’t any surprise that the culprit is Robin Buckley.

She storms in first, followed more quietly by you some seconds later.

“Woah, woah, woah— what happened?” Eddie wonders aloud, already on edge with anxiety. Robin swooping in like a dark grey storm cloud doesn’t make it any better.

You shrug with a tin of Christmas cookies in your hand. Some are already missing because you wanted to pass them out to the workers. “It’s not like I don’t have enough to go around,” you’d said with a shy chuckle, nodding to the table lined with homemade pastries. You always bake when you’re nervous.

“We bumped into someone on the way back,” you explain in a gentle murmur, mindful of the emotional girl across the room. “I think she might’ve known him…”

“You didn’t recognize him?” Robin blurts from where she’s flopped on the leather couch. Her eyes go wide, the edges of them smudged with brown eyeliner. The look she gives you makes you cower.

“…No?”

“That was Roger Taylor,” she tells you. And then, when it still doesn’t hit you— “From Queen.”

Your doe eyes flood with a similar, more innocent look of shock. “That’s who that was?”

Robin groans and shoves her face into the fluffy throw pillow beneath her. She decides to talk to the only person in the room who could understand her and her wild emotions. Steve, sitting next to her with cookie crumbs all over his mouth, somehow manages to cipher her mumbled, emotional slurs.

“You don’t get it— it was like seeing an angel, Steve. He was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen— and I don’t even like men!”

“Yeah, so that’s definitely saying something,” the boy mumbles through a mouthful of pastry.

Eddie, still wide-eyed with amazement, turns to look up at you. You’re lingering at his side, a sweet thing dressed in pastel pink. He reaches over to smooth a hand over your pale tights. His ringed fingers are almost achingly warm when they curl around the back of your thigh. He tilts his chin to smile at you with all his teeth.

“I thought you loved Queen, babe,” he chuckles, squeezing gently at your leg.

“I do,” you insist, always shy in your way, as you shift your weight on your feet. Your sheepish gaze flits to the tray in your hand — to the hand-made snowmen, trees, and snowflakes. “I just didn’t know that’s what he looked like.”

“Was he pretty?” Eddie teases with a knowing squint in his chocolate eyes.

You shrug, burning with misplaced embarrassment. “I don’t know… I didn’t really look,” you mutter. His chest swells with something short of pride. “They just wanted to try my cookies—”

“That’s what she said,” Gareth quips. Followed by an audible slap when Jeff reaches over to smack him. “—Ow!”

“Was Freddie Mercury there?” Dustin wonders from across the room, smiling wide at the thought. His giggle is boyish and high-pitched. “That’d be insane.”

You shake your head in response. “No— but now that I think about it, that’s probably why they said they needed to take some extra for Fred. There was another guy there, though.”

“Yeah?” Eddie lilts to egg you on.

“Yeah. He kinda looked like a poodle—”

“Brian May!” the room choruses.

“Um…” you mumble under your breath. “Maybe?”

“One of the best guitarists of our time Brian May?” Robin wonders, a tad bit dramatic, and filled with life all over again. “Astrophysicist and super genius Brian May?”

Your smile is innocent and utterly sincere. “Oh, he’s an astrophysicist? That’s so cool!”

Robin groans again, and you flinch.

“…What?”

“Nothing,” Eddie answers for her, squeezing your leg to bring your attention back to him again. His rosy grin widens when your eyes meet his. “You’re just cute.”

Your face heats like it’s the first time he’s ever complimented you. Your warm cheek tilts to your shoulder as you smile quietly back at him. “Well, thank you,” you mutter shyly.

“Why can’t anything good happen to me?” Robin whines.

Steve doesn’t mean to laugh, but it tumbles out before he can stop it. “It did happen to you. You were there.”

“Well, it didn’t feel good at the time!”

The door creaks open again. Nancy and Jonathan walk in together, fashionably late. It wouldn’t be surprising if she stopped a couple of musicians for impromptu interviews and didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer — bound to be on the front page of Hawkins Post come Sunday morning.

Jonathan, however, looks a little bit dazed. “Is that— Is that Queen in the hallway?” he whispers to the group of you, like he’s scared the band might hear him.

“Yep,” Robin deadpans in response, popping the p.

“Ooh. Smells like a bakery in here,” Nancy lilts with a pretty pink smile.

You get all shy because it’s entirely your fault. “Yeah. Sorry. I kinda… went overboard with the cookies.”

“Don’t be sorry. I love when you bake us stuff,” she assures you, then bites the head off of a sugary snowman. She sighs at the heavenly taste and nods with it stuck in her cheek. “Don’t ever, ever be sorry.”

You giggle all pretty in response.

Jonathan reaches into the tray and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. “Woah. What’s this?”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry. I meant to throw that away—”

Nancy rips it from his hands. She straightens it out as best she can and squints when she finds writing on the back of it. She grins like she’s found some kind of hidden treasure. 

“Wait, this is someone’s phone number,” she announces to the rest of them room. She reads it out loud for all of you, each of you on the edges of your metaphorical seats. “Thanks for the cookies, but I bet you taste sweeter. I’m free after the show. Call me. Roger.”

The room goes deadly silent.

Eddie is among the gaping mouths of shock, unsure if he should be jealous or amused.

“He wanted to try your cookies, alright,” Gareth chuckles under his breath. Jeff snorts out a laugh, then reaches over to slap him again. The curly-haired boy cowers. “Oh, come on! You thought it was funny, too!”

“Let me see that,” Eddie insists, rising on his feet to take the paper from Nancy’s painted fingertips. 

His brown eyes flit back and forth as he reads it for himself. Once, then twice, then a few more times after that. He’s about to play a show for thousands of people, yet this is somehow harder for him to grasp.

“Roger Taylor wants to fuck my girlfriend,” he murmurs in amazement to himself.

For some reason, feeling the need to defend yourself, you rush to get the words out. “I didn’t know that’s what that was, Eds, I swear— I figured he thought I worked here, and he was just giving me his trash to throw away.”

Eddie turns to you, still silent. His chocolate eyes are slightly glazed over as he blinks at you — the sweetest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, so polite in her shyness and aloof with it, too. 

Still in a state of subtle disbelief about all of this — the phone number, the looming performance, and the fact he ever landed you in the first place — he shakes his wild head with a dumbfounded smile.

“I love the shit outta you, you know that?” he says with a burst of low, boyish laughter. He doesn’t give you the opportunity to answer before wrapping you up in his leather-clad arms and pressing a smothering kiss to your mouth.

[kaelaheartsyou]

FEVER DREAM

caitlin clark x reader type | 5.1k words, 19k characters

warnings:

literally pure smut idk guys wtf

mentions of connor mccaffery

it honestly felt like a fever dream.

you had made your way into a small bar in downtown indianapolis with your friend jess.

it was an average friday night, you guys always went to the same bar, on the same day, at the same time.

the warm atmosphere of the place was alive the dim lighting of the downtown bar illuminated swathes of wood and metal, r&b music softly playing in the background. the walls were decorated with framed photographs of local athletes, and the chatter of people filled the air, punctuated by laughter and the clinking of glasses. it was a typical friday night, and the place buzzed with energy—especially after a victorious game by the fever.

even if you didnt follow basketball, you knew who the indiana fever were. who caitlin clark was.

it was here that you found yourself, perched on a stool at the bar, sharing a moment with your friend, jess. you both had decided to revel in the post-game buzz that encapsulated the entire venue. there were fans that had came straight from the game, wearing fever gear to celebrate the win.

from across the bustling space, your gaze landed on what you would've never expected to see. the whole team there, gathered around a few couches playing pool.

sitting next to who you knew was her boyfriend connor, was none other than caitlin clark. you scoffed looking at her, she was dressed quite casually. her athletic build was hidden by a crewneck with the words 'indiana fever womens basketball' splayed across it and simple black cargo pants that spoke both of comfort and style.

you sighed before turning back to jess "look." you said motioning your head to the group.

her eyes widened momentarily before speaking "quite brave of them to show up to a bar, where tons of their fans are"

a small chuckle escaped past your lips "do you think they're actually together? or maybe some type of stunt to prevent people from questioning her?" you asked, shifting the conversation to connor and caitlin.

she thought for a moment before a sly grin appeared on her lips "either way people question her. but you should find out"

you found her words almost comical. ALMOST. instead she just sounded downright ridiculous. idiotic even.

you laughed dryly "you're funny you know that?" you said, but you couldnt help turning your head back to caitlin who had what looked like a forced smile on her face as she watched connor talk to another girl, occasionally saying a word or two.

jess followed your gaze before responding "im not joking though. i mean, how fucking cool would it be to say you hooked up with caitlin clark!" she said a little too loudly for comfort

your eyes widened, not just at how loud she was, but at her words themselves. "oh my god you're being serious?!" you whispered shouted.

she smirked at you "oh cmon whats the harm, shes clearly not enjoying herself"

you assumed from videos and pictures you'd seen online that she was quite literally the embodiment of confidence, though looking at her sitting on the couch with her boyfriend, it was hard not to notice how she seemed to lean away from connor, who was engrossed in conversation with some other girl standing nearby. an amused smile crossed your lips, and you turned to jess to share your thoughts. "god, that’s pathetic," you laughed, shaking your head slightly. you both chuckled at the amusing, albeit unfortunate, dynamics of relationships, not realizing that caitlin had momentarily glanced in your direction.

for a split second, the bustle around you fell away. then jess, still giggling, suddenly stopped. she hit your arm lightly, eyes wide, and motioned towards caitlin. you turned back to see her actively staring at you now, her expression hinting at an undeniable intrigue. there was something in they way she looked at you that made your heart race unexpectedly... or maybe you were just delusional.

but when she glanced away briefly and suddenly stood up, you definitely felt your heart rate pick up a little. you watched as she skillfully navigated through the crowd and towards the bar where you and jess were sitting. you turned your attention back to jess, a small part of you hoping she would come up to you. but unsurprisingly and to your luck, she didnt. instead she ordered a round of shots for her team.

you watched secretly as she leaned against the bar looking around and jess nudged you, raising her eyebrows. you simply scoffed muttering a quiet "stop." to which she put her hands up in surrender, dropping the topic at hand.

after caitlin walked away with the shots, getting some help from connor, jess got up to order a drink and you realized you needed one of your own.

"can you get me something? something strong." you asked and she nodded

after a good 5 minutes she returned, sliding your drink in front of you. you eagerly took a sip, cringing slightly at the burning sensation.

"dude what the fuck is this" you groaned taking another sip.

"long island iced somethin, i dont know! the bartender recommended it" she shrugged before sipping her own drink.

you just sighed, before reluctantly finishing the drink as the night progressed. you knew you were drunk when you allowed jess to pull you to the dance floor without complaining. you danced along side the other people on the floor when you caught a glimpse of caitlin walking into the bathroom. and before your drunken mind could think twice about it, you found yourself following her.

inside the dimly lit hallway leading to the restrooms, the noise of the bar faded into a faint murmur. you hesitated briefly before entering the women’s restroom, where caitlin was already fixing her hair in the mirror.

you were already regretting your decision as you cleared your throat awkwardly, standing a safe distance away from her before pretending to adjust your outfit in the mirror.

she was focused on her hair for a moment before glancing at you in the mirror, giving you a once over. “you stalking me?” she asked slightly amused and your heart nearly stopped.

"no- um..no i just.. needed to fix my outfit" you said quickly. internally groaning at how nervous you sounded.

she chuckled, raising a brow. “uh huh.” she replied, turning to lean against the sink. “and i assume you weren't staring at me earlier either?”

"staring? i wasnt staring, my friend noticed you were here so i simply looked. i didnt stare" you lied straight through your teeth as you turned fully to face her.

a soft smirk played on her lips as she hummed. “right. not staring.” she teased. “so, why did you follow me in here then?” she followed up

and for a moment you completely forgot she was fucking caitlin clark. in your defense you were slightly drunk, not even thinking when you spit out your next words

"nobody followed you in here. i came to fix my outfit thats all" you scoffed, simultaneously rolling your eyes. you hadnt even noticed that she had taken a few steps closer to you. you glanced up nervously, only now were you realizing the insane height difference between you two.

she smirked softly, stepping away from the sink and slowly walking over to you, the smirk still on her lips. “right, right.” she said, nodding. she stopped in front of you, her eyes glancing you up and down. “your outfit looks fine to me.”

you furrowed your brows. what does one even say when they're caught in a lie? "um- yeah, because i fixed it" i said in an obvious tone

“mhm.” she hummed, nodding. she took a glance to the bathroom door.

you bit your lip looking up at her, you were still leaning back against the sink. "you having fun with your boyfriend?" you asked

she raised a brow, stepping closer again, now standing in front of you. her expression was unreadable, but the smirk on her lips told she was amused.

“why do you care?” she asked, her eyes scanning your face, studying your body, slowly.

"just wondering, didnt look like you were having a good time" you shrugged

"oh? so you were watching me the whole night?" she said in a teasing tone, lifting a brow. she let her eyes slowly rake over your body once more, her tongue slowly licking her lips.

your eyes widened momentarily at your slip up "not.. the whole night, i just.. noticed." you said looking back up at her

“righttt.” she hummed, not buying it. she took another step forward, now basically trapping you up against the sink.

“i didn’t think I’d have someone so fixated on me.” she said in a teasing tone, that smirk still tugging at her lips.

"you cant be serious.. you're caitlin clark.. in a bar.. full of your fans" you said amused. nonetheless you couldnt help but nervously look at down at where your bodies practically connected.

a soft chuckle left her lips, her eyes still on yours, taking in your reaction. her eyes flickered down to where your face was fixated and that smirk just grew again.

her smirk widened. “oh, so you're a fan then.” she teased, cocking her head to the side again, her eyes still studying your body.

one of her hands slowly slid up your waist and slowly around to the small of your back, pulling your hips to her.

your breath hitched involuntarily "um..no?" you honestly werent, but you weren't complaining about the position you were currently in.

caitlin chuckled softly, noticing the way your breath hitched. she slowly leaned forwards, her body pressing against yours. “you're not? so you wouldn’t mind if I did…this?” she asked, gripping your hip with one hand before leaning in, her lips hovering over yours

you glanced down at her lips before back up at her "no" you whispered

that was all she needed, her smirk turning into a devilish smile before she pressed her lips to yours. the kiss wasn’t shy or tentative, she was dominating and in charge, nipping your lip before slipping her tongue into your mouth.

you moaned softly into the kiss, your hand coming up to tangle in her hair

she pulled you impossibly close, backing you up so you were pressed against the sink, her hand gripping your waist as if to pin you there. her tongue exploring your mouth, she let out a soft moan as one of your hands tangled into her hair.

slowly she turned us around to back us into the bigger sized stall at the end, pulling away for a second to kick close and lock the door before pulling you in for another heated kiss

her hands were on you in an instant, exploring your body. she let out a another soft moan against your lips, pushing you up against the door, her body pressing against you. she slowly lifted your leg up, resting it against her hip as she slowly broke the kiss to kiss down your neck.

you threw your head back against the door, exposing more of your neck for her. your hand coming to tangle back into her hair

she kissed down your neck, nipping softly as her hands began to roam. exploring your body, they slowly ran up your thigh to your hip, her tongue sliding along your pulse point. she bit down on your neck, sucking on the skin there.

"fuck caitlin" you sighed biting your lip. one of your hands sliding underneath her crewneck, feeling her exposed skin.

she groaned against your neck, her fingers digging into your hips as your hand slid underneath her crewneck, the feeling of your fingers making her shiver. she nipped your ear, and spoke in a low whisper, “you like that?”

"yeah..i do" you said slowly "can i take this off?" you said pulling at the hem off her sweatshirt

she nodded as her lips connected to your neck again, her tongue licking at the sensitive skin. “go ahead.” she mumbled, pulling away to help you pull off the crewneck.

you tossed it on the small counter connected to the wall, glancing down at her body clad in just a black nike sports bra. you let out a slow shaky breath and for a moment you remember that you're literally pinned against a stall door by caitlin fucking clark. her words snapped me out of my trance

her hands were back on your body instantly, the feeling of your eyes roaming her body making her shiver. she smirked in satisfaction, leaning forwards so that she was right in front of you, her hands roaming. “see something you like?”

you simply hummed before pulling her back in for another kiss

she smirked against your lips as you pulled her back in, her body pressed flush against yours. one of her hands slowly went back down to your hip, pinning you against the door as she deepened the kiss. her tongue exploring your mouth, she moaned softly, her hands making their way behind your back to unzip your dress, letting it fall off your shoulders and pool at your feet.

you gasped softly before pulling away to look up at her

she pulled away from the kiss to catch her breath, her eyes raking over your body, taking in everything before her. she bit her lip to hold back a smirk, her eyes slowly meeting yours. “fuck, you’re so hot.” she said in a low sultry whisper, her eyes studying your face and your body.

"thanks.." you muttered as if that was an appropriate answer to being told you look 'hot' by caitlin clark.

she suddenly dropped to her knees her hands running over my thighs, holding your legs apart. she bit her lip, her eyes raking over your body. “you're so gorgeous.” she hummed, her lips trailing up your inner thigh, kissing the sensitive skin.

"oh fuck.. dont tease me please" you bit your lip stifling a moan that threatened to escape past your kiss bitten lips

she glanced up at you, noticing the way your bitten lip was failing to hold back a moan. she smirked again, her eyes darkened, taking in your expression. her hands slowly ran up your thighs, her lips getting closer and closer. "don't tease you?" she repeated teasingly, her nose brushing against your core through your underwear.

"caitlin please" you said gripping her hair tightly, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling.

she groaned, letting out a soft moan as you tugged on her hair. the sound of you saying her name like that combined with the sound of you moaning, was almost enough to make her give in.

“you want me to stop teasing, hm?” she asked in a soft whisper, running her tongue slowly along your thigh, tasting the skin there.

"yes please. please stop.." you managed to get out through moans

she groaned again at the way you begged, her fingers slowly hooking into the hem of your underwear. her tongue running along your thigh, she slowly began to pull them down. “you have to be quiet though…can you be quiet for me?” she asked again in a low whisper, looking up at you as she tugged your underwear down your thighs.

you all but fucking whimpered at her words, the feeling of her tongue, her hands pulling your underwear down "yeah i can be quiet. please." you got out

she continued nipping at your inner thighs, her tongue soothing over it

"caitlin please. i promise ill be quiet, just please stop teasing" you whimpered softly

she let out another teasing chuckle, her hands slowly running down from your hips. “well because you’re being so good, i guess ill give you what you want.” she smirked

“what do you want, baby? Tell me exactly what you want.” she groaned

"want you to fuck me.. please.." you said looking down at her, tugging her closer to where you needed her

her breath hitched before her mouth connected to your core, groaning as she tasted you on her tongue. she moved slowly, letting her tongue tease you for a while, taking her time. her hands slowly trailing up your thighs, gripping them as if to hold you in place. “god…you taste so good…” she mumbled against you, her eyes slowly flickering up to yours

you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a guttural moan. your hand tugged at her hair, pulling her impossibly closer as you arched into her touch

her hands came up to hold your hips, holding you in place as you arched into her. the sounds coming from your lips were driving her crazy…she needed to hear her name pass through those lips. “look at me.” She said, her tongue slowly tracing circles around your core.

you fluttered your eyes open to look down at her "fuck caitlin.. dont stop please" you begged absentmindedly

that’s all she wanted…to hear her name coming out of your lips, the needy, broken tone. she groaned, her tongue slowly picking up speed, her hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. “think you can take my fingers too? hm? tell me.” she mumbled, looking up at you.

you moaned before nodding quickly

she groaned at your reaction, “use your words…you have to beg for it.” she said, still moving her tongue at a fast rhythm, her eyes dark and blown out as she looked up at you, taking in the perfect sight before her.

"yes.. yes please fuck me caitlin.." you moaned out and it isnt until she slowly pumps her middle finger into your cunt, that you feel the coil in your stomach on the verge of snapping

"ooohhh fuck.. oh god just like that." you moaned out as she added another finger

she pumped her fingers in and out of you, enjoying the way your thighs clenched around her face as she brought you to your climax "you gonna come for me?" she muttered against your core

"mmhm yeah.. fuck im so close" you rambled before she sped up her actions, pushing you closer to the edge

her eyes darkened at the way how close you sounded, how wrecked she was making you feel. she curled her fingers, pumping them quickly , enjoying the way you squirmed under her touch. “come for me” she demanded, eyes trained on your face

"oh my god-" you moaned out as you came undone on her tongue, her fingers not slowing, instead helping you ride out your high

she watched you come undone, slowly bringing you back down to earth. once she knew you were done, she slowly pulled back, a small smirk appearing on her face as she took in your now wrecked expression. “you okay?”

you took a shaky breath fluttering your eyes back open.. "yeah.. holy shit" you managed to get out

she let out a small chuckle, slowly standing back up until she towered over you again. she bit her lip, her eyes slowly raking over your body before coming back up to your face. “you look fucked out…I did that.” she said with a cocky smirk.

you rolled my eyes "no way thats what you have to say after that."

she chuckled softly "i should get back out there, my team and.. connor.. are probably wondering where i went.." she said sighing

you narrowed your eyes before reluctantly pulling your dress back up your body "yeah you should.."

"you owe me though" she mumbled "give me your phone"

you furrowed your brows before unlocking your phone and handing it to her. she quickly typed in her number, adding her contact, her name simply said 'cait'

she helped zip up your dress before throwing her sweatshirt back on and walking out of the stall, where ironically she went to fix her hair and you your outfit.

"text me yeah?" she spoke up suddenly, turning to you

"yeah.. yeah i will" you said before she smiled and nodded before walking out of the bathroom. you smiled to yourself before walking out a few minutes after her to meet back up with jess.

lord knows you slept real good that night

[bbydoll18xx]

Pet Names and Airplanes (Part 3)

Paige Bueckers x reader

It’s Paige’s turn to call the shots.

Themes: smut!! dom!Paige, friends to lovers

Word Count: 2.5k

Part 1

Part 2

A/N: IT FINALLY LET ME POST HALLELUJAH!! You sweetie pies asked for a part 3 and here it is! And to whoever was the original anon who sent me the idea for Pet Names and Airplanes, i love u

~

Seattle had crushed Indiana, although that was pretty much a given. What you hadn’t expected, though, was Paige’s attitude after the game. The whole time, her hand was placed possessively on your thigh, fingers only leaving the soft flesh to be thrown in the air in a joyous celebration of Seattle scoring. And you certainly delighted in the way Paige kept sneaking peeks at one of the hickeys she had left at the base of your throat, threatening to expose the sheer naughtiness that had gone down yesterday. And this morning. 

The relationship between the two of you had changed dramatically in the last 48 hours, leaving you with an undeniable giddiness that bubbled in your chest. And now here you were, talking to Nika on the sidelines of the basketball court, feeling the blonde’s eyes on you, the heat of them radiating off of you in a way that had you shivering. 

Your arm was wrapped around Nika’s waist in a friendly hold; you had missed the Croatian girl, but Paige’s body language suggested that if you didn’t back away, you’d be in deep shit. Her eyes narrowed as you scooched in closer, meeting her gaze with a smug look that said ‘Whatcha going to do about it?’ 

It was not long before she was pulled away by yet another throng of young, adoring fans. She posed for pictures and signed basketballs and shirts, a fond smile adorning your face as you watched, thinking that if anyone deserved all of this, it was Paige.

You are pulled out of your thoughts by Nika who was elbowing you in the side with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

“When are you gonna tell her that you love her?” She questions smugly, and your mouth falls open in shock.

You splutter, not even remotely able to form a coherent sentence for a second. She was able to read you like a damn book, and you felt momentarily embarrassed to think that you were that transparent. You had always worn your heart on your sleeve, but you longed to be one of those girls that were just effortlessly cool and almost mysterious. You hated how people could see what you were feeling just by looking at your face, and while you knew your emotional disposition made you who you were, sometimes it felt like it was your personal downfall.

The blaze of your cheeks add fuel to the fire, and Nika giggles as you hide your face in your hands. You sigh defeatedly. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“It’s Paige,” she soothes. “You guys have always had something more than just a friendship. It’ll work out.” She pulls you into another hug, just as Paige walks back over to the two of you. She clears her throat loudly, and you and Nika separate, meeting her eye with your cheeks still flushed from Nika’s observation. 

“Ready to head back to the hotel, princess?” Paige asks you, her blue eyes staring into yours, and she wraps an arm around your waist possessively, drawing you into her and away from her old teammate. 

You smirk at her blatant jealousy, mentally high-fiving yourself that at least she also lacked subtlety when it came to you.

“I don’t know, P,” you trail. “Maybe we should hang out with Nika some more.” You wet your lips as you look up at the Croatian girl, who is looking between you and Paige with a confused look on her face.

“I want you. All to myself,” she responds bluntly, sending a wave of butterflies soaring through your belly and straight down to your pussy.

Paige sends a glare in Nika’s direction, and a flash of realization dawns on the brunette, her face morphing into a look of pure revulsion.

“Hell no, you two better not be getting me in the middle of whatever this is” Nika scolded, her accent coming out, mixing with the disgust in her voice. She was smart, and she clearly saw your attempts to make Paige jealous.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow. Just go fuck each other like I know you want to,” she says crudely, holding back a laugh. “But thanks for coming. I love you both,” Nika beams, waving and walking towards the Seattle locker rooms. 

“Finally,” Paige mutters, interlocking your fingers with hers and pulling you towards the exit.

The uber back to the hotel was eventful, and if Paige’s possessive grip on your thigh during the game didn’t have you completely dripping, the open-mouth kisses she had been pressing to your neck and jaw certainly did.

It was difficult to hold back your moans in front of the uber driver who was already eying you and Paige suspiciously, and you let out a sigh of relief as he pulled in front of your hotel. Racing through the hall and opening up the door, you rush in, Paige hot on your tail. 

“Finally got you all to myself,” Paige murmured, looking down at you through lustful, hooded eyes. Her voice was deep and husky, dripping with want, and it reignited the swarm of butterflies in your belly. 

“About damn time,” you respond flirtily, before connecting your lips with hers with a moan. Her lips taste like the cherry slushy she had drank at the game, and the smoothness of them has you pressing up into her, desperate for more. 

Paige opens her mouth for you, intertwining her tongue with yours before suddenly pulling away. You chase her lips with a pout on your own, confused as to why she was stopping. You look up at her with fake indignance, and she gazes at you with a sadistic glint in her eyes. 

“Strip and get on the bed.” 

Her tone is firm, and the dominance oozing from her words makes every nerve in your body light up, temporarily putting you in a daze. You bite your bottom lip in a bruising tug, looking up at Paige with wide eyes. 

“Now.” 

The forcefulness of it sends jolts through your most intimate area, and you pull your top over your head, throwing it onto the floor haphazardly, your jeans following shortly after. You are left standing in a black bra and matching panties, and Paige has moved to sit in the chair, legs spread wide. 

“I want you completely naked, baby. Don’t get shy with me. Want to see those pretty little marks on your tits,” she drawls, and her voice alone has you nearly panting with lust. There was something so naughty about her watching you strip, and your body erupts in goosebumps in anticipation. 

Your bra comes off first. The cool air of the hotel room hits your nipples, perking them up in a way that makes Paige run her tongue across her bottom lip, soothing it from the incessant biting. Your panties soon follow, and your body flushes as you notice the stickiness of your inner thighs from your own slick. 

You climb onto the plush bed, ass sticking up in the air, wiggling provocatively in order to get a rise out of the watchful blonde. Settling against the mountain of pillows with your legs slightly spread, you stare back at Paige, trying desperately to avoid covering yourself up. Her gaze is burning into your skin like tiny pinpricks of lustful want, and you squirm at the lack of stimulation. 

You knew you looked needy, but Paige loved it, reveling in the mild humiliation of you being spread out for her viewing pleasure.

Not wanting to back down just quite yet, you hold her eye contact until she stands, sauntering over to the end of the bed. Her gaze lowers slowly, starting at the base of your throat where the myriad of hickies begin, trailing down to your tits and across your stomach, landing on your glistening center. 

A shiver runs down your spine, tightening your nipples even more, and you lick your lips in anticipation of what’s to come. 

“You gonna be a good girl for me, princess?” She asks, arms crossed and biceps bulging. 

A slight whine leaves your throat. “Yes, always good for you,” you promise.

However, Paige looks unconvinced, a wry smile plastered on her gorgeous features. “You weren’t being very good after the game. Hanging all over Nika like a little slut.”

Your heart pounds at her degrading words, and you try to come up with a decent excuse. “I-” 

She cuts you off with a wave of the hand and a scoff. “Save it. You think you’re a good girl? Prove it.”

Before you can even ask how to prove it, Paige is stripping and laying on the bed with spread legs. You crawl over to her, wanting to do everything possible to please her, but she stops you before you can attach your mouth to her sopping center.

“If you want to taste me, you gotta beg,” she claims smugly, and you flush at her words. Just yesterday, you had the upper hand, and now here you were, about to beg to eat her out. 

“P…” you trail off, but she was devilishly unrelenting. A wide smirk adorns her face as she spreads her legs a bit more, beckoning you closer towards her slick warmth. 

Realizing that you were in fact going to have to beg, you decide to give in, losing the battle between your pride and your sanity. 

“Please, Paigey…” you whimper, lips in a prominent pout. “I’ll do anything for you. Just let me have a taste.”

Paige pretends to think about it for a second, mockingly tapping her chin. “I suppose a little taste won’t hurt,” she relents, and before she can go back on her words, you dive in like a woman starved. 

A long moan is pulled from the depths of her throat as you lick a long stripe across her pussy, and you welcome the taste. She was obviously just as turned on as you. The sheer depravity of the situation hits you, and you reach down in between your legs to take care of the burning ache. Two small circles against your clit is all you manage to make before Paige is leaning down to swat your hand away with a dissatisfied tut. 

“Nuh uh. Don’t be touching your pretty, little pussy.” 

Your cheeks burn, but she quickly grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and guides your head back down. And that’s all the encouragement you need. Soon enough she’s a moaning mess under you, coming undone with your name on her lips, and you’re licking your own, as if she was the most delicious meal you’ve ever had.

“Fuck, baby,” she moans. “Such a good girl for me.”

And before you can preen at her praises, she is on top of you. Hot, open mouth kisses are being pressed up and down your neck, alternating between sharp bites and soothing licks, adding to the purple marks. Paige trails her fingers up and down your sides before squeezing at your hips, melding the flesh experimentally. 

“Need more,” you pant out, and she hums against your skin, the vibrations shooting through you add to the overwhelmingness of everything. She is descending down your body now, your belly and hips peppered with kisses, all the way down to your inner thighs. She purposely ignores your aching pussy, and your hips fly up to try and meet the softness of her lips, desperate to feel some stimulation.

“Fuck, P, don’t make me beg again,” you whine, and Paige gives you another wide smirk from between your legs. 

She blows cool air across the heat of your dripping pussy, and mutters, “But it’s so sexy when you beg for me, baby.” 

“Paige, please,” you whimper, drawing out the syllables of her name, and finally she acquiesces. A long string of expletives leave your parted lips as she plunges two fingers into you and swirls her tongue around your swollen clit. Paige’s fingers were magic, pumping unabatedly into you and curling expertly against the ridges of your g-spot. 

You bring a hand up to pull roughly at your nipple, causing Paige to let out a low groan at the sight of you playing with your tits, and the vibration shoots straight through your core. If you hadn’t been so comfortable around Paige, you would almost feel embarrassed about how fast you were coming undone. 

This was some teenage boy shit. 

Your moans grow louder and louder as she adds a third finger, the stretch feeling like nothing from the amount of juices slicking the entrance of your pussy and sliding down your inner thighs. She continues to curve her fingers up to that sweet spot, causing you to see stars, and eats you out with unwavering persistence.

“G-gonna cum,” you moan, and before Paige can respond, you are gushing around her fingers with a high-pitched whine and her name on your lips. She slows down her movements, allowing you to ride out your high, before removing her fingers from you and licking them seductively. 

Fuck she was so hot. 

Paige watches your chest rise and fall while you try to catch your breath, strung out from how good she just fucked you. She thinks that you had never looked so beautiful, skin glowing from the lamp of the hotel and the sheen of your sweat adding to the radiance. You’re looking back at her in sheer adoration, wondering how you got so lucky to be in this predicament. 

“God, that just keeps getting better every time,” you giggle once you catch your breath, and Paige chuckles, nodding in agreement. She heads to the bathroom for a washcloth to clean you up, and once she does, she pulls you under the covers, and you think that life could not possibly get better. 

The two of you bask in the glow of orgasms and an overall fondness for one another, both silently musing over how much your relationship had changed in the last few days. As if Paige was reading your thoughts, you hear her whisper, “I don’t think I can go back to just being friends with you.” 

Your heart skips a beat. “I was thinkin’ the same thing,” you mumble, grateful that you could forego the awkward ‘what are we’ conversation. “I don’t think we were ever really just friends,” you add, you cheeks pink as you recall all the flirty moments that had occurred between you and the blonde.

“True,” Paige says, nuzzling her face into your neck. “Well, glad we figured that out.” She pulls you in for another kiss, this time sweet and innocent, without the fire that sex tends to follow. It was all you really needed. Paige was all you really needed. 

And when you sit down in your seat on the airplane the following day, you smile as the memories replay in your mind. Love was forged from nothing but a friendship reformed due to a silly little plane ride and a silly little pet name. 

~

woohoo! let me know what you think!! xoxo

[luveline]

Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻

quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k

Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours. 

You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm. 

“Don’t get too hot!” you call. 

“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout. 

“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.” 

Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly. 

“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?” 

“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her. 

Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same. 

Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time. 

The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine. 

“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.

“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze. 

“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy. 

“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.” 

“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.” 

“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says. 

“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes. 

“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.” 

“She was disgusted.” 

“She said we were being weird teenagers.”

“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.” 

“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.” 

“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.

Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.” 

He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back. 

“Are you okay?” she asks. 

“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?” 

Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?” 

“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.” 

“Right. Isn’t everybody?” 

“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.” 

“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.” 

Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling. 

“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly. 

“I missed my cousin, I think.” 

Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug. 

“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles. 

He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset. 

“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says. 

“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.” 

“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.” 

“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.” 

“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally. 

“Why now?” 

“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.

You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?” 

“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front. 

You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease. 

Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says. 

“Freezing!” 

Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.” 

“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?” 

“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.” 

“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.” 

“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck. 

You push against his hand gently with your cheek. 

“Sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.” 

“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.” 

“How much do you have left?” he asks. 

“Nothing. I was just about to get out.” 

“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?” 

“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere. 

Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.” 

You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck. 

“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses. 

“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair. 

“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.” 

“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper. 

“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.

“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble. 

“What?” 

“It’s a good thing.” 

“How dare you.” 

“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead. 

“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says. 

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge. 

“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”

He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore. 

[megxplryxb]

Dance with me Forever

Pairings - Steve Harrington x Fem!HopperReader

Warnings: None. Absolute fluff, Idiots in love, Mutual Pining, Friends to lovers, Jopper Wedding

The hot summer sun had finally set on a beautiful Saturday evening in the middle of July. The sound of champagne glasses clinking echoed throughout the romantic lake house ballroom, lit up in pinks and purples as guests celebrated the marriage of Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers. The couple had finally decided to tie the knot and unite their families once Vecna had been defeated, ending the nightmare of the Upside Down once and for all. It had been a long four years, continuously battling monsters from another dimension, always wondering when evil would rear it’s ugly head again but this time felt different, like there was finally peace in the mystical little town of Hawkins, Indiana.

The last few years had changed no one more than Steve Harrington. Long gone was the arrogant, rich boy you’d known in High School, having been cut off by his parents and left heartbroken by Nancy Wheeler, he had become somewhat of an outcast. Never in a million years did he imagine his life turning out quite like it had. Steve always thought he’d end up like his Father, marrying some girl for convenience instead of love, being nothing more than a suit for some company and have a mistress in every city he traveled to. Steve was more than grateful he hadn’t gone down the same path and he knew he had you, Robin and the kids to thank for that.

He was sat at a table with Robin, Vickie, Eddie, Chrissy and Nancy, all of whom were engrossed in conversation about how sweet Hopper’s speech had been and how emotional it was when the Chief of Police shed a few tears while gushing about his new Wife, your new Stepmom. Steve couldn’t exactly say he had heard much of Jim’s speech himself, too busy gazing at you sitting at the top table with your family, holding back your own tears, laughing with your siblings, El, Will and Jonathan. He hadn’t seen you all day as you were too busy doing bridesmaid duties, making sure everything was perfect for the ceremony but when you walked down the aisle, holding your bouquet of flowers, smelling like lavender, he swore his heart stopped when you looked his way and smiled at him. You were breathtaking, literally and figuratively, the girl of his dreams. Eddie had teased his friend for how red his cheeks had gotten, knowing that the former King of Hawkins was head over heels for you and that you felt the same about Steve. Chrissy had intervened, telling her boyfriend to lay off with the teasing but she too secretly wondered why Steve didn’t just tell you how he felt. It was obvious to everyone that you loved each other.

It’s not that Steve didn’t want to tell you, he’d almost told you twice before on the brink of death. The first time being when you were stuck in the Russian base under the Starcourt mall, the second time being when you were all preparing to battle Vecna for the final time. But he’d made a promise to your Dad two years prior, after that night in the Junkyard when you first became friends that friendship was all it was ever going to be between you. Steve didn’t blame Hopper for wanting better for his daughter, didn’t blame Jim for thinking he was exactly like his Dad back then. But he wished the Chief of Hawkins could see him for who he was now and not the asshole he was four years ago.

After dinner was done and all the pictures had been taken, you took yourself out to the garden with a glass of champagne in hand, glancing at Steve before you made your escape outside. He looked so handsome in his tux, the tux you’d helped him pick out several weeks ago when he asked you to go shopping with him. You hadn’t spoken to him all day, having been avoiding him like the plague for the better part of a week when he mentioned that he was planning to bring a date to the wedding. You had tried your best to not let it bother you, the thought of Steve with some pretty girl on his arm while you were all alone and you’d be lying if you said you weren't just a tiny bit relieved when he'd shown up all by himself.

You knew your Father had spoken to Steve about you, warned him against asking you out on several occasions and even though you were angry that Steve obeyed him, it kind of made you love him even more, because the Steve you'd known in High School wouldn't have been so respectful. Sometimes though, late at night when you couldn’t sleep, you wished he’d climb through your bedroom window so you both could give in to your feelings just one time.

As Joyce danced with her new Husband, she couldn't help but frown at Steve who was standing talking to Murray at the bar. He'd left his table to get another drink after the meal, not wanting to be surrounded by all the happy couples while he not so secretly pinned for you. Joyce had always liked Steve, saw the goodness in him that her Husband couldn't and she knew how the both of you felt about each other.

"Hop, are you ever going to give that poor kid a break?" She asks as Hopper let out a heavy sigh, knowing exactly who she was referring to.

"Joyce, please not tonight, it's our wedding for Christ sake." He begs as his new wife nodded in agreement. It wasn't the first time they'd discussed this matter.

"Exactly! It's a day full of love and happiness and your daughter is out there miserable and alone because she's terrified to talk to the boy she's crazy about in case she upsets you!" She huffs, frustrated at the Chief's stubbornness.

"Oh come on, I'm not that bad!" He defends as Joyce rolls her eyes. "What about the crap you pulled on Mike when he and El got together? The kid thought you were going to murder him Jim.”

"But I didn't! See, he's alive and well, having a great time!" Jim points to his younger daughter and her boyfriend dancing with their friends.

"And what about Steve, huh? When are you going to admit that you were wrong about him?" The bride asks, raising her brows.

"Joyce...."

"Jim Hopper, that boy has helped save our children's lives more times than I care to count. He would do anything for OUR daughter, he’s shown it time and time again. You know he’s nothing like his Father. They love each other, Jim. So quit being a god damn pain in everyone's ass and go talk to him, please?" Joyce begs, giving her new Husband a small, hopeful smile as he closes his eyes and sighs defeatedly.

"Fine, alright. I'm going."

Steve is nursing a glass of champagne, trying to look somewhat interested in Murray's ramblings when he see's Hopper approaching him at the bar. Jim lets out a small cough, before giving Murray a nod to give them a minute alone and Steve nervously waits for Jim to speak.

"Oh shit, what'd you do?" Murray mutters to Steve before downing his glass of whiskey, giving him a hopeful pat on the back before going to talk to the new Mrs. Hopper.

Jim leans back against the bar, fixing his suit jacket as he tries to think about what to say the boy beside him. He knows he should apologise for being an asshole to him but it's his wedding day and he wasn't apologising to anyone. Not today at least.

"Harrington, why is my daughter out there by herself?" He asks, pointing to you, still strolling through the garden alone.

"I uh, I don't know Sir, I haven't talked to her all day." Steve replies, wondering if this was some kind of trick.

"Well, maybe you should be a gentleman and go keep her company, huh?" The Chief suggests and Steve is really suspicious now.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell if you're being serious or not?" Steve questions honestly, not trying to offend your Dad in any way.

"When am I ever not serious about anything that has to do with my daughters?" He asks, looking straight at Steve. "Never, sir." He answers back.

There's silence for a moment as the two most important men in your life pause to look at you. You stare back at them, astounded that they seem to be having a conversation without your father looking like he was going to kill Steve.

"Do you love my daughter, Steve?" Jim asks, both of them still watching you in the distance. Hopper already knows the answer, he’s known it for quite sometime. He saw how Steve protected you during the battle in Starcourt, heard about how he looked after you and El when everyone thought he was dead. He’d have to thank him for that one day but not now. This was hard enough.

Steve didn’t have to think twice before answering the question, even if it meant getting choked out or knocked on conscious by Jim Hopper.

"More than anything in this world." Steve admits, smiling brightly as his heart swells with adoration for you. Hopper nods then, placing an approving hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Then go make her happy." He says, giving the boy the smallest of smiles as Steve begins to cross the ballroom floor.

"Hey, Harrington!" Jim yells, as Steve looks back at him, hoping it wasn't really a trick all this time. "You're a good kid." He admits, as the boy nods an appreciative thank you, finally making his way to the garden to find you.

Joyce smiles at Steve as she walks towards her Husband, wrapping her arms around him tightly, before kissing him. "You're a good man, Jim Hopper."

He sighs heavily before he begins to laugh. "Happy wife, happy life."

Steve can hear his heart beating out of his chest as he slowly approaches you, watching you in awe as the moonlit sky makes your skin glow. You haven't noticed him yet, too busy gazing at the stars above, wishing for your own fairytale ending. Your hair which had been in an up-style all day was now hanging below your shoulders and Steve thought you had never looked more beautiful than right now.

"You could catch a cold out here you know?" Steve whispers from behind you, already removing his suit jacket to cover your shoulders before you even turn to face him.

"Hey stranger, I feel like I haven't talked to you all day." You smile, turning to greet him, embracing him in a warm hug as you both stay that way for what seems like several minutes.

"Yeah, I know. I missed you, Hopper." He admits, as you blush. "I missed you too, Harrington."

The song inside changes to Take My Breath Away by Berlin and Steve knows it's one of your favourites, he bought you the album for your birthday and it's still the most played tape in your car. You both watch as everyone begins to fill the dance floor back inside the lake house and Steve swallows hard before extending his hand to you.

"Will you dance with me, out here?" He asks as you nod your head, happily reaching for his hand as he pulls you in closer to him. You nervously wrap an arm around Steve's neck, inhaling his cologne and shampoo all at once. He always smelled so good. He places his other hand gently on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers together as you begin to dance slowly to the music playing inside. There was silence for a few moments before Steve cleared his throat to speak again.

"You know, I really could’ve used you at our table earlier. Nancy ditched us to sit with Jonathan the minute the speeches were over, so I got stuck with all the loved up couples, it was totally awful.” He jokes, referring to Eddie, Chrissy, Robin and Vickie.

"I thought you were going to bring a date?" You question, trying to hide the jealousy in your voice when you ask.

"Oh yeah, I was thinking about asking someone but I didn't in the end." He frowns and you bite your lip, wanting to know more.

"Why not?"

"Cause her Dad would've kicked my ass." He replies, as you let out a small giggle. Stomach filling with butterflies as he gazes at you.

“That’s too bad, I have a feeling she would’ve said yes anyway.” You whisper in his ear, leaning your head on his shoulder as he mumbles “Oh really? Well in that case, the ass kicking would’ve been worth it.”

"I saw him talking to you, thought you were a goner for sure." You tease as Steve shakes his head.

"I knew I'd be ok, too many witnesses around." He jokes, as you both laugh.

"I'd have come to your rescue eventually, if i thought it looked like you were in trouble, you know?" You admit and he nods his head gratefully.

"I know, honey." Honey. Was he trying to kill you?

"Seriously though, he didn't upset you, did he?" You ask as you continue to dance to the music.

"No actually, the total opposite." Steve smirks as you scrunch your nose.

"What do you mean?"

"He asked me why you were out here alone, told me to come and keep you company." He reveals as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Really?”

"I know, I was shocked too but I think Joyce said something to him because she was giving him the death stare the whole time he was talking to me." Steve chuckles and you remind yourself to thank your Stepmom later.

"He asked me something else too." Steve states, swinging you around.

"Oh god, what was it?" You ask, still spinning.

"He wanted to know if I was in love with his daughter." He says, as you fall back in to him in shock, placing your hands on his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel sick with excitement, like a kid at Christmas about to unwrap her presents under the tree.

“And…what did you tell him?”

"That he had nothing to worry about, El is way too young for me." He jokes as you smack him playfully on the chest.

"Steve! I'm being serious, what did you really say to him?"

“I told him that I do, more than I’ve ever loved anybody.” Steve admits as your eyes begin to water.

“I love you too, Steve.” You reveal, trying to hold back your tears as Steve cups your face gently, placing his forehead lightly against yours.

“You looked so beautiful today honey. When I saw you walk down that aisle, I thought, Christ, I could just marry her right now.” He smirks as you bump your nose with his.

“Careful Harrington, a few more compliments like that and I might just have to kiss you.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hovers his lips over yours.

“Yeah, I’m sort of counting on it.” Steve says, finally crashing his lips with yours, not giving a damn who sees. You were finally all his.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 7.5k

Chapter 1/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Late August, 1996. 

July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana. 

The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior. 

“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool. 

“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it. 

“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”

The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking. 

You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”

She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”

You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.

“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”

Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights   has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.

“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”

“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too. 

“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”

“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in. 

“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”

Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”

“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”

“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”

An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended. 

“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”

“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated. 

“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.  

“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do. 

“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.” 

The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”

“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.” 

Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.  

“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said. 

A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.

“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.

“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.

Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.

The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.

“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.

It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol. 

“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”

“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically. 

Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”

Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself. 

Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink. 

“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”

The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth. 

Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band. 

You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”

She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”

You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis. 

“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt. 

Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name. 

Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat. 

“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.

“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”

“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.

But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”

“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”

He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”

“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.

“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”

“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.

“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”

You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.

“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence. 

“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.

Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.

Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.

“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”

“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.

“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”

He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”

“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.

“Turned thirty last month.”

“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.” 

He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.

You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.” 

End of conversation.

“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs. 

“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”

Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.

“You still want to?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”

Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home. 

You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.

A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.

“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.

“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.

The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.

Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.

“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.

“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but–big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…

Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.

“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”

You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building. 

The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.” 

You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.

Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.

“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin. 

“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.

“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it. 

Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”

You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.

“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.

Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”

“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers. 

Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.

Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.

You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth. 

“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”

He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him. 

“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend. 

“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.

“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.

“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.

“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”

“Huh? What?”

“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.

“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”

Stay for a bit, baby.

It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock. 

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!” 

He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you. 

You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.

You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.

You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.

“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”

That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What?”

“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”

Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”

Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.

You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.

“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.

“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night? 

“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”

“Yeah…is Jess there?”

He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”

“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.

But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up. 

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.

Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”

Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.” 

His…son?

Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”

“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”

“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”

“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.

“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”

You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?

The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.

Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.

Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.

“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.

“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.

“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”

“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.

A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”

Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.

You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best. 

The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.

“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”

“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.

Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…

And a Harris Munson.

“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”

The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.

You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes. 

“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”

“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead. 

“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie. 

“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”

You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now. 

“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”

“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”

The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks. 

Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”

“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys. 

“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks. 

“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek. 

You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”

Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”

“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded. 

After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.

“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”

He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”

“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”

Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.

Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.” 

Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.

“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.

You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris. 

Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”

Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts. 

“Excuse me?”

“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face. 

You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”

Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”

He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”

“Can’t come soon enough.”

Taglist: @littlepotatobeansworld @kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @definitelynotecho @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday @breezybeesposts @tlclick73 @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @krahk

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[defrosted69]

My Laker Star P.3 (Kang Haerin)

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hey everyone. Here's a finale of this series. After a long sleep in this platform, I have returned briefly. I hope you all enjoy this one. And one last tip from me, I suggest you listen to the song "First Love" by Hikaru Utada throught out the story, especially at the end of this one. I promise you, you wont regret it.

(7.3k words total)

.

.

.

With everyone looking asleep, her light footstep led her through each room of the hostel, and she had to double-check to make sure everyone was still groggy from yesterday's schedule. She didn't have to open the third door any farther since her Unnie's heavy snoring was audible.

"Welp, at least I know she's knocked out."

She thought to herself before once again tip toeing her way to the living room. With a swift motion, she turned their TV on, sat on the couch, covered herself with her blanket and switched the program to...

The NBA channel.

"Welcome everyone to a chilly night here in downtown LA as we are in for a treat for an exciting match up between the home team, Los Angeles Lakers and hot winning team in the east, The Indiana Pacers. Tonight we'll get to see a match up of Point Guards between Y/N McDaniels and Tyrese Haliburton. "

"That's right Mike, tonight we'll get to see the NBA best passers duking it out to see who's the best passer in the NBA and lead their team tonight to victory. Will the Pacers extend their winning streak to 5 games or will they fall to the 10th seed Lakers?"

"Y/N with the ball. Bringing the ball half court. A screen from Wood and he's bursting to the lane and throws it down right at Myles Turner! Wow!"

"Oohhhh. Right at the face of Myles Turner Mike! That's all elevation. Wow! This kid is incredible man"

Haerin's eyes had never been so wide with joy as she watched you play your heart out on the court. Every shot you fired, she'd hop up and down, leaving her seat, but she'd understand she shouldn't make too much noise. Her smile never left her face while the game went on. But perhaps this was also her weakness since while she's engaged on the game, she frequently, if not always, forgets about her surroundings.

"With 12 seconds left, the lakers trail by 1 and we all know where the ball is going. Y/N is doubled team. Here we go, Austin looking, Looking, passes it to Y/N. Doubled team, crossed to the left shoot-OHHHH!! Fouled and-1, 4 point play by Y/N! How did he do that?!"

"Hehe, Your so good Y/N!"

"Oh he's cute."

Haerin flinched hearing another voice next to her. Her head has never turned so fast in her entire life and so did her member who chuckled seeing her reaction.

"U-Unnie?"

"Hmm? Why are you looking scared? Did you lose your parley?"

"My what?"

"Nothing. But why are you watching basketball? I never knew you liked that sport."

Danielle yawned slightly as she sat comfortable on their couch. She awoke inadvertently by sliding out of bed while dreaming she was leaping out of a plane. Haerin's cheering was the first thing she heard, which jolted her awake. Because Haerin seldom celebrates or cheers.

"Uhhh ummm... Uhhh.."

Haerin used her normal mental lag to make it appear as if she doesn't know, while also buying time so Danielle lost interest in the issue. Knowing that she has a short attention span, Haerin used this to her advantage, making her believe she had no knowledge.

And somehow it works.

Danielle was weary of watching Haerin say nothing and stare at her like a cat. So she did what the majority of her members do, and by that she meant herself. She pounced for Haerin, cuddling her like a gigantic teddy bear, and Haerin simply accepted her faith. In her opinion, this was the ideal circumstance for getting Danielle to stop pestering her about the channel and why she would rather watch and experience the excitement and delight of basketball alone. Even if she has members who adore her like she is their own sister, Haerin was still holding back her excitement for athletics.

As Haerin glanced at the television, she spotted you being interviewed, and her normal poker face changed into a smile as she saw the team win and you being named the game's best player. Of course, given that you are the team's top player, it is unavoidable, but your accomplishments always strike a chord with her.

Because she has followed your path as well as her own, she knows the difficulties and sacrifices you have made to become who you are. In a way, she believes that whatever you achieve in the league, she achieves as well.

She felt such a strong connection to you. It was a rare occasion in which you could relate to someone. She doesn't look up to this idol, but she can connect to their experience. You can't help but support someone no matter how different you are. Haerin was in the Kpop sector, while you were in the professional sports world. Two different worlds, yet she idolized and looked up to you because she admired your narrative and couldn't help but compare it to hers.

Many others may label her clinging, insane, or too committed to a fake link that does not exist, but Haerin thought it was genuine. The instant she saw you dribble down the court in the house Kobe constructed, she knew you were the guy she would look up to.

Despite her claims that you are her idol, as a Kpop idol, she is repeatedly asked in interviews who her idol is, but she can't speak your name without recalling a sad experience. That trauma prevents her from properly revealing who she looks up to. There were several opportunities to utter your name, but when she opened her mouth, there was only stillness and heated air.

"Hmm? Basketball? You two liked watching basketball?"

A smaller girl asked them as Hanni woke up from her deep slumber. She was ready to face whatever they had today and what she didn't expect to see first thing in the morning is their TV on and set on the NBA channel.

Of course, it's not as if they don't watch sports; it's just that they don't watch them all the time. The majority of them understood what basketball was and how it was played, but none of them were big fans of the sport in general. If Hanni classified them as fans, they'd fall within the casual group. Only heard about it and saw excerpts on Twitter or Instagram.

"Hmm? Oh no It was just there when we opened the TV. Probably Manager Oppa was watching NBA replays last night before he left."

Danielle spoke on Haerin's behalf as a cover, and she smiled slightly, grateful for Danielle's reasons. It may have been a falsehood, but Haerin appreciated her efforts to cover for her.

"Ah I see. Well I'm going back to bed. Don't tell Minji thought."

And with those words stated, Hanni returned to her room to continue her nice sleep. The group did not appear to have any planned activities for the day, therefore it was a rare occurrence when they had a day off. With their notoriety, they seldom had days off, but they used them to rest. Danielle released go of Haerin's grasp and gazed at the girl before speaking.

"Okay you gotta tell me now why you like Basketball and why are you hiding it."

Haerin's eyes expand slightly, despite her customary blank expression. She didn't expect Danielle to be that tenacious about something because she typically loses interest quickly. But this time it was the opposite: Danielle wanted to know the truth behind Haerin's passion of basketball. Her curiosity couldn't be contained, and she'd do anything to find out why.

"Because I'm simply a fan of it Unnie. There's nothing too deep to talk about it so stop whatever your thinking Unnie."

Haerin's response took Danielle by suprise litterally and figuratively for 2 reasons.

 One, When Haerin said those words, Danielle noted how her brow wrinkled downwards, as if she was furious at her for asking such a question. She felt as if she had insulted her in some manner she didn't understand. All she did was ask an innocent inquiry.

Secondly, This was the first time Haerin had spoken to her in such a chilly and menacing manner. The group has been together for three years, and they recognize each other even when they close their eyes. They can readily identify who is who when given a description. Despite this, Haerin was never as frigid in her responses to any of them. Haerin's statements conveyed a hostile tone, which both scared and worried Danielle.

This was nothing the Haerin she knew about that's why she was left speechless and stunned to say anything back at her. She couldn't formulate any thoughts on how she could reply back towards her. Seeing the shocked and stunned face of Danielle, Haerin sighed a long one before standing up saying

"Sorry, I'll go somewhere for now. I'll be back before dinner Unnie."

As she rose up from her seat, she went to her room to change into a shirt and joggers, covered by a Nike jacket. She then grabbed her basketball, which was on her floor. All Danielle could do was watch Haerin depart their dorm, astonished and perplexed as to what had gotten her so defensive about the subject.

"Did I touch a sensitive topic for her? But why?"

Danielle pondered that concept as she lay flat on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling, seeking to connect the dots. And trying to find what she was seeking for.

.

.

.

"Well that's the end of our season. What's your plan Y/N?"

As the squad finished their final game of the season, everyone in the locker room had different reactions to how their season ended. Some believed they did well, while others felt they could have done more to strive for a postseason seed berth, but the odds were not against them because health was the clear asterisk for this squad. Many of their major players went on to miss over half of the season combined. You and Austin Reaves were the only two players on the club who never missed a game during the season, but it wasn't enough.

Add in dubious coaching throughout the season, and the entire roster wondered if their coach ever trusted them. Players who were doing admirably were suddenly forced to take DNPs due to an experimental roster that had never played together before. It felt like they were competing against each other because no one knew what sort of play style they all had. Everything was just a mix of terrible luck and dubious coaching that led to this team's season-ending ouster.

"I don't know. After the exit interview later, I'll either sleep or sleep."

"I get you man but how's you and that Korean chic?"

Austin's inquiry simply made matters worse for you, as the thought of the season ending tonight left a bad taste in your mouth. And now AR had to bring up the subject with you and Yunjin. Heck, the entire Lesserafim was something you had to consider.

Relationships are something you're not sure you're ready for. Although you are dating Yunjin, there are serious uncertainties about whether you actually loved her or were simply swept up in the moment. Obviously, everyone in Lesserafim was lovely and attractive in their own right, but there was something lacking. When you think back on your time with Yunjin, you notice something is lacking.

You don't know what it is but you wanted to know more about it.

"Still dating. I'm planning to head to Korea later on actually. Take a break or something. I need to clear my mind after all this Laker stress man."

AR could only laugh at you, knowing it was the wisest thing to do after this disastrous season. Your body needs to recuperate after working so hard for the team. It was sad that you accomplished so much to keep the Lakers afloat in the standings, but it wasn't enough. Your amazing comeback against Milwaukee, your 57 points against the Bulls, your clutch three-pointer against the Celtics, resulting in their sole loss of the season, and lastly, your 1,000 assists, making you the youngest to accomplish this achievement.

All of that effort went for naught, as the Lakers couldn't even get a whiff of the eighth spot beginning in February. Since then, the Lakers have fluctuated between the 10th and 12th seeds in the last week of the regular season. Obviously, the media was criticizing you for not being able to lead the club to victory, given that LeBron is retiring, AD's contract expires this offseason, which means he's gone, and this will now be your team.

But having 2 hall of famers on your roster, yet you can't win?

Stephen A. Smith and Skip Bayless will surely have a field day with your name tomorrow morning. But you just let the so called analytics talk whatever they want because that's what makes them relevant. All you can do is accept the criticism and be better for the next season.

As you ended your farewell interview, you informed the reporters that you attempted to accept responsibility for your mistakes this season and improve for the next. Although several individuals attempted to hint to the coaching problem, you just responded that some plays were supposed to work and others did not. Shading individuals is not something you do while you are still relatively new to the league. You are practically sealing your legacy at this time.

However, with the exit interview behind you, the disappointment lingers as you drive. Your mind was continually reminding you that you could have done better, but that is how it is. The season ended unexpectedly due to a variety of factors. Aside from the fact that the season ended earlier than intended, you may have also considered AR. Did you truly adore Yunjin? You didn't want to be disrespectful to Yunjin or anyone in Lesserafim since we were discussing sentiments. One false action and all may be ruined in an instant.

Checking your phone, the image of you and Yunjin glowed under the screen and somehow, the smile you used to have begin to disappear. Surely this was a normal feeling right? After all it's just a wallpaper.

"I need to see her"

.

.

.

With each stride Haerin took, the court got closer to her. Nobody in the firm, including her members, knew about this location behind their company, which was often utilized for rubbish disposal. But Haerin spotted a court with a sturdy hoop. The green patch was visible in the little gaps under the concrete floor, yet it did not upset Haerin at all.

She dribbled the ball one time before releasing a pure mid-range from 15 feet away from the basket.

Only for it to brick the basket, Haerin laughed as she missed her first shot. She waddled to catch the ball and fired it from the board for her second shot. Haerin was dressed comfortably, similar to her rehearsal attire.

As the ball swished through the net, Haerin's smile seems to get bigger and bigger at every shot she made. She was making easy shot such as Jumpers and running layup but as time goes forward, Haerin decided to intensify her shots.

As she dribbled the ball away from the basket near the 3-point line. She took one deep breath before dribbling the ball forward with her body in a propelling angle. As the ball bounces off the hard concrete ground, she crossed the ball towards her left hand and started to sprint while dribbling the ball. With the net nearing her sight, she stopped her dribble before turning her back against the net. She half shifted to the right before fully rotating to the left for a hook shot that swished through the net.

As the ball bounced off the ground she giggled as she finally done perfected one of your move. She wasn't just loving the game of basketball but she also loves the iconic moves of the NBA legends and all-star.

But despite her love of the game, she couldn't forget the painful memory that comes at the cost of enjoying basketball.

.

.

.

She was introduced to the sport at a young age by her uncle who's a crazy fan of basketball. She recalls the times she was invited to watch her uncle play the sport in some local gym. The joy and smile he had while playing the sport was what got her hooked. But as she picked up a ball, everyone suddenly started telling her that the sport isn't for her.

"Kid, you should play with barbie dolls and houses. This game isn't for you."

Those words from her uncle's teammate still haunts her to this day as they labeled her sport by her gender. As young as Haerin was, that was first true heartbreak for her because she felt helpless and devastated to hear those. And she would have just brushed those thoughts aside if it wad kids around her age but no, it was adults who told her to stop dreaming about playing basketball.

Her uncle of course defend Haerin to the point, everyone almost got into a scuffle only for the GYM owners to separate them apart. But despite the fight not continuing, the damage had already been done to her as all she can do was look down as her uncle walked her home.

"Say Haerin. Wanna shoot some mini hoops?"

"No need uncle, I'm not born to play that sport.."

Her uncle sighed as he regretted having Haerin watch her game. He didn't expect those dudes to call out a child like that who just wants to have fun. He ruffled her hair as Haerin pouted at that action. She had always hated it when her hair gets shuffled unexpectedly and this was no different.

"Uncle-"

"Tell me Haerin. Did you enjoy watching me play basketball?"

"Of course!"

"Do you want to play the sport?"

"But I'm not allowed to.."

Her uncle chuckled seeing her cute niece look down in shame. Life have always been a suprise to many and right now, Haerin thinking that Basketball is only played by one gender is false.

"Haerin-ah, Nobody should stop you from enjoying what you want. If it makes you happy, you should chase it and never look back."

"But Uncle-"

"Haerin-ah, Don't follow the crowd, my dear child. Instead, listen to your heart and create your own path. True happiness comes from within and when you stay true to yourself."

The smile that her uncle had that day showed her a bigger picture. Despite people wanting to pull you down, there will always be someone that will support you through and through. Haerin believed in the words of her uncle and stayed true to herself.

Basketball became her sport as she grew older, and her parents were very supportive of her. Despite her peers playing and growing up with gentle games, Haerin likes to dribble and shoot like Curry in their garden, envisioning her shots as game winners.

But as Middle school comes around, she was once again faced with adversity that had her scarred for life.

It was during their Physics Education period and their teacher wanted them to play sport games. Some groan some were smiling and Haerin had her poker face on, but internally, she was smiling ear to ear. As they all went to the school GYM. Haerin immediately picked up the basketball and what happened next was something she didn't expect to happen.

"Eh? Why are you picking up a basketball Haerin? Don't tell me your... Into that stuff."

As one of her classmate said that, everyone else followed to stare at her and at that exact moment, her heart began to act differently. Their eyes suddenly became so big and their shadows tower over her making her feel like she's surrounded by giants.

Her heart starts racing, beating erratically against her chest like a trapped bird desperately seeking escape. The air around her seems thick and suffocating, making every breath feel labored and shallow.

Her mind spirals into a vortex of irrational fears and negative thoughts, amplifying each sound and sensation until they become overwhelming.

A distant murmur transforms into a deafening roar in her ears, while the touch of fabric against her skin feels like prickly needles. Panic takes hold, gripping her tightly in its invisible claws, leaving her helpless and vulnerable.

Every attempt to regain control only fuels the anxiety further, creating a self-perpetuating cycle of fear and distress. It's as if her body is betraying her, turning against itself in this unexpected battle for sanity.

She couldn't handle it anymore as she dashed through the crowd, holding and closing ears from the murmurs that echoed through the area. Her heart beating so loud telling her to keep running and never look back. Tears falls off her cheeks as her eyes had uncontrollably started shedding her tears without her command.

But unlike before, She had nobody to run into.

Her uncle had died, leaving pleasant memories of Haerin to keep her sane in the harsh world they were living in. But her passing meant she'd lost her primary source of support and idol. Haerin was left alone to confront the world of misery and agony, and she was currently submitting to it all.

She couldn't handle everything on her own.

.

.

.

Haerin groaned and gazed at the ball for a few seconds before continuing to dribble away from the hoop. Since then, Haerin has kept her passion of basketball to herself, never sharing her excitement for the sport with anyone. Her parents were surprised that she wasn't sweating every day shooting hoops in the backyard, but instead watching YouTube videos in her room.

She had closed the door of enjoying the sport with others and decided that this sport is only for her to enjoy and nobody else.

It didn't matter if she would harshly push anyone who tries play basketball with her, it didn't matter if it was her own members who wanted to play with her. She would immediately decline and ignore their invitation.

dribbling the ball, Haerin shoot a long 3 pointer that sinks right into the net effortlessly. And her shot wouldn't go unnoticed.

"Nice form"

A sudden voice alerted Haerin as she flinched and froze on the spot. As the ball rolled further away from her, it stopped once it reached your foot. You kneeled down to pick up the ball and gently gave Haerin a chest pass to which she managed to barely catch. She was star struck to see you face to face with her.

"Ummm...I'm sorry to ask this but are you.. Y/N McDaniels?"

Haerin shyly asked as you laughed and nodded your head at her. Your arrival in Korea was unexpectedly faster than what you thought. The private Jet that the Lakers provided you not only drived so fast but it felt like a 10 minute ride. Technology sure is scary.

"That I am. You shooting hoops?"

"Ah yes!"

Haerin suddenly pulled her smile back immediately despite seeing you in person. But she also felt like her demeanor of playing alone changed when you arrived. It felt like she was still playing by herself and alone. She shook her head off that thought and shoot her shot, but it bricked the rim as you jumped in and grabbed the ball.

Knowing the rules, Haerin went under the basket ready for a rebound as you took the ball out and shot a wide open 3 pointer, only for it to brick as Haerin chased it down and grab it. This process continued for quite sometime with the only words exchanged between you two were "Nice one" and "My ball". Some would argue this was awkward to be in but Haerin didn't feel like it. She felt so naturally free whenever she's on the court but with someone sharing the court with her? She never thought about it until you came.

As the two of you sat down to catch your breaths, You offered Haerin an extra water bottle you had in your bag to which Haerin shyly accepted. With the two of you sitting quietly, you decided to break the ice and speak first.

"So, what's your name?"

"Vanessa Kang..or you can call me Haerin.. Sir."

You laughed at her formality with you but dismiss it since it didn't bother you one bit.

"No need to be formal Haerin. It's just us two hoopers here anyway."

"Umm...Its just your my idol and It's not easy for me to drop the honorifics."

Haerin fidgeted her fingers as she looked down. She didn't know how to act in front of her idol because, most of the time, she is the one who draws attention due to the large number of her supporters. But, right now, she's a fan and you're the idol, so the positions are reversed.

"It's fine Haerin. I'm not that old yet anyway."

"Yeah 3 years apart.."

"What?"

You blinked a couple times before staring at Haerin who's face was completely red. She just dropped an important information about you and now her identity was fully blown. Haerin gulped before turning her head to look at you with a complete red face.

"I'm guessing your a fan of mine?"

"Ummm......yes.."

Haerin soften her voice on the last part as she wasn't confident on being your fan but your sharp ears managed to hear it. You laughed full heartedly at her as she looked at you confused. Was her approach wrong that you got the wrong idea or she had something on her face?

"Sorry, Sorry I just find it cute how your being shy admitting being a fan of basketball."

"Ummm...I just don't want people to see me differently.."

Your smile slowly disappeared after hearing the words that Haerin spoke. What she said raised your curiosity as you didn't understand what she meant by it.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I just... Went through a tough time of people accepting that I like basketball more unlike other sports.."

Although you haven't heard much about her tale, her voice was enough to tell you that she went through hardship while trying to play the sport that she loved.

"Haerin, Happiness doesn't come from the words of others, it comes from the voices of your heart."

Haerin widen her eyes as your words reminded her of the words spoken by her own uncle. She looked at you as you gave her a warm smile.

"Don't let others dictate your happiness, Make it your own Haerin."

She felt her uncle's nostalgia in your words. Even if the words were altered, the message remained the same. To be joyful regardless of what others say. That was what her uncle had told her about life in general, not just hoops. She aspired to be an Idol because she enjoyed dancing to music. She wanted their music to be heard and enjoyed by their listeners.

Your comments triggered a deep memory for Haerin, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Not long later, she lost control of her tears and began weeping. You worried when you saw her break down because you didn't know what to do. You chose to softly touch her back while Haerin sobs slowly. You weren't very good at emotional scenarios like this one, and you thought it would calm her down. You didn't have your handkerchief when you really needed it.

As Haerin calmed down, she wiped the remaining tears on her eyes away before looking at you with a soft stare.

"Thanks and.. Sorry for crying out of nowhere."

"It's fine. That's okay. Maybe we can shoot hoops again to clear your mind?"

Haerin laughed at your idea, but she nodded, knowing that it would undoubtedly help her clear her mind. As the two of you proceeded to play hoops, Haerin's cat curiosity took over, and she questioned why you were here in the first place.

"Y/N, can I ask why your here in Korea?"

She said after passing you the ball in a perfect bounce pass. You chuckled at her question before releasing the shot for a 13 feet jumper.

"I'm just here to confirm something is all."

"Really? What's it about?"

"My own feelings"

Haerin widened her eyes slightly before handing the ball back to you, since this surprised her. Someone in the country seemed to have taken interest in the guy she adored. She isn't sure whether she would be joyful or sad. She may be thrilled since a celebrity like you like someone from her nation is something she should be proud of. Sadly, that wasn't her.

Haerin quickly flushed scarlet as she thought about it, because it came out of nowhere and was so strange for her to think about. Her cheeks were flaming, and her heart was beating faster as she watched you dribble the ball up to the rim. She swallowed nervously, as that unexpected notion had forever altered her perception of you.

.

.

.

Haerin had seen you around the corporate building for weeks, but as the days passed, the grin on your face faded, which bothered her. She wanted to ask you about this, but all she could do was shoot hoops with you to alleviate your concerns. But the more she learned about your position, the more she questioned if she was even suited to be around you. Your statements showing your perplexity and irritation with Yunjin make her feel like she's nothing more than a pillar of strength for you.

She doesn't mind it, but she wished she was in Yujin's position.

Even if she is your wall of support, she hoped that a small part of herself is what you are seeking for instead. Since the prospect of you entering her life, her attitude toward you has drastically altered. She found herself doing something she didn't often do, which surprised her members. When she shoots hoops with you, she wears everything from light makeup to red lipstick and blush. Minji observed this recently, and as the group's leader, she had to ask her why their beloved cat has been acting strangely lately.

"Haerin? Can we talk?"

"Oh, sure Unnie."

As Minji enters her room, she looked around her room to see nothing out of the usual. So she took her seat on the edge of her bed.

"I was just wondering, What are you doing outside? You seem to be going outside lately. Is there somewhere your visiting?"

Minji's questions didn't have any vile intentions in them but rather a voice, of a worried and curious leader. Haerin wanted to shake her head to deny her claims but your words rang through her head. She wanted to find that happiness and she knows she can't fully enjoy that happiness alone. She needed to take a step forward away from her comfort zone and see what lies beyond.

"Yeah, I have been playing basketball again."

"Really? That's so cool!"

Haerin couldn't believe it. Someone aside from her said that the sport she's doing is something amazing. She was expecting the usual reaction from her previous encounters of this confession yet this time, it was the opposite.

"Unnie, you don't find that... Weird?"

"Of course not! Why would I find you playing basketball weird. In fact I want to see you play. Oh, Maybe we can all play basketball sometimes! I can set up a date-"

Minji couldn't continue her statement because Haerin cut her off with a warm, tight embrace. For the first time in her life, Haerin felt relieved that she no longer needed to close the door. She felt less alone than she had in a long time. For the first time in a long time, she met someone who understood her.

"Unnie.."

"What’s wrong Haerin? Do you want to invite the members too? I'm sure they would love to play with you."

"No Unnie, I'm happy. I'm just happy and thank you."

Minji couldn't understand where Haerin was coming from, but with her appreciation, she could only see it as a positive thing. As Haerin continued to hug Minji, she realized she might need some help with the preadicament she was facing.

"Unnie, Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What is it Haerin-ah?"

"Umm.. Is it okay.. For a girl to like a guy.. Who's like trying to like fix their relationship that don't seem to work and, she's acting as the guy's support, but he doesn't know that the girl has developed feelings for him. Or is that wrong?"

Minji pondered on this thought as this was something she wasn't familiar with. But with her expertise in watching K-Drama on the television, she has one answer for that one.

"If that's the case, I suggest the girl to stop being the guy's support because as I see it. She's becoming a rebound for the guy. Well unintentionally that is."

When Haerin heard those words, she stopped her breath for a moment as a little pain struck her heart. Being labeled a rebound is the last thing she wanted to be termed. But when she thinks back on her time with you, she was your rock, and every tale she hears about Yunjin tears her heart apart.

That wasn't happiness for her.

Perhaps it was time to listen to her Leader's advice and be the person that she has always been. A girl who loves performing in front of her fans and enjoy playing basketball.

"Yeah, Your right Unnie. Anyway I'll be at the court now."

"Okay, Alright. Be back before dinner okay? And stay safe."

Haerin chuckled hearing the words of their eldest and leader as she identically sounded like her own mother with her tone and delivery.

"I will."

With a clear understanding of what she needed to do, she made her way to the court where she had become accustomed to meeting you. With every step seeming to be loaded with the few memories you two shared, it felt bittersweet that she was willing to let go of everything in such a short period of time. During that period, she became aware of numerous things she had previously avoided.

Being able to enjoy basketball without being bothered by others, finding satisfaction in the company of others, and generally enjoying life. Despite the brief time together, she has become connected to you, which is the terrible part. She's terrified of facing you now. She is unsure how she will deal with you after this, or if it is best to simply withdraw from your life for ever.

What Hurts more is she's letting go of her idol.

The person she looks up too.

The person she admire so much.

The person she fell in love with.

And

The person that will break her heart.

Just thinking about the night hoops you played and the late-night food tour across Seoul makes her melancholy. Haerin had become a tourist during the day and a wall of support at night. Haerin was eager to be at your side, and she couldn't remember how many times she ran to the court only to be your ear and shoulder to depend on.

As this idea occurred to her, it became more difficult for her to continue her trek towards the court since her eyes were already filled with tears for you. She had never thought that loving someone could be so difficult. She never considered the possibility of love since she never took such things seriously. She couldn't understand why her Unnies were so obsessed with romantic dramas and other aspects of love.

But now she realized, what love is.

And she got the bitter part of it.

Taking a deep breath, she continued on with her walk as she spotted you sitting on the bench watching the passing cars go by. Your presence alone makes her heart flutter and make her knees go weak. As you wave and smile at her, the heat crept it's way up her cheeks as she continued her descend on the stairs towards the court. But her eyes never left you and as soon as she took one misstep, her foot slipped and was stumbling to-

"Gotcha. You alright Haerin?"

Your buffed arms managed to catch her fragile small body as she directly stared at you with admiration and with love. Her heart raced faster than it was earlier and this was a scene straight out of the romance movies. After catching herself, she immediately pushed you away standing up by herself as her action caught you by suprise

"Haerin? Is everythin-"

"Please... Let's stop seeing each other."

As hard as it is to hear someone say that to you, Haerin is the one who is most saddened. By confessing those words, she is letting go of all the memories she has with you. But, more crucially, she is willing to let you go.

"Y/N, The last few weeks has been nothing but a blast I had with you and nothing can replace those moments with anyone. You thought me what it means to be happy once again but more importantly, you helped me realize how to enjoy basketball once again."

"Haerin.."

"I became your wall of support and ear whenever you visit Yunjin and I understand that. You and Yunjin are meant for each other and probably trying to fix the relationship you two had. I don't want to be a nuisance to both of you once you two figured it out.."

As her emotions have caught up to her words, she tried to suppress the tears that was slowly falling down her cheeks as she immediately Wipes them off. With every second passing by, her heart was being torned apart.

"You know Y/N, because of you, I enjoyed things that I usually don't do. Like applying lipsticks, using the eye liner, using lip tint, applying blush on, and wearing cute clothes. Before I'm only doing those because I'm a Kpop Idol but with you, I enjoy doing them because of you. "

"Haerin.."

"I want to say goodbye, but that would be too sad and I don't want this to be the end of us meeting. So Y/N.."

A soft breeze passed you two by as her hair danced with the air showing a long haired beautiful angel crying.

"I hope to see you again."

With those last words spoken by her, her heart has completely shattered into thousand pieces. She couldn't look you in the face or else she might breakdown completely. So turning her back around, she was ready to let you go and move forward in her life.

"Preety Kang, who said this is the end?"

You smirked as Haerin stopped on her tracks. Your voice still had a huge effect on her as you took steps closer to her. Panic began to rise all over body as she didn't know what will happen next.

"You said you were a nuisance? I called you a ball of sunshine."

"Stop it..."

"You said I showed you happiness? How can you be so sure when YOU'RE my happiness."

"Please.. Stop.."

"All my life, I have watched opportunities slip by my hands. And Days I spent with you were the opportunities I didn't slip by. Because of you, I learned who I am."

"Y/N..."

"Kang Haerin. I'm not letting you go anymore. My heart beats for you and only you. If your not ready now, I'll wait and I'll keep waiting until our paths cross again. Because if Love didn't happen, I wouldn't have met you."

"......"

"Kang Haerin, The girl I love is you."

Haerin had never twirled so fast her life as she spinned back towards you and jumping into your body as you catches her. Her tears couldn't be controlled anymore as she cried her heart out not out of sadness this time. But in happiness.

"Y/N!!"

"I'm here Haerin. I'm here."

As you stroked her hair, Haerin buried her face in your chest, weeping gently as she heard your heart's lovely rhythm. She couldn't believe her modest wish had come true. For you, the decision was not simple. The way you went to korea hoping to connect with Yunjin failed. You tried your best to make your heart beat for her but despite the efforts, Haerin was the one chiming your heart.

Every time you go closer to Yunjin, your mind only sees one cat, which was unjust to Yunjin. You had to tell her the truth, but Yunjin was the first person to say farewell to you. She knew the minute you first dated her, your heart couldn't hold her. No matter how hard she tried, she could see straight through you, and when she saw you smiling genuienly, she knew someone had already stolen your heart.

And she didn't want your friendship to be broken due to one-sided passion. As terrible as it is for her, she genuinely loved you and chose your happiness above her own. She understood that love needs sacrifices, and she was prepared to make the biggest sacrifice of her own love for your love story.

You shed your own share of tears as Yunjin said her farewell to you because despite not fully loving her, a part of your heart truly did loved her genuienly and honestly. It felt heart breaking despite not truly loving her. It confuses you but with one door closes, another one opens.

As you looked at your lock screen, the picture of you and Yunjin was difficult to remove. But, knowing that you and Yunjin had failed, you pinned all of your hopes on one girl. The girl who has been with you since your arrival and is the only one who has remained in your head and heart.

Haerin, your constant companion and supporter during your time in Korea. Her temperament and beauty are too appealing not to notice her. Not only that, but she keeps you smiling and understands how to connect with you. She was everything you didn't realize you needed. You still recall the day your heart sang for her. When you were rushing away from a paparazzi at night, her warm little hands entwined around yours, and her charming grin brightened the darkness. At that same moment, you knew your heart was pounding for Kang Haerin rather than Huh Yunjin.

You were so stupid because you figured it out too late and today was suppose to be day you told her everything but it seems Haerin was the first one to beat you too it.

"Do you mean it?"

Haerin gazed up to meet your gaze, her cat-like eyes looking more lovely than ever. You nodded, stroked her hair, and returned to burying her face on your chest. Her behaviors made you laugh because they were so charming.

"I love you Y/N.."

She backed away, sneaking a quick kiss on your cheeks before whispering gently. Thinking you hadn't heard her, you bent down to kiss her forehead, making her blush even more.

"I love you too, My Laker Star Haerin. Hehe~"

You smiled wholeheartedly at her, just like Haerin did, despite her cheeks going red. Both of you were experiencing the joys of love as fate brought your hearts together.

As Yunjin looked down at the building's glass windows, she watched the guy she genuinely loved embracing a girl he deserved. Her heart ached to see you with someone else, but she knew you were the one known as "Right Person, Wrong Time." She smiled sadly as she shed one final tear staring at you.

"I hope you treat him right Haerin. Because he was once My Laker Star too."

.

.

.

[lighteyed]

it's no big surprise you turned out this way

steve harrington x fem mayfield!reader

[3.7k] steve comes over for family dinner. it is absolutely not your idea.

disclaimer- no mention of blood relation to max, no physical descriptors of reader, they are sisters in any way you want them to be. trigger warning for shitty parents and billy h*rgrove. this is not a billy safe space.

dividers by @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

thanks for reading if you do <3 enjoy teehee

You drop a kiss on Steve’s head in greeting, which he accepts with a thrilled, in-a-new-relationship, glowing smile, before dropping down beside him and subsequently dropping your news, or rather, your request that’s not really your request, on him. “Neil wants you to come over for dinner.” You tense at the utterance of your stepfather’s name, even if it’s your own mouth doing the uttering.

   His smile dissipates. Only a little, but enough for you to wring your hands together. You want to scoop all the words you’d just said back out from his ears and spoon them into your mouth again. Make him forget it’d ever happened. “Like, like family dinner?” He asks. He can’t fathom a world where he sits placid across the table from Billy Hargrove and passes him the salt respectably and doesn’t end the night with his fist colliding with his face (regardless of the outcome).

   “No, it’d just be you and him, he’s dying to take you out on a date,” you deadpan in response, shaking your head. Steve rolls his eyes, no malice intended. “Obviously family dinner, Steve. You, me, Max, my mom, Neil… Billy.” You force out the final name. He swears he hears your teeth grinding as you say it.

   “Don’t get grouchy on me.” He reaches over and smooths out the upset crease between your brows. Your shoulders relax in response. You’re always so wound up he’s made it his mission to give you that ease he knows you crave. He’s quite good at it, on days where he can steal you away and keep your mind occupied with the lovelier things in life. But there are some things he can’t spare you from, as much as he tries.

   Really, he can only keep you out of that house for so long before your family starts demanding their 17-year-old back.

   For the most part you keep away. Max roams the new mall all day with her friends now that June’s here and summer’s entered Hawkins in full swing, and you drive them there with your mom’s car if she doesn’t need it for the day, or Steve drives you all there and then home again if he’s not at work already that morning. If he has work you loiter in Scoops the entire day, lugging a stack of books acquired from the library and settling in a corner booth, popping your head up once in awhile to check on him and his misery in his new position in that ridiculous uniform. You brighten his days just as much as he brightens yours. And he really, really does. (And you like the uniform, as silly as it is, for the record).

   “’M not grumpy,” you deflate, pressing your forehead into his shoulder. He rubs your back in a nice, soothing way when you lean into him. Ever since he asked you out he’s been taking every excuse to touch you and you’re not complaining in the slightest. He has the softest hands you’ve ever held and they’re perpetually gentle and kind. All the love in the world encased in the hands of some boy from Hawkins, Indiana, a place you never expected to find a home in, let alone find a boy. The boy, if you thought about it long enough. Early days to be thinking about it but you did think about it. Often. For hours. You sigh quietly. “I can tell ‘em you’re busy, you don’t have to come.”  

   “Max knows I’m not busy,” he points out.

   “She doesn’t wanna be there, either. Look, I’ll just say you can’t come-“

   “But I can.”

    You lift back up, wary, but hopeful. A new flower poking its petals up from the earth, tilting right toward the sun.  “I don’t wanna make you miserable.”

   “That’s stupid,” he scoffs. He kisses your head this time, the perfumy scent of your shampoo fogging his brain up in a nice, lovey haze. “How could you make me miserable? You’re like, the best thing I’ve ever had, by a mile.”

   You smile in spite of your gloomy mood. “The fuckin’ Hargroves have an innate knack for misery.”

    “It’s a good thing you’re not a Hargrove then, hm, Mayfield?” He brushes your hair away from your face and  takes your chin in his hand, angling your face up properly to meet his, and he kisses you like he well and truly means it, firm and adoring. You can feel his grin seared into your mouth when you pull away, in spite of your reluctance and Steve’s attempts to pull you back in.

   . “You really wanna come? It won’t be fun. It’ll probably be shitty, actually.” You ask him in a tiny, hesitant voice, too overcompensating to someone who do anything you asked of him. Having Steve there sounds better than not having him there, and better than having to explain why he’s chosen not to come, but you know it’ll be weird. Worse than weird. After what happened back in November, him and Billy go out of their way to ignore one another, and it’s so deliberate it sucks the air out of a room. And even with that, Billy still makes it a point to direct snide remarks to you about Steve every chance he gets: alone, in front of Max, in front of your parents, in front of Steve himself while pretending he’s not there. And it’s gotten worse since you admitted to your mother in confidence that you and Steve were together now, and she told Neil, and Neil told Billy. But there’s no running from being at the same dinner table as him. You know you’re asking a lot. You wouldn’t be asking if Neil hadn’t insisted. In a loud, pointed voice, with a stare that unnerved you. You’d agreed to it hurriedly after that.

   “Well,” Steve leans back, playful, “want to is a bit of a stretch but I can make an exception for ya-“

   “Steve-“ you groan, pushing his chest, but he laughs, pushing himself back forward, smacking another loud kiss on your mouth.

   “Kidding, I’m kidding, c’mere,” his fingers grip your waist feather-light, tickling, as he laughs, and you can’t help but laugh too through your head shakes and faux-exasperated sighs.

  “I’m really asking you if you want to, I know it’s a lot asking you to make nice with Billy.” You interlace your fingers with his and he places them on your lap, all big brown eyes blinking up at you affectionately. You’re a sucker for his eyes. You can tell what he’s going to say before he says it.

   “Nothin’s too much for you,” he says in his sweet, low voice, another kiss pressed to your cheek, his stamp of agreeance left blazing there on your cheek.

   Late into the next day he arrives on 4819 Cherry Lane, as he has so many times before, but he parks right in front and gets out this time. He doesn’t sit by the wheel waiting for you to come running out, sometimes with Max in toe, usually by yourself, breathless and beaming, ready for him to whisk you away as fast as he can without breaking a million laws. He knows it’s not the gentlemanly thing to do, having a girl come to the car by herself instead of going up and ringing her bell, and normally he would, but you insisted he didn’t, not wanting to draw attention to yourself or him, and you were already waiting outside on the front steps when he got there most of the time, anyway.

   And this time, too, you get the door before he can ring the bell, almost ripping it off the hinges when you throw it open to greet him.

   “Thank God,” you mutter. You go to take his hand but remembers yours is sweaty and pull back. The sweater you’re wearing is pretty, complements your eyes and complexion and your everything, and your hair is down and soft-looking. He’d run his hands through it in other circumstances. “It’s not too late to make a break for it,” you lead him into the house quietly, throwing your head back and casting a dark look down the hallway. “Just say the words and we can flee, I won’t blame you.” He’s dressed so nicely, and you don’t even have the time to properly admire him. He did his hair all perfect (he always does but you can tell he put a little extra sparkle into it tonight), he’s in his nicest jeans that mold against his legs slim and fit, his sweater is a navy blue and it’s such a good color on him you might cry. You can see effort written in everything he does, tonight especially. His desire to make a good impression rings in your heart. You want to regard him warmly and turn your gaze on him with the utmost veneration but your skin buzzes with anxiety and it feels like one large, domineering fist is clamped around your intestines. 

   “It’ll be fine,” he says, squeezing your hand. He doesn’t even notice that it’s sweaty, though your anxiety is palpable and he amps up his happy exterior to balance you out. He’s probably just as nervous as you are, deep down. “Parents love me.” It’s an insistent sentence. “And I’m gonna turn on my charm.” He makes a clicking sound with his mouth and snaps his fingers around a little. You stare at him, blank. Neil is rumbling around somewhere in the distance and for the time being you are utterly immune to Steve’s banter.

   Not completely, but enough. “I don’t know if that’s the kinda charm we need here,” you pat his shoulder.

   “But it can’t hurt,” he points out with a raised eyebrow, pointing a finger gun at you.

   “Oh, it can hurt alright.” You steer him into the living room anyway. “Steve is here.”

   You announce it to the open air, waiting to see who comes when you call. Your mom, immediately, rushes out of the kitchen to greet him. She’s never met one of your boyfriends before. Her greeting is enthusiastic, to say the least. And she’s a hugger. It’s nice, actually, Steve thinks, no matter how embarrassed and nervous you are, to be embraced kindly by a mother. It’s familiar, like some distant dream from a faraway past. You have your qualms with Susan, he knows that, but he knows you love her hard, and that’s why you take so much issue with the way she lets herself be treated. It’s difficult to watch you grapple with all of this, all of the time.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Steve, or Steven? Whatever you want,” she rubs his back as she takes him into the kitchen alongside you.

   “Steve is great, thank you, Mrs. May-“ he clears his throat, “Mrs. Hargrove, I mean.“ It’s hard to reconcile this woman in front of him with the domineering men bearing that same last name. It’s hard to distinguish her as anything but another piece of you and Max. A good piece.

   “The girls talk about you all the time,” Susan says, still smiling.

   “I do not,” Max huffs as she comes out of her room, abashed. She’s in a nice outfit, too. Not as dressed down as she usually is. She tugs at her tied back hair like it hurts.

   “Ma, how tight did you do her hair?” You ask, beckoning Max over.

   “It pops out of every scrunchie!” Susan says, patting her on the head with such clear affection it makes Steve ache a little.

   “Maxie.” You open your arms for her. She stands in front of you obediently as you loosen the hold her hair ties have on her unruly locks, smoothing them out nicely as you tie it back up again, looser.

    Everything’s so nice and homey that the shift in the atmosphere is almost imperceptible when a door creaks open a bit away from you four. But it’s there. He sees you draw back into yourself, your smile, at him talking to your mom and being so sweet, at Max, at the normalcy of this moment, sliding right off your face as Neil walks into the room. You’d almost forgotten him. You could’ve stayed in a bubble with your mom and sister and beautiful boyfriend forever. But Neil comes out from the hallway, from Billy’s bedroom, and Billy follows behind, fully clothed for once, his shirt buttoned all the way up his chest, his expression dark and cloudy. His jaw is tight as his gaze fixes on Steve.

   But Steve, so gracious, sticks his hand out to shake Neil’s, smiling like Neil’s spawn isn’t the worst person Steve’s ever encountered as he introduces himself. “Nice to meet you, sir. Steve Harrington.” He keeps his mouth upturned sweet and polite even when Billy snorts in the background. He doesn’t even look in his direction.

    “Nice to meet you, too, Steven.” Neil’s handshake is more like a clenched fist. You stare at their clasped hands like you want to commit murder. Steven.

   “Steve, not Steven,” you mutter. Max touches your arm in warning before Steve can. You can’t help it. If there’s anyone you’re defensive over besides her, it’s him.

   “Steven’s fine,” he chimes in, keeping that same old good-natured Steve smile on his face. He’s too appeasing and Neil has never deserved it. He rolls his shoulders back and talks to himself in his head. Just one night. For her, for her, for her.

  “It’s the name your parents gave you, of course it’s fine,” Neil claps him on the back, and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it but you and Steve both flinch. From the words and the tap alike. Neil ignores your remark completely as he continues to talk to Steve in a way that makes your skin crawl. He brings Steve over to the dining room table and the rest of you follow suit, settling in around each other. You make sure you sit next to Steve, but you second-guess it when Billy takes the straight across from him. Neil drones on. “Y’know, it’s interesting how all this time, you’ve been driving the girls around for months now, but this is the first time we’re meeting.”

    Steve checks on you out of the corner of his eye. Your jaw ticks. He squeezes your knee but before he can answer, you do it for him. “He’s been busy, that’s all.”

Neil looks toward you. For once. It is not a pleasant look. “For months?” He tucks his hands under his chin.

   “I know you don’t like having strangers in the house after you work,” you say, placating in a way that turns your stomach.

   “That’s true,” Neil says. “Billy doesn’t seem to get the memo on that, so I’m glad someone in this house is paying attention.” The degradation of Billy at the dinner table is nothing new. And you feel bad about it. You’d feel worse if he wasn’t so nasty and hateful to everyone because of it. Neil had run into Billy’s latest flavor, Miranda Brady from your Calculus class, while she was rummaging through the fridge the other night, and he hadn’t been happy. He was polite to her until she’d been hurried out the door by Billy, and then he’d reamed into him in colorful, awful ways. Max and Susan both hadn’t been home, but it was one of those nights where you had been, and you’d lingered by your bedroom door awkwardly, making sure it didn’t get too out of hand. You weren’t sure either of them even knew you were there. Accepting the praise seems wrong. You nod stiffly.

  Billy, however, turns his gaze on Steve, the first acknowledgement he’s gotten in months. “Say, Harrington, you used to be quite the ladies’ man yourself, yeah?” A sick grin creeps up on his face. Steve sees your hand tighten around your fork. You’ve barely shoveled your pasta into your mouth. Max gapes at her stepbrother, her mouth still full of food.

   Steve clears his throat. “I had a steady girlfriend for about a year, actually. I’m sure you remember that.”

   “Yeah, but I mean,” Billy rocks his chair back. “That’s not what they were calling you King Steve for, is it?”

   You lurch forward. Steve drops his hand over your knee again. “I think it was because of the whole captain of the basketball team thing. Or the captain of the swim team thing, I can’t remember when it started. Youngest captain the Tigers had seen in a decade, actually, when I got it sophomore year.” Steve grins again and the cocky charm he possesses but hardly uses much anymore comes out to play, just for a bit. You settle down again. You eat what’s in front of you, calmly. You hear Max gulp down her own food across the table. It’s almost cartoonish.

  “Max, chew first,” Susan admonishes gently.

   “I am,” she retorts, but she’s inhaling everything in front of her.

    Billy  cuts in. “See, that’s interesting, I thought it was because you hooked up with a lot of girls. Like half the class.”

   Steve doesn’t even blink. He takes a sip of his water. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

  “Are you trying to upset your sister?” Neil asks him with raised eyebrows.

  He goes quiet again, hardened. “No.”

  “It seems like you’re trying to.”

   His jaw ticks this time. “I’m not.”

   “Do you remember what I said to you? About a half hour ago?”

   His jaw ticks again. His eyes meet Steve’s over the table. Steve feels the merest twitch of embarrassment for him. He knows all too well what it’s like to have a dad who takes a weird sort of pleasure in berating his son. “Yes, I remember.”

   You stare down at your plate, pinching the skin of your palm.

   “If you remember so well, then you should stop talking.”

   Billy stops talking. Neil turns to Steve again. “So, captain of two athletic teams, that’s impressive. I’m sure your college plans are impressive as well.”

   Steve stutters in his answer and you hold your head aloft in your hands, suppressing a groan. Max finishes her food so fast, she’s excused from the table and gone within minutes of that conversation starting. You nearly fall out of your chair in your attempt to kick her shin under the table. She holds her hands up in her retreat while nobody’s looking, mouthing that she’s sorry at you and running away into your shared bedroom. You suppress a groan again.

   Outside, after another grueling hour of Neil dominating the conversation and making dinner unenjoyable for everyone, you walk Steve to his car, fiddling with your hands again. He props himself up against his window and wrestles you out of the knot you’re in.

  “That sucked, I’m sorry,” you say, knocking your foreheads together, your mouth drawn in a thin, perturbed line.

  “It was fine, you’re fine,” he whispers the last bit. That’s what you’re more worried about, after all. You’re worried he’s mad, planning to leave you for someone with a more normal family, people who are warmer, someone capable of being warmer. You’re plenty warm around him, but you suppose you could be better. You start running over all the things you could do better and all the ways he could do better in your head. “Stop thinkin’ so much. Everything’s okay.” He nudges your foot with his.

   “No, I know, it’s just, it’s awkward, it’s not fun, shitty way to spend your night, shitty way for anyone to spend a night.”

   “It’s okay. It was good. I was good, wasn’t I?” He kisses your palm where you’d pinched it earlier.

   “You were great, you’re always great.” You stroke his cheek, lingering on his lips for a second. “You look really nice, by the way.” You’d almost forgotten to tell him. “I like this color on you.” You smooth over and down his arms.

   “Yeah?” He grins, lopsided, tilting his head.

   “Looks good with your hair.” You reach up to tug on the strand that hangs down like an art form over his forehead. You’re the only one he lets play around about his hair.

   “You look beautiful, too, for the record.”

   “I was trying to make this about you.” You poke him.

   “I like when things are about you.” He pokes you back.

   “I hate when things are about me.”

   “Yeah, I’m trying to fix that.”

   You chuckle. “Good luck.”

   He gestures back to your house. “I’m makin’ progress here. I think I get you a little bit better now, after all that.”

  “And what exactly do you get?” You wrap your arms around his waist.

  “Why you’re always so tense and grumpy.” He cups your cheeks like he’s holding the most delicate thing ever to be held.

   “I’m not grumpy-“

   “Just tense, then.”

   You accept that, begrudgingly. “I’m pretty on edge most of the time, I guess.”

   “I try to talk you out of it,” he says softly, stroking your face.

   “You’re the best, I hope you know that.”

   “I try,” he says again, and you nod. “It’s not easy. Night after night.”

   “It’s not.” You bunch up his sweater.

   “I get it, you know? They’re not here as often as yours, but I get it.”

   “Dinner with yours next time?”  

   “Yeah fucking right.” He kisses you for it, though, because you mean it, you’d have dinner with them if he asked just like he did because you asked, a long and languid kiss that he hopes no one’s shifting around the curtains to be privy to. He withdraws first and says, “Your mom is sweet, I’d have dinner with her again.”

  “I’ll let you know when she’s free, take her out, show her a good time,” you tease.

    “If she’s anything like you I’m a goner,” he laments.

    “You’re a flirt, is what you are.”

     You kiss him again, beaming, heart swollen with affection.

    When you go back inside and Susan tells you how wonderful and handsome she thought Steve was, how good he seemed for you, that rush flows through you all over again. You even bring her in for a hug.

thank u for reading ur super hot n sexy n we're kissing rn

[mcflymemes]

INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE (1989) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i hate these guys.

this is a new experience for me.

it happens to me all the time.

you lost today, [name]. but that doesn't mean you have to like it.

may we go home now, please?

i've got a lot of fond memories of that dog.

he sticks out like a sore thumb. we'll find him.

does anyone here speak english?

what are you hiding?

archaeology is the search for fact, not truth.

forget any ideas you've got about lost cities, exotic travel, and digging up the world.

we do not follow maps to buried treasure, and "x" never... ever marks the spot.

70% of all archaeology is done in the library. researching. reading.

we cannot afford to take mythology at face value.

help me get us out of here.

are you kidding? i made all that up.

she talks in her sleep.

try not to talk.

give me your other hand. i can't hold on.

i can get it. i can almost reach it.

[name], let it go.

those people are trying to kill us.

i didn't know you could fly a plane.

our situation has not improved.

i'm as human as the next man.

i'm like a bad penny, i always turn up.

throw down the gun or the girl will die.

no! don't shoot!

please do what he says!

[name], what are you doing here?

head for the fireplace!

why are you sitting there resting when we're so near the end?

don't look at me like that.

i would have done anything to get it. you would have done the same.

i'm sorry you think so.

i'll never forgive myself.

thank god... it's fake.

look, can we discuss this later?

i came here to save you!

look what you did! i can't believe what you did!

i'll never forget how wonderful it was.

you have chosen wisely.

did you intend to leave us standing on the doorstep all day?

now look, i've gone and caught a sniffle.

don't take that tone with me!

this is the second time i've had to reclaim my property from you.

that belongs in a museum.

why are you trying to kill us?

my soul is prepared. how's yours?

what have you brought?

i'm sorry about your head. i thought that you were one of them.

you came back for the book?

is that what you think of me?

who gives a damn what you believe?

follow me. i know the way.

i find that if i just sit down to think... the solution presents itself.

in this sort of race, there's no silver medal for finishing second.

we didn't talk. we've never talked.

what are you complaining about?

you could go down in history.

you're going the wrong way.

the pen is mightier than the sword.

are you crazy? don't go between them!

my reputation preceeds me.

it would make me very happy.

shooting me won't get you anywhere.

we're well out of range.

you call this archaeology?

we are on the verge of completing a quest that began almost two thousand years ago.

we're just one step away.

since i've met you, i've nearly been incinerated, drowned, shot at, and chopped into fish bait.

we're caught in the middle of something sinister here.

you're a great deal like your father.

how dare you kiss me.

leave me alone. i don't like fast women.

you say this has been just another typical day for you, huh?

you're meddling with powers you can't possibly comprehend.

if only i could have been there with you.

[munsonthings86]

we've been celestial even before this

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after she has a particularly rough day, steve takes his girl stargazing

warnings: cursing, fluff, soft!steve, established relationship (but still fairly new), oversimplified summary, reader depicted to be nineteen, these two being the biggest lovesick idiots for each other

an: i've been having a lot of fun writing about these two. they own my entire heart. hope you guys enjoy this one * don't copy my work *

wc: 6.1k

steve and sunshine's timeline

The trembling flame of the Coffee House scented candle illuminated your messy bedroom in a flickering, warm, honey light. The smell of the candle resembled nothing of coffee, more like hot cocoa or caramel you thought, but it did its job of calming your rattled nerves, nonetheless. Most of your wooden floor was hidden beneath neglected pieces of clothing that you'd pulled from your closet in a hopeless attempt to string together a decent outfit that morning. I'll tidy up tomorrow, you shrugged, though knowing you, there was a high possibility that "tomorrow" would turn into next week.

Procrastination was a terrible habit of yours, and the tension that the day left you with was doing very little to diminish it. Your early morning shift at Family Video was borderline torturous; Keith saw to that when he scheduled you sans Steve and Robin and had two inept new hires shadow you. Sure they were nice and all, from what you can recall anyway, but you were too out of it to bestow on them the patience you typically had.

Once the stint came to its much desired end, a dreadful date at the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles awaited you. In your venture to become more of an independent and responsible "adult" (being merely nineteen, the word made your blood run cold), the goal of obtaining your permit was set in stone. The written test was passed with flying colors, but like any classic BMV nightmare, you'd forgotten a required document to actually get the damn permit.

Nearly plunging to your knees, you begged the grumpy old woman behind the counter to let you run back to your apartment that was “just down the street”. Truthfully, it was a thirty minute trip on foot, but she didn't need to know that. If you ran, you could make it back in twenty.

But, again, like any classic BMV nightmare, all she left you with was a hardly sympathetic, "Sorry ma'am, but if you don't have all the required documents, I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow. The office closes in fifteen minutes." Through clenched teeth, you thanked her for her time, though she neglected to return the gesture, squawking "Next in line!" in a tone that was poles apart from her customer service voice.

Mercifully, your day wasn't all terrible. On the way back home, you stopped by the library to return a week's long overdue book and, instead of crucifying you for it, the lovely librarian recommended a novel she thought you'd appreciate. Rose in Splendor by Laura Parker. Unbeknownst to her, you'd been dying to read it ever since it was published last year. The grouch over at the BMV could definitely take a page out of her book. No pun intended.

Curled into bed and tucked under your beloved ivory crotched blanket, you thumbed along the pages through gravelly, blurry eyes. You kept promising yourself "one more page", but that was well over ten pages ago.

The male love interest was recounted having perfectly tousled brown hair with a body to die for, and you couldn't help but to think of your Steve. You missed him terribly in that moment and the one thing that kept your woe at bay was the anticipation of you two's nightly phone call. It was the selling point of all your days spent without him, truth be told.

The chime of the landline in the hallway between your kitchen and bedroom pierced through the otherwise silence of your apartment, prompting you to glance at the clock on your wall. 9:32 p.m.

Speak of the devil.

Folding a little doggy ear onto the page to preserve your place, the blanket keeping your legs warm was tossed among your strewn out clothes as you nearly slipped, scurrying to answer the phone. You couldn't bite back your smile as you pressed the receiving end against your ear, hearing the music that was Steve's voice, fill your mind.

"Hi, sunshine."

A breath that was unknowingly caged, freed itself at the sound. "You're nearly on time," you teased, referring to earlier today when Steve promised to call you at 9:30 sharp tonight. Usually, he called you earlier than this, but he was jammed with babysitting duties for the six kids you were considering adopting for yourself at this point.

"I know, I'm sorry," he chuckled. "They finally fixed that game at the arcade that's been down for the past few weeks. Gaga, I think it's called."

"Galaga," you corrected, giggling to yourself. It wasn't a rare occurrence whenever the kids would drag you along on one of their many hangouts, so you were rather well-versed in their nerdy recreations. "Yeah, that's the one. I could barely pry their grubby little hands off the thing. Especially Dustin."

Based on his tone, the roll of Steve's eyes as he spoke was nearly audible. As much as he complained about constantly having to be the one to look after the party, there was a part of him that covertly loved the fact that they depended on him so much. Not only was it somewhat of an ego boost, but he's always dreamed of having little nuggets of his own to protect and guide and treasure.

The daydream of Steve being the ideal father, unlike his own dad ever was, reeled your bottom lip between your teeth as the cord of the landline fell into the trap of your twirling fingers. It was so vivid; a shirtless Steve wearing blue jeans that hugged his bottom so perfectly, driving a rackety lawn mower along the wild grass of the front yard to the house you may or may not have pictured the pair of you living in.

In that utopia, the children that you may or may not have pictured parenting with Steve, sat behind the lemonade stand that was built by their father, giggling and toying with a leaky hose as they awaited customers. You'd be watching your little family from the boxy window of the kitchen, fixing them an afternoon snack, unable to contain your laugh when the hose goes haywire, soaking your lover from head to toe.

The imagery made you giggle out loud, head falling against the wall as your stomach cramped. "What?" Steve asked, laughing along with you though it's purely out of instinct, because of course he didn't know what you were laughing about. But hearing your audible delight was contagious. He couldn't help it.

"It's nothing," you assured, smiling softly before continuing, "just hoping your day was better than mine was."

"Well I don't like the sound of that," he frowned, sneakers squeaking against his floor as he shifted his weight onto his other leg. He watched as the days worth of dirt that'd found solace on his shoes, abandon patterned scuffs on the wood. Memories of the pointed sound of his mothers voice demanding no shoes in the house rang through his head like a siren at the sight. He would've ditched his footwear at the door, but he knew he was running late for his phone date.

"What happened?"

Commencing your response with a weary sigh, you shrugged, laughing dryly, "A lot. It's not even funny how exhausted I am right now."

Steve's chest tightened. He hated when you had a bad day; it left a bad taste in his mouth. Even worse, whenever Steve would make an effort to get to the bottom of what ailed his girl, he had a less than impressive success rate, seeing as vulnerability was one of your shortcomings. Steve knew better than to pry. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to do his damnedest to make these final hours of the day your best.

"I'm sorry to hear that, honey," he lowered his head, offering a comforting smile that though you couldn't see, you could hear in his voice. "'S alright," he heard you murmur.

It fell silent for a beat before Steve inquired, "When are you comin' home?", to which you furrowed your eyebrows, letting out a confused chuckle. "Uh, I am home."

Jokingly, the boy scanned his apartment and though he saw some of your forgotten belongings from previous visits, he couldn't seem to pinpoint you. "That's weird, I don't see ya. You hiding somewhere?"

The laugh that erupts from your core at your sappy boyfriend is inescapable. Your shoulders quake as you snicker and Steve's never heard a sound so sweet. Mission accomplished. For now, anyway. "You're an idiot."

"For you, yeah," he retorts, "thought we already established that." The apples of your cheeks are growing sore as Steve's honeyed words denies your smile the chance to falter. Any inconvenience that was precedent to this very moment was long forgotten by virtue of the prince charming that was your boyfriend.

"I'll come see you soon, lover boy," you quipped.

"You makin' fun of me?" He was completely unoffended. Prior to the few weeks of you dating, Steve spent the better part of the past decade containing his cascading love for you behind the dire dam of the friendzone. Despite delay, the dam was broken and there was no playing "Mr. Cool Guy". Steve was crazy about you. And he'd be even crazier to not show it.

"I wouldn't be me if I didn't," you teased. "I'm gonna head to bed, though. I have another shift in the mornin'. That damn Keith," you rolled your eyes, groaning as Steve laughed through his nose.

"Alright, sunshine, I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," you glowed. "G'night, Stevie." You waited for him to respond with a "goodnight" of his own before returning the phone back to its base, already pining for your boyfriend's presence again. Though you poked fun at it, what Steve said about you not being "home" wasn't just him being sappy. You were feeling the same way.

No matter where you were, whether it was school, work, the arcade, shit, you could be in the Upside Down, but as long as Steve was there, you felt at home. It made you reflect on the times where you'd be lying in bed, unable to slip into a slumber as you couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to go home, though geographically, that's exactly where you were. It was because you missed Steve. And any place where he was absent, was no home of yours.

Sauntering back into your bedroom and kicking away garments to clear a path, you cocooned your body into the blanket that was now stained with the scent of your burning candle, and continued from where you left off in your book. You figured you'd make some decent progress to hopefully avoid another late fee at the library.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It'd been forty minutes later, give or take, when you stood on sore legs, cleansing and moisturizing your face before calling it a night. Your dull eyes wore dark and heavy circles like a hideous skirt, a clear manifestation of the fatigue you were weathering. You rubbed at them unkindly with the hopes of looking even a little more lively, but to no avail.

The bulb of the bathroom went out like a flame once you flicked the switch off, and you abandoned the journey back to your room at the sound of a series of knocks to the front door. Clasping the opening of your robe with shaky hands, you wondered who could be here at this hour. You weren't expecting any visitors. Approaching the door with hushed footsteps, a miniscule view of none other than Steve Harrington could be seen through the peephole of your door.

The tension in your shoulders dissipated, ribs doing their best to cage your fluttering heart. You squealed, fingers fumbling with the lock and you could swear the metal thing had something against you, the way it stalled to unlatch. Steve smiled from the other side of the door as he watched the knob twist and jangle, warmed to know that you were just as eager to see him as he was to see you.

The brown lettering that labeled the white entryway '2F' swung out of view and Steve made eye contact with you for a split second before stumbling back a bit when you threw yourself into him.

Elevating yourself with the tips of your toes to reach him, you trapped his neck between your arms as he returned your hug with one arm, the other remaining properly tucked behind his back. "Hello to you too," he laughed breathlessly before briefly stamping a kiss to your shoulder.

"What're you doing here?" you buzzed, pressing little pecks to as much of his dotted skin as you could. You were suddenly a ball of energy. Finally at home. "When you said later, I thought you meant, like, tomorrow or something."

"Well, I missed you," a kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Wanted to come see ya."

The smile he wore carved thin lines into his cheeks as he spoke, walking your tangled bodies back into the quietude of your apartment. He stopped at your cutesy welcome mat, kicking his shoes off before revealing his arm that held a bouquet of just about the prettiest flowers you'd ever seen.

"Steve," you pouted, releasing your hold on his shoulders, "they're gorgeous." Cradling the peach hued roses dressed in a newspaper-style wrapping paper, your eyebrows scrunched together as you reminded yourself of the time. "What florist is open at 10 p.m.?"

The boy chuckled, locking the door behind him. The plaid pajama pants he wore swung loosely on his legs as he approached you. "There isn't," he ran fingers through his disheveled hair that was long overdue for a trim, "I saw them while I was out with the kids and I thought of you, so I got 'em." He shrugged like it was nothing.

"I was gonna surprise you with them at work tomorrow, but I figured I'd just give 'em to you now, ya' know, all things considered."

Heat rushed to your chest and face as you ogled him, filled with an overwhelming sense of luck to be his. Your feelings toward him felt so immense that at times, you could barely articulate yourself. Words of love and adoration raced through your mind a million miles a second yet you always found yourself terribly speechless.

Steve was so open with his affection for you. It’s a love people pray to experience at least once in their lifetime. And what a heaven-sent gift it was to earn that kind of love from Steve.

These would look perfect by the living room, you thought, turning to the kitchen to retrieve a vase after slipping him a fleeting kiss.

Scouring the white cabinets, you almost failed to remember that you didn't particularly own a vase, given the fact that you'd never actually received flowers before. The realization dejected you a bit.

Steve trailed behind you mindlessly, a frown weighing on his lips as he watched your shoulders droop. Leaning against the space on the counter next to you, he slid down a little, leveling with you, "What's wrong, honey?"

A mumbled, "I've never gotten flowers before," left a pang in his chest, your eyes never leaving the shelves of your cluttered cupboard. "Never needed a vase before."

It was now Steve's turn to slump his shoulders while he gazed at you with sad eyes. How could someone so lovely, so divine as you, not be treated the way you deserved? He would buy you flowers every day if you wanted and he had to bite his tongue when he almost cursed himself for not doing it already. But it's okay. He was here now.

Luring your waist into his body with those burly hands of his, he spoke with assurance laced in his voice, "Well, that's okay," he cooed. "Here, use one of these for now," he pulled a mug that you would've otherwise had trouble reaching, as it sat on the very top shelf, "and tomorrow we'll pick out a nice pretty vase for ya'."

Filling the black cup with water, he planted the roses down as neatly as he could. The flowers sat in the mug awkwardly, all splayed out with the stems way too long for your liking. But somehow, it still managed to be nothing short of perfect. "Cute, a little weird," you shrugged, a smile teasing your mouth, "but cute."

Steve chuckled lowly, situating himself between your legs once you sat on the surface of the tile countertop. "That's funny."

"What is?"

"I said the same about you when I first met you," he laughed, unable to contain his smile before getting the joke out. The face you made didn't help. "Shut up, Harrington," you jab at his shoulder softly, cracking a smile of your own.

Though there was a newfound romance, the typical banter that was mutually exchanged wasn't going anywhere. You were glad that nothing changed between you when you started dating.

Toying with the drawstrings on Steve's Gap hoodie, you began zoning out, the thought of going to bed while cuddled up with your boyfriend, sounding all too alluring. Looking up at him, he was already intently staring at you with painfully adoring eyes and you couldn't help but melt under his heated gaze. "Hi," you muttered, shyness clouding you.

"Hi, sunshine," he smiled, adjusting the collar of your robe with careful fingers. "I'm sorry your day sucked."

"It doesn't, anymore," you replied, sincerely. Steve's eyes lit up at that. It wasn't a secret to anyone that his presence alone seemed to be the antidote for some of your worst days. You'd even admitted it yourself, once or twice. But it never failed to ignite the nerves in Steve's body with fervor.

Although you were completely honest that your mood had gone up about ten octaves since he'd been there, Steve didn't want to just be there. He wanted to do more. It was what you deserved.

"You up for a little adventure?"

"Depends," you squinted. "What kinda adventure are we talking about?" He shifted his weight onto his other leg as his eyes veered off to the ceiling, thinking.

Steve happened to have a few tricks up his sleeve.

"There's somewhere I wanna take you," he drummed a rhythmless beat on your thigh with his fingers. The sneaky expression on Steve's face told you everything you needed to know. He was up to no good. As much as you wanted to go on a late night escapade with your boyfriend, you had to be somewhat, even a little, responsible.

"Steve, it's late and we both have work in the morning," you huffed, losing your grip on the strings you'd been distracting yourself with.

Steve playfully rolled his eyes, flinging his body out of your clutches dramatically. He was going to get you to cave. Whether you already knew it or not. "Alright, grandma, I promise to have you back home at a reasonable hour. Deal?"

The internal battle on whether you should stay or go was evident in your features, though, realistically you had already come to the conclusion that you'd humor him. The "grandma" bit is what really did it for you.

"This is a dumb idea."

"I'll be waiting by the car," he smiled an accomplished smile before leaving the kitchen. Letting out another sharp exhale, you hauled your body off the counter and headed towards your bedroom, discerning that a robe probably wasn't the dress code for wherever it was Steve was taking you.

Concealing your underlying tank top with a hoodie almost similar to Steve's, you threw on some sneakers before snuffing out the diminishing candle. Giving your appearance a once-over in the mirror, you wondered what you'd just gotten yourself into. Though any time with Steve was time well spent, you couldn't help but to look at your bed longingly as you shut off the lights to your apartment, meeting Steve outside.

He stood by the passenger side of the car, fiddling with a loose thread by the end of his sleeve. The fall season brought a night frigid breeze that blew his hair over his eyes like a curtain, making him pout. You hugged your body as you neared him, brushing his brown tresses from his face, though the wind reversed your efforts in no time.

He pressed a kiss to your palm as he became a puddle under your touch, appreciating the way your toasty hand felt against his icy skin. Steve took his own turn rubbing at your arms when he saw you visibly shiver, teeth nearly chattering. "You wanna tell me where we're goin'?" Misty clouds left short-lived trails in the air between the two of you when you spoke.

"Now where's the fun in spoiling the surprise now?" He opened the car door to punctuate his sentence, gesturing you inside. You could only rebut with a roll of your eyes as you entered, though you and Steve both knew you were loving every bit of this. It warmed your heart knowing he was so keen on saving your day from the horror it started it out to be.

Digging through the glove compartment, you sifted through old receipts and other rubbish that really needed to be thrown away, searching for the mixtape you and Steve made for little times like these. Moments that may now seem small, but would soon become memories that you'd cherish for years to come. It served as a little time capsule; hearing the songs you two carefully picked, easily transporting you to these times even when you'd become gray and old.

As Steve began driving off, your fingers found the sneaky cassette that was scribbled with yours and Steve's initials along with doodles of suns, to represent you, and poorly drawn anchors in honor of Steve's Scoop Ahoy era, to represent him.

Regardless of Steve's slight disdain for that period of time, it was one of your favorites and obviously that was due to the fact that the uniform he wore, showed off his legs in the best way possible. It was the perfect eye candy that summer.

The low sound of Bob Marley singing Could You Be Loved floated through the quietness of the car, easing away any tension within you that might've still been trapped. You admired the way the town was so still. The time was hardly 11 p.m., yet there wasn't a soul to be seen; only lonely litter that drifted through the breeze, aimlessly. It was a stark difference from just a few hours ago when you had to dodge shoulders as you cut through the crowded streets on your way home.

The sky was dark and empty apart from the glowing crescent moon that seemed to be chasing you as you drove. It was the only light source you had aside from the street lights that lined the sidewalks. You started counting them and even got to as far as nineteen, but soon lost count once Steve picked up his speed a bit.

Your eyelids threatened to close as the calming drive coupled with the music, fought to lull you to sleep. But instead, bright neon lights stung your sensitive eyes that grew accustomed to the darkness. Squinting, you read the colorful sign labeled "Darling's Diner", and nostalgia strikes you. It had been years. Too many years since you and Steve had been here last.

"Holy shit," you glimmered, hurriedly unbuckling your seatbelt. Steve's hand that found comfort on your thigh during the ride gave it a squeeze before he put the car in park, rushing over to open your car door. He took your hand in his, adoring the way your stunned face gleamed under the glow of the pink and blue neon bulbs. "Surprise," he cheered in a low tone, lightly bumping his shoulder against yours.

The smile you had burned your cheeks but the elation you felt made it all too easy to ignore. The feeling you got whenever you came to Darling's was something indescribable. There were countless fond memories attached to this place and it left you all soft and gooey inside to know that Steve planned on making more with you here. Instinctively, you practically dragged Steve behind you as you rushed inside, the homey scent of burgers, fries, and shakes wafting to your nose.

The floors were still the black and white checkered tiles you remembered them to be; stained with drops of grease and sprinkled with deserted fries. Walls were not much neater, though they were messy with posters and vinyl records instead.

"Want the usual?" Your nod was immediate and shortly after, Steve approached the busy woman impatiently pressing buttons on the register. Wisps of hair fell out of her ponytail and clung onto the film of sweat developing across her forehead. She visibly shrunk into herself as she heard the bell above the door ring, signaling new customers. It was a much busier night than usual.

Regardless of the surge of patrons, the booth you and Steve usually sat in once upon a time, wasn't occupied. The wears and tears corroding the red leather almost served as a name tag, assigning the seat for you two. It was impossible to forget the days Steve came here with you after school, carelessly doing homework while listening to whatever song played on the jukebox.

The table was tidy apart from laminated menus and coloring sheets scattered across the surface. You smirked thinking of the times you and Steve swore you could be the next Picassos, the way you took those things so seriously. As if they'd be hung in museums, you did your best to color them, but not without the added challenge of switching papers with Steve every few minutes. A fun little game you played.

Colored pencils sat by the condiments and you made yourself busy adding hue to the Back to the Future poster, sliding Steve a sheet with some random sports car you didn't know the name of, when he made his way over. He traded you with a cup of hot cocoa with jumbo marshmallows that threatened to abandon ship. "Thanks, Stevie."

"Anytime," he smiled, biting at the cherry that was kissed with a touch of the whipped cream that sat atop of his strawberry milkshake. His long legs brushed against yours as he sat next to you, knees finding mutual rest against each other.

A waitress on pink roller skates offered a kind smile as she brought over a basket of fries that Steve and you snacked on while you chatted and giggled, coloring your own and each other's papers as time seemingly flew by.

"How long has it been since we've last been here?"

"I couldn't tell you. Anything before senior year is such a blur," you responded, adding finishing touches to Steve's car before taking the last sip of your now barely hot, hot chocolate. "I'm just sad we stopped coming here."

"Me too," he swung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for an apologetic kiss to your temple. "But I promise to bring you a little more often. It was our spot when we were kids and it'll be our spot now."

You looked at him with bright eyes while hugging his torso, despite the awkward position. Trying to understand what you did to deserve someone like Steve was a dead mission, as you could never fully wrap your head around it. How does one try to understand why they've gotten so lucky?

He kissed away the marshmallow mustache idling on your upper lip before tapping your leg twice, "C'mon, we've got one more stop to make."

The spot he sat in was quickly losing its fever as he stood, holding a hand out for you to take, but you just stared at him with a face that was an odd marriage of scolding and amusement. "Steve," you warned.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you can yell at me about it later. But I promise you'll love it." Waving his hand to urge yours into his, you accepted it with little hesitation at his grin. You wished the woman at the front a good night as you left the bistro, while Steve dropped a tip in the jar next to her.

He didn't let your hand go until you were sat in the passenger seat, subsequently getting behind the steering wheel, inserting the key in the ignition. You could tell Steve was tired too, the way he full-body stretched as he yawned, rubbing at his eyes that were getting a bit red from fatigue. He wanted to go to bed and cuddle and forget about the world just as much as you did. So why were you still out there?

"What's all this for, Harrington?"

He answered your question with another one of his own, "What's all of what for?"

"Tonight. Everything. The flowers, the diner, and now something else. I'm really grateful for it, don't get me wrong," you warmed his hand when you held it, "but why so much?"

Steve shrugged, averting his gaze to the gear shift sitting between you two. He softly rubbed at your knuckles while he gathered his thoughts.

"Well, you told me that you had a shit day. Just wanted to change that. I like when you're happy."

Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself and your chest stung when tears pricked at your eyes. Steve looked back at you affectionately, the voice of his eyes telling you just how much he cared for you. It made your heart so full. It was too much to handle sometimes.

"I like when you're happy too, Stevie," you beamed, blinking away the pool by your bottom eyelashes. Cupping his cheek, you pushed your plump lips against his that were a little chapped, though you didn't seem to mind at all. Reluctantly, you pull away and Steve doesn't think it was nearly long enough as he sneaks in a few extra pecks.

The drive to wherever on Earth it was that Steve was taking you, was much different compared to the one prior. It almost didn't look like Hawkins. For the past couple miles, Steve's burgundy BMW had been the only car on the road. The trees were taller, a darker green and stronger in numbers than the ones you were used to. The street lamps were less abundant and dimmer than usual, and the animal crossing signs told you that you were more than just a little ways from home.

You had almost said something until Steve pulled off to the side, parking the car on an empty hill just off the road that overlooked Hawkins and the neighboring city. It looked so small from here. Steve smirked at the puzzled expression you threw his way as you removed your seatbelt.

"Before you ask, just come outside. There's something I wanna show you."

You didn't bother waiting for Steve to open the door for you, as you stepped out, attempting to conjure up what he could possibly be wanting to show you out here. There was nothing to be seen but dirt and fallen leaves and branches. "What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Look up," he responded, leaning against the hood of the car.

Your furrowed eyebrows relaxed as a gasp fell from your lips at the sight of the cloudless sky, lighting up with numerous twinkling stars, an image you could only dream of seeing for yourself since you were a little girl. The mighty city that sat so close to Hawkins fostered light pollution that made it nearly impossible to see the stars at night. If you were lucky, you were only able to make out about one or two, though you weren't sure if they had been stars or planets, instead. Either way, it ignited your soul to be able to see such a bright and beautiful piece of the universe, making you feel so small in the best way possible.

That didn't nearly amount to this very moment though, where there were more stars that you could count, sitting so prettily in the midnight sky.

Mouth still agape, you utter, "Steve, it's beautiful," and other than that, you were rendered speechless. You couldn't dare to tear your eyes from it, worried that if you did, it would all disappear, proving to be a mere hallucination from your tiredness. Steve adored the way you stared at the heavens, noticing the way it was the same way you looked at him. All he could see was a clear reflection of the stars in your eyes, and it perfectly spoke to the way he felt about you.

He saw everything when he looked at you. The sun, the moon, the stars, the universe, even the galaxy. His past, his present, his future. All of it. To him, you encompassed everything beautiful and divine. He was convinced you were too good for this planet. Too extraordinary. How did he get so lucky?

"Look," you pointed at two stars that sat close to one another, shining impossibly brighter than the others, "do you think that's us in another universe?"

Steve smiled at your question, cherishing how whimsical you could be sometimes. Your voice was soft and full of wonder and he couldn't be more content in this moment. "Yeah," he nodded at you, "I'm yours in every universe, sunshine." He kissed the back of your hand, holding your intertwined hands against his chest.

"Y'know I was thinking to myself the other day about how weird relationships are," he stated, looking down at his feet. You peeled your eyes away from the sky, gazing at your boyfriend for the first time since you stepped out of the car. "Weird, how?"

"I don't know, like how you randomly meet someone and get to know them really well and one day just decide, 'I like this human. I'm gonna spend all my time with them and take care of them.' Maybe weird isn't the word, but it's definitely interesting," he rambled, talking with his hands, even the one that was still laced through yours.

You nodded along, understanding where he was coming from. It was something you'd thought about yourself. He continued, "Like, I look at us and how far we've come and it scares me a little 'cause I see how my parents are now. They were best friends before they got married and now I can count on only one hand the amount of times I've seen them hug or kiss. Freaks me out."

This was one of the few times Steve spilled what was weighing on his mind. You could always tell when something bothered him and though he'd give you bits and pieces when you asked what was wrong, it was never anything as nuanced as this. It made you proud to see him develop so much.

"We're not them, Steve. It's like you said, I'm yours in every universe. Maybe they aren't each others every universe," you sighed, "We won't end up like them, I promise"

You always knew how to reassure him. It was one of the things Steve loved so much about you; your way with words. Nothing sort of a poet, he thought. He engulfed your face with his palms, kissing you with every ounce of passion he had.

Lowly in the background, you could hear the song Just the Two of Us by Grover Washington, as the mixtape was still playing in his car. "It's our song," you smiled against his lips when you pulled away. You took his hands from your face, grasping them when you asked him, "Dance with me?"

He nodded, holding your body against his as your head fell against his chest, looking down at the sleeping town that felt so far away. You swayed back and forth, finding comfort in the near silence, listening to the rhythmic beating of Steve's heart. "Thank you for this, Steve," you whispered. "I'm lucky to be yours."

"Even if you weren't, I'd still do it for you," he admitted, running hand across your back, tenderly.

The little sentence made you think. Steve has been in your life for well over a decade now and he never failed to be there for you even when you didn't know how to ask for it. He was the one who took care of you whenever you found it a little difficult to take care of yourself. The one who never dared to leave your side.

You and Steve were in love even before you were. You'd been celestial even before this.

"I love you, sunshine," he murmured, head resting on top of yours.

"I love you back, Stevie."

💌 1 new message from jojo: pls pls pls comment/reblog (or both teehee) if you enjoyed, it means a lot! inbox is open!

[ladykailitha]

I have decided today I am giving out my Steve Harrington headcanons, because I love him so much.

His parents are very rich. His dad is new money, self made. His mom is old money.

His father is Indiana born and bred, but his mother is from Kentucky. She doesn't have her accent anymore because she trained herself out of it. Though it does show up when she's drunk or angry.

I know everyone does Richard (Dick) for his dad mainly for the lols, which I respect, but I think his name is Clint. It's just rich dude bro enough, you know? And then for the mom I go back and forth between Maureen and Allison. Allison because that's Ally Sheedy's character in The Breakfast Club and I often use her looks as bases for Mrs. Harrington.

They were never meant to be parents. They had the one because that's what was expected of them, but no. They don't like kids.

I don't know if his dad is only verbally abusive, but he is some kind of shit. Steve was so scared of him finding out that there was alcohol the night Barb vanished that that was all that consumed his thoughts. And even in season 3 Steve tells Dustin (thinking he was his dad) that he doesn't do drugs, just marijuana. Meaning that's something they've fought about a lot.

Kids of good parents rarely smoke, drink, smoke pot, and have wild parties all the time as an under-aged teenager. There are no doubt exceptions, but most of the time it's kids who are neglected and abused that are the ones that act out like that.

Steve had nannies and baby-sitters growing up that he saw more than his parents. But he would still be taken on actual vacations with them. Mostly to show off that they do have a son.

He was in baseball in middle school but quit when he got into high school. His parents put him in as many after school activities as they could. He was taught piano. Went to swimming and was so good at it, he joined the team in high school. Played basketball throughout both middle and high school. But he was forced to dropout due to the concussion Billy gave him his senior year. It's why he sneers at Brenda at the game when she says it would ironic if they won the championship the year after he graduated. Because he wasn't even on the team his last year.

When he turned sixteen they gave him his BMW. No, he did not get to pick the car or the color, but he takes very good care of it. Does a lot of the maintenance himself. One of the few things his dad taught him, but because you needed to know enough to make sure your mechanic wasn't ripping you off.

He can cook. But only if he has a recipe to follow and will get upset if it doesn't look like the picture. Is a consummate baker though. Because everything has a reason it's done like that and it makes sense.

Definitely a fall baby. That's why he was able to lifeguard for three years even if he didn't lifeguard after his senior year due to him working at Scoops Ahoy.

He's bad at math and science which is why the Party teases him all the time, but he's great at English and history.

Only applied at the schools his dad thought were "appropriate" and didn't get in. But to be fair, he was still suffering from a concussion when those applications went out and he wasn't really at his best. Just above his worst if he was honest.

He likes his preppy clothes and while he laughs it off, it upsets him when he's made fun for it.

Alt rock fan all the way. Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order.

Has a list of the Party's likes and dislikes for food and other things, so he is the best gift giver. He doesn't spend a lot of money, though he has been accused of that a couple of times. But he prefers well thought out gifts over expensive ones. It's why Max, Eddie, and the Byers boys love Steve gifts. They never feel pressured to one up him.

Complete romantic. Loves being in love, but it was hard to pick up the pieces of his broken heart after what happened with Nancy.

Loves Robin, but even though it is sometimes weird, it never veers into creepy or obsessive. Robin is absolutely the vodka aunt of the party to Steve's mom.

When Eddie comes into the group, they tease him that's he's the dad to Steve's mom. Because as goofy as Eddie is he absolutely wouldn't let the kids get into real trouble.

Steve the romantic gets absolutely wooed by Eddie and never is made to feel wrong footed when showers Eddie with the affection he would for a girl. It's nice for a guy to receive flowers sometimes too.

Steve favorite flower is sunflowers. But his favorite color is blue.

He absolutely keeps the vest. Refuses to give it back. Which Eddie is surprisingly okay with.

I could go on forever, but I'll stop there for now and if I come up with more I'll add them later.

[superblysubpar]

thank you so much for requesting @pastel-pillows I love writing Robin so much, and I'm also SO soft for her 💛 I hope you love this, thanks for your patience!

1439 words | my blog is 18+

“That guy’s totally going to spend all of his last paycheck getting that pink bear.”

“Who?” She shook her head, searching the crowd hard and making her forehead wrinkle.

You leaned closer to match her eye line, whispering, “There.”

Her breath hitched, and you’d like to think it was from the bump of your nose against her cheek as she followed your finger pointing down to the idiot in question. She gasped, before a burst of laughter shot out of her.

“That’s Steve!” Robin laughed harder, swiping at her eyes as the boy at the bottom of the hill in the gray jacket missed the bottles with the baseball again when a pretty girl ran her fingers through the back of his hair.

“Oh my god,” you laughed with her, leaning against each other to avoid falling over.

It had been the perfect night, if such a thing could exist.

The Indiana air wasn’t too sticky yet, the promise of a beautiful Summer making things buzz louder, shine brighter, and had the whole town out for the rinky-dink carnival.

When Robin had asked you to go with her, it was a string of jumbled and rushed thoughts spit out at you as she played with your fingers and a blush made her freckles stand out. She’d blinked up at you under fluttering eyelashes, the definition of hope and excitement and a little bit of nerves.

It had been an easy yes.

You’d spent the day changing your outfit six times, and reminding yourself that just because words like weightless, giddy, complete, were what you’d use to describe how Robin Buckley made you feel, you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself. For all you knew, this wasn’t like that for her at all.

And maybe that’s why you’d suggested dragging each other up the huge hill for some innocent people watching after filling up on too sweet of treats and riding all the rides (or well, the ones you were fairly certain wouldn’t break down). Because maybe watching her try and fail to eat cotton candy without making a mess, or laugh when she sabotaged your throw so she could win a game, and swipe at powdered sugar on her lips with her tongue as she asked you if she got it all had your stomach swooping more than the rides did.

So when she grabbed your hand as her laughter subsided and squeezed your intertwined fingers, her thumb swiping over your knuckles as she did, you couldn’t help but shiver.

“You cold?” She whispered, turning her head to catch the end of your exhale and the rise of goosebumps on your neck.

“I’m fine…” the word trailed off as she didn’t waste a second before shaking off her jean jacket.

Robin wrapped it around your shoulders as your heart pounded louder than the music playing below you both. Her fingers lingered on the collar of the jacket, playing with it as your eyes traced her jawline.

“Better?” Murmured as her finger dared lower, swiping over your collarbone.

You hummed, not trusting your words with her too close to the erratic throb of your pulse point. She was still so close, you could count each freckle dotting her nose and cheeks if she’d let you sit there all night. Could smell the cotton candy on her skin, mixed with apple shampoo and you were starting to convince yourself it was all too sweet, too unfair if you didn’t get a chance to taste it.

It was a little like right before a ride starts. The rules have been given, and you’re locked in, but they’re doing their final checks. And everyone around you is talking, restless. Nerves or excitement bubbling out of you all in the only way humans know how to deal with it. Joking and laughing, and talking to fill the space riddled with anticipation, legs swinging or fingers tapping. And then, as if you’re all under this sort of same agreement, a thumb’s up is given, and nobody moves or talks, and the ride starts.

Robin’s fingers skated up your neck, down, and back up as she swallowed, her eyes staring straight at your lips as she spoke like she didn’t know what a period was.

“So I really like you and I mean shit I really hope I’m not reading into all of this so wrong and if I am can we just agree to forget it but if not I think you’re amazing-“

“Robin, stop talking,” you interrupted, voice scratchy and rough and sounding nothing like yourself as your hands grabbed her elbows.

“Right, yeah,” her breath exhaled against your lips as her nose traced down the bridge of yours and her eyelids blinked rapidly, “Once I get going it’s hard to stop and it just sort of keeps tumbling out and-“

“Robin, I need you to stop-“

“I know sorry-“

“So I can kiss you,” laughing quietly as your hands traveled up her arms to her shoulders.

And Robin Buckley was finally speechless.

The thumb’s up had been given, and if you just tilted your head an inch, your top lip could bump her bottom, and maybe you both knew it, so neither of you moved for a moment.

A first kiss can be magical, but a first kiss with someone like Robin Buckley?

Her lips slotted over yours with ease, leaving too quickly and drawing away as if she was waiting for you to run, but your fingers curled around her neck and pulled her back eagerly and that was all she needed. Her mouth parted over yours slowly as her hand cupped your jaw and yours moved up into her hair.

It felt a little like you were on the sizzler again, brain scrambled and breath caught. Butterflies in your stomach not knowing if they should fly right or left or tumble forward in a somersault.

Robin’s lips moved with yours patiently, like she was going to take her time for once and nobody could stop her. She sighed when you pulled at her bottom lip harder, her free hand curling around the hem of your shirt at your hip like it was the only thing keeping her on the ground.

It was addicting, sweet sugary lips that you were greedy for, wanting the high that you hoped you’d never come down from. Your fingers cradled the back of her head, honey waves tangled around them as you tilted her and broke away against your will.

Stupid lungs needing air.

You kissed over her pink cheeks, to her jaw, ragged breaths taken against her skin as she did the same against your temple. Mouthing at her neck until she arched, and made a gasping sort of sound when your lips found a spot below her ear. You had every intention of getting her to make it again when a loud air horn blasted.

“Winner! Winner! We have a Winner!”

Dazed faces blinked at each other before you glanced down at the commotion, Steve standing in front of the booth holding a giant pink bear out to the girl.

Robin turned to you, chest heaving, eyes sparkling as her thumb dragged over your bottom lip and let it go softly.

“Idiot,” she murmured.

“Me?” You laughed, kissing her wrist as you asked, “Or Steve?”

Robin studied your face, fingers trailing over your cheekbones as she shook her head, “Me.”

Your head tilted, eyebrows lifted in a silent question and she smiled, a little lost in a big Robin Buckley brain thought.

“You know when you spend so much time being anxious before a ride, and then you finally convince yourself to do it, and it becomes your favorite one, and you’re so damn mad at yourself because of how much time you wasted being able to ride it?”

“Telling me you want to ride me, Robin?” You grinned, laughing when her cheeks grew brighter red and she sputtered around her words that you couldn’t help but notice weren’t quite a no.

You stood, and held out your hand, waiting until she grabbed it to start to pull her back down the hill.

“Where are we going?”

“Riding the ride some more,” you called, tugging her fingers as you stepped backwards. “You’re about to win your girlfriend a giant bear in way less tries than your best friend.”

Robin practically rolled you both down the rest of the hill she started running so fast, your hand clutched tightly in hers, proudly. As if they were always meant to be intertwined, like without them laced together, she wasn’t complete and neither were you.

[sweetbans29]

Power Couple Part 2 - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin get to support each other at the Olympics (based on THIS request)

Warnings: I actually don't think there is any, fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Power Couple

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Another cute one here for ya!

Time passed faster than either of you knew it could. Both you and Caitlin were named Rookie of the Year, you in the WNSL, and Cait in the WNBA.

Since then, the two of you have found two houses when you originally thought it would have only been one. A nice townhome in Chigaco and a neighborhood home in Indiana. Where you lived depended on who was in season. Both of your managers were very supportive of the two of you and would help organize your off-season life around where you would be. It would still require travel but your home base was still with each other.

Since that initial conversation about marriage, the two of you talked about it a little more. Most of it was just talk about what life would be like after the two of you are married but you have yet to see a ring. It was nice that it wasn't something that either of you needed right away to solidify your relationship. The two of you had been through so much already that you knew the other was stuck but in the best way.

Caitlin ended up proposing about halfway through your next season - all thanks to your manager. He was able to help her set it up without you having any idea it was coming - and you were thankful it wasn't on any sort of public platform.

The two of you actually ended up having a really small wedding in the back of her parent's house with just your immediate families. It was perfect and could not have been fitted better for the two of you. Of course, you had a celebration with both of your teams after your honeymoon which just turned into one giant party.

You surprised Caitlin with a golden retriever on her 24th birthday. It had taken you a little longer than you had hoped to get a dog but trying to navigate life through rookie season and what the W looked like for both of you was too much to add another character into the mix. But when things began to feel more of a routine, you knew it was time to add to your family.

You had planned the whole day for the two of you. Starting with a brunch with her team then off to a few more little things that the two of you enjoyed, eventually making your way back to Chicago. The night ended at a rooftop bar overlooking the water. At the end of dinner, the two of you sat there talking about life, reminiscing on all of your favorite memories.

"Thank you for today, babe," Caitlin says. The two of you are sitting with your chairs next to one another, looking out at the way the Chicago lights hit the lake.

You hum and look down at your watch - a gift from Caitlin for your birthday last year.

"How would you feel about a little walk along the water before turning in for the night?" You ask.

"That sounds perfect." She says as the two of you head from the restaurant.

The two of you walk hand in hand along the water. Something begins to approach you. You are intently watching Caitlin as the little figure makes its way towards you.

You hear Caitlin gasp and bend down. The puppy runs right up to her.

"Look at you! Where did you come from?" Caitlin is talking to the overly excited pup who just wants to cover her with kisses.

"How peculiar..." you say letting your girl take in the moment.

"Who do you belong to little one?" Caitlin asks, laughing at the puppy who is starting to settle down.

"Why don't you take a look at its collar?" You say, Caitlin just now noticing the collar around the dogs neck.

She took a second to orient it so she could read it. The second she does, her face shoots up to look at you.

"You did not." She says in complete disbelief. A smiling beaming on her face.

"I did not what?" You ask, pretending to be clueless as to what she could be talking about.

"You did not get me a puppy for my birthday." She says picking up the puppy.

"Why wouldn't I?" You say as you come over and pet the little one. The puppy gets excited again picking up a familiar smell.

"He is all ours," you say as you kiss the puppy's head and it licks your face.

Welcoming a pup into your life was an easy transition. Your favorite thing became seeing Caitlin curled up on the couch with the pup. They would often nap together and you would always snap a picture. On the flip side, Calitin would always find you in your yard kicking around a soccer ball with the little one (who was not so little anymore). She would always take videos of you scoring on your furbaby and running around the yard celebrating with your pup closely behind, jumping up and down just as excited as you were.

The next year or so was one of the best years for the two of you both professionally. It's also the year that the two of you get to see each other the most.

The Fever is on the uprise as they are looking to head to playoffs. It will be Cait's second time going to playoffs with this team. Last year was their first, getting knocked out in the second round. Watching them struggle to get their footing during Caitlin's rookie year to seeing them dominate on the court now has been a testament to the work Cait and the team have put in. It was also an amazing accomplishment for your girl to get Rookie of the Year and then MVP in her second year. As much as people wanted it to be in the same year - that was never Cait's expectation for herself. She just kept pushing to become better. You saw it, the team saw it and the world saw it. Not only that - but the expansion of the W that came with the up-rise of support is a continuous reminder of the effect that your girl has had and continues to have.

Your team has also benefitted from the rise in women's sports. It was neat to see the influx of fans in women's soccer in the US. It started with your team in Chicago. The spike happened drastically as Caitlin began attending your games - part of you felt like your manager had some sort of political agenda when he began talking to Cait but soon saw the genuine friendship that built between the two. The fanbase grew, not as much as women's basketball, but grew enough to have a few team additions to the US over the years.

Now the two of you are headed to the 2028 Olympics being held in CA. The last time the Olympics were held in Los Angeles was in 1984 (which is just over 50 years from when the Olympics were first in LA in 1932).

When teams were announced, it came as no surprise to either of you. Both of you were at the 2024 Olympics but on the second-string team - not getting much playing time. This year would be different, this year both of you were going as the face of your sports. Both of your teams had an all-star line knowing gold was within reach.

Being at the open ceremony and walking out to represent the USA while the Olympics were being held here was an experience you know would never be matched. It would never top the first time the two of you represented the USA but this would be a special one.

The two of you are standing next to each other the whole time, your respective teams close by. One thing that your relationship has opened the door to is relationships with the girls in your sports. Often times when Caitlin would come to support your games, she would bring a few teammates along and they would hang with the team after. You did the same with your teammates. Your two teams just naturally became one big family. It was nice to see that happen even within the USWNT and USAWBB teams. There was much less time acclimating but your two teams bonded thanks to your relationship.

It was the next morning when the media took to pointing out the two of you in LA together.

Looking through your feed - everything is about the Olympics. What catches your eye is a picture of you and Caitlin standing next to each other, both of your hands behind your backs looking up at what was happening in the opening ceremony. You scroll through to then see some photos of you exploring LA, one at the beach and one with the two of you shopping. They were all cute photos and you lean over to Caitlin who is scrolling on her phone.

"The first one is my favorite," you say as she takes a look at the photos.

"They are all my favorites," she says examining each photo. "But ya, that first one is fire."

She hands your phone back to you and sets her phone down turning to face you.

"How are you feeling about game 1?" She asks.

"I am feeling pretty good. Excited mostly. I am ready," you say as you take one of her hands into yours. "You?"

"I am ready." She says. "I feel more ready than I ever have." Her fingers now playing with yours.

You each have your own rooms but opted to stay in one, only using the second if really necessary - which neither of you foresaw needing.

Caitlin was the first to play out of the two of you. It was funny that you were always more nervous for her to play than she was and vice versa. When she was on the court - there was no doubt in anyone's mind that she didn't belong there and her lack of nerves came from her confidence in her ability and love. For you, it was growing up on the field - knowing who you are on the field never affected who you were off the field.

The way the Olympics set it up this year was better than the last time. There were special box seats for other athletes to come watch - not needing to hide or get bombarded by fans. Although you always made a point to go sign some autographs and take photos with those who have traveled to come and see you.

You brought some of your team along to watch Caitlin's team.

The level of play was so much fun to watch. You were cheering on Cait and the other women so much that one of your teammates had to tell you multiple times to calm down so you wouldn't lose your voice the following day.

They are down in the first two quarters but make a comeback in the third. The fourth was just a battle of who wanted it more.

The US took home the first win and could not be more proud of Caitlin and her team.

After the game, you ran up to her, crashing right into her.

"Watching you on the court will never get old," you say to her.

She lets out a laugh.

"I sure hope not babe, because I am nowhere near done." She says. "That one was too close for comfort for me."

"You were all adjusting and seeing what it's like to play on this sort of stage - the next one will be even better," you say letting her go.

The girls on your team all congratulate Caitlin and her team. They all begin talking about how they are stoked to come to watch your team play for the first time tomorrow.

As you all walk out - Caitlin makes time to sign some autographs and talk so some of the young girls who came out to watch them play.

You are pulled to the side by someone from ESPN and they ask if they can ask you a few questions. You nod saying you have time for one or two. This wasn't the first interview you had since coming to LA but you knew it would be the first one where you were going to get asked about your girl.

"How does it feel getting to be here not just playing for your country but watching Caitlin also represent the USA?" The reporter asks.

"It is almost surreal." You say. "I mean it is one thing to be here to represent our country but brings it to a whole new level getting to be here to support Caitlin. I could not be more proud of her."

"She was incredible in the US's first game against Japan. She really led the team well today." The reporter says and continues. "There has already been a handful of photos going around of you and Caitlin at the opening ceremony and out and about in LA. The two of you were named the W power couple during both of your rookie years and now you are here at the Olympics. Can we expect you two to now be the US Olympic power couple?"

You laugh at the question. It still is crazy to you how much attention your relationship has gotten even after all these years.

"It has been fun seeing how much the media loves our relationship," you say in a fun manner. "I mean at the end of the day I will be there to support Caitlin whenever possible and I know she would do the same. It is something really special that we are both here representing our country and being able to support one another on this platform is one that neither of us will ever forget. It is always nice to have your biggest fan with you as you take on the world in your sport."

"Well, we look forward to seeing Caitlin cheer you on tomorrow as you take on Zambia." They say and you thank them, making your way back to Caitlin.

Over the next few days, you and Caitlin switch off going to watch each other play gaining another huge following of people bringing back the nickname 'US power couple'. On the days the two of you didn't have games, you both would go out and explore the city. Most of your time is spent at the beach or going to watch other US games.

The media ate up every time the two of you were out, knowing the other wasn't far behind. The attention the two of you held was even more than your rookie year.

It is the last few days of the Olympics that has you excited. Both you and Caitlin. You are about to head into your final game, hoping for a spot on the podium.

As you are getting ready, you put your wedding ring on a safety pin and pin it on the inside of your jersey. You would pin it on the inside of your jersey while Caitlin would tie it into her shoelace. It was a way to have each other on the court or field.

Your last game of the series was the most challenging let. Both teams put in all they have for their country. The game goes into overtime with your team coming out on top at the end of it.

You don't remember much after the game but that night you see your mom has sent you a video.

Opening the message from her, you see a link to an article. As you open it, it is an article that someone has written about your relationship with Caitlin dating back to that first photo in high school. You scan through it seeing as they have included all of your milestones. At the end of it, you notice they have included your time together in LA. The last photo of the article mirrors the very first photo the world has of Caitlin supporting you.

It is a photo taken, field level with your hand raised in the air, yelling after your final win. Right behind you, you see Caitlin with her hands in the air, mirroring your excitement in the US support section. Whoever wrote the article must have been following the two of you for a while now. You look and see that they included a side-by-side of your senior year and today with the caption - 'Once a fan, always a fan'.

You save the photo and throw your phone away from you curling up next to your girl.

"Forever and always, right babe?" You ask.

"Forever and always," Caitlin responds, kissing the top of your head.

AN: CUTE. Let me know your thoughts. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[rogueddie]

Steve has always known that, one day, his parents would turn on him.

It's always been an uphill battle with them. It had taken him weeks to even get the conversation started, months to get them to turn a blind eye until he could finally be him.

He had won, in the end. He got what he wanted. They even moved across the country, all the way to Indiana, they keep their mouths shut and lie where they have to... mostly to protect their reputation, not Steves life, but still.

All of it, however, was made in the promise that Steve would one day work with his father. That he would fight his way to the top and be another thing that makes his parents look good. The long desired son and heir to the Harrington name.

With his parents extending their travels more and more, he's able to lie a little. He makes a lot of vague promises and waves away questions that inch increasingly closer to the truth.

But they're getting impatient. Their questions turning sharp, with vague implications of returning early so they can "correct" him. Put him on the "right course". They want him to finally fulfill his end of the bargain.

He's running out of time.

"I thought you were going to stick with Robin when she goes to college?" Eddie frowns.

"I was," Steve turns so he can hide his grimace. "She's going to stick as close as she can though. I, uh... kinda want some space from all of this. A break, you know?"

"Yeah, I think I do."

Eddie stays silent, the quiet dragging on long enough that Steve turns to glance back at him.

He's leaning on the counter, raising his eyebrows at Steve when they make eye contact, expression expectant.

"That's it," Steve lies, insistent. "Really. I need to get away for a while."

"Sure," Eddie nods. His smile is tight, forced. "And this has nothing to do with your parents coming home soon."

"What? That- no. Don't be silly."

Steve tries to laugh, wincing at how strained it sounds.

"Man, come on. You can talk to me. If they're..." Eddie pauses, glancing around the store, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "If they're hurting you, you can stay with us. Wayne won't let them near you. Robin would kill them for you."

"They're not hurting me. I'm not worried about that."

Although, Steve pauses. His fathers anger about his poor grades had been worse than he'd expected. He'd been worried, for a moment, that things were about to turn violent. If they find out that he's going to break his promise...

"Steve? Hey, are you alright?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I'll be fine. Forget about it, I'll just... think of something else. It's not a big deal."

"Right, uh... maybe you should talk to Robin about-"

"Hello!" Steve greets, turning the customer with a wide grin. "How can I help you?"

He tries to keep his focus on the customer, but he can see Eddie shaking his head and shuffling out. He pauses at the door, glancing back with a frown.

Steve glances at him, worrying at the determination on his face.

He clears his throat, looking back to the customer, trying to brush it off.

It plagues his mind. Its only when Robin finally joins him that he's able to push it to the side, soaking up the time and teasing as much as he can.

"We should visit Nance," Robin says, towards the end of their shift. "Hang out. We haven't for a while, have we?"

"Uh... sure?" Steve frowns at her. Something in her tone sounds wrong. "Did something happen?"

She glances at him, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't know," she shrugs. "Maybe?"

"Ok," he grabs her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. "We'll make sure she's ok."

It isn't until they're leaving for the Wheeler house that he grows suspicious.

Usually, Robin is relieved when he figures out what's worrying her. She wouldn't talk about what she thinks is wrong with Nancy, but she would usually talk about why she's worried. She'd take the opportunity to vent her stress.

But she's silent. She won't look at him, picking at her nails...

"This isn't about Nance, is it?" He asks after a minute.

"No, it is!" She insists, voice cracking. "Totally!"

He glances at her with a raised brow.

"Ok, fine, it isn't! But I'm not telling you what it's really about!"

"It's about me," he huffs, gently smacking her leg and looking at her with a smile so she knows he isn't mad. "Eddie's idea, right?"

She grumbles, folding her arms, sinking low in the passenger seat.

"Did he tell you to lie?"

"Of course he did, he's an idiot."

Steve snorts.

He throws an arm around her shoulders as they walk up to the Wheelers front door.

"Steve!" Mrs Wheeler greets with a grin, which softens when she looks to Robin. "Robin. Oh, it's so lovely to see you two. They're waiting for you in the basement."

Steve is taken back when they step down into the basement. There's more people than he would have expected to turn up for him.

Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle are gathered around the bottom of the stairs, beckoning them down. The kids are all piled on the sofa, with El and Lucas propped up on the arms. Even Hopper is waiting, arms crossed in the corner.

"Steve," Eddie starts.

But Steve quickly cuts him off. "What did you tell everyone? This isn't an emergency or anything."

"So there is something," Nancy says.

"Yeah, but it's my problem to deal with."

"You don't have to do it on your own," Robin points out, squeezing his waist.

"It is."

"What is going on?" Lucas asks. "Like, why do you need to go to Chicago so bad?"

"It's so far away," Dustin complains.

"Yeah, that's kinda the point," Steve rubs his temple, sighing. "It's a long story, alright? All you need to know is that I made a deal with my parents and I'm not going to uphold my side. I want to get out of dodge before shit explodes."

"Are they threatening you?" Hopper asks.

"Not yet. I don't plan on sticking around to find out."

"What are they threatening you with?" Jonathan asks.

"It doesn't matter."

"We will keep you safe," El says. "You are our friend. We can protect you."

"Thanks, El, but this isn't something you can really protect me from."

"Jesus, just tell us!" Mike snaps.

"Mike!" Nancy scolds.

"What? We can't help him if we don't know what's going on!"

"He has a point," Jonathan says.

"Steve," Eddie starts, stepping closer, speaking softly. "You can trust us. We're here for you."

He hesitates, before finally turning to Robin.

As always, she can read him like a book. She nods, grabbing his hand, dragging him back up the stairs.

"Woah, where are you going?" Nancy calls.

"Bathroom!" Robin calls back, not stopping or slowing down.

Luckily, the bathroom is clear and no one is around to see them both go inside before Robin shuts and locks the door behind them.

She crawls into the tub first, patting the spot next to her. She pulls him tight to her side when he sits next to her, wrapping both arms around him.

"I don't know if I can say it," he finally mumbles after a moment.

"It's ok. Take your time. They can wait."

She rubs circles on his back, unbothered by the dragging silence.

"Do, uh..." Steve clears his throat. "When you were talking about, like, being born lesbian... do you think it's like that with, uh... gender?"

She stills for a moment. She squeezes him, resting her head on his. "I know you were born a man."

"No, Rob, that's what I'm trying to say. I... I wasn't."

"Yes, you were," she insists. "You are a man. Just... some parts haven't always matched. You're still the best guy I know. Always have been. Knowing that people used to wrongly think you were a girl doesn't change that."

He twists, burying his face in her shoulder. "I love you, Robs."

"Love you too, Steve. So much."

"You're too good for me."

"I'm just right for you. And if your parents are threatening you with this, I'm going to kill them."

"They aren't," he says, finally pulling back. "I don't think they will. It'd make them look back too, like, we go down together or whatever. Probably best if I'm not here though. Just in case."

"Mutually assured destruction," Robin hums, squinting at the wall. "We could use that?"

"We?"

"Yeah! If they threaten to expose you, we threaten to expose them too. I mean, those crazy people like to pretend like they care so much about children- imagine how they'd react to your parents letting you transition at such a young age! They'd be ruined!"

"You think the others would go along with that?"

Her expression darkens, glaring at the door. "They better, or I'll have to kill them too."

He snorts, dropping his head back onto her shoulder. "You can't kill everyone that is mean to me."

"I can try."

"Yeah, yeah, you're so scary," he grunts as he climbs out the tub, offering a hand to help her. "So... what are we telling the others?"

"What do you want to tell them?" She grabs his hand, entwining their fingers. "We don't have to tell them anything if you want. They don't have to know if you don't want them to."

"I don't know... I feel like we need to."

"No. If you don't want to tell them, we don't tell them."

He pauses, thinking it over for a moment.

Robin squeezes his hand, patiently waiting.

"We should tell them. I just... I don't know if-"

"-You can do it yourself?" She finishes. "I can, if you want."

"Thanks, Rob."

"Always." She turns to the door, taking a deep breath. "Ready?"

"With you? Hell yeah."

Eddie and Nancy jump to their feet as soon as they start walking down the stairs.

"Are you alright?" Eddie asks.

"Fine," Steve nods. He turns to Robin, who nods back. "But, uh... there's something you should know."

"First," Robin starts, pointing sharply at all of them. "We've faced monsters from another dimension. El can move things with her mind. Steve is not weird at all and, in comparison to all that bullshit, you should understand how norml he is. Alright?"

Steve has to bite back laughter at how stunned everyone looks.

He's pretty sure it works though. He watches all of their reactions as Robin answers as many of their questions as she can, dismissing a lot of them with a simple; "stupid question, next".

When they finally run out of questions, it's Mike who breaks the silence.

"Well, that was dumb and pointless," he says. "Congratulations, Steves a man. We all knew that!"

"Mike-" Nancy snaps, starting towards him.

"No, listen," he shouts, raising his hands. "No one here knows about this apart from his parents and now us, right? Or is there, like, files?"

"No," Steve answers. "They lied and forged what they had to."

"Oh, that could work," Lucas says, looking to Mike.

"What could?" Nancy asks, impatient.

"Everyone sees Steve as a man," Lucas asnwers. "And all the information says he is too-"

"No one would believe them," Mike finishes.

"I've seen your birth cirtificate," Hopper says, nodding. "Everything says you were born male."

"It's their word against reality," Mike says. "They'd look insane."

"No one would believe them," Nancy repeats, grinning.

"Wait, so... what?" Steve asks, feeling a little dazed.

"You're safe," Robin says. "You're safe, Steve. They don't have anything to threaten you with. You're safe."