#i have 3 who are old enough to have regular conversations with and the other 2 r a bit young. 2 of the 3 r kinda mean tho | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strangersteddierthings · 5 months

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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

#steddie #my fic #wayne pov #wayne munson #eddie munson #honestly this didnt go the way i thought it would #so there will be a third and final part. Wayne's gonna make it right because he's a good uncle. A good dad.#SPOILER: steve doesnt even show up in this part so im not tagging him

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watermelonlovershigh · 5 days

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Friends Who Share Mutual Emotions {part 3.} (housemate!harry series)

Arguments and Confessions {part 2.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: i've been in a writing mood lately so i hope you enjoy me spitting out these stories left and right lol. anyways, here is part 3 to my housemate series. before you ask, yes there will be a part 4 and hopefully a couple more after that. let me know how you liked it and make sure to leave your feedback. thank you and enjoy!

This story contains: mentions of one-night stands, confessions of feelings, slight angst, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - soft!harry - au harry }

word count- 1,372

Harry confesses that you're the women he likes and after giving you some time to think, you have an eventful conversation about your mutual feelings and how you'd like to move forward within your friendship.

Looking deeply in your eyes, Harry answers clearly, "Her name..... her name is Y/n." The weight of his confession leaves you standing in the kitchen, completely shocked. When you initially asked him about his love interest, you never anticipated that he would reveal his feelings for you. Although he described some of your qualities, you didn't think much of it, as many people can possess similar traits.

Realizing that you need some time to process his words, Harry rises from his stool and states, "I don't expect you to feel the same way about me or anything. I'll give you some space to think, alright?" With that, he turns around and retreats back to his bedroom.

Now standing alone in the kitchen, you find yourself torn about what to do. On one hand, the man who kindly allowed you to stay in his home as a housemate, who eventually became your friend, and whom you've developed feelings for, has just confessed his affection for you. It seems like the ideal outcome, but what if something goes wrong? You would risk losing your best friend and a place to live.

On the other hand, if everything goes well, you could finally experience a fulfilling relationship. You could put an end to the casual encounters and truly understand the intimacy that others have experienced in Harry's bed. You would have the opportunity to feel his touch on your skin and savor his kisses, something you had only imagined during fleeting encounters with strangers.

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You head to Harry's bedroom and upon reaching his door, you give it a hesitant knock. A soft voice responds with, "Come in." and you take that as your signal to enter. Inside, you find him sitting up in bed with his cat Pixie beside him, and the TV showing old episodes of Friends.

Approaching his bed slowly, Harry gestures for you to sit beside him. After a deep breath, you confess, "I want you to know that I have feelings for you too, Harry. How could I not? You're kind and sweet, and anyone would be foolish not to have a crush on you. But, I'm afraid."

Harry turns off the TV to focus on you. "Afraid of what, Y/n?" he asks, "We both like each other. What's there to fear?"

"It's not that simple, Harry," you respond with a hint of frustration. Why can't he see your concerns? Maybe it's a gender difference. Men don't worry about relationships as much as women do. Well at least from your personal experiences.

"Can you explain then, please? I want to understand your fears so we can move forward in a way that works for both of us."

Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, you express, "Harry, what if things don't work out between us? What happens then? I could lose a friend and I might not have enough money to cover regular rent in London."

"Y/n, our mutual feelings don't automatically require us to rush into a romantic relationship. We can proceed at a comfortable pace, one day at a time. Even if we don't progress beyond friendship, I value our bond too much to risk losin' it. As for your concern about losin' a place to stay, rest assure that I would never evict you if things don't work out romantically. You were my housemate first and foremost, and that won't change. Well, unless you want to move out someday that is."

Hearing his words have made your eyes gloss over. You can hear the sincerity in his voice and it makes your heart swell. But, you still need some clarification to move forward. "So like, where do we go from here, Harry? I don't want to think we're one thing but you assume we're something else. I don't want to constantly be questioning where we stand. What's too much or what's not enough."

Harry adjusts his posture, leaning closer to you. He carefully reaches out for your hands and clasps them within his larger grasp, holding them gently as he begins to speak. "As I mentioned earlier, Y/n, we can take this slow. Let our connection develop naturally. At this moment, I would describe our relationship as friends, but friends who share mutual emotions. And in response to a question I know you may have, no, I will not be sleepin' with anyone else. And I don't expect..."

Anticipating his next words, you swiftly interject, "No, neither am I. I mean, being involved with someone else intimately. I can promise you that. Besides, I never truly enjoyed having one-night stands. I only sought them out as a means to conceal my feelings for you. But now that my feelings are out in the open, there's no reason to hide them any longer. From now on I only want you."

Chuckling in relief, Harry murmurs, "Just me, huh?" He was incredibly anxious that you might still have the desire to sleep with other people, even though that didn't make much sense after you had confessed your feelings for him. However, he couldn't be entirely certain.

You lean forward, wrapping your arms around Harry's body, embracing him tightly. "Of course, Harry. I would never do that to you. Besides, most of the men I slept with were unsatisfactory, so I'm perfectly fine with giving up my one-night stands."

Harry reciprocates the embrace, then teasingly asks, "Unsatisfactory? Are you tellin' me those muscular, macho men you brought home hardly ever satisfied you?"

You respond, your voice filled with affection against his neck, "That's right. And when they did, it was usually because I was thinking of you."

"Alright, let's end that conversation right here or we'll have a problem on our hands and break our 'takin' it slow' rule." Harry remarks, trying to maintain a sense of caution. If you kept talking about how you always thought of him while having sex with all those strangers, he'd get hard in his pants and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable right now. Nor does he want to move that fast. Like he said, he genuinely would like to take whatever you are, slow.

You laugh at his words and playfully say, "Can we take a nap? I'm feeling tired. Didn't get much sleep last night."

Harry nods in the embrace you still hold and replies, "Yeah, we can take a nap if you'd like. I didn't get much sleep last night either."

As you sit up, you carefully shift towards Harry's side where he's preparing a space for you to rest. "Seriously?" you inquire. Although you noticed his exhaustion when he entered the kitchen earlier, you didn't consider that it might be due to a lack of sleep.

"Yeah," Harry begins to coo while helping you under his duvet, "felt awful with how I spoke to you last night. The guilt ate me alive and I couldn't sleep."

Now laying side by side, facing each other, you whisper out, "Awe, well you can rest easy now. I forgive you." As your eyes flutter shut, Harry can't help but think about how you're too far away from him. Even though you're literally just six inches apart in reality.

So without thinking, he draws himself closer to you and wraps you in his arms. Which in turn has you pressed up against his clothed chest. "Is this alright?" Harry whispers quietly. Although he wishes to take things slowly, cuddling is typically considered a leisurely activity, isn't it? It remains innocent and platonic.

"Yes, very much alright." you reply and soon after fall asleep. The musky smell Harry produces along with the warmth of his body lulls you right to sleep. It may be only nine in the morning but with your lack of sleep the night before, have no trouble falling unconscious.

Harry also falls into a deep slumber. The comfort of having you in his arms lulls him into a state of relaxation, leading him to quickly doze off. His cat Pixie has now settled at the foot of the bed, peacefully asleep alongside you both. Harry's once anxious room is now filled with tranquility. The unfolding of your friendship will become more apparent when you wake up later today.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet // @meetmyblondemuffins // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles // @skyangel57 // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss // @kissmyaxe140 // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom // @swiftmendeshoran

// @luv-flor7777 // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone // @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry // @shadowygladiatorlight // @manifestrry //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

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My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #friend!harry #friendrry #housemate!harry #housematerry #softrry #soft!harry #harry x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #friends to lovers #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb

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gabessquishytum · 6 months

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You know what concept doesn’t get explored enough in Dreamling fic? Dream teaching Hob how to read. Like, I’ve seen one or two off mentions of it in canon adjacent fic, but nothing that really gives focus to that idea, y’know? And while I think it would be fun in canon, I’m gonna go au real quick.

So Hob as one of those kids unfortunately left behind. Probably a combination of living in poverty and his undiagnosed adhd. And he’s definitely way too embarrassed by this to actually ask anyone to teach him. So now he’s an adult who doesn’t know much more than his own name and his numbers. And while that probably wouldn’t be enough for most people to get by, what Hob DOES have are people skills. His ability to charm people and talk around them let’s him get through life well enough.

Then there’s Dream, mister wet cat himself. If he’s not an Author™️ then he’s definitely a voracious reader. But he has a personality of a damp paper bag. Like, even he has to admit his lack of social skills is actively hindering his life and relationships at this point. Probably add some autism for ✨flavor✨

But Dream does have moments where he’s too observant for his own good. Which is how he clocks that Hob avoids reading like the plague. (I’m envisioning Hob as a bartender at the pub Dream goes to to try and learn human behavior. But idk if he could avoid reading with that job.)

So Dream corners Hob and proposes a trade off: Dream will teach him how to read and Hob will teach him some social skills. Once Hob realizes he’s not being threatened (seriously, Dream really sucks at this talking to people thing) he hesitantly agrees. At least it’s less embarrassing if Dream also needs to be taught something? And it would be rather helpful…

Obviously during the course of their lessons they fall in love 🥰

This means so much to me!!!! I love it. The idea of Hob hiding the fact that he can't read is so heartbreaking but actually so real and its way more common than people imagine.

I also love the idea of Hob + Dream = One Normal Functioning Adult. That's my favourite thing, when they're each other's missing puzzle piece <3

I figure that Hob might have picked up a few words from around the environment of the bar. Like, each tap has a label on and he knows exactly which is which and he can technically read "Guiness" and "Wherry" and a few others, but they're not the most useful words. Anyways, Dream gets the idea that he'll keep using things around the pub to teach Hob to read: menus, newspapers, posters for old gigs, crisp packets. It's a good way for Hob to build confidence before Dream presents him with an actual book.

And similarly Hob uses the bar as a place to teach Dream about social skills. He coaches him through identifying body language and expressions, quizzing Dream on how he thought each customer might be feeling. Then he encourages three way conversations between him, Dream and regular customers. He gives Dream topics to focus on and gives him safe ways to get out of an interaction that he's not vibing with.

By the time Hob stumbles his way through his first novel, Dream is able to talk to a stranger about the weather without any issues. And they're both mutually crushing on each other so hard!! It only seems fitting that the pub which has been such a cornerstone for their friendship and some pretty awesome personal milestones, is also the place where they have their first date.

Hob reads love sonnets to Dream in a hushed undertone. And it's like the whole building sighs happily at the sights of them together <3

#acedragontype #the sandman #dreamling

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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hi! i love your works so much and i have a request ^^ i wanted to ask if you could do a jealous and/or possessive eddie? maybe where steve and eddie are super close to finally admitting they like each other and just need one more push or something, or they're just newly dating. they're both at a gay bar, and steve's been receiving lots of stares and heated gazes from some of the ppl there? maybe a person was brave enough to try but eddie's right beside him watching the entire interaction.

i've come across a fair share amount of jealous/possessive steve in steddie stories and i wanted to see it being eddie for a change. tysm in advance and i can't wait to read the other requests with your amazing writing <3

I LOVE possessive Eddie!!! I really only see it in Kas!Eddie or vampire Eddie situations and I wish it was written more for just regular old human Eddie who just has entirely too much love for Steve to contain his emotions when someone else tries to make a move. I hope you like this little thing (2500 words!) I came up with and the other requests I've been putting out so far! - Mickala ❤️

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Robin convinced them she needed support.

Support Steve’s ass.

She was doing just fine from the moment they stepped in the door of this place.

So fine, in fact, she’d abandoned him and Eddie before they even got their first round of drinks brought to them.

Steve sat at the table with Eddie, awkwardly watching as people kept dancing and drinking and making out in dark corners of the bar.

He tried not to look too much, though. He didn’t want anyone to think he wasn’t comfortable here.

Quite the opposite, actually.

He’d been here a couple of times with just Robin: once before he figured out he was into men, once before he figured out he was into Eddie, and once more before this where he tried very hard to be into Eddie and failed.

But Eddie had insisted on coming when he overheard them talking about it, saying he hadn’t been here since high school and could use a night in a place where he could just be himself.

As if he wasn’t always obnoxiously (and beautifully) himself.

Robin had given Eddie a Look, but nodded in agreement, saying it would be awesome to have both her favorite guys there.

Which rubbed Steve a little wrong because he was her only favorite guy.

But he got over it because now Eddie was his only company, probably for the entire night going off of the way the girl with Robin was staring at her.

Ogling her.

Steve sighed. Eddie sighed.

They looked at each other and laughed.

“She do this to you every time?”

“No, usually we stick together. Must feel brave since you’re here with me.”

“Awww, she trusts me.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was probably more truth to that than he cared to admit.

Robin was often afraid to leave him alone, but she never hesitated if Eddie was with him.

He felt people staring at him, but he ignored it. He wasn’t here to find anyone and it would be silly to even try knowing that Eddie was right there.

But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to have people checking him out. He used to thrive on it in high school, feeling seen by anyone was better than being seen by no one.

Then, he hated it. He wanted to be invisible and he wanted everyone to focus on anyone and anything else in the room. He got his wish most of the time.

Until Eddie.

Eddie always included him in everything, pointing out when he was being quiet or moody, asking him questions to involve him in conversations, making sure he understood what Dustin was saying which was a challenge often.

He would touch his arm when he passed by him on the way to grab a drink from the kitchen or let their thighs touch on the couch on movie nights.

He let him come over after work on the nights he was too riled up, needing to let out some of his energy with a walk, but being too scared to do it alone.

So Eddie saw him, and made others see him, and he didn’t always love it, but he accepted it.

Tonight felt different, though.

All these eyes on him meant that people found him attractive, maybe wanted to dance with him or bring him home. If Eddie weren’t here, he’d maybe give it a shot with someone, try to find a way out of this hole he dug himself into with the first guy he’d admitted to himself he had feelings for.

But he also felt Eddie’s eyes on him, practically burning a hole through the side of his face every time he looked out at the crowd.

He felt heat crawling up his neck, to his cheeks.

Having all of Eddie’s attention was a lot for anyone, but especially Steve, who frequently thought about what it would be like to have Eddie’s attention on him in bed, or in the shower, or on the couch, or the pool, or-

“Did you want another drink?”

Steve looked down at the drink in his hand. He’d barely finished half of it, so he didn’t really know why Eddie was asking unless he just needed an excuse to get up.

“Um. No thanks. Probably should just have one anyway.”

“Sure.”

Eddie got up with his empty glass and started walking towards the bar.

Almost as soon as Eddie was gone, a taller man in a suit was taking his place at the table.

“Well, hi there, honey. Never seen you here before. First time?”

The guy was older, mid-thirties at least, and probably not the type of guy Steve would want to experiment with. But he was flirting, and he was kind of cute.

Steve could let himself enjoy a little casual flirting, right? It wouldn’t have to lead to anything.

“No, but I don’t come often.”

Steve rested his arms on the table, head in his hand. He grinned at the man, that Harrington charm practically beaming off of him.

“You could come tonight if you wanted to join me in the back.”

That was smooth. Sleazy, but smooth.

Steve didn’t drop his grin, but he shook his head.

“I don’t think I’m interested in just hooking up in the bathroom. Maybe you could buy me a drink?”

He had no intention of drinking another drink, but he figured this guy would lose interest if he showed he was more needy.

He was wrong.

The guy practically tripped over his feet to stand up from the booth.

“What would you like?”

“Oh. Uh.”

“He’s good, man. How about you go buy a drink for someone interested?”

Eddie came out of nowhere. Seriously, Steve had just seen him at the bar a few seconds before he spoke.

“Is this your boyfriend or something?”

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly as Eddie stood taller, more intimidating.

“Does it matter? I’m asking you nicely to go.”

“I don’t think it’s up to you. I asked him.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to punch the guy, and Steve could admit to himself silently that he wanted to see it.

But he didn’t quite understand why Eddie was reacting like this; He’d assumed Eddie would want to try to hook up with someone while he was here and wouldn’t want to spend all his time with Steve.

“Steve? Do you wanna get a drink with this guy?”

No, he didn’t. He hadn’t even before Eddie came back. But a part of him had to wonder if maybe Eddie’s reaction was just to protect Steve from an older guy.

“I actually have to drive us back home so I probably shouldn’t have another drink. Thanks though.”

The guy mumbled something before turning and leaving, shaking his head as he walked to the bar.

Eddie slid into the booth next to him instead of across from him, letting most of their sides touch.

Steve couldn’t help the way his body naturally curled into Eddie’s, the comfort and safety of his body drawing Steve in without effort.

It should have ended there. Steve should have just let himself stay rested against Eddie’s side until Robin was done.

He did for a minute, but then his brain decided it needed explanations.

“What was wrong with that guy buying me a drink?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, his body tense against Steve’s.

“I just don’t think he was the right kind of person to be buying you a drink. You deserve better than that.”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Eddie didn’t know the guy, he could’ve been really nice. Other than the propositioning as his first line, he seemed like he was willing to do whatever Steve wanted to get more time with him.

“Who is the right kind of person then?”

“Someone younger. Maybe someone who doesn’t wear a damn suit to a gay bar. This is a casual place, there’s no need to flaunt your super important job. Plus, he could see your drink was still half full, he should’ve known you didn’t want one.”

“You offered me a drink before you got up.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I’m not trying to get you drunk to sleep with me.”

Yeah, and wasn’t that a shame?

Steve dropped it. It wasn’t worth arguing with Eddie and he didn’t want to ruin any of the fun they could have.

“Should we dance?”

Eddie pulled away and looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“You want to dance with me?”

“Why not? We’ve been abandoned by Robin and the music isn’t bad.”

The music wasn’t bad to Steve. Eddie, however, was suffering through it as it was, and that was without having to dance to it.

“Pleeeeease?” Steve pouted at Eddie, eyes wide.

“You can’t make that face. It’s not fair.”

Steve kept making the face because being fair wasn’t something he cared about.

Eddie stood up, holding his hand out towards Steve to help him stand from the table.

Steve took it, ignoring the way he wanted to collapse against Eddie the second he stood up.

They made it to the dance floor, where a surprising amount of people were dancing in pairs and small groups, enjoying the fact that they could safely here.

Just when Steve turned to Eddie, the music changed to Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears.

Steve tried not to take it as a sign.

Eddie suddenly looked even more nervous, like he’d planned on maybe getting away with just jumping around to the music and now he couldn’t.

Just when Steve was going to give him an out, another guy, this one younger, but not as nice looking, wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

“How ‘bout we dance, sugar?”

The guy was drunk.

Steve wasn’t interested in ruining his favorite song by dancing with this drunk guy.

“He’s busy,” Eddie said firmly.

The guy backed up a bit, but still had his hand against Steve’s arm, resting there with enough of a grip to keep him upright.

“Sorry, you got somethin’ against me dancin’ with him?”

“Yeah, that’s why I just said he’s busy.”

Eddie pushed the guy’s hand off of Steve’s arm and put his own around Steve’s waist, pulling him against his side with no room for air or argument.

Steve tried to catch his breath, his heart skipping a beat and his lungs exhaling instead of inhaling.

“Maybe you should let him say if he’s busy or not.”

Steve was missing his favorite song to argue with a guy he wasn’t interested in when he could be dancing with Eddie.

Unacceptable.

“I’m dancing with him. Find someone else.”

The guy rolled his eyes and walked away.

Eddie turned and adjusted his arms so they rested on Steve’s hips.

Steve didn’t know what to do.

“Have you never slow danced before, King Steve?”

“Uh. Just once.”

“Oh? Let me help you then.”

Eddie took his hands in his own and gently placed them around his neck, pulling himself closer to Steve when his hands found his hips again.

“This okay?”

“Yeah.”

Steve wasn’t sure how this was happening, how this was real.

He just knew he didn’t want it to end.

He rested his head against Eddie’s shoulder, letting himself enjoy what would probably be his only chance at dancing with Eddie for the rest of his life.

“Why do you keep sending people away?”

Why was Steve determined to ruin tonight with his stupid fucking questions?

“What do you mean?”

“It just seems like you don’t wanna share.”

Eddie didn’t respond.

Steve looked up at him, but his face was hard to read in the darkness of the bar.

“Eds?”

“I don’t.” Eddie cleared his throat. “I don’t wanna share you. I like having you all to myself. Sorry if I’ve ruined your night.”

He started to pull away and Steve panicked. He couldn’t say that and then leave.

“What do you mean? You haven’t ruined anything. I wanted to spend it with you, anyways.”

Eddie was searching his eyes, looking for any sign of a lie.

“Steve, I-” The song changed, but it was another slow song. They kept slowly rocking and staring at each other. “I have to tell you something. You’re probably gonna hate me and wanna leave me here in Indy.”

Steve gulped. Could he possibly have feelings for Steve?

“I uh. I sent them away because I was jealous.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I love you so fucking much I don’t know what to do with it all the time! Sometimes I hide in the bathroom during movie nights so I can scream into the towels. Do you know how ridiculous that is? I’ve even been caught by Max before and she promised not to say anything if I gave her $20.”

“Oh.”

Oh? What the hell Steve, say something else.

“So, I get it if you hate me. I mean, I don’t know how this happened and I have no right to send potential dates away because I want to keep you to myself.”

Steve leaned up and placed a kiss on Eddie’s cheek.

“I’m glad you got jealous.”

Eddie was blushing now.

“What?”

“If you hadn’t been jealous, you probably wouldn’t have told me all this, would you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“You know what helps with jealousy?”

Eddie looked down at him, more confused than ever.

Steve didn’t wait for him to respond.

“Making out in the bathroom of a gay bar.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as he registered what Steve was saying.

“You wanna do that? With me?”

“Well, I certainly don’t wanna do it with anyone else. And you won’t let me do it with anyone else. So maybe we should do it together.”

Eddie grabbed his wrist and wordlessly led them to the bathroom in the back of the bar.

It wasn’t empty, but the single stall was available and Eddie made it pretty clear what their intentions were when he dragged Steve right into it, closing and locking the door only a second before his hot lips were on Steve’s.

It was better than what Steve could have possibly imagined, but still not enough.

Now that he knew Eddie wanted him, he wanted everything Eddie could give him.

And Eddie seemed to want to give it all to him.

His lips were almost too much, but Steve couldn’t get enough.

They weren’t even in a bathroom anymore, floating high above the clouds with happiness and contentment.

Until a knock on the stall door nearly made Steve give himself another concussion.

“Dingus One and Dingus Two! Super happy for you both, but it’s time to go.”

“Shit.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s nearly one in the morning and we agreed to leave by midnight. I got distracted by boobies.”

“Don’t we all,” Steve said, as Eddie let out a loud laugh.

They opened the stall door and Robin sighed.

“Fix your hair. I’ll be at the car.”

Steve looked in the mirror as she left the bathroom, smirking at Eddie’s reflection behind him in a similar state of disarray.

“Okay?”

“So okay.”

“You owe me a dance.”

“What? Why? We danced!”

“But it got interrupted. And I wanna dance with you.”

Eddie sighed, but smiled fondly at Steve.

“I’ll dance with you whenever you want, sweetheart.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #love confessions #possessive eddie munson #jealous eddie munson #platonic stobin #anon request #requests

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slasherhoe87 · 10 months

Note

Morning darling🥺

I hope you're doing well honey, if you don't mind could you please do a short fic of Michael Myers where the reader comforts him and makes him feel like he's someone who's deserving of love and appreciation, that man needs love so bad😩

Thank you :3 xx

Sad Michael Gets the Love and Assurance He Deserves

Peepaw Myers

Fluff / Angst

Soft Michael

You watched helplessly from the doorway as Michael stood motionless, staring off into the distance in front of his old bedroom's window of the Myers house.

You looked at his knife, tossed haphazardly onto the nightstand beside the bed. Never before would his beloved knives be so carelessy thrown about.

But Michael had been "off" for days now. You weren't sure what had pulled him into this melancholic frame of mind.

To anyone else, they would see no difference in his regular 'emotionless', stoic demeanor. But you have been with Michael long enough to that he was anything but emotionless. The man had a well of emotions so deep one would be hypnotized and fall down into its inky abyss if they had but to peek inside. And something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

He ate less than usual. His bags of beloved candy remained sealed and untouched. He withdrew into himself and away from your touch - which hurt, but you wanted to give him his space to work through whatever he was going through. But most concerning of all, he had not gone out hunting all week. This is not Michael. This is not your Michael.

"Michael?" You call softly from the doorway.

Michael ever so slightly tilted his masked head in your direction, aknowledging your presence.

You stepped into his childhood bedroom and tentatively stepped towards the rickety, old single bed and sat down.

Michael continued to stare out of the window, into the night sky, not aknwowledging your presence any longer.

You stared out into the clear, moonlit sky for a moment collecting your thoughts. You took in a deep breath and began.

"Michael, baby, please tell me what's troubling you? You have not been yourself for a while now. Please talk to me"

You waited and made yourself a little more comfortable on the edge of the bed, knowing you would be in for a wait for an answer... if he decided to answer you at all.

Two minutes passed, then five, then ten. The room was filled with nothing but silence. Sighing, you decide to get up and leave Michael be but he stops you with his voice.

"Don't go" two single words left his lips. They were rough, shaky, soft. Spoken by a voice that was often unused.

Since the two of you started a relationship Michael had been speaking more. You would never be having a full blown conversation with the man, but he'll give you short sentences or a word here and there for your own benefit of understanding him.

You look up at the tall man before you, moonlight casting a sinister glow on his weathered old mask.

He takes a few slow strides towards you and sits stiffly down next you on the bed. It creaks, groans and sinks in at his weight. He sits ruler straight, as always.

You place your hand on his thigh and rub small circles on it with your thumb.

"Tell me what's wrong Michael. I can't help you if you don't let me in"

Silence falls between the two of you again for a short while before you finally hear the soft, raspy words you've been waiting to hear for a while now.

"Failure. Old and useless. Didn't get them"

"What? Michael what are you talking about?"

You scrunch your brows together and try to decipher what he meant when it hit you all at once. You remember now... that night Michael came home which was the last time he hunted, he had come home with intact and relatively clean overalls and no blood on his knife.

Oh. Oh.

"Michael. Are.. you feeling like a failure because you didn't manage to kill your potential victims last time?"

Michael never let anyone get away from him. Ever. Except for Laurie but that was a whole other fucking shitstorm. At his age, and him not being successful in his kills... yes. You could easily see how hard a predator like Michael would take such fails. His very life, being and existence was defined by him being a serial killer.

You scoot over towards him and climb into his lap. He brings his arms around your frame and holds on - tight.

You wait and wait for confirmation to your question and eventually lay your head against his shoulder and close your eyes.

"Yes" is the soft, raspy reply you finally receive.

"You are not a failure Michael. So you had an off night.. everyone has off days when things just don't go their way" you tell him, eyes still closed, comy in his protective embrace.

"Not. me."

With a soft huff you reposition yourself to straddle his lap and face him. "I'm going to take your mask off, ok?" You begin to slowly peel it off him but still for a moment in case of protest. Upon receiving none you lift the old mask up and off Michael's head and toss it onto the bed.

You smile at seeing his weathered and handsome face. Grey stubble, a lovely grey eye and grey curls which he had decided to grow out like in his youth - the only difference compared to his youth was the thinning of his hair on the top. But nothing detracted from his beauty. Not his textured skin, not his scars, not his thinning hair.

You cup his face and he raises his melancholic gaze at you.

"Yes. You. You're only human Michael - ok that's a tad debatable but my statement still stands. There is a first time for everything Michael.. and this was your first time. It might happen again or it might very well not. Please don't beat yourself up about it"

You begin to give him little kisses all over his face while reassuring him. "It was an off day for you Michael, nothing more nothing less. From here you emphasized all your praises with a kiss on the lips.

"You are capable. Intelligent. Strong. Determined. Have an indomitable will. Patient. Handsome. Resourceful. Deadly. Sexy" you giggle and beam when you notice a soft hint of a smile at the corners of Michael's mouth. You continue. "A good listener. Fast learner. Great with your hands. An exceptional lover" at this, Michael squeezes your hips.

You're not left to wonder if Michael had taken to heart any of what you said when he leaned in for a comforting, chaste kiss on your lips, his hands firm on your hips. The kiss deepens and Michael swipes his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You oblige and the kiss growe fervent and needy. Your hands fist into his soft curls and the both of you sigh when the kiss ends.

You stare into his good eye and smile, panting and happy. "Do you feel better Mikey?"

Michael stares at you for a long moment before giving you a small nod. He reaches for his mask once more and places it over his head.

"Good. Your favourite dessert is sitting in the kitchen."

At hearing this, Micahel unceremoniously dumps you onto the bed, swiftly stands and walks briskly out the door.

"My pleasure? I guess?" You shake your head and smile before following after him.

@megangovier20

Hope this is to your liking.

I know you asked for a short fic but you should know by now short an I do not exist in the same universe.

#michael myers #peepaw michael myers #peepaw myers #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #halloween ends #halloween kills #slasher #slasher lover #slasher fandom #slasher community

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marksbear · 1 year

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing well, and I was wondering two things: if I could be 🏴‍☠️ anon and if you would be willing to make a part 3 for Spencer Reid x unsub reader? Sorry for bothering you if not, and I hope you have a good day/night!

Hey! I hope you're doing well as well! And yes you can be 🏴‍☠ and yes I would be glad to make a part 3. And the link for the babes who didn't read the other parts.

I can't stress enough that you go read the 1st part. But don't mind my old shitty writing.

Warnings! Gaslighting, manipulation, two face reader, unsub reader, gore, killing, cutting open, human organs/guts and fish guts, toxic reader, ooc Spencer.

SPENCER REID X UNSUB MALE READER

Spencer watched Y/n from afar watching him as he worked on the beautiful sea creature. The star fish to be exact. Spencer wondered how Y/n could be the K/n. He was so gentle and kind to others.

But sadly Y/n already confessed to him and everything, but Spencer couldn't see it. He couldn't see Y/n killing fish and putting their cuts inside human beings.

He couldn't see Y/n doing the horrible killings.

As Spencer was in deep thought Y/n looks up from the star fish that was currently sticking onto his hand.

"Why..." Spencer says before realization hits him and before he could take back what he said Y/n beats him to it.

"Why what?" Y/n questions with a eyebrow raised before gently taking the star fish off his hand and back into the tank.

"It's nothing." Spencer says desperately trying to change the subject. "No... Why what Spencie?" Y/n says moving away from the tank inching closer to Spencer.

"N-no uhm. It's an uncomfortable question." Spencer says trying to push past the conversation.

"No. Thats such nonsense. Ask away." Y/n says giving a trusting smile. Spencer would had folded and melt for the kiss if he didn't knew what was behind that mask.

"Why...Why do you kill people in horrible ways? You brutally murder them first then after that you cut open their stomach before taking out almost every single organ inside and replace it with fish guts. A-and sometimes for fun you'll mail the fish heads and human heads to random places---" Spencer rant gets cut off by a fast hand with Y/n curving his mouth tightly.

"That's enough. I don't want my pretty boy to think of my victims. It makes me jealous..." Y/n says with a light tease. Spencer pushes Y/n hand away.

"Stop trying to flirt your way out of this." Spencer says.

"Fine... To answer your question it's because I love the fame. Everybody across America knows who I am. And I take out human guts and replace them with fish guts because it's a statement." Y/n answers with a sick smile growing on his face.

"What Statement are you trying to make exactly?" Spencer questions.

"That even with a whole different organ system. People are still assholes on the inside." Y/n answers. Spencer couldn't tell if Y/n was joking or either dead serious.

"So you don't have a deeper meaning as to why your K/n."

"Like I told you. I love the fame. You yell out K/n and everybody knows who exactly that is. Unlike my regular Marine biologist job. I find a new breed of fish no one gives a shit and that somebody else can just take my credit. With this nobody can be me. No one can just brush me off." Y/n says with his smirk becoming more and more twisted.

"So I just lied and risked my whole career over your little obsession for fame!" Spencer blurts out after everything starts to play in his mind.

"No baby... You risked it all for me. You know that somebody could never love you like how I do. You can't find somebody like me. You know how much I love and care for you, so please don't leave me." Y/n says as he moves his hands to both side of Spencer cheeks.

This time Spencer was aware that Y/n was just trying to manipulate him. But still Spencer couldn't shake off the words.

Spencer recognized the sweet lies Y/n was telling him. But he couldn't help but to feel bad and that he was in the wrong for bringing this up.

"P-please... Don't rat me out. Don't leave me. I promise i'll change. I swear." Y/n begs with sorrow with his eyes beginning to water.

As more and more words Y/n spoke the more the genius believed. For a genius Y/n was surprised he would fall for his words. But a bit more gas lighting and manipulation Spencer was all Y/n's.

"Spencie you know if they find out who I am they're gonna give me death. You're the only one who knows the real me. So if you go and tell you be the one who actually murdered me." Y/n coo's as he pulls Spencer close so their heads are resting against each other.

"And that means you will remember me and what you did for the rest of your life. But I don't want my doctor to be traumatized so let's try to avoid that outcome."

In a flick of a switch Y/n was the one acting like hes the victim.

With a few more words that was lased with lies Y/n pulls Spencer completely in kissing Spencer.

As Spencer melts into the kiss all of his previous thoughts were out the window.

Y/n wraps his arms around Spencer's waist pulling him closer. Spencer wraps his arms around Y/n's shoulders kissing him back.

Y/n pulls away slowly with his head resting against Spencer's own forehead.

"Tell me that you won't leave me. Tell me that you love me Spencer."

"I won't leave you I swear! I love you and only you!."

"I know."

THE END

#spencer reid #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #x unsub reader #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

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phantom-dc · 1 year

Text

Dad Hood - part 8

‘So, he just showed up in your appartement?’

Tim was still confused how Danny ended up in Jason’s care. At least he wasn’t the only one, as Jason still doesn’t know either. And of course this was the one thing Danny’s memory kept failing him on.

‘I told you, one moment I was alone, and the next he was just sitting on the floor. I don’t know how he didn’t set off any alarms.’

The brothers were both looking at Danny, who was playing with his stuffed bunny, none the wiser to their conversation. That was boring adult stuff, and the adventures of Mr. Bun-Bun were much more interesting.

‘You don’t think he could’ve teleported inside, do you?’

Jason took another swing of his beer. ‘Honestly, the kid pulls a new power out of his ass every other day. If he did, it wouldn’t surprise me.’

They were waiting. Tim had convinced Jason that they needed go talk to Talia and get more information from her. The DNA-test wasn’t as useful as Jason had hoped, but knowing for certain that Talia was involved gave them a new lead to follow. Tim had managed to find out which LoA base Talia was in at the moment, but that had left one problem to figure out.

‘How long do you think it’ll take for him to get here?’

There was no way Jason was bringing Danny along to a LoA base. Apart from the obvious dangers like the ninja’s, Jason didn’t want Danny anywhere near a Lazarus Pit. The kid had enough of that stuff in his system as is. Knowing Danny, he’d say something about spicy soup and slurp the whole thing up with a straw! Well, maybe not, but it wouldn’t surprise Jason if that did happen.

‘Should be any moment now. It’s only 3 days, can’t take that long to pack a suitcase for that.’

So in short, Tim and Jason were leaving for the LoA base, and Danny stayed here. That meant:

‘Hey, I’m here! What’s the emergency? Where are we going?’

Nightwing climbed through the window behind Tim and Jason. Dragging a suitcase clumsily through the window, he toppled over once it popped through. The noise had startled Danny, who had promptly gone invisible.

‘Hey, Dick! Glad you could finally make it.’ Tim stood up from the couch to help Dick up.

‘Yeah, yeah. In case you didn’t know traffic out of Blüdhaven is always the worst. Plus I had to change out into my suit on the way. So, what’s the problem. Must be pretty serious if Tim was willing to cash in his blackmail.’ Dick stretches his legs, before dropping down on the couch as well.

Jason stands up and gathers the supplies he had set out. ‘We’re having a bit of a problem with my case. So we’re heading to Egypt, where Talia is setting up another LoA base and interrogate her.’

Dick stands up as well. ‘So, we’re going to Egypt? But you guys told me to bring regular clothes. It sounded like a Gotham mission?’

Tim puts his hand on Dick’s shoulder, pushing him back on the couch. ‘No, Dick. Me and Jason are going to Egypt. You’re staying right here.’ Tim took his own bag and headed to the window.

Dick was now very confused. ‘Hold on. You’re cashing in your blackmail and pulled me all the way from Blüdhaven, just so I could house-sit for Jason?’

Jason smirked. Knowing instinctively where Danny was, he picked the invisible boy up and turned back to Dick. Tickling the kid to make him drop his invisibility, Jason showed Danny to Dick.

‘Nope! Not house-sitting. You’re baby-sitting!’

That had been 3 nights ago. Dick was looking at the kid. It had been just three nights. Three nights! And Dick was already at his wits end. Danny was a meta, and a wild one! No, not wild. Just, a lot to handle. Jason had just left him, only leaving a notebook and the food in the fridge! Sure, he had already been tired. He had just finished a case, but not yet had the time to rest. Danny had immediately jumped on Dick, asking all sorts of questions.

‘Uncle Dick, what are these?’

Dick immediately rushed to get his Ecrisma sticks out of the 5-year-old’s hands.

‘Those are my weapons. Don’t touch them, they are very dangerous!’

He swears this kid has the survival instinct of a hamster. Knives, sockets, if it was dangerous Danny wanted to know all about it. And he was the type of kid that wanted to touch EVERYTHING.

‘Uncle Dick, why do you dress like that?’

Now that was uncalled for. His clothes were just fine. He wasn't even wearing his uniform, just regular clothes! Maybe the superman logo on his hoodie threw the kid off?

‘This is just my hoodie. I just like Superman, that’s all.’

Dick hadn’t even gotten the time to skim the notebook. Instead he had asked Danny about his allergies, likes and dislikes. That’s probably all that was in there anyway. As long as he didn’t poison the kid everything would be fine.

‘Uncle Dick, what does daddy do for a job?’

Dick rubbed his temples. How does he tell that to a kid? At the end of the day, Jason has killed a lot of people, and still does.

‘He- uh, he puts bad people in the ground.’

Ok, he shouldn’t have said that. Luckily it didn’t seem like Danny dwelled on it too much. Now, if Dick could just get him to sleep, then maybe Dick could-

‘Uncle Dick, what is this?’

Rushing to pull his grappling hook out of Danny’s hands, Dick knew he needed a plan. Danny was most likely bored. With that white hair and glow that Dick had noticed when he turned the lights off, Danny most likely hadn’t been able to leave the appartement. The kid must be climbing up the walls. That gave Dick an idea that hopefully allow Danny to burn off some excess energy.

‘Uncle Dick, when will da-’

‘Hey Danny, do you want to go somewhere fun?’

Thinking no one would be here in the middle of the night, Danny and Nightwing arrived at the playpark. Due to Danny glowing and being an obvious meta, Dick had opted for wearing his Nightwing uniform and giving Danny a spare domino mask. Danny immediately flew to the slide. Seeing that Danny was more than happy to just play, Nightwing sat down on a bench. He was exhausted.

Why had Jason not warned him the kid was a meta? Dick couldn’t take his eyes off Danny for a second! Danny would fly up only to drop down, so Dick needed to catch him. If Danny had too much sugar he would fly around the appartement with breakneck speed, making Dick pray he didn’t fly into something. If Danny didn’t want to go to bed, he’d turn invisible and Dick would be searching for hours! Right as he was finally relaxing a bit, Dick suddenly heard a sound he and his family were acutely aware off.

‘Help!’

Knowing someone was in trouble, Nightwing knew he had to help. But he had to watch Danny! Seeing Danny happily play, he made a decision. One he knew he was going to regret.

‘Danny, I need to go and help someone. Promise me that you’ll stay right here, ok? I’ll be right back!’

Danny gave him a thumbs up, and kept playing with Mr. Bun-Bun on the slide. Nightwing ran to the source of the scream, leaving Danny in the park. He could do this, it’s only be a minute!

Danny was looking at Nightwing leaving, when he noticed something in the other direction. Promise forgotten, he got up and was determined to make a new friend tonight.

A few minutes later, Nightwing was running back. Just a stupid mugger trying to steal a lady’s handbag. He could’ve let the police handle it, but that’s the beauty of hindsight. It didn’t matter, he was almost back at the playpark. Almost back to-

‘Danny?’

Danny was nowhere to be found.

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#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc #red hood #jason todd #dp au #nightwing #dick grayson #red robin #tim drake #dad jason #dad hood

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blue-slxt · 10 months

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Two Can Play

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: So this is my first Lo'ak fic and I'm really hoping it came out well. It's a little shorter than the other chapters since this one is really just to introduce the premise. Huge thanks to @pandorxxx for the inspiration. If you haven't read her Search & Rescue series, you should absolutely check it out. All characters are aged up.

Next Part

Pairing: Lo'ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Smut, P in V (really quickly), Sexual Tension, that should be it for this chapter

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You have a reputation for getting around, but there is one person you refuse to give in to. What happens when you both make a bet to see who will fall for the other first?

“Ooooh fuck, Tetxi!” you moan as your head falls back reveling in your third orgasm of the night. He held on to your hips rocking them back and forth wanting to reach his own release.

“Shit, I’m so close!” he says through gritted teeth. That was your cue to hop off and finish him off with your hand. He groans at the loss of contact with your warmth, but he’s quickly thrown back into his pleasure with the touch of your skillful strokes. After only 3 quick pumps, his hot seed spilled all over your hands. Too easy. Beads of sweat trailed down the sides of his face as he tried to catch his breath.

While he’s still regaining his composure, you’re already getting your clothes back on.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks half-jokingly.

“Well, it is time for dinner.” You tie your top together behind your back wanting to leave this conversation quickly. Tetxi swings his legs around to stand up, “Here, I’ll go with you.”

Sheesh, not this situation again. “That’s okay. I’m a big girl, I can go by myself.”

His face drops, “So that’s it? We just fuck and then you’re running off?”

You internally roll your eyes struggling to keep your patience, “Look, it’s not that big of a deal. We just did what we came here to do and we had fun and now it’s done.”

You make sure that your loincloth is tightly secured around your hips and take your leave bidding him a swift and short ‘bye!’.

You walk through the gathering crowd looking for your best friend, Ako. You spot her signature half-up, half-down braids off to the side and run up behind her to throw your arms around her, “Found you!”

She jumps and squeals in shock at first before realizing it’s you. “Eywa, you nearly scared the life out of me!” a laugh laces through her words. She cocks her eyebrow at you, “So how was your night?”

“Average. Tetxi was fun and he got the job done, but ultimately, nothing really special.” You shrug your shoulders recounting the event.

This was a regular occurrence. You had a bit of a reputation in the clan for getting around. You didn’t let it bother you since it was true and you felt no real shame about it. You were young and trying new things. What was so wrong with that? There would be plenty of time for settling down and having a family later, but that was nothing you really needed to concern yourself with right now. Especially with so many attractive males in your clan, how were you supposed to choose just one right now? It only made sense to try them out before you made a final decision, didn’t it? They say that no man will want to take a mate who’s been passed around so much, but as far as you’re concerned, the right guy for you won’t care. Who cares if other people don’t like it? It’s not their choice. That’s why Ako was your best friend, she never judged you for your decisions. She was clear that your lifestyle wasn’t for her, but she respected your way of doing things. What more could you really ask for than that?

You had to admit, though, it was starting to get old. You had gone through all your top picks, second choices, backup plans, and even the drunk picks. Most of them were nice enough, but a lot of them just wanted to see if the rumors about you were true and were delighted when they found out they were. The real issue was that about half of them always wanted something more. They would want to see you more often, they would get possessive over you and your time, or they would ask you to be their girlfriend. You had clear boundaries around your escapades, though. You weren’t going to be their girlfriend, there was no pillow talking, no saying the L word, and absolutely no cumming inside of you.

There was really only one boy in the whole clan that you were insistent on not sleeping with.

“Don’t look now, but your favorite guy is coming this way” Ako jokingly nudges your shoulder.

You roll your eyes and groan already knowing who it was without even turning around. A big slender arm drapes itself around your shoulders, “Hello ladies.” He coos.

“Hello Lo’ak.”

Ako grins playfully at your expression.

“Aw don’t be like that, sevin.” His fingers find your chin to guide your face to his, “When are you gonna stop giving me the cold shoulder and let me actually make you feel good?”

This was also a regular occurrence. If anybody’s reputation rivaled yours, it was definitely Lo’ak. He had run through just about every girl in the clan at least twice. As the Olo’eyktan’s son, he got away with it. People didn’t judge him the way they did you. It drove him crazy that you were the only girl he couldn’t smooth talk his way into her cloth and you enjoyed having that kind of power over him.

You playfully lean your face into his and glance down at his lips, “In your wet dreams, Lo’ak.” You make sure to say his name extra sensually just to fuck with him. He feigns a pained look on his face. As much as it drove him crazy that you wouldn’t fuck him, it also drove him crazy. He liked this little game you two played. It just made him want you more. He loved a challenge. The other girls that would willingly fall at his feet were no real fun for him. He used to love how easily girls would flock to him, but he grew bored of it.

“Come on, Ako, let’s go grab some meat before it’s all gone.” You use your tail to gently push Lo’ak off of you as you intertwine your arm with your best friend and walk away. Lo’ak can’t help but lick his lips at the way your hips sway from left to right when you walk. You may or may not have done that purposefully to tease him a little more.

Dinner carried on per usual. At one point, you did catch Tetxi glaring at you through the crowd. He was upset and that was understandable. He wanted something more with you; something emotional, but that wasn’t going to happen. There wasn’t anything wrong with him, he would make a good mate for anyone, just not you. He wasn’t your perfect fit. From the look on his face, you figure he wouldn’t want anything to do with you for a while, so you make a mental note to yourself to take him off the roster.

It wasn’t necessarily that you kept a steady rotation. More often than not, the guys would approach you first. It did make you feel just the tiniest bit guilty hurting his feelings, though. Oh well, that was neither here nor there at this point.

…

The next day, you offered to help Ako gather fruit in the forest.

“I just don’t get it. A lot of the guys you’ve been with weren’t even half as handsome as Lo’ak and he clearly likes you. So, you won’t fuck him because….?” Ako questions.

“Because…” you continue for her, “Lo’ak doesn’t like me; he barely knows me. He likes the idea of having me just like Tetxi, Rokew, Veki, Pxayul, and a ton of others. They all want to be ‘the one to change me’ and that’s not going to happen. Besides, there’s no way Lo’ak could handle me.”

“Wanna bet?” his voice chimes in through the bushes. He walks through the foliage to the clearing where you two were.

Here we go again. Ako smiles and raises her eyebrows at you, “I think I saw some yovo fruit over there that was ripe. I’m gonna go grab those.” She walks off to give you both some privacy. You silently curse her for leaving you alone with him.

“You spying on me now?” you shift your weight to one side and rest your basket on your hip.

“Not spying, just happened to be strolling by and heard you running that pretty little mouth of yours.” His smirk is smug as all hell. “I think it’s cute that you think I couldn’t keep up with you.”

“Sweetheart, I know you couldn’t and I don’t feel like making you fall in love with me.” you’re even more smug than he is.

He gets closer to you, “Care to test that theory out?” he walks in a slow circle around you eyeing your body up and down.

You don’t make any attempt to stop him. Let him see what he couldn’t have. “What exactly did you have in mind?” You couldn’t deny that your curiosity was piqued.

He comes back around to your front looking down at you cocking his head to the side. “It’s simple. We challenge each other to see who falls first. First one to cave has to admit defeat.”

Taking one step forward, your chest presses against his, “You’re on.”

He leans his lips down to your ear, “Oh, yawne, you have no fucking idea what you’re in for.” He presses a quick kiss to the shell of your ear. It makes your core tremble, but you knew better than to let that show, especially to Lo’ak. Your poker face was unbeatable. When he pulls back to look at your face, you hold a sly smirk on your face. “You’re gonna have to do better than that…” you reach around to stroke to base of his queue, “yawne.” You whisper the last word.

You could see the way his body reacted to your touch. His jaw clenched and he huffed out a big breath. You had this in the bag.

You push him back with your hand on his chest, “I had better get going. These fruits aren’t gonna harvest themselves.” He steps back still looking over your body flashing the tips of his canines when he smiles, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Maybe.”

You set of into the same direction Ako went, fighting the urge to turn and look at Lo’ak’s face. You could practically feel the way his eyes bore into the back of your body, but you have to uphold your appearance of indifference. You can’t help the smile that creeps its way onto your face.

Ako notices the look on your face and is surprised to see a pleasant smile instead of your usual exasperation that you wore after an interaction with Lo’ak. “What is that face?”

“What face? There is no face. This is just my face.” You try to sound as aloof as you can.

“Mhmmm” she knew better than to believe you, but she also knew you’d tell her in due time.

You both continue to harvest until your baskets are full and it’s time to head back to Home Tree. You had some free time so you both decide to stick around and help prepare the food for dinner. Lo’ak is standing around talking with his brother and some of their friends. He looks over at you often. And when you would catch him looking, he would shoot you a wink and you’d shake your head to yourself turning your attention back to what you were working on. Ako catches these little interactions you two have and her eyebrows come together in confusion while she’s trying to put the pieces together.

“Okay, what the hell is going on? What happened in the forest?” she finally asks you straight out.

Ako was observant and you knew you wouldn’t be able to get something this big past her.

“Just a little wager that we have going on. He thinks that I’ll fall for him before he falls for me. But this is already a done deal as far as I’m concerned.”

She eyes you for a moment processing the new information. A smile breaks out on her face. “If you don’t think you’ll fall, then why does your tail keep swishing when he looks at you?”

You scoff, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh, come on. I know you well enough to know that your tail only moves like that when you’re actually happy.”

Your ears flatten against your head suddenly acutely aware of your body movements, “Don’t you have more vegetables to chop?”

She raises her hands in mock surrender and goes back to what she was doing.

Once it’s time for dinner, you sit with Ako as usual and right on time, Lo’ak approaches you. “Mind if I join?” the question is for both of you, but his eyes are focused on you.

“We don’t mind” you give him a sickeningly sweet smile.

He situates himself right next to you, his knee just barely touching yours. The slight brush of his leg against yours wasn’t lost on you. He’s testing the waters, but it would take more than some fleeting touches to get your attention.

You grab a piece of meat and moan lightly when you place it in your mouth. “Mmh…it’s so good tonight.” You act like you’re casually talking to Ako, but Lo’ak’s eyes snap to your face at the noise you made. And he watches intently when you lick the flavor slowly from your fingers. This was too easy. It’s harder to stifle your own laugh than it is to get in his head.

Ako sits on the other side of you enjoying the little show you two are providing her with. She decides to help stir the pot a little.

“Hey Lo’ak, could you pass me that bowl next to you?” she gestures to a small bowl of fruit next to him. He grabs it and passes it to her behind you. His hand runs across the small of your back when he pulls his hand back and his touch leaves goosebumps on your skin in its wake. You shake the hair out of your face trying to fight back the shudder in your body. You see how Lo’ak smiles to himself next to you and you continue to eat your food trying to look unphased.

You both continue on like this for the rest of the dinner. When it’s time to return home, Lo’ak offers to walk you back and Ako nearly pushes you into his arms accepting the offer for you. You shoot daggers at her with your stare, but she just giggles back at you before walking off into the direction of her own home.

Walking back home with Lo’ak is full of a lot of silence, but it’s not an awkward silence. You wonder how long this little game of yours will carry on for. If you were being honest, you gave him maybe a week or two at most until he was completely head over heels for you. There was no way you were losing this. If for no other reason, you were one of the most stubborn people you knew. Once you set your mind on something, there’s no getting you out of it.

You come out of your thoughts just in time to realize that you’ve reached your home. Lo’ak turns to face you and dramatically gestures to your tent, “We have arrived.”

“Oh, why thank you, sir” you say equally as dramatic making you both laugh.

You start to walk towards the opening, when he speaks again.

“Do I get a reward for getting you home safe? I mean I protected you from tripping on all those loose branches and everything.” He teases.

You roll your eyes playfully and slowly walk up to him. “Oh, I’m just so grateful,” You coo. You rest your hand on his chest and lift yourself up on your toes to just barely brush your lips against his. “I could show you just how grateful I am,” your hand glides down his body to rest at the waistband of his loincloth. You can feel how his breath fans your face just a little faster. A smile pulls on your lips. “Good night, Lo’ak.”

You fall back onto your heels and walk into your tent. Lo’ak stands stunned outside your tent for a little longer than a moment.

It’s now that Lo’ak realizes that he’s really going to have to step it up to get to you. He needs to get creative if he’s going to make any kind of progress. That’s something that he can worry about later, though. Right now, he needs to get back home and take care of his growing bulge while your voice and touch is still fresh in his mind.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #awow #avatar smut #avatar fic #lo'ak #loak #loak x reader #loak smut #loak sully #atwow loak #loak fic #avatar loak #loak fanfiction #avatar twow #atwow #awow smut

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meowza315 · 1 month

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i mean it when i say you might have my fave mike characterization ever with avatar au mike. it's what i love for regular or canon mike and you put it in gay lien form and it's great. I wish more people did it. idk he's... really soft around will and it's clearly so natural for him but to me he also seems confident or suave in other ways even as the newcomer to the world. and i LOVE that for mike. maybe it's his protective instincts i see too? basically I'm saying ...avatar mike is hot 😭 i'm sorry. even the way you sketch him lounging. no wonder will is heart eyes and draping himself into his arms all the time. he seems so at peace with mike and mike looks amazing, there's a difference between the two personalities and i look forward to seeing it every time you post. yeah mike's confidence is attractive uhh well done on making me feel things about gayliens!!!

THANK YOU!!

I love trying to keep them in character as much as I can, but it’s not always 100% possible because of the setting and the whole plot of the AU with how they live in the jungle and Will having to teach Mike about everything so he doesn’t end up dead. It’s not really in character for them to be doing so much physical activity as they are in the AU but it’s inevitable because they live in a jungle, it’s where the Omatikaya live. They have to do all these physical activities to get around and do daily tasks (which ultimately builds muscle on both of them because of it. I mean they’re climbing trees and running around so it makes sense).

idk how he even pulled Will tbh with how “stupid” he is. I say that in quotes cause I say it jokingly. I know he isn’t stupid he’s a smart guy canonically to ST and still is in the AU but Pandora is, even with him being BORN there, a new place. cause he wasn’t allowed to roam the forest with an exo pack at 12 like Spider was. it was for his safety cause he’d probably end up getting mauled by a thanator or a viperwolf and have 0 protection. I mean even then he still nearly dies at least 3 times (which Will makes fun of him for). It’s just more difficult to traverse and get around and get used to, you get me??

idk if I’d be comfortable saying he’s hot because of the fact that he’s still very much based off a character that is 14, even though in the AU they’re both aged up to be 16-19 (for 1: Mike being at least old enough that he’s not gonna get himself in a lot of trouble, he’s mature enough to not make stupid decisions basically. I mean, who’s gonna give 12 year old Mike Wheeler a whole other body that costs well over a million dollars to make? and 2: the story takes place over 3 years so they’re gonna age). he’s definitely attractive I’d say yeah but I’d just say he’s a handsome guy (cough the doodle I did above^^). One of my fears is them being all sexualized because they’re older and don’t really wear that much 😨 like they can be in love and not sexualized in the process if ykwim

I remember writing something about them having a conversation that ended up growing into Will pining over Mike (ex: how he’s a bit clumsy, the way he’s treated by Mike, which is essentially his kindness, how he’s a bit snarky or sassy sometimes, etc) and Mike kissing Will repetitively to satisfy that “longing” Will gets for Mike’s lips. It’s not just his appearance but his personality that draws him in, yk? The way they love each other just makes Will fall so much harder, even if Mike was the one that canonically fell first. I’ve had a thought of how their love language in this AU would be touch because of how they’re constantly touching or holding each other close when they’re in the forest together (and being romantic, not counting when they have conversations and are sitting idk. a foot or two apart. their relationship isn’t ALL kissy kissy romantic, even if it’s what it seems like from how I draw them). but obviously even if their love language is touch it doesn’t automatically mean they’re doing sexual things because.. um. it’s weird. and if they were touching each other in weird sexual ways or in areas that would seem sexual (the ass. no. and like. intimate areas. or even just each others chests in weird ways) both I and other people would be severely uncomfortable by that. they can love each other and be touchy without it being in a sexual way because, I can’t stress it enough, it’s WEIRD.

moral of the story (of that paragraph and the one above it) they can be in love and be the way they are in the AU without worry of being sexualized 🎉

I just ranted a LOT I apologize 💔💔 I would rant more but I think the post is long enough so 😭

#byler #byler au #byler avatar au #avatar au #mike wheeler #michael wheeler #will byers #william byers #stranger things #stranger things au

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another-lost-mc · 3 months

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What abt teen!mc with the CR oc's??

Angel OCs getting some love! <3

I’m including Michael in this (while I cry about his wasted potential).

Michael

He treats teen!MC like any other young angel at first—someone with untapped potential, someone who simply needs a little bit of guidance to find their path.

Chances are teen!MC will remind him of Lucifer or one of his lost siblings somehow (he's a bit sentimental about the whole thing).

He tries not to show them favouritism due to their age, but he ends up spoiling them as much as the other angels do.

He likes teen!MC even more if they have a sweet tooth too - they can have conversations about their favourite human world foods and candy.

He gives teen!MC a bag full of Celestial Realm sweets to take with them when they leave.

Metatron

He's excited to have a young human to talk to - the Celestial library could use some new material and he's always happy for recommendations.

When teen!MC points out the library's sizeable collection of manga and graphic novels, he says they're a tribute to someone he knew that liked reading those types of books.

The library's restricted section is usually off-limits to anyone but Michael and the highest-ranking angels, but he agrees to show teen!MC around when no one else is around to catch them. Most of the texts are in languages that humans can't read anyway, so what's the harm? (Besides, teen!MC pinky-swore not to tell anyone - it's their little secret.)

A surprising number of angels use pseudonyms to write books for the other realms, and he gives them copies of some of the most popular ones. (He can even get teen!MC's copy of TSL signed by the author if they want - he's very nice!)

Gabriel

He's patient and kind when he explains anything and everything that teen!MC could want to know about the Celestial Realm and its angels.

He makes sure that teen!MC's accommodations are comfortable and he insists that he can acquire anything else they might need during their visit.

He's very busy but he takes time out of his schedule to give teen!MC a little welcome tour of the Celestial Halls and the gardens nearby.

He also likes spending his breaks with teen!MC in the gardens or the library. He's very fond of tea and will be excited if teen!MC is too.

He's a little gullible so he nearly believes teen!MC when they tell him they're old enough to drink Celestial wine or spirits.

Teen!MC is free to explore as much as they'd like and if they need anything, he insists that they can ask him or Uriel.

Uriel

No, Gabriel, he doesn't want to babysit some pipsqueak human. Aren't there enough younglings around here?

He basically carries on with his regular duties and is constantly perplexed when teen!MC decides what he does is fascinating.

(He doesn't understand why a human might find duels between angels with their impressive weaponry interesting to watch.)

If teen!MC shows a genuine interest, he'll offer to show them how to hold a sword, or wield a staff, or maybe even a javelin if they prefer - when the younglings are training too, of course.

He denies having any fun at all while teen!MC is around, but the pictures Gabriel takes when he's not paying attention say otherwise.

#my oc: metatron #my oc: uriel #my oc: gabriel #jes.replies #teen!mc

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lark-in-ink · 8 months

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My first job was at the grocery store that my parents shopped at during my entire childhood. I was just thinking about it and it wasn't until after I'd grown up and moved away that I realized it was. Rather Strange Actually.

So I think it was built sometimes in the 1960's, as what the builders assumed was the vanguard of a bold and innovative movement of urban design post highway boom. (Spoiler: it was not.) The highway was in a sunken trench next to the older railroad tracks. And they decided: let's build the grocery store OVER the highway.

I have created this diagram for your viewing pleasure:

So, in a move that would please modern urbanists, the store did come right up to the sidewalk (which in turn was on the edge of the little cluster of commercial development around the commuter rail station). There was a large parking lot next to it also along the sidewalk, but what can you do. The first floor of the building- at least most of the front of it- contained the small retail also beloved of modern urbanists.

In a move that would displease anyone conversant with the ADA act, to get to the actual grocery store, you entered a lobby in amongst the small retail, and were immediately confronted with an escalator going up and stairs going... well, both up and down, but in practice, down. Proceeding to the top of the stairs, you found the shopping carts, which never went outside.

So, you'd proceed with your shopping cart out to the produce section, which extended a fair way over the highway. from there it was a fairly normal grocery store actually. From inside you could not in fact tell that half the building was. Extended over the highway and supported by pillars. But it was.

Anyway. Once you finished your shopping you'd get in a checkout lane. And the cashier would, as normal, ring up your groceries. And the bagger would -- as I thought was a common and ordinary variation within normal until I was about twenty years old-- put your groceries in a sturdy metal bin that held about 3 bags of groceries. Then they would carry each bit over to the conveyor belt which took hem into the Mysterious Hole, and bring back another bin. Each bin was labeled with a three digit number. After you had paid, the cashier would hand you a stack of very sturdy plastic cards with those numbers on them. (They were hefty and pleasant to hold in the hand. A fond sensory memory.)

Then you'd go down the stairs, carrying your cards but no groceries.

Once safely ensconced in your car, you would enter. The Tunnel. Which ran at regular ground level under the grocery store, behind the urbanist-approved-small-retail, with the entrance in the parking lot. There, you would wait in the Car Line. And then, you (whether 'you' was the driver or 'you' was the small child lucky enough to be allowed to sit on the driver's side back seat and be entrusted with the cards, an honor and privilege to be taken in turns) would hand your cards to a strapping young man, who would then find your bins, and load your groceries into your trunk for you. Then you would proceed out of the tunnel on the other side, trigger the warning buzzer as you crossed the sidewalk, and get back on the street.

This was all VERY exciting as a child, but you know. in a normal sort of way. Highpoint of the week, really.

When I was 17 I got a summer job at this grocery store. I was a grocery bagger, which was a position that could NOT be combined with cashier, on account of managing the metal bins and bringing them over to the conveyor belt. At no point during this period of employment was I privy to the Mysteries Of The Hole, though I presume a hidden set of further conveyor belts was involved. I was also not employed in The Tunnel, as I was a minor (and I suspect, as allegedly A Girl, though of course this could not have been official policy in the late nineties and early aughts). I did at last understand that the cards were matched with the bins by the simple expediency of the strapping young men putting the matching card back in the bin before they sent them on the presumable Up Conveyor Belts.

When I was 19 and doing a share of the grocery shopping alone for the first time, I discovered first hand how incredibly untenable this system was when you did not have a driver's license. Seriously, I had SO much cargo room on my bike but I could only buy as much groceries as I could carry down the stairs at one throw. Super annoying.

I haven't been back in at least fifteen years. I wonder if they have self-service checkout lanes and how the fuck the system works with that. The area's gone from 'fairly well off neighborhood' to 'this area is inhabited by the fuckoff rich' so maybe they just adequately staff their checkout lanes and charge out the nose for it idk. Perhaps someday I will return just to find out, but probably not.

I still do drive under the produce section from time to time though.

#go to bed lark you're drunkw

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paradoxcase · 5 months

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Chapter 3 of Nona the Ninth

Huh, so:

I guess this is definition 7, then. I've never heard that word used to refer to a person before, but it's not marked as being regional

So Nona looks old enough that people are fine with hitting on her, but not old enough that anyone thinks she's graduated from middle school. This is not a fun fact

Also, this school has "almost 20 children", this is like a one-room schoolhouse from the 19th century except it's in the middle of New York City for some reason, what even

I mean, is it really that hard to pimp out Augustine? If she'd said "I'd have had better luck pimping out Mercy" that would have been something, but maybe it actually is easier to pimp out Nona and Camilla than it is to pimp out Mercy

Can Camilla and Palamedes have regular conversations with each other? Very curious as to how that might work

Quasi-telepathic abilities sounding more and more likely

There's been descriptions of it being hot, and I'm not sure if a) it's just summer, and that's what summer is like wherever New Rho happens to be, or b) this planet is just hotter than Earth by virtue of being closer to the sun or having a naturally thicker atmosphere, or c) some kind of climate change is happening here

It sounds like she has some still-repressed memories of learning this stuff?

So they live in basically a cop building, and Pyrrha did say that one of their neighbors is a cop and another one has militia connections, so I'm guessing they are probably being specifically kept there by BOE or some other entity because of their Nine Houses connection, and Camilla doesn't want Nona telling people where they live because people might infer that based on the building?

Given that a lot of people here don't speak each other's languages, I wonder how much of this is just another culture's kinship system being mistranslated into whatever language the kids are using. Like, Brother Father and Younger Brother Father sound like they're probably uncles, Eldest Father could be a grandfather, and New Father could possibly be a step-father

I mean, first of all, Palamedes has been living here for a while, I think he should be used to BOE (or whatever you want to call this culture) names by now, but also, Honesty is a perfectly fine name. Like, Wake's name was silly, Hot Sauce is a silly name, We Suffer And We Suffer and Crown Him With Many Crowns are at least fairly odd from an English-language naming standpoint, and many of our common names are borrowed from ancient languages and don't mean anything in regular conversation, but we totally 100% also name people things like Grace and Faith and Hope and Joy and Harmony and Prudence and Felicity and Constance and I'm sure there's plenty of cultures where boys are named this way too and Honesty is a perfectly fine and reasonable name. While we're at it, Beautiful Ruby and Born in the Morning are also pretty good names? The only thing odd about these names is that we're not used to seeing them

Anyway, possibly the kids are speaking some non-House language (or are at least named in non-House languages) and Nona is translating their names into House for this conversation? It's a little odd in that case that she's not translating "Kevin" at least in the narrative text, since Kevin is just an anglicization of Irish Caoimhín which means "of noble birth" in Irish. But if Nona's language abilities are based on some sort of telepathic sense, she might fail to translate Kevin's name because Kevin doesn't know Irish? Irish seems unlikely to have survived the apocalypse, at any rate

She definitely can lie, though, she successfully lied and told the teachers at the school that Camilla was her sister and Pyrrha was a friend of her father's and that she had been through many resettlements, didn't she? She just doesn't seem to know on her own when she should be lying and when she shouldn't be

There are some implications for how language is being processed for someone who really can't lie, basically the science fiction premise of Embassytown by China Miéville, and in that book the aliens who could not lie also had an empathetic aspect to how they understood language. But I don't think Muir knows enough about linguistics to write that kind of linguistics science fiction

Is this why Nona's legs are sore, she is running around with these young kids all day and having trouble keeping up?

Very curious if this is actually some kind of possibly war-related movement of things through the underground tunnels, or if this is just a vernacular name for something else

So BOE is recruiting children on this planet to join their militia, and they are also executing necromancers here by burning them to death

It's kind of funny that Honesty is calling her stupid here - he knows there are spies who are necromancers and/or zombies, and Nona is in fact a necromancer (or used to be one at one time) and she also lives with Palamedes for that matter, but it doesn't occur to Honesty that there is actually a chance that Nona or someone she lives with could be one of the spies

So this is what they call the resurrection beast? Except we know that resurrection beasts don't come for regular necromancers, or else they would be all over the Nine Houses, they only come for Lyctors. I guess it's entirely possible that this one could be here for any of Nona, Pyrrha, or Camilla/Palamedes, or it could just be here to eat a living planet because that's what they do. I wonder if the mythology of these people is that the resurrection beasts are like God's punishment for necromancy or something, it seems like Hot Sauce believes that to be the case, at least. Possibly it's not completely wrong, depending on what the relationship was between the deaths of the nine planets and the occurrence of necromancy

#the locked tomb #nona the ninth

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incorrectmarvelquotesss · 1 year

Text

— night’s kisses —

Warnings: strong language, slight mentions of bullying / rape / death / car crash / suicide / pregnancy (nothing graphic), talks of PTSD (Bucky's mostly), fluff, angst, sexual themes/innuendos

Summary: Steve and you are working on a project together: Project Restore.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: ~9.2k

A/N: SECOND ONESHOT IN A WEEK AND THE LONGEST ONESHOT I’VE EVER WRITTEN. Honestly, I don’t know when I started this (oops) and where I was supposed to go with it. Halfway through I decided to become like Shakespeare or something and it ended up a lot longer than it should’ve been. Anyway, I hope you guys like this! ( Also I feel like a genius for coming up with a good title and then the ending <3 )

You knew how the world worked and how people treated each other from a young age. Your parents had told you everything from the beginning, not believing in sugarcoating anything. You knew that people could pass a crime scene with zero emotion and spread rumours that could end in serious consequences. You knew that people lurked in the dark, waiting to prey on innocent souls. You weren’t stupid and knew how the world worked.

You saw everything unfold in front of you as you got older. The way students would gossip about the younger and more vulnerable kids while their friends laughed with them. You heard the whispers pass among the halls about the boy who peed his bed in grade four. You saw him leave the school in tears, trying and failing to stop the rumours from spreading in the school. You heard the whispers in high school about the girl who slept with the jock and ended up pregnant. You saw her casket lower to the ground and the police announced it was suicide.

You left your home to live in Manhattan, hoping to make the world a better place by working with Stark Industries and the Avengers. Your parents always told you that you had an eye on everything good in the world. They told you it was what made you a good person. But you always kept an eye on the bad, thinking of what could be done to make it disappear. It wasn’t that you didn’t see the bad, you just saw everything more clearly than others.

The boy who peed his pants had been in a car accident, resulting in a concussion in his brain. That concussion deprived him of doing regular, day-to-day activities. You knew because you had talked to him after everything that had happened and he was glad that someone was listening. He moved, but you were happy to get his side of the story.

The girl who committed suicide was raped and that ended in her getting pregnant. Her parents had told you everything about her; her excellent grade, her hobbies, her friends and family. They were glad that you listened to them and trusted them. When you asked about what the police did to the jock, they told you that they didn’t have the proof. The jock was arrested a few days later and the parents were glad their daughter got justice. They didn’t need to know that it was you who got evidence against him.

“Miss Y/S?” FRIDAY spoke into the room. You hummed, burning two wires together and turning to face the computer again. “Captain Rogers is waiting for you in the lounge to discuss Project Restore.”

“Tell him I’m a bit busy right now,” you said absentmindedly, the response almost automatic now. You and Steve were trying to restore Bucky’s memories—Shuri got rid of the trigger words and Steve had told her that that was enough. In an attempt to restore Bucky’s past memories, you had told Steve you had to recreate the chair.

There was no other way the conversation was going to end. Steve argued and argued, throwing everything right at your face while you listened with a stoic face. You knew Bucky would be petrified of the chair, but you were hoping he would associate it with something better. Something like getting his past life back. Maybe Bucky would look back at the chair and smile slightly because it gave him the old memories back. But Steve was having none of it, even if Bucky had given the green.

“Captain Rogers insists that you come up now,” FRIDAY said after a few seconds. You shook your head, typing in codes and glancing at the robot you were working on. It was supposed to help with young children’s mental health by listening and analyzing their behaviour and giving the reports to doctors.

“Tell him I insist I’m busy.” You started retyping the code, seeing that the robot had knocked a few things down.

“Captain Rogers is persistent.” FRIDAY seemed tired of passing messages among messages between the two of you. You shrugged and didn’t reply back, focusing on the codes rather than the captain. He had to get his head out of his ass if he wanted to talk to you. “Captain Rogers has requested access to Project Restore files.”

“Access denied,” you deadpanned, hearing the loud swearing and footsteps coming down to your lab. You held back the smirk as you turned your chair around and watched Steve punch in the code you had given him all those months back, stalking in with a scowl on his face. “Need something, Rogers?”

“You know exactly why I’m here,” he hissed, pulling out a chair and taking a seat at a table full of prototypes. You hummed and crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair as you studied his posture. He sighed and ran a hand down his face, sinking down in the chair more. “I wanna say sorry for how I acted. I just—I really want to protect him and giving him back to the chair…” Steve shook his head and sunk further down, making himself look smaller. Something tugged in your heart.

“I know,” you whispered, getting up and starting to organize some things. You looked at him again, patting his head as you moved past him to put some files on the shelf. You saw him glance at you in surprise at the gesture, but you ignored it because you did that to almost everyone in the compound. He just wasn’t ever at the receiving end.

“If you knew, why did you suggest it?” Steve asked when you sat back down at the computer and started to save and delete things.

“I want him to remember just as much as you do, Rogers,” you replied, swinging your legs so that the chair faced him again. “He’s a friend. And a human, like the rest of us. I know he’s been through a lot and that includes the chair. I’ve seen him here with cuts and bruises, telling me that the medical wing reminds him too much of that time. He hates the white coats, the needles, the tubes, and the smell of medications. I know what you know, Rogers. Maybe, just maybe, a bit more.”

“So,” Steve started, taking a bit of a calculated breath, “you mean that you did that on purpose?” You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Sometimes the best way to get rid of your fears is to be exposed to them,” you said, intertwining your hands and placing them on your lap. “It might not always work, but Barnes wants to try. So who are we to say no?”

“He’s stubborn, Y/N,” Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s so stubborn that he’ll have a panic attack instead of asking you to stop.”

“I never said we need to tell him everything about the procedure.” You shrugged innocently, a glint in your eyes. Steve raised an eyebrow. “It’s unethical, but it’ll keep him safe.”

Steve thought about it for a second before he said, “Fine. What’re you thinking?”

“We’ll monitor his heart rate and anytime it seems like he’s going to have a panic attack, we stop.”

“Won’t he figure it out? He’s not stupid.”

“Not if we tell him it could overpower and fry his brain.” Steve started laughing at your mischievous tone. You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing as well.

“Thought you were a doctor.”

“Unethical, but practical. At least I think so. After all, I am a human first.”

“I’d hope so.” Your eyes narrowed at the response, making him chuckle and shake his head. “I didn’t mean it like that, doc.” You only hummed in response, shrugging and turning around to continue working on the robot. You cut a few wires apart and connected them with one another and then checked your coding, trying to figure out why it was swinging its arms. You felt Steve’s warm breath on your neck, a tickling sensation making you want to sigh.

“What’s this?” He pointed at the robot, an amused tone coming into your hearing. You turned to look at him, feigning an offended look.

“It’s you! Doesn’t it look like you?” You started pointing at the bug-like cameras for eyes and the O-shaped speaker for a mouth. “Look, it has your eyes and mouth. And the rectangle-shaped face too!” You turned your head to look at him with an innocent expression etched on your face.

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he said sarcastically, an unamused face that would make anyone think that he didn’t find it funny. But the glint in his eyes told you that he absolutely loved your sense of humour.

“It’s for all the kids' hospitals. Designed to keep an eye on their vitals and performance so if there’s even the slightest change in anything, the doctors will be notified right away with an app or this watch.” You picked up the watch, waving it slightly, and shrugged. “Hopefully it’ll save some lives.”

“It will.” He said that statement as if it was a fact. It wasn’t. Logically speaking, the robot prototype would take another year or so to be finished and then another year or so to manufacture more if this one worked properly. But you decided to keep his hope up by nodding.

“It’ll work eventually, but until I figure this out,” you started, closing the window and opening up Project Restore, “we can work on this.” You grinned when a groaned fuck escaped his lips.

“I mean, this is crazy,” his voice came out breathy and a hint of something like pride was intertwined with it. You ignored your heart for the moment being.

“If it gets you to swear, Cap,” you teased, flicking through the blueprints and mechanism that you still needed to get. Hopefully, you could call in a favour with Okoye. She owed you from the one time you upgraded her spear—Shuri seemed like she was about to kill you for giving Okoye a reason to poke fun at her.

“I swear,” he said, licking his lips when you turned your head to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, fine, I swear sometimes only. But, jeez, can ya blame me? You’ve really got an eye for these types of things.” He shrugged, a pink tinge blossoming on his cheeks as he averted his eyes from you.

“If that’s what—” you opened up a file with the power source blueprints— “floats your boat, Cap.”

“Please,” Steve started, “call me Steve. I’m not technically a captain if you really think about it.”

“What d’you mean?” You opened up a software and started on the 3-D model of the chair. You honestly didn’t think that Steve would agree to throw Bucky back on the chair, even if it meant that his memories would be restored. The tragedy of James Buchanan Barnes wasn’t unknown in your world, you knew exactly what had happened on the chair from the beginning. Because of that, you hadn’t made a model yet.

“I just went around punching things until they called me captain because of the dumb mascot I was before that.”

“And now that dumb mascot symbolizes America,” you added nonchalantly, earning you a funny look from him. You shrugged again. “I say things the way they are, Steve.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re real, y’know?”

“I’m a ghost,” you deadpanned, head-butting him lightly, almost affectionately, when he scoffed at your statement and rolled his eyes.

“You might be a vampire,” he retorted, yawning as he checked the time on the corner of your computer screen. It was nearly three in the morning and he wondered if you ever got a full night’s rest in the last couple of days. By the looks of you, you didn’t. The way dark circles were forming around your eyes and the way your shoulders slumped, he knew you didn’t. He was determined to get you to sleep before sunrise.

“You saying I suck the life outta you?” You didn’t falter with your quips and he found delight in it, but his mind didn’t sway. Not when it came to your health.

“I think you might be suckin’ the life outta yourself, darlin’.” Your hands stopped ever so slightly before going on to the coding you were working on. “Get some sleep.”

“How about no?” You kept going.

“How ‘bout I just lift ya up ‘n carry ya to your room, huh?” He twisted your chair so that you had no choice but to stop and look at him. “‘S nearing three in the morning.”

“So?” You crossed your arms and moved back, leaning against the chair as your eyes drooped shut for a moment too long now that your eyes weren’t focused on the computer screen. He smirked. “Seriously, I’m fine.”

“Nah, darlin’.” Something about the way darling was rolling off of his tongue made you look at the man in front of you, trying to force you to go rest for your own good. Surely he wasn’t really looking out for you, he was just making sure your mind was in the best place when figuring out the chair for his best friend. It had nothing to do with your health. It was just coming in the way of his best friend’s progress so he had to care for you. Right?

“I’m fine,” you seethed, a gut-churning feeling making you want to scream at Steve, but it wasn’t his fault you didn’t know how to accept help. Especially when it was staring right back at you in the face with baby blues that could melt your heart in mere seconds.

“No, you’re not,” he whispered gently, placing his hands on the armrests and trapping you between his body and the chair. “You need to rest, Y/N. Your body is literally begging for you to sleep and rest, but you keep working. I get that you’re doing amazing things for others, the robot design is awesome, but you need to look after yourself. And, like I said before, I’m ready to carry ya, darlin’.”

“I don’t think so—” You squealed when Steve effortlessly picked you up bridal style. You instinctively wrapped your hands around his arms before swatting at his chest when he grinned smugly. Then you yawned and he stifled his laughter. “You’re not getting away with this, Rogers.”

“Thought you were gonna call me Steve.” Now if you knew better, which you did, you would say he downright pouted at hearing his last name escape your lips.

“You’ve lost the privilege,” you huffed as he started for the stairs. He grinned boyishly and you ignored the slight skip of your heart. Emphasis on the slight. He looked down at you once more, giving you just enough time to fall into his eyes. Maybe it was the green army jacket you were wearing, but his eyes never looked this green to you. Maybe you just never noticed it. You had never noticed the flecks of green that littered the inside of his irises, making his eyes look a light shade of green when there was more green around.

“Do you always stay up so late?” His eyes were back in front of him as he reached the top of the stairs, walking down the hall to get to your rooms. You cleared your throat and mind before you spoke again.

“Maybe. Maybe I just wanted a ride,” you replied easily, the remarks being the only reason you survived through high school and university. “And what’s a better ride than Captain America himself?” Your unintended innuendo slipped past him and you were glad for that for once. You hadn’t thought about it fast enough to catch your slip-up until you said it out loud. Even if Steve caught onto it—which you kind of doubted since he was a man from the 40s—he didn’t let on.

“You’re a menace.” He shook his head, corners of his lips curling to form a soft smile. He knew you were lying. Sort of. You hadn’t answered him completely, but your maybe meant that you hadn’t been getting too much sleep and your little joke there meant you wanted to avoid the conversation. Steve was happy to oblige, leaving the topic and moving on to the other.

“The chair might be ready in a week or two,” you started, eyes darting down to his neck where your hands were. He could feel them moving nervously, a tick that he had noticed before this moment, back when you were new to the facility. “We need a few things. I’ll order them tomorrow since you insist I sleep before working. I’ll also need to talk to Barnes about the machinery, see what he’s comfortable with and not. I think that the chair doesn’t need to look exactly the same, but the similarity between the sketches I’ve made and the sketches of Hydra’s chair are too similar. I need him to be sure that he could handle it.

“Then I might need to get Shuri’s opinion on the amplifier on the power source and check some routing issues that might occur. She also has this AI that allows her to create artificial trails and using that we’ll find out if the machine would work or not. And if so, what the percentage rate of this working is. Then I also need Stark’s to help with the technical building part of it. Not that I’d mess up that badly, but it’s good to have a second pair of eyes. Plus, he’d get a kick out of it. And he’s good at what he does.”

Abrupt silence made his stomach drop slightly, missing the sound of your voice and the vibrations running down his arms at each syllable you spoke.

“Anything else I should know?” Steve asked once you went quiet. You almost looked sheepish when you glanced back up at him, earning a raised eyebrow from him.

“No, I’ve blabbered too much already,” you whispered, your bedroom door and his coming into view. His eyebrows furrowed and a slight frown appeared on his lips as he slowed his pace a few metres away from your bedrooms. You raised an eyebrow at his sudden gestures.

“There’s probably more I need to know,” he said, shaking his head in what seemed like dismay. “I know there’s more, Y/N. Tell me what I’m missin’. Please.”

“You don’t wanna hear me rambling about the boring technical stuff,” you mumbled, tapping your thumb against the hollow of his throat. The gesture made tighten his grip on you, one you could feel through the rough material of the jacket.

“Darlin’, nothing about it was boring,” he reassured you, coming to a stop in front of your bedroom. He didn’t let you down just yet, even when you squirmed as a hint. “I’m serious, Y/N. You do amazing things, and helping Bucky is just one of many, so if I get the chance to hear you talk about it, I’ll hear it. I hear you.”

He slowly lowered you down when you evidently had nothing to say to him. You, for the first time, didn’t know what to say and he was okay with that. A bit surprised, but okay. He realized that his words might have meant nothing to you or maybe, just maybe, meant more than he knew.

With your feet on the ground, you had no reason to have your arms slung around his shoulders. There was no reason his hands should have stayed around your waist to keep you close enough to smell each other’s scent. There was absolutely no reason for you both to stare at each other as his last words lingered in the air and echoed in your head over and over and over again. There was no reason for your hearts to be beating this fast and no reason for your head to spin as you both drew in a deep breath.

But it all happened, all at once in that one moment of time. Everything felt like a fever dream and you both could pretend that it was normal. Normal for you both to be holding onto each other, this close, and having your head spinning and heart beating fast. You both let it happen for that moment.

“Goodnight, Steve,” you breathed out, breaking the second’s silence and letting your hands slide down, lingering slightly as they came down to your sides. His hands lifted off as soon as yours did, but he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered against your skin, his breath warm on your cheek. You shivered ever so slightly and watched him move back, a slight smirk on his face as he nodded at you, walking backwards to lean against his door. You blindly reached for your doorknob and twisted it before turning and swiftly entering, breaking your eye contact with the blond who had left you this flustered. You locked the door out of habit and lifted a hand to your chest, taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart.

It wasn’t like you were the only one with a heart threatening to beat straight out of your chest.

Steve was still out in the hallway, watching your door close with a click and another click following, indicating that your door was now locked. His eyes dropped to the ground, staring at the scruff on his left shoe and wondering about how he had the confidence to go ahead and kiss you goodnight. Sure it wasn’t on the lips, but it was still a kiss and, back in his time, it meant a whole lot more. You did look surprised or shocked, but you didn’t look like you hated him for it or didn’t want him to do it again.

He didn’t plan on doing it anytime soon again, confidence having left him immediately after the unintended kiss on the cheek. He was sure that the confidence wasn’t coming back for a while.

———

A few days passed after that impromptu kiss and your dynamic with Steve was the same as always. It had changed, but not enough for you two to notice. It was tiny changes that led to the noticeable ones—to the team at least; you two were basically in your world.

It started with the excuse of Project Restore. Steve would bring up that anywhere he didn’t want to be. Usually, it was at those meetings that Tony called for the team for team building exercises, which consist of regular activities like Jenga and Monopoly. Those games were intense and, more likely than not, were the reason the team fought. Steve absolutely loathed Monopoly with a burning passion. Anytime Tony brought up the meetings, Steve would run off to meet you in your lab with the excuse of the project. Needless to say, Tony tried to get you involved, but you beat him at Monopoly so he stopped.

Then he would start spending more time with you in your lab than at training with the excuse of lifting heavy parts that you couldn’t. You couldn’t deny the extra help and he could use the lifting as his training. He started teasing you when you couldn’t lift something and he could. You would roll your eyes at him, say something snarky with a glint in your eyes, and smirk as he fumbled with his retort. The glint in your eyes always had him fumbling and flustered. Some days Bucky would drop in to help with the parts and Steve would have to put his teasing on a halt.

The one time he teased you with Bucky around, you pouted and it just about knocked the breath out of him. He knew he was falling for you then, but knew that you couldn’t feel the same. Not with the way you shook your head at him when he did something wrong and told him he was an idiot. Sure, there was a smile on your face, but there was no way you liked him back. You were way out of his league and he was sure that you knew that. That’s why you swatted his hand when he touched your shoulder when you seemed frustrated or gave him a look when he placed a hand on your back while walking upstairs.

Despite all that, he still wanted to be at least your friend. So he started spending even more time around your lab as the process of building the chair came to. He made up the excuse of wanting to be around in case something went wrong or still helping with the larger parts. He had the excuses built up and he was spouting them off whenever someone asked why. He noticed the little ticks that he hadn’t already noticed while you were working. The way you pressed your tongue to your cheek when you wanted your hands to be steady. Or the way you wrinkled your nose when something went wrong or when you laughed too hard.

Your laugh was one of his top three noises. Along with your giggles and voice. You liked to ramble when you didn’t know what to do. Sometimes the answer would be hidden inside your rambles and you would light up when you found the solution. Sometimes you smacked your head with your palm and giggled at your own stupidity, still mumbling about whatever. He always smiled and shook his head, assuring you that you aren’t stupid, far from stupid.

When Shuri gave you back the results, you beamed so brightly and giggled when you flipped the page and showed Steve, starting to ramble about the percentage being 96.87% and way higher than what you thought it would be.

“I knew you could do it, darlin’,” he said, watching you grin widely at him and pull the paper down from his face. He knew he would never get used to the way his heart skipped a beat at your smile. Happiness was literally bursting out of you, seeing the way you glowed at his compliments. You were taking his compliments better now too.

The first time he had complimented you on your work, you had shrugged and said something along the lines of it could’ve been better if it were someone else, maybe at least. He shook his head and insisted that you were amazing at what you were doing, gesturing to the robot and blueprints of the chair along with the new AI you had started. You had merely shrugged again and went back to sketching another model of the chair. You had made three models of the chair before, each carrying the same sort of foundation and structure. You had shown Steve each model, but you wanted him to be the one to show Bucky them.

When Steve had asked why, you simply told him that he was basically Bucky’s brother. He would trust him a bit more than you. Just a tad bit more, but more you had added with a quirky smirk and the same mischievous glint in your eyes. Steve almost leaned down to kiss your smirk away, but caught himself when you turned away with a shake of your head. There was no way you wanted him, not with the way you acted.

“I wonder if I can recalibrate—” You went ahead and started telling him of what you could do to one of your abandoned projects for it to be recycled. That’s something else that he liked about you. You always tried to give something that was thrown away another chance at working for something else. It could be some wires, some boards, or even a giant metal piece, but you always looked through those bins to find something. He liked that a lot about you.

“And can you ask Barnes if this model seems fine?” You finished ranting and turned to look at him with slight disarray and a bit breathless. You licked your dry lips like you always did after talking for a while and shoved a rolled-up blueprint towards him. “It seems the most different out of all the ones we designed.”

We? he wanted to ask. You were the one who did all the work. He merely listened to your carefully instructed orders and made sure to complete them with the highest amount of efficiency he could achieve, which wasn’t as high as he expected you would be able to achieve. He really wanted to stop you from putting yourself down, reaching for what seemed to be the littlest and least important and trivial things and picking them apart for your own negativity. He suspected it was so that you didn’t get too high over your head and stayed more humble than not. Even when you said you were the best in the world or universe at this stuff, anyone could catch onto the joking tone you reserved for statements like those.

Before he could protest against your self-depreciation or even reply to your question, you had moved on to another topic. A topic he didn’t know about really, something to do with your coding and wires and electricity watts. He could have helped you if he was Tony or Shuri, but he was a man out of this time and information. His knowledge of electricity and technology only had advanced so far. You kept going on your little ramble, lips moving at a rapid speed and hands gesturing in the air, emphasizing on a few things on the computer screen. Even though he heard everything you said, and appreciated your voice, it didn’t necessarily mean he understood it. But he made sure to listen and try.

“What do you think?” You asked, looking up at him with eager eyes. He gave you a look because you had asked him this exact question before and it had ended in him red in the face and you falling off your chair in hysterics. You smirked and turned back to the screen, seemingly knowing exactly what he was giving you the look for.

He sighed and nodded, replying, “I actually think you’re the smartest person I know.” And that was true. You had corrected Tony over twenty times while he was working, evidently getting on his nerves when he gave you a glare the twenty-first time you decided to chime in and correct him. Even Shuri seemed to be duller next to you, having declared you extreme success with Bucky’s new chair and obsessively discussing gadgets together before you helped her finetune her new electromagnetic claws with some of your own ideas. She told Steve that he had to bring you to Wakanda the next time he came to visit.

“Oh, I know I’m smart,” you quipped, the teasing tone in your voice not going unnoticed by the blond.

“You’re also the nicest, kindest, and most genuine person I know,” he added, making you whip around and smack a hand over his lips, effectively sealing his mouth. His lips grazed the inside of your palm and he felt his neck heat up, no doubt a red hue had seeped into his cheeks.

“Hey! The walls have ears and I have a reputation to maintain,” you scolded playfully, looking around as if someone would pop out of the wall—Vision was the most likely to do that. Steve rolled his eyes overdramatically so that anyone in a mile radius could see the action as it happened. You giggled and pulled your hand away, only to pinch his cheek so that it would turn a brighter shade of red. He happened to find out you showed physical affection to anyone you really liked, and learned it after that night in the lab, and now wondered how he lived without having your hand graze his arm and pat his head while walking by.

“Seriously?” He deadpanned, watching you light up as he grinned when your hand dropped from his face. He unconsciously leaned towards you, something he became aware of when your eyes flickered around his face. He cleared his throat and moved back subtly, watching you carefully so that he could decipher some sort of emotion or reaction to his closeness, but you were a hard one to read. Your face was almost always stoic, save for when someone talked to you or caught you off-guard.

“I think that you should go show those to Barnes—” You stopped, eyes trailing over his shoulder and watching some movement. Steve looked over his shoulder too, seeing Bucky punch in the code and walk into the lab, holding a bag of take-out. “Speak of the devil.” You gave Bucky a smile, but showed more interest in the take-out bag when you held out your hand for it. Bucky rolled his eyes, smirking and handing it over to you.

“There’s enough for the two of you,” Bucky said, giving Steve a friendly pat on the shoulder as a greeting. You had taken out some burgers—one for you and three for Steve, mumbling about his metabolism and super-soldier serum—and a basket of large fries—you didn’t eat too many as Steve had noted.

“How much do you two even spend on groceries? With both your metabolisms and appetites, you guys have to spend at least a thousand a week just on groceries.” Steve knew you weren’t looking for a response, but Bucky answered before Steve could give you a proper sass-filled comeback.

“Around there, yeah.” Bucky proceeded to shrug and pull out a chair so that he could level with the two of you. “Lucky for us, Tony’s fucking loaded.” You let out a snort, unwrapping your burger and fixing some of the strands of lettuce that had fallen out. Steve grabbed one and unwrapped it a bit at the top before biting into it. You let out a moan at your first bite and Steve found himself choking on his bite, making Bucky hit his back a few times and you to hold out a can of soda. He took the soda with a mumbled thanks, still coughing and clearing his throat as he tried to get that moan echoing through his head to leave him alone. It seemed impossible when the echo grew louder.

“You good?” You asked, gently rubbing his bicep and leaning towards him just as he had done before. You had leaned closer though, face mere inches away from his when you scooted your stool closer to his, a leg between his.

“Yeah,” he whispered out, taking a large gulp of his soda and cringing when it burned his throat slightly. “What the fuck is this?”

“Root Beer, punk,” Bucky replied with a shake of his head, looking between him and you. He was trying to figure out what was happening and Steve had never despised the fact that his best friend was a trained spy and assassin more than in that moment. “That shit was worth like two or three bucks back in the 40s.”

“That’s about seventy bucks now,” you mumbled, calculations already finished in your head. Steve had once complained about some costages and you had quickly searched up how much one dollar back in the 40s was worth now. He reckoned that you remembered the numbers from that quick search just so you could convert the numbers to understand him. He pondered on the fact that he could do some searching of his own to understand you.

“Shit.” Bucky raked a hand through his hair, looking down at the blueprint that Steve had placed down when taking his burger. It had opened up, revealing the white lines that made up the chair’s outlining. Bucky winced at the sight of the chair and your face fell ever so slightly. Steve knew you were hoping that you wouldn’t have to let Bucky deal with a chair that looked exactly like the other one.

“Is—is this one okay?” You looked at Bucky with expectant eyes, flitting over to glance at Steve. He would have been surprised to see the worry building in your eyes if your stutter hadn’t outed you to him. Every little tick of yours was known to him now, even the way you drummed your fingers on your thigh when you were nervous.

“Yeah,” Bucky choked out, getting up suddenly, startling you. “I’m gonna—I’ve got to get to bed. I’ll see you two later.” You and Steve watched him leave the lab, stiff shoulders and posture too straight giving everything he thought about the chair away.

“On that happy note,” you started, turning to him with a smile on your face that looked more like a grimace, “we need to construct another model.” Steve finished his last burger as you opened up another file, not bothering to look at the time. Steve, nevertheless, caught the time and he shook his head. It was nearing nine at night—no wonder Bucky had brought them food—and you had been up before him, before five in the morning.

He didn’t know how you managed to get up earlier than him and he wasn’t going to question it either. You would probably reply with something like mad I beat you, old man?. He didn’t want to test his theory either, not wanting to be wrong and get another smartass comment from you instead. One that would make him hold back a proud grin and maybe even a fit of laughter. He leaned over you, grabbing the garbage and pouring it into the take-out bag before dumping that into the bin near the entrance.

“Come on, darling,” Steve said, the endearment becoming something like a habit now. Not a forced habit, not one bit, but a habit, nonetheless. When you refused to turn to at least acknowledge him, he strode over and put his hands on your shoulders, making you groan and throw your head back to look at him. He stifled his chuckles.

“No,” was your only retaliation to his pointed look. He smirked and let his hands trail down, earning a harsh glare from you before you shivered when his fingers brushed a speck of skin between your shirt and sweatpants.

“I’ll just carry you again, Y/N,” he stated with a shrug. You seemed to glare at him harder then, eyes narrowing slightly and bottom lip jutting out slightly. God, you were pouting at him. Although he would do anything if you asked with that pout on your face, your health wasn’t something he was going to negotiate, even with that adorable pout on your face. “It’s up to you: you walk or I carry.”

You sighed and leaned into his chest, making his heart flutter in a way that it hadn’t in a long time and it was all because you leaned back into his chest. You pressed your back into his chest and rested your head on his shoulder, groaning softly when you stretched your arms and legs in front of you. Your elbows and knees cracked and Steve let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. You giggled slightly, poking Steve’s cheek as he looked down at you to see you grinning mischievously.

“Carry me, peasant,” you teased, arms flying backwards to hold onto his neck as your body shook with fits of laughter. Steve couldn’t help but laugh along with you, a voice deep inside of him telling him that you didn’t laugh as much as he wanted you to. He liked it when you laughed, nose scrunching up and eyes crinkling at the sides. He had to admit though, he didn’t laugh as much as he should either, except when he was with you. Even the smallest jokes or quips from you sent him into fits of laughter that took almost always an hour to reduce to snickers. His record, as you liked to call it, was three hours, falling into this loop of chuckles and full belly laughs because of a stupid joke you had muttered under your breath.

Coming back to the present, Steve realized that you were absolutely exhausted as he gripped your hip to help you stabilize yourself when you almost toppled over on the stool. Your eyes were trying to close on their own, shutting for a few moments too long for his liking. He knew that everyone on the team had trouble sleeping, but he didn’t expect you to have trouble too. It wasn’t nightmares that plagued you in the middle of the night; it was your own thoughts, the ones that would never leave your head. You had told him so with a shrug and dark circles forming under your eyes. It was why you kept working through the night.

“Turn around, brainiac,” Steve ordered softly, making you drop your arms from his neck and twist around so that he could see your face clearly. Lifeless skin and pale lips were just about tearing his heart into pieces as he cleared his throat. “Let’s get some sleep.”

You hummed, tapping a finger on your chin as you pretended to think over it for a second before nodding and saying, “‘Kay.” Steve grinned, pleased by your little fuss and helped you tidy up a bit before extending a hand for you to take. You ignored it and opened the door for the two of you, letting him go through first, even though all his instincts were telling him that it was just wrong to not be holding the door for the lady. His gentlemanly manners were screaming at him as the two of you ascended the stairs, telling him that he was wrong for not holding the door for you.

Before he could dive more further into it, you swayed and stumbled backwards right into his chest. His reflexes were fast enough to wrap an arm around your waist and make sure you weren’t going tumbling down the stairs. When you twisted around and gave him a slightly sheepish smile, he realized that his heart had dropped to his stomach and stayed there as you started mumbling an apology to him for crashing into him.

“No, it’s okay,” he started, hands still gripping your waist. “I’m just glad I was here to break your fall.” He glanced down the stairs, trying so hard not to imagine you laying at the bottom with your limbs sprawled around at odd angles like he had seen one too many times. You seemed to notice his panic and placed your hands on his chest, smiling up at him with a mischievous glint back in your eyes—something Steve was not expecting.

“I think that’s interference, Rogers,” you slurred, not really your best retort, but he could see the drowsiness on your face and your whole body was basically sagging against him the longer you both stood there on the stairs.

“I’m gonna carry you now, darlin’,” he said eventually. He had felt your hands slide down his chest slowly, stopping on his stomach when he finally spoke up and snapped your attention back to reality. Before you could protest—he knew you were going to—he bent down and slipped an arm behind your knees and across the middle of your back to pick you up. You seemed to decide not to argue with him, squirming just a tad bit and then relaxing as he started to walk.

At some point during the pathway from your lab to your rooms, your head lolled to the side and rested against his shoulder, deep and regulated breaths making your chest rise and fall. He tried not to stare at your peaceful face for too long, feeling like he could probably get lost in your beauty and lose his focus on his surroundings and crash into the wall or something. That would be embarrassing and he would probably hear it for the rest of his life from you, non-relenting from teasing him for it. He could hear your voice in his head, poking fun at him for running into a wall.

He chuckled underneath his breath as he rounded the corner into the hallway where both of your rooms were situated. When he reached your room, he debated on waking you up and leaving you to find your way in and get set for bed, but something didn’t let him do that. He carefully opened the door with the hand under your knees and went in, leaving it slightly open behind him. You hadn’t stirred so Steve whispered your name.

“Y/N? Hey, darlin’. Wake up.” Your head left his shoulder, letting cool air hit the warm spot as you blinked and recognized your room. His hands tightened on you as he lowered you down and let you keep an arm on him to steady yourself when you swayed in fatigue.

“You should’ve woken me up the second I fell asleep, Rogers,” you mumbled, eyes trained on the unmade bed and rumpled papers on it. He hadn’t had the chance to look around properly, taking a quick glance around. The room was neat and tidy, omitting your bed. Everything seemed to be in their respective places and you seemed to have a place for every little thing, from the tiniest eraser to the biggest 3-D model. The layout of the room was similar to his, with slight differences in the placement of the furniture.

“You could use all the rest you can get,” he replied with a shrug, walking backwards to the door. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“No kiss tonight?” You teased quietly, eyes still on the bed as if you had never seen it before. The question made him pause and ponder on your actions from the last few weeks. You had shrugged him off each time he tried to come close to you, ignoring his hand or shoving it off every single time, so why did you want a kiss from him? Sure, you had that teasing tone in your voice, but he had heard the slightest frustration behind it. As if you couldn’t understand why he hadn’t made another move for another kiss on you.

And it irked him. Not because you had withdrawn yourself from him—he knew how to take a hint—but because it was getting confusing.

He scoffed and said, “Feels like you don’t want anything to do with me, to be honest, Y/N.”

“What?” You turned around to face him clearly, eyes telling him that you were just as confused as him. You crossed your arms over your torso and tilted your head in that cute way of yours, eyes trailing over his figure to examine his body language. It wasn’t the first time you had tried to figure his emotions out with his body gesture. You had done it multiple times with his reactions to models and drawings of the chair, along with some inappropriate jokes you had dared to pull off in front of him.

“I mean you hate when I touch you—”

“I don’t hate it when you touch me,” you whispered, not even caring to hear the rest of the sentence. His eyes darted to yours, trying to catch a trace of a lie in them and seeing if you were telling him the truth. Even if you didn’t hate it, you had to dislike it, right? There was no other reason for you to pull away as if he had burned you every time he found the courage to graze your hand with his.

“Then why—”

“Because I don’t need the help,” you huffed, letting your arms drop to your sides and fist your hands when they shook a bit. Steve knew that little tick of yours; your hands would shake when you were trying to find the right words. Maybe you just needed the right question for the right answer.

“What if I want to help you?” He asked, taking a step closer to you when you refused to look at him and instead stared at the wall behind him. His guts were telling him to abort the mission and run the other way as they had that day in Germany and the day in Wakanda, but those had turned out okay. He still had Bucky and half of the universe was safe.

“I wouldn’t want to be a burden on you, Steve.”

You called him Steve. That had to mean something since you outright ignored everyone’s first names and went straight for their last names. Maybe it was out of habit now, calling him Steve as he called you darling, but there was still a chance that you meant something by it and Steve was going for that chance. No matter how small or big it was, he was going to push luck like he had never before.

“You could never be a burden on me, Y/N,” he murmured gently, stepping closer until you were within arm’s length. He extended a hand to you and you hesitantly slipped yours into his, soft skin against a calloused palm. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear with his other hand, pulling on your hand to make you step a bit closer to him.

“You might not think so now, but later, when you get bored of this, of me, you’ll be running the other way,” you said, quietening down so much that he had to strain all of his focus on hearing you. He was going to hear you no matter what.

“I wouldn’t.” His heart was beating in his chest and just about had started to hurt his ribs. “I wouldn’t be able to, darlin’. I’m either all in or all out, you should know that by now.” That dragged an airy chuckle out of your pretty lips he had been eyeing without realizing it and his heart started to calm down before it broke his bones.

“You say that now—”

“I’d do anything to prove it.” And he was ready to get down on his knees to beg for you to hear him. You studied him for a few moments, silence ringing in the air as he squeezed your hand for his own grounding. The next few seconds were the longest seconds he had spent looking at you—though the view was as pretty as it could get. He let you take a step back, heart skipping a beat or two, and then two steps forward so that your bodies had mere inches left between them.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, “properly or I won’t believe you.” You already did believe him. He knew you believed him with the way you had stepped forward twice, the kiss was just a formality. You closed your eyes when his hand came to your chin to tip your face up slightly to relish the moment just as he wanted to, watching your body shiver when his hand slipped behind your neck and the other came to the small of your back to pull your body to press on his.

Then he slotted his lips against yours and let out a groan at the taste of you. Your hands moved on their own, sliding up his chest to entangle in his hair and thumb grazing the small hairs on the nape of his neck. His lips moved slowly and gently, not wanting to chase you away with a wrong move, but once you dragged your tongue on his bottom lip and nipped at it, he let you be the one to deepen the kiss. You had initiated it, but Steve had no problem taking over, both of you fighting for domination before you submitted and let Steve run the show. Once the breath in the two of you had run out, you both pulled away, panting and resting your foreheads against each other.

You let out a small giggle as Steve grinned and tugged you impossibly close to him.

“You’re, uh you’re good at that for an old man,” you teased, making him roll his eyes playfully and nip at your bottom lip as you had to his. You bit down on your lip when he dragged his face away to look at you clearly, preventing the smile that was trying to break out on your face. Steve let his thumb pull out from between your teeth and grinned when he noticed the flustered state that little action left you in.

“I’m a lot better at other things, too, darlin’,” he mumbled, feeling the adrenaline that was keeping you awake start to drain out quickly. You were holding yourself up with your hands on his shoulders now, leaning against him as your eyes darted to the door in front of yours. “But I don’t think now’s the right time to show you.” You snorted and flitted your eyes back to him.

“I’ve still got a few moves on you,” you retorted, putting your forehead on his chest and yawning. Steve rubbed your back and kissed your forehead, embracing you tightly.

“Get some sleep and we’ll argue about it tomorrow,” he suggested, a lightness to his tone that made you look up at him and smile sleepily.

“Sure.” You pressed your hands to his chest, pushing slightly to nudge yourself straight. “Then you can admit I’m the best.” Still, that teasing tone remained in your words as you glanced towards his door again and, this time, he caught the hidden message.

“Want me to come back?” He asked, making sure he had read everything right this time. He was wishing and praying to whatever god there was that he had read your eyes right this time, that he was hearing you right this time. When you looked at him, eyes shining a bit brighter and lips tugging a bit higher, he knew he had read you right.

“I can’t ask—”

“Ask me,” he cut in, raising an eyebrow and smirking softly. “Ask me to come back.” You observed him for a second, hesitancy was clear in your eyes, but he knew it wasn’t that you didn’t want him now. It was hesitancy to ask him for more than you usually received. You licked your lips and sucked in a breath.

“Come back to me,” you blurted, hands fisting the fabric stretched across his chest. “You make it quiet.” Steve was caught slightly off-guard by that statement, not realizing what you were referring to until a few seconds later. His hands tightened on your hip and he let a soft smile grace his face.

“You make it quiet for me, too.” He squeezed your hip once before adding, “I’ll come back tonight as long as I get woken up with kisses.”

“You’d be crazy to think I’m not kissing you again.”

There were murmured whispers that night again, but these ones lulled you both to sleep, having your fair share of the night’s kisses. It was safe to say that this wasn’t the last night this routine happened, but that’s a different story. A story for another night.

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grantspectortrash · 2 years

Text

Bad To The Bone

pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Halloween night, King Steve on the cusp of Good Steve, and a shared love for The Karate Kid. Flirting that you'd never admit to, a party that you'll never forget.

word count: 3.2K

A/N: aha honestly? I just wanted to combine my love for Steve Harrington, Cobra Kai/Karate Kid and Halloween all into one place. Hope you enjoy! Requests are open btw <3

It's Halloween 1984 and somebody is dressed as a skeleton.

But not any old skeleton - they're dressed up as Johnny Lawrence's skeleton, headphones around his neck and all, completely identical to the costume in The Karate Kid.

You wonder how long it took them to create it, and how many times they went to the cinema in order to memorise it down to the very last thread.

You can't see their face, but they're on the dancefloor and they are killing it - no Halloween pun intended.

Tina is the one throwing the party, claiming that she is the 'ghostess with the mostest'. Her house is large enough to host all of your classmates and more. You're pretty sure that there's some underage kids hanging out and drinking in her backyard, but that isn't your problem.

And, while you take in the scenery and stand in Tina's kitchen, you contemplate why you ever thought dressing up as Mr Miyagi was a good idea - bald cap and all.

Robin, your best friend in the entire world, had bailed on you this Halloween. Sure, maybe she couldn't get out of going to her cousin's wedding, but why did it have to be the same weekend as Halloween? The pair of you were always Batman and Robin, and surprisingly you were always Robin. That joke never got old, not to you at least.

Most girls, if not all, at the party had gone for the sexy side of Halloween dress-up. Sexy ghosts, sexy nuns, Princess Leia in her golden bikini. One very specific, very skimpy, sexy E.T. who had lights glowing from her boobs instead of her finger.

You think it's the first time you've seen an alien that wants to get probed. Alas, you digress.

The Johnny Lawrence poser is dancing as '(Don't Fear) The Reaper' is playing from the large speakers that Tina has borrowed from her boyfriend Chris.

Although you're not very close to Tina, you get the urge to tell her that while she's dancing with her friends, Chris is making out with Stacey in the downstairs bathroom behind you.

Each time their hankering bodies collide with the bathroom door, you take one step further into the kitchen and one step further away from whatever is going on inside that bathroom. You're grateful the music covers their noises.

Nobody has spoken to you in about twenty minutes, and the only conversation you did have was when someone, clearly already drunk and dressed like Danny Zuko yelled "Wax on, wax off!" in your face as he grabbed yet another beer bottle from the kitchen counter.

You had wondered if he had a Sandy to pair up with, but when he sauntered back into the crowd you saw the mass of T-Birds waiting for him.

Hiding out in the kitchen has it's privileges. You had already swiped two bottles of the cheep beer yourself, and now you nurse the second by taking tiny sips at regular intervals and clutching the bottle tightly just so that you have something to do with your hands.

The song ends and a new one starts, and you watch as the skeleton gestures to some of the people he's with - you don't recognise any of them.

His thumb jabs over to the direction of the kitchen and soon he's snaking through the throng of costumed people on the dancefloor, all drunk or high to a varying degree.

As he gets closer you wonder if he'll see you. You wonder if you know him. You still can't see his face; the makeup is deceiving and his hair is hidden by the hood of the costume.

The skeleton-clad boy moves to the other end of the kitchen, his back to you. He grabs a bottle from the counter and absentmindedly cracks the cap off with his teeth. It's an act you're sure a dentist wouldn't approve of, but it comes across as quite an impressive act, and a slightly attractive thing to do.

He pulls the cap from his mouth and flicks it onto the counter. It's only then that he takes in what's been going on in the kitchen.

There's a guy who's been stood over the punch bowl for the last ten minutes, tipping in various bottles of spirits and mixers and meticulously stirring it, all while dressed as a baseball player.

A couple, dressed as Fred and Daphne from the Scooby gang, have been arguing just as long. Their hushed tones are hidden by the music, but whatever is going on neither of them are happy about.

And then there's you. And the skeleton boy can see that.

He turn towards you fully, grinning, and it's only then that you wish you hadn't been staring at him all night. You wish you hadn't created an idea of who he might be in your head. Because he smiles and it's unmistakeable. It's pretty and popular and all the girls love it.

You have to stop yourself from cursing.

"Oh shit, Mr Miyagi. Better stay away from you." He takes a sip from his beer and leans casually on the counter beside you.

He is no longer skeleton boy, the guy with the bad dance moves and the good taste in movies.

He's Steve Harrington. King Steve. Douchebag of all douchebags. And your crush since about eighth grade, not that you'd admit that to yourself. Or him.

And sure, the crush faded in and out, because it was never going to be reciprocated, and honestly you didn't care.

But tonight he looked like Johnny Lawrence, and you had to keep reminding yourself who he really was under his clothes and all of that makeup.

A bully. A rich boy. A reminder of why you didn't need a guy in your life.

And yet, even after all your reminding, when he's dressed as Johnny Lawrence he's almost someone else. Almost the guy you created in your head.

"Yeah, one wrong move and you're dead, Harrington." You reply, rolling your eyes and taking a sip of beer for good measure.

Steve brings his own bottle to his lips, and laughs.

"It's Y/N, right? We have maths together." He asks, and you're surprised he even remembers your name let alone the classes you have together.

You nod.

Steve smiles then, almost proud of himself for remembering, and it's difficult to picture his real face under all the makeup - all you can see is Johnny Lawrence and it's beginning to become a little flustering. No, frustrating. Yeah, that's what you mean. Frustrating.

He says something just as the music gets cranked up. 'The Monster Mash' is playing at a deafening volume, no doubt something the neighbours won't appreciate, along with the smoking and yelling and all the other noises omitting from the house.

You look over at the dancefloor to notice Tina is gone - you hope she's not looking for her cheating, scumbag boyfriend. She's better without.

You turn back to Steve, "Huh?" You have to practically yell to be heard.

Steve repeats whatever he said, only for you to not hear him again. You shake your head.

This time, Steve rolls his eyes. Then, he's ducking his head so it's close to yours and his lips are against your ear. His breath is warm and it sends a spark straight down your spine.

"I said, only hot chicks can pull off a bald cap, I'm impressed."

He pulls away and suddenly the heat isn't from his breath, it's across your cheeks and burning the tops of your ears.

You don't want to admit to yourself that it's because of Steve fucking Harrington, so you blame it on the fact he looks like Cobra Kai's bad boy.

"I - uh, umm..." It very quickly seems like you can't find your voice. You swallow hard, hoping to clear the lump in your throat. You don't know what to say.

And Steve's loving every second of it. There's a smug look on his face, and undeniable sparkle in his brown eyes.

You're about to yell at him. Steel yourself and tell him what's what, when the music gets cut.

Everybody turns to the speaker, including you and Steve. Whatever moment the two of you shared passes. Tina's ripped the cord, and she's standing there in her cheerleading outfit, shaking a pom aggressively.

"Where's Chris?"

As soon as she yells his name, Stacey storms out of the bathroom behind you. Her hair is a mess and her identical cheerleading outfit is ripped. A lipstick stain smears the right side of her face.

"You said you'd broken up!" She's marches across the kitchen and Steve pulls you close to him so that you're out of the girl’s way.

Seconds later, Chris appears. His trousers by his ankles and lipstick all over his face and exposed chest. A line of kisses trail all the way down to his boxers.

"Stacey! Tina!" He stumbles across the kitchen, making his way behind you. Once he passes, you push yourself away from Steve, aware of how close the pair of you were.

The two girls start yelling, moving towards the direction of the front door as they start grappling each other. Tina has Stacey by the hair, while Stacey is trying to shove Tina's pom down her throat. Chris hauls ass behind them, yelling apologies that neither of the girls are paying attention to.

They leave through the front door, and the yelling becomes fainter as they move across the lawn. Someone dressed as a ghost pulls the front door shut, and plugs the speaker back in. The music commences, quieter this time.

"Holy hell." You shake your head and finish your second beer of the night. The alcohol hasn't affected you yet, and it's making you feel left out. Everyone here seems even a little bit tipsy. Apart from you. And, well, maybe Steve too.

"Yikes. That’s depressing." Steve replies, and without asking, leans behind him to grab you another bottle. He does the teeth thing again with the cap and you laugh.

"That's a very Johnny Lawrence move, you know."

That earns a grin from Steve, his real teeth showing instead of the fake skeleton teeth painted on his skin. "What can I say? I'm bad to the bone."

You try to hold in the laughter. For someone who was meant to be cool and popular, Steve was proving to be quite corny.

You take a risk by asking, "Talking of bad boys, why aren't you flooded with your usual admiring fans tonight?” Then you carry on, just to add the illusion of disinterest, “And Tommy?”

Then, you take a long sip of your third beer until the embarrassment of asking goes away. You nearly drain the bottle.

"Well," Steve says, glancing over to the masses of dancing girls who are all dressed up like sexy cavewomen. The actual cheerleading squad.

"They found out I was dating Nancy Wheeler, and I had to stop basketball practice to get my grades up. All of which apparently made me lame. And then Nancy dumped me, yesterday actually. So turns out I'm not as cool as I once was."

He reaches out to touch the fake Mr Miyagi beard stuck to your chin. You slap his hand away, with no real heat behind the act.

"Hence why you're talking to me." You laugh, a little bit of the alcohol taking effect now. Your insides feel warm and you're not worried if your comment seems insensitive. Steve doesn't seem to mind.

And the fall of King Steve is almost intriguing to you. He was funny. And had good take in films. And was talking to you like he actually cared.

"Yeah. Right. Hence why I'm talking to you." Steve's voice is full of sarcasm. But, he's smiling. A real genuine smile that makes you think that maybe Steve Harrington isn't so bad. Maybe.

His clinks his beer bottle with yours then, and tips his head up to take a long swig from his bottle. You watch as his Adam's Apple bobs.

You take a sip after he takes his, and he watches as you do. Some impulse draws him closer to you, and he pulls the bald-cap away from your head. You take the bottle away from your lips and take your natural hair out of its hairband. It falls roughly, kind of sweaty and bobby-pinned in place, but Steve nods anyway.

"Much better." He says, and winks.

It's in that moment that you think something passes between the pair of you. Something special, something that's yours. A strange acknowledgement of something that's just begun.

But hey, maybe it's just the alcohol talking.

You pull the fake beard away from your face and set down the third empty beer bottle of the night. "Want to go outside?"

Steve nods.

Five minutes later you find yourself on a swing set with Steve beside you. The beer bottles and the music are forgotten. There's only a couple people outside, all appreciating the slightly quieter outdoors. Two guys are sharing a joint and are deep in conversation, but they're not in hearing distance.

Wherever the love-triangle of Stacey, Tina and Chris got to is a mystery, but you're glad the drama is nowhere near you.

Steve's pulled the skeleton hood off now, revealing tufts of messy brown hair. His heels are dug into the ground, and truth be told he's a little bit too tall for the set, but he swings slightly all the same.

The sky's pitch black but the tree above you has been bombarded with enough fairy lights to attract an entire moth family. The lights reflect in Steve's eyes.

"I'm sorry about Nancy, by the way." You don't know what makes you say it, but the words come out of your mouth anyway.

"Thanks, Y/N. I think you're actually the first person who's actually said that. Everyone else is glad that we’re done."

There's a tinge of hurt in Steve's voice, and he won't meet your gaze.

"Are you glad you’re done?" You ask even though you can already guess the answer from the look on his face.

"Yes, and no. I don't know. She's in love with someone else. I have to respect that. Maybe what we had was love, maybe it wasn't. Whatever."

You know it shouldn't, but his comments gains a laugh from you, "King Steve respecting women, who would have thought it?"

Steve cracks a small smile, almost painful, and suddenly you feel bad.

"Sorry." You say, "That was in bad taste."

He looks at you then, all soft eyes and skeleton makeup. "No, it's okay. You're not wrong."

There's a brief silence between the two of you, and you watch as the couple dressed as Fred and Daphne - who were arguing the last time you saw them - are stepping out of the back door in tandem. The guy’s hands are on the girl’s ass, her's are in his hair. They're snogging at a rapid rate, and not even looking where they're going. They find a tree, and start making out against it. Their kissing noises are off-putting.

"Well at least now I'm single I don't have to be embarrassing like that." Steve laughs, but the act seems perfunctory. "Anyway."

He stops swinging and looks at you, scanning you quickly before smiling. He leans over to poke you on the knee. "What about you?"

You frown, "What about me?"

Your question gains a smirk, "You know. Are you dating anyone? What's up in the world of Y/N?"

"Oh, well, not much." Your hand comes to the back of your neck, suddenly feeling awkward and exposed. Your fingers itch to be holding another bottle of beer - where was that liquid courage when you needed it?

"I'm single. Very. Always. And it's fine, I guess. Yeah. I'm fine."

Under all his face-paint, Steve's left eyebrow quirks up at you, "You sure?" He's trying to hide a smile, and you move to lightly hit his foot with your own.

"Shut up, Harrington."

"No, come on. You must have thought about someone though. Like the prom's coming up soon, who would you ask?"

You groan, burying your face into your hands. Fuck sake.

Steve moves then, you can feel it more than see it. You peek through your fingers to see him crouched in front of you, his hands coming to rest on your knees. There's a warmth radiating off him, one that you can't ignore.

"Y/N, why're you hiding from me?" Steve's voice is barely a whisper. It gains another spark down your spine, one that circles back around your body and straight into your heart.

You were going to have so much explaining to do when Robin got home.

"You." The words come out of your mouth in a mumble, and you're still hiding behind your fingers. Steve moves them for you. You become very aware of his hands on yours, the way his fingers interlock with yours and rest between your knees. It seems easy. It seems right.

"What was that?" You can tell he's not trying to be mean. He's genuinely curious. His fingers slip out from yours and you end up squeezing your fists tight.

"I'd ask you. You know, the version of you that isn't a dick, anyway."

Steve smiles so hard to the point where he ends up looking kinda goofy, and ultimately, a little bit pleased too.

So, you do the only thing you can think of. You push him with your knees and it sends him landing on his ass.

He guffaws, “Damn, I was right. Gotta stay away from Mr Miyagi."

You stand up and offer him your hand; he takes it.

Steve brushes himself off before looking at you again. He notices the tint in your cheeks, definitely not just from the alcohol this time.

"Tell you what, considering that I'm not cool or a dick anymore, do you think you could handle being friends? Go from there?" There's a gentleness in Steve's voice that fully convinces you maybe King Steve is dead for good.

Maybe tonight, dressed as Johnny Lawrence, there's some sort of symbolism there. The last night of being a bad boy.

You nod, embarrassed and endeared all at the same time. "Sure. Cool. Works for me."

Steve sticks his hand out, cracking another smile, "I'm Steve Harrington. Nice to meet you."

You can't help but laugh, even if you do take his hand and accept the shake. It's almost like a deal. A secret between the two of you. And you have no idea how it happened.

"Hi, Steve. You know, for someone who's been popular for a long time, being a corny loser kind of suits you."

"I guess so. Perhaps hanging around with you has that effect."

You're both smiling, but you hit Steve in the stomach all the same. It leads to an all out Miyagi-Do vs Cobra Kai fight, although you're not really throwing your punches and Steve's totally letting you win. But this is a friendship you didn't know you needed. Hell, maybe is was going to be more than a friendship. And it seems wonderful - an unexpected treat on a Halloween night.

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #cobra kai #stranger things #stranger things halloween #the karate kid

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