#and nancy finds that very 🥵
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I’m honestly really excited to read the frog heist fic when it’s done. It’s the type of fic I need in my life rn
(Also ngl, when I saw the first post about Jonathan releasing the frogs, it made me think of that one scene in E.T where Elliott starts freeing the frogs from the jars. Middle school Jonathan 100% did the same thing and got sent to the principals office)
Hi Emily,
I am ALSO excited to read the frog heist fic. It's going to be so silly but they deserve to be silly. I need dumb seventeen year old shenanigans.
(Also 100% my boy is against animal cruelty)
#it's just soooo weird misunderstood kid of him#and nancy finds that very 🥵#I'm single handedly bringing back the filler episode with this one#Jonathan is in his Degrassi era#or maybe his Summer Roberts era?#either way he's freeing 100 frogs#beloved mutuals <3#Jancy Frog Heist#jancy#jonathan byers#nancy wheeler#my fic#stranger things
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yes baby it's this time of the year (I need a good start that's why it's so early on the year lol) that I need your fic recommendations 😊 I'm here to take it babeee!
P.S Happy New Year my love ❤️
OHH LOVED THAT ENERGY 🥰 Happy New Year to you too hon! ❤️
Sooooo where to start from?? First of all I'm a little distracted the last few days because one of my favorite people on the planet visited me for the holidays and we're spending quality family time! So I may have miss some updates around here. Anyway let's start!
It's not a proper recommendation post if I'm not recommending @freedomfireflieseflies ' work! I feel like I'm repeating myself when I say that EVERYTHING she writes is PURE GOLD but that's the truth so I'm gonna say it again! Her new work "Infinite You" is amazing and believe me when you read it you will need more immedietely!😍 (her whole masterlist is a gift actually so you know what you have to do 😍)
Also please go check @adorebeaa 's Hawthorn Series! It's amazing! It plays like a movie in your head! The dynamic between the two characters is so fascinating! Oh and "Little Freak" is so good! I loved this story so much! And of course her one shots are crazy ("please you", "merry christmas, i couldn't care less" are 🥵)
@gurugirl 's "Just For Tonight", "A Good Boy" and "The Unicorn" are *chef's kiss*. Her writing is unmatched and she always comes up with creative concepts.
Also @cupid-styles is a gem! Her "grumpy!h" series is so freaking cute. The way she built their relationship was so beautiful. Oh also I had a great time reading "you're my last shot".
Of course I need to mention @lukesaprince because she is amazing! "The Rich" is so well written 😍
Also recently I discovered @justlemmeadoreyou and I'm so glad I did 😭 Her headcanons are so addictive 😱
Go check @harrys-titties ' "Harry's a dick, and Y/N hates him for it" as well because it was very beautiful and if you love a good enemies to lovers story, that's it! It has everything you wish for in a story like this.
"Love, heard, seen" from @fkinavocado is amazing too and I totally recommend it! I loved it!
Every time I get an ask like this, it's so hard for me to stop talking because I fucking love reading all these incredible stories but I need to stop myself now because if I don't, I won't ever lol I tried to recommend new stories and not the same ones I have recommend in the past (if you want you can check my other fic recs posts) and I hope you will find this helpful.
xoxo
Nancy
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9. part-time soulmate, full-time problem
Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader
Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), we think we’re ~prank Sinatra~ to disastrous effect i.e. a fake elopement, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.
A/N: hey girl, u up? lemme come thru 💦💦💦 🥵🥵🥵 *slaps roof of fic* You can fit so much reverence and smut in this bad boy. Here’s 5.1K of pure filth and debauchery, holy water can’t help me now! Poetry excerpt from Sue Zhao. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜
series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!
Steve's playlist for Trouble: trouble will find me
previous || next
Now, Spring Break, Joshua Tree, CA ➡️ Las Vegas, NV
“You did what?”
And it’s not a question, not by a long shot.
If Nancy Wheeler wasn’t some 1,800 miles from you, you’d be seeing the patented snarl right now. The one that says ‘you’ll be dead by my hand and my hand alone.’
There’s a very real possibility that you’ve overplayed your hand this time. What started as a prank, a harmless lark, had devolved into one screeching phone call from Steve’s mother for him and a blistering series rapid-fire of texts for you, followed by a phone call during which Nancy was going to rip you a new asshole.
She didn’t appreciate your texts as you’d hoped.
Trouble 👁️👄👁️: so BDE is not *just* an energy with Steve. got it, good to know.
Natty light 💯: She lives! We haven’t heard from you in days. Wtf did you idiots do?
Trouble 👁️👄👁️: nothing to be concerned about! on an unrelated note, before you check insta remember that i am your BESTIE and you would miss me terribly(!!!) if i died, even if it was at your own hand
Natty light 💯: … I’m going to kill you, and resurrect your dessicated corpse so I can strangle you … slowly and painfully
Trouble 👁️👄👁️: pls mother, no, i’m scared
But hey, it’s not like you woke up and decided to potentially fuck up your life today.
So, yeah. Definitely went too far with it this time, but in your defense, it’s not like anyone was there to reign you in. Steve was just as liable to go on with your half-cocked schemes, even more so now that you could sit back on your heels, all pretty smiles and wide, sweet eyes as your hands unbuckle his belt, still supplicated with chin on his knee, “You said anything...”
Folded like a house of cards the second you got your mouth on him. Shudders when you begin with your tongue first before eager lips stretch to fit him, guiding until he’s nestled in your mouth. And then you move, deliberately measured, building a lazy pace, sluicing him up with spit.
“Ah, shit…” Steve’s words are already betraying him. You smile as his cock pops out of your mouth.
“How’s that? Still wanna make that dinner reservation?” Thick lashes framing glittering doe-eyes peer up at him. Purposely coy. “Or do you want to stay here?”
He returns to himself. Dazed, he blinks at the bright lights and the glossy tiled floor. The marble countertop of the sink where he grips like a lifeline.
The restroom down the hall of the restaurant. Turn a corner and twenty people are sitting at tables, drinking cocktails and cajoling. Your mouth back on him wipes the thoughts from his brain.
Squelching when you push him back past your molars, crushing your tongue.
You slide him out, voice hoarse and breathy and it chills him to the bone the way you whisper, “C’mon baby, let’s have some fun.”
The second day in California runs a lot more smoothly, and the third day is as easy as a breeze. Granted, it’s a hot, humid, sticky type of desert breeze as you wipe a hand across your forehead in the heat of the day.
Steve hums a patient tune, leans back on both palms and you watch the sunlight drape his bare chest in a warm flare. Glowing gold and bronze as if it’s transmuted from the hue in his very eyes.
He is hard and hot when your bare skin touches his. Steve lies down on his side to face you, panting slightly as you glide your hand up and down his arm. Oh fuck, it’s been months and the first man you touch is more like something carved by a master sculptor of Renaissance than any other man. It should be illegal for someone to look this good.
Trembling, you touch the hard planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen, the swell of his chest taking hard breaths. You shut your eyes and imagine the way he looks right now—breathless and wild. His knee parts your legs easily and one hand descends to feel your center, saturating your underwear.
“Jesus, baby,” Steve sighs into your neck. “You’re makin’ me crazy. This–” He begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers, “Already…”
A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts through your bra, nipping at the soft flesh spilling from the cups.
“Steve, you’ll make me come.” You admit, a little shyly even as your hips rock consciously into his hand. You paw at his arms, squeezing the ridges of muscles.
And you’re abruptly startled awake by the sound your own moans. It’s past four in the morning when you rouse from sleep, frustrated to leave behind the pleasant escape the dream provided.
Damn it all to hell.
A creak of the wood door alerts you to his arrival. Steve is quiet when he sits on your bed, one knee pulled up to his chest while the other leg slinks down by your side, thigh brushing yours where your legs kicked off the covers. A sigh rolls through him at the early hour.
There is discomfort. His body retreats with the shift of your atmosphere. Always too itchy in your own skin. Afraid of being seen, noticed, thought about. He’s good at hearing your silence. Good at reading your language.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
He glistens like a god come to drown you in the sweetest of dreams. It makes your heart plummet to its death at the thought of his departure when you shake your head.
“Me neither.”
He lays back on your bed with a tired sigh, close enough to touch. Your own personal wonder.
“C’mere then,” you tug him to your side. Steve presses his lips to your neck, smiles into the wispy hair at the nape, nuzzles your locks aside to reveal more shoulder. Breathing soft and slow with his face against your neck, chest to your chest. He’s folded and tucked against you, all his strength and gravity nestled to your side.
“Honey—” Steve murmurs, more purposefully now, rasps your name, so soft and reverent you almost don’t hear it.
A confused noise, a second of readjustment to a new position, to his touch, and then you stir and purr.
“Hey, you.” Voice like warm fire, even with disrupted sleep from past few days.
A heavy silence falls between you.
Tell me what you’re thinking. If it was a mistake, tell me. If it wasn’t, tell me. You’ve been avoiding me and look—I want your goddamn babies, but c’mon. You gotta throw me a bone, I’m shit at reading signs.
He wants to take you to pieces, eyes roving your sleep-drowsy form, shorts rucked up on your thighs, shirt askew. Would devour you whole if you’d let him, savor your cries and moans at his capable hands. Make a ruin you only to build you right back up, unable to think of anyone else save him.
Steve arches, brushing the tip of his nose against your chin, up to your own nose, mouth hovering but not quite touching, just feeling each other’s atmosphere. You cross the distance and kiss him, grip tighter now like he could collapse right into you and god, you wish he could. Let you keep every last bit of him forever.
“Can we—”
You savor his lips, caressing the line of his cupid’s bow with your own, tongue flicking over the corners of his mouth, punctuating it chastely like a ritual. He moans, hand on the plane of your back moving, fingers scrambling at your spine before he palms your thigh and slots you flush against his torso with one leg hooked around his waist.
“God yes. Lemme just—”
He tugs at the waistband of your sleeping shorts before he changes his mind and his hands slip into the leg opening of the silk instead, keeping you right where you are. He rucks his own sweats down, just enough to spring himself free, shushing your whines, never letting you get too far, slipping upward, finding your heat.
“Eyes on me, baby.”
“Okay, Steve—ah—”
Right. So this is happening. Like, right the fuck now.
Oh god.
You’re both surprised and terrified, blinking at his urgency, and then you start scrambling, too. A beatific grin blooms on your lips before you tip forward and slowly glide yourself down his considerable size, rubbing back and forth, hips moving easily.
Steve stutters breathlessly like he might go into shock. “You’re all fucking— oh fuckin’ hell.”
You only arch into it, holding his chin between your thumb and forefinger, kissing the bristles of his jaw. You’re soft and warm and he’s utterly overcome. Little noises fall from one mouth to another. An awkward shift and your thighs slip off his, head knocking into him, but neither of you are bothered.
A half-hearted cluck of your tongue gives way to a low moan and you shuffle, flush against his chest, bare bodies warm and growing hotter now. Your palm rubs down his chest, savoring the rougher feel of his hairs there, contrasting your own skin, grasping his jutting hipbones, the strong plane of his abdomen.
Eager fingers slip between flesh. Velvet and surprisingly slick and wrapping around his digits like syrupy flower petals. “Baby girl,” Steve hums at the way you sigh. “Pretty girl.”
Shudders. You’re weak and boneless, slack and supple, pliant to his fingers and words. Little sweet-talker, you never knew he had such a clever tongue until he first slid it against yours in that fevered kiss in December. Now he’ll know all your weaknesses, know every lock and how to pick them until you’re all the way opened up for him.
It’s hard to focus when he’s like this. Perfectly warm. Perfectly adoring. Perfectly fitted. So, so bright with the faintest pink bursting over his cheeks.
You whimper with his every stroke. Every plunge. His other hand runs itself up the nape of your neck, fingertips in your scalp and you arch like a cat for more.
“So good,” Steve praises, “Nice and tight, squeezin’ around me. All wet for me, aren’t you?”
“Uh— mhm.” Inarticulate noises. Woozy and wrapped in his affection.
His eyes– pupils blown wide, half-hooded with lust and love– immobilize you, memorizing every inch of your face. He smiles. Christ, a smile that could launch a thousand ships. That could blind the whole world.
You curse quietly, blood pounding in your ears, your chest, your throat where he latches on with his perfect mouth, marking you up with his spit quickly followed by his teeth.
“Keep going—oh, don’t stop–“
“You want it like this, honey?” He sucks on your collar, on your shoulder, taking every whimper and cry as a command to continue.
They flower all over your chest. Red and purple and swollen bright for everyone to see—just like him. And the very thought of him, of you, lost to it takes you over the edge, calling his name like you’re at an altar in supplication.
“That’s it, honey. Be a good girl and come for me.”
With a tremble that vibrates all the way to into Steve’s soul, you obey. Onto his hips and abdomen, gushing a little, and with some embarrassment that it happened all so quickly.
Your lids flutter open and you see as Steve hitches himself deeper, grinding his hips, gripping your thighs, and fills you all the way up until the stars behind your eyes whites out your vision, making you stutter and keen as you continue to fall apart.
Then he stills, pulling you even closer, body slick with dew in the early morning light. The two of you lie in perfect symmetry, trembling in each other’s arms.
And because you’re a sap with too much poetry rattling around your brain, all that pops into your head is:
In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you’re whispering ‘where have you been?’ I say, ‘I’ve been lost but I’m here now. You’re the only person who has ever been able to find me.’
You allow yourself to sink into the feeling, expecting the tight fit of something new but finding that not to be the case at all. But rather brushing against something well-worn, as if it had been waiting for you all this time.
“God, Steve—” you rasp. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
Steve laughs low, kisses the blooming bruises up and down your neck, makes you whine again, sensitive and aching. His clever tongue wonders sweetly, “How’s staying in bed all day sound?”
You laugh. He’ll learn everything you like. Know all your weaknesses. How can you say no to something like that?
It’s different, almost tender in the afternoon.
His abs clench in time with his fists, wet fingers digging into his palms, bit-back groans barely contained. You keep going, marveling at the way he’s sensitive, kissing his neck, letting him feel good. Steve begins to protest, embarrassed at the way you’re moving, at how he’s powerless against you.
“S-slow—hold on—“
“Let me do it, Stevie.” He’s so hard it hurts. “I wanna learn everything you like.”
Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Steve holds himself to calm down, other hand steadying your teasing. Nothing’s happened yet, you just started back up again after a late breakfast, having slept soundly through the morning, and he might already blow his whole fucking load.
“Okay—just—will you give me a second–”
Using the position you’re already in, he pushes you up against the mattress and guides you back down, hitching your thighs around his hips, sinking a bit at a time until you’re landing on him with a gasp. He eases into you with what he hopes is restraint, letting you have it slow, feeling you shudder from inside your goddamn bones with every further inch until he takes it away and you shimmy down to the hilt.
Your eyes roll back. And you look perfect.
“Was it good?” He blurts, “With Eddie?”
He doesn’t know why it slips out; he never thinks about it, honest. It was a series of hook ups. A few times over the years—and he’s not jealous like that because you’re all adults, and it’s not like he’s a virgin or an ascetic, either. You freeze, but he really is an idiot because instead of apologizing or rectifying that outburst, he cuts you off.
“I can give it to you better.”
Because Steve wants to. He really does.
He presses onward before you can respond, taking hold of what little courage he has, making you whimper, feeling prouder as he goes. Another one and you’re meeting him with a roll of your own hips. Another one, harder now, and you’re shaking down below him, tipping back into the pillows, grinding recklessly with that exhilaration he adores.
“Baby, you feel amazing.” Tongue-tied like a schoolboy, he’s keening after your words. “Can I have you all the time?” And Jesus wept who knew you could talk so sweet and filthy.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” Steve promises, his jaw hanging open in awe, “I’m yours. You can have me as much as you want— anytime.”
You bite your lip, skin of it pulled taut and snapping back bruised, light-headed and reeling. Glistening across your collarbones with his spit, body trembling like a high note. He feels it— just a little more— god, you look incredible— he’s gotta hold out for this— and then—fuck.
It’s wet and divine when you come. Slick and tight, dragging him under as you ride out your orgasm, pulling him in like he belongs in you forever.
And he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.
Steve could die happy seeing your face like this every day.
Two weeks prior…
“Eddie…tell me the truth,” You ask slowly, folding clothes (well, that’s a generous term— it’s more haphazardly tossing and bundling laundry into your open suitcase). “It’s good, isn’t it? Shawty, tell me what that thang do!”
You waggle your brows, make a V-shape with your fingers, and lewdly run your tongue up and down between them. Steve thinks he sees you looking at him, but he feels himself flushing at your comment and pretends like he’s enthralled with the most recent episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Half-keeping an eye on you to make sure you actually pack actual pajamas and pants for this trip.
“Dude. Stop it.” Eddie groans, knowing you’re all too familiar with his endowments and prowess from previous experience.
Whomever currently was getting the Eddie Munson midnight special was having a helluva time.
You lob a pair of leggings toward your suitcase, “Kobe!”
You miss.
Eddie cackles, “How’re you gonna disrespect a legend like that, and miss?!”
“Okay!” Steve yells, pushing you off the couch in the living room, “That’s enough of that. I’m going for a run.”
Landing on your shoulder with a grunt, you brush away the rough sting of the carpet and catch the last second of his shadow before he’s gone from the room.
“What?” You call, projecting your voice and hoping he hears, “What’d I do? Steve!”
The scrape of the chair legs signals Eddie standing up, too. A shake of his head and he crosses his arms over his chest.
“You know,” he starts, “For all your insight, you’re pretty dense.”
There’s nothing in your head but sawdust and thoughts about his… activities under the sheets his flavor of the month. You shake it out of your brain before it lingers too long. Eddie points sharply down the hall to where Steve’s shadow has slipped out of view and hearing-distance.
“You know he likes you, right?”
Uh? Your brain is the mac loading wheel, just spinning. “Of course he does? We’re buddies?”
Eddie cuffs you in the back of the head, “Get it together. Like is putting it lightly, too. Love is closer to the truth.”
“Now,” Eddie leans over you, menacing you with his height. “How about you go listen to the record he gave you and think about what you’ve done, hmm?”
Then, he saunters off, shaking his head all the while, leaving you to gape down the hall like a fish. Steve? In love? With you?
Flashes explode in your brain like fireworks. His jacket over your shoulders—not the first time. Sitting underneath your legs— nearly tradition. Morning errand runs even though he hates them. The banter—him, scolding your motor-mouth, you— never stopping. Circles he rubs on your knees— the laughter—damn it, so much laughter.
Steve? In love? With you? It’s more likely than you think.
Back in your bedroom and chastened, you wait until the front door closes signaling Steve’s exit. Turning to the wall dedicated to your impassioned analytical skills, you eye the various colors of yarn showing the various connections that could be drawn from the song choice and order in which they were placed.
Printed out pages of lyrics have been annotated to death, some phrases scrawled more largely than others for importance. You stare at the wall for the better part of an hour, long enough to come to the end of the playlist. Sufjan Stevens rhapsodizes on the mystery of love and fades into Matt Berninger singing how he needs his girl.
A gasp. A choke and a wail somewhere deep inside your chest as you slowly, methodically begin removing the pins and pages from your wall. Realization settling on you heavy with mood.
Clearly, this was not some bush-league bullshit.
Hesitant, but growing in the knowledge that Steve, your best friend whom you annoy to no end, is irrefutably and undeniably in love with you. You’d have seen it sooner if you weren’t such a dumbass, all the signs had been there just lying in wait. The front door opens once more, his voice calling out to Robin in the kitchen about dinner.
“Steve.” You light out of your room, tearing down the hallway. “Stevie! Steve! I’m sorry! Steve oh my god! I’m a fuckup!”
You trip on the corner of the floor runner, as he turns, slightly confused, one hand reaching out to catch you as you careen into his chest with a thunk.
You must look a wreck, hair in disarray and panting hard, him sweat-slick, bearing your weight as he sets you right on your feet.
Steve raises an eyebrow, blinks at the way the front of your shirt slides from your shoulder and takes his ear buds out, looking at you like you’re a first-rate idiot.
And well ... he’s not wrong.
The flight to Vegas is painless, though you are put out at having to leave the love nest that bloomed like a night flower in the Californian desert. A lazy, slow start to the day. Sticky and sweet like biting into a ripe peach, juices flowing down against sun-warmed skin.
His hand pulling at yours, guiding you through the crowds of the airport, looking back to you frequently, as if he can’t bring himself not to. One hour later and viva, Las Vegas!
As it turns out, it’s fairly easy to fake a Vegas elopement. Just a matter of subterfuge and a wedding chapel, which are a plenty in Clark County. Steve in a suit (“You weren’t even wearing a tie, Steven! Who gets married looking like that!?”), rotating the signet of his ring out of sight, the ‘H’ resiting against the underside of his ring finger so just the band was visible.
You in a dress, something white and off the rack from Neiman’s, your ring, courtesy of Steve, moved from your right hand to your left. Sapphire earrings as your something blue, Manolo Blahnik pumps in your favorite color, a gift from Steve, as your something new.
A well-timed call to Jonathan, he was in town for a shoot and just so happened to have a few hours to kill. An appointment at the Graceland Wedding Chapel and 250 dollars later, you have yourself a believable elopement, no marriage certificate required.
Even drove out to the Red Rock Mojave desert outside of town for a photoshoot courtesy of one Jonathan Byers, professional photographer. By the time you’d made it back to your room at the Wynn that night, he’d already done a rough edit of a few photos for you to post to the ‘gram. Piece of cake, really.
It was all well and good. Steve even let you tag him and posted his favorite images himself, miracle of miracles. The man does jack shit with social media, claims he only has the account for the groupchats and memes. Captioned it something like ‘married AF’ because he’s a dork; first photo in the carousel was a shot of your hands, showing off the new bling with the wedding chapel sign in the background.
You opted for the more truthful, ‘ew, boy. you’re, like, obsessed with me’ and selected a photo where your legs wrapped around Steve’s hips after he’d told you to ‘time to giddy-up, yeah?’ with a wink and caught you in his arms before kissing you stupid. You were quite pleased with yourself until the phones began to ring.
“Jus’ ignore it, honey.” His teeth pull against your bottom lip, bringing your attention back to him. You screw your eyes shut, hand falling to cup the nape of his neck as his lips continue their mapping of your skin. Purposefully, he plays with a lock of your hair, tucks it behind your ear, and lets his finger ghost over your neck. “Gonna kiss you now,” you murmurs, “Doin’ some of my best work here and you’re missing it.”
He pouts.
Your throat clenches, bobbing with a thick swallow and Steve thinks if this wasn’t so tender and sweet, he’d be latching onto that pulse instead. “Okay…” Your mouth parts expectantly, eyes fluttering closed, hand coming up to caress his jaw.
It’s sublime. It’s perfect. It’s the biggest relief he’s ever felt when you return his touch—parting your lips to receive the tip of his tongue against yours. Thirst. Desperation. Enthusiastic limbs scrambling to feel more of him. A bucking of your hips against his thigh and he’s soaring up into heaven with the sensation.
Except the damn phone won’t stop ringing.
“Steve,” you pant, hand reaching up to fist his hair and pull him from your the sensitive spot he’s located behind your ear. As you tangle your fingers in his mane of hair, securing your grip with a tug, he breaks contact with your slick skin with a strangled moan.
Oh.
You file that particular reaction away for further investigation and direct his attention to the loudly ringing phone on the nightstand. He rolls off of you with an exasperated noise and answers the call in a sulk. “Hi, Ma.”
His expression changes so quickly you nearly have whiplash; lazy and pouty one moment to shocked silent in the next while his mother lectures him, a mile a minute. Eyes cutting to you, he grabs your phone from the same table and holds it in font of you to unlock it via Face ID. You roll your eyes and bat him away, taking a slug of water from the glass on your bedside table.
“Shit,” Steve mutters, putting himself on mute and his mom on speaker as he scrolls through your phone. “Holy fucking shit, nonono.”
You lean over and take a peek. He’s thumbing through Facebook, pupils blown wide in shock at the sheer number of notifications on his accidental post. Because yes, Steve accidentally cross-posted the photos from Instagram to Facebook as an update, like genius.
“Are you fucking kidding me!?”
He drops your phone on the bed when it starts to ring, like it’s a venomous thing that could take him down in one strike.
Sheepishly, he looks to you and mouths ‘I’m so sorry’ as he returns to his mother’s raging diatribe.
After checking the caller ID, you answer, voice flat. “Hello.”
“You little scamp,” Eddie tuts, “Stole my idea of eloping in Vegas and everything, I hate you.”
In spite of yourself, you crack a smile. “It’s a prank, babe.” A sigh as you pull your hair up and off of your shoulders. “Not legally binding at all. Having Byers on deck really sold the idea though.”
“You are the absolute worst, Trouble.” You warm at his soft laughter, “What’d you do to get Steve to agree? Drop to you knees all nice and pretty?”
A swell of pride accompanies the rush of heat at the thought of your earlier rendezvous. “Y’know Eds, I did exactly that. How perceptive of you.”
He cackles. “It’s tried and true for a reason, babe.” Steve is nodding furiously at whatever his mother is yammering on about, bare back toward you as he sits on the edge of the bed.
A push and a slide across the rumpled sheets and you’ve wrapped around him like a vine. His thumb rubs at your ankle, pulling your leg to envelop his hip. Opposite arm dangling across his chest as you press your face into his neck, revelling in his scent—cypress, vetiver, and something slight musky tinged with salt. All warm and pliable.
“Nance may have called in some reinforcements.” Eddie says carefully. “I told her to fuck off, but she’s beyond reason at this point.”
“Whaddya mean?”
He sighs, “Just be on the lookout for an angry lesbian, alright?”
You snort, drawing Steve’s attention. He twists in your hold, phone discarded on the table finally, fingers trailing tantalizingly up and down your sides. Pushes you back against the bed, chin resting on your sternum as you talk with Eddie, head tilted as he listens.
Begging off the phone call, you say your goodbyes. “Hey,” Eddie says before you go, voice soft and warm, “You happy babe? You sound it.”
“Yeah,” you turn your head and grin at the ridiculousness of your life. Steve follows your lips, his own blazing a trail across your chest and up to meet your shoulder. “I’m really happy, Eds.”
Steve plucks the phone from your hand, “Bye Munson!” He sings before ending the call and unceremoniously dropping your phone on the floor.
And Steve never thought a person was supposed to laugh so hard during sex, or maybe that’s just your own brand of love, but he doesn’t want to find out with anyone else.
It’s the fifth time, and Steve’s dick is about to fall off—how are you still doing this—just a few thrusts in when the banging on the door frightens the both of you into your clothes.
Robin swings it open and Steve is desperately tucking himself into his pants before—please, no.
“It smells like ass in here!” She hollers, “The hell have you two been—oh my god.”
“Shut up, Rob!” You respond from the corner of the room, head ripping through the neck hole of a shirt, legs wiggling into a pair shorts. Steve is still shirtless, hoping he might spontaneously combust.
“Oh my god,” Robin whispers again, “Oh… my god.” She sputters on the verge of either eruption or death.
“You freaky little—” she hisses, before screaming, “Oh fuck no! I’m here picking your asses up. Got on a flight at ass o'clock from Indy— you're butt-ass-naked in here—” She stands ram-rod straight, hands on her hips angrily. “I’m tellin’ on you.”
“Telling on?! What are you, five!? You’re so annoying, Rob!”
“Annoying? What’s annoying is—I’m exhausted! And well— you're exhausted too, huh?”
“I hate you.”
She snickers, high-fiving herself before crossing her arms, “Now get your freaky asses outside so I can go home and drink myself into forgetting I ever saw Harrington’s dick.”
You pat her on the shoulder, “It’s nice, huh?”
Robin dry-heaves, “Uh-uh. That’s enough. Go wash your damn hands.”
A few minutes later, Steve closes the door to the now-silent hotel room, damp with sweat and the lingering aroma of musk. Robin trots on ahead, leading the pair of you through the lobby and out into the dry desert heat.
His hand pulls at yours, reassuring and warm. A small smile blooms across your face and you allow yourself to revel in it for a moment: heading home with Steve, can't even bring yourself to be all that mad at Robin's antics.
Not when he turns back to check on you, all tan skin and that devastating smile. Tugs you closer as Robin flags down the Uber, lays his lips against yours, and kisses you with a sweetness only he could bring.
Oh yeah, you think tangling your free hand in his shirt. This'll do just fine.
#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#reader insert#teacher!steve#the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy
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WIP Weekend! 🎺🎺🎺
Thank you for the tag @nburkhardt I'm excited for this! 😘🖤
The Rules:
In a reblog (or a new post w/ rules attached) post up to five (5) file names of your wips. Not titles, file names.
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We're posting progress here. If you haven't made any, go make some and come back to post!
After you've posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That's it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!
The WIPS:
(I'm usually much more organised with my file names)
Assistant Steve Harrington
Comeuppance
DND
Through The Valley
Return of The King
The Snippet:
From Through The Valley
“Munson, if she has something over you that makes you think you can’t switch to the better team then you’ve got to know we can help you out. No matter what it is. You have a lot of respect in this community, we could use that. And you wouldn’t be stuck acting as some little girls guard dog-”
Eddie swung around, pressing the barrel of his rifle into Chester Hagan’s neck, backing him into the wall. Hagen immediately threw his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide with fear, looking like he was about to piss himself.
“What if I like being a little girl's guard dog, what then?”
Hagen swallowed, shifting the muzzle ever so slightly around his throat. “S- so is it a sex thing? Because I’m sure we could find-”
“For the sake of your own head I’m encouraging you to stop talking now.”
“Right, right. Yeah. I’m… I’ll stop talking.”
“Good. Now listen to me very carefully. Under no circumstances whatsoever will I be persuaded, coerced, bought or bullied away from Nancy’s side. This town voted her their leader and unless the majority no longer wants her overlooking things, it’s going to stay that way.” He pushed the barrel of the gun in harder, right under his jaw. “But if I ever get approached by you or one of your goons trying to get me to switch sides or go behind Nancy’s back for information again, I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your eye. We both know I’ll do it and I won't lose a wink of sleep over it."
😳🥵
No pressure tags! I'm sorry if you've been tagged already, my brain is ✨liquid✨ @augustjustice @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @every-aj-needs-an-angel @scoops-stevie @estrellami-1 @grimmfitzz
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hey hey!! first wanted to say your writing is amazing and you are so skilled! i come with a cyberpunk/silverhand idea -- after the game ends (specifically The Sun ending) obvi Johnny and V part ways, and V inherits the Afterlife. my idea is that she keeps herself very low profile but also remains friends with Kerry and goes to dives to perform with him when at one gig REAL Johnny shows up after looking everywhere and it's a whole reunion with mutual pining and maybe a little reunion spice?🥵💦
When We Meet Again (Johnny Silverhand x Reader)
summary: You and Johnny find each other again, even after you were separated.
tags: SMUT, reunion, mentions of death, bar bathroom sex, there is actually a plot to this lol, kissing, hugging, bent over a bathroom sink, sexual jokes, Johnny has a body, Reader is called V, use of the word cunt, oral (f. receiving), choking kind of, Johnny makes you watch him fuck you
a/n: bro you just requested this and it sent my ideas going wild bro also thank you so much 😭😭😭 this is literally 2.4k words of my love for Johnny so I hope you all enjoy it!!!
Becoming a Legend sure is a kick in the ass.
It was all you had ever wished for and now you sit in a seedy bar that, thankfully, isn’t The Afterlife. Kerry by your side, the both of you praying that no one would notice you in this shithole. Any semblance of alone time is a blessing for the both of you.
How did Rogue do this? You didn’t even think you’d survive the gig from Mr. Blue Eyes, but, fortune favored the bold apparently. After losing Johnny, somehow surviving surgery, and now being the main proprietor of The Afterlife, you had it all. The only thing strumming through your mind is how much you missed Johnny, spending five months with him changed your life in so many ways and all you could do now is think about him. He drove you crazy and you missed him like hell. Sometimes, you’d get together with Kerry in these shitty little bars and play some SAMURAI songs with Denny and Nancy, for old time’s sake. You sometimes wish he’d just pop in, just once. Of course, that’d also make you think you were going crazy again.
You hear the door open and look up to see Nancy, who alerts the bartender, “So, you guys excited to play again?” Kerry rolls his eyes and pushes his hair back, aloof as always. Must come with superstar territory, you joke to yourself and look to Nancy, giving her a warm smile and nod, “Yeah! Denny gonna be here soon?” Nancy nods as she goes to set up on the stage, “Should be here in a few, she sent me a call on the holo!” She calls over to you as you finish your drink and hop off of the barstool to go help Nancy set up for the show.
“You know,” She says quietly to you, “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I haven’t seen Kerry so happy in a long time. He really enjoys doing these.” You scoff a little, “He doesn’t seem…” She shakes her head a bit and gives you a smile as she tunes your guitar, “It’s the fame. I do it too, Night City is cruel, likes to take away things you care about, you’ll figure that out now that you’re in charge of The Afterlife.” If only she knew… You thought to yourself: If only she knew how Night City had already taken away too many people from me: Johnny, Jackie, Rogue… You sigh to yourself as she places a supportive hand on your shoulder, just for a second before taking it away, Denny walks in, sending you a polite smile and a wave which you quickly return to her. Kerry downs his drink quickly before making his way over to you all on the stage, applying his eyeliner as he walks.
“How the hell do you do that?” You ask quizzically and he laughs a bit, “Years of practice, kiddo. You’ll get it one of these days.” He makes his way onto the stage as you all finish setting up, a small crowd has formed, it’s usually pretty low-key at these events but word gets out sometimes. “Hey, guys! Good to see you here tonight!” You call out as the lights dim, and the crowd cheers with support. People had gotten used to you performing as Johnny, and you’d quickly found your way around SAMURAI’s guitar notes and vocals, the DeLuze Orphean still feels preem in your hands, the way the strings burn slightly into your fingers as you begin to play and the crowd’s excitement grows quickly. You had developed a small group of fans as the new “vocalist” of SAMURAI, which was officially, still not a band but more a relic of the first quarter of the 21st-century.
C-Can you feel it?
Can you touch it?
Get ready ‘cause here we go!
The lyrics burn at your throat like a fire that cannot be easily quenched, you watch the crowd, their cheering combining with the noise of the music into a cacophony of passion.
Not backing down!
Never backing down!
Not backing down!
Yeah!
Your smile is wide as you and Kerry turn back to back, singing together and playing guitars side by side, you’re so caught up in the vibrant atmosphere until you see a familiar figure walk in, the red hue of sunglasses catching your eye. You pause, just for a second, to stare.
Johnny fucking Silverhand. It was him, somehow, in your life again. Somehow alive again. Really alive, with a body and everything. You might have cried on stage if you weren’t so dedicated to doing this and letting him see you do this.
Suits run when I come undone!
Can't kill me, I'm zero and one!
Add justice to the people's math!
Blaze your way down the rebel path!
Your eyes are glued to Johnny and he’s grinning, with a wide, child-like smile at you. You’ve never seen him that happy. You really hoped this was him, not some sick fuck trying to make money off of a lie. Your mind raced through any number of reasons why this couldn’t be Johnny, you couldn’t let yourself be vulnerable yet, not after the past seven months of running for your life from a seemingly inevitable, premature death.
C-Can you feel it?!
Can you touch it?!
Get ready cause here we go!
C-Can you feel it?!
Can you touch it?!
Get ready cause here we go!
The song comes to a close quickly, “Thanks for coming guys! We’re gonna take a quick ten-minute break and come back on!” While there’s a collective bit of confusion from the crowd, there is no argument. You liked this crowd more than the mercs at The Afterlife, you’d decided. Less whiny.
You run off the stage, looking at Johnny with your own eyes. “This isn’t real.” You whisper as he shakes his head, “It is, do you finally wanna see my cock?” He asks, chuckling to himself as you gasp, glaring at him. “Okay, I’m gonna ask you something only the real Johnny would know.” He takes off his sunglasses and rolls his eyes, but nods to let you proceed, “Okay before we left for Mikoshi, what did I tell you that I wish I had gotten to do with you.” He chuckles throatily, “Are you sure you want me to answer this around other people, because what I remember you saying is,” He raises his voice about an octave, to mock you a bit, “Oh, Johnny! I just wish I could feel your hot, impressive cock in my cunt, really bending me over this bed, or I really wish that I could ride your cock on a stage.” Your face flushes and tears threaten to fall from your eyes, this is Johnny Silverhand, your former brain parasite. You wrap your arms around his body, and it feels exactly as you thought it would. His hands rub at the small of your back, comforting you as you sob into his chest.
“H-How are you here?” You asked, looking up at him with wide eyes, “I’m not sure,” He says quietly, “I just woke up and I’m in my body. My living former body.” You shake your head in disbelief, if this was a dream, it was fucked up on your part. You pinch yourself hard and gasp at the pain, not a dream in the slightest. You grab onto Johnny’s tank top and bring his lips to yours, he’s alive and you’re not going to waste a minute more.
“Where are you going, V?” Kerry asks you as you drag Johnny into the bathroom, a smirk growing on his lips, “I’m taking twenty, Ker! Play a song where you sing alone!” Kerry looks quizzical at your rushing, you’re normally never like this but he accepts this answer as you shut the bathroom door and lock it.
“I’ve dreamed about this for so long.” You murmur, as Johnny chuckles, “Not as long as I have. I haven’t fucked in fifty years, you’re gonna feel this for a week.” Until now, his hot breath against your neck is something you hadn’t wished for. Your lips on Johnny’s an action that feels right, pulling away for air from this man that you have longed for? It only serves to feel wrong, you’d willingly die with Johnny’s lips on yours. Your hands thread through his hair as he lets out a quiet groan of approval, “I’m going to fuck the hell out of you.” You let out a whine as he chuckles, trapping your body between him and the bathroom sink, his hands trail the length of your body, working you out of your clothes, quickly, and expertly. You’ve technically, never slept together but he knows everything that makes you tick, everything that turns you on. He unbuckles his belt with a pronounced click, and his pants hit the dirty floor of the bar bathroom, he spins you around, “So fuckin’ wet, I’ve barely even touched you. You miss me while I was gone?”
You feel hot at his words and as you feel his fingers dip in between your thighs, lapping up the nectar, which now covers his fingers. He brings his fingers to your lips, “Come on babe, open your mouth so you can taste yourself.” Your lips part, almost on command as you feel his hard cock, growing and pulsing against the small of your back. As you suck on his fingers, his lips come to your neck, kissing it at first, tender, something you’d never believed Johnny would do. His small, tender neck kisses lead to bites, not hard enough to hurt you, but hard enough to make you weak in the knees and grow your arousal. Kerry’s going to have a field day teasing you about this. “Spread your legs for me, come on, V.” You part your legs, and expect his cock to slip in without much fanfare, silly considering this is Johnny. Johnny’s lips quickly come off of your neck and travel down your body, before ending up at your arousal. His lips tease at your clit, surrounding the bundle of nerves, your legs are weak as you hold onto the sink for any kind of leverage, “Fuck you taste so damn good,” You hear his growl as his tongue slips inside of you.
As Johnny tonguefucks your cunt skillfully, you cannot help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. His hands grip against the flesh of your thighs, and it isn’t until you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, flushed skin, the peak of Johnny’s head, practically drowning in your most sensitive parts, it almost brings you to the brink of an orgasm right then and there.
“J-Johnny! ‘M gonna-- gonna cum, Johnny!” His name sounds incredible when it falls from your lips, “Not yet, baby.” He croons, sliding his tongue out of you. You whine with a hint of frustration, causing him a small laugh. “I want to feel the way your cunt tightens around my cock when you cum, so you’re just gonna have to wait a little bit longer. His cock throbs against your skin and you feel Johnny bring the head of it to the heat that burns between your legs, the feeling of wetness slicking your thighs as well as Johnny’s face. The head of his cock presses against your pussy, slicking it as he pushes it inside of you with a deep groan.
It’s been fifty years for him, this all on its own is perfect. “So damn tight around me, fuckin’ perfect.” He whispers into your ear as he thrusts his cock inside of you. His hand comes to your neck, not wrapping too tightly, just enough to cause a gasp in surprise as he forces your head to face the mirror, “You’re gonna watch while I,” He hits the most sensitive spot inside of you, causing you to gasp and almost making you lose control, “Fuck you senseless.” You nod, eyes trained on the mirror as Johnny’s hand moves from your throat to your breasts, he squeezes at the flesh, pinching your nipple in between his two fingers. You gasp at the sensation, the soft grip his hands have on you, it’s all too much. “Johnny, I’m-!” Johnny groans again as he nods, “Come on baby, cum all over my cock, all for me.” And with that, you come undone. The only sensation is that of Johnny filling you to the brim with his seed and your cunt, willingly throbbing around his cock. He pulls himself out of you, helping you redress into your clothes. The music outside tells you that Kerry is enjoying some solo time for himself to show off a little, you laugh as you clasp your bra behind you. “I missed you, Johnny… fuck, I can’t believe it’s really you.” He smiles at you, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. He kisses your lips, softer this time. Despite the fact that this isn’t a dream and this isn’t a joke, you don’t know if you can trust your mind enough to actually believe this.
“I’ve gotta go and finish the concert but… will you stay? Come with me to The Afterlife later?” You ask, almost scared that he’ll leave you again. He smiles a smile that you love more now that it’s really him. “Of course, I’ll stay. I wanna see how cool you look performing my songs.” Definitely is Johnny, you think to yourself, laughing softly. Before you go to unlock the bathroom door, he stops you with one more kiss, “Hey,” He speaks softly, it’s intimate, “I just want you to know, I’m never leaving you again.” You smile and kiss him once more before unlocking the door. Thankful for the confirmation that for the rest of your days, it’ll be you and Johnny.
#johnny silverhand x reader#johnny silverhand#cyberpunk 2077#johnny silverhand x you#cyberpunk2077#fanfiction#fanfics#x reader fanfiction#x reader fanfic#johnny silverhand x v
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It was (mostly) quiet on the Nancy Drew set this week. Could it be it that much of what they filmed was super spoilery? Friday especially was quiet with many ppl (Maddison, Leah, Riley, Michael Sangalang) enjoying offset activities. As always, I hope for a Nace-centric scene being shot (closed set would be even better!)!!
UPDATE: Of course right after I posted this blog there was a fab set photo posted by Maddison featuring an adorable Tunji and Leah. Love Tunji’s expression at Leah’s antics, it’s so Nick and George.
There were a few more tidbits throughout the week, especially from the crew, so as promised I’m sharing them here in case you missed them.
Our favorite DP Nick Thomas shared some more beautiful photos from the (you guessed it) woods set this week in his stories. This one in particular gives a glimpse of some of the cast if you squint real hard (bottom right corner).
AD Michael Sangalang and Steadicam operator Shaoyun Wang each posted set pics hinting at a university setting. George’s school, perhaps? And yes, I looked up Clifton University and couldn’t find one in Vancouver or Maine so have concluded it’s a fictitious name (I know, I’m obsessive). Pretty sure this is for Ep. 5.
Everyone’s favorite ND director, Larry Teng, is in town to prep for directing Episode 6 (he’s also directing Ep. 8). He gave the first of what I hope is many hints and BTS content on Twitter. Here’s hoping he’s talking about the big curse breaking episode!
On the cast front, we saw Maddison with gorgeous new highlights, and Kennedy (the best show lead ever) sharing fan art and giving us a glimpse of an Ep. 5 fit (I’m thinking this brown cardigan and matching scarf go under the blazer we saw in last Friday’s woodsy shenanigans). Kennedy’s dad posted a cute family pic, and Kennedy shared another musical hint about the state of Nace from Leah in the form of singer Jensen McRae, and then fangirled when Jensen responded. Celebrities, they’re fans, too!
I have to mention Leah Lewis’s appearance at Disney’s D23 on Friday and the announcement that she is STARRING in Pixar’s Elemental! She’s plays a fiery character named Ember, so apt. So happy for her, well deserved!!
On the ND fan fic front, I’m not publishing a new chapter of The Space Between this week. I am usually ahead 1-2 chapters but I managed to catch up and needed a little more time to get Chapter 7 right. It’s in a great place now (hint - Nancy and Ace are testing a loophole with the curse and it’s 🔥), so look for it next week. Chapter 1-6 are up if you haven’t read it or need to catch up.
In the meantime, I HIGHLY recommend LikesToSolveThePuzzle’s latest VERY NSFW chapter of The Interrogation Game. It’s insanely hot, takes place on a plane where Nancy and Ace are NOT happy with each other 🥵, and features a cameo from Tamura. I won’t say anymore but I promise it’s worth the read!!
Bye for now and thanks for reading! Let me know your favorite fanfic so I can feature it here in future!
#nancy drew#nace#nancy drew cw#ace [redacted]#nancy x ace#cw nancy drew#ndcw#ace x nancy#nace fanfic#nacefanfiction#nancy drew season 4#nancy drew fanfiction#kennedy mcmann#maddison jaizani#leah lewis#tunji kasim#alex saxon#ndcentral#nacesource#Elemental#disney pixar#Nancy Drew s4#author: pluckysidekick
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Nace Appreciation Week | Day Seven: Free Choice
A little “snapshot moment” fic inspired by the recent picture of the cast during filming for season 4 that revealed the RETURN OF ACE’S EARRING (*rejoice*)!!! Didn’t have a ton of time to flesh this one out, so it’s short, but I would loveeeee to see a moment in season 4 where Nancy blatantly oggles his earring, because that sh*t would be hot, hot, hot 🥵
Nancy couldn’t stop looking at it.
She had arrived at Horseshoe Bay’s Cemetery eight minutes ago, and for 7 of those minutes, she found herself mesmerized by the familiar glint coming from Ace’s left ear. She hadn’t noticed it immediately, mostly because she was too distracted by how good he looked in his suit. She had never seen this particular suit before, a deep navy blue, and suspected Ace saved it specifically for days he needed to transport bodies from the morgue to the funeral home for a service.
It was only when Ace approached them, instinctually tucking a wisp of hair behind his ear, that she noticed he had his earring in again. The little silver hoop had been MIA for weeks, and Nancy was surprised by how much she found herself missing it. She felt like the earring gave her an infinitesimal glimpse into Ace’s edgier side, but it only left her wanting more. So when the earring disappeared completely, it felt like part of Nancy disappeared as well.
Not to mention, Nancy just found the piercing insanely hot. And seeing it back on his ear, reflecting off the ambient lighting of the funeral home’s lobby was suddenly making Nancy feel very warm…
She pulled at the collar of her black turtle neck in an attempt to cool down, and watched Ace’s gaze follow her movement, lingering on her neck a little too long. She took the opportunity to glance back at the earring, and let her mind wander a moment.
She began imagining what it might be like to bite the earring playfully. Would it give him goosebumps? Or maybe it would tickle? Perhaps he’d make a sound of surprise, or better yet, approval.
A small, illogical part of Nancy wanted to go find another lust-filled wedding dress to infect herself with so that she’d have a valid excuse to actually go through with her dirty little daydream.
And then Ace spoke.
“You guys ready to check out that dead body I told you about?” He deadpanned.
And all the heat that had been building up in Nancy was extinguished, just like that.
Fin
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I just got a chance to read the third chapter of The Risk in this Kiss. And my heart is breaking for both of them! I wanted Billy to rip into the people on the basketball team. Poor Steve, I just wanted to cuddle him and pet his fluffy hair. I love Dustin and Will being his kryptonite, because I too would break and spoil them with whatever they wanted because they are so adorable! They would get away with so much and love that Dustin is in tune with Steve to know there is something wrong! I feel sorry for Billy because of each rejection but from a reader standpoint you can tell that Steve is doing it to protect himself( and Billy) and knowing it’s a trauma bond. Just ugh it’s so good and love that your are expanding the timeline in the story! Love it! I’m so glad I watched the show to read your story and to figure out who the boy with the pretty blue eyes and long curly locks was. Ugh slay me 🥵
Steve is literally just in survival mode. Doesn't have the energy to try and pretend he's fine, so he doesn't. Tries to keep it together for the thing that he thinks matters (basketball) but gives that up too cos coming to terms with the team not caring about him anymore is too hard to deal with. Can't be around Nancy and doesn't trust himself to be around Billy, too heart sick to be around his only other friend Jonathan and too afraid to give Billy a chance.
The saddest thing I think about any version of Steve but specifically Omega Steve is how he's had to cope by himself for so long that finding someone he could trust (Nancy) and then having it torn away from him means that it he's WORSE than he was before her. It's one thing to cope and survive on your own your whole life, that's just how life is and its fine. But to have a YEAR with someone who made you think about "forever" and then trying to go back to doing it alone?? ARGH!
Also, yeah FUCK the boy with pretty blue eyes and long hair UGH.
I am not the sort to be Flustered by most peen-owners cos generally... no. Like obvs I love the characters and I'd go to the moon and back for my faves, but as far as like me IRL being That Sorta Flustered over an actor or character? Nah.
(I did bite right through my goddamn tongue the first time I saw Hela but nobody blames me for that.)
So yeah. Peen owners don't usually do it for me.
BUT The very first time I saw Billy on screen I went "OH MY " and had to turn off the TV so thats-- yeah. Welcome to the chaos. This is a 'we love billy' blog now.
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