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riaki · 5 months

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nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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elliebarker · 22 days

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yessss cc fic plz there’s not nearly enough

fuɔk me. ( c. clark )

category: caitlin clark x girlfriend!reader (angst, fluff)

summary: after seeing you talking to another after one of her games, caitlin goes into an obsessive spiral of jealousy, unknowingly sending you down your own rabbit hole.

warnings: way sadder than i intended

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: i tried capital letters, y’all fw it?

_________________________________________

“I mean, it was electric, truly.”

Caitlin’s voice echoed into the microphone of a random media reporter who was interviewing her. She tried her best to stay focused on the questions whilst the camera clicked and pump-up music blared. Iowa had just won a home game and she knew you were in the crowd. She regained consciousness with the present and began answering the interview questions with basic textbook answers about ‘the Iowa culture’ and how great her shots felt, whilst scouring the stadium for you. You interlocked eyes and waved to her. She waved back and politely wrapped things up with the media girl (hehe) and headed your way.

In the minutes she had spent with her eyes off of you, an umich girl from the opposing team had walked up to you. She was, in Caitlin’s eyes, getting a little too friendly. Smirking, and smiling too wide. Caitlin backed away, choosing to head to her teammates instead and pose in photos with fans. See… people love me she thought. And we literally bet them and that fucking umich girl had the nerv-

“Caitlin!” you ran, hugging her from behind. “You do so good, omg!”

“Thanks, babe.” She slipped away from you, cold and isolated. Caitlin spent the night with the girls on her team, which wasn’t irregular for away games, but you were looking forward to getting to spend time with her when she was actually in town. You were slumped in your apartment, staring at yourself in the mirror, picking a pulling at your skin, hair, and hair. Meanwhile, Caitlin was glued to her phone in the corner of the room her teammates were in. Staring at that umich girl’s stats and Instagram. Caitlin knew she was a good player, she knew she was a good girlfriend, she knew you. She knew you wouldn’t do her wrong but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. About finding someone different. She knew she wasn’t there for you all the time, on account of her schedule with basketball that seemed never-ending. She felt like a bad girlfriend. You deserved the world, more than she could ever give you.

Sounds of shoes squeaking and balls dribbling filled her ears as Caitlin entered Iowa’s gym. After nights of stressing, overthinking, and flashes of your interaction with the umich girl appearing in her head, Caitlin was ready to clear her head with some practice. She stretched, dripped the ball a bit, and began shooting. First shot, miss. She went and grabbed the ball. Second shot, miss. Everyone has bad days. The third shot, she could barely focus, overwhelmed with this stinging feeling of inferiority as she missed that basket. “Fuɔk me,” she muttered under her breath. She suddenly turned around when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Kate was standing, now facing her. “Hey Caitlin, can we talk?”

“Yeah of course, what’s up?”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of off…down, you okay?”

“Um yeah,” she tried to hold her guard up, “yeah, I’m fine.” She smiled, “Need to lock in.” Kate laughed, agreed, and went on with her practice.

Later that day you, being friendly with the Iowa team, reached out to Kate. You texted her,

You: hi kate!

i haven’t seen caitlin in a bit and just wanted to check in and make sure she’s doing okay

Kate: Hey! Thanks for reaching out, she has been acting a little weird.

I was going to ask you but I guess you don’t know what’s up either.

You: no, i don’t know

has she talked about me?

at all?

Kate: No, not really. Is everything okay?

You: (…)

You stared at your phone for a solid five minutes attempting to keep your emotions under control.

You: yep! everything's good

just been a hot minute since ive seen her

but thats prob just cause shes so busy lol

Kate: Fair. But if anything does you can always talk to me.’

You: awww thanks kate! that's so sweet.

Days passed and you finally got a day to spend with Caitlin. You had invited her over to your apartment. You had excitedly and worriedly done up your hair and makeup, cleaned and refreshed every inch of your apartment: fresh sheets and fresh flowers, and made sure to wear an outfit you knew she liked. You felt it in your bones that your behavior was suspicious and 100% fueled by insecurity but you told yourself that you were doing this to make Caitlin feel comfortable, let her relax from working so hard. Totally not convincing her to want to stay with you.

You and Caitlin were in your bed watching a tv-show and you could sense something was off. “Hey baby, can I get you anything?” you ask, trying to make yourself useful.

“Um, yeah sure,” she replied, “water works.” You scoot yourself off the bed and head to the kitchen. Caitlin watches as you walk away, thinking about how you’re perfect in every way. She pulls out her phone, and her most recent search on instagram, umich bitch, is controlling her thoughts again.

You come back with a glass of water for Caitlin and see she’s engulfed in her phone. Goddamnit you’ve bored her.

“I’m sorry,” you muster out. The stress of the possible end of your relationship that you conquered up in your head makes you almost fold into tears.

Caitlin sprung up, “Sorry, babe, sorry about what?” she went to hold you. You slithered yourself out of her arms,

“You’re probably sick of me, I need to stop holding onto you.”

“What?” Caitlin asked, “Okay, first of all, I would never be sick of you. You are the most gorgeous, fearless, kindest, perfect girl I’ve ever seen. I would be crazy to ever let you go. But I know you deserve, you need better than me.” your tears turned to happy ones as you exclaimed,

“Caitlin what? You are the best girlfriend in the whole wide world.” You grabbed her face in your hands as hers found their natural place around your hips.

“I love you,” she whispered before moving her face close to yours and kissing you passionately. Your arms wrapped themselves around her neck as you leaned into the kiss. You slightly pulled away, whispering back,

“I love you too.” Caitlin then pulled open her phone, to delete the umich player from her search history, but not without catching your nosy eye. “Wait. This was about her?”

“What?” Caitlin said, trying to sound clueless.

“I spoke to her for five seconds? Wait…you were jealous?” you inquired.

“No- I- who-” she stuttered, trying to deny it. “Also, I don’t get jealous.”

“You goofball,” you said, pulling her into a deeper kiss, to which Caitlin picked you up and plopped you back onto your bed, pulling you into her chest, and kissing your forehead.

“I don’t get jealous” she re-enstated.

“Mhmmmmm…” you replied, nodding your head, in a non-believeing tone. “Got it. Not jealous.”

“I’m being serious,” she said. You, too lazy to lift your head, nodded and closed your eyes falling into a deep sleep, to which Caitlin would follow you.

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #wbb #ncaa wbb #wbb x reader #caitlin x reader #wbb fanfic #caitlin clark fic

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strawberryspence · 1 year

Text

I love the headcanon that Steve takes care of everybody and when he gets home, Eddie takes care of him. But I love it more when Steve doesn’t really know?

Like yeah, sometimes before he goes to work Eddie makes him sandwiches for lunch but that’s only because he was already making one.

Yeah, ever since Eddie and Steve started living together, it seems like Steve’s shampoos are bottomless. Steve found out that Eddie buys the shampoo so he never runs out, but that’s only because Eddie likes it for his long hair.

Yeah, Steve knows Eddie hates doing the laundry. But sometimes when he comes home, his work clothes have been folded and have been cleaned already. But that’s only because Eddie’s already doing a load.

It doesn’t really click with Steve, that this one person who loves him, is taking care of him. Maybe it’s the lack of caring from his parents, or maybe it’s because he grew up alone. But it’s not clicking to him.

It clicks for him one afternoon.

The sun is beaming high in the sun, but there’s a lovely breeze sweeping that keeps them cool. Lucas and Mike are screaming at each other as they pass the ball at each other. It’s not the best team up, but it’s not really a great practice if it’s just Steve and Lucas. So they’ve somehow convinced Dustin and Mike to come, in exchange of Steve finally trying to learn D&D.

Steve’s wiping his sweat with his shirt as he watches Dustin explain the science behind basketball. Something about velocity and gravity and mathematics. Steve’s trying his best to ignore it.

“Steve!” He hears Eddie call from the sides. He’s been sitting there the whole time, watching and laughing.

Steve jogs closer to his boyfriend, who immediately hands him a hand towel.

Steve blinks at the towel, “What’s this for?”

“For your sweat, sweetheart.”

“Oh.”

Steve reluctantly wipes his sweat with it. Maybe Eddie packed a towel for himself and decided to give it him instead. He knows Eddie also hates sweating under the sun.

“Water?” Eddie looks up at him with a smile, a bottle of water in hand.

Steve squints at him, worry clear on his face, "What about you? It’s pretty hot, baby.”

Eddie smiles at him, “I bought one for myself. I bought that one for you.”

Huh. That's... great.

“Thank you for bringing me water. I forgot to pack myself one.”

Eddie smirks at him, but there’s something endearing twinkling in his eyes, “I know. You always do. You always pack for the kids and me and Robin and then forget about yourself.”

The sentiment could melt him, there and then. But instead, Steve looks around, checking his surroundings before he kisses Eddie’s cheek in gratitude. Steve turns so he can go back to the boys who’s still fighting over the science behind basketball when he hears Eddie running after him.

“Stevie! Wait!”

He turns, watching as Eddie runs up to him, “Yeah?”

Steve’s eyes widen in surprise when Eddie suddenly kneels in front of him. There’s a drumming in his heart that makes him feel like he’s having an actual heart attack. He knows— He knows that Eddie’s not proposing to him on a random Saturday morning, in a random basketball court in the middle of Hawkins. There’s also the fact that they can’t actually marry each other. But with Eddie kneeling in front of him, Steve feels an intense longing for a ring on his finger.

Steve blinks back into reality when he feels Eddie’s hands against his feet. Eddie is— Eddie is tying his shoes for him???

When he finally comes up again, Eddie is smiling at him, big and gummy and brighter than the whole sun, “Your shoe laces are untied. I think I forgot to re-tie them this morning before we went out.”

“You’ve been tying my shoes? Every morning?” Steve whispers, disbelief laces unto every word.

Eddie nods at him, there's an expression of pride on his face, “Every morning since we started living together.”

And here’s the thing, Steve thought he was doing a good job hiding it. He does know how to tie his shoe laces, but he does it super slow and has to redo it multiple times. It’s one of the things that makes him feel— dumb. Like he's an actual idiot. How could Steve fight monsters and he can’t fucking put the bunny’s ear into the other fucking loop? He doesn't know who to be mad at, no one really taught him how to do it. He learned it from a book in the library with no visuals.

“I— I— I don’t know what to say.” Steve stutters, “How do you even know that? I’ve never told anyone.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I won’t tell anyone.” Eddie shrugs, smiling at him, “I saw you one morning struggling to do it. I think I heard you singing that bunny song and I thought I’d make your life a little easier by tying it, so you can just slip into it, ya know?”

“Oh.” Steve blinks back at him, the tears starting to pool on his eyes, “Thank you.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for taking care of you. It’s my favorite thing to do in this whole world.” Eddie stares at him, brushing a few wisps of hair out of his face.

With the way Eddie is staring at him, he already knows that Eddie knows what he’s thinking about, what the tears in his eyes signify.

“Go play with the boys. They’re suspiciously quiet.” Eddie snickers, “We’ll talk when we get home, hmm?”

Steve searches in his eyes, there’s a morbid part of him that thinks Eddie is realizing that he doesn’t want to be with Steve anymore. Maybe he's realizing how much of a burden Steve truly is. But there’s nothing in Eddie’s eyes that says that. There’s only love and warmth and tenderness all mashed together in two sparkling brown eyes.

“Okay.” Steve answers quietly.

“Okay.” Eddie pats his cheeks before walking back to the place where he’s sitting.

And Steve walks back to the kids and they start playing again. When he looks at Eddie, Eddie’s always tracking him with his eyes, smiling and waving at him as soon as their eyes meet.

They’ll talk later. They’ll talk about how Steve doesn’t know what it feels like to be cared for, and how his parents ruined him. They'll talk about how Steve is cared for now, that their own little found family cares for him so much. They'll talk about healing and changing.

But for now, the fact that Eddie— a person that truly loves him— takes care of him without wanting anything in exchange, is more than good enough.

#see #i can write fluff #this is fluff to me #HMP #steddie #steddie fics #steddie headcanons #steddie hc #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson fluff #steve harrington x eddie munson #dae writes #daeheadcanons

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soobnny · 10 months

Text

classmate au | nishimura riki

❝ did you guys see that? i was the one who taught her how to do that!❞

nishimura riki….

the absolute menace that this boy is

The Class Clown

being seatmates with him is probably the worst decision you have ever made

not bc of him and his jokes !!!!!

no he’s very funny actually

he makes you laugh all the time

he just ALWAYS whispers the wrong answer to you during oral recitation

and you ALWAYS fall for it

“what is the second stage of cell division?”

“meiosis,” he’d whisper so confidently

“m…meiosis?” you ask more to him bc u know he’s wrong but the teacher hears you anyway 😭😭😭

he is just SOOOOO !!!! unbearable

also btw he calls u by ur last name

the type to be close friends with all the teachers

he’d just casually reply to them in class (ofc in a respectful enough manner)

always makes the class laugh

he’s always doing some shit honestly like just don’t try to understand him atp

he likes to switch with the person seated behind you sometimes so he can sit beside a close friend but ALSO so he can play with your hair

ni-ki will just do ANYTHING .. put your hair in poor braids, put it in a ponytail ltrly anything

he has started his own hair salon behind you

tells you not to fix your hair for the rest of the day

so yes you end up sporting his poorly styled ponytail where some strands are sticking out

also the type to draw on your arm

in the case that he doesn’t switch with the person behind you, he’ll just start drawing on your arm

ANYTHING absolutely anything

hearts … maybe even a dick im sorry he is a Man and he will start giggling to himself when he draws it on your forearm

tbh u just let him do it

it’s bc he looks so cute … like he’s so focused on your arm while you’re focused on your teacher

during those class seminars, he is STILL seated next to you

but you guys don’t listen to the speaker most of the time

he’ll have the 8ball app loaded on his phone and you guys will just silently play billiards on his phone

changes ur contact name to “sucks at 8ball”

when it’s his turn to make a move, you try and pay attention to the speaker

but then he nudges your arm to signal that it’s your turn and he hands you his phone so you can make a move

BTW idk how to explain this but the seats r like those in the movie theaters

imagine …. your arms on the same arm rest … side by side …. touching

he is actually so slick with it

unlike jake, you’ll often find him at the volleyball court instead of the basketball court

you enjoy sitting at the sides too

ur friends like playing so sometimes they’d play against riki or on the same team as him and you’d just watch as u wait for ur sibling to get u from school

or until you can commute back home with your friends

sometimes you’d join too

BUT only after telling them you’re bad at the sport over and over and over again and them telling you it’s ok over and over and over again too

you finally join in and play volleyball with them with the reassurance that they’re just playing for fun !!!!!!

honestly it’s so much fun but Menace Riki loves to target the ball in ur direction

(it’s so you can play too since most of the time … the ball doesn’t go in ur direction so ure just awkwardly standing in ur position ��‍♀️)

the next day, this mf drags u out of class HIMSELF to the direction of the volleyball court and teaches you how to set

“okay, hands above ur forehead, okay? 😒” and u’re just trying to take his directions

he’d be soooooo annoying when you set a ball properly for the first time too

would ltrly turn to everyone in the court with his loud mouth and start praising you

“hey, did you guys see that?? i taught her how to do that !!! i’m her mentor”

ofc it becomes something about Him instead but it’s just cuz he can’t risk everyone knowing about his big fat crush on you

(sucks to be him bc everyone already knows like … have you seen the way he looks at you?)

he’s secretly so proud and plays volleyball with you to the side instead of playing an actual match

it’s to help you improve

bc he’s your self-proclaimed mentor 🥹

and when his friends drag him to play, he’ll insist you play too on the same team as him

you know how like .. one touch .. two touch .. volleyball is until three right?

ni-ki loves to set the ball or toss it to you so you can actually play too

your hype boy 😍😍😍😍

another funny story with this boy was when you and your friend were on your way to go home

and it started raining

ni-ki’s bff and ur bff r dating ok !!!

so naturally, his best friend leaves his side to shade his gf (ur bff) with an umbrella

now u’re left behind with riki

u do NOT expect him to grab his umbrella, open it up, and tell you to start walking with u

shields you so now you’re following behind ur dating bffs

honestly it’s actually kind of a cute memory

sharing an umbrella .. so romantic 🥰

ofc ur friends tease u !!! those who witnessed it happen and when u and ur friend r safely sheltered from the rain,, riki’s bff starts pushing him and teasing him for finally making a move

the direction ni-ki needs to go to isn’t even where he had walked u to but he still did it so you wouldn’t get sick

ANYWAYS he’s the teasing to get ur attention when he has a crush type so

good luck

expect him to always be up in your business and calling your name out

just embarrassing you in all possible ways

ALL GOOD INTENTIONS i swear

he’s just bad at expressing his feelings

u guys r just an old married couple bickering in class sometimes

your classmates start making bets on when you two will finally start dating

when he finally asks you out, his cocky teasing behavior is just thrown out the window

he stutters and scratches the back of his head and looks anywhere but to you

indirectly asks you out

“wanna eat um street foods after class?”

“who’s coming with,” you’d ask

“JUST ME… just me. just us…”

ltrly something as simple as that has him blushing all over 😭

he has no problem embarrassing u and drawing dicks on ur arms and calling ur name in the hallway and throwing an arm around ur shoulder

but the moment he asks u to eat out with him ?? even just for street food ?? bye he’s so shy and nervous

it’s SOOOO unlike him

“oh, sure!”

his eyes would light up please stop

then his cocky behavior would come back a little .. just enough to be tsundere as he is

“okay… don’t think i wanna hangout with you alone or anything. it’s just a treat for properly setting last time we played vb”

likeeee no one believes you ni-ki

the last time u played vb was like two weeks ago so why r u suddenly treating NOW

it’s actually so cute when u start dating

he has such a Soft Spot for u

LOVES annoying u but is secretly so doting like please

i hate happy couples !!!!!!!!!

i hope u guys r HAPPY <3

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

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arminsumi · 6 months

Text

SHOW-OFF

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

Love sick Suguru showing off during a basketball game to impress you, but it ends with him in the nurse's office with a bloody nose.

Note : my mind wanted to write requests but then my fingers wrote this instead... 😅

Summary : Suguru is a college heart throb that tries so very hard to grab your attention, but he finally earns it at the worst time — during an awry basketball game, when he's on the floor with a bloody nose.

Warnings : pining, fistfight, bloody nose, some angst, suggestive joke

Playme : play date

🍒 More from Jay : GETO works / JJK works / Oct. reqs open

Suguru Geto is, theoretically and practically, the guy that every girl in this college wants. He knows this. He's experienced this. He's got endless admirers. Eyes are always on him when he walks down the corridor.

So it baffles him when you don't pay attention to him. You're a challenge, and that ropes him right in.

"Haha, she walked right past you?" Satoru laughs. They're loitering in the corridor after classes.

"She walked right past me." Suguru nods, emphasizing dramatically until he turns it into a joke — but it isn't a joke, he's genuinely irked.

During class, he pouts like he's a teenage boy again, and scribbles into the margins of his notes;

私は彼女の心の片隅にもいません。 I'm not even in the back of her mind.

He's just as bad as his best friend when it comes to seeking and basking in the attention of doting girls — if not worse. Satoru is slowly weaning off the drug of popularity as he begins attending college, but Suguru is still stuck in the odd transitional stage.

There's a lighthearted basketball competition being held amongst the burly sporty boys one day, and sitting atop the bleachers Suguru spots your face. His eyes light up, he observes you from down on the court.

The squirming you do when you sit. The way your head tilts as you speak to your friend. The curling smile you make at their jokes.

I want to make you squirm when you sit next to me.

Why can't you look at me with the same adoration?

God, if you'd smile at me like that I'd fall to pieces.

Suguru's brows are furrowed so deeply that Satoru and Shoko ask if he's brooding about you again. And sure enough, he is.

"She's just sitting there." he emphasizes annoyedly.

Satoru places a comedic, sympathetic hand on Suguru's shoulder. "Don't worry, once you start bouncing balls all over the court she'll have to look your way."

"Yeah... she's gonna be completely star struck by me playing a stupid basketball game... " Suguru scoffs sarcastically. "Why the hell did you convince me to play again...?" he mutters under his breath.

Shoko hands back Satoru's glasses, "She might be into sporty guys. So give it your all, you pathetic loser." she jokes and heads off, trotting up the bleachers.

So Suguru determinedly gives it his all, never fumbling, never tripping, never mucking up his shots. He becomes a panting, sweaty mess, and in one quick moment as he's wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his forearm, he glances at you and you glance in his general direction, but not really at him.

Did she look at me, or am I imagining things?

His heart is already racing from the intensive exercise of running back and forth on a court, but the thought of you actually watching him as he plays makes his heart thump.

The sound of squeaking shoes ricochets off the walls and polished floors. Suguru loses focus for a moment, thinking hard about you as he stares at the bleachers, and then someone collides with him. He's caught so off-guard that he just topples over and his body meets with the hard floor.

"—What the fuck!"

"—Suguru? Why are you just standing around? The hell were you staring at just now?"

You and Suguru make brief eye contact and it sets him completely off balance, both physically and mentally.

Fuck fuck fuck, she's actually looking over. Why now?

Satoru helps Suguru to his feet, the whistle blows.

"Seriously, what the hell are you staring at? First Satoru doesn't pass the ball to me, now you fall over like a dainty princess—"

"Sukuna, keep speakin' to my boy like that and I'll cut your tongue out."

"Satoru, your boy is the reason we're losing; he's too busy being a fucking show-off for his crush on the bleachers." Sukuna has no shame and points in your general direction.

"This isn't a serious game, why the fuck are you getting so riled up!"

Suguru feels this sense of mortification stemming from the center of his chest as you finally, finally pay attention to him.

Oh my god. Look away. Look away. Look away.

"Sukuna, you're such a fucking cunt." Suguru spits slowly, unexpectedly.

Sukuna blinks at him incredulously. "... the fuck did you just call me?"

"I called you a cunt."

Poor boy Suguru, he's strong and capable of avoiding punches, but when he sees you coming down from the bleachers and approaching to the left at the same time as Sukuna's arm pulls back for a punch, he pays attention to you and that unfortunately results in a fist colliding with his pretty boy face.

The coach is quick to pry Satoru off of Sukuna, it's a chaotic moment.

Amidst the chaos, there's you. There's Suguru. The latter on the floor, splayed and softly groaning in pain, watching his best friend getting into a fistfight through. And the prior coming to kneel at his side, asking this half-conscious boy if he's okay.

Suguru squints at you, feels your hand reach out to wipe the blood dribbling over his lips, and falls in love in the midst of chaos.

I'm alive, but it feels like I'm in heaven staring at an angel.

You and him are deep in a moment, enclosed in a bubble that's separate from reality.

Satoru is pried off Sukuna by coach Fushiguro.

The bubble pops.

A panting, blue-eyed boy returns to his best friend, paying you a short glance of curiosity before bending down at Suguru's side like you are, "Suguru, you good?" he huffs.

"Yeah... need an ice pack..." Suguru mumbles. He sounds and looks dazed, and not just because he sustained a hit from a burly boy like Sukuna.

"Let's go to the nurse's office." you say, your voice carrying through Suguru's ears and finding a pathway into his soul.

Satoru nods, fangy teeth showing as he seethes and shakes his scuffed hand to alleviate the prickling pain across his knuckles. "Yeah, let's. C'mon, big boy, upsy-daisy."

You're make a cute attempt to help Satoru pull Suguru to his feet, even though he's a skyscraper to you.

In the nurse's office, he's just an uncomposed, love sick college boy. The complete opposite of his usual composed, nonchalant demeanor.

When he's alone with a girl, he usually knows exactly what to do with his words but with you they just fall haphazardly out of his stupid mouth, as if he's been rendered an uncouth loser in your company. In your company, up close, actually right here in your presence, in your air. Not distantly observing you in class, or as you're sat atop the bleachers, or as you walk down the corridors.

She's right here.

"Uh... so..." he begins, eager to talk to you at last.

"You sit next to me in professor Lin's class, right?" you interrupt.

He completely malfunctions. "I— y— yyyeah, I think so— I mean I do. Yeah, I do."

"Bangs guy?" you ask.

He groans and nods. You laugh.

"Yeah... bangs guy. Fucking hell, why has that become my identity in this damn school..." he rubs his eyes, then looks down at his knees.

"I mean, because you are the bangs guy." you say.

He's about to smile, then you add; "The hot bangs guy that sits next to me in class — sounds like the title of a romcom, doesn't it?" you joke.

Suguru widens his eyes, and desperately tries to seem unphased after you just flippantly called him hot.

"Yeah... haha..." he nods, voice daring to crack.

You continue your joke, "There could be a spinoff: "The hot bangs guy that stole my heart on the bloody basketball court" or something."

"These titles are getting longer..." he chuckles, avoiding eye contact.

His heart pumps harder.

Holy shit, is she flirting with me? Like, actually? That's so fucked. I'm so lucky. Oh Sukuna, thank you for making this possible, you fucking cunt.

"The hot bangs guy that banged m— no okay, I'll stop before this gets inappropriate, haha."

"Oh, I don't mind. Please, continue." he laughs properly now.

The smoothness is such an act, and you can tell; his dorkiness shines through. He's in love like a loser.

"The hhh—haha—the hot bangs guy that— that banged me." you say through giggles.

Satoru walks into the nurse's office with vending machine snacks.

"What's goin' on here?" he smirks at the two of you and flashes his eyes at Suguru.

"Just stupidity." you respond.

"Yeah..." Suguru smiles.

"Suguru... you have blood all over your lips. It's so hot." Satoru murmurs sarcastically.

"Oh, thanks babe. I'm going for the "just got beat up" look."

"Uhh... more like the "Sukuna's punching bag" look, you mean?" you joke.

"Wow! We just met and you're already humiliating me like this?"

You smile at him.

Satoru flits his eyes between you two, feeling the flirty tension in the atmosphere between you and Suguru. He decides to be the catalyst, because god knows Suguru is too hopeless right now to ask you out himself.

"So... when are you two going on a date?" he asks, wiggling his brows.

"Haha, what?" you give him a look.

Suguru laughs awkwardly and gives Satoru a look, too. A murderous one. "Yeah... what?"

"C'mon, the chemistry between you two is off the charts. I already feel like a third wheel. No, but seriously — you two are such losers for each other, you should go on a da—"

"— Satoru is a jokester, sorry. Ignore him." Suguru interrupts, feeling a flaming embarrassment in his chest.

"Ahah... it's okay." you nod awkwardly.

Satoru's eyes flicker upwards in annoyance, "Hopeless losers..." he mutters under his breath. "Can't say I didn't try."

You excuse yourself to take a sudden call, smiling at Suguru as you leave and so that's all he can see in his mind; the image of your smile.

He groans when you finally leave, and falls back dramatically on the cot. He drapes an arm over his eyes.

Satoru breaks the silence with a pitying whistle, "Dude, she's sooo not into you."

"Thanks, Satoru."

"I tried playing cupid, I really thought it would work." Satoru clicks his tongue.

"Well, sorry but you're shit at your job, Cupid. Anyways... I thought she was flirting with me for a second there... but I think it was all jokes..."

"Aw..."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I like her so fucking bad.

The poor boy replays all the scenes of your interactions with him thus far, and pauses on the moments where he thinks he was awkward. He files the best parts; you kneeling at his side, you wiping his blood off his nose, you joking suggestively with him, you "flirting" with him, you smiling at him.

"Suguru? You gonna spend your life in the nurse's office, or are we gonna go cheer your sorry ass up in Shibuya?" Satoru asks, stretching as he spoke. The afternoon light streams in through the shuttered windows.

"... yeah."

Satoru switches to a serious tone, watching Suguru move lethargically from his resting position on the cot. "I know you like her a lot, but don't get too bummed out... maybe this is just the beginning of something good."

Suguru pauses, contemplates, then rises to his feet. They open the door and leave the nurse's office.

"... or maybe it's just another thing in my life that's not meant to be..."

He looks so glum, and then suddenly his features light up when he hears your familiar voice calling his name. You're standing in the corridor, coming up to him.

"... hey, are you free on Saturday?"

His mind blanks.

"Free for... what?"

"A date?"

"Oh..."

"...?" you look at him, expecting an answer.

"Y—yeah, Saturday's cool."

You smile genuinely at him, and he snapshots it in his mind's eye.

"M'kay, I'll text you the time and place. See you tomorrow."

And then you say your goodbyes, Suguru stutters and chokes up a bit. He gives Satoru an open-mouthed look.

"No fucking wayyy..."

"Damn. You should go thank Sukuna. His magical fist made all this possible, after all." Satoru jokes.

Suguru nods, "Yeah, him and his magical fist. Hey... can you pinch me?"

"You're not dreaming, Suguru."

"I don't trust it. Pinch me."

Satoru pinches Suguru's cheek.

"See? Not dreaming."

"Wow... shit alright... oh my god... yo... I got a date on Saturday. I... OH MY FUCKING GOD." He smiles a big ass smile and does a half-spin, "I HAVE A FUCKING DATE WITH HER ON SATURDAY."

"Fucking dork." Satoru chuckles.

"A fucking dork with a date." Suguru rasps excitedly.

He wraps an arm around Satoru's shoulders as they head down the corridor, "Thanks for convincing me to play basketball, Satoru."

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

#fluff #geto #geto suguru #suguru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #suguru x reader #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jujutsu geto #geto fluff #suguru fluff #suguru geto #geto suguru x you #getou x reader

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woominutes · 3 months

Text

ko kyungjun as a boyfriend

he is THE hates everyone but you bf

bad boy with a soft spot for you kinda trope

just replace bad boy with bully

he doesn't go out of his way for anyone except you

princess treatment? you got it.

he'd make jinha and seungbin do the work when they are around lol

his love languages are;

acts of service

holding doors for you, buying you snacks, walking you home, helping you the week before and during your period. the things he does for you can erase any doubts that may arise in your head about his feelings for you.

he might hold back sometimes to not appear as a simp and maintain his reputation as the tough bully though.

physical touch

always has his hands on you in a way, mostly around the waist or shoulders. it is a sign of affection but also ownership as he wants to make your relationship known to other boys so they don't even dare to make a move.

also having you on his lap, he loves that. especially during recess at school, you can be found sitting on him while he zones out or talks with jinha and seungbin.

and quality time

asking you to hang out after school, inviting you to his place to chill, tagging along when you have errands to run if he is in the mood for it.

this guy literally walks away from people and situations when he doesn't care to be bothered so spending his time on/with someone definitely means something.

now about gift giving

i don't think he'd put a lot of thought into gifts. on specific occasions like anniversaries or trying to impress you, yes, but nothing too fancy otherwise.

however, you'd get little things; like a flower from a random garden he passed by from.

in my eyes, he's a casual sharer in a relationship

what is his is yours, his basketball sneakers being the only exception. food, clothes, his bed, his heart, everything.

you like his jacket? you'll share it back and forth, one week his and two weeks yours. you like his hoodie? take it. you like his shirt? wear it (but bring it back after a month and borrow another). you like his earrings? you can wear the right one and he'll wear the left one.

words of affirmation is not something he is good at

it's hard for him to express himself. he can throw a few playful sweet words here and there but rarely gets serious. he has his moments, especially after intimate situations with intense feelings, but they're few.

rarely says "i love you", he shows it instead.

he'd be the one to secretly need words of affirmation despite denying it

not too much praise though, he'll get cocky

bro felt love for the first time and his world changed #canon

such a show-off, especially with basketball

"this is for you" *misses the shot*

once threw the ball in hyunho's face because you were looking at the poor boy for too long and kyungjun got jealous

cue nahee running to help hyunho with his bloody nose

he eliminates your worries when he can

(we all know how I'm talking about)

tending to his wounds whenever he gets injured

insecure hence extreme jealousy

someone looks at you for too long? glares at them. someone talks to you? either waves them off or mocks them when they leave. someone confesses to you? they get threats as a warning. someone touches you? disappeared from the face of earth.

i could actually see him wanting to kill other boys out of jealousy but he'll hold himself back by giving them a light beating instead.

"me? jealous? ha! I'm better than that asshole"

yeah yeah sure

bro is so aggressive

you'd most likely have to witness a lot of outbursts of anger

but he apologises after, usually

intended empty words or not, you'll witness his wrath again because that is his reaction to almost everything that inconveniences him

he's throwing things and punching walls

BUT NEVER EVER hits you

even if he unconsciously shoves you, he regrets it immediately

many, mostly minor, arguments because of misunderstandings and lack of communication

he is not very confrontational when it comes to a relationship, either because he doesn't want to appear vulnerable and clingy or he doesn't know how to express himself and figure out why he is feeling the way he does.

when his hidden feelings of insecurity and discomfort bubble up, it's hell for the both of you. screaming, crying, him acting like he doesn't care to protect himself.

and his impulsivity makes it harder to make up sometimes

he might say hurtful things out of anger that will keep you away from him for a while but he rarely actually means them, it's just his defense and illusion of security.

possessive and slightly controlling

he cares too much when he considers his relationship serious and it's not just him fooling around.

unfortunately, he'll use manipulation when he wants something badly or to convince you of something. if you call him out, he'll drop the act and most likely get annoyed.

he needs a lot of work when it comes to the negative aspects of his personality for a healthy relationship to exist

he is not too much of a bad guy, he just has issues

and needs therapy

passionate makeout sessions

those big palms and veiny hands know how to grip. he's the dominant one and he won't have it any other way, wanting to have power and control over the pace and movements.

high libido, that's all i'm apparently allowed to say :P

learns and remembers a lot about you

especially your habits and quirks

if you smoke too;

he'll share his cigarettes with you

and steal a couple of yours when he is out of his

if you hate smoking;

LIKE LITERALLY CANNOT BREATHE AROUND SMOKERS

he'll make an effort to not smoke when you are present

brushes his teeth or eats a piece of gum before he kisses you if he meets you after smoking <3

can't have you thinking he is gross smh

if you're short;

he definitely teases you about your height

picks you up just for fun or carries you around like you weigh nothing

ties your shoelaces for you

playfully insulting each other and bantering all the time to show affection

you're the only one he actually listens to <3

you shove him or nudge him when he is being too mean to other people or crossing a line

still goes wild when you're not around

you are his lockscreen <3

not too much of a talkative texter

sort written replies but long voice messsages

oml that voice

sends you pics of himself all the time, expecting compliments and praise

shirtless mirror pics focusing on his abs? all yours. manspreading pictures? you got them. selfies in which he tries to appear tough but his cheeks and soft features make him look like the cutest boy you've ever seen? yep.

cares a lot about how you view him so he takes a lot of time to make sure he picks the right pics to send you.

let's not fool ourselves, he knows you love those muscles and he purposely puts them on display for you

cuddles with kyungjun are warm and tight, becoming one under a blanket

more of a motorcycle guy

buys you your own helmet <3

not one for fancy dates, maybe dinner here and there, but prefers casual hangouts

movie nights at his house, late night walks and rides, chilling at a convenience store after school.

just peaceful private moments.

pretends to not like cheesy couple things, such as matching outfits or pajamas, but they secretly warm his heart

he takes your gifts very seriously; wears them to please you or carries them around with him

get him a neck pillow

you have him wrapped around your finger no matter how much he denies it

jinha has gotten a good smack in the back of his head for voicing that fact multiple times

#woominutes ♡#night has come #nhc #ko kyungjun x reader #go kyungjun x reader #ko kyung jun x reader #go kyung jun x reader #ko kyungjun #ko kyung jun #go kyungjun #go kyung jun #night has come kdrama #night has come kyungjun #night has come ko kyungjun #cha woomin

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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months

Note

Request: Wayne & Steve bonding. Can be 5+1 with the party members seeing it & then the +1 can be Steve realizing that Wayne is his safe adult & that he is included by both Wayne & Eddie (his partner) as a Munson

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY PLATONIC LOVE!!!! ALSO HAPPY 100TH WORK ON AO3 FOR ME!!!! I had started another request but then realized my 100th work needed to have Wayne. Like, it was a no brainer. I love Wayne Munson with my entire heart. He loves Steve with his entire heart. Here we are! - Mickala ❤️

-----------------------------------------------------------

one

It started out pretty awkward.

Eddie had suggested the fishing trip, said it would be great for them to bond and get to know each other.

“Steve’s not goin’ anywhere, and Wayne’s approval is more important to me than anything else, so you might as well find some common ground,” he said to them both over dinner.

So Steve agreed to this fishing trip, and he agreed to let Wayne pick the place and drive them there and provide all the necessary tools.

He didn’t know how to fish so it made sense that he didn’t make any of the decisions.

Of course, Wayne didn’t know he didn’t know how to fish. He’d maybe made it sound like he used to go when he was younger, before his dad stopped showing any interest in spending time with him.

But his dad wasn’t really ever around, and certainly didn’t do anything to bond with him, so here he was.

Trying to pretend he knew how a worm went on a hook.

Wayne hadn’t said much, though Eddie had already warned him that it didn’t mean he didn’t like him, he just didn’t usually say much unless he knew you well.

He was pretty focused on baiting his own hook, or that’s what Steve thought it was called, and Steve didn’t really think it would go well if he interrupted to ask stupid questions.

“You’ve never done this before, have ya?” Wayne suddenly asked, not looking up from his hook.

“Um. No sir?” Steve replied.

No point in lying when it was so obvious he had no clue what he was doing.

Wayne finally looked at him, his eyes squinted as he searched his face.

“You want some help with that?” he finally asked Steve.

“Please.”

Wayne didn’t take the hook and worm from him though. Instead, he gently scooted closer and started showing Steve how to do it himself.

“There ya go! Now, professionals use different bait and hooks and all kindsa stuff I don’t have the patience for. We just use worms cuz they’re cheap and work just fine. You ever cast your own line or you need me to show ya?”

“I can watch you and then try,” Steve replied.

This was going…well. Wayne seemed eager to help instead of annoyed like Steve thought he would be.

He watched Wayne cast his line out, reeling it in just a bit once the bobber hit the water.

“Why do you reel it in like that?” Steve asked, genuinely curious.

“Keeps the line tight so you can see any movement. If the bait ain’t on there good, a fish might be able to wiggle it off, but if you see the line moving, you might be able to still catch him,” Wayne said quietly. “Think you can do it?”

Steve didn’t think he could, but he wanted to impress Wayne.

And then he did it.

“I did it!” he said, maybe a bit too loud for the environment.

“You did! Proud of ya!” Wayne said back, big smile on his face.

He didn’t seem to care that Steve was so loud he probably scared all the damn fish away, or that it was such a simple task that Steve accomplished.

He was just proud.

And when Steve caught his first fish 20 minutes later, he could have sworn he saw Wayne wipe a tear from his eye.

—---

two

“Invite him over,” Wayne suggested.

“To your house?” Steve said as he stopped putting his shoes on.

“Yeah. We got plenty of snacks. Lucas seems like a nice kid. He puts up with Eddie and that Max girl. Must be an angel actually,” Wayne snorted.

Steve looked at him, and at the tv that was already tuned in to the channel the basketball game would be on.

“If you’re sure…” Steve said, removing his shoes again to go call Lucas.

“Tell him to bring his ball and we can practice after! Only if you promise to go easy on me, I’m an old man,” Wayne added as he sipped on his beer.

Steve was quick on the phone, smiling to himself when Lucas seemed so excited about getting to hang out with Steve and Wayne.

Lucas made it just as the game started, sweating from the bike ride over.

“Grab a pop from the fridge and take a seat, kiddo,” Wayne said from his armchair.

“Is Eddie here?” Lucas asked as he did what Wayne said and sat down on the couch next to Steve.

“Nope. Had physical therapy and then band practice. Won’t see that boy until near midnight, I’d say.”

Steve nodded in agreement.

Eddie always got distracted at band practice, especially if they started smoking. Wayne always told him to call if he needed a ride, but not if he needed bail.

The game was intense, and all of them ended up standing on their feet pacing for the last two minutes of it. It was so back and forth, so close, they were almost certain it would go to overtime.

It didn’t though, and Wayne hugged both Steve and Lucas excitedly.

“Alright, who wants to go shoot some hoops?”

Steve knew for a fact the Munsons didn’t have a basketball net. Eddie wasn’t a sports guy and Wayne didn’t have time until pretty recently to have any hobbies.

But Steve and Lucas followed him onto the back porch and Steve stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the small cement pad now had a basketball net.

“When did you get that?”

“Well, when Eddie mentioned you still liked to play for fun, I figured it’d be nice to have. Not a lot of space out here for a real game, but it’s somethin’.”

Wayne looked shy, almost nervous, which was something he never was.

“You got this for Steve?” Lucas asked him.

“Yeah. You’re welcome to come over and practice anytime, too,” he said to Lucas with a smile.

“Seriously? This is awesome!” Lucas took his ball and ran down the porch steps to start shooting at the net.

“You got this for me?” Steve asked Wayne, still slightly surprised by the gesture.

“Yeah, kid. Want you to feel like this is your home too, ya know?”

“Oh.”

Steve wasn’t gonna cry, he wasn’t.

He hugged Wayne quickly, then joined Lucas. Wayne sat on the porch and watched for a bit, cheering when Lucas managed to score on him three times in a row.

Surprisingly, Eddie came home in the midst of an intense one on one match.

He took one look at Steve and Lucas, and turned to Wayne.

“Since when do we support jockhood in this house?” he asked him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Since you fell in love with one,” Wayne smirked.

“I’m not- we haven’t- Wayne!” Eddie sputtered before going back inside.

Wayne shook his head, but continued watching Steve and Lucas competing against each other, hopefully for the first of many times.

—------

three

Max should go home. She couldn’t just hide at the Munson trailer every single time her mom had to work late.

She had to face her fears and just stay home alone.

But Eddie was here having a mini-session with Mike, Will, and Lucas, and she felt better being around all of them than being in her house.

Plus, Wayne had made her hot chocolate and let her taste test the cookies he made.

She wasn’t playing, but she watched the entire time, sipping on her hot chocolate and watching Wayne out of the corner of her eye.

He was in the kitchen baking something new, but had told her she couldn’t try this one yet.

It looked like a cake, but it had a lot of steps to it and she couldn’t be quite sure when he kept moving things from counter to counter and then counter to oven.

At exactly 7:00, Eddie clapped his hands, thanked everyone for coming, and told them to get out.

“How’s the cake comin’ old man? Steve’s gonna be here in 20 minutes!” Eddie said as he started frantically cleaning up.

Max watched as they both seemed to rush through their tasks, ignoring her entirely, maybe even forgetting she was still on the couch.

And then it hit her.

“Shit! It’s Steve’s birthday, isn’t it?” she asked.

Wayne and Eddie both stood in the doorway of the kitchen looking at her.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Eddie asked.

“Ed, I forgot the powdered sugar,” Wayne said suddenly.

“Fuck!” Eddie said, exasperated.

“Language!” Wayne huffed out, turning back to his cake. “I think my Ma used to just blend regular sugar to make it so she didn’t have to pay for it. Let me see how much sugar we got.”

“Max, let me walk you home,” Eddie said, forcing a smile.

But just as she was getting up to let him, not wanting to push him too much when he was so obviously stressed, the front door opened and Steve walked in.

“You will never believe what this woman did at closing time tonight. I thought Robin was going to have to go to jail. Oh. Hey Max.”

Steve paused as he took in the looks of panic on Max and Eddie’s face and the chaos happening in the kitchen.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked, suddenly worried.

“Everything’s great! Actually, can you walk Max home?”

“Is that Steve?” Wayne asked from the kitchen, peeking around the doorway. “Dammit, I need 10 minutes!”

Eddie shooed Steve back out the door and Max followed without being asked.

When the door shut behind them, Steve looked at Max with a confused look.

“Happy birthday, I guess?” she shrugged.

“Oh. Is that today?” he asked.

“Apparently. I don’t think the Munsons understand the idea behind not celebrating birthdays.”

Steve laughed, smiling fondly at the closed front door.

“Alright, well. Let’s get you home so they can embarrass me without an audience.”

They walked down the road to Max’s trailer in silence. Max didn’t mind it with Steve, it felt like they both needed it.

But when they arrived at her house, she turned to Steve and hugged him.

“All good, red?” he asked as he hugged her back.

“Yeah. Just glad we have them.”

“Who? The Munsons?”

“Yeah. They’re pretty great.”

Steve smiled down at her.

“Yeah, they’re alright.”

—----------

four

Nancy spent a lot of time at the library. Probably more than anyone else in Hawkins.

She’d seen it all.

The nerds using it to study, the old people reading the newspaper, the kids being brought by their moms for storytime.

She’d never once seen a Munson.

Until today.

Wayne Munson was standing in the aisle of books that held books about gardening.

He looked lost, and she wanted to help.

“Hey, Wayne right?” she whispered.

He jumped, but then relaxed when he saw it was just a young woman.

“Yes, and you are?”

“Nancy. You probably don’t remember, but I was with everyone when Eddie was brought into the hospital,” she said, hating to bring up bad memories, but needing him to know that she knew Eddie.

“Ah, yes. Mike’s sister?”

“That’s me.” She cleared her throat. “You look like you need some help. I’m basically a librarian for how often I’m here, so maybe I can help?”

“Yeah. I’m lookin’ for a book about trees that can grow here easily. All these seem to be about tropical plants.”

He was right. For some reason, most of the books available were about tropical plants or encyclopedias about flowers.

“There is one…hold on.” Nancy walked a few feet away and looked at the one book she knew would have the information he needed. “Here it is!” She handed it to him. “Any specific tree you’re looking for?”

“Well, I’m gonna plant a tulip tree in the backyard, but I need to know what it needs.”

Nancy smiled.

“You a fan of tulip trees?”

“Ah can’t say I care either way. But Steve likes ‘em and he’s been feelin’ a bit down lately, so figured it might make him smile.”

Nancy frowned.

“He’s been down?” she asked.

Admittedly, she hadn’t seen him much lately, but that was because he was busy working with Robin and spending his free time with Eddie or the kids.

“Well, it ain’t my business to say, but his parents came to town last week and he ain’t been the same since. He won’t talk about it, not even with Ed,” Wayne sounded sad, but also angry.

She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I know they’re frustrating to say the least. But he’ll be alright. I’m glad he has you to cheer him up,” she smiled at him.

“Me too. You won’t tell him about this yet, right?”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

—-------------

five

Robin was hot.

“Steve, there is no way this pool takes this long to clean,” she said from her chair.

“Maybe it wouldn’t if I had help,” Steve said with a sigh.

“I think he’s expecting us to help him,” Eddie said from his chair next to her, not opening his eyes to actually look.

“It’s not as hot in the pool,” he tried to bribe them.

“As if we would get in that untreated dirty water!” Eddie exclaimed.

“We have all literally been covered in Upside Down dust and demo-creature blood.”

“Against our will!” Robin exclaimed.

“Alright, I’m calling Wayne,” Steve said as he got out of the pool.

Not even 20 minutes later, Steve was walking back outside, Wayne trailing behind him in a bathing suit.

“I’m scraping the bottom first so I can scoop any debris out before I treat it,” Steve explained to him. “I think that last storm we got just got a lot of heavier limbs in it so there’s more than I expected.”

“And these two are just watching?”

“We’re supervising. Here for emergencies and getting him drinks when needed,” Eddie said.

“Right. So I’ll take a cold beer,” Wayne said with a smirk.

Eddie moved his sunglasses off his face and glared at him.

“You just came from inside.”

“And now I’m hot. Get me a beer or go home.”

Robin watched the exchange like a tennis match, then turned to Steve who was getting back in the pool like he was used to this kind of thing happening all the time.

“I’m so glad he called you,” she said to Wayne as Eddie grumbled his way inside.

“Me too,” Wayne said, no hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Robin watched them work, taking in the way Wayne explained the best way to treat the pool (“shock it, but then focus on the filter itself, not just the actual pool”) and how long it should sit.

An hour later, they were finishing up the main part of the treatment, and Wayne knocked Steve’s shoulder.

“Great job, kid. Probably wanna let it sit overnight so no one’s skin is burnin’ though.”

“What?! We can’t even swim today?” Eddie shrieked.

“Go swim in the bathtub. Better yet, a puddle in the road,” Wayne yelled back at him. He turned back to Steve. “You comin’ for dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, let me clean up first. Want me to bring anything?”

“Just yourself, you know that.”

Wayne turned to go, and grabbed Eddie’s ear.

“Ow!”

“You’re comin’ with me. You got some stuff to do around the trailer before I let you come over here and swim.”

“I’m a grown man!”

“And grown men clean up before their boyfriends come over. Let’s go.”

Wayne walked away, knowing Eddie would follow him.

Robin couldn’t help the loud laugh she let out as Eddie scrambled to follow, nearly tripping over his own feet when he stopped to kiss Steve quickly before leaving the back patio.

“They’re a blast,” Robin said when they were gone.

“They’re the best,” Steve said fondly.

—----------

plus one

It was too late for someone to be knocking on the door, but Wayne knew better than to ignore it.

Too many late night knocks had been because of emergencies.

“Go back to bed, Ed,” he said to Eddie when he saw him coming out of his bedroom, half asleep and half naked.

But he knew Eddie would be curious and wasn’t surprised when he followed him to the front door.

“Steve?”

He had an armful of Steve as soon as he said his name, wrapping his arms around him protectively.

It was damn near two in the morning, why the hell was he here?

“Are you hurt, son?”

He heard Steve let out a loud sob against his chest and he quickly pulled him inside all the way, closing the door so the neighbors wouldn’t hear and get nosy.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked from behind Wayne.

“Go get some water for him, Ed,” Wayne said over his shoulder. “Steve? What happened?”

“They kicked me out. They found out about Eddie and kicked me out,” Steve said between sobs and panting breaths.

“Alright. Let’s sit down for a minute,” Wayne tried to stay calm, but anger was coursing through his body.

Who could kick out their own son? Especially over something so small?

He shouldn’t be surprised that the Harringtons would, but it still felt like someone poured cold water over him.

“I don’t know what to do. I have nowhere to go,” Steve whimpered.

“Now that right there is nonsense, son. You got us right here, don’t ya? You think we’d let you be homeless when Ed’s got a perfectly good bed for you to sleep in? Hell, ya sleep in it most nights a week anyway.” Wayne sighed, running his hands up and down Steve’s back as they sat on the couch. “You belong here with us. It’s their loss and someday they’ll have to live with the regret of hurtin’ you. But you’re my kid, and you ain’t gonna be livin’ on the streets. Understand me?”

Steve nodded against his chest.

Eddie walked in silently with a glass of water, fear in his eyes.

Wayne gave him a look and hoped he was communicating that he shouldn’t ask right now.

“You wanna have some water for me? Maybe a nice hot shower and then bed?” Wayne asked.

Steve nodded.

“Look at me, Steve.” He waited for Steve to look at him. “You’re my son. I love you and I want you to be here. You deserve to be loved just as you are.”

Steve sniffled, trying to hold back another sob as he nodded.

Wayne watched him sip on the water for a few minutes, and watched as Eddie walked him to the bathroom to make sure he had everything he needed for a shower.

He never understood how parents could look at their children and feel anything but the purest form of love.

Steve may not be his biologically, but he was practically a Munson since the day he carried Eddie out of Hell.

If Wayne had to help him out his own version of Hell, then he’d do it with a smile on his face and praise on his tongue.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #wayne munson #5+1 things #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #request #ficlet #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #supportive wayne munson

563 notes · View notes

supernovafics · 1 year

Text

𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 5.9k words

summary: in which it’s been six months since a random night in a bar brought together two pairs of best friends, and two couples were formed. in those months that came and went, almost in a lovestruck blur, they entailed a countless amount of formal double dates, late night hangouts in someone’s apartment, and more moments in bars that led to lazy days in bed the next morning due to the hangovers. at times things felt way too good to be true. but, in a good way, a great way. you loved steve, and anyone with two eyes could easily see how much he was in love with you

warnings: explicit language, smut (mdni!), lots of fluff, a lil angst, soft!steve/steve being so adorably in love with reader

author’s note: read part one here! for once i’ve written something that is not drowning in angst! lmao i almost went in a completely different direction with this but i wanted to keep it lighthearted and fun and cute so anyway enjoy!<33

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was hard not to admire Steve while he was asleep in your bed.

He always looked so peaceful; head against the pillow that quickly became “his,” hair mildly disheveled and going every which way, and mouth pulled into a straight line that looked soft instead of hard and sweet instead of firm.

You wanted to kiss him. But, you couldn’t do so right then, so instead, you took another sip of your morning coffee and simply watched him as you leaned against your dresser.

“You’re staring,” He mumbled, one side of his mouth quirking upward in a small smile.

“Your eyes are closed right now, so I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” You responded, making your tone sound completely confused.

Steve opened his eyes then and you immediately pulled your eyes away from him and became fixated on a random spot on your wall. You took another sip of your coffee to mask your growing smile.

Steve’s smirk deepened as he maneuvered in the bed and sat up to lean against the headboard. The now lack of comforter covering his body revealed his chest that was bare, because you were wearing his shirt, and revealed the top of the navy plaid boxers he had on.

“I could feel your pretty little eyes on me, honey.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him because he knew exactly how affected you were by any term of endearment he’d use on you; they always made you slightly cringe while simultaneously folding into a giant ball of mush.

“I hope you know that I do in fact hate you anytime you do that.”

Steve ignored your statement, which was pretty much a blatant lie, and only smiled at you some more. “C’mere.”

You wanted to play with him a bit longer, pretend that he couldn’t make you fold so easily; even though he absolutely, completely always could and did. But at that point, you knew you couldn’t resist, and you honestly didn’t want to.

Placing your mug down on the dresser, the next few moments passed by in a knowing blur that felt like second nature to you because of how frequent the events would happen. You settled yourself in Steve’s lap, knees on either side of his waist. His hands snaked under your, his, shirt to find your hips and give the skin a light squeeze.

“You should still be sleeping right now,” You said, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. “You were up a lot later than me last night.”

His new job wasn’t that demanding, but because of how much Steve loved it, he made it much more intense than it actually was, and he was completely happy with that.

It had all happened about a month and a half ago. Marissa had convinced you all to go to her ten-year-old cousin’s middle school basketball game. It was almost a two-hour drive to where they lived in Indiana which was close to the border of Indiana and Illinois, and actually kind of close to where you and she had grown up in Illinois.

When the four of you walked into the slightly empty gym and saw that the team was losing pretty badly, you found out quickly from Marissa’s aunt that it was because their coach quit last second, so the kids were pretty much fending for themselves along with a parent acting as coach who had no athletic experience so he was just telling them to do whatever they wanted.

Robin was the one that jokingly mentioned that Steve had been the star of their high school’s basketball team and would probably be a great coach, and Marissa’s aunt perked up at hearing that and successfully convinced the other parents in the crowd to have him do it. He was initially reluctant because he didn’t think he’d be good, but there was nothing scarier than adamant parents who wanted to see their kids win, so, of course, he ultimately said yes.

In a way, it seemed almost perfect how easily Steve was able to fall into that role, and when the team won that night, for the second time out of the eleven games they’d played so far that season, the school offered him a permanent coaching position right then.

He was slightly hesitant and didn’t accept the job at first. Because he knew the pay wouldn’t be the best and the commute every day would be brutal. But, even as he told you those cons, you could already see how happy the idea of the job itself made him, and how second nature it seemed.

“It’s the random opportunity that has fallen into your lap.” You had told him that night in his bed, fingers running through his hair and a small smile on your face. “You have to take it.”

And he did.

And he loved it and put his whole heart into coaching those little middle schoolers; coming up with new plays and ideas for practice almost every night. You found it both adorable and endearing how seriously he took it.

“I’m okay,” He responded with a small shrug, and then he looked up at you as he smiled, leaning closer to you. “Besides, your staring problem makes it really hard to sleep.”

You almost playfully shoved him, but your eyes instead slipped shut when his lips found your neck. You were still able to respond somewhat coherently, though. “Hm, I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve mumbled something against your neck that you couldn’t make out but the soft hum of his lips against your skin made you want to combust. Before he left any marks on your neck, because he knew how much of a hassle it was for you to cover them, he moved up to trailing soft kisses along your jaw before finally reaching your mouth.

“Mm, coffee,” He whispered against your lips, tasting the slight remnants of what you had been drinking before he woke up and what was still sitting on your dresser.

You slowly started moving yourself against him and it made you smile how quickly a soft groan fell from his lips at your action. “There’s a fresh pot in the kitchen if you wanna get that right now instead of doing this.”

Steve groaned again at a particularly rough stir of your hips. “I think coffee can wait.”

“Great answer,” You said and kissed his nose.

His hands went to the hem of the t-shirt and you almost helped him pull it off of you, but a knock on your door halted your next movements.

“Hey, lovebirds, wake up if you’re still sleeping.” It was Marissa’s slightly muffled voice coming through the door. “Or if you’re fucking, please stop. Also, it’s barely nine in the morning so if you are fucking, you two are insane.”

You refrained from laughing at her statement as you softly swatted Steve’s hand away that was still trying to push your shirt upward.

“What’s going on?” You asked, voice loud enough so your best friend could hear you.

“Important family meeting.”

“Once again, something about you calling all of us a family feels slightly incestual,” You said as you began maneuvering yourself off of Steve.

“I know you hate it, but we are kind of a little family,” You heard her say. “In a completely nonrelated, ‘we’re two couples who are also all best friends’ kind of way.”

In a way, Marissa was right, and you could fully see that. Six months ago the four of you were two separate little pairs of friends and now there were two couples and four pretty close friends.

You all were a tight-knit group that was forged together by one random Friday night in a bar, and sometimes this strong interconnectedness worried you. Because if something happened to either you and Steve or Marissa and Robin, you had no idea what that would mean for the rest of the group.

Anytime you’d have those moments of worry, something would always tell you that in the end, it would be you to mess everything up. It was an irrational thought, a part of you knew that, but it still felt way too true because of how almost “wrong” it felt for things to be this good.

How deeply you’d found yourself loving Steve in such a short period of time still scared you as much as it made you feel so fucking happy.

“You okay?” Steve asked, pulling you out of your thoughts as he came up and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

You instinctively leaned into his touch and let your previous thoughts fade away as you always did. You never verbalized these fears to him, or even Marissa, a part of it felt unnecessary and you also didn’t want to fully acknowledge your worries because of how much more real they’d feel if you did say them aloud.

Your next words came out in a soft mumble. “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking about stupid stuff.”

Steve didn’t question you any further and simply nodded at your response before sneaking a quick kiss on your cheek and then moving to slip his jeans on.

You pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it to him as he headed toward your bathroom, and then you went to put on a random wrinkled hoodie of yours. Before opening your door to head into the living room, you grabbed your cooling coffee off of your dresser and took a sip, glad that it was still mostly warm.

“Morning,” You smiled at Robin who was leaning against the kitchen counter and eating a buttered piece of toast. You began refilling your coffee with what was left in the pot because you knew Steve would want some when he emerged from the bathroom.

“Morning,” She smiled back at you and took another bite of her toast. “Where’s the dingus?”

“Bathroom,” You answered and she nodded at that. “Do you know what this ‘family meeting’ is about?”

Robin quickly shook her head. “Nope. Marissa’s keeping me in the dark too.”

“That’s because I want you all to be surprised,” Marrisa said, from where she was sat cross-legged on the couch, textbook open in her lap because she had a huge test in a couple of days and had been religiously studying for it for the past week. Her nearly perfect time management skills still always managed to amaze you.

Steve came out of your room moments later and you held out the mug for him. He smiled at you as he took it and pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “Thank you. Love you.”

You leaned into him and his free arm circled around your shoulders. “Love you too.”

He took a quick sip of the coffee and let out a small sigh of contentment. “Did I miss the meeting?”

“No, and now that you’re here, I can share the great news,” Marrisa said before getting up from the couch and joining you all in the kitchen, standing next to Robin. “Okay, so remember how we all have been talking about how we need to take a couple’s trip soon?”

You all nodded along to her words, and you almost said that it was really only her that had been talking about doing a couples trip for the past few weeks, but you refrained from doing so because she looked so happy with what she was about to say.

“My aunt has a really nice cabin right by a lake and she said we can use it for a weekend. Next weekend, to be specific. So clear your calendars.”

“Ooh,” Robin said as she wrapped an arm around Marissa, pressing a soft kiss against her cheek. “Sounds fun.”

“Yes, and only slightly like the beginning of a horror movie,” Steve joked with a small laugh. His words startled you a bit because that was exactly what you were about to say.

You smiled up at him. “I think we share the same brain.”

He grinned widely at that and pecked your lips. “Can I keep it for the rest of the day?”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was actually very rare that you and Steve would have either apartment entirely to yourselves. Although it shouldn’t have been rare because the four of you could’ve easily come up with some sort of system to make sure that you and Steve, and Marissa and Robin were alone in one of your two shared places, but none of you really cared enough to do it.

But, on this night, it was just you and Steve in the apartment he had with Robin because she and Marissa were out seeing a movie that neither you nor Steve really wanted to see.

Things were quiet but the good kind, the comfortable kind. Steve was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch while also hunching over the coffee table as he brainstormed and wrote out some new plays that he wanted the kids to try out next week. And you were laying on the couch, a campaign that you had been working on for the past week in your hands as you stared at it for what felt like forever. Your boss had told you there was something wrong with it, but she didn’t tell you what that “wrong” thing was so you were left simply staring at the paper and having absolutely no idea what to change about it.

“Hey,” You said softly to grab Steve’s attention and when he turned his head to look up at you, you held up the paper in your hand for him to look at; maybe a fresh pair of eyes could tell you something that you couldn’t see. “What’s wrong with this?”

Steve stared at it for a few moments and then his eyebrows furrowed. “Is this a trick question? It looks really good to me.”

You let out a small sigh as you let your eyes focus on the paper again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”

Steve was about to say something else but before he could, the sound of the phone ringing in the kitchen stopped him and caught both of your attention.

He started moving to get up, but you stopped him and stood up instead. “I’ll get it. I need a break from looking at this.”

You headed over to the kitchen and picked the phone up off the hook, placing it at your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey– Wait, who is this? This is a girl’s voice, so you’re definitely not Steve. But, you’re not Robin, either.” It was clearly a guy’s voice on the other end, but it didn’t sound familiar to you.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Holy. Shit.” The sudden and pure excitement in his voice slightly startled you. “The Y/N?”

“Um, yeah, I guess?” You answered, pretty much answering his question with one of your own. “Who’s this?”

“I’m Dustin. Steve’s friend. Probably his best friend after Robin, even though I was technically here before Robin,” He said and it all kind of clicked into place for you from there because of how much you heard about him from Steve and Robin. “Anyway, it’s cool to finally meet you. Well, sorta meet you, I guess. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Your attention turned to Steve, who was back to being hunched over the coffee table, and a small smile took over your features. “All good things I hope.”

“Oh yeah, literally only good things. Steve’s obsessed with you.”

You let out a small laugh at that. “Oh, really? Do tell me more.”

Dustin didn’t waste a second to launch into a story. “He was rambling to me about you for a good two hours last week. He was just going on and on about how you guys went to some bar and were playing pool, and you were really good which he thought was so cool. And you were making fun of him for being bad, but still let him win a couple of games. He does absolutely suck at pool, I know that for certain.”

You remembered that night pretty vividly, mainly because it had happened barely a week ago but also because you’d never forget how bad Steve was at pool. You actually thought it was kind of cute. You also didn’t think it had been that obvious that you let him win a few times.

“He said he wouldn’t mind getting beat by you in pool for the rest of his life,” Dustin continued on. “He specifically even mentioned something about being old in wheelchairs. He’s so in love with you. You’re definitely his Suzie.”

“Suzie?” You questioned, and at that Steve finally pulled his attention away from what he was doing and looked at you.

“Who is it?” He asked you and you ignored him because your attention was solely trained on hearing Dustin’s answer.

“Suzie’s my girlfriend and she’s amazing and awesome and pretty much perfect,” The teen explained. “It’s awesome that Steve’s found you. From how he talks about you, you sound pretty perfect too.”

You smiled at his words.

It was then that you realized exactly how different things were with Steve. Because hearing about how much he loved you and how often he’d lovingly ramble about you didn’t scare you in the slightest. You knew that if this was any other relationship, any other guy, you’d want to immediately run in the other direction. But, you honestly didn’t want to run away and that realization made all of your previous worries and fears feel nonexistent.

Dustin started saying something else, but you couldn’t make it out before Steve took the phone from you.

“Henderson,” He said in an annoyed voice to the boy on the other end of the line and then looked at you. “What embarrassing stuff did he say to you?”

“Oh, nothing embarrassing at all,” You told him as you headed back to the couch, a sweet smile on your face. “Just how much you love me and my fantastic pool skills. Which actually aren’t that good, you’re just really bad. But, I still love you.”

He playfully flipped you off with a roll of his eyes and a small laugh as he continued talking to the teen on the other end.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a soft kiss pressed against a certain sensitive part of your neck that pulled you from your sleep. Sleep that had been much needed after the first night at the lake house that ended at one in the morning after a heated game of charades against Marissa and Robin that happily resulted in you and Steve winning.

You groaned at the feeling and rolled on your side to try and lull yourself back to sleep, but Steve pressing more kisses to your neck and then your face fully woke you up.

“You told me to make sure you wake up early, remember?” He mumbled against your ear before pressing another kiss to the side of your head.

“Mhm,” You muttered as you turned on your side, letting your sleepy eyes meet his. “I sadly do remember saying that.”

“Come on, we have a sunrise to go watch,” Steve told you, a small smile on his face. As usual, his smile did something to you and made you smile back at him even though all you really wanted to do was go back to sleep. “Which was completely your idea, by the way.”

“Sometimes my ideas aren’t the best,” You responded but finally got up anyway.

Steve was already in a hoodie and sweatpants since it was unsurprisingly cold outside, and the same small smile was still on his face as he watched you pull on your own pair of old sweatpants and a random hoodie in a half-asleep daze. After you slipped on your shoes, he leaned down a bit in front of you and turned around so his back was toward you. “Hop on.”

“God, you’re the best,” You said as you wrapped yourself around him, arms circling his neck and legs circling his waist, and he lifted you up and led you out of your shared room.

You almost told him to go toward the room Marissa and Robin were sleeping in and force them to come watch the sunrise with you two, but you kind of just wanted to have this moment solely with Steve.

He let you down once he made it to the wooden bench that perfectly overlooked the lake and would let you both have a good view of the sunrise. It was still fairly dark outside, but you could see the beginning remnants of sunlight starting to take over the dark sky.

When the two of you sat down you immediately maneuvered yourself so that your head was in Steve’s lap, which made your legs dangle a bit off the edge of the bench.

“Back in Hawkins, there’s this place called Lover’s Lake. Being here slightly reminds me of that,” Steve said as his fingers started mindlessly playing with the drawstrings of your hoodie. “I should take you there soon.”

You playfully smiled up at him. “Ooh, I finally get to see your hometown? This relationship is getting quite serious.”

He let out a small laugh as his eyes met yours. “Yes, and I’m planning to go ring shopping next week, actually.”

“Make sure you take Marissa with you,” You said jokingly but attempting to make your voice sound as serious as possible. “She’ll know which one you should get for me.”

“Don’t worry, I already asked her to come.”

“Good,” You said, nodding at him. “Now back to this Lover’s Lake place. It sounds exactly like the kind of place where someone would take a date for a late night making out in a car kind of vibe.”

He was quiet for a bit until he mumbled, “No comment.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his sudden shyness and you grabbed his hand to intertwine it with yours and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. “You can talk about old girlfriends and dates or whatever, y’know. I’m not gonna get jealous or anything. The past is in the past. And I’ve heard plenty of stories from Robin, anyway.”

“Why would I wanna talk about past girlfriends when I can think about the future?”

“I don’t think I wanna hear about your future girlfriends,” You joked, a small smirk on your face.

He lightly poked your side, causing you to laugh loudly. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do,” You said with a shake of your head. Even though you actually knew exactly what he meant, you wanted to hear him say it.

“My future with you,” He responded, eyes meeting yours.

“Oh,” You said as if it all finally clicked into place for you. “Can I hear more about that future?”

Steve smiled at that, more than happy to talk about the thoughts that almost always circled his mind. Thoughts you already knew because conversations like these would usually happen in a post-sex, pillow talk haze where he would ramble and you would listen and almost always reciprocate, playing into the fantasies he was cooking up and adding your own.

It always felt easy to imagine something more with Steve, sometimes way too easy. Especially after the conversation with Dustin, you felt like you could fall even deeper into Steve and everything would be completely okay. More than okay, actually.

“Well, there’s our house, of course,” He started and your eyes slipped shut as you imagined the picture he was painting of your future together. “Which can’t be too big, like the house I grew up in. But, it does need to be big enough for all of our five or six kids since we’re both a little insane and think that having that many is a good idea.”

His hand was still intertwined with yours and you gave it a light squeeze. “We need to have enough for a basketball team so that you can coach them.”

“Makes sense,” Steve nodded, smiling at you. “Also, a big house means a big backyard for the dog too, which is great. She’ll have lots of room to play.”

Your eyes opened at that. “I thought we agreed on a cat?”

“I’m still heavily advocating for the dog.” “Okay, we can do both,” You told him. “I’m thinking a golden retriever and an orange tabby.”

He looked at you in a certain soft and sweet way that made you feel a little nervous and caused your stomach to swarm with butterflies.

“What?” You asked shyly, pulling your eyes from his and looking up at the orange hues that took over the sky.

“I just love how we can talk about this kind of stuff, even though it’s only been six months,” He said. “And probably from that first night we met, I’ve been thinking about us and you and this future with you that is technically far away but also feels so close. And if I said that to any other girl, they’d probably be running for the hills by now.”

The vulnerability of his words sat with you and when you looked at him again, you couldn’t help but smile at how sincerely happy he looked right then. Even though you were completely comfortable in the position you were in with your head in his lap, you let go of his hand and sat up so you could kiss him. It was your nonverbal way of letting him know that you wouldn’t run away, and he must’ve heard you loud and clear because he only kissed you harder and pulled you impossibly closer to him.

“Those girls would be idiots if they did that,” You told him when you pulled back from the kiss and the two of you were still only a breath away from each other. Your eyes were closed as you said your next words. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to entertain the thought of having six fucking kids with. And it’s scary as hell but the good kind. Because, yes it hasn't even been a year yet, but I already know that I want that house with you and that backyard and that dog and cat. Because I love you. Like, a lot. Like, so much so that I feel like I wouldn’t be able to function properly for at least five years straight if I ever ruined things with us. And I’m kinda rambling a lot right now, but whatever.”

Steve’s lips found yours again and the abruptness of the action caused you to softly gasp into his mouth. He pulled you sideways into his lap and both of his hands cupped your face in such a tender way that you felt as if you could melt into him right then and there. Your fingers started lazily circling the drawstrings of his hoodie.

“I think we’re definitely missing the sunrise,” You muttered against his lips but still didn’t fully pull away.

“It’ll happen again tomorrow,” Steve said simply and you completely agreed with that.

His hands traveled downward to snake themselves underneath your hoodie and you sighed in contentment at the feeling of his fingers against the bare skin of your hips and then your waist. You wanted more, you needed more, but you couldn’t allow that “more” to happen on a wooden bench.

“We should go inside,” You told him, words more so coming out in a soft plea, and Steve nodded almost immediately at your request. You took one last look at the way the sun was reflecting so prettily off of the lake before he led you inside the house.

With both of you fully clad in a hoodie and sweatpants, it felt as if there were a million layers separating you two from one another and you desperately needed that to change. Shoes came off first and were kicked somewhere by the door and then your hands grabbed at the ends of Steve’s hoodie, helping him pull it off and he did the same with yours. In between quick and chaste kisses, piece after piece of clothing item was littered on the floor of the living room and dining room until you made it to your shared room and you were only in your underwear and Steve was down to his boxers.

His arms circled around you from behind when he closed and locked the door behind you both, and he started walking you toward the unmade bed before he turned you around and softly pushed you down against it.

He leaned over you, lips ghosting over yours before pulling back a bit and you couldn’t take the teasing so you pulled him roughly against you, his body weight crushing you in the best way possible and his warmth enveloping you completely.

“I love you so much, baby,” He mumbled against your lips, and although that was something you knew, your heart still squeezed at hearing those words.

“I love you too,” You told him as you started kissing all over his stubbly jaw.

Your hips bucked upward at the feeling of his hardness pressed firmly between your thighs.

“I need you inside me. Please,” You told him as you moved your hips again and he groaned in your ear.

He could only nod at your words as he maneuvered off of you a bit, pulling your underwear down and tossing it somewhere in the room and then spreading you for him.

“So pretty,” He said, dragging a finger through your wetness, catching your clit for a brief moment before pulling away.

“Steve…” Your moan came out in a soft sigh and your eyes fell shut. “Please.”

“Anything for you, baby.” His lips pecked yours before he finally slipped out of his boxers.

When he finally entered you, filling you to the hilt in one slow motion, you both moaned in contentment. For a few moments, he stayed just like that, words getting lost in your hair as he said, “Just wanna feel you like this for a bit. You always take me so well, baby,” and you could only respond with a soft, barely coherent, “Mhm.”

You adored moments like these. The softness of it all, the slowness of it, how much love you could feel laced within every thrust when he started moving. Noses and lips brushed over each other haphazardly, panting breaths and moans not allowing your mouths to connect for more than a brief moment. Your eyes met his dark but loving gaze and you could feel your cunt flutter around his cock, which elicited a loud groan for him.

One of his hands firmly found your hip, holding tightly so he could push into you harder. Your back arched and you nearly screamed at the new feeling of him hitting so deep inside of you.

“Doing so well, baby,” Steve mumbled, lips finding your neck. He was still moving at his slow pace but hitting that perfect spot inside you with every harsh thrust. “Fuck. Taking everything I give you so fucking well.”

“Steve,” You breathed out, unable to say anything else.

He kissed you roughly, tongue darting in to taste you for a brief moment before speaking. “I can tell you’re close. I can feel you fucking, ah, squeezing my cock.”

You nodded profusely, a small whimper falling from your lips. “Mm, so close, yeah.”

“Touch your clit for me, baby.”

You didn’t hesitate to listen to him and let one of your hands snake between your bodies and begin circling the small bundle of nerves. You immediately started seeing stars.

He kissed you again, swallowing your loud moans. “Good girl.”

The soft praise made you clench around his cock again and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer as you continued the ministrations you were making on your clit.

“‘M gonna come,” You muttered, moving your hand faster to match Steve’s quickening thrusts, and you could feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

“Do it, baby. Come all over my cock. I wanna feel it,” He told you, pulling back a bit so he could watch as you did so. Eyes screwed shut and legs shaking as your back arched and you let out a particularly loud moan. Steve continued fucking you through your orgasm. “So fucking pretty.”

Through your fucked out whimpers and soft pants, you reached out to pull him close to you again, and your mouth began sucking on a particularly sensitive spot under his jaw that you knew would send him tumbling over the edge with you. Which it did right as your tongue grazed over the skin.

“Ah– ah, fuck,” Steve stuttered out as he came inside of you, and you moaned loudly at the feeling of his warm cum painting your walls.

He lay on top of you for a few moments, both of you too spent and too lost in your post-orgasm hazes to do much more but let your shallow breaths take up the silence. When his breathing steadied, he slowly pulled out of you and pressed a quick kiss to your neck before padding to the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom to grab a damp washcloth to clean the mess between your thighs.

He then got back in the bed, pulling the blanket over the two of you and circling his arm around your waist to bring you flush against him.

You could feel yourself slowly falling asleep in his arms, and you were close to simply letting it happen, knowing that you both could probably use another hour or two, but then you were reminded of something.

“We need to get our clothes from out there or we’ll never hear the end of it from Marissa and Robin.”

“Mm, in five minutes. I just wanna lay here with you for a bit longer,” He told you, voice slightly muffled because his face was buried in your neck.

“Okay,” You agreed since you felt way too comfortable to move anyway.

“You could never ruin things between us, by the way. You know that, right?”

You were slightly confused about where Steve’s words were coming from, but then you remembered that in the midst of your rambling outside on the bench, you had said that; that you had finally verbalized those worries that had plagued you but now felt so unimportant.

You nodded at his question. “I know.”

“Good,” He said as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Because you could hit me with your car and I’d still be so fucking in love with you.”

You softly laughed at that and shifted around so that you were facing him. “Am I allowed to test that out?”

“I’d rather not, but if that’s what it takes,” He answered, a smile on his face as one hand reached up to stroke your cheek.

“It’s okay, I believe you,” You said, turning your head a bit so that you could press a soft kiss to his palm.

You both simply stared at each other for a bit, letting a silent conversation play out where you told him through your smile how grateful you were for him because you’d never known anyone like him; someone genuinely sweet and kind and effortlessly funny and who could always, always match your energy just right. And Steve acknowledged your silent honesty and showed how amazed he was to have you in his life as well by slotting his lips against yours. You two lazily kissed one another until you fell asleep with your limbs tangled up and the discarded clothes out in the living room long forgotten.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things fic

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cambrinkisbae · 2 months

Text

dating nika muhl hcs

(warning this is mainly Nika x Fem reader so I apologize)

talking stage-

enemies to lovers no doubt. everyone would talk about Nika around you and all the girls on Nika's team would point you out once Nika came clean about liking you.

"look its lover girl" was mainly said by KK as she points in your direction tapping on Nika's shoulder. Nika's usual reaction is to just smack her shoulder.

once she actually got the guts to talk to you, you were so terrified when she came up to you. all of your friends said she was a more aggressive basketball player (true.) but they were wrong when they said that Nika's personality is the same as when shes on court.

the more Nika approached you each day, you fell in love more. finally you guys got each other's numbers and socials. a text was thrown around every couple days until you guys actually started to text everyday and called each other nicknames here and there.

both of your guys' friends couldn't get off your dicks about it. nudging your shoulders when the smallest smile shows up on one or the others face. they treated your talking stage like a highschool crush.

beginning of the relationship -

nika seemed tough on the outside around you but alone or with her friends she was a hot mess. everyday it would be something like "I swear to God if there's another girl-"

dont ask me why but you initiated the relationship. I just feel it in my balls.

the second you guys started dating she ripped out her phone and texted the team groupchat. the rest of that week all she could do was rant about you even though she tried her hardest not to.

it was very awkward in the beginning... a lot of like awkward kisses on the cheeks and weirdly long hugs. it took a while to get used to but once you did it was perfect.

this is obviously a forever thing but she has the most protective personality to ever exist. I mean when someone even says your name and any negative word she blows up inside. if someone gives you a dirty look she gives a FILTHY STARE back. she doesn't play when it comes to her girl

getting comfy -

once the moment came, she would spend almost every night sleeping in your dorm/apartment.

started to get more soft around you instead of tough guy.

holds onto your waist all the time like there is not a moment where her fingers aren't curled around your hips.

calls you all sorts of nicknames in English and croatian (only when you guys are alone though)

she does her own skincare routine and makeup and stuff but will ALWAYS let you do your routine on her.

makeovers are a must.

she can never pick between big spoon or little spoon so you guys just go with whatever that night brings.

loves to play with your hair when you are doing homework.

even though she is completely capable of distracting you while you do work or homework or anything serious, she loves helping you out.

arguments (sadly)

ok I'm dreading this part.

you guys only argue over like actual serious things.

tries to not accuse you of anything but fails most of the time

attempts to hide the fact that arguments are her literal worst fear.

after any argument she goes to the bathroom and kind of slams the door not too much tho.

has her hands on her face and is pacing around the room

the reason she leaves is so that you don't see any emotions she picked up from the argument.

most of the time she leaves to go cry and then tries to ignore you for the night.

the moment you go up to her door she cant even look you in the eyes.

you both just stand there for a second before she pulls you into a hug and keeps you there for a while

(angry sex after)

ok guys that's it for now... maybe I'll write more later if I'm feeling up to it.

#basketball #nika muhl #uconhuskies #uconn wbb #Nika Muhl x reader #i love nika muhl #Nika Muhl headcanons #wlw

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sheluvv-gambino · 9 months

Note

Can you do a 42 miles x reader. He has a crush on her and she’s really bold don’t give no fucks so, when they meet he’s rude and she gives back that same energy. 😂

Spitfire.

A/N: I hope i served your vision justice, anon!

pairings : e-42 miles morales x black fem!reader

summary : It dosen't matter who it is, you refuse for any man to put fear in your blood. Yes, that includes Miles Morales.

warnings : cursing I guess?

You had been at the school for maybe a month and yet you had still not bumped into the infamous Miles Morales. Until…

bang!

Your shoulder collided with something hard. Well someone with brick like muscles that was just standing in the middle of the hall staring at something you didn’t know and didn’t care about.

“What, you don’t know where your going or something…?” The figure spoke.

You looked up to see a tall brown skin with a screwed up face glaring down at you.

“Who the fuck are you talkin’ to right now?” You exclaimed. I mean the audacity of this guy right now. “Ion know about you but where i’m from we don’t stand in the middle of a crowded hall like you don’t got a clue where your supposed to go.”

You walked away in a prideful step.

Your mother raised you better then to take any form of disrespect.

But from that whole interaction with Miles you were oblivious to the fact that the reason Miles had stopped was because he was caught up texting Ganke about how he should approach you. You caught his eye the moment you stepped in with your Jordan’s that were identical to his. So when your shoulder collided with his he didn’t want to act like a total fool and stare at your astonishing eyes, instead he acted defensive as he does with everyone else. What he wasn’t expecting was you to rebuttal by cussing him out then walking away with not a single look back. Yeah, he was certain that he was going to fall in love with you somehow.

————————-

It was about about an hour after school on a Friday and your new found friend group had invited you out to a basketball court where the most social interaction happened between people your own age.

Obviously, there was a game going on the basketball court.

Miles seemed to be involved with it.

So whilst he was playing you got the chance to admire him.

As much of a dick you truly thought he was, you couldn’t help but stare at the way his two cornrows shaped his sharp features. He was quite attractive but you wouldn’t dare to admit it considering he clearly didn’t know how to move out of the way when in the hauls.

Miles was just about to shoot when he looked to his left and saw you staring at him. He couldn’t seem to break the eye contact that you both held. In result he missed the basket and got a chorus of…

“…Milesss!”

“C’mon man!”

“How’d you miss that, Miles?!”

He really didn’t care even that he may have jeopardised his teams end result of the game.

“Hol’ on i’ll be back later.” He muttered as he dropped the ball and drifted to where you and your friends were.

His teammates looked around to see where Miles lost his head because there was no way Miles would ever walk out of a game just like that.

Your friends were all looking around to see who Miles was headed too.

When Miles sat beside you on the bench your friends all decided to act like 3rd graders and start with the “Oooh!”.

You glared up at him before he decided to speak.

“Before you decide to cuss me out again, I just wanted to apologise for acting like a dumbass and talking to you crazy.” Miles said as he put his hands up in surrender.

A small grin graced your lips. A man that actually apologised like a gentlemen, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“We’ll i accept your apology. My names Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I know. I’m Miles Morales.”

“I know.”

6 months later…

You and Miles were cuddled up in your bed back at home as a your favourite movie played in the background.

“Y’know I had a crush on you before we actually met in the hall.” He whispered as his thumb stroked your skin on your shoulder.

You moved your head up against his chest and looked at him longingly as a signal to continue.

“That’s why I stopped in the middle of the hall…I was asking Ganke about how to approach you. And then you cussed me out for no reason!”

“Uh uh, I had to put you in your place for giving me attitude.”

“Mhm sure, guapa. OW!”

You looked down to see your cat (Simba) playing with Miles’ foot by biting and gnawing on it.

“Aww Simba is finally showing you love!” You giggled.

“Yeah, whatever.”

#across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles g morales #earth 42 miles #prowler miles #spiderverse #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales earth 42

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imaginespazzi · 3 months

Text

Here's To Eternity

Four times Paige brings up marriage and the one time Azzi finally says yes.

(In which an angst writer attempts to write fluff and it takes her far longer than it should have)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: mainly Fluff with a little bit of Angst

Words: 8K (I swear it was meant to be below 5K when I planned it)

TW: Implied sexual content, alcohol, swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3. Gonna do this at the beginning instead of the end today. This took years off my life and I still don't fully love it but I'm tired of thinking about it so hopefully y'all still like it. Really quickly, I've never been to Minnesota or the state fair so if you have, pretend you do not see the likely factual inaccuracies. Also feel free to let me know what you don't like because as I've said, I don't really write fluff well so by all means call me out. And finally, I edited this I swear but I'm sure there are still mistakes, so let me know about those too. Anyways, I hope this is a good pre-game read and let's get another W!

i don’t know what love is (i’d learn for you)

The first time Paige says it, they’re at the Minnesota State Fair. It’s all the way back when they’re just two young girls learning each other, carefree and completely unaware that this will become a tradition. They’ve barely known each other but being with Azzi already feels easy, natural, like home. And she doesn’t really know how she knows it, it’s just a feeling really, but Paige is convinced that Azzi’s meant to be in her life forever.

They’ve been at the fair almost all day, with members of both of their families joining them here and there. Paige and Azzi had been competing at various arcade games all day, keeping a tally of who won which arcade game. They’d even turned going on rides into a competition of “who could hold in their screams the longest”. Their bickering, while endearing, had earned them more than a few fond eye rolls as their families eventually got bored of being third wheels and went on to find something more engaging.

They’d intentionally left the pop-a-shot, a basketball arcade game, til the very end, knowing it would be the ideal tie-breaker. And as the day comes to an end, they are in fact very much tied although Paige will tell you, that she didn’t actually scream on the Skyscraper; it had merely been a quiet whimper that Azzi was exaggerating the volume of. And Azzi will tell you that she deserved a re-do on the ring toss because it wasn’t her fault that the wind had decided to pick up on that very moment. Ultimately both of their arguments had fallen on deaf ears when they had appealed their cases to some very exasperated family members.

“Get ready to lose to the better shooter,” Paige gloats, rubbing her hands together in preparation to shoot. She’d lost two rounds of rock paper scissors to Azzi’s one, meaning she’d missed the chance to go second like she would have preferred but that hadn’t done much to deter her confidence.

“We’ll see,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms as she stands back a little bit to give Paige the space she needs.

Paige smirks at her friend as she shoots the ball, definitely showing off a little bit. The ball arcs in the air before swishing into the basket, all net and no rim. The blonde’s grin only widens as she repeats the motion, again and again and again. She gets eight of them in perfectly, the ninth hits the backboard but rolls in and then-

“You missed,” Azzi yells the minute the last ball is out of Paige’s hands and they both watch, one in excitement, the other in irritation, as the ball falls miserably far away from the net.

“That’s not fair,” Paige turns around immediately, “you distracted me. That doesn’t even count.”

“Nuh uh, we didn’t set a no distracting rule and I only said something after you released it. I already knew you were gonna miss,” Azzi counters gleefully.

“Bruh, how could you have possibly known that?”

“Because my basketball IQ is way beyond yours,” it’s Azzi’s turn to smirk as she bumps Paige in the hip, switching spots so she can take her turn.

“You’re still gonna lose. I made nine, you’re barely gonna make,” Paige pretends to think, “hmm maybe seven”

Azzi doesn’t respond, choosing instead to reply by immediately making her first basket. Her arc is perfect as always, the same shot Paige had been awed by when they’d been at camp for USA basketball. She makes the next and the next and the one after that until she’s at her 10th shot, ready to go a perfect 10 for 10 and beat Paige. Maybe it’s the competitiveness or maybe Paige has lost her goddamn mind, but she barely registers the next words that come out of her mouth.

“If you make the last shot, you have to marry me,” and it’s supposed to be a threat, a way to stop Azzi from making the last bucket and winning their silly little competition but it comes out giddy and breathless.

“What?” Azzi asks, eyes wide as she turns around to face Paige and well, she’s said them now, Paige might as well own them.

“You heard me,” Paige says, cocking her head, the arrogance in her voice a complete contrast to the rapid beating of her heart, “you make that shot, and we’re engaged. Or you don’t make it and you lose.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, confusion melting away to a familiar fierceness. The thing is, she knows she could miss it if she wanted to but the thought of losing is somehow worse than being engaged at fourteen. She tries not to dwell on why that idea doesn’t seriously frighten her, telling herself it’s because there’s no way Paige will ever hold her to that. Taking a deep breath, Azzi lifts up her hands and shoots the ball.

Here’s the thing, Paige likes winning. She enjoys the effort that goes into getting a win and the satisfaction that follows after. But as the ball leaves Azzi’s hand, that same perfect arc, she thinks, maybe it would be okay if Azzi made this basket today. She thinks maybe it would be okay if she lost. Both girls wait with bated breath, as the ball hits the backboard and circles the rim. For a brief second, it seems like it might slide off the edge but it doesn’t. It falls into the net with a swish and Azzi wins.

The brunette lets out a squeal of happiness as the arcade game lights up with “WINNER”, doing a happy dance and flipping her hair. And Paige is so mesmerized by Azzi’s infectious happiness, the fact that she’s just lost ceases to mean anything. She doesn’t know what this feeling is, isn’t quite ready to understand it, but she knows it’s slowly creeping up her veins and consuming every part of her.

“What prize would you like honey,” the middle-aged woman running the booth asks, pointing to the assortment of gifts sitting in a booth next to the game. Azzi pulls a still-stunned Paige with her to get a closer look at the prizes, eyes roaming over all the fun things until they finally settle on one of them.

“I’ll take that packet of rings,” she gives Paige a devilish smirk, "I think I just got engaged.”

Paige gapes at Azzi while the woman fetches the packet of rings that Azzi had chosen. As far as fake jewelry goes, the rings are kind of atrocious. Huge colorful stones are placed haphazardly on a silver ring that looks like it might rust the next seconds. Azzi picks out a pink one and hands it to Paige, before holding out her hand. Still slightly dazed by everything, Paige does as she’s gestured to and slips the ring onto Azzi’s ring finger. And she’s sure she must be going insane because the ugly ring looks quite pretty on Azzi’s slender fingers.

“You better get me a real one eventually,” Azzi says and she’s joking, Paige knows that but she can’t help the part of her that takes it at face value, the part of her that subconsciously promises Azzi to get her a real one eventually. She’s only fifteen and she’s sure she doesn’t know what love is but standing here in the cool Minnesota summer breeze, getting fake engaged to a girl she feels like she’s known her whole life, Paige thinks, maybe she’d like to learn.

2. crossing boundaries (taking leaps of faith)

The second time Paige says it, they’ve crossed a line in their friendship and she kind of wants to cross a couple more. By this point, Paige is pretty sure she’s at least a little in love with her best friend. It had been okay when she’d first got to UConn, the distance between them allowing Paige to ignore her feelings that had become unbearably intense over the covid year she’d spent with the Fudds. And then the thing she’d worked her ass off to make happen had happened and Azzi had come to UConn. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy to have Azzi here. With her being injured for most of her sophomore season, there’s no one else Paige would have rather had by her side through it all. It was the playing platonic that drove her a little insane. Because somewhere between the arguing over nothing and the talking about everything, Azzi had stopped being her best friend and had become something more.

It all comes to a head during a mid-April night at Ted’s. They’re partially still in mourning for their national championship loss and so it’s not really a surprise that the team is perhaps a little freer with the alcohol than they normally are. It’s definitely the alcohol that has Paige seething in jealousy at Azzi nonchalantly flirting with some random girl who had had the nerve to buy the brunette a drink. And it’s definitely the alcohol that makes her march over angrily and squeeze herself between the two girls. But it might be a little much to blame the half a glass of spiked shirley Paige had had for the way she wraps her arms around Azzi’s waist, leaning into the younger girl’s personal space in a way that is decidedly not platonic.

“Hi love,” she whispers, blinking her eyes up at a rather confused Azzi, who despite said confusion, doesn’t push her away. Instead, Azzi’s arms circle around Paige’s neck. It’s muscle memory really. But now they’re far closer than appropriate for two best friends and Paige swears she can make out every detail on Azzi’s face. Her eyes fixate on Azzi’s throat as the darker-skinned girl swallows, a sign of nervous anticipation, and she fights the visceral urge to bite down on Azzi’s neck and leave a mark so permanent, no other girl would ever have the audacity to look at what’s hers.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” she hears the offending flirt say.

“Well now you do,” Paige replies before Azzi can respond, keeping her eyes focused on the girl in front of her, “she’s not interested.”

The sound of feet scurrying away makes Paige smirk. Azzi raises her eyes but doesn’t make a move to pull away.

“You looked like you needed help,” the blond lies blatantly, “and I’m nothing if not helpful.”

“Is that what you were doing? Trying to be helpful?” Azzi asks, a coy smile playing on her lips as she presses closer to Paige, “because I could have sworn you were jealous.”

Paige’s breath hitches as she focuses on the way Azzi says those words, the way her lips quirk and her eyes sparkle, because it’s not the alcohol this time, no she’s pretty damn sure Azzi’s flirting with her. The realization sets her heart ablaze and she grips Azzi’s waist even tighter, trying to find something stable to hold onto.

“And if- if I was- if I was jealous, then what?”

“I’d tell you, you didn’t really have a reason to be. She wasn’t really my type.”

“Yeah,” Paige can’t help but smirk, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence, “what is your type Azzi?”

Azzi hums, her shy smile a response in itself. They’re so close now, with their chests pressed up against each other, that Paige can hear the erratic thrum of Azzi’s heart beating. It’s comforting in a way, to know that she has the effect on Azzi too, that she’s the reason Azzi’s breathing is so uneven. Subconsciously, Paige leans in, eyes tracing the outline of Azzi’s lips, her entire body wracked with want.

“Azzi,” she whispers, knocking her forehead against the other girl’s, “tell me to stop.”

Anticipation burns against Paige’s skin, the feeling of finally racing through her body. She’s hypnotized by the way they seem to be breathing as one. Her eyes close of their own accord and she can almost feel the taste of Azzi’s lips when the brunette presses a gentle hand against her chest.

“Stop,” Azzi whispers.

Paige’s eyes fly open. Stung, she lets go of Azzi’s waist immediately, the tears ready to fall. She’d been so sure she’d read the moment right-

“Hey, hey no Paige wait,” Azzi scrambles to grab onto the blonde, fully aware of the panic that has settled into the other girl's bones, “I didn’t- I just- I didn’t mean it like that. I- fuck sorry, I don’t- I want-” she takes in a deep breath, her brain unable to speak her mind, “I want to kiss you, I do- I just don’t want our first kiss to be in front of all these people.”

The last part is a little mumbled but Paige hears it clear as day. She gapes at her best friend, not sure if she wants to shake her or jump her bones (both, definitely both).

“You couldn’t have just said that?” Paige asks exasperatedly, “I don’t really take rejection well in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I panicked, you were so close and I was distracted,” Azzi rambles incoherently and Paige is so ridiculously endeared by this girl.

“Azzi,” she says slowly, stepping back into the younger girl's space, and holding out a hand, “you wanna get out of here?”

She’s rewarded with a bright smile and Azzi grabbing her outstretched hand with no hesitation. As the two of them make their way through the crowd, hands locked together, Paige can’t think of a moment where she’s felt this ecstatic. They stumble through the street towards their apartments, giggling like kindergarteners who’ve just been given a sweet treat. After a year, longer, of holding it in, Paige feels like she’s finally free.

They’ve barely made it to Paige’s room, before she has Azzi pinned against the wall causing the younger girl to let out an audible gasp. It’s sinful the way she looks up at Paige, as if she’d do anything for her. And god Paige wants to find out just how much she can push that.

“Tell me to stop,” Paige repeats her words from the bar, her right thumb coming up to lightly caressing Azzi’s bottom lip. She’s giving her an out, a last chance before they cross a line in their friendship that they’ll never be able to uncross. But her words evoke a new fire in Azzi’s eyes and Paige just knows.

“Absolutely not.”

She’s not sure who kisses who first, doesn’t really care but she knows she’s never felt anything quite like this. It’s something beyond sparks, something more exciting, yet something ever so calming. All she knows is she wants more. Her hands roam everywhere, moving from Azzi’s neck, to her arms, to her hips before moving even lower. And Azzi fucking whimpers, the sound of it causing Paige to press even harder against her. She pulls away and Azzi chases her lips for a second, before Paige attaches them to the younger girl’s neck instead.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this,” Paige manages to get out, biting against Azzi’s skin. She means to be soft, she really does but all she can think about is leaving a mark, a possessive bruise that would make sure everyone knew not to touch what was hers.

“Not longer than me,” Azzi’s hands are tangled in Paige's hair and she’s putty in the older girl’s hand. Paige could ask anything of her, and Azzi’s sure, she’d give it to her in a heartbeat.

“I’m gonna make it worth the wait,” Paige pants, moving away from the brunette’s neck to kiss her again, “I promise.”

“Gonna show me what the hype is about?” Azzi says cheekily, as Paige pulls her onto the bed. She climbs on top of the blond, straddling her thighs.

“Gonna show you even better,” Paige whispers and Azzi shivers at the promise in her voice. And then Paige’s lips her on hers again, desperate and impatient. Her hands work meticulously as she unbuttons Azzi’s blouse, leaving the young girl’s upper body bare. Azzi can't help the insecurity that creeps into her when Paige stares at her like that, like she’s seeing her for the first time.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Paige says, erasing away the doubt, “fuck, marry me.”

Paige doesn’t know why that slips out, doesn’t know why it rolls off her tongue so smoothly, doesn’t know why it doesn’t feel like a completely preposterous thing to say at the moment.

“You say that to all your hookups?” Azzi asks slowly. It’s said light-heartedly enough but the hints of doubt aren’t hard to catch. In one swift motion, Paige flips them so that Azzi’s lying underneath her. Using her elbows, she hovers over the younger girl, making sure she can see the sincerity in her eyes.

“No, no I don't. And you,” she says pointedly, needing Azzi to understand how she feels, “are not a hookup.”

Azzi smiles, arms wrapping around Paige’s neck, “maybe take me out on a date first and then we can talk about marriage.”

“Yeah, yeah I will but,” Paige grins devilishly, fingers dancing around the waistband of Azzi’s jeans, “I think I’ll fuck you first.

3. on the brink of destruction (maybe you’ll catch me)

The third time Paige says it, she’s desperately trying to save them from falling apart. They’ve always known this moment would come, known it even before they’d known each other. To play in the WNBA had always been the end-goal for both of them and it should be the happiest moment of their lives with both of them being guaranteed first-round picks who were likely to make a roster. But the whole thing comes with the caveat, that for the first time in almost four years, Paige and Azzi will have to learn to live apart from each other.

Paige hadn’t even considered that it would mean they’d have to break up. The whole season, despite a thousand and one conversations about the draft, the idea hadn’t once been brought up. Long distance would be difficult, Paige knew that, but she’d figured they’d tackle it in the same way they’d faced everything else: together. Apparently Azzi thought differently. Apparently Azzi had been thinking about it for a while and last night, when she’d finally said the words out loud, Paige’s whole world had fallen off balance. She’d tried interrupting but once Azzi had her mind set on something, it was hard to deter her.

It’s been less than 24 hours since and KK and Ice have done everything in their power to distract her but Paige can’t stop thinking about it. If she hadn’t known Azzi for as long as she had, then maybe she would have believed the façade of coldness and practicality that her girlfriend had put on. She had spoken as if she was negotiating the end of a contract, her face set firmly on neutral. But Paige had seen the way she was fidgeting uncontrollably with the hem of her shirt, heard the little crack in her voice when she’d said the actual words out loud.

“Was she at breakfast?” Paige asks, interrupting whatever spiel KK had been going on. The sophomore gives her a look that veers between irritation and sympathy.

“Dude, we weren’t even at breakfast. We ate with you up here, remember?”

“Right,” Paige says, mindlessly thumbing at her sheets. She’s in unfamiliar territory, trying to navigate a world without Azzi. She can’t even remember the last morning she’d had that didn’t start with some form of communication with her girlfriend, a good morning kiss or a text or a call.

“Y’all are being stupid,” Ice supplies unhelpfully.

“Don’t even start,” Paige quips back defensively, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Maybe that’s the issue,” KK’s report is met with a well-aimed pillow in her direction.

“Can you guys maybe just take my side for once please?”

“Children of divorce don’t choose sides,” Ice says solemnly. She has the foresight to duck and Paige’s water bottle hits the wall with a resounding thud, “aye no violence.”

“Fuck off and go away,” Paige groans, burying her face in her hands.

“This is literally my room,” Ice replies and KK snickers.

“I’m so glad my misery amuses you guys.”

Before either of the two underclassmen can reply, a familiar voice resounds around the room and Paige’s heart almost beats out of her chest. It’s been less than 24 hours but fuck, she’s missed the sound of it.

“Ice do you have- oh.”

“Hi Azzi,” KK says enthusiastically and Paige can already picture the forced smile Azzi gives her. She hates that stupid smile.

“Hey KK. I- uh, Ice I was looking for the necklace you borrowed. I- uh wanted to wear it with my dress for the draft, but umm- it’s- it’s fine. I’ll come back later.”

Paige scoffs, suddenly annoyed. She lifts her head from her hands and Azzi’s already looking at her but the minute their eyes meet, she looks away. It only irritates Paige further.

“It’s fine Az. I can get it for you now,” Ice says, hopping up and rummaging through one of her.

“No it’s fine, I should go. I have to go do…something.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Paige says before she can stop herself. The awkwardness in the air changes to a sinister tension. KK and Ice wear identical expressions of shock and worry, looking back and forth between Paige and Azzi.

“Excuse me?” Azzi says eyes narrowing dangerously.

“All that bullshit you said last night. You said we’d still be friends. You said it’d be like we used to be before. You said things wouldn’t change that much and this would be for the better. You said we’d be fine. But fucking hell Azzi, you can’t even stand to be in the same room as me right now,” tears prickle in her eyes and she can’t tell if they’re from anger or pain or frustration.

“I-It will be okay. We’ll be fine, eventually,” Azzi pauses, struggling to get the words out, “I just- we just- we need time to learn how to be just friends again.”

“I don’t want to be just friends Azzi,” Paige spits.

“Neither do I,” Azzi bursts out, hands clenching, “but we have to try.”

“Oh-kay,” KK cuts in, noticing the rise in voices, “just because Ice and I call ourselves children of divorce, doesn’t mean y’all have to act like an actual divorced couple. All this yelling is not good for my heart.”

“Shut up KK,” they snap at the same time, and KK immediately raises her hands in surrender.

“Why,” Paige turns her attention back to Azzi, “why do we have to try? You don’t want to be just friends. I sure as shit don’t want to be just friends. So what’s the fucking point? When neither of us want this, why are we fucking doing this?”

“Because I’m scared okay?” Azzi yells, her eyes widening as the truth slips out. She immediately cups her mouth, her anger fading away. Tears pool at the corner of her eyes, as emotions she’d been trying so hard to push down, bubble to the surface. She sees the way Paige eyes soften, can feel the sympathy in the way KK and Ice are looking at her, but before any of them can say anything, her feet are moving, desperate to get away from them, from Paige.

“Paige,” Ice hisses when the blond stays rooted in place, “move.”

It does the trick, shaking Paige out of her trance. She doesn’t need to be told twice. When she gets to Azzi’s room, she stops outside the door. The goal is to fix things but she’s so scared of damaging them further. Taking a deep breath, she lets herself in and is unsurprised to find Azzi pacing the length of the room.

“You have ‘got to stop running away from me. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Paige jokes. She’s not expecting a smile in return, the situation is far too tense, but when Azzi looks at her with nothing but sadness, all the humour leaves her body.

“Please leave me alone,” Azzi whispers, “please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“You’re the one making this harder Az. We don’t have to do this,” Paige takes a step forward, groaning when Azzi immediately takes a step back.

“We do because otherwise we’re gonna fall apart. You don’t see it but we’re gonna end up resenting each other because we miss each other so much,” Azzi says miserably, the tears freely falling now.

“You think I’ll miss you less if you’re not my girlfriend? You think breaking up is going to stop us from falling apart?” Paige asks incredulously, “you know you’ve had some stupid ideas before Azzi, but this, this one might be the dumbest yet.”

“Well, do you have a better one?” Azzi asks, throwing her hands in the air.

“Yes, let’s just get married instead! Then we’ll have to be stuck with each other for life and you can stop trying to break up with me,” and maybe it’s somewhat of an irrational thing to say but Paige finds that she means it.

“Paige,” Azzi grits out, “this is serious.”

“I’m being dead serious right now actually.”

“Marriage is not going to stop us from being drafted to different teams. It’s not gonna stop us from having to live in different states.”

“Neither is breaking up,” Paige yells. Frustrated, she marches over to Azzi, encircling her arms around the other girl who immediately struggles against Paige's hold but the blonde is in no mood to let this, whatever it is, go on any further.

“Let me go-”

“No. It’s my turn to talk okay,” Paige says, tightening her grip, “get this through your head, we are not breaking up.”

She pinches Azzi’s waist when the younger girl tries to protest. Her girlfriend is nothing if not stubborn but so is Paige.

“You know I barely slept last night? I’ve been so fucking miserable all day. I’ve spent every minute thinking about you, every minute missing you. And if we do this, that feeling of missing you and knowing I can’t have you, is how I’m going to feel for the rest of my life. And that, that might kill me. I know you think it’ll be easier being friends or whatever but I can’t do that Azzi. I can’t be your friend. I can’t be near you and not kiss you. I can’t call you and not tell you I love you,” Paige’s voice breaks near the end as tears begin to stream down her face.

“I’m scared. I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose you,” Azzi confesses in a whisper and it’s heartbreaking how vulnerable the darker-skinned girl sounds.

“Then don’t. Keep me and let me keep you. I know you're scared baby but,” Paige presses her forehead against Azzi’s, “but trust me Azzi, we’ll make it work okay. I need you to believe that. I need you to believe in us. Please Azzi, please.”

Azzi closes her eyes and Paige can almost see the cogs turning in her brain. Waiting for a decision is excruciating and the silence feels deafening as Paige’s intrusive thoughts drive her a little insane.

“Okay,” Azzi breathes out finally, “okay we’ll try it your way. But if it doesn’t work-”

“It’s going to work,” Paige says determinedly. And finally, Azzi smiles, the real one that Paige loves.

“It’s going to work,” she repeats back, leaning up to kiss Paige and letting out an ungraceful squawk when Paige dodges her lips, “excuse me.”

“You don’t get a kiss,” the older girl replies, moving out of reach and crossing her arms, “you just tried to break up with me. Twice.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whines, “please, I haven’t kissed you for hours.”

“And whose fault is that?” Paige accuses but there’s no true anger behind her words.

Azzi pouts for a second before it’s replaced by a mischievous smirk. Before Paige can react, she jumps onto the blond, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck. The impact of it causes Paige to stumble back a little bit before her hands settle on Azzi's hips to keep them both stable.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Azzi babbles, kissing every inch of Paige’s face.

“Okay, okay, okay, you’re forgiven.” Paige laughs. She’s never been particularly good at staying mad at Azzi. The knot in her chest, which’s been pressing against her ribcage since last night, finally unravels as Paige tugs Azzi closer, finally pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. A low wolf-whistle from the doorway breaks them apart far sooner than they’d have liked.

“Y’all didn’t even last a whole 24 hours,” KK’s voice is amused but there’s a hint of relief hidden in it.

“Should’ve closed the fucking door,” Paige grumbles as Azzi giggles into the crevice between her head and her neck.

“That’s gotta be a record for shortest breakup ever or something,” and there’s Ice, looking equally as amused.

“You know what that means though, parents are back together and,” KK smirks at Ice and Paige looks between the two of them questioningly, “you owe me 50 bucks.”

“Excuse me?” Paige asks with a raised eyebrow, although she’s pretty sure she already knows.

“Ice said y’all would be broken up for a week. I gave y’all three days,” KK grins triumphantly, despite Ice giving her a dirty look.

“I can’t believe you guys would bet on us,” Azzi shakes her head disapprovingly as she lifts her head, “actually no scratch that. I’m not surprised at all.”

“We were too generous with it though,” Ice gives them a knowing look, “can’t believe y’all thought you could survive for years.”

“Not y’all,” Paige corrects, “just Azzi.”

Azzi groans, “you’re never gonna let me forget this are you?”

“Nope,” Paige says happily, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple, who immediately grins. And everything in the world is right again. It’s not going to be easy being god knows how many miles apart, but Paige knows they’ll be fine. They have to be. She won’t let them be anything else.

4. the high of it all (as long as you hold me)

The fourth time she says it, Paige doesn’t even fully remember it the day after. She won’t find out exactly what she’s said until a couple of years into the future when Azzi tells her the story with a fond look in her eye. It’s a month or so into their rookie seasons when their respective teams meet: the Lynx vs the Mystics, funny how that had worked out. So far, they’d both been doing well, locked in a competitive race for rookie of the year. As a result, their matchup is well-hyped, but no one’s more excited for it, than the two of them.

The game ends with the Lynx winning and Paige shoots Azzi a victorious smirk which earns her a familiar eye roll. She loves winning always but this time there’s the additional reward of having her girlfriend back in her bed for the first time in weeks. The anticipation of it has her running her tongue across her lips, and with the way Azzi’s eyes glaze over, it’s clear they’re thinking the same thing.

A couple of hours later, the Lynx team is spread out across one of the bars near their arena and Paige is definitely teetering on the edge of being drunk. She’d been a lot more reserved the other couple of times they’d done this, not wanting to take the chance of potentially embarrassing herself in front of her older teammates. But she feels freer tonight and the reason for it hasn't walked in yet.

“You two haven’t changed at all huh?” Dorka laughs, as she watches Paige pouting at the door.

“Hey,” Paige whines, “I haven’t seen her in months! And now she’s taking too long.”

“One month,” Dorka corrects, shaking her head fondly, “and you talk to her every other hour.”

“Same differ-”

“Hi,” an unfamiliar voice cuts Paige off, an auburn haired girl sliding into the stool next to her, “you’re Paige Bueckers?”

“Last time I checked,” Paige replies goofily, eyes still fixed on the front door.

“I’m Shay. I’m a huge fan,” the stranger gushes, her smile radiant, “could I maybe get a picture?”

Never one to disappoint, especially not when she’s a little out of it, Paige nods. She wraps her arm casually around Shay’s shoulder, and makes a peace sign with her other hand as the other girl takes a selfie.

“Thank you,” Shay takes a deep breath, “I uh, I was wondering if I could maybe get your num-”

“Babyyyyyy,” Paige lets out a shrill squeak as she spots her girlfriend finally entering the door. All else seems to fade away as the blonde practically skips towards her girlfriend. Dorka, who’d been watching the previous exchange, can’t help but give a very shell-shocked-looking Shay a sympathetic smile.

“Hi babyyyy,” Paige croons again as she throws her arms around her girlfriend's neck, burying her face contentedly into Azzi’s neck. It doesn’t matter that she’s an inch or so taller than the younger girl, she fits in Azzi’s arms pretty perfectly.

“Hi drunkie,” Azzi says fondly, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair and eliciting a happy sigh from the inebriated blond in her arms, “started without me I see.”

“You took too long and I was bored,” Paige says, snuggling further, her breath tickling against Azzi’s collarbone, making the younger girl’s breath hitch. Smirking, Paige bites down gently, knowing the exact effect it’ll have. Almost five years together, and the idea of marking her girlfriend still drives her a little insane.

“Behave,” Azzi warns, her voice breathy, “we’re in public.”

“Then let’s get out of public,” Paige whispers as she caresses the mark she’s just left on Azzi’s throat with her tongue, clearly proud of her handiwork, “let me take you home.”

“I just got here babe,” it’s a weak response, they both know it.

“So what?”

“I-,” Azzi stutters as Paige continues to pepper kisses into her neck, one of her hands sliding down to brush against Azzi’s exposed navel, “I haven’t even said hi to anyone else.”

“Are you here for anyone else? Or are you here for me?”

It’s a blur how it happens, but one minute Paige is tucked under Azzi’s arms, the next Azzi finds herself pressed against the bar, Paige's hands barricading her. It's too dimly lit for anyone to be fully aware of what’s going on but Azzi desperately tries to stifle a moan when Paige shifts so that she’s filthily grinding against one of Azzi’s thighs, lips still attached to her neck.

“Gonna make you feel so good baby. Gonna give you whatever you want. Gonna give you everything you need,” the blond promises, knowing, when Azzi’s eyes involuntarily close, that she’s close to getting what she wants, “just let me take you home.”

“Azzi!” The feeling of getting her way is short lived as Dorka’s voice echoes around them. Paige groans as her girlfriend’s eyes immediately fly open and she ducks under Paige arms to hug their old UConn teammate.

As the two other girls meet, Paige downs another drink, mumbling about “fucking Hungarians.”

“Ignore her,” Azzi rolls her eyes, still hugging Dorka, who lets out a laugh.

“Alright that’s enough,” Paige frowns, pulling Azzi back into her so that her back is pressed against Paige’s chest, “go find your own Azzi to hug, this one’s mine and we’re leaving.”

Sober Paige does not get testy when Azzi hugs other people, especially not old teammates and friends, well not a lot anyway. But drunk Paige doesn’t like sharing her girlfriend, no matter how platonically that is.

“Always so possessive Bueckers,” Dorka teases, but she complies “it was good seeing you Az. Don’t be late to practice Paige.”

The blond point guard lets out a satisfied sigh, lacing her hands with Azzi’s, “see you’ve met people, now can we please go?”

“I’ve met one person,” Azzi rolls her eyes but doesn’t put up a fight as her girlfriend begins to pull her out of the bar.

The uber ride back to Paige’s apartment is relatively silent with Paige tucking herself into Azzi, who can tell that despite her previous eagerness, her girlfriend is pretty likely to pass out the minute she lies down. It doesn’t matter really. Cuddles. Sex. Whatever. As long as it’s with Paige, Azzi loves every minute of it. Besides, there’s always tomorrow morning.

“M’sorry, m’so tired,” Paige mumbles as she does exactly what Azzi had expected by flopping onto the bed the minute they tumble into the bedroom, “make it up to you tomorrow. I promise.”

The brunette shakes her head with a smile, taking both their shoes off, before lying down next to her girlfriend, who immediately curls into her, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s torso.

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you,” she whispers into Azzi’s skin, eyes closed.

“Missed you too baby,” the darker skinned girl pressed a kiss onto her girlfriend’s forehead, squeezing her arm gently.

There’s a pause and for a second Azzi thinks maybe Paige has fallen asleep until the next words come out her mouth and steal Azzi’s breath away.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Paige confesses in a whisper, “you’re gonna make the prettiest bride. We’re gonna have such a beautiful wedding. Outside. Maybe on a basketball court. And Coach is gonna officiate it and everyone’s gonna be there. Our family, our friends and it’s gonna be wonderful. The best ever.”

Azzi can’t bring herself to speak, the emotions suddenly becoming a little too strong. She knows Paige is drunk but the words are so sincere, like they’re things Paige has been thinking about for a long time.

“Gonna have two kids,” Paige smiles as she continues to babble, unaware of the effect that has on Azzi, “a girl and a boy. They’re gonna be the most loved kids in the world. And we’re gonna teach them basketball. And they’re gonna be perfect, just like you. Just like us.”

In the silence, Azzi listens to Paige’s breathing even out, a sign that the older girl has drifted into sleep. And she lets herself imagine the picture Paige had just painted for her. As she holds her girlfriend closer to her, she knows she wants that life too. The wedding. The kids. The perfection of it all. She falls asleep dreaming about it, unaware that hidden in the drawer right next to her, is a ring that has her name on it.

5. finding forever (the inevitability of us)

When Paige finally proposes, they’re back at the Minnesota State Fair. She’s had the ring for a couple of years now, waiting for things to fall into place so that they could finally play on the same team and actually be together. That hadn’t been an easy process and of course, they’d argued about it, perhaps going a little too far at times. But now, when she finally gets to wake up to Azzi’s peaceful sleepy smile, every single morning, it all seems worth it.

The proposal, if Paige is honest, is just a formality. In her head, she’s been a married woman for a long time. Whatever ceremony they’d have, whatever papers they’d sign, wouldn’t do much to alter their already domestic lives. But she wanted that celebration, the moment with her family and friends where they’d become bound in the one way they weren’t yet: legally. And this proposal was the start of that.

The list of ideas she’d planned out and discussed with their family and friends was long and had earned her plenty of sighs and eye rolls. Nothing had seemed quite right until she’d whined about it to both their mothers. They’d said to go back to the beginning and it had all clicked into place.

As they have every year since they’d started coming to the state fair together, they’re engaged in a competition again. Every year, they get a little bit more competitive and every year their families' sighs get a little heavier. Something about it, makes the two of them reverse back to being fifteen. The ridiculous trash talk, the sticking their tongues out at each other, the exaggerated pouting when they lose, it’s all further proof of them still being children at heart. Except now, when Azzi pouts, Paige gets to kiss it off.

They’re tied again this summer, as they seem to be most years. Though this year, there’s been a little bit of planning on Paige’s part.

“Pop-a-shot it is,” Azzi sighs, “even though you absolutely cheated on that last hole in mini golf,” she turns to their families, who normally would have left by now but have stayed back today, with a dramatic spin, “and I can’t believe you all saw it, but you’re taking her side.”

“Not me Azzi, I’m on your side. I know she cheated,” Drew, the traitor, chirps with a smirk and Paige glares at her little brother whose loyalty to her girlfriend never wavers.

“Thank you Drew. The only person who loves me for real,” Azzi puts one hand to her heart, and ruffles the younger boy’s with the other.

“Save the dramatics for when you lose babe,” Paige says, rolling her eyes, “alright rock paper scissors.”

They play best of three as they always do. Paige wins the first round. Azzi wins the second. There’s momentary panic when Azzi technically wins the third because well, Paige sort of needs to be in control if this is going to work. The thing is Azzi likes to mix up whether she’ll choose to go first or second, according to her it keeps Paige on her toes. But today Paige really needs her girlfriend to go second.

“Oh Az no cheating,” Tim cuts in, coming to the rescue, “you waited to see what she’d do.”

“WHAT?” Azzi squeals, “I absolutely did not.”

“Oh honey, I think you did,” Katie sends Paige a wink and she can’t help but smile at the family she’s found.

“You’re not serious,” Azzi says with a betrayed voice, squinting at her parents, before turning to Paige’s mom, who gives her a consoling pat, “please adopt me.”

“Oh quit whining cheater,” Paige teases, “I’m going first.”

She steps up to the line for the game, feeling more nervous than she ever has really because this is it. There isn’t really a world in which she thinks Azzi will say no, at least not one where Paige continues breathing after. But she needs this to be perfect. Bouncing the ball for a second, she takes in a deep breath before raising her arms and shooting. It goes in, barely touching the room. So does the next. And the next one and the next one, until Paige has gotten nine shots in.

As she goes to shoot the last one, Azzi's voice echoes around her, “miss it for me babe.”

And she does. It’s probably one of the weakest shot’s she’s ever taken in her life, the ball falling far below the basket. Behind her, she can hear their brother’s snickering.

“Damn someone should send that to Coach,” Azzi teases, hip-checking Paige as she comes to take her spot, “better luck next time baby.”

“Yeah, yeah let’s see you do better,” Paige replies cockily, but her hands are sweating with nerves.

“Oh you know I will,” her girlfriend responds with a grin, as she makes the first basket, that same perfect arc as always. Paige holds her breath on every shot, as the ball goes in flawlessly every time, their families cheering loudly for each one of them. As the last basket gets closer, Drew gives Paige’s hand a tight squeeze and gets a grateful smile in return.

Taking a deep breath, as Azzi gets ready to take her last turn, Paige repeats the same words she’d said, the first time they’d been in this situation, “if you make the last shot, you have to marry me.”

“What?” Azzi whips around immediately, her eyes bright with confusion. Tongue-tied, Paige only shrugs and smiles, watching closely as Azzi lets the words sink in. A determined look crosses her face, followed by a mischievous smirk, and Paige’s heart swells. She knows the ball is going in the hoop even before the other girl's arms are in shooting position. And she’s right. The ball arcs in air and falls through the basket. And instead of the patent WINNER that normally lights up when someone makes the 10 shots, a new phrase appears on the dashboard.

MARRY ME

Azzi gasps, hands flying to her mouth. When she whirls around, Paige is already on one knee and their families are watching with the biggest smiles.

“I knew you lost on purpose,” Azzi breathes out, “you’ve never taken such a shit shot like that last one in your life.”

“Seriously,” Paige gapes up at her, “that’s what you get from this.”

“Babe, you hate losing,” Azzi emphasizes as if that explains everything and well, maybe it does.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige nods, reaching in her back pocket to pull out the ring, “but if you say yes to me today, then it doesn’t matter if I win or lose in a stupid arcade game, or on the court or anywhere, if you say yes Azzi, no matter what, I’ll always be a winner because I’ll have you. And I had a slightly better, slightly longer speech planned but it’s kinda all gone from my mind now, so I’ll just get right to it,” she manages a watery smile in response to her girlfriend’s tearful laugh, “Azzi, my soulmate and the love of my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Oh my god yes, of course, yes,” Azzi manages to get out, before she falls to her knees and into Paige’s arms, pressing her lips fervently against the blonde’s, their happy tears mixing into each other. Behind them, their families burst into cheers, hugging one another in congratulations.

“Wait, wait,” Paige pulls away, her smile stretching across her whole face, “I need to put the ring on you.”

She opens the ring box, to reveal a silver band that’s designed with a large diamond in the shape of a heart in the middle with two infinity shapes made out of smaller diamonds on each side of the heart. Azzi holds out her hand, eyes shining as Paige slips it onto her ring finger. It sparkles underneath the glow of the moonlight.

“You finally got me a real one,” she whispers, continuing to admire the ring, “fuck, Paige it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah it took me a couple of years but I always knew I would. Look at the inside,” Paige nudges and Azzi squints to see the inscription on the inner edge of the ring.

Since Always

The meaning of it is clear and Azzi lets out something in between a sob and a laugh before throwing herself back into Paige’s waiting arms.

“I love you,” she whispers into her girlfriend’s, no, her fiance’s ears, “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Paige’s arms tighten around Azz as she repeats it back, the word wife, evoking a newfound feeling she doesn’t quite know how to put in words. Their families begin to crowd them, until they’re all just a heap of bodies, likely earning some odd looks from passers-by. But it really doesn’t matter. It’s odd to think there had ever been a time when Paige had stood in this same cool Minnesota summer evening breeze and not know what love was, not known who Azzi was. Because this right here, with her fiancé in her arms, and their family all around them, this, she thinks, is the definition of love.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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connorsbonez · 4 months

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Stalkers and Cryptids

Timeline: Pre-OT4, Middle of OT3

About: Tim and Wes have a conversation about fucking up and how to proceed afterwards.

Court Talk

Tim watched as Wes turned the basketball in his hands with a contemplative expression on his freckled face out of the corner of his eye. The ginger hadn’t said anything since he dragged Tim out to a basketball court, leaving them in prolonged silence, and the vigilante could only imagine what possessed Wes to bring him out here.

He wondered distantly whether or not he could come up with a good reason to leave early without guilt so he could go back to the cold case he’d been working on.

Tim just wanted to be able to drown everything out, ignore his personal problems, and hyper focus on cases so he could actually help someo-

He grunted as something slammed into his stomach, instinctually grabbing it before it registered to him what it was. Tim glanced down at the basketball in confusion before looking up at an unamused Wes with knitted brows.

Wes scoffed softly, his head rolled back slightly as well as his eyes at the motion before he met Tim’s gaze again. “You were making that face again.”

“What face?”

“That really dumb one when you’re slowly slipping into self-depreciation from overthinking.”

Tim frowned. “I don’t make that face.” Who was he kidding, he probably did.

The ginger raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, instead gesturing a hand over at the hoop. “Think you can make that shot?”

He pursed his lips, a feeling of frustration sparking in his chest, “What are you doing?” He asked, his grip on the basketball tightening. “Why are we here?”

Why are you still choosing to be around me? To have me in your life still?

“To rewrite the Declaration of Independence in a backwards Dutch-Ghostspeak love language.” Wes replied voice laced so heavily with sarcasm that Tim could practically taste it, crossing his arms as he leaned back on his heels. “We’re here to hang out, play basketball and I kick your ass at it, and I don’t know…” The conspiracy theorist paused, trailing off, the frown on his face softening as he looked down with a grimace at the ground for a brief moment. “…talk, I guess.” He ended the sentence awkwardly.

This is the weirdest breakup he’s ever experienced. Tim couldn’t help but think and he says as much, earning himself an incredulous look from Wes that quickly morphed into a familiar expression of ‘you’re such a fucking idiot’ and Tim used to think it wasn’t possible to have that look and have it still manage to look so fond (so painfully fond), but still very much annoyed, until the very first time he saw Wes make that expression at Danny and later Tim himself.

“Why the hell would you think that?”

Because I messed up, because my mistake got him hurt which in turn hurt you, because I’m a stupid horrible person who couldn’t not be nosy for one fucking moment and doesn’t deserve this and shouldn’t have had pretended I did.

“I think you know.” He answered vaguely, glancing away.

Wes’ eyes narrowed slightly, green eyes seemed to soften into a sort of understanding, an understanding much deeper than just getting what Tim meant and he couldn’t begin to imagine what Wes got. The ginger sighed and opened his arms, obligating the vigilante to bounce the basketball into his hands. Wes twisted the ball in his grip for a moment before he started bouncing it idly as he turned to face the hoop, Tim followed his gaze briefly before settling back at the theorist.

“I almost exposed Danny’s identity to a government branch that wanted to vivisect him and use him for experiments.” Wes confessed almost with an eerie casualness if not for the breathless way he said it, like he had to force the words out or else they’d never be heard, as he made the shot, the ball traced the rim before falling through the hoop, the bouncing was almost louder than it should have been as Tim stood in stiffened silence, trying to process what Wes just said.

Not that Wes gave him the time, continuing to plow through this conversation as he walked over to grab the ball, it seemed to shake in his hold as he stared down at it. “I’ve never been good at keeping secrets in the sense that I couldn’t leave things to lay, I didn’t understand that some things shouldn’t be brought to light. Ever. When I saw a mystery, I wanted to solve it and show it off to everyone and their mothers.”

Wes let out a huff that sounded close to a dull laugh. “Danny had a mystery that I had solved ages ago, it was pretty obvious for me, the problem was that no one seemed to see it too or believed me when I tried to tell them. Of course, I couldn’t leave it as that. I just had to get people to believe me and See The Truth.” His nose scrunched up at the end of his words and Tim thought that Wes’ green eyes seemed to glow for a moment under the setting sun.

“I did so many stupid things to try and prove it, things that Danny will probably happily tell you because some of them are downright mortifying. Like intensive stalking and publicly accusing him of being a ghost with his ghost hunting parents not two feet away from him.” The conspiracy theorist paused, taking in a breath as he bounced the ball a few times as if to comfort or ground himself. “The GIW hadn’t seemed so bad back then, for the humans at least, for those who didn’t know what they were really like and that unfortunately included me for a bit. And I was desperate at this point for anyone to believe me, so desperate that I fucking emailed the GIW about how I knew Phantom’s identity with some of my proof attached to make them believe me.”

Tim’s mouth was slightly hanging from that. “You what?”

Wes grimaced as he bounced the ball more harshly. “Yep. If Danny hadn’t broken into my house when he did to explain, it…would have ended much differently.” He finished his sentence after a moments of hesitation, turning again to throw the ball through the hoop again and going to retrieve it. Leaving Tim to process what he just learned.

Eventually Tim found Wes standing in front of him again, he looked at the ginger and licked his dry lips. “How’d you fix it?” He asked, his voice coming out more quiet than he wanted too. “How…did you get Danny to forgive you for that? He must have been angry with you.”

Wes blinked slowly, leaning back on his heels in a casual manner. “Oh. He didn’t.”

“What?”

“He didn’t forgive me.” Wes said slowly, like he was talking about the weather, as he leaned forward slightly and met Tim’s eyes again.

Tim stared back into green eyes as his body felt chilled, as if someone dumped a bucket of ice water onto him. An ugly bubbling feel squirmed inside him and made him ponder distantly if he was going to throw up or not. “But..you’re dating. You’re together.” He pointed out with a frown, confused on how Danny could date Wes if he didn’t forgive him.

The ginger sighs like he was an old man who just got told his dumbass grandkids were out doing something stupid and he needed to go get them. Wes let the ball hit the ground and roll off slowly as he crossed his arms. “Yeah. We are.”

“But..he doesn’t forgive you.”

“Uh huh.” Wes sighed again and scratched the back of his neck. “Look, here’s the thing Tim, no one’s obligated to forgive someone when they fuck up, majorly or not. It’s purely up to that person. But just because they don’t forgive that person, that doesn’t mean they can’t move on and grow from the experience, and maybe that results in those people losing contact or maybe they get close again as friends, family or lovers. It just..depends on the situation and the people.”

Wes paused to take a breath. “That’s not to, like, say there isn’t work both people have to put into healing that relationship, because there is. It’s so much work to repair that broken trust and mend the foundation so it can grow into something new.”

“Something new?”

“Well, yeah, there’s no fucking way that relationship is going to be exactly the same if it gets fixed.”

Tim swallowed thickly, uncomfortable and a little scared to ask his next question. “So..Danny’s never going to forgive me but with work he’ll hopefully still want to be with me?”

“I don’t know.” Wes replied with a simple shrug, making Tim blink widely in confusion. “What? What do you mean you don’t know?”

“It means, I don’t know whether or not Danny’s gonna forgive you and still want to be in a relationship with you. I’m not Danny, I don’t always know what’s going on in that cracked kaleidoscope mind of his.” Wes explained a bit too fondly as he poked at his temple. “But, if you ask for my personal opinion, you and Danny will be just fine. I mean, he’s dating me, on good terms with multiple of his rouge gallery, and is friends with two of his exes that have either successfully killed him or have tried too.”

That was so much information at once, holy hell. “What-“

“Plus, not to sound egotistical or anything, but what I did was arguably worse compared to what you did. You did it out of a source of concern and love, I did it for the ego boost.”

“Wes-“

“What I’m trying to say is,” Wes carried on, clasping his hands together, “there’s nothing to worry about as long as you guys do some simple little thing.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Wes inhaled and leaned forward slightly. “Talk to one another and figure it out.”

The vigilante paused and blinked several times because…that’s it? Really? And he asks as such, tone utterly confused. Wes laughed in response and shrugged, something he’s been doing a lot recently, as he gave Tim an almost flat look.

“Yep, that’s it. Shocking isn’t it? But yeah, that’s all you really have to do, just…sit down and talk to each other. Figure yourselves out and how y’all are going to continue from there.”

That…was a plan. Not something Tim did very much, both as a Drake and as a Drake-Wayne, but it was a plan nonetheless. It didn’t remove the anxiety that thrashed and clawed inside him, the fear and the what ifs. Not adding that there was something to this plan that was wrong in the way that something wasn’t even mentioned in it.

“What about you?”

Wes paused and his nose scrunched up in confusion. “Huh?”

“What about you.” Tim repeats his words again as he stared down the theorist. “Where do you stand in this situation, Wes? You’ve given me advice and how to proceed with this situation and what could possibly happen but you’ve never stated your own opinion on this.”

Wes frowned slightly at Tim. “I thought it was pretty obvious what my stance was on this.”

“No, no, not really. Well- kind of? Look, I guess what I’m trying is ask is…” Tim paused, resisting the urge to lick his lips as his heart squeezed painfully at the thought he’d formed. “..Should Danny and I…break up because of this, will we also be separating?” Tim’s voice slowly got quieter as he asked the elephant in the room, the dreadful question.

Wes blinked slowly, as if this wasn’t something the ginger had thought too hard about, and he was silent for a long moment which made Tim’s skin itch before he finally replied. “…No. I’m not going to leave you should you and Danny end up breaking up.”

Something loosened in Tim’s chest, only slightly but it was still a nice weight removal all the same.

“Really?”

Wes made a micro expression like he instinctually wanted to say something snarky before his face quickly smoothed out and he nodded. “Really.”

“Okay…okay. I think it’s time I go talk to Danny.”

•• End ••

What did Tim do? Who knows! Up to you I guess.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #tim drake #wes weston #stalkers and cryptids

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ladykailitha · 6 months

Text

Exit Eddie Pursued By a Steve Part 2

As @a-little-unsteddie pointed out, I can't really call it one-shot Saturdays if it has more than one part (the tag made me laugh). But I'm not sure what to call it. It's essentially whatever story I have finished that isn't one of my big three (Well Met By Moonlight, Royal Pain, and Grief (A Friend Indeed)). Which would include one-shots, short stories (like this one) or long fics (like Find My Shade By the Moonlight, my Halloween one).

Part 1

****

“Holy fuck,” Jeff said. “He laughed at an Eddie-ism and not mockingly either.”

“His varsity ring,” Gareth replied numbly. “He gave Eddie his varsity ring.”

“That possessive draping his arms over Eddie’s shoulders...” Brian muttered.

Eddie just chewed happily on his pretzels as he watched his friends repeat all the things that Steve and he had done that morning.

“So...no broken hearts this fine Friday morning, is there?” he said into a brief lull in their retelling.

All three heads snapped his direction.

“How the hell did you manage to convince Steve Harrington to be your boyfriend?” Jeff asked.

“I really don’t think you want the play by play,” Eddie teased.

They all made gagging sounds.

Suddenly there were shadows standing above them.

Eddie looked up to see Tommy H, Carol, and about half the basketball team glaring at him.

“And how I can I help you gentlemen and lady today?” he asked, grinning around chewing on a pretzel.

“What did you do to Steve?” Tommy asked. “What spell did you use, man?”

Gareth snorted.

“This is serious!” Carol shrieked. “You tell your friend to undo whatever it was that he used to curse Steve.”

“Hon,” Jeff said with a raised eyebrow, “if Eddie could do magic don’t you think he would have magicked his way through school and not had to do a second time at being a senior?”

They all kind of looked at each other a moment before the muttering started.

Eddie just shook his head. “Maybe what swayed Steve was just good ‘ole fashioned being taken care of instead of having to take care of everyone else.”

He turned his head and could see Nancy and Jonathan close by listening to him.

“Because,” he continued a little louder, “if you lot had given as much of damn about him as he did about you, maybe I wouldn’t have had to adopt him like have all my other little sheep. So fuck off. And maybe ask Steve why he abandoned you lot.”

He waved them off and went back to eating his lunch.

Steve was showering after gym and could feel the eyes on him. He looked up to see that half of the boys showering were looking at him and the other half was avoiding his eye.

“Did theater turn you gay?” one of the guys asked.

Steve had give it to the kid for actually having the balls to say something. He sighed and turned off the water. “I like dicks and hard chests. I also like soft breasts and wet cunts. It’s not always an either or thing.”

Some of the guys started covering their junks and he laughed.

“Oh god, I don’t care about your dicks, for fuck’s sake,” he said rolling his eyes. He turned the water back on. “I’ve never looked at any of your scaly dicks. I can see how quickly you shower. I don’t need to look at your dick to know you didn’t wash it.”

Some of them ducked their heads as they knew he was talking about them.

“And don’t think for a second that I’m the only queer in this shower room either,” he continued. “You lot aren’t as slick as you think you are. Plus, what would I want with any of your dicks? Have you seen Munson’s? Take it from someone who has, it’s far superior to you lot.”

Steve finished up rinsing his hair and got dressed. The second he was out the door, the locker room erupted in a cacophony of gossip. He just shook his head.

Steve walked out to the parking lot where Eddie was waiting for him. He strolled right up to where his boyfriend was lounging against the driver’s side door of his van.

“Hey, honey,” Eddie greeted with a big smile. “Miss me?”

“Always.” Steve kissed him soundly.

Eddie pulled him closer to deepen the kiss, hands buried into Steve’s gorgeous locks.

When they finally broke apart, Eddie licked his lips. “Damn, Stevie, if you kiss like that all the time it’s no wonder all the girls are after you all the time.”

Steve draped his arms around Eddie’s neck. “Only you, sunshine.”

Eddie tucked his hands into Steve’s back pockets. “You got the play again tonight?”

Steve hummed. “And tomorrow, too.”

Eddie chewed his bottom lip. “I want you to meet my Uncle Wayne. Is it too soon?”

Steve shook his head. “I’d love to meet your uncle, baby. You just don’t want to meet my parents.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “You won’t get into trouble by dating me openly, will you?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t honestly know. But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’d pick you over those jackasses that haven’t been around much since I turned sixteen.”

Eddie hummed. “Okay, baby. I just want you safe.”

Steve kissed him. “Thanks for that. But I’ll be fine.”

“So I’m coming to the play tonight,” Eddie said, “all proper, with a ticket and everything.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You hoping for a repeat performance after last night, Eds?”

“And if I was?” he growled in Steve’s ear.

Steve giggled. “I have an outfit that I’m actually wearing at the end of the play that I think you’ll enjoy a little more than the ballgown, baby.”

Eddie’s nostrils flared in want. “Yeah, honey, we can do that.”

Steve kissed him deeply. “Can’t wait.”

“What time do you have to be here tomorrow for the play?”

“I have to be here at three, why?” Steve asked, rubbing his nose along Eddie’s.

“My uncle has work at two,” Eddie explained, “so why don’t you come over tomorrow for lunch and meet him.”

Steve kissed him fiercely. “Okay, sunshine. I’ll bring pizza, is noon okay?”

Eddie nodded. “I’ll see you then, princess.”

They finally broke apart and Steve walked back the school.

Jeff shook his head and clacked his tongue. “Dude that was the most disgusting display of affection I’ve ever seen. And you’ve met my parents.”

Eddie cackled. “Just wait boys, I have feeling we’re about to get so much worse.”

Eddie sat in the back of the school auditorium and grinned when Steve came out in a yellow robe over just a corset and pantaloons with stockings and kitten-heeled shoes for the scene with Cinderella trying on the glass slipper.

Eddie ran his tongue over his lips slowly. Steve had been right. The ballgown had been a treat, but this? This was the fucking main course.

He waited until all the other guys had filed out of the drama room to enter. He nearly growled when he saw Steve draped against the sofa dressed as he was in the play minus the silk robe. Which was fair. That was a lot harder to keep out of the way.

“Like what you see, beautiful?” Steve murmured. He rand his hands down the corset and Eddie growled. And then pounced.

Sex that time was different. Now that they both knew that they were on the same page, it was both more tender and a lot raunchier.

When they were getting dressed, Steve hummed.

“You know,” he said. “you really are good at making sure there isn’t anything on the clothes.

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “That’s because if you’re sneaking around and don’t want people to know, you learn real quick the art of not letting it show on the outside.”

Steve stopped what he was doing and walked over to him. He lifted his chin and gave him a deep kiss. “You’ll never have to worry about that unless you want to. Like tonight and last night. This is just a bit of fun, but...” he held up Eddie’s right hand that held Steve’s varsity ring, “this is a full on declaration, okay? I won’t ever hide that I’m yours.”

Eddie nodded. “You’ve got it, sweetheart.”

“Good,” Steve murmured. “I’m starving and Benny’s has pancakes on special on Fridays.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, baby, it’ll be my treat.”

****

Part 3

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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alornights · 1 year

Text

⟢ airheads

➜ in which ! stan is head over heels in love with the bimbo girl.

🌷 ﹫stan marsh.

✩ 🦩 warnings﹗suggestive.

🍧 ⟡ notes — me core somehow.

bro i got so carried away with this its so long, i love this sm.

masterlist [ check mlist for details ! ] — previous | next

"Who's that?" Stan murmured nodding his head over to a girl who walked through the cafeteria doors dressed in all pink, looking like a lost deer.

Kenny giggled leaning his chin on his head, "The new love of my life, she's new to town. Dumb and pretty I heard."

"You shouldn't degrade people like that..." Kyle murmured taking a sip of his drink, watching her walk around.

"Totally would bang," Cartman yelled with a grin.

"Like she would ever go for you."

"AY- I HEARD THAT-"

Stan tuned them watching you look around, scratching your hair with some pretty long nails. He sighed standing up, walking over to you, "Do you need help?"

You turned around with a big smile but Stan couldn't help but look down at your chest. "Oh, I just don't know where to sit. Why don't you sit with me!"

"What."

he doesn't understand it. he just can't wrap his head around why he liked you so much.

it wasn't even because of your looks, something about you just scratched his brain the right way.

the way you talk, the way you moved, the way you do anything is just so addictive to him. even you just writing something makes his head spin because it's you.

anytime you talk to him he just blacks out, to be honest, just being around you makes him so dizzy.

the way you pout when you get a question wrong in class has him gripping the table trying not to react to how adorable it was.

"I don't understand." He groaned laying on the concrete ground. "I can't fucking get her out of my mind. It's like she injected me."

"Whipped." Kenny teased passing the ball to Kyle.

"Shut up."

"Probably because you dated Wendy for so long that you're so used to serious mature people," Kyle concluded with a smirk shooting his basketball. "She's dumb, she's energetic, she's cool, she's hot. You like those stuff but you put them aside for Wendy."

"...God I hate it when your smart and right."

"It's part of my charm."

by this point it's mental. there's not a single second where you're not in his brain, even little things get him thinkin' bout you.

would help you in classes he's good at and no matter how much you don't understand it he'll help you get through it.

he thinks you two are a match made in heaven. the emo kid dating the popular bimbo girl? WHERE COULD IT GO WRONG-

loses his mind when he sees you biting the end of your pencil with narrowed eyes trying to understand the material.

gets very flustered when you actually flirt back with him when he accidentally called you gods best creation.

"God's best creation?" You teased leaning over the desk where you two sat and Stan tried his hardest not to look at your rather revealed chest. "Why that means we may be a match made in heaven."

"What."

You giggled taking your hand in his. "You're so cute, Stan."

"What."

he got a bit better but not really.

kenny got hella mad when you started being stan's new passenger princess. instead of all his shit in the glove compartment, he finds a bunch of makeup, candy (not that he doesn't mind), hair ties, and some other shit.

would drive you anywhere you wanted. just ask him and he wills, it doesn't matter what he's doing he'll drop everything for you.

loves listening to you ramble about those reality tv shows or all the twitter drama going on, while very confused, he still loves it.

somehow gets you into rock. he doesn't know how.

bro if you two got to the point of kissing, he's obsessed with your lipstick smudging his lips, it's his fav thing ever.

extra points if you kiss him on his neck and shoulder, HE WILL NOT WIPE THAT SHIT OFF.

if tegrady farms is still around and making money will probably use that money to go shopping with you.

"Are you sure?" You questioned clinging onto his arm as you walked around the mall though the smile on your face said you loved this.

Stan smiled, "Of course baby. I wanna treat you right today."

"Baby?"

maybe he did get bold.

but seeing the way you lit up when he called you that. so he keeps going with it, and he loves how jealous everyone gets.

his dad may complain about all his money disappearing but stan couldn't care less with the way he gets to see you trying on clothes for him like a runway model.

especially those revealing outfits... lord have mercy on him.

couldnt help but stare at your ass when some of skirts and dresses started hiking up.

and tbh if you beg enough, he will get his nails done with you. he fucking enjoyed it, and went back again with you.

bonus, the first time you went with him, you let him pick out the nails and it was your favorite set ever.

and then you started getting very bold.

The two of you sat on the floor of Stan's living room studying for a science test. Stan got lucky that his parents were out of town for the weekend and his sister was off in college.

Unluckily, you two were getting no progress done.

"I don't understand Stan this is too haaard," You whined out loudly throwing your hands over his neck. "I'm boreeed. Why don't we..." You trailed off letting one of your hand land on his thigh, "Why don't we take a break? Have some fun."

"Huh...?" Stan murmured, eyes widened as his body got hotter and hotter with every second, his mind running to all sorts of thoughts.

"So?" You questioned with a pure smile letting your hand trail up.

"Oh."

#south park x reader #stan marsh x reader

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

Text

exhibit a (detective mongomery)

ao3 more songwriter!eddie can be found here more songwriting/poetry; mildly nsfw bc eddie is eddie

***

Jeff has a theory.

Gareth agrees with the theory, though he's less confident about it, and Ian disagrees, though he's expressed that there's a chance Jeff may be right.

The theory is that Eddie fucking Munson has a boyfriend.

And Jeff has evidence.

EXHIBIT A: THE RING

Jeff notices that one of Eddie's rings is missing one day.

Granted, it's not the most concrete of evidence, because Eddie is Eddie, so Jeff assumes that he forgot it. Dropped it between his bed and his bedside table and just couldn't be assed to fish it out or to move his furniture. Maybe he was fidgeting with it in the car and dropped it to the ground and forgot about it by the time he got to Gareth's.

So he doesn't say anything.

But the next time he sees him, he isn't wearing it again.

So maybe he dropped it in a crack in a porch and couldn't reach it.

But if that were the case, Jeff feels like Eddie would have complained about it by now. Eddie once proclaimed that bitching is one of his favorite hobbies, along with getting stoned and sucking dick (at the same time or not, which he clarified after Ian questioned it), and the last time he misplaced a ring, he wouldn't shut up about it for three days until Wayne found it in the laundry basket. But maybe Eddie is just maturing. (Hah.)

They're in Jeff's living room, bantering and fucking around, the music from Jeff's record player low so they can hear each other, and as Eddie is watching Gareth and Ian bicker like he's watching a tennis match (not that he'd ever watch a tennis match), looking back and forth and back and forth, Jeff sees him reach for his ring finger, fingers poised to twist it around the way he usually does. The ring isn't there, obviously, and Eddie glances down like he's forgotten, and then a brief smile flashes across his face for a moment before he looks up and shouts that Ian is right, and Gareth, shut the fuck up.

And Jeff wonders.

EXHIBIT B: THE BASKETBALL

Eddie and Wayne live in a new apartment in town. (New being relative. It's a little run-down, with creaky floors and squeaky doors, but it's new to them.) Eddie's room is smaller than it was in the trailer, but Wayne has his own room in the apartment now, with an actual bed instead of a pull-out sofa.

Eddie's room is practically the same. Messy and covered in posters and tapestries and cut-out photos from magazines. His desk is covered in D&D pamphlets and character sheets, messy sketches of characters that he started and forgot about, uncapped pens and markers that must be dry by now. There are clothes covering the floor, hiding the fuzzy rug, and the blankets of his bed are always cast aside, almost falling off the bed because apparently Eddie throws them aside in the morning (or afternoon, depending on the day).

Eddie is searching for the weed he was supposed to bring to Ian's, and Jeff is waiting, leaning against the doorframe, watching as he rummages through some drawers.

"I swear I have it."

"I believe you," Jeff says dryly. "There's gotta be weed in here somewhere." Eddie shoots him a look, sticking out his tongue. He keeps rambling, I thought I fucking put it in here, I don't know how I get all these drawers confused, there aren't even that many, Jesus Christ, and Jeff looks around the room. There's a new poster of Bowie on the wall near his window. Jeff eyes it. It's not really Eddie's style, but Jeff's heard Eddie talk about how hot he is.

He looks at his blankets as Eddie rummages through another drawer. His bed wasn't raised when they were in the trailer, but he has a new bedframe, and now he has boxes and bags and a pizza box and... Is that a basketball?

Jeff looks at Eddie, who has his back to him, groaning as he tosses things aside onto the floor, and he steps to the side, tilting his head to see the orange ball that's partially hidden by a striped blanket that's falling off the bed. Jeff raises an eyebrow.

Eddie Munson has never voluntarily played a sport in his life. Jeff knows it. Gareth and Ian know it. The queen of England knows it. There is no reason for there to be a basketball in his bedroom. Unless it's someone else's. Someone he hasn't mentioned to them.

"Got it!"

Eddie stands, holding up the baggie triumphantly, grinning as he turns to Jeff.

"You really to stop losing illicit substances."

"'S fine," Eddie says, swaying to turn off the light. Jeff glances at the basketball one more time before following him out of the room.

"You're gonna get in trouble one of these days."

"Nah," Eddie says easily, still grinning, and he turns to face Jeff, walking backwards and spreading his arms like a challenge. "I'm immune, baby."

Jeff rolls his eyes, fighting a smile.

"What have I said about calling me baby?"

"Oh my god, it's a general term, I'm not calling you baby, it's just--"

EXHIBIT C: THE EXCUSES

"I forgot I need to help Wayne sort out some boxes before he leaves for work," Eddie says, swinging his guitar over his back. He's still a little out of breath, his hair falling from where it's tied up, exposing the scar around his neck. He won't talk about it. They don't ask. "I'll see you guys later."

"You guys aren't done unpacking?" Gareth asks before he guzzles some water.

"You know Wayne," Eddie says. "He'd put off unpacking for five more years if I didn't volunteer to help."

He's cheerful, going around and smacking loud kisses to their cheeks. Ian grins when he gets to him. He's always liked the affection that Eddie gives out so freely.

"Have you noticed he's been doing that a lot lately?" Ian asks as Eddie's van is pulling out of Gareth's driveway. Eddie rolls his window down and flips them the bird. They do it back. He cackles.

"God, yes," Jeff says, grateful he's not the only one.

"Doing what?" Gareth asks.

"'I have to help Wayne unpack,'" Ian repeats. "'I said I'd help old man Cooper fix his A/C. Henderson needs a ride to an appointment. Little Sinclair is going to the salon and her mom can't take her.'"

Gareth stares at him.

"How can you remember that all word for word but you don't remember when my birthday is?"

"...July--"

"No."

"Fuck. I don't know, my brain's weird. Anyway, he's been doing it a lot lately."

"Yeah," Jeff says, smiling after watching the interaction. (Gareth's birthday is in June.) "I mean, it's not like it's every time we hang out, so I'm not, like, offended or anything, but it's more often than he used to."

Gareth pauses as he spins his drumsticks, holding the door open for them to go inside.

"Do you think it has to do with... everything?"

Everything is code for Eddie going missing and being framed for three murders.

"I don't know," Jeff sighs, swinging open the fridge and finding a bottle of soda before he passes it to Ian. "He seems to have actual stuff to do, like with Erica and Dustin, but if he is lying, I mean... He's gotta have a reason to, right?"

Ian cracks open the soda, leaning against the counter.

"And if it has to do with everything, then, like... I don't know. I don't wanna, like. Pry."

"Yeah," Gareth says.

Jeff agrees. Eddie's been keeping quiet about the whole thing ever since he got discharged from the hospital. He's lost his memory, doesn't remember a lot of what happened, but they've seen him get lost in space, seen him breathe so shallowly it barely looks like he's breathing at all. These episodes (Jeff doesn't know what else to call them) sometimes last a few minutes. The first one was after they played Master of Puppets together for the first time. Eddie had learned it himself on guitar, but when they played it all together in Gareth's garage, he played for about fifteen seconds before he stopped abruptly, his eyes wide and trained on some spot on the ground. It scared the shit out of all of them.

He snapped out of it after a minute, blinking and startling and looking around at them gathered around them, and he was suddenly pale and shivering and holding his side like he had a cramp from running, and when they worriedly asked what happened, he just said in a rough voice I don't really like that song. He left after Jeff forced a bottle of water into his hands.

He's covered in scars. He has a skin graft on his chest, and when they asked about it, about what the fuck is going on? he just shrugged and said, "You know how much I paid for that zombie head?" in reference to the tattoo that's mostly covered in scar tissue now.

He doesn't want to tell. So they don't ask.

"Do you guys think..." Jeff hesitates, sipping his own soda, hopping up on the counter next to where Ian is leaning. "Do you guys think he might be seeing someone?"

They blink at him.

"Why the fuck would we think he might be seeing someone?" Ian asks, almost smiling.

"He..." Jeff hesitates again, realising how dumb the ring and basketball seem. Eddie loses shit. Maybe he forgot. Lucas plays basketball, and Jeff knows he and Eddie are pretty close now. Maybe he just convinced Eddie to help him practice. "I don't know."

But Gareth is nodding, staring at the ground, frowning.

"No, I can see that."

"You can?" Ian says.

"I mean, he's probably not, but it kinda makes sense. He's been ditching more lately, he's all smiley all the time. Et cetera."

"I don't know," Ian says, grimacing, but Jeff nods.

"He's smiling so much," he says, pointing at Gareth with his bottle. "Especially, like, in the past few weeks."

"Right?"

"Maybe he's just recovering," Ian says.

Oh.

Gareth and Jeff look at each other, wincing.

"Maybe."

EXHIBIT D: THE HUMMING

Jeff leans back in his desk chair, lifting his legs up onto his desk, pulling his comic book closer to his face. He should probably get his eyes checked.

Eddie is laying upside down on Jeff's bed, his head hanging off as he draws in a notebook. (Jeff's never understood how he does it; his head hanging off the edge of the bed, holding up a notebook in front of his face, drawing without a care in the world.) It's quiet.

Jeff flips the page of his comic book, careful not to bend the pages, but as he's looking at the first panel, he hears the distinct, low rumble of Eddie's voice. He looks up, thinking for a split second that Eddie is speaking to him, but he's just humming. He does that a lot. He doesn't even notice himself doing it.

Jeff looks back at the comic book, listening, but he pauses again, looking up at the wall in front of himself as he furrows his brows, listening closer until he recognizes the song. He doesn't know the name of it, but he's pretty sure it's by Tears for Fears.

Tears for fucking fears.

Jeff looks at Eddie, who's still drawing, the notebook wavering as he looks at it, and after another minute, he moves, rolling over and shifting to lay on his stomach, setting the notebook down in front of himself. His brows are furrowed in focus, lips pouting a little bit, but he doesn't stop humming, and Jeff narrows his eyes.

He doesn't know anyone that listens to Tears for Fears. Maybe Dustin, but Eddie would probably, definitely tell him to shut it off because he has a musical superiority complex. (Jeff has no idea what Lucas listens to, and Mike probably listens to the same stuff as Eddie. Ian and Gareth both like rock and metal, and Erica probably listens to Cyndi Lauper or something.)

But here Eddie is, about a minute into a Tears for Fears song that Jeff can't even name, humming softly, happily to himself.

And Jeff wonders who the fuck Eddie is allowing to listen to, is tolerating listening to, Tears for Fears in Eddie's presence. And often enough that Eddie apparently knows the words.

It happens again the next week while they're all at Gareth's house, sitting in the kitchen and helping Gareth's mom make dinner. Jeff is peeling carrots, passing them to Eddie to chop, and Mrs Emerson's radio is playing, sitting on the windowsill. It's just on some Top 40s type station, which Eddie tolerates for Mrs Emerson because she tolerates their band practice in her garage.

The song fades out and there's a moment of quiet static, accompanied by Eddie's knife on the cutting board, the smooth sounds of the peeler, the clinking of the dishes that Gareth is putting away, the clicking of the stove turning on as Ian follows Mrs Emerson's directions. The next song starts, and Jeff passes the naked carrot to Eddie, pushing the peels to the side where he's collecting them to give to Gareth's dog.

He pauses the peeling when he hears Eddie's low hum, under his breath, and he stares at the carrot, listening before he slowly turns to look at him. He's just chopping the carrots, as easily as he always does, scooping them onto the knife and pouring them into the salad bowl next to him, humming and humming.

His voice is lower than the singer's voice, and it harmonizes nicely, but Jeff doesn't know what to think.

He glances over his shoulder across the kitchen, catching Ian's eye as he's mixing something in a bowl, also frozen and staring at Eddie.

Toto? Ian mouths at Jeff, looking more confused than he's ever looked, and Jeff shrugs, wide-eyed. Gareth leans up next to Ian, staring at Eddie's back intently before he looks at Jeff and mouths What the fuck?

Jeff shrugs again.

They don't say anything.

Eddie never notices that he's humming.

Jeff can't stop thinking about it, about what kind of person Eddie would listen to pop music for. He has a boyfriend. There's no way it can be anyone else.

EXHIBIT E: THE SONG LYRICS

Eddie is the main songwriter of the band. They all trust him with it all, and add their own bits and pieces when they play all together, like a drum solo for Gareth, and his lyrics changed a bit when he came back after everything.

His words were more intense, less literal. One lyric sings about the sky turning red, and the silhouettes of monsters. One song was called Batshit, about demon bats with steak knife tails. One sings about a girl with curly hair and a sawed-off shotgun, and another girl with vodka bottles and a lighter.

Save the world, save my life, Get your guns, I'll get my knife. Cut the shit, ignore the scythe And blow that shit to pieces

He sings about carnivorous flowers and flickering lights, about floating girls and broken bones, about blood-stained ceilings and sneakers and a bottomless lake.

Oh, it's a nightmare I'm living God, the world's flipped inside out There's spiders in my veins I feed them coffee and self-doubt

And then after a while, the vibes shift. He still sings about it all, about the fantasy, nightmarish world that comes up time and time again, but then he shows up with lyrics about a boy.

A boy. No one by name, or by description, almost just the idea of a boy rather than an actual one. When they ask who the lyrics are about, he gives them a Who knows? shrug, and Jeff's suspicions might as well be confirmed.

Some are sexual, very Eddie-esque, about lungs filled with smoke and mouths filled with cock, about the taste of sin on his tongue and hair tangled in rings. About being roughed up and cuffed up, the bite of metal around wrists, about being watched and known. Something about if they knew what we knew, they wouldn't care at all.

Others are sweeter, which just confirms Jeff's suspicions even more. Some sing about soft hair and sparkly eyes, about going stargazing by staring at his skin.

Kiss me 'til I'm flushed all red I wanna be your favorite color, baby

Eddie smiles while they go through the lyrics all together, his cheeks pink, but they still don't say anything.

EXHIBIT F: THE HICKEY

"Afternoon, fellas," Eddie says brightly, hopping into the room, dropping his bag on the ground next to where Ian is sitting and headbutting him affectionately. Ian beams. "How we doing?"

They talk as he gets sorted, finding his place on Gareth's bed between Ian and Gareth, laying on his back so his head is hanging over the edge, upside down, his hair falling. It almost touches the ground. He laughs at something Gareth says, but Jeff doesn't hear it, because from where he's sitting he has the perfect view of Eddie's neck.

Hence he has the perfect view of the purplish-red bruise above the collar of his t-shirt, and Jeff finally can't stop himself.

"Eddie."

"Hm?"

He turns his head to look at him, and the second their eyes meet, Jeff knows he knows. Eddie's eyes widen, and he slowly reaches to his shirt collar, pulling it up (down?) so it covers the bruise.

"Is there something you want to share with us?"

"...No?"

"What's going on?" Gareth asks, watching them.

"Eddie has a hickey."

"Jeff!"

"You wore a loose t-shirt, did you think we weren't gonna see it?"

Eddie just groans obnoxiously, throwing his arms up to cover his face, and Jeff grins when he sees how red he is. Ian laughs, reaching out to poke at his legs, ignoring the way Eddie is kicking at him.

"Eddie-e-e," Gareth sings. "Who is it?"

"It's no one, fuck off."

"Edmund. Edward. Eduardo."

"Oh my god."

He pushes himself to sit up, avoiding their eyes, and he sits at the edge of the bed, turning a little to make sure Jeff can see him too.

"Okay," he says, huffing. "I..."

"Who is it?" Gareth prompts. Jeff is beaming. He loves being right.

"I can't... I can't give you a name, he's not... out." Eddie's looking down at his lap.

"Okay," Gareth says, still waiting. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"...Yeah."

"Is he the reason you listen to Toto and shit now?" Jeff says, and Eddie looks up at him, his hair flying.

"I don't listen to Toto and shit," he says defensively. "He listens to Toto and shit and I allow it because I love him--"

Ian and Gareth let out identical shouts, and Jeff's eyes and grin widen. Eddie turns redder, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and covering his face.

"You love him?" Gareth says loudly, reaching out to rustle his hair. "Love?"

"Shut up," Eddie groans, but he's starting to smile under his hands as they all laugh.

"Why?" Ian asks.

"Why do I love him?"

"Yeah."

Eddie sighs heavily, rolling over the edge of the bed and falling to the ground with a heavy thud that makes them laugh again. He lies on his back, laying starfished on the ground and looking at the ceiling, eyes wide and dreamy.

"He's just... He's so great. He's beautiful. Fucking gorgeous. And funny as hell, even though he doesn't even try to be. And he's... kind. Like really, genuinely kind, and-- and selfless. He loves his friends, he'd do anything for them." He pauses, his smile faltering for a moment, tilting his head. "He makes me feel safe."

They're all quiet. Eddie hasn't gushed about any of his crushes in ages, not since Steve Harrington graduated. (And, God, wasn't that a time. Eddie was bitter about it, about how much he liked him, but every time someone brought him up, Eddie would turn into a blushing, smiling mess. Embarrassing.)

"Was he involved in everything?" Ian asks softly, and Eddie swallows, blinking at the ceiling, his face going a little blank. That happens every time it comes up. Everything. He'll zone out or look distant, and his voice will become a little empty in a way that makes Jeff feel sick.

"Yeah," Eddie says, blinking again. He takes a deep breath, and he looks like he's trying to stay there, in his body. "He's... He's the reason I'm alive."

They're quiet.

"Shit," Gareth says succinctly.

"Yeah."

"He's good to you?" Jeff asks.

Eddie sighs, smiling again.

"He's so good to me. He listens to me talk nonstop about D&D and shit even though he doesn't know anything about it, and he asks me questions, and he shows me stuff that he likes and he always looks so excited that I just... Like. Can't help but like it too."

"Is the basketball his?"

Eddie lifts his head, squinting at him.

"You saw that?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, it's his."

"Did you give him your ring?"

"Jesus, are you a fucking detective?"

Jeff grins. Eddie lays his head back down.

"Yeah, I gave it to him."

"Wait," Gareth says, leaning over the edge of the bed, looking at Eddie. "I didn't see the hickey, lemme see."

"Absolutely not."

"Lemme see-e-e..."

----------------------------------------------------------

It's Friday night at the Hideout. They've been getting bigger crowds since Eddie's charges were dropped, metalheads and weirdos coming from across the state to see Eddie Munson live on stage, with his wild hair and scarred neck.

They're nearing the end of their setlist, pausing to drink water, grinning and laughing across the stage. Eddie is having a blast. He hasn't stopped beaming, even as he sings about hell and a house on fire. Jeff wonders if his face is sore from smiling.

The next song is called Midas. Jeff assumes it's about Eddie's boyfriend. It's heavy, bold and screamy. It makes Eddie's voice rough, but he doesn't seem to care at all.

Would you let me kneel at your feet and press my lips to your ring? Would it bring you a spark of joy? Will your smile make the clouds sing?

Jeff looks into the crowd, squinting in the blinding fluorescent lights, and he feels fucking alive here, like the music is coursing through his veins, like every shout from the crowd is rejuvenating him. His eyes scan the front row, looking at the girls with dark makeup and the boys will long hair, at the leather jackets and denim vests and pins that flash under the lights and-- Is that Steve fucking Harrington?

Jeff almost falters, but he looks away from the boy, keeps playing, pretends he isn't there, but he can't help but look back by the next verse, his propped up as he plays. It sure looks like Harrington, complete with the floppy hair, but there's no way Steve Harrington is in the front row of a metal show, wearing a battle vest and smiling. The lights are flashing, running over the crowd like water, and Jeff can't see clearly, and it can't be.

My man with his holy touch Won't you turn my heart to gold? Press your hands into my chest My heart is yours to hold

Eddie's voice is breaking, and Jeff glances at him, curious if he's seen the Steve look-alike in the front row, the Steve look-alike that seems to be beaming up at him, wide-eyed, but Eddie's eyes are squeezed shut as he sings and strums his guitar.

Take my hand baby, make me yours My beautiful king Midas They'll tell us gold's a sin, but They can't stop what's inside us

Jeff's ears are ringing when it's all over, when they get off the stage to talk with some people. (It feels weird to call them fans. They aren't fans, Corroded Coffin isn't big enough to have fans.) Some people that work at the Hideout are moving the equipment, taking the drums and guitars and amps, and Jeff is sitting at the edge of the stage, talking with a girl that sat toward the back of the bar. She's holding a beer bottle, and she has a beautiful smile, but even as she talks to him, he can't help but realise that Eddie is nowhere in sight.

So he excuses himself politely, slipping past her and finding his way backstage, looking around until he opens a door, and Eddie has his back to the wall, holding a boy against himself. A boy with bare, scar-covered arms, wearing a denim vest, with floppy brown hair that's twisted around Eddie's fingers as Eddie groans loudly because the boy is slipping a leg between Eddie's, and it's nearly filthy, the sounds they're making, because they're licking into each other's mouths, groaning and whining and murmuring and Jeff can't look away.

"Fuck, Stevie," Eddie chokes as the boy buries his face in Eddie's neck, and--

"Oh my god."

Eddie and Steve part with startled shouts, detaching and stumbling as they both flush red and look at Jeff with wide eyes.

"Jeff, why?" Eddie says loudly, breathing hard.

"Uh." He blinks. "You're the one making out in a public place."

"Oh, Jesus." Eddie bends over, taking a deep breath, groaning. Steve is staring at Jeff, wide-eyed and terrified, and Jeff takes a moment to take him in. He's wearing eyeliner, smudged and dark around his eyes (sparkly eyes), and his hair is touselled, longer than it was in high school. He's wearing a black shirt under the battle best, and oh, that's Eddie's vest. His jeans are light blue and fitted, and his hands are shaking, and he has the same scar around his neck that Eddie has. Jeff's body is consumed with curiosity and confusion, but it doesn't matter, because Steve is shaking, and Eddie is taking his hand, squeezing.

"Jeff, can you keep your mouth shut about this?" Eddie asks, his eyes imploring, begging, and Jeff nods.

"I saw nothing," he says. "I don't even know where I am, I was just trying to find the bathroom."

Steve cracks a smile, and he's totally Eddie's type.

"Oh," Jeff says, blinking. "King Midas."

Steve's cheeks flush with color again, and Jeff says, "Oh, right, sorry," before he turns on his heal and walks out.

"Where'd you go?" Ian asks when he gets out to Eddie's van.

"Bathroom."

"Where's Eddie?"

"No idea, I couldn't find him. Dumbass probably got lost."

He's always been good at lying.

Eddie comes out after another ten minutes, looking a little touseled but no more so than he does after most gigs. He apologizes, and jokes that he got lost, and Gareth and Ian laugh. Eddie hops in the front seat, asks if they want to go to his place for drinks, and they all say yes. As they're headed to his apartment, crossing the parking lot, Eddie lingers back and speaks quietly to Jeff.

"He's, uhm. Gonna meet us at my place."

"I thought you guys were keeping this quiet."

"We are, mostly, he just... His best friend knows about us. And you know--"

"Sorry about that, by the way."

"No, it's..." Eddie shakes his head. "Not your fault, we were fully making out in a public place, we just, uhm."

"Were worked up," Jeff finished for him, and in the light of the streetlights above them, Eddie flushes red.

"...Yeah."

Jeff snickers and pokes at him.

"So he wants to... meet the guys?"

"Yeah. I talk about you a lot, so he said he trusts you guys if I do, and I do, so."

Jeff nods, smiling.

"He's pretty cool."

"He's a prep, Jeff, he's adorable."

"I cannot believe your type is normies."

"Shut up."

When Steve shows up, he lets himself in. He has a key.

"Hi."

Ian and Gareth both look up at him from where they're sitting on the sofa, glancing him up and down, recognizing him, questioning him, wondering.

"Hi?"

"So, uhm..." Eddie goes to stand next to Steve, his eyes shining at him like he's asking something silently, and Steve nods a little bit, taking a breath. "Ian, Gareth, Jeff. Steve." He gestures to all of them, and Steve waves awkwardly. Jeff sees Eddie's ring on his finger.

"Hi," Ian and Gareth say again. Jeff lifts his chin up at him, smiling when their eyes meet.

"Uh." Eddie pauses, gesturing to Steve again. "...Boyfriend."

Ian and Gareth both blink, and Jeff grins, watching the gears turn in their head.

"Oh," Ian says. "Cool."

Gareth stares for a second before,

"I cannot believe you got with your high school crush after high school."

Steve beams.

He ends up going to Eddie's room and coming back in Eddie's clothes, in a sweater and some sweatpants, and they sit on the floor together as the guys ask them questions. They skirt their way around some of them, without even glancing at each other to figure out what the other will say, It's like they're perfectly in tune with each other. Eddie plays with Steve's fingers while they all talk.

Jeff can tell that Ian and Gareth are also surprised but are keeping it under wraps. Surprised that King Steve is the boy Eddie was talking about when he described his boyfriend's kindness, selflessness, bravery, when he said He makes me feel safe, but even now it's obvious that it's true. Eddie leans up against him and holds his arm, gazes at him and kisses his shoulder for no reason. He's in love.

Jeff tells Eddie later all the clues he gave without meaning, and he realises the Bowie poster was a clue after hearing Steve humming Heroes. Oh well. He was still right.

#i need to work on my sleep schedule its almost seven am lmao #anyway #this was fun #jeff <333 #corroded coffin #corroded coffin boys #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steddie #steddie fanfic

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