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#look i get there’s some past celebrities people kind of go “yeah they probably did tho we’ll never really know”
spraklecat · 9 months
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“I’m calling out this person for making tickle art of real celebrities”
And you play armchair psychologist and insist they have autism when there’s like 3 different cultural factors complicating that and zero sign of that person having sensory issues.
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thecreelhouse · 2 months
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crystal clear
Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
WC: 14k (i am so sorry)
Summary: What started as friends “helping” one another out, turns into something much more than either of you anticipated. Secrets are revealed, mistakes are made, and confessions are confessed.
This is the 3rd and final part of this lil unnamed roommate trilogy! You can find part one and part two here!
CW/Tags: language, smut, PiV sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), cum play, super brief anal play, free use, praise kink, humiliation kink, switch!steve & switch!reader, cockwarming, choking, jealousy, angst. Lots. Of. Angst., hurt/comfort everywhere, internalized biphobia, weed mention, happy ending i promise!!
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A/N: this took way longer to write than I expected, and apologies for the late post, I had too many technical difficulties 😭 major thanks to @stevenose for hyping this up and helping me on some parts<3 this one’s long as hell, and there’s a LOT going on, but I hope y’all that enjoyed the first two like this one as well. thank you for the support on the others!! <3 title is from a hayley williams’ song by the same name lol.
“Is it weird yet?”
The first time either of you asked the question in the backs of both of your minds, Steve had you bent over the bathroom sink, pulling your hair, forcing you to watch as he railed into you relentlessly.
You can’t remember who asked first, but neither of you answered it. Not out loud, at least. You were too busy moaning Steve’s name to worry about the question.
“Isn’t this kinda weird?”
The question came from you, after Steve came home from a failed date, a failure you silently celebrated. He was in a funk, not expecting anything, but you offered, so how could he say no?
Because turning down the offer of you riding him until he cried—his request, comfortably carried out by you enjoying the mini power trip over your roommate, seemed foolish. You did your best to hide how smug you felt that Steve’s date didn’t work out, so when you offered to cheer him up, and he begged on his knees to touch you, you’d be insane to turn down the opportunity.
“People do this? But that’s… weird, isn’t it?”
 “So… what if you’re not in the mood? ‘Cause I don’t wanna initiate anything when you’re not feeling it. Like, I get that’s the whole point, but I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable—”
You’re laying on Steve’s bed, the morning after fucking around when you got home from the bar. It didn’t last long, with the two of you too drunk, too tired, getting handsy but being clumsy messes while laughing and falling over one another multiple times.
Instead, you fell asleep in his arms, and you wanted to kick yourself for it.
You’ve been trying to distance your feelings from whatever kind of roommates-with-benefits dynamic had appeared between the two of you, but fuck it wasn’t easy.
“What if I wear something specific when I’m cool with it?” You suggest, tugging on the scrunchie on your wrist. “If I have this on my wrist, you’re free to do whatever.”
Steve was leaning against his dresser, arms crossed as his eyes were glued to your figure, barely covered by an old shirt of his while it clung to the softest parts of you.
He wishes you didn’t look so goddamn cute in his clothes.
“Uh— yeah. Yeah, that works, I guess— ” Steve pauses to overthink. Again. “Are you sure this isn’t too weird?”
“Babe,” It slips out, making you stall as you sit up, clearing your throat to brush past it. “If I thought it was too weird, would I be the one to suggest this?”
Steve blushes, in the way where it’s so much red across his face, it blooms to the tips of his ears. He can feel it, brushing his hair over his ears, ignoring the look you give him.
“Right… Uh, so what should I do? Like, to show you I’m cool with it?” Steve’s puzzled on how this even works, or who would find this hot to begin with. Yet with each confession of what turns you on, the quicker it is for him to get harder with every, and probably any fantasy.
“You want a scrunchie too?” Steve rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t dim the red hue across his face. You giggle at how flustered he is while pulling a thin, black hairband from your other wrist, holding it out. “Would this work?”
Hesitantly, Steve takes the hairband before slipping it over his hand. “Okay, but… What if someone says something?”
You snort, “First of all, it’s just an elastic band. People won’t know. And if anyone’s inspecting your wrists that closely, they’re just fucking weird.” He slips it onto the other wrist, the one his watch is always on, hoping it blends in better. “Steve, now I can’t see it.”
He rolls it over his hand before stretching it between his fingers, playfully shooting it back your way. “Fuck it, I won’t use anything.”
“You sure? That’s— what if I did something when you’re not in the mood?”
“I’ll tell you.”
“Immediately?”
“Immediately. I swear.”
You’ve appreciated how easy it’s been to talk about whatever either of you want, or don’t want. This roommates-with-benefits thing might’ve been awkward, still is if you’re being honest, but talking about boundaries from the start with Steve gave one less thing for the two of you to worry about. 
He rubs his jaw, lost in thought. “What’s it called again?”
“Free use, but If you’re not comfortable, or just want it to be one sided, don’t be afraid to tell me.” 
“N- no! ” Steve shouts quickly, immediately embarrassed by how desperate he sounds. “I mean… what’s off limits for you?”
You smirk, twirling the scrunchie between your fingers. “Nothin’. You?”
Steve exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Uh… I wanna say nothing, but… if something happens that I’m not cool with, or you’re not cool with, we can stop, right?”
“Yeah, Stevie. We’re not doing this if either of us aren’t into it. If I do something to you that you don’t like, tell me, okay? It’s just like fucking around any other time, but a lil’ more… exciting.”
With a scoff, he sits next to you on the bed, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were bored when we fuck. You never sound like you’re bored when you’re shouting my name.”
You elbow his side, ignoring the way your stomach flips, “Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How’d you even find out this was a thing?” His curiosity’s going to kill him someday, he just knows it, but he can’t stop himself from asking. “I doubt those romance novels get that filthy.”
“Um…” You retreat into yourself, growing shy. “I might have, like, a teensy tiny stash of some… movies… and stuff.”
Steve’s face lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
“You? Since when?!” He’s smirking while regret sets in; should’ve kept that one to yourself.  “Wait. Why haven’t I seen you in the back at work?”
Laughing, you admit, “Steve, why the hell would I go where you work to rent porn? I’m not that much of an idiot.”
“Well— I- I wouldn’t make fun of you, y’know.”
Again, you bark out a laugh, “Bullshit, you totally would, especially if you saw wh—” You freeze eyes darting away as your laughter dies in your throat. Steve’s lit up like a fucking city skyline now.
Why, oh why did you have to be cursed with such a big mouth?
“Say it,” He taunts, a smirk growing on his face. “Tell me.”
“Harrington, I’m not telling you a damn thing.”
Steve nods a few times, like he understands, then shoots a mischievous look. “Where’s the tapes?”
“That’s none of your business!”
“Neither was your vibrator dying, but look, it brought us to some good things, right?”
“Th- that’s different, Steve.” You can feel your face heating up, your skin prickling as he puts you on the spot, hand resting on your thigh as he studies your expression.
Leaning in, his voice drops low as he asks, “How different are we talkin’?” His palm is warm, long fingers already close to your heat without even trying.
“Steve…” The warning tone in your voice means nothing to him right now; your gaze follows the direction his hand heads in, inching closer to where you want him most. Where you always want him. Where you always need him.
You expect him to stop, but his fingers ghost over your cunt, covered by the sweet, heart-patterned fabric of your panties— his favorite pair. You shiver as he adds some pressure, slowly rubbing along your sensitive core.
“What, did talking about being used like a slut make you wet already?” Steve taunts, chuckling as you roll your hips forward, trying to chase the feeling he’s barely giving you. “Tell me where the tapes are, and I’ll give you what you want.”
You shake your head, biting your lip to hold back any noises that might give him satisfaction and an ego boost. He mocks you with a pout and a whine.
“Well, guess I’ll have to find ‘em myself,” Before you can register what Steve says, he’s out the door and rushing to your room, while you’re left to shake yourself out of the fog of lust he left you in.
“H- hey! Don’t you fucking dare!”
When you make it to your room, Steve’s on his hands and knees, snooping under your bed. “Not there…”
“Steve, please, ju- just drop it.”
“Why?” He’s having way too much fun teasing you like this, but you’re embarrassed, wishing you could take your confession back. He’s casually opening drawers in your dresser, peeking inside each one with no success. “You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want me to see.”
 “I— there’s some stuff I wanna keep to myself, I didn’t mean to say anything.” You’re digging your nails into your palms as they roll into clenched fists.
“Thought you liked being humiliated?” When Steve brings it up, it’s part of the teasing, until he looks up to see your uncomfortable body language. He steps away from the drawer he was digging through before making his way to you.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” He comes over to you, cautious as he watches the way your fingers curl into your palms and tense into fists, while you look at the floor, trying not to cry. “I promise I didn’t see anything. And I- I’m sorry for invading your space.”
Steve looks ashamed, and you feel bad. He didn’t know your tears were serious, but you’re already consumed by your own emotions.
You finally look at him, bottom lip curled into a wobbling pout, eyes glassy, “Can I be alone for a bit?”
“You- Yeah, f’course,” Steve automatically wants to comfort you, but he fights it off, just like the time you came home after your awful day, giving you the space you need. “I’ll be…y’know… yeah.”
Steve gently shuts the door behind him, leaving you to cry in the comfort of your own solitude.
···························
A few hours pass, with Steve spending most of it curled up on the couch, trying to mindlessly watch a movie, but he can’t get his mind off of you. He feels horrible that he didn’t catch onto your emotions earlier. He was hoping you’d come out by now, but you’ve been holed up in your room since you asked him to leave.
In the few moments he wasn’t consumed by his guilt, Steve’s thoughts would be spinning, trying to figure out what was on those tapes that would make you so upset if he saw them. Maybe you were just into kink. He wouldn’t judge you for that, everyone’s got their own… interests. 
What if they contained something violent, or dark? Again, he wouldn’t judge you, but he’d be concerned for you and your safety. Then again, if it’s between two consenting adults, it’s none of his business.
Still doesn’t stop him from wishing it was his business.
All this time, up until the vibrator incident, Steve had every right to believe you were such a sweet, innocent person. Now, he’s not so sure, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Steve’s so wrapped up in his own spiraling thoughts, he doesn’t hear you open the door, or walk into the room. Instead, he notices you when you drop a cardboard box on the floor near him, startling him out of his layered overthinking.
“Holy fu— ” He sits up and rubs his eyes before locking his view with yours, heart sinking over how tear stained your face is. How swollen your eyes are. Had you been crying this whole time? “… Hi. What’s— are you— ” Steve’s unsure what to ask first: “what’s in there?” or “are you okay?”
You make it a point to sit on the floor, far from Steve. Crossing your legs underneath you, you’re beginning to pick at your nails nervously, unable to look at him.
“That’s what you were looking for earlier,” You rasp, fighting off another wave of tears. 
Steve’s tempted to rip the box open immediately, but he restrains himself. “Honey, if you don’t want me to see, it’s okay. I had no right to dig around earlier, even if I was just joking. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I- I’m so sorry I did. And if it makes you feel better to keep this to yourself, we can forget about all of this. I’ll never bring it up ever again.”
His sweet, apologetic rambling just makes this heavier for you to bear. You lean into your hands, face buried in your palms as you groan, frustrated. “Steve, sometimes I wish you were a dick, because it’d make shit like this so much easier.”
“What are you talking about?”
“At this point it’s just… look, it’s probably for the best you know about this, since we’re fucking around.” You murmur into your hands. “Let me know when you’re disgusted and want me to move out.”
Steve’s brows furrow, really concerned now. “I’d never… I don’t want you to leave. Why would you think that?” 
You sit up but look away from him, giving a weak gesture towards the box. “You’ll see.”
Again, Steve hesitates, but you look at the box as you still avoid his gaze, nodding in reassurance. “This isn’t a trick, or anything. I’m letting you— I’m showing you what you should know.”
So, carefully, he opens the box’s flaps one by one before peering inside; Steve slides off the couch and to the floor next to the box, pulling out a tape.
It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before; some tacky porno, with sleazy cover art and a corny title. It’s got your standard, generic shot of a man fucking a woman from behind, with her hands bound in front of her and a blindfold over her eyes. 
“This…” He stops himself before finishing with ‘is nothing’, because maybe it’s still a big deal to you. “It’s not worth getting yourself upset over. Why’d you think I’d hate you for this?”
You shake your head. “That’s not the one I’m worried about. I didn’t take anything out, figured I might as well show you everything. Keep going.”
Steve sets the tape on the coffee table before reaching into the box again, pulling out another tape. Similar design layout, but the cover photo is of a woman sitting back, pulling her legs up and back with her, while a man slips a plug into her ass. Steve flips the case over, finding the same couple, positions switched while the woman rims the man.
Steve chokes down a moan, thrown off that you’d be into this, and yet, it’s still not shocking enough to him to warrant kicking you out.
“Y’know this isn’t that bad either, right?”
“Yeah, that’s not the one I’m— you’ll know it when you see it.” You murmur, looking over at Steve, clearing his throat as he adjusts himself on the floor, playing it off like he’s finding a comfy position to sit in. You wish you could tease him over this, but you hold off, knowing he’s going to hate you any minute.
Steve continues plucking tapes out of the box, examining each one, still unsure what would have you so distraught if he were to find out.
Bondage? No big deal. Choking? He kind of figured out you liked that the first time the two of you fucked. It’s common. Free use? You just broke that down for him, so it can’t be what has you upset.
One of the tapes has a few kinks sprinkled throughout; gangbangs, exhibitionism/voyeurism, orgasm denial, femdom—
“Jesus, this one’s got everything, huh?” Steve tries to break the tension, but you don’t laugh. “This… this was the one, right?”
You huff out a mirthless laugh, pulling your knees to your chest before resting your head on them. “I fucking wish, Steve.”
He can’t stand how hard this is hitting you right now. “I don’t need to know, not if it’s going to hurt you. Seriously, it’s your business, whatever it is, and that’s okay. We all have our secrets, right?”
“Jesus fucking christ, Steve.” You scoot over to him and the box, digging to find the one you’re worried about.
“Hey, wait— ” He holds your arms softly, looking into your cry-worn eyes, only making your bottom lip quiver again. “Seriously, you don’t… whatever you’re hiding isn’t for me to know, clearly. And I’m not going to take something that personal to use as leverage to kick you out— why would you even think that? I love living with you. No weird kink is gonna change that.”
The last part almost makes you laugh. Almost.
You wish the way he said he loves living with you didn’t make your stomach flip, either. Any other conversation, that'd be one of the sweetest things he’s ever told you, but you know that’s going to change once he’s too disgusted with you.
When Steve stopped you, your hands had already grabbed the tape. You pull it out, tossing it on the table before pushing yourself back, away from him as you anticipate the worst.
He’s quiet for a bit as you watch his eyes fall on the cover, taking in every detail, flipping it over to read whatever the corny summary says. He looks back at you and just shrugs.
Steve just fucking shrugs.
“Threesomes are… not a big deal. Like, at all.” He doesn’t say this to belittle you or your feelings, more to assure you that there’s worse to worry about than liking porn about threesomes.
You start crying again, silently, as you hug your knees to your chest again. “God, Steve, please don’t make me spell it out.”
As his brows furrow while looking over the tape again, he gives another shrug. “I feel stupid— ”
“You’re not stupid, I promise. I’m just scared to say it out loud to you.”
“Okay, two girls, one guy, having consensual sex together. I genuinely don’t g— ” It hits him, and he feels a little sick, not from your silent confession, not from the topic itself, but the fact he didn’t get it sooner. He hates how he dragged this out, only making you more upset. “... Oh.”
You’re not straight. You clearly still like men, but attraction doesn’t stop there for you. He glances down into the box, finding another tape, one of just two women together. It looks like the one peeking out under that is similar, too.
“Yeah. Yep, okay, there it is.” You push off the floor to your feet, sniffling. “Well, it was cool being friends and… whatever the fuck, but I’ll pack and get myself out as soon as I can.”
Steve scrambles to get up, following you down the hall as you head towards your room, beating you to the doorway. He stops in the frame, blocking you from retreating to the bedroom.
“We’re talking about this. You can’t just… you can’t just drop that and expect me to brush it off, or be disgusted with you. Neither are happening.” Steve’s tone is firm, but everything he says is with care. Your eyes well up with inevitable tears. “Hey, honey, look at me.”
You try pushing past him, but he refuses to let you in. “Stevie, p- please— ”
“No, enough with the hiding. I know this is scary to talk about, but please, don’t shut me out.” He moves into your room, gently pulling you in with him to sit on your bed. “Can I be cheesy and thank you for sharing something so personal? That’s not easy for anyone, but you still did. Even if you thought you had to, that took guts.”
You reach for a pillow to cry into, and Steve doesn’t stop you, just lightly hangs his arm across your shoulders. You lean into him instantly, hugging the pillow for a moment before abandoning it, wrapping your arms around him instead.
“I thought you’d hate me,” Your voice is so small and shattered; it kills Steve that your fear has been weighing so heavy on your mind and heart. “That’s why I was so scared for you to find the box.”
“Nothing could ever make me hate you, angel. I’m sorry I caused so much stress for you.” He hugs you tighter, wishing he could take back these last few hours.
“It’s not like you knew. I’m not mad at you, Steve. I should’ve told you sooner.”
That shouldn’t make Steve huff out a laugh, but it does. The noise he makes turns into a silent, shoulder shaking laugh as he holds you. You’re so confused.
“Steve, what the fuck? You just told me— th- this- none of this is funny.”
He tries to control his laughter, and he does, but only for a moment. A quick pause to kiss your forehead. You push him back, reading his expression, still bewildered.
”I’m sorry, I— ” He runs a hand through his hair as he stifles his laughter, more successful this time. “— lemme grab something quick, okay?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer, just gets up and rushes to his room, snickering a few times to himself. You’re left baffled.
What the fuck just happened? And what the hell is so funny?
There’s sounds of some movement floating out of Steve’s room, soft grumbles of “where the hell did I put that?” and “jesus this is heavy”, making you smile, ever so slightly. He’s only gone for a moment before he returns with an old milk crate, carrying VHS tapes and magazines, it looks like.
Steve sets it on the bed next to you. “This… this is funny.”
Your brows furrow, still trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about.
“You can look, y’know.”
Most of the content is tacky porn, just like yours, mostly straight couples—
Wait.
You’re about to grab a tape, one similar to the film you showed Steve; another threesome porno, but this one has two men, one woman. It doesn’t take you more than a second to get it.
You snap your head up to look at him, holding the tape up, lost for words. “Are you— shut up. You’re joking.”
Steve leans back against your headboard, hands behind his head, almost appearing smug, but he just finds the coincidence really fucking funny. Sure enough, he starts laughing again. It’s not cruel, nor does it have a sharp edge. It’s just his usual warm, sweet laugh.
“I’d never joke about this. I swear.” His smile is like sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds on a stormy day, making you feel comfortable, happy, even. You’re not alone in this, you don’t have to be. Feelings aside, Steve proves time and time again how thoughtful and kindhearted he is as a friend; a completely different person from who he tried so hard to be back in high school.
“You didn’t have to tell me— n- not that I’m upset you did, just hope I didn’t pressure you to say something by being such a crybaby.”
“No, no way. When you said you should’ve told me sooner, I figured well, shit, I might as well come out to you, too.” Steve admits, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was scared you’d hate me.”
Your heart sinks; why does coming out have to be such a nerve-wracking event? Sometimes even dangerous if you confide in the wrong person. You’re grateful that’s far from the case here.
“I could never hate you, Steve. Never ever.” Though sincere, your attention falls back on the crate, eyes dancing over all of the tapes and magazines when a certain photo sticks out like a sore thumb.
He notices the way you pause, eyes falling on the familiar white border of a Polaroid, peeking out among the mess of filth. He lunges to grab it, but you beat him to it. Your jaw drops with a gasp at the lewd image.
“Steve, this is— ” He reaches out to grab it, but you push back, stumbling as you stand before rushing across the room, Polaroid in your hands. You stare at the photo in awe.
Striding across the room, Steve makes his way to you, about to grab the photo from your grip, “Give it back— ” You hide it behind your back while you’re against the wall, tucked in the corner with a smirk.
“Fuck no, this is karma for making me cry,” You giggle, causing relief to wash over Steve. He’s not even mad about this. He’s just happy to hear you laughing after today. You spin around, head ducked against the wall, studying the photo. “You’re so pretty on your knees, Stevie.”
Steve ignores how your comment makes his stomach flip, sneaking his hands around you to snatch the photo back. Eyes rolling, he jokingly grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, you had your fun.” You twirl around, attempting to grab it back, but he effortlessly holds it high above your head. He tries playing off the blush that rises up his neck and to his cheeks over your comment.
You can’t help thinking, How’d you even fit that into your mouth?
Steve chokes on air, eyes wide, “W- what?”
Apparently, you think out loud now.
“M’sorry,” You whisper, cringing at yourself. Steve just shakes his head as he clears his throat between laughs. He ends up sitting at the edge of your bed, tugging you closer to him, hands in yours.
Glancing up, he locks eyes with you while softly asking, “Are you disgusted by me?”
You stare at Steve, unsure if he’s joking or serious. “What? Because you’re not straight? No way, why would you even ask— ”
He holds his arms out with a lazy shrug. “There ya’ go, there’s my answer to you, too.” It takes a minute for you to understand what he means.
Why does he always have to be a smug little shit when he’s right?
“Okay, wait. Why the fuck were either of us worried? We’re both still friends with Robin, even after she came out.” You and Steve lock eyes before bursting out into laughter. 
“It- it’s different when it’s just a friend!”
“Thought we were just friends.” Steve forces a teasing tone to his words, but maybe you’d answer differently this time.
“Well, yeah, but— it’s different since we’re fucking.”
So much for that.
It’s silent for a beat before Steve mutters, “We’re both morons.”
You smirk, “Now, that picture on the other hand, disgusts me,” Steve’s smile falters, your words making him nervous. “Because it looks like you’re totally better at deepthroating than I am.”
His jaw drops, face flushing red. “Okay, listen—” 
“That’s a compliment, I promise!” 
“Uh-huh, sure.”
Steve plucks the scrunchie on your wrist back, letting go to softly snap against your skin. “This still okay?” Your breath hitches as you nod, feeling a hand slide to the small of your back, bringing you even closer to him. 
“You- you don’t have to ask, that’s the whole point,” You rasp, trying to suppress the breathy, light groan threatening to break. 
“Oh, I know,” Steve gets up, smirking down at you over how flustered you look. “Just wanted to make sure.” He slides past you to reach for the crate of filth before leaving the room.
Resisting the urge to let out a disappointed groan, you mutter under your breath, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I’m not,” Steve quips as he walks by your room. Now you groan dramatically, and he just laughs while making his way down the hall.
Two can play that game.
You find Steve in the kitchen, looking around in a drawer, until you come up behind him and slam it shut. Startled, he jumps, and you take the opportunity to flip him around to face you, hands grabbing his hips before pinning him to the counter.
“Whoa— ” Steve’s eyes are wide at the abrupt maneuver, “—what are y- you- oh, shit.”
In the blur of manhandling him, Steve didn’t realize his pants are already around his ankles, not until you begin stroking him slowly. He grips the edge of the counter as a shuddered breath slips out, watching you from under hooded eyes. 
You spit onto his length, coating his skin for a smoother glide, one that makes his hips buck roughly, challenging the grip you still have on one of them. When he settles down, you lick slowly along the underside of his cock, eyes locked on his as your tongue makes its way to the base, then down to his balls. 
As you begin lapping and sucking, Steve’s head falls back against the cabinet, a classic move you usually make; halfway through one of the prettiest moans he’s made yet , he grumbles an “Ow, what the fuck?”
Naturally, you laugh, but with him in your mouth, the sensation of your muffled sound replaces his ruined moan with another. “Fuck, fuck— honey, I- god, I need you.”
His words bring you back to his shaft, one hand toying with his balls, while another reaches around to squeeze his ass, all while you take him into your mouth fully. “H- ohmyfuckinggod,” Steve’s face contorts into an expression at the crossroads of being pained and absolutely blissed out.
While you bob up and down on his cock, making him rasp out an airy cry when he hits the back of your throat, your hand on his backside inches towards his taut, sensitive hole. 
He shivers, overstimulated by all three of your actions, “H- hey, angel, you… fuck… y’don’t gotta do th—” His words die on his lips, replaced by a throaty groan as your finger gently circles the tight ring; you moan around him, and he’s a goner, spilling into your throat without much warning.
You were going to leave him with a ruined orgasm, but another idea pops into your head.
“Fuck, fuck m’so sorry,” He’s babbling apologies as his hands fly to your head, holding you down onto his cock, still using your mouth as a personal cum dump. His chest heaves as his high winds down, hands letting up on your head, too.
Back on your feet, you kiss him roughly, but as he allows you in, you’re swapping spit with cum; surprised, he whines into your mouth as he pulls you against him, kissing back with a desperate, pathetic fervor. His fingers dig into your hips, tongue gliding along yours while he tastes himself. As you break the kiss, you murmur against his lips, glistening with the lewd slick, “Swallow.”
With a wicked smile, you step back and watch as he follows your command, adam’s apple bobbing before his mouth falls open with heavy pants.
You stretch up to kiss his cheek, whispering, “Good boy,” before turning on heel, leaving the room quiet, and a breathless Steve who feels filthy.
···························
The next day, you’re up early to catch up on some priorities, including some chores. You’ve got your headphones on while vacuuming, bopping around and (poorly) singing along to I Wanna Dance With Somebody while sweeping the hallway. Both the music and high pitched, droning suction of the vacuum block out any sound, especially Steve sneaking up behind you.
In one swift motion, he pulls your shorts down and pushes into you immediately. The surprise stretch makes you cry out in a little bit of agony, and a whole lotta’ bliss. You’ve got one hand on the nearest wall, while the other keeps you balanced on the vacuum handle as he lifts your leg to go deeper.
Steve rips your headphones off, “Are you always this fucking wet?”
You can’t answer, not with words, not when every and any thought has been fucked out of your head already. All you can do is whimper as your eyes roll back further with each rough slam into you.
The harder he thrusts, the closer you move to the wall, until you’re completely shoved against it. One hand wraps around your hip, the other tangles into your hair to pull you out and bend you over even more. All that holds you up is the wall against your chest, shoulders, and head, along with his grip, departing from their original spots to tug your arms behind your back and restrain them.
“Stevie…” 
“This what y’wanted? With your gross, little fantasy?”
You shake your head— not the easiest when you’re shoved against the wall— pouting, and Steve immediately slows down, almost completely. “What’s wrong?”
“More,” is all you can rasp out.
“More… what?” Ever so slowly, he begins to move again. It’s still not enough.
“H- harder,” You murmur, and Steve mockingly hums in understanding, shoving himself to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you. 
“Was that it?” He’s asking but he knows the answer.
“Faster,” Your needy little whine is just what he wanted to hear.
His pace picks up, unforgiving while railing into you, “That’s my girl.” 
It doesn’t take much longer for Steve to climax, leaving you dripping, without release as he pulls out, satisfied. He swipes two fingers between your folds before they slip inside you, pushing his cum back into your entrance, laughing cruelly at the way you clench around him and groan tiredly. 
Steve pulls his fingers out and brings them to your face, tapping your lips with the sticky, pearly slick covered fingers. “Open.” You obey, and gag as he shoves his fingers back farther. They slip back out, and he squeezes your face, mocking you from the night before, “Good girl.”
As he retreats to his room, you’re left alone, still an aroused mess, barely holding yourself up against the wall while trying to catch your breath.
···························
In the last few weeks, you’ve grown more comfortable with less clothing around Steve at home. He’s not complaining, especially later that night, when Steve watches you pass his room with the infamous vibrator in hand. Your outfit of a comfy bralette and shorts earns a double take from him.
“Hey, where ya’ goin’ with that?” He smirks at the bothered look on your face, probably still wound up from being used like a toy earlier, abandoned without your own climax.
“Shut up, Steve.” You grumble, but still stop in his doorway, flicking the switch on the wand on and off. Nothing happens, and you pout. “I think it died.”
“So… put new batteries in?”
“No, it’s like, dead dead. This was the third round of new batteries I put in, and still, nothin’.” You sigh with a shrug, “Eh, good riddance, I guess.”
You’re about to leave when Steve murmurs, “Not like you need it now.” Your face heats up and something pulls in your lower stomach.
“I mean… I do.” You walk away, and Steve follows you out the door.
“Huh? Why? You’ve got me.” It’s supposed to be a teasing joke, but it comes out more sincere than Steve intended.
“I- I’m not gonna just expect you to be in the mood whenever I am and need to… y’know.” Flipping the garbage can lid open, you drop the defunct sex toy into the trash. “Thanks for the memories, you stupid, janky wand.”
Steve snickers, “Yeah, the best memory being the day you needed my help.”
Ignoring him, you grab a glass from one of the cabinets, heading to the sink, but he leans against the edge to block you from the faucet.
Steve smirks; this could be fun. “And no, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”
“See, that’s why I like my vibrator. It can’t sass back like a certain someone.”
“There’s many ways to shut a certain someone up.” You shove Steve aside and he scoffs. “Alright, well, next time you need to get off, don’t come crying to me.”
When he leaves, he ends up in the living room, turning the TV on before flopping onto the couch.
You frown and crinkle your brows as you shut the faucet off, muttering in a mocking tone, “Don’t come crying to me. Blah blah blah.”
“Heard that,” Steve flips you off, and from where you’re standing in the kitchen all you see is his arm shooting up above the couch, making you giggle. 
“Wasn’t trying to hide it.” You shuffle over to the couch, about to sit on the opposite end of Steve, but he lets his arms fall open lazily, looking at you expectedly. “What?”
“C’mere,” He whines, forcing a pout. 
You narrow your gaze, setting your glass on the table. “My vibrator wasn’t this needy, either.”
Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand as he pulls you back down near him. You yelp, landing next to him, fidgeting a bit to get comfortable. “Yeah, well, your vibrator wasn’t this hot, so is it really that much of a loss?” His arm hangs over your hip, while the other reaches for your back; he traces mindless patterns along your exposed skin, prickling as you shiver.
With your back to the TV, its glow slips over you and onto Steve, illuminating his features as the two of you grow into a comfortable silence, as your hands lazily wander his body. It’s only sweet, gentle caresses from the both of you, something you wish you could get used to. Something, a small, mundane detail you wish the two of you had in a relationship. 
Except, there is no relationship, and you have to remind yourself often you can’t become more attached and attracted to Steve than you already are.
You’re just friends.
“This is… kinda nice,” He murmurs as you duck your head under his chin, cuddling closer.
Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.
“Y’know, if you ever just wanted to, like, hang out like this… I’m cool with it if you are.”
“‘Hang out’, I didn’t know cuddling had a new name,” He softly teases, embracing your frame. “Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask you something, you got a minute?”
“No, Harrington, I’m actually late for a meeting at…” You turn over to read the wall clock, glancing back at Steve, “… 8:36 p.m. We can reschedule for tomorrow though!”
“You’re the worst.”
“But I’m the best at being the worst, right?”
He doesn’t answer, just gives a drawn out, exasperated sigh before letting his head fall forward, onto your shoulders while he sneakily pushes his pants down. Just enough to free himself. He rests there for a few moments before he pulls the fabric of your shorts aside, teasing the head of his cock at your entrance. You whimper and push back against him right as he guides himself into you. The stretch, as always, renders you silent as you adjust to his size.
“Is this what I have to do when you won’t shut up?” His arm winds around your neck, bringing your back flush against his chest; he’s not choking you, but when his arm flexes around your throat, your walls constrict around him. “Yeah, thought so.”
You wait, but no movement comes. No rocking his hips into you, no slow, teasing thrusts; Steve just lays behind you, buried deep in you, enjoying the way you squirm.
“I wanted to get you off to make up for earlier, y’know, just trying to be a good friend,” The last two words came out with an edge. “Trying to reward you for being such a good little fuck toy,” His arm tightens a bit, adding the tiniest bit of pressure; you throb around him, shuddering. “But now, I think you can just keep me warm instead.”
“Steve, please… I- I‘ll be good, I’ll be so good,” You babble, desperate for some kind of movement, some kind of friction, anything. He tightens his hold on you a little more, laughing breathily into your ear as you try moving. You gasp, “Touch me, p- please?”
“I’m already touching you.”
“That’s not what I mean!” You’ve got a short fuse when he riles you up just to drag out the teasing.
Just like the first time, neither of you know when to quit.
“Okay, so what do you mean?”
Whether it’s from the teasing now, or being used earlier. Maybe it’s both, mixed with the feelings you have for Steve that are getting too overwhelming. Whatever the case, you get pissed off enough to touch yourself instead.
“I didn’t say— ”
“I don’t fucking care what you didn’t say, if you’re not gonna do it, I will.”
Sometimes the tension makes you mean, and it’s something Steve likes, but refuses to admit, with his words, at least.
His throbbing cock inside of you, on the other hand, has no problem telling the truth.
“Well, fine, guess you don’t need me then,” Steve’s arm loosens from your neck as he begins to slip out, but with all of your strength, you reach back to hold him in place. It’s an awkward position, sure to make your arm sore tomorrow. You open yourself up a little more, throwing a leg back over his.
“You’ve been teasing me non-fucking-stop, asshole. Least you can do is stay while I get off.” Your fingers try finding a satisfying pattern to tease your clit with, but you’ve been so spoiled with your stupid toys, and Steve, it doesn’t feel the same. Doesn’t feel as good.
You can feel the smirk Steve makes as he leans against your shoulder, looking over to watch your hand and fingers struggle to keep you blissed out.
“Aw, honey, is it too hard for you?” He kisses the back of your shoulder, then slowly makes his way with more up your neck. Your breath shudders as you clench around Steve, just from his words alone. “Doesn’t feel as good as that toy, huh?”
You can feel hot tears begin to surface; you’re angry that you can’t make yourself feel good, angry that he’s taunting you after trying to take over and show him you didn’t need him.
But you do need Steve, and that’s been fucking with you so much since the first time the two of you kissed. That alone had you soaked, but right now, your own fucking hand isn’t cutting it, and you’re angry at how embarrassing this is.
Sure doesn’t stop Steve from humiliating you, though. “Doesn’t feel as good as my hands, hm?”
You bite your lip, holding back groans of frustration, but Steve can feel how tense you are.
“Must not feel the same as my tongue. Not even close,” he murmurs into your ear, kissing the skin behind it, then back down to your jaw. “No way those fingers can ever feel like my cock.” He nips at your jawline, “I bet you can’t get rid of that ache between your legs, not without my help. You need me, don’t you?”
Steve slides his hands onto your chest, tugging the bralette down before roughly, yet slowly, grabbing you. He pinches your nipples, enjoying the view of you arching into his touch, whimpering as your hand slows down on yourself, defeated. 
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what, Steve?” You spit through gritted teeth. He grabs your face to bring your attention to him. Something flashes across his eyes at the sight of you near tears, not lust, not desire, but you can’t figure out exactly what it is. 
“That you need me.” You tighten around him, already giving your answer. He smirks, but again, something’s hidden behind that dominant exterior, past the pleasure over humiliating you. 
What the fuck is he hiding?
“I d- don’t,” You lie, but your wobbling pout gives you away immediately.
“Angel, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I can help you.”
You’ve abandoned touching yourself completely, exhausted and embarrassed. Holding one another’s gaze, there’s a softness in Steve’s eyes that makes you finally break. “I- I need you, Steve. Please?”
One hand still teases your nipple while the other slides down, down, down, reaching your waistband before he pulls out completely, causing you to whine in protest.
“Hang on, angel,” He pulls your shorts off completely, leaving you bare before gently sliding back into you, groaning, “Wanted t’really feel you.”
Sex with Steve has usually been rough, or fast, or both. It’s usually needy with desperation to get off. Sometimes there’s a fantasy one or both of you want to fulfill.
This… this is different. Just like the look Steve held, you can’t figure out what is different, but it’s not bad.
In fact, you might like this the most.
“You want me to move?” Steve asks, and it’s not cocky. It’s not the demeanor he was teasing you with before. 
“I don’t— do whatever, just need you to touch me,” Your whining is pathetic, but at least he finally reaches down to where you need him. His fingers slide between your folds, groaning when he meets the slick of your arousal. He’s slow, not painfully slow, rather careful as he thrusts into you. It’s soft, and you can feel every inch of him, really feel him.
“This okay?” His breathy question is just above your ear while he kisses along the shell of it.
“So, so okay.” This position might be your favorite, with the way he’s so deep in you, forcing your eyes to roll back into your head as he fills you completely. You lean back into him, and he takes one look at you before leaning in to kiss you, like he knew what you were silently asking for.
It’s soft, languid, the kind of kisses that make you squirm with a certain need, one he’s fulfilling right now.
Pulling back, his lips barely touch yours when he teases, “You’re s- so tight… y’really like it soft, huh?”
You only answer with a nod and a whimper, leaning in to kiss him again, but he moves back with a smirk. It’s not taunting, for once. He’s just really enjoying how turned on you are right now. How much he’s turning you on.
“I like it w- when we— god, fuck— when it’s…” You’re struggling to find the right words, fucked out already. Steve still watches you, listening intently as he can feel your walls pulse around him “… Intense, but this is s- so— oh!”
It’d almost be embarrassing how fast he can push you over the edge, but it feels far too good to care. You shake against him, tensing up as your head lolls back against his chest, jaw dropped in a silent moan. Then, it finally slips out, and it’s loud.
“Good girl,” Steve murmurs, kissing your temple. “Doing so— fuck— s- so good for me.”
Before you can even rest, he convinces you to let him keep going, give you more pleasure, murmuring how you’re ‘his girl’, how you can take one more, just ‘one more’.
By the third round, Steve’s question is long forgotten by both of you.
···························
“Why am I taking the backroads again?”
“It’s a… nicer ride. Just trust me.”
Steve drove along the lonely, winding road. The sunset began to blanket the sky in hues of oranges, purples, and pinks. 
“Okay, but… you know it’s a longer drive this way, right?”
You’re leaning over the seat to unzip his pants, and Steve freezes, but not before hitting the gas by accident. He only speeds up a little before catching himself. “Are you trying to kill us?!”
“I only touched your pants. Are you really that sensitive?”
“I- I just didn’t expect it— I’m driving and trying to be safe.”
“Yeah, and I bet you look both ways before making a turn, too.”
“I do!”
You pull his cock out, half hard already, and waste no time leaning down to lick up the precum already beginning to seep out.
“H- hey!”
You pull off. “What? Don’t want this? I can stop.”
“This- it’s just— unsafe.”
“Is that your only complaint?”
“Well… yeah, I gu— shit- ” Steve tries suppressing a moan as you take him in completely without hesitation, and the sound that leaves him just sounds strangled and pained. He white knuckles the steering wheel while your eyes water, gagging around him.
Not a soul to be found on the roads, and Steve’s still nervous he’ll hit something. Or someone. But you’re humming around him, and making these sweet, little gagging noises, he has to remove a hand from the wheel to pull you off of him.
With his strong hand, he yanks you back, still focusing on driving. “I thought you’d like this,” You pout, backing off as you settle back in your seat. “I’m sorry.”
“I do, but I- I think I like it a little too much. As much as I want you to finish, I need to make sure we get to Robin’s... Um, alive.”
“Okay, well… What are y’gonna do about that,” You point to his crotch, cock still hanging out of his pants, flushed red with need with precum still pearling at the tip.
Steve sighs, exhaling roughly through his nose, thinking for a moment as he drives on. He mutters a quick ‘fuck it’ before grabbing you by the hair to pull you back onto him. He doesn’t miss the mischievous smirk that flashes on your face before he shoves your mouth onto his cock.
“You— mnfph— that’s it, just— oh, g- god— relax, angel, relax that p- pretty throat f’me,” His cock twitches against your tongue, making you moan. “Wish I could fuck your face right now.”
Popping your mouth off of Steve, he catches a quick glance of your lips covered in your spit and some of his own mess, “Fuck…” You wrap your hand around his length, stroking him slowly.
“Kinda wish we did this on the highway instead,” You murmur as your lips attach to his neck, sucking the sensitive skin softly. Steve’s eyes almost flutter shut, but he forces himself to grip the wheel and keep his eyes on the road. “It’d be kinda hot, huh? Trying to do this without gettin’ caught.”
“Uh-huh…”
“Soooooo… If I keep going, can you finish before we get there?”
Steve’s answer comes in the form of his hand on your head, twisting his fingers into your hair before shoving you back down on his cock.
···························
It’s under an hour since you and Steve got to Robin and Vickie’s new place, where she said it’d just be a small, casual housewarming party, and two things have you incredibly bothered right now:
This party is anything but small— you didn’t think Robin even cared about this many people to invite them over.
Steve’s kissing someone else right now.
While wandering around to find Steve and ask if you could leave early, you stumbled upon Steve playing goddamn tongue hockey with someone else.
If it happened when you and Steve were just friends, you’d be happy for him, genuinely. Hell, even if the two of you were FWBs and you had no feelings for him, you’d be thrilled he felt comfortable enough to kiss someone tonight that wasn’t a cis woman.
Shit, you’d even be a solid wing-woman and cheer him on for any action. Yet your feelings for him just turned it all into envy. Nothing but envy coursing through your veins. You had no right to say anything in the first place, because it’s not like the two of you were actually together.
It still didn’t settle your jealousy, or the overthinking triggered by the mixed signals he’s given over the last few weeks. The audacity, too, for Steve to pull this only hours after you fucked… just one hour after you gave him road head—
Yeah, you had to leave, ASAP.
“Hey, where ya’ goin’?!” Robin slurred after you, too drunk to get up and check if you were okay.
So you just call over your shoulder, “This was fun, but I gotta go home!” And you knew damn well you weren’t fooling anyone with the way your voice wavered; you hoped everyone was too drunk or distracted.
The front door creaked open as you hurried down the porch steps, relieved to breathe some fresh air, at the very least. The soft song of the crickets in the woods kept you company.
Your arms are crossed over your chest, shielding yourself from the breezy spring air. You wish you didn’t leave your jacket in Steve’s car, but this was better than having to see him kiss someone else.
Until a familiar BMW pulls up alongside you on the empty street. 
Harder to shake than a cold.
Rolling the window down, Steve calls out, “Angel, why are you trying to walk home?”
“Don’t you have a throat to shove your tongue down, or something?”
Steve taps the breaks as he mutters, “Fuck.”
“Surprised y’all didn’t do that, either.” You continue on, and he continues following you in the car.
“Please, just let me drive you back? Don’t have to talk to me or anything.”
“No thanks, I can get home on my own just fine.”
Steve hits the breaks, sighing as he throws the car in park. He steps out of the car, leaning on the roof. “Yeah? What direction is home?” You spin around, walking backwards as you throw your arms out, exasperated. 
“Fuck you, Steve.”
He bites his tongue, resisting the urge to say some stupid shit like “Already did”; riling you up wasn’t the answer right now. You angrily point in the direction you’ve been walking, continuing on with all the confidence in your body. 
“Try again.” His remark makes you whip around, flipping him off, before marching on in the wrong direction again. 
Okay, he deserved that, at the very least.
Steve jogs to catch up to you, though it’s not like you made it very far, stumbling over your own feet. You’re about to lose your balance when Steve makes it to you, just in time, catching you mid-fall.
“Alright, c’mon,” He groans as he attempts to get you stable on both feet, before slinging your arm around his shoulders, and yours around his waist. He guides you back to the car, not giving into your little grumbles and protests as he helps you into the passenger seat.
An agonizing silence settles between the two of you on the ride home, and you’re not sure if you can break the silence without crying. So you don’t. Steve has no problem speaking up first anyway, otherwise, the silence will just send his anxiety skyrocketing.
“I’m sorry,” He sounds sincere, as always. He tears his eyes from the road for a moment to glance at you, only feeling worse when he can really see how hurt you are. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was like… that. With us, I mean. And I’m sorry.”
“S’fine,” Your voice wavers with weakness, “I know what this was. I- I knew what we were getting into. If anyone should apologize, it’s me, ‘cause I had no right getting jealous.”
Steve forgets his response immediately, pausing a moment to take your words in.
“You were jealous?” He almost sounds pleased to hear you admit this.
Oh, god fucking dam—
“….. No?”
“You literally just said you got jealous.”
“I- I don’t— shut up. You misheard me.”
“Oh, I did?” Steve Harrington can be such a smug and snarky motherfucker sometimes. “What’d you say then? Just wanna make sure I hear you correctly this time, honey.”
You fire back, “Don’t fucking call me that.”
“Should I just call you a brat instead?”
“You know what, Steve?” You glance over and he’s still smirking like an asshole. “Don’t talk to me for the rest of the ride. Or the rest of the night.”
His face falls. “Why not?”
You don’t answer, just cross your arms and tilt your view to the window, watching the world pass by.
“Are you really gonna shut me out? Over this?”
Again, you hold back any responses. Let him dig his own grave at this point.
“You’re the one who kept saying we’re just friends.” As he reminds you, his fingers are clutching the wheel tightly, eyes glued to the road. “You’re the one—“
“No, Steve. You are the one who said from the start friends can fuck around. You said ‘what are friends for?’ after you went down on me.”
So much for your petty silence.
“You continued it! You said ‘this is what good friends do for each other’, and that fuckin’ around is just helping each other out. How was I supposed to know you wanted more?”
Steve had a point. You tried lying to yourself that you ended up sending the wrong signals his way. 
“I— Look, I’m sorry I kissed someone else. And this doesn’t excuse hurting you, but did you ever think maybe I was doing my best not to fall for you?” As he pulls up to the apartments, he sinks into his seat, sighing. “I should’ve been honest from the start, or maybe should’ve ran out for batteries instead of fucking around with you and both of our feelings to begin with. I’m sorry.”
You’re exhausted and intoxicated, out of energy to continue this. Unable to look at Steve, you mutter, “Can we just… talk about this tomorrow?” There’s no chance for him to answer, because you’re already out of the car and making your way through the lobby and to the stairs. 
···························
Steve took his time returning to the apartment, wanting to give you space, but also in case he got upset enough to cry, too.
He was so, so fucked, and now… he fucked everything up. Sure, you didn’t make it crystal clear how you felt about Steve when you could’ve so much earlier. But it’s not like he did any better.
When he enters the shared space, everything’s dark, and quiet. He figures you went to sleep, since your bedroom’s door is closed. To his shock, though, he finds you asleep in his bed.
Maybe you mistook his bed for yours while being drunk and tired. Steve’s unsure if he should sleep on the couch, to give you more space. But maybe you fell asleep here purposefully. Or maybe you waited here for him and eventually passed out, too tired and upset to keep yourself awake.
You’re half covered by the blankets, wearing only your panties and his shirt again, the one you’ve practically stolen at this point. Steve notices your scrunchie still on your wrist, the subtle symbol you’d give if you were in the mood for free use play. He also notices the way your skin is prickling up; you’re definitely cold, but you’re too drunk to wake up and do something about it.
Steve reaches down and slips the scrunchie over your wrist, setting it on the nightstand, then pulls the covers over you. Immediately, you curl into the blankets, making the softest hum of contentment, falling deeper into sleep. 
Or so he thought.
As he changes and strips just to his boxers, Steve hesitates, questioning again if he should sleep here, or the couch. Consumed by trying to make the best choice, mainly for you, your hand reaches out and grabs his leg weakly.
“Stay?”
Your eyes are red, both from exhaustion and crying. Steve feels awful.
He also can’t pass up an opportunity to tease you lovingly. “Honey, I appreciate the invite, but this is my room.” Your hand lifts to flip him off. “Yeah, there she is.” He huffs a quick laugh out, before double checking, “Are you sure you want me to stay? I- I can give you space if you need.”
“I need you, not space.” You roll to the other side of the bed, throwing the covers back. “Please?”
Steve felt his heart ache; this wouldn’t make the dreaded conversation any easier by morning, but he didn’t want to say no, because in some backwards way, the two of you need one another right now.
He crawls in next to you, pulling the covers back up over both of you. He holds himself back from reaching out for you, an action that’s become second nature over the last few weeks.
Instead, he asks, “Can I hold you?” Steve hates the way his voice cracks with longing, giving away how awful he felt. For himself. For you. For the both of you. It wasn’t supposed to end up in this strange suspension between lust and love. It should’ve stayed a one time thing, if at all.
Only silence comes from your side of the bed as you’re already falling back asleep. Steve turns over and hopes sleep can come that quick for him, too.
····································
When morning arrives, you wake up peacefully, naturally, and with a major headache. 
“Fucking christ.”
You roll over, realizing the other side of Steve’s bed is empty.
Wait. Why am I here?
You didn’t forget last night, but you can’t come up with a good reason as to why you decided to fall asleep in Steve’s bed instead of your own. Not a justifiable reason in sight after the car ride home.
Blinking a few times as you adjust to the bright light, something on the nightstand catches your eye.
It’s a note, with a water bottle and your cute little pipe with a packed bowl. A smile joins your features as you read the note. 
hey, angel. figured you might need these for the rough hangover. 
if you still wanna talk when I get home, we can. if not, we can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us. either way, you better stay hydrated today. or else. not sure what the ‘or else’ is yet, but I mean it. drink your damn water.
— steve ♡
While the note, the tiny heart near his name, and kindness behind it made your smile grow, your heart aches at one line.
We can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us.
It’s sincere and considerate, like Steve is, other than last night, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know you fell for him during all of this, so could you even count that against him?
Steve’s more worried about your comfort in all of this than his own; he always does this, he always puts everyone’s needs and feelings first.
Before you can even fully wake up, you’re reaching for the phone on the table, dialing without much thought. It rings twice before a familiar voice answers.
“Family Vi— ”
“Robin! Is Steve there? Can I talk to him?”
“Yeah, hi to you too,” She deadpans.
“Sorry. Hi. Hi Robin. Hello. Please give Steve the phone, pleaaaaaasssseeeeeee— ”
She scoffs, and you can hear the eye roll she makes, “Oh my god, shut up, shut up. I’ll get him.”
“Thank you!” You’re a little too enthusiastic in your reply. It’s quiet for a minute until you hear someone pick up the other end’s receiver.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve’s immediately jumping into worry mode.
“Nothing’s wrong, why would something be wrong?”
“You never call here. Just… surprised me, is all.”
“Oh… well, look, I- I just wanted to say, about the note—” ”
“Was it too much? I’m sorry if I— ”
“Steve, shut up for a minute. Please.” He pushes a soft, quiet laugh through the phone. You can picture him with his arms crossed, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, leaning against the counter. Robin’s probably rolling her eyes. “We can… we can talk tonight. I didn’t want you to go the whole day worried about it.”
It’s silent on his end, other than distant, soft breaths. “You didn’t have to call. N- not that I don’t appreciate it! Just… y’know. I kinda have an idea of what’s coming. And it’s okay. I just want you to be—”
“Steve, I’m grateful you’re always looking out for me and my feelings, but that’s why I called. I want you to feel comfortable too, okay? Whatever works for you, works for me.”
“I— ”
“Steve, get off the phone! You can talk to your girlfriend later!”
Steve lazily covers the mic, but you can still hear him quip back, “She’s not my— whatever. Give me a minute.”
“Thirty seconds!”
“Jesus, what bug crawled up Keith’s ass?” You joke, earning a sigh from Steve.
“Definitely something annoying, like a mosquito.” He snickers back into the phone before clearing his throat. “Um… can we talk in… two hours? I can come back on my bre— ”
You cut him off anxiously. “Yes. Please. Yeah. I’d like that.”
“Okay, two hours. Yeah. Okay. See ya’ then.” Steve sounds nervous, rushing off the phone before hanging up first.
Two hours. Not that long. You should be fine.
Totally fine.
········································································
It’s been an hour, and you’re ready to move on from chewing your nails nervously, to gnawing your entire arm off.
Okay, maybe that’s a bit much. You’re still nervous as fuck, though. How can you last another hour like this?
You passed up the weed, wanting to be as sober as possible for the conversation, but you hate taking painkillers, so you keep the lights off and throw a pair of sunglasses on; the light is the worst for you with hangovers, but this barely helps.
Even worse, your head’s spinning and the constant stream of thoughts revolving around you and Steve make you dizzy. You stay in his bed, covers pulled up and blinds drawn to keep out the light, with your headphones on to block out any noise outside the apartment. They’re not even plugged into your Walkman, you’re just hoping the barrier of silence helps.
It doesn’t. You hear no sound, but your head is still pounding. Maybe you should’ve smoked after all.
The blankets are yanked back, startling you into a scream. It stops as soon as it starts when you see Steve. He’s chuckling at your reaction, and though you’re relieved to see it’s him and not some monster or masked intruder, your heart’s about to jump out of your chest.
Gently, he pulls the headphones off of you. “Sorry, honey. Uh… why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”
Every time he calls you that, or angel, you feel yourself melt. The hold this man has on you is insane.
“Hangover, lights suck, all that stuff.” You grumble, falling back onto the bed. Steve sits next to you. “I- I thought you said two hours?”
“Yeah… waiting was driving me nuts. So, I, uh, I left for the day.” He rubs the back of his neck, gaze shying away, but not before he notices you’re still wearing his shirt, and not wearing pants.
You’re shocked he pulled that off. “What’d you tell Keith to leave early?!”
“My great aunt’s in the hospital.”
You stifle a laugh, “Steve, didn’t you use that excuse a few months ago?”
His eyes grow wide. “Shit, did I?”
“Oh my god, yeah! You had me call to pretend— whatever,” You crack up, head falling back with a loud laugh. “You gotta keep track of these excuses!” You cradle your own head, wincing from the pain your own loudness brings.
“Hey, you didn’t— ” Steve’s eyes darted to the nightstand, about to tease you for not smoking yet, but you haven't touched the bottle of water either. “Jesus, no wonder your head hurts.” 
“I didn’t wanna be high when we talked,” You grumble, about to lay back down, but Steve holds you upward, handing you the water. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You take a sip. “Happy?”
Steve lets you go, running a hand down his face with a sigh. “You’re lucky I love you.”
You’re mid-sip before choking on water, struggling through a cough to ask, “I- I- did you— what did you just say?”
“Uh… good question. You heard that? I said that? Out loud?” Steve rambles a lot, but he’s great at it when nervous. “I think you’re imagining things.”
“Would’ve worked if I was high, but nice try.”
He groans with an eye roll, flopping onto the bed, landing on his back. His hands come up to cover his face, but you pull them back. 
“I didn’t want to say it like that.” His admission comes without eye contact as his face burns red. “I wasn’t gonna say it at all, honestly. I kinda figured out this is the end of things anyway.”
“Wait, what? Steve—”
“N- not that it’s a bad thing!” You haven’t let go of his hand, and he’s either completely oblivious or doesn’t want to let go. “I’m— whatever you decide, I’ll respect. We can go back to being friends, or even just… boring roommates, if you want.”
“Okay, but— ”
“And since it’s all out there— not saying this to make you feel guilty, or bad, or anything, but I- I thought these feelings were new, and it turns out I’ve felt this way about you since… probably the first week we lived here.”
Your heart aches, but in the best ways; you need to tell Steve you feel the same.
“Stevie, listen—”
“But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can move out, if that’s easier.”
If only he’d shut the fuck up.
He’s getting himself worked up, and you wish he’d just take a minute to breathe. “Not, like, forcing that either, because if you just wanna be friends still, I- I’d be more than happy… and lucky to have you in my life still. But that’s- it’s— I’m not trying to—”
You’re growing agitated, wishing he’d give himself some grace. “Steve, take a second to— ”
“And I mean what I said last night, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I thought maybe it’d help distract me, but it just hurt you instead… I just fucked everything up—”
“Oh, for the love of— ” You swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, throwing your sunglasses off in the process. Leaning down, tone dripping with adoration, you murmur, “Steve, shut up.” 
You kiss him, hoping this pauses the overthinking. He’s stunned, expecting anything but this. The two of you have kissed plenty of times by now, but this one is everything to him.
Finally, Steve kisses back, earning a smile from you against his lips. You cradle his face in your hands as you feel his run along your back, holding you against him as any uncertainty floats away. Breaking the kiss, you don’t pull away, just admit softly against his lips, “I love you, too.”
He sits up, leaning back on his arms with eyes wide in disbelief, “You- are you- you mean it?”
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t suffer through a hangover for just anyone, you know. I wish it didn’t take the whole battery incident— ”
“You mean vibrator incident—”
“Oh, will you shut— it’s all the same! Anyway,” You giggle, a sound Steve adores, one that pulls a smile across his face every time he hears you. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you. A- and you coming out just to make me feel better about coming out, that really woke me up… and, uh, do not let this get to your big head—”
“My head is not big!”
You narrow your stare, shutting him up. “… When I saw you with someone else, and it made me so jealous, I’ve never felt that with anyone before. I didn’t think it was love until you came looking for my dumb, drunk ass on the street.”
“Someone had to, you were on your way to fucking Canada if you kept walking in that direction.” Steve snickers, but kisses your cheek, softening the blow. You can’t help huffing out a laugh with him; honestly, he had every right to poke fun at your little stunt.
Your voice falls quiet, turns small, “I’m sorry I never said anything earlier, and that I kept pushing that ‘just friends’ bullshit.”
“Hey, if it makes you feel any better,” Steve tries steering you away from taking the blame, “You’re a way better kisser than they were.”
You snort, “You’re just saying that.” It doesn’t stop your skin from prickling up, or the heat that blooms across your face.
“I’m not, I promise. You weren’t kidding, they literally shoved their tongue down my throat. You running off gave me an excuse to leave, so… thanks.”
You can’t help teasing him, “What are friends for?”
Steve rolls his eyes for the millionth time before sitting up to push you back onto the bed. He climbs on top, and you tug at the ugly Family Video vest he still has on.
“Babe, get this stupid thing off,” You giggle, tugging it down his arms. He pouts.
“What? You’re not into it? I thought it was kinda sexy,” His brows wiggle with his joke, and you throw it onto the floor, glaring at him. “What if I wore that, and nothing else? Just the vest.”
You’re pulling his shirt off, throwing that to the floor, too. “Then I’d definitely kick you out.”
Steve leans down to you, murmuring, “You’d never.” His lips brush against your jaw, kissing along your face to reach your neck.
“You’re right, but— ” Your breath hitches, holding your words back as he continues to kiss down your neck. “—w-we definitely wouldn’t fuck for a long time.”
“Now that’s a threat I take seriously,” His words against your skin vibrate and tickle, sending shivers up your spine. Then, he stops, and sits back up.
“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” You instantly cringe at how pathetic you sound, but Steve doesn’t tease you for it, just kisses your forehead quickly before leaning over you.
“Sit up,” Confused, you listen as he takes all the pillows around you, cushioning and covering the headboard. As he comes back to you, he pushes you back softly. “Okay— ”
Now it clicks. “Oh my god, I’m not gonna hit my head this time, I swear!”
He smirks, “Better safe than sorry.” Stealing your chance to quip back, his lips are back on yours, and it’s the kind of tender kiss where he likes to draw it out, take his time. The kind that only makes you squirm from the start.
“Hey, what’s got you so worked up?” Steve pulls back, resting his hand on your face; he can feel the goosebumps on your face prickle up against his palm. His touch is warm, soothing, and easy to gravitate to; you’re certainly not immune to leaning into his hand whenever he does this. 
“Need you, Steve,” You breathe, legs closing underneath him to try and subside the ache between your legs. 
“I wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that,” He teases, pushing your legs apart, fixated on the damp patch on the fabric between your legs. You whine, rolling your hips against nothing, only showing how needy you are. “‘Cause if I did, I’d have enough to get you a new vibrator.”
You feign offense with a loud gasp, “I thought you said I wouldn’t need it anymore, ‘cause I have you instead.”
Steve doesn’t respond, just hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your panties down. His hands run up your legs, pinning you to the bed as he reaches your hips. It’s not like you were going anywhere to begin with, but the pressure and possessiveness feels… nice.
“You do have me,” The meaning behind his affirmation spreads far beyond sex. “Always.”
You reach for his pants as he leans over you again, “Don’t have you in me yet, though,” You grumble, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. Steve stifles a laugh while you struggle. “Who designed this fuckin’ thing anyway?”
“I thought we were having a sweet moment, but your sailor mouth’s ruining it,” His joke doesn’t make you laugh like he hoped. Instead, you just look frustrated, finally loosening his belt. “Whoa, hey— honey, look at me.”
A sharp exhale escapes your lips while you glance up at Steve, but only for a moment before staring off, “M’sorry.”
“We don’t have to do this, you know that, right?”  A finger slips under your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his. Your eyes meet his again, and he gives you the same soft, caring look he gave you a few nights ago. “I’m perfectly content with just hanging out the rest of the day, doing whatever you want.”
“I want to, I really do, I just… ” You try forcing your voice to come out stronger, more certain, but it just cracks as you admit, “I think I’m scared it’ll end so fast.”
Steve thinks back to the first time the two of you kissed, the first time you were fully exposed to him, the first time he went down on you— the first time anyone went down on you, how disappointed you sounded when it was almost over. He remembers telling you it could happen again, that it didn’t have to be a one time thing.
He remembers the way you hit your head against the wall, again, the first time the two of you fucked, and how he told you next time it’d be in a bed, helping you laugh off the clumsiness. You sounded so surprised that you even talked about the possibility of a ‘next time’.
Almost every time after either of you initiated anything sexual, your reaction was always shock and surprise when Steve talked about fucking around again in the future. There were more times where you begged him to not let it end yet, but he thought it was just in the moment.
Steve didn’t realize you meant you didn’t want things between the two of you to end. It wasn’t ever really in the moment. It was a fear you’ve had since the first time he’s touched you, and it’s a fear of Steve’s, too.
“Angel, I’m not going anywhere,” You move up against the pillows as he speaks softly to you, shifting with you to keep you comfortable while staying close. “I can’t speak for you, but on my end, I don’t plan on ending this fast. Or ever… but that- that’s another conversation for another day, okay?”
You nod, slipping your hand into his, “Okay.”
“Point is, this isn’t a one time thing. You really do have me. And when I say always, I mean it.”
There’s no hesitation in your response, “You have me, too, Steve. Always.”
“Let me take care of you,” His hand is cupping your face again, thumb sweeping along your cheek softly. “Get those awful thoughts out of that pretty head of yours. How’s that sound?”
You nod against his palm, hands coming up to hold his forearm as he holds you. “Please, Stevie.” Your eyes fall to his belt before reaching for it. You pull it off, adding it to the pile of his clothes. “That thing is the worst.”
“Won’t wear that one around you anymore, promise,” Steve chuckles as the two of you strip each other from any remaining clothing.
His lips find their way back to your neck, picking up where he left off with the gentle kisses. Your hands wander his body, tracing along the dips and curves of his toned arms. It’s easy to lose yourself in the scattered freckles and moles all over, making up constellations, a galaxy of his own. What brings you back is the breathy moan made from his touch along your folds.
It’s one finger, then two, and you’re arching your back, pressing yourself against him, dizzy from shallow breaths as he finds your sweet spot. His long fingers have no problem reaching where you need him most, not struggling the way you do when you touch yourself. 
Steve starts kissing down your body, but you grab him by the shoulders. “You okay?”
“Stay with me,” You gasp as he continues fucking you on his fingers. “I- I don’t— it feels good, but I wanna cum with you instead.”
A blush creeps along Steve’s face as a lazy smile curls up. He makes his way back to you, retracing his kisses with new ones, of course. When he rests his forehead against yours, his hand’s still between your legs.
“Still wanna make y’feel good first,” Steve’s thumb softly swipes over your clit while he continues working his fingers, curling them just right. “You can cum twice, you’ve done it before.”
Your fingers twist through his hair, bringing him towards you as you close the gap, trying to kiss him the way he was kissing you. Your hips roll onto his fingers, feeling your legs shake and your walls constrict around him.
Steve pulls back, admiring the way your face twists in an expression of beautiful agony, so, so close to the edge. He leans down to murmur into your ear, “That’s it, angel, let go for me”. Other praises follow, but you’re just at the point of no return, unable to hear him as you finally reach your high, a strangled moan slipping between your lips with ease.
Aftershocks roll through your body while you pant shallow breaths, vision a little fuzzy from your eyes squeezing shut, and Steve kissing your temple, then your cheek, with more gentle praises, ones you can faintly make out.
You’re barely settled, still in the comedown, but you’re pulling Steve closer, “Fuck, I love you.” He beams, knowing already he’ll never get tired of hearing that from you.
He spreads your legs, but stops to study your expression. Checking on you, he asks, “Are you sure you can handle one more?”
“Uh-huh,” You try to giggle, still breathless as you nod. “As long as it’s with you.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but you know him, he loves the corny little remarks you shoot back and forth. You know him. You know him so well by now, because he’s yours. And you’re his.
“Hey, angel?” He’s admiring your figure, still catching your breath, already blissed out with hooded eyes, and the sweetest smile he’s ever seen on your face. He lines up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he leans back down to you with a lingering forehead kiss.
“Y- yeah?” You shudder out, adjusting to him all over again. His hand slips into yours, fingers lacing together before he gives a gentle squeeze.
“I love you, too.”
The first night you had together, when Steve offered to help, it wasn’t meant to just be a one and done kind of fling. Maybe it felt like it back then, and maybe even last night, while the two of you fought over your feelings, it felt like it should’ve been an arrangement that ended long ago. But now? Now, everything’s so sure. Everything’s so certain.
With Steve, everything’s crystal clear.
It only takes the first thrust for the two of you to meld together with ease. It’s almost effortless, the way you and Steve can flow into and with one another. You’ve never felt like this with anyone else, never felt so comfortable, so at home within someone’s embrace, never felt such safety to be yourself completely.
At the same time, both you and Steve give each other the same, cheesy line, “feels like you’re made for me.” While neither of your movements stop, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. Steve buries his head into your shoulder, while his shoulders shake along with the noise. Your arms wrap around him, laughing even harder when he realizes he can feel you laugh while deep in you. 
“Hey- h- hey wait, waitwaitwait!” He can’t control his laughter, and neither can you. “Every time you do that it— fuck!” He’s trying his hardest to calm down, hoping you can, too. “You gotta stop doing that, I can- you- fuck, you’re so tight.”
You cover your face with your hands, trying to kill your giggles, and slowly it works, leading Steve to calm down, too. With a quick kiss to his chin as he lifts his head, you flip on top, riding him immediately.
Any laughter still at the back of Steve’s throat dies instantly as you grind down onto him. You finally find a steady, slow pace to roll your hips; there’s no rush, there’s no fear it’ll all disappear when the two of you finish. It’s just you and Steve, nothing else, no one else.
No distractions or kinks or secrets, just the two of you, together.
“Honey, m’not gonna last if you k- keep this up,” he breathes, strong hands on your hips, gently guiding you along.
“S’okay, I- I’m close,” You whimper, hand splayed against Steve’s chest. “A- and we can just— ” You sharply gasp, walls constricting around him. “we got all the time in the world, Stevie. You have me, always.” Your head tilts back as pleasure consumes you both, feeling him throb while your legs shake.
Before the two of you reach that sweet high together, you faintly hear Steve respond, “Y’have me, too, angel. Always.”
827 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
it's not ever what it looks like
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is saying you're sorry'
rated m | 3,299 words | cw: language, implied sexual content | tags: angst with a happy ending, arguing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, rock star eddie munson, teacher steve harrington, modern au, steve thinks eddie is cheating on him but HE ISN'T I PROMISE, marriage proposal
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
It wasn't the first time Steve woke up to pictures and articles about Eddie being seen with some model or actor, but it was the first time he'd actually been worried.
Eddie had been distant lately. Usually, when he was on tour, he'd call Steve on his lunch break and text him when he got off of work, and he'd try to Facetime him after his show if it wasn't in a different time zone.
But for the past week or so, he had excuses. They sounded legitimate until one of the afternoons he said the band was caught up in an interview so he couldn't call and Jeff called him ten minutes later to ask where Eddie was. Even with that, Steve hadn't assumed he was cheating.
Steve figured maybe Eddie was just tired or his social battery had run out. Those kinds of things happened before occasionally.
But not daily for over a week.
He was barely even responding to texts, and the ones he did respond to were hours later and hardly adding to any conversation.
And now this article.
There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like...well. Steve knew that look because it'd only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy.
The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?
Steve decided the only way through this was to read the entire article. At least then he could probably convince himself they were wrong.
Except the article went on to explain how Eddie hadn't brough Steve to any shows yet this tour, and how he'd been flirting more with the crowd after the show instead of just during it, how he was seen at two bars over the last week when he usually doesn't go out after shows.
It went on to say that these pictures were taken shortly after they'd been seen sneaking away from a group of people they'd been hanging out with and that they seemed very close for the entire night. The article said the guy was a male lingerie model who made it big posing for Gucci last year. He'd just landed his first film role as a supporting actor and was looking to land a lead role soon.
Steve hated him. And he was getting a terrible feeling in his gut about what was going on.
He had 26 unread texts, most of them from Robin, Dustin, and Gareth.
All of them had said mostly the same things:
I can't get ahold of Eddie.
He wouldn't do this.
Something else is going on.
Call me when you can.
The last one was Gareth, and it's not that he and Gareth weren't close, but they never talked on the phone.
He tried not to think about he didn't have a single message or missed call from Eddie.
Steve called Gareth.
"Steve. Shit, I'm glad you called."
"What's going on?"
Gareth sighed. "Ed's kinda losing it. But before you call him-"
"Why would I call him? Shouldn't he be the one to call me? If he wants to be with some supermodel, he should probably be the one to break up with me, right?" Steve could feel tears gathering in his eyes, stinging the back of his throat. "I'm not sure why I have to be the one to hurt and do the breaking up."
"Steve-"
"Is there something you needed Gareth? Or were you just trying to defend your friend?"
"There's nothing to defend! I swear-"
"Yeah. Well. Tell him to call me if he wants to explain anything, I guess."
Steve hung up just before a sob ripped from his throat.
He never had to worry about Eddie being a famous rock star, spending 6-7 months of the year gone, meeting all kinds of flashy celebrities. Eddie loved him so much, he never had any doubt that he'd always be his first choice.
Until now.
It was a shitty feeling and he had to be at work in less than an hour.
No time to wallow.
He sent a quick text to Robin to let her know he was okay, but needed to focus on getting through work, then shut off his phone.
"Is everything okay?" the art teacher, Mrs. Phineas, asked him on their lunch break. "You seem out of it today."
"Just a migraine," Steve gave a half-smile, hoped it was enough to convince her to leave him alone. He still hadn't turned on his phone, and at this point, he didn't really want to.
She tilted her head to the side. "When are you off to see your man?"
"Don't know," he shrugged, ignoring the tug in his stomach, the sudden weight in his chest.
"Ah," she said, turning back to her soup. "Something happened."
"Nothing happened!"
"You look two seconds away from crying," she gave him a deadpan look. "Did he hurt you?"
Mrs. Phineas was a little older than Wayne, close to retirement, and had been his closest friend from the moment he started teaching at this school nearly six years ago. He'd told her everything about Eddie, their relationship, his hopes of Eddie taking a longer break after this tour so they could have some time just the two of them, maybe make a real plan for their future.
Steve nodded once.
Her hand covered his and she squeezed his fingers in her own. "I may not know him half as well as I know you, but I know that boy loves you. You two will get through this, whatever it is."
"I dunno if we will," Steve whispered, scared to speak louder and risk the tears falling. He'd been doing so well today.
She patted his hand and went back to eating, saying nothing else about it.
His students had caught on early that he wasn't quite his usual self, and the group of second graders had been on their best behavior because of it. As the dismissal bell rang and he started calling for bus riders to line up, someone walked through his door.
Eddie walked through his door.
He bit back the anger, knowing his students loved Eddie and wouldn't know he was here for any reason other than to say hello.
"Mr. Munson!" A few of them yelled as most of them ran up to him instead of getting in the line Steve asked them to.
"Hi kiddos!" Eddie was faking it, but luckily the students couldn't tell. "Sorry, but you guys have to listen to Mr. H right now. I promise I will come say hi again tomorrow."
The students grumbled about it and Steve took in his appearance.
He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept the night before, his hair was in a messy bun instead of perfectly arranged to fall on his shoulders, and he was wearing Steve's hoodie that had suspiciously gone missing the last time he'd been home.
The fact that Steve's first thought was how badly he wanted to pull him into a hug was not a good sign.
He checked names off the list as they filtered out the door and then called the car riders to line up. He went through the list and made sure everyone made it into the hall where they'd be called when their parent pulled up before turning back to Eddie.
He closed his door and made his way to his desk, ignoring the way Eddie awkwardly stood by one of the student desks in the front.
"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, signing off of his work email and organizing tomorrow's lesson plan.
"I needed to explain-"
"Right."
"That article wasn't supposed to come out yet."
Steve's jaw dropped. So he wasn't going to deny it, he was just gonna act like it was the media's fault for releasing it before he could talk to Steve.
"Yeah. So you decided to come break up with me in person because you got caught cheating instead of doing it over the phone right before the article hit online. Got it."
Steve was not going to cry about this. Not in front of Eddie.
He was going to go home, shower, try to eat something, and then he was going to cry for the next 10 hours.
"No, Steve, you don't understand."
"You're right, I don't. I don't understand how you could throw away a 10 year relationship for a model who doesn't even know your middle name. I don't understand how you can fly all the way here and interrupt my day at my job to try to explain to me why you were so cozy with a guy who doesn't even know that you like your hot chocolate with Bailey's instead of regular milk. I really don't understand how you couldn't even bother to text or call me one single time since the article to even try to explain anything." Steve wiped his eyes furiously, angry that his tears were betraying him. "I don't understand why you would expect me to care for reasons."
Eddie wordlessly picked Steve's phone up off the desk and powered it on. He set it down in front of Steve and waited.
Texts and calls and emails came through all at once, hundreds of notifications lighting up his screen.
Many of them from Eddie himself.
"Go ahead. Open them," Eddie didn't sound mad, he just sounded resigned.
So Steve read through the texts, many of them different renditions of 'please Steve, call me' and 'I love you sweetheart I'm sorry.' Not promising.
But then he started playing the voicemails.
"Stevie, it's really not what it looks like. It's never what it looks like. You know that. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."
"I can explain everything if you call me back. I promise you it isn't anything more than a business thing. Everyone in the band can tell you. I swear. Just. Please."
"I'm getting on a flight to you now. I'm gonna keep trying to call you even when I land. I need you to know what's going on."
"Just landed. I'm on my way to you. The guys are a little pissed, but you're more important than the show tonight. I'm not doing my own thing until I know you understand."
Steve looked up at him, tears still falling down his face.
"Well?" He asked, broken.
"His name is Wyatt. He's trying to make it in the acting world and he was pretty much told he was the top choice for playing lead in a movie that's in early stages of development," Eddie spoke quickly.
"Great for him."
"It's actually great for all of us. The movie is a biopic of Corroded Coffin. He's expected to play me."
At any other time, Steve would be proud, he'd be jumping up and down at this chance for them, and he'd be kissing Eddie without a care in the world.
But he still saw that picture and that article, and no matter how much "business" was going on, it was pretty clear that wasn't all that was going on.
"So you thought sleeping with him would help him get into the role? Or did you just wanna get into him?" Steve bit back.
"The article was wrong! The picture was just really conveniently timed! You know the media are vultures, Stevie. How many times have they written about us breaking up? How many times have they said Gareth and I have secretly been married for the last two years? How many times have they tried to post shitty things about your relationship before me to prove that you can't possibly be queer?" Eddie pulled Steve to his feet and cupped his face in his hands. "I've been spending the last two weeks talking with him and the producer and the guys to see what might work best for production. They want us involved in as much of the writing and filming part as possible. And he had time in his schedule to come to a show last night, so we all took him out after so he could get a taste of what it's like for us. He's really excited for the role and all of us are really excited for the movie."
Steve felt stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. His feelings were valid and he wasn't dramatic about what he'd seen.
But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.
Eddie, who had literally flown across the country to explain in person so that there was no way Steve could misunderstand him. Eddie, who once Doordashed him soup from his favorite restaurant when he was sick even though he was in Europe. Eddie, who sent letters to the kids in his class once a month to talk about how important music is and following your dreams. Eddie, who loved him for ten years and wouldn't have let anyone get in the way of what they'd built.
Steve fell against Eddie, buried his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his voice saying something against his shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t think he needed to.
He just needed to feel him.
“I’m sorry,” Steve said against his neck. Tears soaked the hoodie under him, and Steve could feel tears against his own button down. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone until the article hit, but I was still gonna call you and warn you but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. This is part of the whole lifestyle. I should be used to it,” Steve shuddered as Eddie’s hand scratched at his scalp. “I should’ve reacted better.”
“We both didn’t treat this the way we should’ve.”
Steve snorted, nodded as he found the spot Eddie had tattooed on his neck a couple years earlier. He pressed his lips over the tattoo of his lip print.
“You flew across the country over this,” Steve pulled away and looked at Eddie, vision blurred from crying. “Just to make things okay.”
“I needed you to know. I needed to hold you. I needed to have you in front of me. And I wanted to celebrate the fact that we’re getting a movie about our lives,” Eddie smirked. “I wonder who will play you. Someone with a nice ass is a must. Their hair will have to defy gravity. Don’t know if they’ll find anyone with that smile, though.”
“Me? Why would they need anyone to play me?” Steve played with the string of the hoodie. “That might be kinda boring.”
“How would they make a movie about me and not include you? You’re the reason I ever made it past Hawkins, sweet thing,” Eddie leaned in to kiss his bottom lip. “Maybe they’ll just cast you. No one else could pull it off.”
“Eds-“ Steve blushed. “Wait. Okay, I trust you, but what were you doing in the picture?”
Eddie laughed. “He had just finished telling me about his boyfriend who lives in Italy. He’s apparently just a regular guy in finance who has no interest in the whole fame thing. Sound familiar?”
“Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”
“The picture was me asking if we could crash at their home in Italy next summer on our honeymoon,” Eddie said casually.
Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”
“I’m open to other places, but you still haven’t been to Italy and I know how much you wanted to see Rome and Florence,” Eddie was smirking.
That bastard.
“You are ridiculous, you know that? I’m over here planning how I’ll survive a breakup with you and you fly across the country to propose with a honeymoon planned before I’ve even said yes! You know how crazy that sounds, right?” Steve shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you. You’re lucky I’m not interested in big romantic gestures.”
“Damn. Hold on, let me make a call,” Eddie reached into his pocket for his phone.
“What?”
“I gotta cancel the big romantic gesture,” Eddie explained as he typed furiously on his phone.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It was a whole thing. Robin was involved. There may have been 500 flowers ordered. I think it’s too late to cancel the singing telegram though.”
“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Steve wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of that was true.
“Oh, I’m serious. The ring was being set on the bed in the middle of a heart made of rose petals. I didn’t half-ass a fucking thing, angel.”
Steve pulled his phone out of his hands and set it on his desk. “Don’t cancel anything. I changed my mind. I am very much into big romantic gestures when it’s you doing them.”
“It was a team effort. I mean, I had to move it all up unexpectedly, but this was all gonna happen next month when I came home." Eddie pulled Steve into a long kiss, tongue tracing his lips. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together. "I'm not doing this just because of what happened, but I need you to know you're it for me. You've stuck by me through failing senior year, through being broke trying to book gigs all over the midwest, through the stress of our first album being released and the unexpected overnight fame, every album and tour since then, every time I've had to miss things that matter to you because of the band, all of it. You love me anyway. I don't always deserve it, but I'm grateful."
Steve's lips pressed against Eddie's again. "I love the life we have. I love you."
"I'm not asking you without the ring. I made so many plans. Robin will murder me in my sleep if I don't go through with them," Eddie laughed. "So can we get out of your classroom before I do something inappropriate and get you fired?"
"I mean," Steve glanced at the clock. "Technically all the students should be gone. We could lock the door..."
"Steven Harrington! How dare you suggest I fuck you over your desk in a school! I can't believe you would tell me to unbutton your jeans," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And get on my knees." He got on his knees. "And suck you until you can't stand anymore."
"Eddie!" Steve chuckled, shoving his hand in Eddie's hair. "We should at least lock the door."
"So you're not saying no?"
"Why would I say no?"
"That's what I'm saying!" Eddie got back up and ran to the door, flipping the lock and turning back to Steve with flushed cheeks. "This is like, maybe three of my biggest fantasies in one, so I may actually come in my pants."
"You're ridiculous."
"Baby boy, my hand is my only friend on tour, you know that. How can I possibly hold myself back when I've got your dick in my mouth?" Eddie dropped to his knees again, looking up at Steve with something close to reverence.
"It's not in your mouth yet," Steve smirked as he tugged his waistband down enough to free his cock.
"Oh, I missed you," Eddie said directly to Steve's hard cock. "Steve, I want you to fuck my mouth until I pass out."
"I'm not doing that."
"Okay, well I'll settle for until I have to tap out."
"Fine. But it's not gonna be long for me," Steve shook his head. "Missed you, too."
"The sooner the better, sweetheart."
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haddonfieldwhore · 5 months
Text
hands to myself - matthew tkachuk
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matthew tkachuk x reader
summary: you love watching your best friend play hockey, and he loves that it brings out your overprotective side
warnings: mentions of blood, language, one use of y/n, i think this one is gender neutral? idk it’s 3am
word count: 2.1k
you knew from the start that this game was going to get messy; maybe not tkachuk brawl messy, but close. the panthers were playing the flames, matthews former team, which always made for an interesting event. while you loved supporting your best friend, and tried to go see as many of his games as you could, it stressed you out beyond belief, only made worse by the fact that he had gotten injured at the end of last season. you knew he was a big boy, and could handle himself, but watching him have his sternum broken - and then play a game after - made you cringe a little harder everytime he got hit from then on.
if matthew had thought the lecture from his mother about playing while injured was bad, it was nothing compared to the hell you had unleashed when you found out; but he knew it came from a place of love. you had been by his side through his entire recovery, and it had made the two of you even more inseparable than you already had been.
it was still early in the first period when things started to get rough between the two teams, and you watched as matt was hit alongside the boards, and he stood up covering his mouth with his hand. to your surprise, no whistle blew, even as matthew shouted at the ref that there was blood, the contrast of the red dripping onto the white ice making it hard to miss. so it’s going to be that kind of night, you thought. the game was in calgary, and you were disappointed to see the linesmen showing favour to the flames so quickly into the game. matthew skated off to the bench, still catching blood in his hand as it fell from his lips, which you could read as he spat a ‘fuck off’ at one of the calgary players as he chirped him on his way past the florida bench. his eyes scanned the crowd and met yours, laughing despite the pain it caused his lip as you mouthed “what the fuck” at him. you knew damn well if matty had been the one to draw blood, there would have been a penalty, and he probably would’ve got the extra two minute minor as well.
as the game went on, you tuned out the sound of calgary fans cheering as one of their players slammed matt against the boards, and your body tensed instinctively as you heard the crash. he stood up with no visible damage, not hesitating to chirp the guy who had hit him. you knew getting hit was part of the game, but the amount of comments you saw online constantly celebrating when matt got hurt - or wishing worse injuries upon him - angered you beyond belief.
yeah, matthew was known to be a bit of a jerk on the ice, even you could admit that. but you couldn’t believe just how nasty and cruel some of the things people said were, which is why you had learned to stay out of comment sections, to protect your peace as much as possible. protecting your peace however, did not extend to you deciding to wear a tkachuk jersey into an arena of calgary fans, and you had been feeling the dirty looks from the surrounding population all night. you paid them no attention, keeping your focus on the game, growing more frustrated with each penalty the refs didn’t call on calgary.
after being tied for most of the game, the flames pulled ahead in the third, and you yelled in frustration as the officials awarded them a goal, despite their player missing the empty net thanks to floridas player, deciding that it was a trip and it would have gone in if not for the interference. you saw matthew swearing on the bench in frustration, and then watched him lead the team to the locker room as the time ran out in the clock, calgary securing the victory.
you met up with him outside the locker room a little while later, and your eyes landed quickly on the split in his bottom lip, the wound seemingly having opened up again in the shower.
“hey,” you said, as he pulled you into a hug, his body still warm from the game.
“hey,” he sighed. “are you ready to go? i can’t wait to get out of this place.”
“that makes two of us,” you laughed. matthew was very competitive, and you were sure the fact that his team hadn’t beat calgary since he was traded to florida was weighing heavy on his mind right now.
you walked into your hotel room, matty following close behind you, as you had invited him over to hang out for a bit. you were travelling with the team for a few days on this road trip, and while you were sharing a room with nina, nicks wife, you were sure she would be spending the night in his room with him. as you suspected, the room was empty, a note on the dresser confirming your suspicions. matt watched as you pulled the jersey with his number on the back over your head, leaving you in a tank top as you folded the jersey and tossed it on top of your suitcase.
“anyone give you shit for cheering for us?” he joked.
“i’m sure they did, but i was too busy watching to make sure the refs didn’t let anyone kill you out there,” you said, half joking.
“i’m fine, you worry too much,” he shrugged it off, but you could tell he was still a little pissed about the game.
“stop giving me reasons to worry about you,” you countered, walking over to where he was sat on the end of the bed. matthew began to reach for your hips as you stood between his legs, before he let his hands drop beside him, rethinking the action. “hang on- your lip split open again.” you walked into the bathroom, his eyes following you the whole time.
something about the way you always got so worried about him during games made his heart skip a beat. he thought back to one time you looked like you were ready to get onto the ice and fight someone for hitting him particularly hard into the boards, and there was still a lingering smile on his face when you walked back to him with a damp washcloth in your hand. you stood between his legs again, tilting his chin upwards slightly with your hand as you softly wiped the blood from his lip. this time, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your hips, and you didn’t think anything of the gesture; you were always clingy with eachother and often cuddling or touching in someway.
“sorry-“ you said as he pulled back, wincing slightly as you dabbed at the blood that had begun to dry on his mouth. “i can’t believe they didn’t call anything for this-“
“yeah,” he mumbled, not fully paying attention as he was too busy admiring you as you focused so intently on cleaning the injury.
“we both know damn well they would have called a penalty on you for the same thing.”
“maybe i have my reputation to blame for that.”
“or the linesmen were playing favourites. you know, maybe if you wore your mouth guard properly-“
he dug his fingertips softly into your sides, interrupting you and causing you to finally notice that his hands were on you.
“don’t start with that,” he laughed. “thank you.”
“anytime. but try not to make a habit of getting bloody, okay? even if it’s kinda hot,” you teased, and he raised an eyebrow.
“is it?” he asked, pulling you closer until you straddled his lap, and you froze; you hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“i- uh…,” you stuttered as he took the washcloth from your hand and tossed it onto the floor, before his arms wrapped around you again making sure you didn’t fall. “matty-“
“you know, it’s kinda cute when you get all over-protective?”
“i’m not overprotective-“ you argued. “i just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“is that why you look like you wanna kill anyone who checks me into the boards? i can take a hit, you don’t have to worry about me so much,” he insisted for the thousandth time. you placed your hands on either side of his face, looking at the bruise that was beginning to form around his lip. you pushed the curls at his forehead back with your fingers.
“is it that noticeable?” you laughed, and he smiled, falling back onto the bed and pulling you with him. you laid next to eachother, looking up at the ceiling.
“no, i mean, only a few of the guys tease me about you being my personal security detail-“ he teased, and you whacked his chest with one of the pillows.
“matt! that’s not funny!”
“okay okay, only verhaeghe does-“
“matthew!” you pleaded, and he laughed.
“i’m joking. i appreciate how much you care about me,” he said honestly.
“i just hate that there’s nothing i can do to stop you from getting hurt. and that there’s people who would celebrate it if you did.” you sighed, and he rolled into his side to look at you, a puzzled look on his face.
“why does that matter? i mean, who cares what they think?”
“i don’t know, i just-“ you sighed, not sure of what to say. “i love you matty, and i don’t want anything to happen to you.” matt’s blue eyes met yours before he pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin as he held you tight.
“i love you, too. try not to worry about me so much, okay? and maybe i’ll try not to piss so many people off so you don’t have to.”
“okay, let’s not be unrealistic here-“ you teased.
“hey,” he cautioned, and you both laughed. “get some sleep, okay? and seriously, i’m okay.”
“okay,” you sighed, snuggling into his chest as he pulled the blankets over your tangled legs. “goodnight matty. i love you,” you mumbled sleepily. you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, and he winced as it stung the cut on his lip, but he smiled anyway.
“goodnight, i love you too,” he replied, and he meant it even more than you knew.
in a room down the hall, sam bennett woke up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. he looked across the room to see the other double bed still neatly made, the blankets untouched. he ran a hand over his face, cursing as he wondered where his roommate was, because he clearly had not slept here. he scrolled through his phone and sent a text to matthew, asking where he was, before he got dressed and went out in the hallway and nearly ran into nick.
“morning. do you know where chucky is?” he asked, thinking maybe nick had seen his missing roommate, but he shook his head. nina appeared behind her husband, the two of them on their way to the lobby for breakfast, when she pulled a room key out of her purse.
“i have a feeling i know where we’ll find him.”
sure enough, after hearing no response to a few knocks on the door and a handful of text messages, the trio entered your room to find you and matt still curled up in bed together, both fast asleep. it wasn’t an unusual sight, and nina smiled at the two of you before dragging to two men out of the room and back into the hallway.
“see, he’s safe,” she laughed, as the three of them made their way to grab breakfast.
“should’ve known they’d be together,” sam shook his head. “do you think they realize they’re in love with eachother?”
“you’ve known them longer than i have, what do you think?” nick replied.
“maybe,” he shrugged.
“what if they’re already dating and just haven’t told anyone?” nina suggested.
“while that would explain the death stares y/n was throwing at the ref last night, i don’t think chucky’s that good of a liar.” sam decided. they all agreed, laughing as they came to the conclusion that if you were in fact together, matthew would never shut up about you; more than he already didn’t.
oblivious to the discussion going on downstairs, matt stirred softly, a smile spreading across his face as he looked at you in his arms. if he could wake up to this everyday, he would, the sound of your soft snores and the warmth of your arms as you clung to him making his heart rate speed up. while it was clear to everyone else, it was anyone’s guess how long it would take the two of you two realize you were in love with eachother. until then, matt was content with being the guy you were overprotective of, and that wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon.
disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned
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hamiltonfilms · 1 year
Text
I dress for revenge 💋 star in nyc
INSTAGRAM AU/STORY
pairing : Arthur Leclerc x Verstappen!reader
summary : because of arthur your heart is broken you think he doesn't care about you
warning: kinda smut, adult language, protective older brother max, alcohol, Arthur is a dick, crying, mention of cheating, some dialogue from euphoria because it fit here, Horner
a/n: so I decided to write a continuation so keep reading and I hope you like it, if you want to be tagged let me know, remember that these events and characters were invented and did not exist like Dennis' cheating girlfriend <3 Also remember that English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes and sorry for mistakes but dutch is partly from the translator and partly by me hahah
part 1 / part 2
Sunday 19:01
"fuck" were the only words I said when I saw what time it was. Dennis was already waiting at the door, knocking.
"Just a minute because I'm not ready" I let him in while giving him a hug. "It's okay and one more thing you look gorgeous"
All I did was smile and went on to get ready, even though I p3, it still needs to be celebrate. I knew my brother and his bunch of idiot friends would be there too, which wasn't a very happy thing for me. My mood sucked I didn't really want to go to that club but even less did I want to feel my heart breaking In fact I don't want to feel anything so I stick to it to get drunk and feel like any girl my age. Now I only have one little case or more missions in my little black dress that's too tight, today I don't care about Arthur, only me that counts.
"Everything's fine suddenly you somehow thought?" it was even sweet. My friendship with Dennis was strange and misunderstood to some people at first everyone thought we were a couple but it never was, even though I admit that at the beginning of karting I had a crush on him.
"Yeah it's ok, will you help me with the necklace" He just smiled and got out of bed and helped me. He hugged me and I felt better again "you look really good like a bitch who will show the boy where he belongs" I turned to him and smiled too "Denny sometimes I wonder if I deserve you and until earlier today my look is revenge"
I sat on the passenger side of Dennis' car and we headed towards the club where everyone was supposed to be, I looked at the clock in the car and it was 7:40 pm I thought we wouldn't be late much, it's almost nothing. The road didn't take long so we quickly went inside and I saw our group but we had to go first past my brother's friends I felt heightened even someone whistled at me but I saw Max's overprotective gaze which didn't bode well. Suddenly I heard a whistle at me but already in our group of friends it was Jüri so I just smiled "what a chick. I'm sorry Dennis who is your companion?"
"It's sweet Jüri, you won't know your biggest nightmare in life and on the track" I started laughing with the whole group and I already had time to say hello to everyone "God what did you do with our sweet shy y/n?" Jüri was joking but I didn't mind it even funny because everyone expected me dressed in trousers and some kind of T-shirt and instead I had makeup stylized hair black little tight dress and heels which is the opposite of me but in the end I looked similar to girls of other drivers. I felt the jealous eyes not only of Arthur but also of some of Max's friends looking at me from top to bottom but I didn't care today this evening was mine and I was supposed to be the center of attention. But I could exaggerate, for example, I mixed alcohols instead of drinking only one here a little vodka, champagne, whiskey, beer or even some strange colored drinks.
Suddenly I got dizzy so I went out onto the patio, sat on the ground and tried to light a cigarette, which probably wasn't sensible under the influence of alcohol. Suddenly, I felt someone approaching me, I didn't really look who because I honestly didn't care. "Hi you look very cute" at first I thought it was some old creep but I saw in the corner of my eye it was Pierre so I tried to ignore him but he wouldn't let go. "fuck off Pierre I'm not interested" but that only made him smile which didn't mean anything good. "You pretend to be untouchable I like it as much as you in that dress" he placed his hand on my thigh which gave me goosebumps and made me uncomfortable but just in time my brother showed up "hey get your hands off her asshole" he crouched down to me and he had already gone "look at me, are you okay? did he manage to do anything to you besides what I saw how it would kill the son of a bitch" I heard a note of aggression in his voice but it was loved as much because he always defended me as needed "not everything ok but it was scary, go have fun don't worry about me i'll be going back to the hotel anyway" all i saw was a smile on his face "sure princess but if you are in danger or need to be taken away call me." it was cute he always called me princess when i was younger and took care of me. But I went back to the party with Dennis, who seemed curious as to why I wasn't around so much. "My excuse for why I wasn't that much was because I probably could have been dragged to fuck but luckily Max saved me and I'm partially sober so I need a drink" Dennis immediately spit out what he was drinking shocked as he realized "What are you okay? do you want to go back to the hotel?” I looked at him with a slight smile "give me a minute because I want to stay longer" he nodded and went back to talking to someone. "Ugh. Tequila makes me want to dance." it flowed out of my mouth "so dance with me" I heard Denny tell me so I jumped up as did he. He put his hands on my waist and I on his shoulders and we started to dance I noticed that everyone started to be jealous but Arthur probably the most because he turned red and went somewhere and all I heard was a chit in my ear "we made it" which made a slight giggle from my lips. I thanked for the dance and went to the restroom before I was alone, someone accosted me and I heard "Who the hell do you think you are?" I turned around and saw it was Arthur. "I'm sorry but I don't know what you're talking about" and I tried to walk away but he wouldn't let go and I heard something that hurt me. " You think I'm here because I'm interested in you? What do you have to say? Or what do you think about different things like you're so damn interesting? Hey. I'm going to be honest with you because no one else will. Any guy who says, that he's interested in more than just fucking you, he's full of shit. So good luck with your boyfriend." I started to cry because it was true it couldn't be "Wow that bitch can cry" it was too much I couldn't take it anymore
"You know what I honestly wouldn't give a shit what you said but I don't you act like a fucking punk then all of a sudden she's your girlfriend, she's Dennis's ex-girlfriend who cheated on him not that she didn't do it now cuz look in the restroom next door cuz she's fucking some dude right now and she was only into your brother that's why she was with you from what she said you know what it doesn't matter today I don't care about such a dick like you so fuck off" I felt good when I finally said it and left "y/n sorry stop I didn't mean to" all I did was stick my middle finger out at him and went looking for Dennis.
"I'm going to the hotel, let's see it's 4.06 am and I have a flight to Monaco at 4 pm so see you at the next race and have a nice winter break" I said goodbye to everyone and went with Denny to the car and briefly told him the whole situation and I only heard how I finished "What did he say?! what a dick he is, hey remember that's not true we all like you for your personality jokes or professionalism at the track" a smile appeared on my face. He walked me to the door and he went to his room. I had changed my clothes, washed off my makeup and tied my hair comfortably. Even before going to bed, I managed to quickly post on insta from today.
y/nverstappen
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liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others
tagged: dennis_hauger oscarpiastri juri_vips liamlawson30
yn/verstappen After Hour
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dennis_hauger cool kids never sleep, they just party
yn/verstappen of course, what did you think?
yourbestfriend what did you do with my y/n where is it?
yn/verstappen here and where do you think?
y/nlovver yass we need more y/n in this context
arthurandy/nfanss y/n in her heartbreak era!! our queen slaying icon
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13.03 pm
I heard quite a loud knock on the door which was quite an unusual thing especially in a hotel so I got out of bed but unfortunately my hangover kicked in so the knocking became quite intrusive. "What exactly can I help you with, god Max you couldn't call or something" I gestured him inside and quickly closed the door.
"yet as if you were replying or answering! What a hangover appeared" you could hear a note of sarcasm in his voice. "Get on it because at 7pm I arranged for you to meet Horner because he wanted to so you can thank me because your career may have advanced" he made that proud father smile I've almost never seen in my life. He sat down and waited for me to get up because we were going to have something like lunch this morning anyway, but let's just say my hangover kept me in bed. Looking at the watch on the phone, it was 2 pm, so it's not that bad so we'll have time to eat something before the meeting. the flight passed peacefully I even managed to get some sleep and do my makeup to make myslef look better than now but my flight to monaco was changed to the UK due to a meeting which made me a little stressed I won't say no but I managed to post a few stories.
y/nverstappen added to story
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Red Bull Racing headquarters at 7pm
it was 6:58 p.m. and I was standing in front of the office waiting for them to let me in. I felt my legs turn to cotton when it was my turn. I shook my hand to say hello and took a seat. "So y/n I won't beat around the bush you are one of the brightest people on our junior team so we thought we would offer you this project" what came out of Horner's shocked me a bit.
"Wow thank you so much and I think I'll take the offer no matter what it is." I was excited enough that I didn't care what it was and I was going to take it anyway. He explained to me what it would be like, in short, I would drive the car around New York, they would record it and present the Red Bull Racing junior team to the world. However, I didn't have much time because I had to fly out tomorrow, of course I can take Max with me because I found that he is experienced in all this and is my older brother.
"I can't believe my sweet little sister y/n in my car still in New York! You don't even know how proud I am of you" I was shocked because I thought Max would get mad that they would put me in his car with his number on and they say he's proud still.
It was 11 pm and I just entered the apartment monaco was a place I missed but I will spend here until March 18 and we have November 21 of course I will be leaving, like now to nyc. I have a flight tomorrow at 12 am but my brother will pick me up. I finally had time for myself, unpacked the suitcase, put on the laundry and then the dryer and packed up and went to sleep. The alarm clock rang me at 6 am because I need to take care of myself, I got dressed I went for a run after I came back I ate breakfast I took a shower and got dressed it was 8 o'clock so max will arrive in two and a half hours so I decided to watch some series. This time will pass quickly and I don't even know when I found myself on the plane, if this is how my life will look like now, but at least I know what max was up to now. Browsing through instagram, I came across a post and I laughed, I showed my brother because he looked at me with an incomprehensible look, all I heard was "They haven't even been a couple for a week, y/n tell me you didn't do it" I laughed "No of course not" he looked at me seriously " I swear I didn't contribute to this" I went back to instagram.
motosportgossip
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liked by arthurandy/nonly pierregasly arthurfan and others
tagged arthur_leclerc randomgirl
motosportgossip our new paddock couple has officially announced the end of their relationship is there a reason why?
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arthurandy/nforever I respect Arthur but maybe it's time for y/n and him now?
arthurfanss liked by pierregasly?
pearpierre maybe Pierre will give us details, eh?
nlvogue
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liked by y/nverstappen, arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others
tagged : y/nverstappen
nlvogue Y/n Verstappen en haar verschijning in het laatste nummer van Vogue, beschrijft de jonge Formule 2-coureur hoe moeilijk het was om een ​​vrouw te zijn in een sport als f2, terwijl ze toegeeft hoe graag ze vrouw is. Racen is altijd een ontsnapping geweest, en hij geeft toe dat het een stuk makkelijker was met zijn broer aan zijn zijde. Opgegroeid in de racewereld, zus van Max Verstappen, maar vooral bekend om haar geweldige capriolen op de baan, ook wel "black Widow" genoemd of gewoon onze Y/n Verstappen.
Begin december gaat het officieel in de verkoop
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y/nverstappen Ik ben trots op wat uit deze samenwerking naar voren is gekomen 😉
dennis_hauger I don't understand a thing but I'm still proud of you bestie ❤
user33 y/n and vogue and Dutch makes me look forward to more
arthurandy/nfan Arthur liked?!
y/nleclercshouldbe something must be up
...
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arthur_leclerc added to story
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y/nverstappen added to story
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tagged maxverstappen1, danielricciardo
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redbullracing
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liked by maxverstappen1, y/nverstappen danielricciardo arthur_leclers and others
tagged y/nverstappen
redbullracing we are officially announcing that on March 3rd there will be a new video of the junior project of the red bull team with y/n verstappen who will test our new cars on the streets of new york especially this car number 33 😉💪
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y/nverstappen I'm grateful and I hope it's not the last time haha
y/nloverr y/n driving for red bull still in Max's car and she in the new edition of vogue too much for today
maxverstappen1 I hope my car is in one piece y/n
y/nverstappen do you think i am you?
dennis_hauger I'm proud of you kid
y/nverstappen not that we are the same age but thanks for keeping me in your heart bestie 😘
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y/nverstappen
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liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, dennis_hauger and others
tagged: yourbestfriend maxverstappen1 redbullracing
yn/verstappen Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend
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redbullracing 💪
yourbestfriend karma is your boyfriend
yn/verstappen of course karma is my boyfriend what did you think
arthur_leclerc Nice jacket I guess
yn/verstappen thanks i guess
y/nleclercshouldbe artur likes and comments again?
user567 maybe they are together but i don't think so
...
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----
taglist : @vinylbycas @pospolites-blog @kazikiscool @honethatty12
a/n: wow it came out a bit long but wait for the next parts hah again sorry for mistakes and if you want to be tagged under the next part then text me.
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Note
hi i love your writing style <33 would you write a oneshot where y/n and fred have been dating for a few months and r really secure in their love for one another and at a party someone polyjuices into y/n to make fred think they cheated, but he just knows they'd never do that? ^^
NICE TRY
Pairings: Fred Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: ^^^ Warnings: mention of cheating.
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the loud music was blasting Fred's ears. there were people dancing and screaming as he pushed through to get more firewhiskey
the older years of Gryffindor were celebrating another win in Quidditch.
Fred took a chug as he went back to George to find a few first years with cups in their hands. he shook his head and went up to them.
he snatched the cups from the two boys hands and ushered them away
"go back to bed, you're too young for this" he demanded
"you can't make us!" they yelled at him defensively
"if you don't go back to your dorms I will make sure the rest of your years here that I'm still here will be hell, I'm talking pranks every day on you and all of your friends" Fred threatened.
the boys had heard of Fred and George. and they usually laughed at the pranks they came across that the twins did, and they couldn't imagine the victims being them.
they looked at the ground and pushed past the older kids to go to their dorms, Fred watched to make sure they went up the stairs before going to find George
"what took you so long?" George asked him
"came across some first years sneaking in, think they can come down here and party with the big people" he laughed
"how many of those have you had?" George nodded to Fred's cup
"only a few, it'll probably be my last, I don't wanna get too hammered tonight" Fred shrugged
"not me, I'm getting wasted!" George chuckled drunkenly, already seeming wasted enough.
Fred chuckled at his brother and took another sip of his drink.
George distracted himself by talking to Lee while Fred felt hands on his body, roaming down his sides and up to his chest
he looked to who he was looking at to see a drunk girl all over him
"hey cutie" she yelled over the music, going on her tippy toes to get closer to his face.
Fred backed away from her, the scent of the alcohol as he breathed on him made him sick.
Fred never allowed any girl who flirted with him to be near him, he would turn them down straight away and make them leave him alone
that was ever since he was claimed by you 5 months ago. he had high hopes for you guys as you'd been friends for years before that, and you both seemed so in love with each other.
Fred often got hit on or flirted with, whether it was the occasional girl throwing herself onto him, or just openly flirting with him, and he never liked it.
he made sure everyone knew he was in a committed relationship with you, he would show you off to everybody. taking you wherever he went where he get you into trouble and get detention.
he never made you feel like you weren't good enough or that he would leave you, he made sure you felt like the only girl in the world to him, that you were his world.
the girl scoffed and walked away from him when he told her to leave him alone, that he wasn't interested
George went up to Fred as he finished his drink
"I don't know if I'm seeing right, because it's kind of blurry, but is that Y/n over there?" George pointed to the corner where you were pressed up against a wall with a guy making out with you, his hands sliding up your thigh
Fred looked over and squinted to make sure it was you through the subtle red lights.
"yeah" Fred answered
"what are you gonna do?" George slurred as Fred looked back at him
Fred held out his cup for George to take but then retracted it
"never mind, I think you've had enough" Fred sighed before walking towards you, putting the drink on a table that was on his way to you
he got to the corner and raised his eyebrows
"having fun?" he questioned them but they only continued their makeout session
Fred rolled his eyes before pushing the guy off of 'you'
"what the hell man?!" the guy yelled at him angrily before realising it was Fred and ran off
he looked at the girl who looked at you and glared
"what are you doing?" he sneered
"what does it look like?" she spat
"alright whatever, who are you?" Fred shook his head, annoyed at the situation
"your ex girlfriend now" she smiled sarcastically
by the looks and sound of it, she wasn't drunk
but either way, Fred knew it wasn't you. you would never do something like this, you had no interest in any other guy but him and you liked to show it.
and he trusted you, with everything in him, he trusted you and knew you weren't someone to trust, you hated the thought that people do that to others.
he found it funny that this person thinks they could do this
"you know what I find funny?" he smiled at her
"what?" she crossed her arms
"I find it funny that Y/n went to bed an hour ago"
the girl in your form laughed it off
"you believed that! as soon as I walked away from you I came back" she giggled
"I walked her up the stairs, I walked away from her soo" he clicked his tongue, squinting his eyes like he was in thought
"I don't know what to tell you, Fred, I don't wanna be with you anymore, when you left me I came back down" she shrugged
"nice try, but she wouldn't do this" Fred blinked
"Fred leave me alone, we're over" she tried walking away from him but he pulled her back, feeling the shape of a bottle in her pocket of her robe.
he put his hand in her pocket and pulled it out
"give me that!" she yelled and tried to get it out of his hands
he lifted it up in the air and took a sniff to smell exactly what he thought it was
"I'm gonna ask you again, who are you?" he put the bottle in his out pocket
"none of your business" she growled
"fine, when does it run out?" he asked her
"why would I tell you that?" she raised her eyebrows
"because I don't want people thinking my girlfriend is a slut going around making out with fifty guys" he answered her angrily
"it's been one, actually" the girl scoffed
"alright then, well done. when does it ware off" he repeated
"no"
"do you want to make this harder than it has to be?" Fred crossed his arms
the girl refused to talk and just stood there
"you know, I'll have to tell Professor you raided his potions, that'll be at least 3 weeks detention" he grinned at her, making her glare
"so what's your name?" he questioned, growing tired of her
"Anna" she mumbled but he heard
"Anna Trent?" he wondered
she nodded her head, her face beginning to change back to her normal face
"right, well, Goodnight Trent. and I'll have you know that you will seriously regret it if you try this again" he threatened before leaving her there as she morphed into herself
he went up the stairs and walked to his dorm, opening the door to find you in his bed, asleep
he took off his jacket and put the potion on the table, making sure to remember where it was for later.
he climbed into his bed and smiled when you snuggled into him
"Freddie?" he heard you mumble as you moved closer to him
"why aren't you sleeping, Love?" he kissed your head, wrapping a hand around your waist
"couldn't. how was the party?" you muttered sleepily
"boring. go back to sleep, Love" he replied, lifting your leg to wrap it around his torso as he got comfortable
"I love you" your kissed him before yawning
"I love you more" he stroked your hair until you fell asleep.
he smiled knowing it couldn't've been you as he heard your light snores.
you were right here, in his bed waiting for him to come back to you, cuddled up to his pillow as if it was him.
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inkbyajm · 7 months
Text
of forgotten people
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masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
tropes: fluff, hurt/comfort, age-gap
word count: ~860
author’s note: this is a short excerpt (maybe the first chapter?) of a story i’ve been thinking about for the past few weeks. this is just to establish the vibe of something that will probably turn into a series. i hope you enjoy a little melancholy.
————- ❈ ————-                                         
“Joel.”
Tommy’s voice resonated in his brother’s ears. The eldest Miller was lost in his thoughts for what seemed like the 5th time in the past half-hour that they’ve been in the Tipsy Bison. He only responded by blankly looking up from his spot around the table.
“You alright, big brother? Wanna share what’s on your mind?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just,” Joel paused, hesitating whether or not he should be sharing his doubts. I mean, what a fucking coincidence would that be.
“I was walking around town today and... Jesus, I’m gonna sound like I’m going insane, which I probably am, but,” he let out another breath “I saw this person, this woman, standing in front of the barn and... it looked a lot like someone I knew back then. Before the outbreak, I mean.”
“Shit, didn’t think your memory was that good, old man.” Tommy joked, taking another sip of his pint.
That was the problem. His life 20 years ago and the one he was currently living felt like two different realities, he could have been mixing up his recollections. He wasn’t even sure he remembered her all that well, despite everything they’ve been through in a relatively short amount of time.
What he did know is that she was the type of person a kid would look up to: kind, passionate, crafty, incredibly smart and with a strange sense of humour. And while she was mature, she was also naïve, and indecisive, and petty, and emotional at times. But he remembered ardent feelings, feelings she displayed openly, without fear. The same couldn’t be said about him.
“Yeah, looks like all those hits to the head are finally taking effect.” he mumbled into his own drink, earning a chuckle from his brother.
“Listen, as long as you’re making sense, I ain’t complaining.”
                              ————- ❈ ————-                                         
The two sat around for another hour, chatting to a few people that stopped by their table for a quick hello. Tommy was mostly doing the conversing as Joel still found it a bit hard to adjust to a life in a functioning community. While the former was busy talking about supplies for the new playground with Dennis (Danny? Dean?), Joel felt like he needed another pint and headed to the bar.
It was Friday night, which meant the Tipsy Bison was busier than usual, with everyone celebrating the end of the week. It took a lot of convincing from Tommy to get his older brother to go out for drinks. He rarely ever agreed, usually preferring to stick to the bottle of whiskey he was gifted when him and Ellie first arrived. Nevertheless, Joel felt like he was finally starting to recognise some of the faces around town, which for him was a small accomplishment.
Making it to the bar, he patiently waited for one of what appeared to be three bartenders to serve him. The conversations all around him were all blending together as a soft rock tune played in the background for more ambiance. But it didn’t stop him from singling out a particular voice, a laugh, among dozens. It sounded more mature than the one etched into the far back of his mind.
He looked up from his spot at the far end of the counter, searching for the source of the anxiety growing in his chest. It’s been twenty years. It cannot be her. You are working yourself up for nothing.
And yet he strained his neck to get a better view, and there she was. Her appearance had changed slightly, she looked more rugged, more...experienced. But it was her, or at least the older version of her. You’re losing your damn mind, Joel, snap out of it.
As if she were reading his thoughts, the woman turned her head and the two made eye contact. Her smile wasn’t the only thing that had dropped as the glass she was originally drying found itself in pieces on the ground. 
Joel’s ears began to ring and he found himself backing away from the counter, bumping into a few displeased townsfolk as his feet clumsily carried him out of the pub. He didn’t even realise how suffocated he felt inside until he took a big breath of the fresh evening air, leaning against a utility pole for support, not trusting his knees to hold him up. His thoughts were racing a million miles an hour, his heart was just about 10 pumps away from officially stopping.
“Mr. Miller?”
Her voice, faint and quavery, came from behind him. It ain’t her, you are seeing ghosts. Go home. It took everything in him not to run away, to get hold of himself and his emotions as the world felt like it was crumbling down on him. Finally, after what felt like hours, he braced himself and hesitantly turned around to face his past.
It was just the two of them stood outside in the dimly-lit streets of Jackson. The only sound that filled the heavy silence were the muffled noises coming from the wooden walls of the Bison. Her eyes, those pleading eyes, glistened ever so slightly with tears.
“Joel.”
————- ❈ ————-
masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6
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theidiotwhowrites · 4 months
Text
All About YOU
Joe Goldberg x Reader
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Warning ;
Stalking, Obsession, Unsettling descriptions
You have been warned
...Hello YOU
As you enter the bookstore. My eyes gleem with interest, Who are YOU?, Where have YOU been?, Who will YOU read?, What is YOUR story?
Polaroid camera in your hands, wearing a black casual long sleeve shirt on such a rainy day. Umbrella in hand, explains why your not wet. You mumble something to yourself as you stumble across the wooden floors of 'Mooney's'.
I can already imagine my hands on you, sinking my fingertips into your soft delicate skin. Feeling every inch of you , i wonder if you would like that.
You walk with confidence, you like a little attention. Ok I'll bite.
You have this aura, some kind of magnetic force that makes me want to know everything about you, What makes YOU so special? What will make YOU the one?
You look at the bookshelves and land on Horror, that's new
In this small shop people only get the books by celebrity's but you, your different. You don't care about 'Fitting in', I like that about you
Your eyes, they tell stories. It's like I could look at them forever and that's when you walk closer and say your first words to me, something I will never forget
"Hi, do you uhh work here?" You ask softly almost seeming embarrassed to ask...
"Guilty" I respond, God your voice it's so seductive and your not even trying. Imagine if YOU were trying! Just the thought of it has my pants tight.
"Great! I'm for a book, but I can't decide so what would you recommend?"
I hand you one of my favorite books from the genre. Having to hold back a smile when I can see that twinkle in your of how intrigued you are reading the description at the back of the book.
"You know, I might actually get this. It's this type of creepy but interesting I can describe. Thank you"
You smile at me, a smile that can light up a dark room in the middle of the night.
We bond over books and chat, completely forgetting about why you were here. Why I was able to me YOU.
But our time was cut short when I get called over to the counter but before you were next in line.
"Ok, I'm going for it. This better live up to the expectations you set for me"
I chuckle at your statement while you  put the book on the table to cash
"Trust me you won't be disappointed"
You hand me the amount and look down at my name tag on my apron
"Joe?"
"Ah yeah, Joe Goldberg but everyone just calls me Joe and you are?" I ask expecting a name but you surprised me
"Call me what ever you like Joe" You pick up the bag I put the payed book in and left.
You smile at me, laughed at my jokes, I want to say you were being nice but I could tell you were flirting with me
I look down at the floor, watching your steps as you leave.
That's when I see my first clue, I wasn't your number or your name but it was a polaroid picture of you.
I knew YOU did this on purpose, it was no accident.
YOU wanted for me to find you, to make YOU mine.
But at the end of the day, people are the all the same but the question is, are YOU?
...Love
Love is finding the one, but sometimes it doesn't work out
I had an ex once. She really did break me in ways that took forever to fix because at first I didn't see the signs but with you, your different.
Love is confusing and that's why I need to know if we are meant to be.
I had to figure out a way to know YOU the real YOU inside and out.
That small photo was my place to start, not a lot of people like you.
Most of your accounts never showed your face, smart. Just one of the many things to love about you but even if the info was short I knew almost everything about you.
Your interest, your past, everything but your actual god damn name! Only your username, It's fusstrating.
And the last thing I found is were you live. It's a small apartment, blinds open you look tired....why is that?
I'll probably ask when we get to know each other better in the future.
Is there more to YOU than what's on the surface? I'll find out, I'll be watching and one day I will have YOU....
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louiseintrees · 1 year
Text
He’s An Idiot If He Isn’t In Love With You Yet
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Finally after a long amount of touring everything was at rest for a bit. So, to celebrate our new founded freedom we all went and got drinks. The band, and their lovers and a couple of friends, me falling in the friend category.
At the moment I was sat next to Alexa—who fell into the lovers category—and we both sat looking over the band. Matt sitting with Breana holding her close. And Jamie and Katie sitting together somewhere far away probably planning on going home soon. And Alex talking with Matt as he sipped on his drink.
“So, how long have you known Alex?” Alexa asked looking over at me holding her drink in her hand fiddling with it more than she was drinking it.
“Since the early years of primary school. I used to live in England because of my dad and we met. I’m honestly shocked we’ve lasted this long but I’m not complaining.” I stated looking over her.
“What was he like before the fame? I mean I imagine some things have changed since then, right?” She questioned.
“To be honest with you not much has changed. Less piano playing now, and he’s definitely gotten a bit more anxious but he’s still him.” I stated looking at her.
“He played piano?” She quizzed confusion on her face.
“Yeah until he was eight, did he not tell you?”
“No, I’ve never heard this.” She spoke looking confused still, a bit of disbelief at my statements.
“Yeah he played until he was eight and then he quit, calling it stupid and boring. His teacher was my teacher so we’d always complain about her. She was an old lady Mrs. Anderson and for some reason she really hated Alex, I’m pretty sure it had something to do with when he stole her dog and ran around the neighbourhood with it, but you didn’t hear that from me.” I giggled. “But anyway, he hated her so much and she would always give him hard pieces and then eventually he quit. But I was stuck still taking lessons which was kind of lame but that’s besides the point. When he was younger he had this big crush on some mystery girl he refused to tell me the name of, but he kept practicing pieces for her and then he planned this whole thing and the girl was, Sydney Thompson, and he invited her to his house and played her a piece and then he had his second ever kiss with a girl, it was honestly pretty elaborate for a ten year old. I have to admit.”
Alexa and I laughed together at the story.
“Who was his first kiss?” She questioned.
“Oh…well, me. We were in I think our second year of school together and we thought that it would be smart to practice kissing because we wanted to be prepared but it went as well as six year old could do and after that we agreed kissing was gross and never do it again.” I laughed causing Alexa to giggle along with me.
“I’m glad I get to talk to you, I needed these stories.” She spoke looking over at the boy we were speaking about.
“You know we’re not going to make it.” She said softly enough for me to hear but not enough for people around us to hear.
“What? You an Alex are awesome. You guys are so in love it’s like Katie and Jamie again.” I said wondering where this was coming from.
“Don’t get me wrong I love him and he loves me but we’re living separate lives, and he’s changing, he’s still learning and growing, and I’m far past that stage in my life. And to be honestly after he gets over me if he doesn’t date you I’m simply going to die a salty woman.” She said the whole thing taking me back.
“I’m sorry about that, you guys seemed really perfect, together, you were both really happy.” I spoke trying to ignore the second part of what she said.
“You guys are the epitome of perfect. And this isn’t coming out of a jealous girlfriend. Me and him already are planning a split my stuff is being packed and moved, but you guys are something else. Don’t get me wrong he does love me, but I think he’s got something for you that isn’t so innocently platonic.” She stated with a smile.
“Really?” I said confusion written all over my face.
Alexa laughed and looked at me, “Really. He’s an idiot if he isn’t in love with you yet. If I were him we’d already be married.”
I honestly was speechless, I’ve always had a thing for Alex, who wouldn’t? But no one knew that because I bottled it up. I’m his wingman, and I’ve never felt he’s been interested but her word’s definitely made me think.
“I’m going to head home for the night, it was great talking to you seriously.” She spoke patting my shoulder leaving and saying her goodbyes to Alex.
I watched intently. I didn’t know what they were saying but she was saying goodbye. But there was no hug or kiss. Just a simple goodbye and she left, she left alone. That was very unlike them. I guess they really were splitting.
And now I couldn’t stop thinking. They were seriously breaking up, weren’t they? I thought for sure this was going to be Alex’s end game. I thought I’d be standing at some venue for his wedding soon but I guess I was wrong. And what was all of that he’s an idiot if he’s not in love with you stuff. That was so out of pocket. It felt trippy. Like this wasn’t reality but it was.
“Hey.” Alex spoke taking the seat where Alexa once sat.
“Hey.” I responded not being able to focus properly on him.
“You alright? You seem a bit distracted.” He stated leaning in a bit.
“Alex, are you and Alexa seriously breaking up?” I asked softly, like he would break if I spoke any louder.
His mouth fell slightly agape and he looked down to the floor.
“Did she tell you?” He questioned the energy in his voice depleting into nothing.
“Yeah, yeah she did.” I said softly. I felt I had to say something other than that. I held his hand that sat in the bar top and spoke, “I’m sorry Alex. Truly she was amazing.”
He held my hand back and looked over at it avoiding eye contact with me. He sighed and then started to speak, “It’s okay. I kind of saw it coming.”
“If you need anything call me, okay? Seriously, it sucks when you lose someone like that.”
“I will.” He spoke looking into his glass before looking up at me. “Hey, do you want to get out of here, go somewhere? This place is losing its fun very quickly.”
“Anything with you, Alex.”
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itjazzbicch · 1 year
Text
In The Midnight Sky
Pairing: Nozel Silva x (Commoner) Cosmic Magic-User! Reader 
Summary: Finally accomplishing their dream of becoming a magic knights captain and celebrating with the other captains, the reader realizes one captain isn't so fond of them and wonders why...
Warnings:  N/A (First time writing Nozel so I hope I did well!)
Word Count: 1.6k
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"Let's all say-" I had never felt happier in my life, watching from my seat at the table in the bar, surrounded by my fellow magic knight captains as Captain Vangeance rose his glass up, congratulating me, "Congratulations to Y/N for being an amazing magic knight, now a captain of her very own squad, the Midnight Sky." 
"Yeah, congratulations!" An already drunk Yami slurred out alongside an even more intoxicated Jack, offering, "Have some drinks!"  
"Why, thank you," I chuckled, not only taking my drink but since I did have a free night, I decided to drink a little more along with them. 
Most of the other captains were just as kind and accepting, thankfully not as drunk as Yami and Jack though. It was a great way to end such a perfect day, except it wasn't the end. Not that I knew it yet. 
Only one captain didn't agree with this decision and that was Nozel. Not having a clue as to why upset me. I can't recall a time when I was rude, improper, or unprofessional around him. Maybe because I was a commoner? I have overheard Nozel's royal attitude before. 
That was my only guess, and I was curious as to why he was even here with all of us. Only having a glass of wine, maintained his distance, not joining the toast. He was something else, but I wasn't going to let it ruin my day. 
"Congratulations once again, Captain Y/N," Everyone was leaving and they made sure to say their final goodbyes for the evening, Captain Vangence making me laugh while apologizing: 
"And I apologize for my friend's drunken behavior." 
"No need to apologize. We all need a drink sometimes, am I right?" I assured them it was no issue, earning a smile back from the Captain: 
"Suppose you're not wrong. Goodnight, Captain." 
I knew that I was never going to get tired of hearing that word. Captain. I stood there smiling as I looked back on my entire life, and how I worked so hard to get to this point. Never felt so happy and accomplished, till a serious mood crashed down on me: 
"Just know, as a captain, you have serious duties and responsibilities now. Don't think it will be so easy. It's not meant for everyone." 
Nozel. He was the last to leave, walking past me, but before he got too far, I shut the door, asking with his back facing me: 
"Is there a particular reason that you don't like me, Captain Nozel?" 
If I was going to be a captain, I didn't want to start with any issues. This was probably the only time I'd ever catch him alone, so I could ask. 
Those blue eyes darted at me from a distance with a turn of his head, through that silver braid. I must admit, it was a bit intimidating, but I kept my manner, bowing to him: 
"I swear to you, Captain Nozel! All I ever wanted to be my entire life was to become a magic knights captain! I want to protect this kingdom and all its people. I swear, I have no kind of ill intentions and if I have ever done anything to disrespect you, I give you my deepest apologies." 
The moment of silence made me even more nervous, listening as if I was just a magic knight on his squad as he commanded: 
"Stand up. That's not necessary." 
Standing up straight with my hands behind my back, I could only maintain eye contact and hope for the best, but grew more nervous while listening to his authoritative tone: 
"It takes someone strong to be a captain, more than just magical abilities. It-" 
His words alone showed me what I had to do, not liking that I had to interrupt him, putting out my question: 
"Pardon me, but do you even remember my abilities? Let alone my accomplishments." 
"Is that a challenge?" Oh, great! He turned all the way around, head held high, and I tried my best not to panic, taking a breath before I stepped up to him: 
"That silver eagle that you fly on, make one for us, and let's go out to the mountain where you can see the capital."  
"And why's that?"  
"We are fellow captains now. Is it hard to have a little faith in your comrade?" Hoping my kindness and smile would charm him, I jumped for joy behind his back as he turned and made his silver eagle using his mercury magic.  
I tried to hide my excitement as I climbed on carefully, sitting in silence as he took us over the mountain. A smile was on my face when I realized that the sky was clear and there was a full moon. That was going to make my task a whole lot easier.  
"So, you plan on showing me that you're worthy," Nozel spoke while I climbed off, following me with crossed arms, "Show me." 
"Yes sir," Taking a step toward the edge we were near, I closed my eyes and felt the wind blowing past me, slightly chilly but I didn't mind in the slightest, smiling more as I took out my grimoire: 
"Cosmic magic, star shower." 
I made sure to turn my head to see Nozel's reaction. At first, he was confused, not seeing anything happening in front of him, till I pointed behind him and informed him: 
"Try looking that way." 
He did as so, able to hear his gasp being taken by the wind, a sky full of stars waving over with a cloud that gave off every color of the rainbow, illuminated by shooting stars passing by. From end to end, as far as the eye could see, there were stars and it truly looked like magic glazing upon the kingdom.
"I can do more than just that. I could summon a meteorite if I had to, make a star explode," I said seriously to him as he turned with a slightly shocked expression, "But it was already a beautiful evening, so why not add to it?" 
"Y/N-" Just the expansion in his eyes alone showed that even he was blown away by this and just to make sure that he had no other thoughts about me, I gave him our salute, admitting and swearing: 
"When I was a child, I lost my mother and father to the conflicts of this world. I never want anyone ever to experience the pain that I have. That is why I swear, as the Captain of the Midnight Sky, I will protect my team, my comrades, and every single person in this kingdom, with all the power in my being even if it cost me my life. As long as this heart is still beating, every time darkness tries to come near us, I fill it with stars and bring in the light." 
I had to close my eyes and take a breath, maybe those few drinks made me a bit more emotional, fighting some tears, off guard and a bit confused when I felt a warm palm on my cheek, thumb wiping away a tear, Nozel's voice as soft and sweet as anything I've ever heard: 
"No need to cry. You know, it's not because I never liked you or thought that you weren't worthy of being a captain." 
"What is it then?" My eyes opened quickly and his hand on my cheek gave me an idea. His cheeks turned red while he gazed away, trying to think of how to explain, finding it in the heat of the moment: 
"This is why." 
The wind passing by stole all the oxygen in me right as Nozel's lips met mine, someone who seemed to be so cold having so much heat radiating from him, lips soft and tender with every touch, that hand on my cheek finding my shoulder, one arm wrapped around them and the other around my hip to keep an embrace. 
I've never felt such passion, Nozel being the last person I expected it from, eyes opening wide as our lips parted and he let go of me.  
"N-Nozel-"  
"Pardon my behavior," There he was, more flustered than before, "I just-" 
"It's okay," Snapping out of my shock, I understood what he meant, taking his hand softly, "I can tell you're not the best at expressing your feelings and that's okay. I understand." 
That made him smile slightly, squeezes my hand into his softness, becoming the one who was flustered as he asked shyly: 
"Congratulations on becoming Captain of your squad. Your power is like nothing I've ever seen. And maybe, well, we can go out sometime." 
"Nozel, are you asking me out on a date?" I wasn't trying to tease; I couldn't believe this was happening! 
"Yes-" His gaze reconnected and was as deep as ever, "I am." 
"Well," I smiled, wanting to ease the nervousness from the both of us, showing that I had emotion too, and since he kissed me first, I kissed this time, "I accept. Just name the time and place." 
"I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow," He smiled back, giving me one last peck before I pulled away. 
Tonight didn't go how I saw it going, but gosh I couldn't stop smiling now. Not sure if Nozel knew of this ability of mine or not, I took a few steps back towards that same edge, levitating off the ground.  
"I'm looking forward to it, Nozel," Blowing a kiss and winking, a brighter smile on my face before I left off into the stars, his eyes in awe of my smile disappearing into the star-filled, midnight sky, "Goodnight and sweet dreams."
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matchalovertrait · 3 months
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"So, I bumped into Alfonso Alto the other day and I gave him a piece of my mind. I know you guys have to keep things civil because it 'looks better' and whatever. However, I don't really care. Maybe my image is all I cared about in the past, but there are more important things to me now. I loathe that man for what he did."
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"Thank you, but you really didn't have to do all that. We're trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I have faith we will all come out okay in the end."
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"But how can you stay optimistic? Why are you still nice to me? I'm furious at Alfonso, but I haven't been a saint to you either."
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"Yeah, honestly. I don't think I deserved all those snide remarks you've made. Consider yourself lucky that you had the decency to at least be kind to my children. If you crossed that line, then I would've said something to everyone."
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"And I apologize. You really didn't deserve any of that. My behavior and attitude towards you were the last thing you needed. You were just a young girl."
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"Yes, I was. I was new to this country. I was scared and alone. I was so happy when I thought my new friend group was only made up of genuine, supportive people. Why do that to me?"
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"You want the truth? I was envious of you. You had so little but you were still so much happier than a lot of people. Then, you got pregnant from a one-night stand, and I was ready to celebrate! I thought surely that was the thing that was finally going to bring you down-"
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"Really? What kind of backwards thinking is that?"
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"Hey, I'm explaining here. Anyway, then I saw what you and Erick had. The relationship between you two was still so strong despite being just friends, and that bothered me so much. Hector and I have been in a loveless marriage for decades now. I know he still loves Lucia."
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"That's awful, Hilary. I'm sorry to hear that."
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"Well, it's not all that bad.. We do make a powerful team in the wedding industry. Speaking of which, I come with an apology gift!! Our wedding venue needs a reliable partner, a baker like you. You'll bake things, obviously, but also you'll organize the cake tastings, serve the cake at the weddings, yadda yadda. Best of all? You're basically advertising your bakery every time you go to the venue."
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"Hilary, that sounds amazing and all, but aren't weddings usually on weekend nights? I spend that time with my family. And cake tastings are probably during the week, so your customers are going to have to come over here. I have a business to run."
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"OUR customers. Look, Noemí, I think it's worth considering. We'll work on it. The kids are getting older now. Maybe they could help out every now and then too."
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"No, I want them to focus on being kids.. but, yeah. Thank you for coming to me with this offer. I think I might take you up on it. I'll let you know."
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"Perfect! There's no rush. Am I forgiven, then? Sorry, I don't apologize oft- hey, wait! I did it again. Look at me."
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"Thank you, Hilary. All is forgiven.... buut I'll forgive you even more if you help me set up my store right now before it's time to open. You did take some of my time."
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everythingimagines · 2 years
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The untouchable girl // Eddie Munson
Summary: Could Dustin possibly help Eddie with his hopeless crush?
Pairing: Eddie Munson x female reader
Warnings: swearing?
A/N: back again obsessed over Eddie Munson, disclaimer I'm still not a native English speaker so please be nice about my grammar. I also hate to re-read what I wrote so if something is not understandable sorry.
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Y/N Y/L/N wasn't an ordinary student at Hawkins High. She in fact created one of the biggest dramas the school has ever seen while being the daughter of the principal.
In her freshman year, Y/N became a cheerleader and seemed to have a perfect life. She was beautiful, smart, popular and of course like almost every cheerleader she had a basketball player boyfriend.
Her makeup and outfit were always perfect and the way she walked in the halls, it was like a breath of fresh air. Until that one day at the end of May.
After the Hawkins Tigers had another massive win in the season of course they went to celebrate. Y/N had to miss out on the party, her mother insisted that she had to be home for a big family dinner because of some relatives she didn't even remember. She had been taught to be a good girl and had no intention to go against her mother for a stupid party. Maybe she should have.
The next day in school was a living hell, everyone was talking about how her boyfriend fucked her best friend at the party and even though they both tried to deny it to her, the hickies on their necks weren't lying. What happened next was something that shook the entire school. Y/N slapped both of them and tried to rip out Tiffany's hair. She got suspended, kicked out of the cheerleader team and we don't even want to get started on how mad her mother was.
And that was when Y/N decided that she didn't want to be the picture-perfect golden kid anymore. Her grades did not drop, but her style changed completely. Not just in clothing and makeup. She was still kind (mostly), but cared less about people's opinions and wasn't scared to stand up for herself or someone she loved.
That's how she somehow became friends with the Hellfire Club. Some dumbass basketball players were bothering Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson after school, all Y/N knew was that they were freshmen and complete nerds. Which is not a good combo.
"Look man why can't you just leave us alone, we literally did nothing to you." - begged Dustin.
"Yeah, Chris, why can't you just leave them alone?" - joined in Y/N.
"Oh look, who it is. The one and only Y/N Y/L/N, cheerleader to a little noisy bitch." - laughed Chris until Y/N went and punched him right in the face. But more importantly right in front of Eddie Munson.
"Woah, Woah, Woah what is going on here Henderson?"
"Chris was bullying us and Y/N hit him."
"Y/N? The principal's daughter saved your asses?"
"Is that so unbelievable Munson?" - Y/N joined their conversation.
"You standing up against another basketball dickhead? No, but judging by your shoes your high heels weren't made for fighting."
"Well, you shouldn't judge a girl by her shoes, Munson. But from as much as I know about you, you probably don't have much experience with any girl." Y/N walked past him, shoulders touching.
As Y/N was rolling her eyes, Eddie felt himself falling for her. He had a crush on her since the first time he saw her but this new Y/N is even better.
"Dude, you have a weird look on your face."
"Shut up, Henderson."
Eddie in fact did not had much sleep that night. He was way too focused on how could he ask Y/N out when ever since Andrew broke her heart no one could ever get close to her. Anyone who asked her out had been brutally rejected. Eddie did not wanted to go through that so he created his "evil plan". From what she did, Eddie suspected that maybe she has some sympathy towards Henderson and Wheeler which is good because he's friends with them. The plan was easy, Henderson somehow needs to befriend her, and then maybe if Dustin talks enough on his behalf Y/N would slowly start to like him and will say yes if he asks her out. After all, she has to have a heart somewhere under that wall she created.
"Eddie, with all respect you have no chance with her and this plan will never work."
"Henderson, with zero respect, I don't give a shit please just try it."
"Alright, I will because we're friends but don't have high hopes."
At lunch break after a lot of teasing from Eddie, Dustin approached Y/N.
"Heeey, Y/N!"
"Hi, um..."
"Oh right, my name is Dustin Henderson. You can call me Dustin. I-I didn't have the chance to thank you for saving us from Chris."
"It's honestly nothing that you need to thank for Dustin. I don't like seniors bugging freshmen it's pretty annoying and unfair."
"Yes, but still, you were the only one who stopped."
"People can be cruel when it's not their problem. Do you want to sit down?" Y/N was alone at her table at the moment, her best friend Jessica was absent for the day. After a quick glance at Eddie - who looked pretty nervous - Dustin sat down to eat with her.
"Sooo Dustin... Why exactly did Munson send you here?" - asked Y/N while casually looking down at her food while Dustin choked on his own.
"Wha-what are you talking about?"
"Oh please, when I was 6 I was at the beach with my older sister and her friends, that was the first time we were alone without parents and she immediately made me ask a boy out for her. Cut the bullshit Dustin, I like you don't make me mad."
"Agh Y/N, he's gonna kill me, I promise I told him it was bullshit and it won't work. He has a crush on you but he has no idea how to ask you out because he's afraid that you will reject him."
"Ohohoho so the big Eddie Munson is afraid of me rejecting him?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"Well, this should be fun" - chuckled Y/N as she stood up and started walking towards the Hellfire Club's table while Dustin was muttering 'shit, shit, shit" in the background.
"Munson can we talk in private?" - Eddie was shocked to say at least when Y/N popped that question.
"You know I really don't appreciate you sending that child to make me soft so maybe I'll date you" - Eddie acted dumb for some time but had to give in.
"Okay, I'll admit it wasn't my brightest idea but I was up all night thinking about how I could get close to you without you pushing me away."
"You did what? Eddie Munson the guy who gives the least fuck about anything in the world was up all night thinking how could he ask me out?"
"Well, get ready Y/L/N because I'm about to spill a lot of my secrets. Do you remember when you said I have no experience with girls? You were right, but do you want to know the reason why? The reason is that I had feelings for you since the first time you walked into this goddamn school, I kinda wished that you will be close to me somehow even though I knew that I couldn't have you. You had to go and date that dickhead because that's what cheerleaders do, date basketball players. It was breaking my heart when he cheated on you, I wanted to make him regret what he did to you but we haven't even spoken a word Y/N. I thought that it will go away, it's just a stupid crush but it's been three fucking years and you just became more and more wonderful. I try to act like a tough guy but on the inside, I'm really not. After all this shit I just spit out I'm really embarrassed so please either tell me how I can win you over or reject me nicely so I can try to move on with my life."
It was probably the first time Y/N was speechless ever since the cheating scandal, it was also the first time when her heart fluttered again with love for a boy. Not trusting herself with words this time, Y/N decided to embrace Eddie in a massive hug. He needed a few seconds until he realized what was going on but then hugged her back just as strongly. After a while, Eddie felt a drop of tear on his neck coming from Y/N.
"Hey, are you alright?" - he asked softly.
"Please don't give up on me." - Y/N answered still sniffling into his neck.
"I would never princess."
That was the start of the beautiful relationship between Y/N Y/L/N and Eddie Munson. From that day, Eddie picked Y/N up every single morning, brought her flowers every Monday (from God knows where), and did everything in his powers to win her over even if we were talking about bringing her chocolate when she was on her period or just simply being her island when everything went wrong. Eventually, with her help, he finally graduated in 1986 and left the good old Hawkins behind to start their new life. Let's just say, Eddie did not regret waiting three whole years to be with her. The sight of her cooking breakfast in his Hellfire Club shirt while their daughter sat on her waist made every single moment worth it.
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rainbowsky · 5 months
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GQ and XZ have bad history??? They boycotted him why??
Hi Anon,
This is a fandom - mostly 🍤 - conspiracy theory that doesn't hold a lot of weight. I'm not going to get into the weeds on it except to say that a lot of the claims are false or misrepresented, especially the ones about Rocco Liu.
The post that is said to have come from Rocco is one from 2019 where he allegedly says he's getting sick of seeing GG's face everywhere and basically rolls his eyes and says stars like that are here today, gone tomorrow. (However, the account/post no longer exists, so it's impossible to verify whether it was real, whether it was him or not, etc.)
And the post itself is pretty harmless. Yeah, it's speaking negatively about GG, but it's the sort of thing people say online about celebrities every single day.
There are 2 or 3 other posts that are claimed to be from Rocco, but which fans are actually mistaking. They appear to have come from the previous editor-in-chief, and mostly swirled around 2/27. And the whole 'boycott' claim is just totally unsubstantiated.
(Edit: More on this later in the post)
2/27 didn't bring out the best in a lot of people, and it was horrible for GG but I think it's best to look at it rationally and have a sense of perspective. Every day every one of us casually says terrible things about one celebrity or another. Especially when we are hearing horrible things about a person and their influence on culture.
For example, I absolutely can't stand Lady Gaga. While some of her songs are OK, I mostly find her fake and hugely overrated. Which as a gay man is practically a crime in most people's eyes. 😅
Sometimes we go on to revise our opinions and sometimes we don't. Sometimes we grow to respect a star more over time, other times we grow to gradually dislike them more.
What's at the forefront of our minds one week will be forgotten the next. Most of those who we've had a negative opinion of in the past we probably couldn't name even a few months later. This is just how culture works, especially in the age of the internet.
All of this is totally normal. One of the prices of fame is being under the scrutiny of millions of people. Some will love you, some will be indifferent, and some will hate you.
I doubt very much GG carries a grudge about a social media post from 4 years ago (an eternity in the entertainment business), whether it was from Rocco or not. DD certainly doesn't seem to. They've heard infinitely worse and moved on from it. Fans should too.
I think if we are going to have such ruthless purity tests about everyone who has ever said anything negative about GG and DD then we would have to also accept people holding every single thing GG and DD have said/done in the past against them, no matter how many years ago it happened.
As fans, I'm not sure that's a path we should want to go down. Both GG and DD have come under fire for things they said/did when they were younger, and antis love to dig through old posts and clips of them trying to find evidence they're horrible people.
Like I said before, this is mostly a solo theory that toxic solos like to obsess over. They make it their mission to viciously slander and attack anyone who they feel is a threat to GG, or so much as says anything less than totally fawning about him. They've actually gotten GG into hot water over that kind of behavior multiple times in the past, and I doubt they'll ever stop.
Keep in mind that it's in their interests to spin narratives of DD getting cozy with 'a sworn enemy' of GG. So these breathless tales of GQ and Rocco Liu being GG antis have an ulterior motive. They're a (very thinly) veiled attack on DD and on BXG.
EDIT: and I should add that this anti theory is also used by DD solos to attack GG, claiming that GQ hate GG because of all of the various shortcomings DD solos think GG has, and that the hatred is totally justified, etc. They use the fact that DD has had some high profile GQ moments as proof that DD is a bigger star, that he's more in demand, blah blah blah. It's same shit, different pile. Antis are antis, and will say anything to try to malign and destroy others, regardless of how false and horrible it is.
The best thing we can do is block and ignore (and report when appropriate). Swimming in toxic waste will mutate you into a toxic person over time. Save yourself, stay in your own lane and just enjoy GG and DD.
Edit: Because fans are continuing to push this conspiracy theory, I dug back into the topic and wrote about it more here.
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youtube
Coleman Hughes on the Politics of Race | Real Time with Bill Maher
Bill Maher: So, what's the difference, where do we draw the line here? Fighting racism and your book is fighting the politics of ra-- -Talking about the politics.
Coleman Hughes: Right.
Maher: What's the difference between fighting racism and the politics of racism?
Hughes: Right. So, racism as defined by Martin Luther King, the Civil Rights Movement, judging people on the basis of their race, rather than their character and so forth. That's not what my book is-- is against, uh, fighting. Obviously, we should all fight that. No matter who it's directed at.
What my book is fighting is this ideology that really was born with critical race theory, the adult version of critical race theory in the '70s and '80s and became more popular over the past ten years. That equates Whiteness with evil, equates Blackness with a kind of moral superiority. Stereotypes whole groups of people, says that your race is an essential part of who you are and feels even that children need to be taught this from as young an age as possible because they're-- they're born with the wrong attitude about race and it needs to be sort of hammered out of them, by separating White kids from Black kids, from Hispanic kids. Putting them in different corners of the room, as was done in my Columbia University orientation, some nine years ago. And that the way we're going to get to, you know, the kind of society we want is by focusing more and more on racial identity.
In my book I say, this is nonsense, this is totally against the spirit of-- of the Civil Rights Movement and that actually, the wise principle is that we should try to treat people without regard to race both in our personal lives and in public policy.
Maher: Funny, I mean… that wouldn't have been controversial with any liberal, 30 or 40, 50 years ago. I mean, that is what Martin Luther King said. What-- what color blind society, I mean, I thought we were all after that and then we all weren't, and what changed?
Hughes: Yeah, so, even 20 years ago, it wouldn't have been controversial. I grew up in a liberal town, Montclair, New Jersey, many people probably know it. Diverse town, where, you know, we celebrated Martin Luther King every year, we listened to the famous speech and got goosebumps, as most Americans do and really believed that, uh, and I lived out that dream, in other words, I had friends of every race as a kid and I didn't think of them as belonging to a race, I thought of them by their name and their attributes, right? Around--
Maher: They treated the same way?
Hughes: Yeah. For the most part. Yeah, I mean, there are exceptions, but the exceptions prove the overwhelming rule. So, you know before 2013, you can just look at polling data from Gallup and Pew. The majority of Americans, Black, White and Hispanic believed race relations were good, as late as 2013. And that's the year everything takes a nosedive, so that by 2021, half as many people thought we were in a good place, as thought that in 2013.
So, the question is what happened? Did racism suddenly spike? Well, no, the data is pretty clear on that, racism didn't spike, what happened is that, we all got smartphones and social media, and started seeing unrepresentative video clips of cops, you know, harassing or beating or killing Black Americans and this gave people the misperception that racism was suddenly this widespread problem and it touched off all of these trends that we've now heard about for the past eight years, under various names, wokeness, CRT, DEI, it's all fundamentally from that core change and how information is being shared.
Maher: But there was part of that was good, that we did see these beatings and things go on, because that's what changed it.
Hughes: The one thing I can say is good about it, is before the Black Lives Matter movement in 2013, cops could basically do whatever and not get punished.
Maher: Right.
Hughes: You could, I mean-- it's hard to find even a single example. Uh, you can find isolated ones but mostly cops got away with whatever. So, that's no longer the case and that's the one thing I could credit.
Maher: And they go to jail.
Hughes: Yeah. I mean it-- But on the other hand, it has not-- many people think it just revealed all the racism that's actually out there, that's not true, because if that were true, people would have an accurate assessment, and this has been tested. When you ask very liberal Americans, "How many unarmed Black people do you think are shot by the cops every year?" The answer they gave in 2019 was a thousand, the real number from that year was 12. So, this social media algorithmically boosted content has-- it's not educating us, it's miseducating us.
--
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blu3haw4 · 7 months
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So, i made up my mind to share something new, it's not very halloweeny, but i wrote it from a prompt list a while ago and Tumblr deleted it 😫 (along my own millón reblogs😒) so I'll just fit it into "the other side theme" to try and get some interactions 😌
Let's take it as 'the other side of the doors/cameras' as in, how different life is for celebrities behind closed doors and right in front of cameras.
So, from A ship and a number
Some anon, said Clexa 13 ...discreetly
Here you go, clexa fam! 💖
Also, this is part of my famous AU universe
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As per rutine for the past several month, the group of musicians signed with Arkadia Music's made their way into the hall of the hotel as they each finished their own interviews, every room on this floor was reserved for their pre-concert activities, and soon they would be leaving to the venue.
"That was fun" Octavia smirked as the got closer and in position for their team to lead them to the next room where they were holding a press conference.
"You didn't need to be that rude, y'know?" Her band mate said with a meaningless eye roll.
"Oh please, Clarke" Octavia groaned as she turned back to her best friend "he wasn't even a good guy, he wanted dirt yet was too stupid to find a way to create it, I did us both a favor"
"I wish you could've played rude in my interview" the green-eyed singer sighed from behind the duo as their team instructed them to start moving. Clarke turned to pout sympathicaly at her girlfriend, but resisted the urge to reach out to grab her hand, knowing there were people with cameras, looking for gossip behind every door.
"Ugh yeah, what's the point of doing this together if Woods and i have to do half of it alone" Murphy said walking beside Lexa "besides the interviewer was all flirt and no bussiness, i swear there was not a single question about music... no, yeah there was one "was Bruised Knee about sex?"" Murphy rolled his eyes.
"If you have to ask..." Octavia called immediately
"It's definitely not" the group responded in unison.
"If you haven't question it..."
"It probably is!" The chanted their little mantra with laugher as they stopped before a door.
"I mean, i don't see it so unfair, though... you chose a solo career" Octavia mentioned staring an argument with Murphy that had everybody joining in. Eventually, as their tour manager's assistant told them to go in, it was Murphy and Octavia bickering at each other while the group finished their talk over it.
Before the door started to open, while Monty was finishing a question for Clarke, Lexa spoke lowly "can i get a kiss?"
The door moved open and Clarke turned to pout at Lexa, after catching her question too late for been answering Monty's question "im sorry" she whispered as they all moved into the room.
"It's okay" Lexa mouthed once Clarke turned to look at her again, she only pouted harder before turning to face the press with a smile on her face.
They greet everyone as they all took their seats and the questions started. As the conference went on, the couple leaned to look at each other from across the table often, trying to make it as subtle as posible and most likely failing miserably. Clarke kept pouting and wishing she could've heard her girlfriend earlier and complaid in kind. After all, it wasn't all that often that the famous pop start, too damage from previous homofobic management, scared of the repercussions her previous contracts might still had over her public image, and straight to the public eye, asked, fearlessly and worryless, for any display of affection in public -or at work, for that matter-
Half through the conference, as Jasper was answering a question -or something completely off topic to the question asked at him- Clarke leaned her chin on her right hand, absently looking down at her wrist where four of her tattoos laid. Unwillingly to her, one of her eyebrows lifted slightly as she felt a light-bulb light-up over her head. She held a smirk as she turn slightly to look at Lexa, as expected, her girlfriend was already looking at her, so while maintaining eye contact, Clarke leaned down and softly kissed the head of her minimalist racoon tattoo that matched Lexa lion.
Lexa resists the need to roll her eyes and equally intense need to smile at her girlfriend, she licks her lips as she looks away and around the room, with a smirk of her own she looks down at her own wrist and up at Clarke, lifting her arm she scratches behind her ear before leaning on her hand with her elbow on the table, looking around one more time she leans to kiss the lion on her wrist while looking at Clarke. The couple smile at each other before looking away and inevitably staring to blush like teenagers. They both lower their hand and after a second of consideration, move them under the table as they lay back on their chairs. This very moment, would be considered by their fan as one of the biggest "mirroring" proofs of their time. -and they would be proud of it-
Couples mirroring, def: “To put it simply, mirroring is matching someone’s behavior, whether it’s their voice, their words, or their non-verbal cues (think gestures, movement, and body posture),”
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fanfic-scribbles · 7 months
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Dinner Date Chapter 28
Masterlist
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Overall Story Facts:
Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers
Story Summary: Steve Rogers has a girlfriend. A prickly, generally asocial girlfriend, but they make it work. They have more in common than some people might think.
Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader
Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense
Chapter 28: A Celebration of Life
Chapter Summary: Steve gets an early birthday present, and reflects on good things past and present.
Chapter Word Count: 4342
A/N: This frigging chapter. It took some work but I’m finally pretty happy with it, and I hope you all have fun with it too. Warning for the very end: there is a section marked ~extra~ that goes into third person, present tense from an outside perspective. It was a little experiment and if you don’t like it I don’t think you have to read it since it is slightly divorced from what this fic is actually about, but…it does hint at something that will come up again in the future. Not any time soon, judging by how much work this chapter took, but… :3 Anyways. Enjoy!
~
Watching Pepper on the phone was an…experience.
Steve was doing some Avengers stuff in the training room and he was late so I ended up waiting in one of the upper floors, because apparently leaving to chill at a coffee shop was ‘weird’ and ‘anti-social’ and the day Tony Stark got to brag about being a better-adjusted human being was the day I bit off my own tongue. So there I was, drink in hand, with Pepper for company, while Pepper was still technically working. Or something.
What could have been an unbearably awkward situation though became a masterclass in how a functional adult handled a difficult phone call. At least, I assumed it was difficult. I sort of hoped it was difficult because if this was what she had to deal with normally that was fucked. I tried not to stare, and she was far enough away, (in this giant room bigger than most city apartments), that words filtered in and out, and she danced the line between patient and patronizing in a way her voice kind of masked but her facial expressions betrayed. It was kind of hilarious, at points, but eventually her expression relaxed, her shoulders sank, and she said, “Thank you,” in a way only the truly tired could, and after a few more pleasantries she lowered the phone, let out a heavy sigh, and detoured back to grab something from the fridge before she came back to the sitting area.
“I am so sorry about that,” she said and fell back onto the chair next to me.
“Oh, no, don’t be–” I said and waved her off, only realizing that was my drink hand just before I could slosh liquid onto a couch that probably cost more than my rent, and quickly settled back down. “I’m sorry for crashing.” I could only bite my tongue so far though. “However, no offense, but Tony Stark doesn’t get to be right about anything, ever, if I have a say in it.”
“That’s the only right way to deal with him,” she agreed. She popped the tab on her can, whatever was inside fizzed, and she took a long drink. Even that looked refined when she did it. She breathed a sigh of relief. “In any case, I have most of his birthday sorted, so that’s one thing off my plate.”
I nodded. Tony Stark’s birthday would be a huge to-do– wait. “Wait.” Wait. “Didn’t…didn’t he just have a birthday?”
“I start planning well in advance,” Pepper said. She gave me a very tired look. “Do you have any idea how hard he is to shop for?”
“God I can only imagine,” I said, because even without the obscene amount of money…yeah. I had decided to err on the side of liking Tony Stark, (especially after he had that PR ‘snafu’ for going off on that asshole who had been snarkily homophobic about Steve), but he was, and probably always would be, A Lot. “That must be nice to have it all set up though. I just barely found something for Steve’s birthday.”
Pepper got a look on her face that felt familiar. Though whether that was a ‘Steve’ grimace or a ‘another fucking gift-giving holiday’ grimace I was a little unsure of. “Speaking of people hard to shop for…” She sighed and rubbed her head.
I could sympathize. Hardcore. “If you really want to get him something he’d be fine even with a nice message on a pretty card.”
She gave me a ‘seriously?’ look, so I said, “Seriously.” And I (seriously) thought about it. “Heartfelt can be hard though, so I get it. But he really isn’t fussy. Charity donation in his name? A ‘get out of PR jail free’ card the next time he pisses off Fox News?”
She seemed to consider it, but then shook her head. “What did you get him?”
I puffed up, because my gift was awesome. “Concert tickets for an act and opener he’s going to love, and I’ve planned out dinner at a place he hasn’t been to yet.” It was torture to have to wait on the second one, but it was going to be worth it. Pepper was right; Steve was awful to buy for and always insisted he didn’t need anything and I was about to score ‘best girlfriend ever’ points for at least a month. I could only hope the memory of this birthday would help ease the sting of the future gifts I was inevitably going to whiff it on.
“That sounds wonderful,” Pepper said. Calculating. I did not like that. “How good are the tickets?”
Yeah, I really didn’t like that. “They’re perfect.”
She smiled deviously. “I bet I can get you better ones.”
“Nuh uh, paws off,” I said and mimed smacking her hands away. “This is my gift. You go get your own.”
She faked a heavy sigh– the smile gave her right away. “Any suggestions?”
I shrugged. “Are there any art things going on?”
It was a sort of flippant suggestion– she seemed like a fancy, in-the-know lady, and fancy, in-the-know ladies would know about stuff like art shows. However, I realized we both understood it for the surprisingly good suggestion it was at the same time. A part of me was a little bummed I hadn’t thought to bank that for myself for another time. A bigger part of me though was pretty happy to look smart in front of Pepper Potts. Also being helpful to Steve’s friends was nice or whatever.
And by the near-glow of her eyes, she already had a good idea, which was going to be good for Steve, so I couldn’t be too upset about it. “That. Is genius.”
I shrugged and tried not to smile as hard as I wanted to. “I try.”
“Do you know what kind of art he likes best?” she asked, whipping out her phone and tapping at the screen with furious purpose.
“He varies a lot and I haven't delved into his absolute favorites yet,” I admitted. It seemed to change by the week sometimes. “He posts some stuff on social media and goes around there liking things. Though if I could say one thing, I would advise you to be careful of abstract. Some of it he really likes and some of it he really fucking hates and I have no idea where that line is.”
“It’s okay; this– I think he’ll like this. It’ll be a little early but…” she said and beamed at me as she held the phone up to her ear. ‘Thank you!’ she mouthed and walked off before starting a whole new conversation.
I shrugged and leaned back against the couch. Since it involved Steve, I’d probably find out why she seemed so excited soon enough.
~
A few days later counted for soon enough. “So,” Steve said, fake-casual as he slid onto the couch next to me. Why he bothered trying to attempt casual with that barely-suppressed grin on his face, I could not fathom.
“So,” I said and kissed him, because he really was too cute to resist sometimes.
“So,” he repeated, but slipped his arm behind me and cupped my hip in a way that told me we could continue that line of activities later. “Pepper got me two tickets to an art gallery I’ve been looking forward to,” he said, focusing again. “Opening night of a new exhibit. Would you come with me?”
“That sounds great,” I said. “Pepper doesn’t want to go with you?”
“She’ll be there, but she said she’s going to be networking,” Steve said. “This way we can come and go whenever we want. I’ve been to a couple of showings; most of the time the people there are too snooty to care about Captain America hanging around, but I’ve seen previews of the pieces that are going to be there and they look amazing…”
Steve continued to go on about some of the artists and that somehow led to lighting and negative space and tonality and I sort of lost the thread after a while but I couldn’t help it– interesting though it was, it was more interesting to watch him go off into his own little world, smiling so easily as he talked about art education videos he was watching and he was just so happy that I couldn’t help but stare at him and soak it all in.
When he took a moment to go to the bathroom, I snuck out my phone and opened up my text log with Pepper.
Me: A++++ gift giving he’s going to be excited all the way to it Pepper: Thank you for the excellent idea Pepper: I hope I’ll see you there? Me: Definitely
“Who are you texting?” Steve asked as he sat back down and pulled my legs into his lap.
“Pepper. I was just telling her she did a great job with your gift,” I said and put my phone down.
“Really?” He let out a sigh of relief. “I was afraid I was boring you already.”
“I like hearing you talk about it,” I said. “I like hearing you happy and excited.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s almost like I care about you or some bullshit.”
“Well that can’t be right,” Steve said, but he was smiling too hard to be serious. “You have a reputation and all.”
“Damn right I do,” I said, and opened my arms. “Now get over here and ruin it.”
His grin was a little more wicked for what I had meant by that but, well.
I definitely didn’t mind his definition of ruin.
~
Art parties had pretty great food.
Well, this one did. The drinks were a little substandard but I kept an eye on the waiters with the finger platters at almost all times as I wandered around with Steve who, true to his prediction, did not get glommed on at all. I also watched for snootiness but everything felt really oddly chill and relaxed and…nice. It wasn’t as fancy as I had feared, but it definitely still cleaved to the nice side, and we had dressed up accordingly, but everyone really did seem to be there for the art, which was also pretty awesome.
And then there was Steve. He mostly stuck by me as we wandered from piece to piece, and whenever the artist was around and willing to talk with him, he always took the chance. So far he had a hundred percent success rate in surprising them by actually knowing his shit, and that was kind of vindictively fun to watch. I hadn’t paid attention to the theming and was at the point where I was too embarrassed to ask, but it seemed like a new art take on classic pieces and movements of the past. Leyendecker through a Warhol lens which had a companion piece of Warhol but make it like Leyendecker. Art deco graffiti. Alphonse Mucha if his seasons were made in the era of global warming.
So it was pretty fantastic. And we even got to hang out with Pepper for a little bit, the three of us stealing away to a corner with a small pile of pilfered snacks and drinks.
“You really do find the best hideouts,” Pepper told me appreciatively.
“I take my duties as resident miser very seriously,” I said, and tried not to beam too much at the compliment. Steve was grinning at me though, and when Pepper was distracted by saying hi to someone, I threw a napkin at his face.
“I saw that,” she said, but with a wicked smirk. She then stood up and straightened the end of her form-fitting dress. “Steve, have you seen the hallway gallery yet?”
Steve and I both peered where she was gesturing; a very wide hallway with good lighting that not many people were going down now. “Not yet,” he said as we both sat back.
She smiled cryptically. “I think you should. There’s a really great artist– well, several of course, but there’s one with a piece in particular that I…I think you might like.”
She escaped with a quick farewell, and I munched on the last of the snacks. “Mysterious,” I said once I was dusting my hands of the crumbs.
Steve stood and held his hand to me. “Let’s go find out, Watson.”
I scoffed, but took his hand. “I’m way more of a social disaster than you,” I said as we walked. “I should get to be Sherlock.”
“Solving mysteries seems like a lot of work though,” he said.
“True,” I admitted.
We meandered leisurely down the hallway, looking at each art piece and leaving the scarce few people behind as we went. I remembered briefly looking down this area at the start of the night and thinking, ‘Nope,’ with the ridiculous amount of people that had been down here before, but apparently they had all seen what there was to see, leaving us to enjoy it practically on our own.
“This is nice–” I suddenly bumped into Steve. “Oof!” I quickly backed up a few steps and he remained. Stock still. “Steve?” I asked, but he was staring up at the wall to my right, his expression stricken, and I turned to see what had him by the metaphorical throat. It was a mural, massive, and it took me a second for it to all come into view. When it did, when the image of a man with a very familiar visage fell into place, all I could manage was a soft, “Oh.”
“Bucky,” Steve said in an awed exhalation. I looked from him, to the painting, and back and forth again. He seemed to be taking it all in and I had nothing I could think to say, so I did much the same. It was a beautiful work of art; colors faded seamlessly together and words of varying sizes acted as modified stippling to create the whole image of one James Buchanan Barnes, larger than life like a comic book hero, but with a serious set to his face, wearing the iconic jacket, and fading out where it looked like he’d be holding a gun in his arms.
After several minutes of utter silence, I tentatively rubbed Steve’s arm. He flinched a little, but gave me a small, slightly twisted smile. “Sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure you were still breathing.”
He huffed a laugh, but his eyes looked a little wet and he blinked furiously. “It’s…I’m sorry; it’s…”
I squeezed his arm. “Hey,” I said softly. “It’s okay. It’s always okay and it’s always going to be okay.”
He swallowed and sniffled, but through sheer stubbornness did not let go of one single manly tear. Crying in public did suck though, so I wasn’t about to give him a hard time about it. I rubbed his arm up and down as comfortingly as I could, trying to help, and he moved slightly to take the hand I wasn’t using. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” he admitted softly, and gave me a weak smile.
“I know,” I said softly. I would have kissed him if I could have gotten away with it, but someone was walking down the hall towards us, so all I could manage was a brief but tight squeeze of his hand before I let go entirely, and he visibly tried to brace himself for the oncoming interaction.
“Hello!” a breathless woman said as she approached. She looked young but carried herself confidently, dressed in a stylish combination of pants, half-skirt, and suit-top, with locs in a beautiful half up-do that framed her face and cascaded down past her shoulders. “I was told there was someone who–”
As soon as she saw Steve, a lot of that confidence just evaporated and she froze with kind of an ‘urk!’ look on her face. As the seconds ticked on and Steve didn’t (probably couldn’t) speak, I squared up and hoped I wasn’t going to make a mess of things. I cleared my throat. “Are you the artist?” I asked. She looked at me, still a little frozen, but she managed a jerky nod and pulled her shoulders down from her ears. “It’s beautiful,” I said as emphatically as I could.
She seemed a little reassured, but her eyes flicked back to Steve, who was looking at it again. He swallowed and managed to look at her, a small smile on his face. “Absolutely amazing,” he said.
She exhaled such a long breath that I had to bite my hand not to laugh, while Steve was startled into doing just that. “I’m so sorry,” she said and waved her hand, relaxing a lot more as she walked closer. “My brother told me someone was standing over here but he didn’t mention who, and when I saw you, I wasn’t sure if it was uh…offensive?”
“In your brother’s defense, no one’s come that close so he probably didn’t get a good look at me,” Steve said, still a little dreamy as he looked at the picture. After a second though he frowned and looked at the woman, more focused. “Why would it be– it’s not offensive; it’s incredible. And I mean technically too; the way you…”
He drew closer to her, talking about the art itself, and she snapped into being a professional, talking to him, explaining the piece that was part of a series on the Howling Commandos, and I stepped back to let them have at it. I couldn’t keep from looking at the art itself again. I tried to imagine how I would think, if it was of Steve, if Steve had– but…I didn’t really want to think of that, right now, in the middle of what was actually Pepper’s birthday gift to him, meant to mark his life.
Though, I thought and tilted my head to see it from another angle, what a life. To make such a mark on the world that this many years after he was gone, an artist, a complete stranger, would spend however many hours of her life putting forth the effort to try and make him as large as the legacy he left behind.
Steve was right. It was pretty amazing.
~
We stayed there until it was time for the gallery to close. Though Steve had made sure he had all of the artist’s socials, and her website where he could see the picture any time he wanted, he still seemed to be soaking in the presence of the piece itself. So I felt a little like a jerk that I was getting sleepy, and I leaned into him to try and relinquish some of the energy used in standing straight to focus on appearing as awake as I could. He leaned into me in return, and I looked up at him. His expression was…peaceful. A little happy, even, and he glanced over at me and smiled a little more.
“What are you thinking?” he asked softly.
I was more curious about what was going on in his head, but I wondered if even he knew. I still didn’t know how I would really feel if someone I loved so dearly was now being immortalized by strangers in giant murals, gone long enough to have become simply part of a story long past. Steve was here, and alive, and I was grateful for every moment of that, every turn of his life that led him here, that I didn’t want to think of the other way it could have easily been.
So I snuggled in and asked, maybe a little quietly, “Is it weird if I say your boyfriend was pretty cute?”
That probably could have gone badly, I thought in a way too belated realization, but Steve snorted and clamped his hand over his mouth as he tried to get a handle on it. Eventually he breathed deep, but the smile stayed strong. “He was very handsome,” he agreed and shot me a little smirk. “He would have corrected you with that.” Steve shook his head. “God, the two of you…I don’t know if I’d’ve survived that.”
I rested my head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand. “You probably would have been fine,” I said. “I would have been hard on him too. Sharing a boyfriend doesn’t get you any free passes. Just ask Peggy.”
He snorted, then looked abashed. “Fair enough.” He looked around. “Let me just snap a quick picture of this and then we’ll head out, all right?”
“Of course,” I said and took a few steps back to make sure I was out of the way. Steve took several shots, some from different angles, and then started to slip his phone back into his pocket when he suddenly stopped, and looked at me. “Hey,” he said. “Can I take a picture of you in front of it too?”
I leaned my head to one side and looked at it again. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Past and present; I just…really like the idea.”
“Sap,” I said, but my heart melted faster than an ice cube in July and I went to stand in front of the picture. I didn’t know how to pose, but after a moment considered how well Steve had taken my joke about how attractive Bucky was and– what the hell. I turned my back to the subject, clasped my hands in front of my face, bent one leg behind me, and threw the most coquettish look over my shoulder I could muster.
Steve snorted so hard, and took so long to regain his composure, I started tilting from my poorly-thought-out balance before he finally snapped a photo he was happy with. “You’re terrible,” he said with an out-and-out grin as I rejoined him.
“You love it,” I said and stood as close as I dared, even with the event winding down.
Steve showed no concern for any of that, and wrapped his arms around me. “I really do,” he murmured and snuck a soft, but lingering kiss.
~
~extra~
The picture causes a sense of overwhelming echoes in the back of the mind. It makes him want to break something.
He doesn’t. Someone spent time and effort and this isn’t his and this isn’t him. Not really. Not anymore. He sighs and relaxes his shoulders, and checks the time absently. The security guard won’t make it over here for at least another twenty minutes, and he intends to be long gone by then.
He should be gone now, and yet he stays. James. Barnes. Bucky. They don’t feel quite right anymore, fitting better the unreal image in front of him, and yet still he keeps them, like a familiar old coat gone too tight at the shoulders but too sentimental in value to throw out. In any case he refuses to be the Asset or the Soldier, and he can’t think of another name he would choose otherwise, and so he…keeps them. Just in case they fit right again.
He can’t wait to be out of New York though. He thought it would help, maybe bring things into focus, but those old memories come with flashes of pain, like when they were forced out of him, and he has to grit his teeth against every flinch they bring. He only wanted to come and check on…Steve. Because Steve is, was, always has been, the one thing that matters, and as hard as it has been keeping him ignorant of the ‘Soldier��s’ identity, the one thing that makes it easy is imagining the look on Steve’s face if he realizes what Bucky became.
That fight. It still hurts to think of; makes him wince. It’s better now than it was at the time though. At the time he fought through what felt like double-vision, a face ghosting over the one in front of him, and then to complicate things, the Target, the Mission, was competent in ways he had never known before; every hit matched, blow for blow, the Asset’s implacable strength against the Captain’s unyielding resolve.
And then.
“I can do this all day.”
And he had cracked in two. Six little words had broken him entirely, backup had arrived, and the Asset-not-but-yes had…fled.
But not back to his masters.
The months thereafter were (are) a haze of repressed memories, repressed nightmares, repressed…everything. But without constant conditioning and punishment, he had managed to pull himself back into the shadow of a person. And now he…
He breathes slowly, and finds himself holding his forehead again. He shakes away the pain, stands tall, and looks back to the museum entrance where he had watched Steve leave. With his date. With his partner. And it…hadn’t made him violent, like he feared it might.
Steve is happy. Genuinely happy in a way that makes Bucky nearly relax with relief, and the hurt isn’t as bad as it could be. He’s taking care of and being taken care of in return, and the jealousy and anger Bucky was prepared to have to deal with is just an empty space. This is good. This is better for everyone.
He sighs and checks his watch. Time to go. He has a tip that the redhead has not managed to sniff out yet (Jesus Christ she’s like a bloodhound sometimes) and he’s left another trail for them to pick up on while he follows this because, no offense lady, but this one is a lot more personal and he is actually looking forward to tracking this particular ‘head’ down so he can kick it right in the teeth.
Steve has a life. A good life. And he has a chance to live it now. He’ll handle cleaning up the small fries, and come home at the end of the day. Bucky will continue to take care of the worst of it. As he has. As he should.
He turns, and leaves the image of James Buchanan Barnes in the past. Where he belongs.
~
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