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flowercrowngods · 3 months

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who did this to you. part 3

🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!

The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now.

Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard.

The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work.

“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“

“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone.

Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened?

“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it.

He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)

“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?”

No. “Thanks.”

The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening.

He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she—

“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees.

He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again.

“Hi.”

“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“

“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.”

That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe.

The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again.

“What about Steve.”

Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth.

“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.”

“He… He’s hurt.”

There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.”

“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“

“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.”

Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her.

“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it.

One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall.

Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled.

It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he—

He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine.

People don’t just die.

They don’t.

He’s fine.

Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.

Eddie can relate.

Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression.

Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this.

It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently.

And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue.

But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time.

He needs a smoke.

He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life.

But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes.

It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles.

“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him.

Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him.

She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt.

I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.

But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit.

But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or—

“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today.

“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate.

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.”

And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while.

She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.

He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?

But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie.

That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.”

There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug.

“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it.

But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself.

“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t?

So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs.

“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off.

Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?”

It’s stupid. Don’t say it.

“Eddie?”

With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”

Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out.

He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues.

“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state.

“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing.

Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year.

She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three?

It seems surreal. Everything, everything does.

Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues.

Her favourite colour. Her favourite person.

It’s so fucking surreal.

He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead.

And silence reigns.

“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.”

There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped.

Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues.

“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”

“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.”

Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat.

“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.”

Tell me about your favourite person.

Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into.

And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”

She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her.

“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.”

There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication.

“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?”

Sniffling, Robin shakes her head.

“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.”

He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin.

“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…”

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now.

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does.

There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there.

He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now.

There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him.

And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then.

So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare.

It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve.

“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring.

What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next.

“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.”

What?

Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.

“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.”

That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean?

“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.”

And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse.

Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley.

Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth.

And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley.

It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing.

“Why’d you call me?”

It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson.

He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips.

“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”

Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.”

She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession.

“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?”

Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow.

“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?”

And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue.

Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers.

“What, the ice cream parlour?”

Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…”

She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses.

Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened.

“He saved your life?”

Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation.

“In the fire? Were you there?”

“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.”

Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again.

“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters.

“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?”

“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.”

“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.”

It is, isn’t it?

You’re so blue, Stevie.

She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.

Blue. ‘S nice.

Yeah. Yeah, he is.

Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look.

Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago.

He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around.

Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around.

And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait.

The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence.

“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?”

“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.”

🤍🌷 tagging:

@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #who did this to you #something has Shifted in this part and i wanna do a literary/meta analysis of it but i dont wanna ruin the fun or be annoying but hhh #also sorry if you don't like this bc it's so different from the other two but the sudden adrenaline crash will do that to ya #we'll get Blue back soon don't you worry 🤍#also eddie's mind is running in circles and he doesn't have wayne to stop him this time sooo if this feels repetitive and redundant???#then let's pretend it should read that way actually (and also eddie is an obsessive little guy he'll ruminate forever if he doesn't have #an outlet sooo)#also rambling fumbly robin going deadly still over an injured steve is the hill i will die on actually like that just makes me feral #dio words

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snowangeldotmp3 · 11 months

Note

hi hi hello ❗❗❗

this is a test to see if my asks work but also werewolf nancy has been boinking around my head all day so im using this as an excuse to hear more of creature!nancy thoughts because all of ur creature aus have been boinking around like loose cutlery in a dishwasher because AAAAA creachureee nance i love that weirdo!! 💖👍

(anyway no pressure tho! feel free to ignore or reply with a marine bio gif or smth 👍🐋🐬🐟🐠🐡🦈)

HI HELLO it's been a week and a half since this ask came in and i am so sorry BUT I DO HAVE SOME CREATURE NANCY STUFF FOR YOU (mostly werewolf nancy + ronance)

nancy's super sensitive to smells after her first full moon. she does this little nose wrinkle whenever she comes across a bad/different smell. all her senses are dialed up, and she can usually handle it, but smell is weird now. nothing bad, nothing too strong, etc. nancy always wrinkles her nose when robin comes back from family video bc she always smells like black licorice.

nancy uses her claws sometimes to (gently!!) massage robin's head. especially when robin's got a headache.

i just think the idea of nancy still wearing her cute lil earrings with her lil pointy ears is just <3

werewolf nancy is a biter. i stand by this. robin is covered in lil bite marks.

still thinking about that wild west ronance au where nancy (while she's not a monster or monster hunting) she dresses super feminine and "prissy" but it's all an act because it's really just to hide the fact that she's a werewolf (robin is a witch in this one i think. butch witch cowboy robin you are so real to me.) and nancy begins to go on a personal Journey (tm) the longer she's paired up with robin. this is an idea that spawned thinking about the trope of the monster hunter is ALSO a monster and self acceptance etc etc

for mermaid nancy i don't have a lot but (and i think we've talked about this) but i love the idea of like, a mermaid's kiss thing? where nancy kisses robin and yeah it's so robin can breathe underwater and see nancy's world, but it works like a true love's kiss thing. except robin doesn't believe in true love.

i also love the idea of like. lost in translation (is that the right phrase for it? idk) where robin gets nancy a gift or something or maybe sings a song or whatever and in mermaid culture that's considered like, courting and whatnot, so its the fun trope of one of them thinks they're dating and that they have been dating for a while and the other is completely oblivious.

sadly that's all i have for now :( but i love talking about creature nancy so !!!

#got mail! 📩#fishwear #AUGH I FORGOT ABOUT VAMPIRE NANCY.... :(#maybe some thoughts will spawn about vampire nancy soon idk #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #stranger things #werewolf nancy #mermaid nancy #need to flesh out butch witch cowboy robin a bit more i have ideas i have thoughts they are ruminating....

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weenhands · 1 year

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today i realized for the first time that i have made a massive improvement in myself mentally from the past two years. not so much emotionally or whatever but my mental headspace this past month has been seemingly the best it's been and this entire year so far has still been shitty but ive had alot of maturity and growth from issues ive been dealing with and yah. but i need to improve my eating...its getting worse and i think for the past month ive only been eating one meal a day ((esp bc of my insecurities of having an allowance w my parents, i feel guilty asking for money))

#eating mention #so then i end up. not feeding myself #and i am more picky w food lately #but yea. im really hungry and i only had one meal today...a good meal #but justone. besidrs cereal.#its gonna be my goal to eat as much as i can ((NOT from outside my house bc i hate eating so much junk food))#and to also improve my mental state #its been since 2018/2017 that my life has been going downhill rlly bad #and i feel like im finally at the point where it all went wrong like im full circle and i finally get to be who i was before #my obsessive thinking. my ruminating. my issues with just not being grounded here on earth #and ive been getting lots of clarity and understanding and needed compassion with another situation #that i used to beat myself up abt #which makes me feel happy. ofc its never going 2 b a perfect situation but i think if theres anyone who gave me perfect closure #about the situation at hand its robin from talking to her about it which planted that seed of clarity #and then. thinking of the situation all over again and understanding everything in a way i needed too #which makes me happy #and today i managed to go through this day without my brain being like. its hard to put into words but #without my brain being ocd. because i think this is sort of because of a possible ocd i have #and im excited for tomorrow to hopefully feel the same #im excited to feel better again #2023 will be my year #i need to write all this in my diary i woulr say more but its hard to put everything into words to make it make sense to #whoever is balls deep in my tags #you must fix your heart guys:)) and so far ive been doing just that. ive been making progress. its taken two years and i am making progress #ans i need to reward myself for that

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kuwdora · 1 year

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the more stressed and overwhelmed i get, the more my brain melts and my silly brain filters dissolve. so here are some more random tumblr posts. A Black Lady Sketch is back with new episodes and I was watching this sketch over breakfast and losing what was left of my mind. It's a play on Verzuz rap battle, except with witches.

youtube

and here my witcher-addled brain can't help but think the Lodge of Sorceresses should totally make decisions based on who wins some rap battles based on their magical prowess and awesomeness. Yen vs Philippa? Margarita vs Keira? Then my brain was like "but what about The Locked Tomb?" can't help but think some of those Houses would dominate in a battle like this. What other magic users from various media and book fandoms should go up head to head and rap about their awesome magic skills? Crossovers welcome.

#a black lady sketch show is so fucking clever and weird and absurd and some incredible wordplay #the sheer brilliance of these women in front of and behind the camera #definitely in my top 5 favorite comedies from the last decade #there's also these biblical sketches that are so fucking hilarious and smart #and the characters are so amazing #kuwdora ruminates #on silly things because there is too much stress in the brain #a black lady sketch show #robin thede #my posts #textpost

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eddywoww · 3 months

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I’m such a sucker for ill timed kink discovery

I’m talking about Steve Has A Hair Pulling kink but doesn’t really know it. He’s always really liked when people play with his hair but

He gets close to Eddie. Because Eddie gets close to Robin and they have a bond that doesn’t make sense to Steve and he’s a little jealous over it but whatever, fine. It takes a few months for Steve to really warm up to Eddie.

And then it’s over.

They start cuddling. Only, it’s not cuddling? It isn’t. Steve just gets high with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan and Eddie and everyone is so nice and so chill and things aren’t weird like they used to be. So Steve relaxes, splays his feet out in Robin’s lap as he lays his head in Eddie’s lap. It’s a first and Eddie definitely freezes for a good few seconds when Steve does it but he lets it happen

He doesn’t touch Steve the first time.

He touches him the second time. When they’re all hanging out and the lights are low and Steve does it again and Robin only halfway gives him a weird look. It doesn’t stop Steve form blinking tired eyes up at Eddie, watching the way he gulps and hovers a hand over Steve’s face.

“I like when people pet my hair,” He says unhelpfully, so high he can barely concentrate. Eddie makes a soft noise and blinks down at him. “You should- you should do that.”

Eddie doesn’t hesitate for long, his fingers carding through. Touching the scalp, nails catching.

It’s the first time Steve has ever broken out into goosebumps over something so simple.

And then it becomes a habit. Steve falls asleep in Eddie’s lap and it becomes a habit because Eddie can’t seem to stop and Steve can’t seem to stop him. So he sits in front of Eddie whenever he can. Lays all over him, high or not.

One day, it all goes to shit. He’s high again, head placed in Eddie’s lap. Ignoring whatever movie they’re watching in the dark. Eyes closed and mind drifting as Eddie pets him. Steve isn’t sure how his hands never get tired but he isn’t complaining.

Robin screams at an ill timed jump scare and of course, of course. The universe loves to mock Steve. Eddie’s hand clenched reflexively and he pulls, PULLS at Steve’s hair. Sudden and hard. Just yanks from the root and-

Steve feels it like a shock collar. Like a bolt of lightning. Right into his scalp, a shiver that works its way down his body. He’s half hard before he can really do anything about it. And of course he had to panic. What else can he do but bolt upright and off the couch? Stumbling toward the nearest bathroom before anyone can think much of it? Mumbles off an excuse about being dizzy.

Eddie is at the door once Steve gets out. Once he splashes his face with cold water and tries to wills away his sudden boner and WHY the FUCK he would get one in the first place. Past the whole “maybe I like guys” thing that he’s been ruminating on since freshmen year.

Eddie is so sweet to him, worried that Steve really got too high. He’s even ready with a bottle of water. It’s painful and it makes Steve feel even worse.

It isn’t supposed to happen again but it does. Yes, it does. The next time Steve gets high, he tries not to sit next to Eddie. They’re at the trailer this time. But Steve is Steve and high Steve loves attention. So he ends up laying all over Eddie again, eyes drifting shut.

It’s Eddie’s fault this time.

His fingers drift far into chestnut locks. Sinking deep, deeper than usual. Just to clench up and pull. It’s light, almost unnoticeable. But it’s enough for Steve’s eyes to pop open again. To look up at Eddie in wonder, mouth open on a silent noise. And Eddie is looking back, watching Steve with a deer in headlights expression. He goes “Huh.” Like he just figured something out, like he just solved a problem.

Steve should have seen it as a warning.

He also should have stopped using Eddie as a jungle gym.

The third time is even worse. Because they both know now, don’t they? But neither of them will talk about it. No, that would be too much.

Eddie pats his lap like an invitation and no one even thinks it’s weird. Steve doesn’t care if they do. He looks forward to these weekly movie nights more than ever now.

Robin isn’t on their couch tonight. She hasn’t given any inkling that she knows what’s going on but she probably suspects Steve has a crush. She won’t mention it, not yet. He loves that about her.

And Eddie. Eddie doesn’t even watch the movie, he watches Steve. As he plays with his hair, lips quirking when he finally wraps a strand around one finger and tugs at it and Steve’s back arches the tiniest bit and his blood drains south and he’s got his nails in the soft fabric of Jonathan’s couch.

“There you go,” Eddie whispers, just the tail end of some sort of praise and- and Steve can’t really take that, can he? He bites his bottom lip to try and hide the whine that wants to escape. Rubs his face against Eddie’s thigh. Feels the hard outline of his cock, so close to Steve’s face. Fuck. “I knew it.”

He knew it, he knew it. Fuck.

Nothing happens. Steve goes home with wide eyes and flushed cheeks and a stupid amount of horniness. Eddie smiles like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

The final time is the straw that breaks the camels back.

Steve sits at Eddie’s feet on the floor of his trailer. The rest of them are smoking but Steve isn’t this time. Doesn’t want to, doesn’t need it. Not when Eddie already has a hand in his hair and Steve feels boneless and wow, this is just normal now, isn’t it?

There’s little to no pretense once the lights go down. And the night is terrible and great in equal measure. Steve is so hard it hurts, head leaned back and eyes closed. Waiting for Eddie to give in and pull his hair again. He won’t do it. He won’t just-

Not until everyone leaves. Not until Robin rolls her eyes and huffs something like ‘finally’ on her way out.

Eddie pulls Steve into his lap and their lips meet and- and he grabs two fistfuls of hair and pulls hard. Hard enough for Steve to let out a groan that is embarrassingly loud. Loud enough that he hopes everyone is really gone.

Steve discovers a stupid little kink and Eddie gets a preppy little boyfriend.

#blurbs #kinky stuff #my fic

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eddiemunson-mylove · 1 year

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"It's Just Us"

author's note -

back again with another smut for ya'll. Was not expecting it to be so long yikes! I'm going to thank @lovejosephquinn for basically threatening me to get this done :)

I'm also going to tag @thepastdied as a fellow big titty bitch. This one is for the girlies like us

a classic friends to lover's trope, with the additional bed sharing trope... ahhhhhh

summary -

After sharing a bed with your best friend, you wake up to see him ogling at your tits... do I really need to say more?

slightlypervy!virgin!Eddie x largechested!bestfriend!reader

Reader can be perceived as plus sized as she is a part of the big titty committee, but it's not necessary

warnings -

18+ | Protected Sex (because they're smart and you should be too) | Strong Language | Reader is very insecure about her large chest (totally not projecting 💀)

word count -

5.3K

masterlist

_______________

When you woke up this morning, to say you were surprised was a slight understatement. It was the rustling of sheets next to you that had disturbed your slumber. There was another sudden movement from beside you, this time the perpetrator landed a thump to your shin followed by a soft “shit”. Typical of Eddie to immediately wreak havoc upon his first few moments awake.

He rustled some more, no doubt trying to stretch his limbs from the uncomfortable position he had left himself in last night. You, however, had yet to open your eyes and welcome in the golden morning light. You just lay completely still, ruminating on the events that had led you here to be kicked in the shin and perspiring from the additional body heat radiating from your best friend.

_______________

The night before…

Steve was to be the last out of the door. With a quick turn to the two of you as he pointed with a stern look to Eddie, “Look after her, you hear? Get home safe doll,” he directs to you with a wink and shoots off into the night.

Eddie had hosted another successful evening of drinking and catching up with his friends, now ultimately yours too. The trailer held just enough space for yourself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, and Robin to be seated. Going back and forth with one another with little updates about each other's lives. These kinds of meet ups were rare and cherished, all of you working steady jobs which resulted in time for you all to be together at once. But having known each other from school, their bond would always prevail. You’d hoped that you could get to that point with them all too.

You and Eddie had been friends for just a short while now. You had moved to Hawkins the year prior and he had been one of the first to grace your presence when the long move had kicked your car in indescribable ways. He began taking overtime to work on your lump of metal and even offered to drive you places in the beginning, though you would regretfully decline. Things escalated when you would spot him around town running errands. Sporadic meetings turned into coffee trips, turning into days out together, turning into being invited into his close group of friends. The last year has been nothing short of a dream, and Eddie has been there to encourage you and envelop you in light and laughter.

As Eddie closed the door behind Steve, he twisted his waist and clasped his hands together, “Nightcap before you go, sweets?” His grin was wicked but you know there was no malice, only mischief and a desire to keep you here longer.

“Only if I’m pouring Munson,” you clap back, “I’d actually like to wake up again in the morning.” you gave him the most exaggerated wink that you could muster, emphasised further with a pair of finger guns before plodding off into his kitchenette to find clean glasses. He followed you of course. You noticed that he did that from almost the moment the two of you met, like a lost puppy. Although you were the one that felt kind of lost when he didn’t do it.

One drink quickly became two as you began to share your fond memories of your first encounter. Two became three when you both elaborated on your in depth plans for the future, of course, including each other. You lost count after four. Your shared recollections had only catalysed a trip down memory lane, telling wild stories from high school and various adventures that you had both been on and how you wished the other could have been there too.

It was clear that neither of you were in a fit state to drive. And when a passing glance to the clock that read 2:06 had confirmed your suspicions that a taxi wasn’t going to be an option, you knew you were staying the night. Neither of you were the first to admit it. Although there was evidently a shared understanding after reminiscing about the amount of whiskey Robin had oh-so-graciously spilt over the couch in her final hour here. You were definitely sharing a bed tonight. Neither of you were against the idea. It was just a new boundary in your relationship that was going to be crossed. Friends share beds. It didn’t have to invoke such a reaction in your chest, matched with the heat rising to your cheeks. But it did nonetheless…

The whole ordeal had been awkward beyond belief. Eddie fumbling around with his duvet and clearing the one side of his bed to get rid of the collection of washing (clean or dirty? You didn’t dare ask), before he sprawled himself like a starfish across the expanse of the mattress with a high-pitched giggle to himself. You stood hesitantly in the doorway to Eddie’s bedroom, nervous at the idea of being forced into such close proximity. You suppose you could consider yourself almost afraid. Afraid that you’d become self-indulgent in the situation. That you would internalise the night too much, only to be let down when he would reinforce the friendzone card.

Too caught up in your tangle of thoughts, you hadn’t noticed that Eddie had rolled over to await your own drop onto the bed only to see that you’d stood paralysed. He shuffled himself into a seated position on the edge of the bed and peared up at you.

“Hey, where’d you go just now?” his voice was almost silent, the soft whisper lulling you gently from your trap.

“No. Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head, “just zoned out”.

He was standing up now, making his way to you slowly. Both hands had raised up to grip your upper arms delicately. Eddie stooped his head slightly to match your eye level. You too could see a flicker of nerves in his eyes.

“It’s just me, sweets. It’s just us,” he beams, “I won’t bite… unless you want me to.” Finishing his little pep talk with a wink and a nudge to your shoulder with his fist. After a deep roll of your eyes and a tired smile, you went to the bathroom to remove the majority of your clothes for bed.

Left in only your cami top from beneath your shirt and your panties, you took one final look in his stained mirror. Going braless had taken a considerable amount of convincing, ultimately choosing your own comfort rather than Eddie’s. Sure, you figured your current outfit would have him stoic enough. But you didn’t want to be the cause of his death when visible nipples became involved. Having to once again pull away from your thoughts, your feet pattered back to his room, you find him deep into dreamland anyways. An inevitable effect that alcohol had on Eddie. At least you wouldn’t have to face the awkwardness of explaining that you don’t tend to bring pyjamas with you to any and all occasions.

With just enough space left for you to crawl onto your side of the bed that he had barely left you, you pull the covers over the two of you and place your head on his embarrassingly flat pillows. You were facing each other now, and this gave you a chance to admire your closest friend while he was at his most peaceful. You already knew that you had feelings for Eddie, you weren’t oblivious to this. But to replace the friendship you had with the risk of something more just didn’t appeal to you. You loved him too much to lose him. So with a weak hand reaching up to brush a stray curl out of his face, and a soft “night,” you closed your own eyes and let Eddie’s even breaths lull you into unconsciousness.

_______________

Adjusting your eyes until they were just open a slither, you’re met with Eddie facing you. Well, his body was facing you, but the slight tilt of his chin tucked into his chest and the lack of eye contact made it clear that his focus was elsewhere. You were by no means naive. You knew exactly what he was looking at without even having to follow his line of sight.

You had always been a larger-chested girl. You started growing boobs from a younger age than most around you and they never seemed to stop growing until you’d reached your later teen years. You never missed how certain shirts wouldn’t fit you right and how dresses would bunch up if they had chest seams. But you certainly never missed how people would stare. Not even just men, anybody. The non-stop gawking if you were to wear a lower neckline, their eyes flickering from your chest to your face when you wore a tight-fitted outfit. You’d made peace with it, accepted that it’d never change. You can’t say that you were overly shocked to find Eddie in the exact same position, he was only human after all.

The thing that had surprised you had been the barely-there grin. The fondness in his expression. Almost as though he was gazing in admiration, rather than the pity or the condescension you were used to. The way his lashes fluttered as he grappled between needing to blink but wanting to stare just that little bit longer. A gentle hum escapes his lips as the corners of his mouth twitch upwards some more.

You huff a small chuckle, your own lips beaming in amusement as his head snaps up to meet you. Horror engulfs his face and his eyes, you think, couldn’t possibly widen any more. You wait for his defense, for his panicking, for his justification. But you’re met with only silence. Silence, and the look of pure dread.

“Mornin’,” you smirk at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “Enjoying the view I see. You’re acting like you’ve never seen tits before” you add after a pause, fueling the fire.

You were wrong. His eyes widened even more…

You won’t deny that there had always been a certain tension between the two of you. Not something you could quite put your finger on but the realisation was always just stuck on the tip of your tongue. You recognised it in the flirtatious banter that you shared, leading many to believe you were a couple. You perceived it in the prolonged touches, the longing stares that both parties were guilty of. But you had always been just… friends. You believed that your feelings for him were rooted in the want for attention, to be somebody’s favourite person. It had only been recently that you felt it blossom into more. Your only dilemma was whether Eddie returned these feelings.

But with him now shamefully caught ogling at your chest, you at least knew that he was definitely interested in a part of you. You began to snort a laugh at him, rolling slightly onto your back to direct your laughter away from his face into the void air of his room. Going back to face him once again, you’re met with an exaggerated pout as he grumbles out, “It’s not funny”.

You’d calmed down very quickly when you saw just how defeated he had become. His expression was crestfallen, and you’d berated yourself for thinking you’d pushed him too far. Tracing your steps back to when you could have elicited such a gloomy response from him, you suddenly drew in a sharp breath, cringing slightly at the words getting ready to leave your lips.

“Eds… you have seen tits before right?” It seemed like such a dumb question in retrospect, but you had realised in this moment that you had never seen Eddie with another girl that wasn’t Nance or Rob. And that he had never mentioned girlfriends tonight whilst you droned on about the trials and tribulations of school.

He playfully scoffs at you, “Of course I’ve seen tits before. Like, maybe. Just, like, not in real life,” he admits, defeated. It’s at this new piece of exclusive Eddie-lore that you have a lightbulb moment. Clearly he was interested in your rack, and you were interested in him. It seemed like a win-win in the first instance. You could show Eddie your tits, and then he’d fall head over heels for you!

Okay, definitely a tad far-fetched. But this was your one shot. You’d never had an opportunity to express how you felt to him before and while this method was highly unconventional, it was worth a shot. Which is what led you to vocalise,

“I could show you them, if you’d like?” you ask, more timidly than you had intended. Eddie deadpanned, awaiting the punch line. But once he saw your expression was that of sincerity rather than sarcasm, he was quick to splutter his words.

“Shit! Umm, are you sure?” he asks, “I mean yeah, that’d be great an’ all, but like, for real?” clearing his throat and trying to maintain a casual demeanor, he eagerly awaited your reply.

“Sure Eds. I don’t mind, really. As your best friend I would be honoured,” you assert with a lighthearted giggle. You don’t miss the slight wince in his face once you’d pulled out the friend card. It further fueled your hope for the future.

“Well then, as you are being so generous and noble, it is I who would be honoured,” he announced in his best medieval knight voice. The two of you broke into a fit of laughter, both feeling slightly delirious at the proposition laid out before you. That same proposition was also the reason the laughter dies down as quickly as it started and the room began to feel more silent, more serious. You’re the first to start speaking again,

“Hey, umm… before I do this, I just wanted to let you know,” you began fumbling your words in shame, “boobs don’t… look how you may think they do. Especially not like your magazines.” you finished with a tight inhale. One side of your mouth twitched upward to produce a defeated grin.

“But boobs are just… boobs?” You could see the genuine confusion flash across his features with his reply. His response only pulled a sigh from you.

“Yes. But you see, they get past a certain size and everything just sort of… falls apart?” you attempt. You’re met with no response, his silence urging you to elaborate. “Like, gravity obviously plays a big part in their demise. They’re heavy, and I mean heavy, Eddie. And because of how they fall, how they just drop down, everything is sort of… stretched out. You can see all of the imperfections, all of the pores, the spots and blemishes. And it never ends. They will never be like those blonde pin-up girls in your crusty magazines because they are not real. Real life only leads to disappointment…”

With one final push of air from your lungs you finish your speech with, “You’re more than welcome to see your first pair of real tits Eddie, but I know it’ll only end in you wishing you’d saved yourself the trouble.”

You could see that Eddie’s eyes had glossed over. You knew he had a hard time with you putting yourself down when he cared so much for you. Yet he said nothing. He just stared, directly into your eyes, as though he’d only been allowed to for the first time. With the quilt rustling again, you didn’t have time to see Eddie’s hand. You had only felt it as it made contact with your cheek, his thumb brushing your cheekbone timidly. And that was when he had spoken,

“Hey…,” his smile was gentle, his eyes were even softer, “It’s just me”

And you believe then that you know he would never judge you. Of course he wouldn’t. He wasn’t capable.

“It’s just you,” you parrot back to him, your lips finally turning up once again. He pushes out a soft chuckle from the very back of his throat as his hand comes around for his pinky to flick against the tip of your nose lightly.

“It’s just us, princess…”

That was the final encouragement. You were being silly, you thought. They are just boobs perhaps, as you reach to pull at one strap. You were just simply doing a favour for your closest friend, you justify as one arm is free from its constraints. He seemed to like them enough to gawk at them, you reason with yourself, as you begin to unceremoniously tug at the second strap from underneath you. As you whittled the strap down your arm, the fabric that had previously been shielding your modesty had peeled from your chest and your top had now bunched around your waist.

With Eddie’s focus still maintained on your face, you quickly glanced down to make any adjustments that could be deemed unsightly before peering back up to him and giving him a barely visible nod; he had seen it though. As his attention swiftly flicked back into the position you had caught him in barely 10 minutes ago, you kept your eyes on his face, desperately trying to read any facial expression or slight muscle ticks that could indicate any distaste from the man you were so eager to impress.

He retracted his hand from your cheek and began to shuffle backwards in an attempt to gauge a wider field of view for the gifts you had presented to him. The excitement he exudes was impossible to miss. Almost like a child being told to pick out a new toy of choice. His eyes darted between the pair laid out before him. Like you had explained, your boobs had gravitated more towards the mattress and drooped over your bottom arm rather than sat in the centre of your chest, much like how you imagined Eddie had expected them to be. But there was no indication that he seemed to mind as his tongue darts out to caress over his top lip, his eyes blown in bewilderment.

The sudden change in temperature after being freed from your top had hardened your nipples, making them look slightly more ‘normal’ looking than their usual flattened out state. Eddie’s hand that had previously graced your cheek was now laying flat against the bed between your two bodies, his fingers jolting and twitching slightly. You knew what your next move had to be.

“You can touch them, if you’d like?” you voice, sounding more like a small squeak than actual words. Your nerves had sent a fresh sheet of goosebumps over your skin, your nipples still peaked and aching slightly against the draft in Eddie’s room. His eyes meet your instantly, once again widening as though he was seeking your definitive permission before he gets ahead of himself.

“Are you sure?” followed by an audible gulp, “I mean, I’d love to but… you don’t have to do that”

He was so careful with his actions and his gazes that you knew you’d have to instigate anything further. Lifting your hand to grasp at his wrist that lay on the bed, you slowly spread out his palm and pressed your chest up more before placing his hand directly over the centre of your breast. A sigh of relief that you were not aware you were keeping escaped your lips in the same instance that a croaky groan left Eddie’s, the two harmonising together in perfect synchrony.

The tips of his fingers start to explore the sides of your boob, tracing shapes lightly along the thinner skin there. Allowing his fingers to prod experimentally, he gains enough confidence after a few moments to give his first delicate squeeze. While the action itself was miniscule, it was still enough to elicit a small whimper from you, causing Eddie’s eyes to once again return to yours. With his lips quivering slightly to suppress his satisfaction, his next squeeze was significantly firmer. You watched as, almost in slow motion, the fat of your breast buldged through the gaps of this fingers. Eddie seemed to watch this too, his only reaction being a low “oh, fuck…”

You huffed out a small chuckle before responding, “Everything you expected them to be?” He began to nod vigorously, his curls rubbing against his pillow. Watching his irises dance across your chest had induced many feelings. The most surprising feeling being safety. You knew that in this moment, you could rely on Eddie for anything. He would be cure to all ailments, the cause of all of your laughter. He held the key to your heart, and you knew that he would guard that key with his life. The realisation brings a fond smile to your face. The strongest feeling, however, was enough to wipe the smile straight off your face. That feeling that could not be mistaken for anything else…

You wanted him. You wanted Eddie Munson, your best friend. You desired him, longed for him… burned for him. And just as these revelations had made themselves apparent, Eddie had gently swiped a thumb across your peaked bud causing you to shudder. No, you didn’t want him, you needed him. With your mind now clouded with lust, you reach up a hand to cradle the side of his face, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb. You needed to approach this right. Needed to make absolutely sure that you hadn’t read it wrong, that the line was worth crossing. And as Eddie slowly shifted his gaze to meet yours, his eyes completely blown out and hazy with what you could only recgnise as lust, you had all the confirmation you needed.

But before you could even process what your next move would be, Eddie had already lunged forward and forcefully connected your lips together. You let out a sudden gasp before fervently reciprocating the kiss. His lips were warm, soft. Of course he had to mock you with having the perfect pillowy lips at a moment's notice. Eddie had opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, but had not yet made any intrusion into your own, just enjoying the moment wholly before he could over-extend his actions. You on the other hand had wanted him to push the boundaries; wanted him to explore your mouth, leaving no corner unsearched. Deciding to test the waters you jabbed your tongue into the tip of his, earning yourself a raspy moan, the vibrations making you exert your own breathy whine.

As your tongues danced with one another in perfect cadence, Eddie’s hand that had previously found home on your breast had now slid its way to snake around your waist. Giving it a slight squeeze, he wraps his arm around you to satisfy his only mission of pulling you flush against his body. As your chest collided with his own, noting to yourself that he hadn’t even bothered changing out of his Slayer shirt and sweats from last night's gathering, a deep guttural groan erupted from his chest. You broke the kiss to meet his eyes, swooning at the closer proximity between the two of you.

“You okay there handsome?” you tease, trying to egg on his newfound confidence. It had seemed to work as he mumbled back to you,

“I’ve just always wanted to know how it felt to have the most perfect tits pressed against me,” he rasps out, “so thank you, Sweets”

Rolling your eyes at his dramatic antics, you playfully retort, “God Eds you make yourself sound like such a virgin.” Feeling brave, you decide to hook your thigh over his hips in order to further reduce any remaining space between you. And that’s when you feel it. You feel just how much of an effect your boobs had had on your best friend. You feel just how much Eddie had needed this too. How he yearned for it… ached for it.

He hissed quietly at the contact, one corner of his now swollen lips turning up slightly. With a bit more courage of his own he goaded to you, “If you want me to stop sounding like a virgin so much… then why don’t you change that?”

Plunging straight back into an impassioned kiss, you shift slightly to be able to wrap both arms around his neck, pulling his face impossibly closer as though any slight distance would rip him away from you. With his arm still tucked snug around the expanse of your back, he swiftly rolls onto his back and takes you with him, leaving you laying on top of his frame. Your hips had already unconsciously decided to grind against his crotch, the friction proving to be delicious for the both of you. You lost yourself in the kiss, delving deeper and deeper as though you sought to drown. Alas, you had to force your mind to swim back to the surface, breaking the kiss to ascertain clarity of the situation.

“Eddie, are you sure about this? Is this really what you want to do?” you question. Ending this now would be a devastating outcome. But it would be necessary if there was a possibility that he was unsure, in order to salvage your friendship, if that’s what this still was. He sits up abruptly and shuffles slightly up on the bed to lean across the headboard, taking your body with his as though that was what they were designed to do.

“You're kidding right?” he deadpans, “Fuck yeah, this is what I wanna do! Can’t you feel how insane you’re making me?” You chuckle at that and nod, giving your hips a mischievous wiggle, producing a short exhale from him. He continues, “There is no one else that I could even consider sharing this moment with. Me. You. This… it just makes sense.”

He’s staring straight into your eyes now. The deep brown orbs unravel the very last of your previous reservations. And he maintains his eye contact as he removes his arms from your waist to pry his shirt from his skin that had collected a slight sheen from the anticipation. You didn’t see where his shirt went and neither did he, both of you lost in each other's gaze. Your own hands reach down to find the hem of his sweats, hooking your fingers at his hips and tugging them down along with his boxers until they sit just behind you, collected around his mid thighs.

Breaking the stare, you peer downwards in an attempt to see what you’d be dealing with. You were impressed to say the least. Sure, it wasn’t gonna win any awards, but it was definitely the biggest out of what you’d dealt with before. Enough to make your walls clench around empty space. Enough to make your mouth salivate. Sitting pretty against his abdomen, encased in a thatch of curls. You could see that it was waiting for your next move, twitching at the anticipation.

Quickly glancing up to his face and seeing his confident persona falter slightly, you leaned up to press a chaste kiss to his lips before lowering yourself over the shaft, rocking your hips slowly to create a delectable friction. Eddie was quick to whine out at the feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing salaciously against his bare cock. With your forehead pressed to his, you quickly found your rhythm, each rock of your hips making you pant and whimper at the feeling of him rock hard against your swollen clit.

His hands suddenly shoot to your hips to halt your movements before pleading out, “Please, sweetheart. I can’t take all of this… need to be inside of you, please” The final plea was pathetic, sounding truly fucked out before anything had really begun. Normally you’d be inclined to tease and torture him some more, to use him for your own pleasure. But this was Eddie. Your Eddie. And so it was only right for you to heed his request on demand.

“Do you have a condom?” you inquire, raising your brows slightly to ephasise the urgency.

“Yeah, uhhh shit hang on,” he reaches to his far right to impatiently yank his top drawer open and fiddled with the unopened box before pulling one out and grinning as though he’d just struck gold. Taking the foil from him, you’re brisk in tearing it open and pinching the tip before wrapping a hand around his shaft to begin rolling it down. He whimpers and hisses at the minimal contact, earning an inquisitive look from you.

“What?! It feels good,” he exasperates, “You’re literally touching my dick”

With a light snort you quip, “God baby, you really have no idea…” You admire the way the pet name brings heat to his cheeks, dusting them pink. Lifting yourself gently with your knees, you use your free hand to swipe your panties to the side whilst lining him up with your other hand still grasped around him. Alerted by a quivering exhale from below you, you pause right on the precipice to smile at the beautiful man.

“Hey… it’s just me,” you mirror from earlier, hoping the phrase could provide him with some comfort, “okay? It’s just us” you finish. Waiting for his curt nod as an acceptance, you slowly lower yourself onto him, the stretch immediately welcomed by your fluttering walls. You had let out an elongated hum the further you sank down, whilst Eddie sang a string of curses at the brand new sensations.

Once you had bottomed out you left little time to adjust for the both of you, your need becoming all-encompassing. You’re quick to lift yourself again, stopping to drop back down sharply once almost at the tip.

“Oh my… fuck. Shit, okay” Eddie had become the shell of a man, losing himself completely in the feeling. With a steady pace, not too slow to cause frustration but not too quick to overwhelm him, you begin to bounce. Eddie’s half-lidded eyes were level with your tits, lazily watching them jolt with your movements, his jaw slack. All that could be heard was the slap of your breasts against your chest as well as your arse on Eddie’s hips, and his pitiful moans.

“Ahh, shit I won’t last sweets,” he mutters out, his words slurred in his pussydrunk state.

You slam your hips into his as hard as you could, relishing in the strangled cry of the broken man before you, before once again grinding your hips to meet that delicious friction of your clit against his thick patch of hair. The sensations cause your walls to flutter and grip his cock sporadically, in turn making Eddie whine with each breath he takes.

With this new motion, along with the pathetic display below you, your high was fast approaching. You opted for a combo of grinding your hips together whilst also lifting slightly for Eddie to feel the insatiable drag through your erratically clenching pussy. Feeling his hips begin to thrash up to desperately chase his high, you feel your own suddenly crash through your entire body. The rhythmic pulsing sends Eddie over the edge with you, gripping your hips like a vice as he yells out his strained groans, his voice significantly dropping a few octaves.

With your body going limp against his, you’re only able to muster up enough movement to press an ardent kiss to his jaw before tucking your face into his neck, his curls sticking to your face. Feeling a peck placed on your crown, you’re able to shift your head back slightly so that you’re still leaning on his shoulder, but this time able to gaze at his face. His own face meets yours in the middle. The two of you stay like that for a while, taking in the details of each other’s faces. Eddie is the one who breaks the silence,

“Sooooooo… your tits are nice,” he grins cheekily as his eyebrows wiggle at you. Your eyes immediately widen as you gather the strength to swat at his other shoulder tiredly, but still giggle along at his behaviour,

“Eddie Munson, you really are insufferable”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #joe quinn

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rebouks · 2 months

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Brodie Sampson was a foreboding man, but he somewhat reminded Robin of his father; tough and weathered on the outside, with a soft, gooey centre reserved for those who knew him closely. His voice was gruff when he finally decided to speak.

“I thought I told you not to wander off-.. and who is this?”

Alex rolled her eyes, resenting the way her father constantly scolded her for leaving the watchtower, despite the fact that he left for hours and hours every day.

“I was bored, and this is Robin-.. but he can’t talk.”

Brodie scoffed, “That’s convenient.”

“He’s fun and nice, don’t stress over it-.. please?” Alex asked, or rather, demanded, throwing a dusty notepad and a pencil in front of Robin. He’d promised to write his address down for her so she could write to him, they were going to be pen-pals!

Brodie grumbled, immediately dropping any misgivings, just as Alex had asked. “What do you want from the store?”

“Gummy worms!” Alex shouted.

“You’ll have no teeth left…” Brodie tutted, grabbing his coat.

“They’ll grow back.” Alex shoved a finger in her mouth, prodding the exposed gum where her front teeth used to be.

“Hm-.. you better get yourself gone soon, son. I’m sure your parents are wondering where you are.” Brodie squinted at Alex as he headed out, as if to warn her against convincing Robin to stay any longer; she stuck her tongue out at him.

Robin nodded as Brodie left, hastily scrawling down the rest of his address. He wondered if he ought to write anything else, an apology perhaps? He felt bad that he hadn’t managed to speak to Alex yet, but he was going home soon, so the opportunity had already passed. Maybe he didn’t have anything interesting to say, anyway.

“He’s nice really, he’s just-.. moody, or whatever.”

Robin forced a smile as she continued.

“It’s so not fair, having to stay cooped up in here all day-.. what does he expect?”

Robin supposed he expected his daughter to listen to him, though he also supposed it wasn’t fair that she had to stay here alone every day either. Did she go to school? Were they on some kind of permanent vacation? He’d have to remember to ask her when they wrote to one another, they’d have more chance of getting to know each other that way-.. especially since he still seemed unable to talk like a normal human being.

Alex hovered at the top of the staircase, blocking Robin’s path.

“I don’t want you to go-.. home, I mean.” She clarified.

For some reason, Robin found it hard to read Alex, but he could sense enough to know that she was lonely. She seemed much more present than anyone else he knew; often avoiding thinking about the past or the future, or ruminating on her thoughts for too long, instead acting on contagious, frivolous impulsiveness.

He couldn’t decide whether it was refreshing or frustrating. He’d gotten used to knowing what went on in people’s minds, and whether he liked it or not, Alex was an enigma. Robin would’ve done anything to avoid going home-.. and back to school, but since he couldn’t say so out loud, he did the next best thing.

“Ough!” Alex squeaked with surprise as Robin yanked her off her feet, wrapping his arms around her in a vice like bear hug.

Since he was so awkward with his words-.. or lack thereof, she’d wrongly assumed he’d be weirded out by physical affection too. Giggling slightly, she decided it was quite nice to be wrong. Her father wasn’t exactly a hugger, and it wasn’t as though she had anyone else she could randomly accost with her need for affection, people would think she was odd or clingy.

“I guess you don’t want to go either?” She asked, almost rhetorically.

Robin shook his head vigorously, tilting backwards precariously until Alex squealed again.

“Okay, okay, you can put me down now.. I promise I’ll write!”

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#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #robin finch #alexandra sampson #brodie sampson #helppppppp they're too cute #i need to go lay down #let's just stay here forever #😭#forever in between is now forever camping fkjdkfj

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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Crossing Lines | s.h x fem!reader

part one | part two | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

series summary: steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: things take a turn the night of the wedding. what happens when you’re back in Hawkins and no longer have to pretend to be steve’s girlfriend?

content: arguing, drinking, kissing (yes you read that right), a few confessions (yes you read that right, too), she/her pronouns, use of y/n, swearing

word count: 3.7k

a/n: THINGS ARE HAPPENING! BUCKLE UP

The sound of clanging cutlery makes your head throb due to the cruel hangover you woke up with. You were currently eating breakfast with the Harrington’s and not to sound rude, but it was the last place you wanted to be right now.

After the events of last night, you couldn’t get even a blink of sleep. It was already bad enough you told Steve that he shouldn’t kiss you because you wouldn’t be able to sleep, but him agreeing made it even worse.

It makes no sense to you.

He must be playing some sort of cruel game, right? He’s probably just stringing you along trying to make you fall for him and when if you do, bam, you’re left heartbroken.

Steve Harrington can suck it. There’s positively no way you’re falling for him.

“You alright?” he whispers to you when he notices you moving the food around your plate instead of eating it. “m’fine” you shrug. “Just don’t have an appetite’’ you explain. “Eat something. We have a long day ahead of us”

“Why do you care?” you snap and his eyes widen. Luckily, his family was too immersed in their own conversations to pay attention to either of you. “Let’s not do this here, okay? Yell at me when we get back to the house if you want”

“What’s the point? You never listen anyways” you huff.

This morning was a tad awkward between you and Steve. When you tried to talk about it and clear the air, he just grunted and wanted to brush it under the rug like he always does. Safe to say you were frustrated with him.

“Whatever, y/n. Just promise you’ll stop acting like this when we’re at the wedding”

“Only if you promise to stop being such a dick”

“Fine”

Spoiler alert: It wasn’t fine.

When you had gotten back to the house, neither of you spoke a word to each other. You took a much needed nap while Steve left the house. He didn’t tell you where he was going and frankly, you didn’t care to know.

Okay, that’s a bit of a lie. You cared a teeny tiny amount.

These past few days have felt so back and forth. Every time you think you’re making progress to the possibility of being friends, there’s a small hiccup and you’re back to square one. You feel like you’ve gotten a glimpse of Steve that you haven’t gotten in a long time, but then the glimpse is overshadowed by him going back to acting like an ass at the drop of a hat.

Your rumination is interrupted by the sound of the front door closing, alerting you that Steve is back. You go back to doing your makeup until Steve knocks on the bathroom door. “Come in” you answer and he opens the door.

“We’re leaving in an hour” he states “Then why aren’t you ready yet? You were gone for two hours”

“I went to my parents to call Robin” he answers. “We have a phone here” you counter. “Thanks, sherlock, but I didn’t really want you snooping in on my conversation”

“I have no interest in what you have to say considering you have no interest in listening to me” you sigh heavily. “Is this about last night? Can’t you get over that?” You angrily set your mascara down and turn to look at him. “No, it isn’t just about last night. It’s about the entire time I’ve known you, Steve! You are such an asshole to me and I’ve done nothing to you and yes, I wanted to kiss you, but you wanted to kiss me too and it’s driving me fucking mad because you want to act like this whole weekend hasn’t even happened!” you exclaim and hold back a sob. You’d always been so utterly confused about his hatred towards you and this trip has made it even worse. He gives you no explanations, no communication, just avoidance.

“I have to get ready” is all he says before exiting the room and you groan in frustration. All you want, all you need, is for him to talk to you. It’s like trying to get through a brick wall. Impossible and not worth it.

You’d never been more grateful for a weekend to almost be over.

The wedding ceremony had been uncomfortable, to say the least. You and Steve were squished together in a church pew, leaving no room for distance between the two of you. It was hard to focus on the beautiful event taking place in front of you when Steve’s thigh was pressed up against yours and he had to put his arm on the back of the bench and you had to lean into him for appearances.

The reception was going better though, partially because of the open bar. You’re currently stood there waiting on your third drink when the bride herself comes up to you. “What did Steve do now?” she asks you. “What do you mean?” you play dumb. “You two have been so lovey dovey this whole weekend and now you haven’t spoken a word to each other tonight. Spill”

“I don’t want to burden you. It’s your wedding night!”

“Consider it a wedding present. Tell me everything!”

That was easier said than done. You couldn’t exactly explain that this entire relationship is fake and Steve has been sending you mixed signals, absolutely doing your head in. “Just a silly fight, I suppose. Nothing serious” you reply. “Alright, I won’t bother you for juicy details, but tonight is all about love and that boy loves you. He’s outside. Go find him, okay?”

Before you go and find him, you make sure to get him a drink to break the ice. As frustrated as you were with him, you weren’t going to sulk at someone's wedding over it.

“Hey” you mutter when you find him alone outside. “Peace offering” you say as you hand him a drink and he accepts, chugging it rather quickly.

“Look, I’m sorry ab-”

“No, I’m sorry.” he interrupts “I was an ass and you didn’t deserve it”

“Thank you, but you’ve been really off all day. Is something else wrong?’’ you question and he sighs “My dad keeps harping on me about my job, my apartment, and basically everything else. Says you’re too good for me. I don’t even deserve my fake girlfriend” he chuckles, humorlessly.

“Steve” you whisper, stepping closer to him and putting your hand on his arm “I know we’ve had our differences, but you should be proud of yourself. You could’ve easily had everything handed to you, but you decided to do everything on your own. I think that’s very brave of you”

“You think I’m brave?” his eyes meet yours and you swear there’s a sparkle in his golden irises. “yeah, i do, but don’t let that get to your head, alright?” you joke and he smiles for the first time today. “too late” he smiles. “So we’re okay now? ya know, until you start acting like a dick again” you joke. “Yeah, we’re okay. until you do something annoying again”

You both chuckle and you can’t deny this moment feels nice. Steve seems different, apart from the few arguments you’ve had over the weekend, it feels like there’s a possibility for an acquaintance. Maybe even friends, but you don’t wanna get ahead of yourself.

“Hey, lovebirds. Get in here, everyone’s lookin for ya” one of the groomsmen says when he finds you and Steve outside. “we’ll be there in a sec” Steve tells him before he disappears.

“ready?” he asks and you nod, both quickly finishing your drinks before facing the crowd inside. Steve takes your hand and leads you back into the reception.

Once you’re back inside, you feel a gentle tug on your dress. When you turn around and look down, you’re met with a friendly, familiar face. “hi, penelope! you look so pretty!” you exclaim and she twirls to show you her dress. “you look like a princess! will you dance with me?” she asks. “I’d be honored!”

“I’m gonna go get us a couple more drinks, okay?” Steve tells you before you’re escorted to the dance floor with your new best friend.

While Steve waits to order at the bar, he watches you and penny absolutely steal the show. You’re holding hands while twirling around the dance floor and laughing. He notices everyone admiring you, much like he is right now.

“She sure is lovely, Steve” his mom says when she approaches him. “she is, isn’t she?” he replies and he means it. You have this way about you that makes everyone swoon over you. At first, he found it annoying, but now he might say he finds it endearing. He’s starting to understand why everyone likes you so much.

As ‘open arms’ by Journey starts to play, he watches your eyes light up and you say ‘I love this song!’. He decides the drinks can wait.

“Care if I steal my girl for a dance, penny?” he asks, fully expecting her to say no. “fine, but only one dance, mister” she points her finger at him and you both laugh. “I’ll hand her off to you in no time. I swear” he promises before she walks back over to her parents.

“So, I hear you like this totally cheesy song. Can’t say I’m surprised” he teases and you playfully roll your eyes. “And you wanna dance with me to this totally cheesy song” you rebuttal. “touche” he chuckles.

Your arms wrap around his neck and his hands fall to your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. “I believe I was promised a drink”

“Got distracted, plus I don’t need you getting sloppy and stepping on my toes”

“Sloppy?! If anything, my dance moves are even more impeccable when I’m drunk. Did you not see my moves earlier?”

“Oh, I did, unfortunately. You’re really great with Penny, by the way. Must be because you dance the same.” he torments you. “Okay, I’m ignoring that. She’s a great kid, though. Hard to believe you share genes”

“How would we share jeans? She’s a toddler”

“Steve” you deadpan, waiting for him to get that you meant genes, not jeans. “Oh” he nods his head once he understands and you both laugh.

“Do you think that maybe after all of this we could be friends, maybe?” you ask, shyly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yeah, maybe” he answers before continuing “you aren’t completely awful and besides us fighting every other hour, I’ve had fun with you.”

“I’ve had fun with you too, but if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it” you jokingly respond and he agrees. “I don’t entirely hate being around you” he whispers. “I don’t either”

Steve’s eyes flick down to your lips and linger longer than you expected. “stop looking at my lips!” you quietly exclaim. “I'm not! Your lipstick is smeared!” he defends.“I’m not wearing lipstick, Steve” you clarify and his cheeks turn pink.

“You’re blushing! you were totally looking at my lips!”

“I was not. If I get you a drink will you stop berating me?” he bargains. “Hm, I don’t know. Get me a drink anyways and let's find out.”

Steve keeps his hand on the small on your back the entire time you stand at the bar. You lean your head on his shoulder, claiming that it’s only because you’re sleepy, but deep down you feel the need to be as close to him as possible.

“Wanna go back outside? It’s kinda hot in here” Steve asks once you get your drinks. You nod and follow him, lacing your hands together, mostly for support as you're tired and you feel like your feet might actually fall off from your heels.

You and Steve don’t bother finding any chairs, opting to sit in the grass instead.

“It’s so beautiful out here” you sigh dreamily as you look at the stars in the sky. Steve turns to look at you while you admire the view “yeah. it really is”

A night breeze causes you to shiver, so Steve takes off his blazer and places it over your shoulders. “Thanks, Stevie” you smile at him and he hates how the way your nose scrunches as you smile makes him feel like a damn teenager with the butterflies he gets.

“Can I ask you something?” you ask, looking back at the sky not really wanting to look at him when you ask what’s on your mind. “go for it”

“Why did you hate me? I mean, I hope it’s past tense because you said we can be friends now, but I’m just curious” you nervously pluck grass out of the ground, still avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t hate you” “Steve, that’s a lie and we both know it. Be honest, I can take it”

Seconds pass before he speaks again, letting out a big sigh before doing so. “You’re too perfect”

“What?” you scoff. “You’re just so…unreal. With the way you laugh, the way you’re nice to everybody, and the way you could wear a trash bag and still be unbelievably beautiful. It just makes me so mad because I can never have you” he confessions and you’re stunned, to say the least.

You don’t say anything for a good minute and a half, unable to think of anything to say. Steve wishes he had a time machine so he could go back and say literally anything else. He takes your silence as rejection.

“why can’t you have me?” you whisper “it’s stupid” he grumbles. “tell me. please”

“Robin told me that I wasn’t ready for a girl like you and truth be told, I don’t think I ever will be” he tells you. You scoot closer to him, locking your eyes with his. “you can have me tonight, Steve, while we’re away from home. No robin, no hawkins, just you and me and not a care in the world”

“Can we really do that just for one night?” he wonders, eyes scanning over your face to see if there’s any detection of you just messing around with him. “that depends…do you wanna kiss me?”

“yes”

Neither of you waste any time. His lips hungrily chase yours and you sigh into the kiss as you both lay down on your sides in the grass. Your hand grasps the back of his neck to keep him in place, making sure this moment lasts as long as possible. Warmth spreads throughout your body and you feel like your heart might beat out of your chest.

One of Steve’s hands tangles in your hair while the other rests on your waist. It’s so quiet outside that all you can hear are the sounds of your kiss and you can’t be too sure, but so far you think it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard.

Steve is the first to pull away, but not too far. He rests his forehead on yours and he keeps his eyes closed. “Can we go back to our place?” he asks and you let out an ‘mhm’ before you both stand up, going back inside to quickly say your goodbyes.

Steve presses kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and lips every five seconds in the back of the cab and all the way to the front door. He knows he won’t be able to do this once you go back to your lives in Hawkins, so he uses this opportunity as best as he can.

For tonight, you’re his girl and he can kiss you silly if he wants to.

“Stevie, can I sleep in your sweatshirt? it gets cold at night”

“Here. I’ll get out of your hair” he says before leaving the room so you can get changed. His sweatshirt smells like him and you smile as you put it on.

You change in record time so Steve can come back in. You know this is a terrible idea. You shouldn’t want to kiss him this badly, you shouldn’t hope you sleep in his arms tonight, but you do because you don’t know if you’ll ever get the chance to once you’re home.

“I’m done!’’ you shout and Steve returns, also changed into comfy clothes. You both climb into bed after turning off the lights. His arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you into him so your head lies on his chest.

You’re both utterly exhausted, but don’t go to bed before sharing more giggly kisses. You each dread when the sunrises, meaning your time together is up.

It was nice while it lasted. Even if it was only for a few hours.

In the morning, there’s no regrets or arguing, like what both of you expected. Instead, there was a feeling of misery. If Steve knew he could’ve had you for this whole weekend, he wouldn’t have wasted a second.

How is he supposed to act once you’re back in Hawkins? Does he go back to being an asshole or does he stick by his promise of being your friend? Is it even possible for him to be your friend at this point?

You don’t speak much throughout the morning, apart from when you’re at his parents’ to say goodbyes. “I can’t wait to see you again, dear” his mom had told you and you felt an odd feeling in your chest at her words.

Steve loads up all of your things in the car for you and you mutter a ‘thanks’ before getting in the passenger seat.

“Ready?” Steve asks when he gets in the car. “yep. let’s go home” you exhale a deep breath.

You fall asleep almost as soon as you’re on the road and Steve sighs in relief. He doesn’t think he could take the silence.

The ride home goes by fairly quickly. You wake once you feel his car come to a halt outside your house.

“I’ll get your bags for you” he offers and you shake your head “no it’s o-”

“y/n, let me get your bags. It’ll be my final job as your fake boyfriend” he jokes and you let out a fake chuckle. Why does the thought of this being over hurt so much?

“Well, guess we’re broken up now, huh? Longest three and a half days of my life” you jest. “Right back at ya. Pleasure doing business with you” he holds his hand out and you shake it like you just got finished with a business meeting. “Until next time”

“Until next time” he repeats your words and heads back to his car.

You watch him drive away through your living room window, hoping he’ll turn around to give you one last kiss, but he doesn’t. It’s probably for the best anyways.

It had been two weeks since returning to Hawkins and Steve couldn’t shake the feeling he had. It was the heart wrenching feeling you have when you miss someone, and he didn’t want to miss you, but he did. Severely.

Somehow, his apartment had felt lonelier. His bed felt colder as he grew accustomed to sharing a bed with you for only three nights, despite the gap that was left between you and him the first two nights.

He hasn’t seen you since he dropped you off two weeks ago and there’s nothing else to say except that he misses you.

He misses your laugh, he misses your banter, and he misses the way he felt when he kissed you that Saturday night. Like it was something you should’ve been doing this whole time.

The clock on his bedside table reads 12:48 and he decides he can’t take this anymore. He can’t go through another sleepless night feeling like this.

He throws his blankets off his body and gets dressed, putting on the first thing he could find and running out the front door.

He didn’t care anymore.

He didn’t care about what Robin would say, or that you and Eddie used to be a thing, or that this could end in complete fucking disaster.

All he cared about was what he wanted and that was you.

A series of knocks at your door wasn’t what you expected at one in the morning.

Obviously, the first thing that came to mind was a murderer, but when you looked through your peephole, you saw a very frantic Steve.

“Steve? Are you okay?” his eyes were wide, his hair was a mess, and he was clearly jittery.

“No, actually, I’m losing my mind. I mean, you tell me I can have you for one night and you thought that I could go back to normal after that?”

“I’m…sorry?”

“No, listen. I can’t go back to normal. I have wanted you for as long as I’ve known you and then we finally fucking kiss and I have to pretend like it wasn’t the best thing that’s happened to me a really long goddamn time. I want you and I can’t act like I don’t’’

You practically throw yourself at him, quickly crashing your lips together and pulling him inside. you’d been waiting so long for this.

“We can't tell any of our friends about this” kiss. “Agreed” kiss. “I mean this could totally blow up in our faces, there's no reason to tell them, right” you state, pulling away from his lips.“Uh-huh, right. Now shut up and kiss me again”

You stand in your living for at least ten minutes, kissing him like it’s the only thing you’ll ever do again until exhaustion hits you both.

“do you wanna stay tonight? I don’t want you out driving this late”

“I wouldn’t be able to leave anyways”

It feels weird at first to be cuddling Steve. Just a few weeks ago you swore up and down he hated you, and now you’re both curled up in your bed, clinging to each other like your life depends on it. It doesn’t feel wrong, though. It feels natural. Like, you’ve figured everything out. Well, almost everything.

What else did you need to figure out? How the hell you were going to keep this from your friends.

taglist: @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus @freezaz123 @whisperingwillowxox @buckysmetalhand @x-theolivia @realsuper-dark @eddiesguitarskills @megxplryxb @alicetweven @calmoistorm @impossibelle @k-k0129 @moonofthedevil @tinakham @kennedy-brooke @enco12e @sierrahhh @meet-me-backstage @whoringtonmunswhore

(a few blogs i was unable to tag :( i’m not sure if that’s an issue on my end or not but i’ll try to figure it out!)

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington series #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington #stranger things fic #steve harrington stranger things

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thisiswhereikeepdcthings · 2 years

Note

Good morning, please have this thought:

Due to shenanigans that Clark cannot possibly comprehend, let alone understand, Bruce has somehow talked him into being Batman for a week.

He comes out of the experience bewildered and wondering how in fuck's sake Batman ever held onto his no-kill rule.

And then he runs into Dick Grayson who is staring at him with starry eyes.

Clark is ten seconds away from a meltdown can you please help him Bruce -

No, help does not mean lean against the doorframe sipping coffee and hiding laughter dammit Bruce HELP HIM -

Clark thinks it's over.

And then he fills in when Jason is Robin. Ten minutes in, and Clark is infinitely fonder of this Robin. Robin gives him magic? God, so cute.

Tim is entirely too smart and sleep deprived and scares him, but at least he puts his brain towards being a menace on main towards Luther.

Stephanie is a national treasure, he thinks, and they join forces for sassing sessions against Bruce.

Damien... He's totally not helping this kid sneak in a tiger, Bruce, just look the other way.

This is perfect

Thank you for the thought

I am enjoying it immensely

I will probably spend a significant portion of the day ruminating on this idea

#batman #batfam #bruce wayne #batkids #clark kent #clark kent is batman #superman

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munson-mjstan · 2 months

Text

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Not much time has passed since the funeral of your dear friend Eddie Munson. To say you were miserable as a result would be an understatement, you felt as though the grief was killing you. Luckily another friend is there for you, offering you hope in this time of despair.

Warnings: Angst with comfort (Steve being readers super hero), swearing, use of y/n, mentions of the Upside Down, mentions of Vecna, God makes an appearance-ish

Wc: 4.3k

An: My first Steve Harrington fic! Ohhh! I'm so excited! I hope I wrote him well! Thank you to my beta readers @lokis-army-77, @xxhellfirebunnyxx

Comments and reblogs are everything!! 💗

"Edward Munson, as we lay you to rest, those of us left behind bid you farewell.” That was the closing statement as the casket carrying the body of your beloved friend descends into the ground. The final resting place for Eddie Munson.

That was two weeks ago.

You're brought back to the present by Steve snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“Oi! Hun!”

Blinking your focus is back at your shift at Family Video. You're at the front counter with Robin while Steve resumes putting away rented videos.

“You okay?” Robin asks you softly.

Turning to face her you notice her beautiful blue eyes hold sadness, fear, and a little bit of anger swimming behind them. Anger not directed at you but at someone else.

You heave out a sigh, hoping to exhale the edge of your grief, “No, I'm not, Robin… I miss Eddie so much.” Your voice is low and melancholic, one that if a demon heard you, they'd start crying.

Robin doesn't hesitate to hug you to which you hug her back. “I miss him too,” Robin says “he was a cool guy.”

Cool was definitely an understatement to describe Eddie, you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. “He was incredible, Robin.”

Steve makes his rounds, putting away rented videos in their proper places. He is pretending he didn't hear most of your brief conversation with Robin. He felt terrible.

Even when you're present you're gone.

As he put the last rented video back in its place he heard sniffles.

“Robin…he was supposed to graduate and finally make something of himself! He was supposed to find a girl, get married, have a family! Or hell! Make it big with Corroded Coffin! He deserved so much better than the hand he got!” You didn't mean to raise your voice, your emotions were once again threatening to choke you.

Your eyes are burning, your body is trembling, and you feel your chest tightening.

Thankfully, Robin being the great friend she is, let you vent, “I know,” She sadly replied, “I didn't know Eddie that well, but from the time I spent with him, he did deserve better.”

“Yeah,” Your breathing is starting to become even, you're calming down, “I think I need to wash my face and try to calm further down.” You chuckle sheepishly, the emotional outburst has embarrassed you.

“Want me to come with you?” Robin asks, kindness dripping from her voice like honey dripping from a comb.

Shaking your head you smile at Robin; the appreciation is there though the smile does not reach your eyes.

“I'll be okay, Robin. Thanks anyway.” And with that you depart to the ladies restroom, opening and closing the door with a semi-loud squeak.

Once you were out of sight, Robin called out to Steve, “Hey, dingus!”

Jumping slightly from being startled, Steve maneuvers to where Robin is at the front desk.

“What’s up?”

“Don't ‘What’s up?’ me, Steve!” Robin impersonates Steve with immaculate precision, “You gotta help our girl out. I've never seen her so miserable...” Robin's voice drops, her eyes are glossed with unshed tears, it's like her skin is acting as a conduit for your grief.

“I want to help, I do, I have no idea where to start.” Steve leans against the counter, his shoulders slump as he lets out a sigh of rumination.

“We need to think carefully about this. This is not a simple matter.” Robin adds, wanting to brainstorm with Steve on how best to aid you. “She's getting her emotions out, that's a start.”

“Maybe I could take her to Eddie's grave? I know it hasn't been long but maybe if she sees him…” Steve trails off not finishing his sentence, “then again, maybe it's too soon for her.”

“A good idea! Do you think Mike and the others would be willing to help?”

“Possibly,” Steve considers Robin's idea, commiting said thought to memory, “but I think we should wait to ask them, at least for a bit while I take the brunt of it.”

Robin nods in agreement,”I wish I could help her too, ya know?” Robin bangs her head against the store counter “Dammit Eddie! You weren't supposed to die!”

“Robin, if there is an afterlife, I hope Eddie can see how much he matters…or mattered.” Steve dismally corrected himself, he's not used to talking about someone past tense.

“I hope so too.” Robin agrees, sharing the same sentiment exactly.

“She needs to know that we are here for her.”

“Well, yes, we are,” Robin concurred, making deliberate emphasis on ‘we’ “but I think maybe you should be the one to help her, at least with the brunt of her grief.” She gives Steve a knowing look.

“Huh? W-what do you mean?” Steve's eyes look anywhere but Robins piercing blue ones.

“You like her, dingus.” Robin's lips curve up into a smirk.

Steve blinks at her as a blush creeps up his face, “Uh..”

“You can bear the brunt of it because she's precious to you.” Robin says matter-of-factly.

“S-she's just–” Steve stammers, trying to find the right words.

“A girl you want to kiss,” Robin finishes his sentence even though it most likely wasn't what he wanted to say.

Steve sighs, “It's true, I do like her a lot but..”

“But?” Robin questions, raising a brow, resting her elbows on the counter and her chin on her open palms.

“She's going through enormous grief and I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of that,” Steve declares candidly, he'd never under any circumstances try anything with you until you were one hundred percent better, “I'll do what I can to help her no matter what!”

Robin whistles, “Wow, Steve, I'm impressed.” she'd never imagine King Steve of all people would become so considerate of others, not just to her but you.

“Thanks,” he smiles. “I should probably get ready to ask her to come with me after work.”

“Why do you need to get ready?” Robin questions, wondering what in the world could he have to prepare himself for.

Steve takes several deep breaths, “Oh!” He exclaims, he'd just got an idea.

Washing your face in one of the bathroom sinks you gaze at your face in the soiled mirror, eyes swollen and absent of life.

“I miss you.” You say quietly, deadpanned.

Who were you talking about? Eddie?

The girl you were before his death?

Both?

You felt as though some part of you was laid to rest alongside Eddie.

It's only been two weeks but you still can't help but wonder how long you'll be this way.

A few years?

Decades?

You can't fathom that much time grieving.

The thought alone brought more tears to your eyes but you squeezed your eyes shut, you will yourself not to shed them.

Exhaling out a breath you didn't know you were holding you give yourself a small pat on the back; stopping yourself from crying certainly was not easy.

“Brace yourself, y/n. Gotta get back out there and face Robin and Steve.” Hopping up and down in an attempt to hype yourself up you lightly smack your face with both your hands.

“Come on! You got this!” This time you shouted at your reflection, hoping she would listen to you.

Turning brisk on your heel you make your way out of the bathroom, your Nikes make a slight squeaking noise on the linoleum flooring. Opening the door you're greeted by the grinning face of Steve Harrington.

“Hey!”

“H-hi?” You're taken aback by his unusual cheerful attitude.

“I was thinking, something I'm bad at I know,” his comment had earned a chuckle from you; butterflies erupted in his stomach, “I want to take you out after work.”

“So,” you tilt your head, “like a date?”

“Uh..” Steve blushes, clearing his throat, “no, nothing like that. I want to go see someone with you.”

“Sure? Why not?” As perplexed as you are, going out with a friend is something you need to do for yourself.

“Great!” Steve's smile gets impossibly bigger.

His grin made you smile automatically back.

Steve could see that your grin didn't reach your eyes, it was something automatic; a mask to let others know you were okay.

“Alright, meet me outside my BMW after our shifts are done!”

“Okay.”

“Great!” Steve glanced at Robin who gestured at the clock ticking above them, “Shit! It's almost time for our last break! Let's go!” Steve turns and heads to the break room, you and Robin follow suit.

Entering the break room you sit down, out a folded sheet of paper and pen you pull out from the breast pocket of your Family Video vest and begin writing.

All your emotions, pain, tears, things you've experienced in the Upside Down you pour into the letter. You don't care that you're making grammatical errors, it is imperative that these feelings come out. You miss Eddie, you miss him terribly. You keep expecting he'll pop out somewhere and say “Surprise, sweetheart. I'm alive!” But you know that's impossible.

Meanwhile, Steve and Robin from the other side of the break room are formulating a plan to help you further.

“Steve, you did great! She's not quite a shell of her former self anymore!” Robin's eyes shine in delight, happy to see her friend slowly but surely getting better.

“But I haven't done anything yet.” Steve dismisses his actions as though they were nothing, but Robin noticed an immediate change in your countenance.

“Take it from me, I've been around her longer than you at the front desk. After Eddie's death she's been something like a zombie, not even living just existing.” Robin explains, this is how she's seen you recently.

You don't listen to much music, read, go to the arcade, swim or any of the things you used to be so excited about doing. Until now, you've picked up another hobby you used to do: write.

“So, she's making progress?” Steve tentatively asks.

Robin playfully scoffs, “Yes, dingus!”

Once you've finished writing down your thoughts as thoroughly as you could at this time, you heave out a sigh, deflating like a balloon. You fold up your letter and stuff it into your jeans.

A large hand made contact with your shoulder, you looked up to see its owner, it's Steve grinning down at you, “You okay?” he asks, still smiling but his brown eyes hold concern and compassion for you.

Smiling back at him you say, “As good as I can be, I guess.”

“Better than nothing!” Steve bellows, his hand moves to your back, “I'm here for you, no matter the time of day or night for that matter. If you need to talk, call me and I'll come pick you up! I want to help get you through this.” Steve removes his hand from your back and crouches down so he is eye level with you so, “Will you let me?” His voice brims with kindness.

Surprised by Steve's actions, you can only look at his face as the answer falls from your lips, “Yes, of course Steve.” You needed the support right now, “Thank you, Steve and I'm sorry.” You didn't want to be a burden to him, or to anyone that's why you were taking your grief on alone.

“Don't ever apologize for needing help every now and then. We'll get through this together.” Steves’ eyes shine brightly with sincerity.

“Thank you.” You thank him once again for his offer to help you.

Glancing down at his watch Steve comments, “We have to get back out there! We only have two hours left of our shift!” Steve looks at you once again, “Can you make it? It's just two more hours. You know, you'd better stick with me, I don't want you to be alone.” A smile as bright as the sun graces his handsome features.

“But Robin–” you glance at Robin who had been watching the entire exchange, she is grinning and giving you a thumbs up with her freshly manicured nails. “Alright, I'll stick with you.”

You'd never know it but Steve's insides are dancing the conga. “Okay!” Steve stands upright, “Time to get back to work, Robby!” You chuckle softly at the nickname Steve calls Robin. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Robin then smiles at the both of us, “Y/n, we are here for you, and I'm positive the kids are too.”

Another smile that doesn't reach your eyes pulls at your face when you think of the kids, especially Dustin, “I know, thank you, Robin.”

Exiting the break room you tug gently on Robin's work vest, she turns to face you,“If you need me, please call me up to the front.”

Robin chuckles, “Y/n, this has been one of the slowest days, the earthquake really messed with everyday life in Hawkins. I mean, Steve removed and re-stocked the videos out of sheer boredom…I'm surprised he didn't alphabetized them.”

Wait, Steve did what?

Robin must've seen the face you're making, “Don’t look so shocked. It's been a long time coming he does some actual work rather than fail at flirting with the girls that come by.” Robin snorts out a laugh.

“Really? Wow.” You were shocked, you had no idea what was happening around you. The shock manifested itself as a wake-up call.

The world hadn't ended because Eddie Munson had died.

“Yeah, well you better tail Steve the rest of our shift. I don't want to keep you all to myself.” Robin playfully slapped your shoulder.

“I will, I mean,” you look around the store, there are no customers, “it's not like we're busy.”

“There ya go!” Robin beams, walking away from you back to her post at the front counter.

Walking around Family Video you find a familiar head of chestnut hair standing up to the heavens and standing next to a pile of tapes. Upon closer inspection he seems to be concentrating on a particular video in his hands, it's a title you recognize.

“Carrie, huh?”

Your voice broke Steve out of his trance, he blinked before turning his head to face you he smiled instantly, “Yeah, I'm curious about it.”

Having watched the movie several times during your horror nights with Eddie, you knew your stuff about this film, “About what?”

“Well, this Carrie girl, what's her deal? Is she a monster of some sort?”

You couldn't help but chuckle at Steve's genuine cluelessness, “No, she's not, she's just a normal girl, well fundamentally speaking.”

Your words make Steve furrow his brows in thought, “What does that mean?”

“It means she's a girl that has telekinesis, she moves objects using her mind.” Explaining her powers to Steve you notice his eyebrows relax, that's one answer he's gotten.

“Oh? Wow! El is like her!” Steve grins, his white teeth shine brightly.

Curious as to who El is, you question Steve, “Um, who?”

Steve facepalms, “I'm sorry! I completely forgot you haven't met her yet.” Steve puts away the copy of Carrie in its proper place and gestures to the pile of tapes next to him, “Help me put those away and I'll explain it.”

Nodding your head you maneuver to the tape pile and take the first one on top Friday the 13th. Furrowing your brows you glance around the aisle, you're in the horror/suspense section. Placing the movie where it belongs Steve starts his explanation.

“She is a friend of the kids, a rather extraordinary one at that. She has telekinesis too, but it takes a lot out of her. You have to meet her!” Steve excitedly expressed.

Pacing back and forth putting videos away you let Steve's words penetrante your mind.

A girl with supernatural powers?

This you gotta see!

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

“Good! It's settled then!” Steve puts more tapes away.

Two Hours Later…

Finally your monotonous shift has ended, you, Robin, and Steve head out the door together.

“What an eventful shift.” Robin comments, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Steve held in a laugh while you looked at the sky. It was still bright out, the sun hadn't reached the horizon. The sky had taken an orange glow making cumulus clouds above you appear pink. Several birds fly over the three of you, headed toward a destination you didn't know, you want to guess away from Hawkins.

Fly little birds, get away from here. You think to yourself.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, “Ready to go?” Steve beams, holding up the keys to his BMW.

“Yeah, I am.” You smile back.

“Great! See you next week Robin!” Steve hugs Robin who over his shoulder made a look of disgust that made you laugh.

Robin decided to make it her mission to make you laugh until the grief passed you. She noticed it was a genuine laugh but not quite like the ones she heard before Eddie's death.

That's a start. Robin thought to herself.

Steve pulled away and Robin had a smile plastered on her face, “What did you do?”

“Nothing, dingus!” Robin feigns ignorance, holding her hands up in mock surrender.

“See you next week, Robin. Take some time to chill out this weekend.” Hugging your friend, you impart these words to her, they're sincere.

“You too, Y/n.” Robin hugs you back, you feel her support and care for you in her embrace. She's such a great friend.

“Are you sure you'll be okay going home by yourself? I'm sure Steve won't mind dropping you off at home first.” You gently nudge Steve with your elbow.

“-W-wha–huh? Oh, yes of course.” He agrees albeit a little disappointed.

“Great! Thanks guys!”

Steve pulls into Robin's driveway. Being the gentleman he is, Steve opened Robin's side door after putting his car in ‘park’ and escorted her to her porch, he even waited until she was fully inside her home.

After bidding their final goodbyes Steve walks back to his car and through his windshield tells you to move to the passenger side.

Unbuckling your seatbelt you open the rear door, exit out of the car only to find the passenger door open, Steve gave you a radiant smile that made your face heat up, “For you, ma'am.”

“Thank you, sir.” Smiling at his playful gesture you enter the passenger side of his car, take your seat, and patiently wait for Steve to drive you to your unknown destination.

Steve enters the drivers side, checks his mirrors and looks behind him making sure things are clear, safe for him to drive. Once he saw that it was safe he backed out of Robin's driveway, put his BMW in ‘drive’ and made his way out of the neighborhood.

Once you’d made it onto one of the main roads you turn to face Steve, “Um, Steve? Who are we going to see?”

Steve, keeping his eyes on the road chuckled a little bit, “Sorry, it's a secret. Though I'm sure if you thought about it, you'd figure it out.”

Figure what out?

The answer hits you like a freight train going full force.

“Eddie…” you breathe out like the answer has stolen most of your air.

“Yeah, the man himself.” Steve makes a left turn, “Do you know what you wanna say?”

Pulling out the letter you'd written earlier, you wave it slightly, “I have some things written here.”

“Perfect!” Steve happily exclaims. He's honestly happy just spending time with you.

Making another left turn you spot a sign.

Stone Mountain Cemetery

You hadn't been here in two weeks and when you were here last Eddie– even your thoughts couldn't finish as you felt warm streaks of tears fall from your irises.

Steve took a quick glance at you and his face fell. Maybe this was too soon for you, “Do you need me to turn around? We don't have to do this.” Steve calmly reassures you, ready and willing to turn around and take you home.

Steve's words bring comfort to your distressed state. Suddenly you feel a surge of courage travel up your body.

“I have t-to do this. I-I n-need to see him.” Through your broken sobs and sniffles you say what's on your mind with determination.

You will see Eddie and tell him what you'd been feeling since he's been gone.

Steve pulls into a parking spot and sits for a minute, putting a supportive arm around your shoulders he promises, "I'm here for you. Today, tomorrow and every day after.”

Taking some deep needed breathes, you feel your rapid heartbeat beginning to steady, your tears less frequent, and your mind more focused on what you need to do.

“Thank you so much, Steve.” Leaning your head onto his shoulder you voice your gratitude for his patience and care.

He kisses your head, he feels your hair against his lips, “You're welcome, I'm happy to do this for you.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind holding me while I read what I have to say to Eddie?”

“Not at all, hun.” He didn't hesitate in answering you.

“Alright then,” unbuckling your seatbelt, you lean out of Steve's embrace, “let's go.”

Steve follows suit unbuckling his seatbelt.

Exiting his car you look up at the sky once again, the sun is about thirty minutes to the horizon and that works perfectly for you.

Steve appears beside you, sporting a smile, “Ready?” His large hand is held out for you to take.

Which you take right away.

“I am, lead on, Steve.” smiling back, it still doesn't reach your eyes from Steve's perspective but he's happy to be helping you in your time of need.

If you could guess how long you had been walking until you reached Eddie's grave you'd say about 5 minutes, so not long at all.

“We made it,” Steve says with a somber tone.

“Yeah…” the familiar placing of each headstone leading up to Eddie's you remember, as if you could forget such an unhappy event.

“So,” Steve scratches the back his head and gazes out into the sunset, “you know what you're gonna say.”

“I do, I mean– I did, ahh fuck it!” Taking the letter you wrote during your break you crumble it up.

“Isn’t that important?”

“Yeah, but I'm just gonna say what's on my mind rather than this,” you hold up the crumbled note, “please hold me, Steve.”

“You got it.” Steve smiles with sadness in his eyes but puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you as close as he can.

“Thank you.” You voice your gratitude, feeling something blossom in your chest you don't quite recognize; you'll think on that when you're not grieving.

Clearing your throat you begin, “Dear Eddie,” you pause taking a deep breath “the two weeks that past since you were laid to rest have been hell, or to be more precise, empty.” Your voice dropped an octive, feeling the sadness creep it's way up your body. “While I didn't see you die, Dustin told me how it happened, how brave you were in not running away. I always knew you were courageous.”

Chuckling softly you continue, “You said to Dustin to take care of the sheep because you– were going to graduate.” Tears pour from your eyes as Steve holds you impossibly closer.

“Honey, you're doing great.” He plants a kiss on your temple.

“You didn't deserve this fate. You deserved to have your name cleared with all of our help. Then, once you graduated, you'd get the hell out of Hawkins– or whatever you wanted to do as long as you were alive!”

Anger rose to the surface of your emotions, “Fuck the demobats. Fuck the upsidedown. Fuck Vecna. And Fuck Hawkins lab! All of them are culprits in taking those we care about away!”

Unbidden faces pop into your mind: Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney, and Max Mayfield, the last miraculously survived the attack with severe injuries but you still couldn't help but think of the others that have perished that had some sort of a connection with Hawkins Lab.

From the very first peculiar thing to occur with Will Byers all the way up to Eddie Munson. Those different faces, some good, some bad all had their lives taken from them.

A large flame has been lit within your body, you clench your fists, “He’ll pay for this…”

“Hun?” Steve questions with concern in his voice.

“Eddie Munson, I promise you, your death will NOT be in vain. Vecna will be defeated, the gates WILL close and Hawkins will go back to the way it was before all this fucked up shit happened. I don't yet know how it'll happen but I will not stop until all of this hell ends.” Anger infused with determination to end the hell that's been happening has come to life within you.

Wiping away the remaining tears that made their escape from your eyes with your forearm you close, “Love your Sweetheart, Y/n.” Shoving the crumbled note back in your pants pocket your knees buckle and you begin to sob heavily.

Steve embraces you fully, letting you cry in his strong arms, “That's it, let it all out hun.” Steve gently rubs your back, he feels your body tremble, “I've got you.”

Unbeknownst to the both of you an unseen friend of you both was watching the scene unfold in its entirety, “Well, damn, sweetheart. If I didn't know better I might think you were in love with a dead guy!” Eddie lets out a hearty laugh at the very idea.

“But I hope you'll be okay…” doubt plages Eddie's mind.

“She will be fine” a voice simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar to Eddie spoke gently.

“Yeah,” Eddie had no doubt in his mind now, you will be okay. “Harringtons got her.” Placing a translucent hand on Steve's shoulder, he says.

“Don't cha, big boy?”

Tag list

@andvys @melodymunson

#steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington #steve stranger things #stranger things #steve Harrington x !black fem reader #steve h x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #chrissy writes 🖊️#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem #steve Harrington x female reader #my writing

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fuctacles · 9 months

Text

Steve Harrington's Barbie-shaped thighs

now on Ao3 | final edit: 04.08

Robeen: Barbie tonight @ 5!!! Robeen: Dress accordingly OR ELSE Eddee: ????? Steef: 👍👍👍💅💅💅

Eddie did the best he could with his monochrome wardrobe. Which meant an impromptu thrift hunt. He found a tiny pink tank top and a vaguely 80s-shaped shirt he could throw over it. It didn't look half-bad, paired with high-waisted shorts and a couple of borrowed accessories (a pink belt and huge hoop earrings from Gareth's sister). He already owned a pink scrunchie - a gift from Steve - which he used to tie his hair into a high ponytail.

On the bus, he felt slightly self-conscious, making him realise how much he relied on his metalhead armour on a daily basis. The way kids dressed up these days and the fact that he wasn't the only one on his way to see Barbie helped him blend in. So while it felt that way, he wasn’t actually standing out.

As it turned out, definitely not as much as Steve.

While Robin decided to recreate the striped costume look to her best ability (the top and the bottom didn't really match but the reference was apparent enough), Steve decided on a pink tennis outfit, with a pleated skirt. He even shaved his legs.

His hair has grown out long enough to tie it into a tiny ponytail, which was, in Eddie's objective opinion, fucking adorable.

He approached his friends and, unable to help himself, tugged on the skirt.

"Somebody understood the assignment," he smiled teasingly, laughing when Steve swatted his hand away, straightening the pleats. “Aced it, even.” Then, both to preserve his sanity and socialize properly, he turned to Robin. “You both look great.”

"I can't hold a candle to our diva here."

Steve preened, twisting his hips so the skirt twirled around his thighs. Which again, fucking adorable. Eddie's queer heart was on fire. He wanted to tug on the hem of the skirt, play with the white collar, and tip the visor askew. Touch every part of the outfit and the person in it because Steve Harrington wore a skirt to a Barbie screening. It was like he wanted Eddie to die of a heart attack.

Thankfully, they arrived just in time for the movie to start and couldn’t ruminate on their Barbie-inspired outfits. When buying popcorn, Eddie lagged behind, hoping the view in front of him inspires him enough to maybe, finally, ask Harrington out. After the movie, perhaps. He’s heard great reviews so far, it may just give him the nudge he needs.

They found their pre-ordered seats and Eddie watched Steve's skirt ride up sinfully high when he crossed his legs. Torture.

"You look great by the way. Colours look good on you," his friend leaned in to whisper. The theatre was running the commercials and some people still talked at full volume, so it wasn’t like he had to do that. "You're wearing the scrunchie," he observed too.

"I am. I wear it all the time," Eddie answered with a frown, almost offended at the implication that he wouldn’t. He leaned back to look at Steve. His eyes were sparkling in the dim theatre.

"Yeah?"

He shrugged, playing it cool in front of The Boy.

"Yeah, just. Not in public."

In the comfort of his home, when he was practising guitar, doing the dishes, or cooking. Doing domestic shit alone, missing his friends. Thinking of Steve.

The commercials ended and the lights went off. Steve's fingers brushed against Eddie's arm as he pulled back to sit comfortably. Just a fleeting, accidental touch; Casual and friendly, but it left him reeling.

Eddie braced himself for almost 2 hours of sitting in the dark next to Steve's bare thighs.

Alas, no amount of bracing could prepare him for Steve's fingers against his skin, this time intentional and teasing. For how when he silently reprimanded him, knocking his knuckles against his knee half-playfully, he grasped them and pressed down, letting his hand rest on the bare skin.

For the second half of the movie, all Eddie could think of were shades of pink and soft skin.

#steddie #mine #Steve harrington in a skirt #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #modern au #steddie goes to see barbie #barbie #barbie 2023 #barbenheimer

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fastcardotmp3 · 8 months

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🌻august bookshelf🌻

july recs | recs tag

I really enjoyed putting together a little fic rec list at the end of last month and decided to do it again!

🌻driving in your car by @kkpwnall - when I say the ultimate pining Steddie fic I MEAN IT. the use of the car as this sort of central, grounding force within Steve's world and the way the testing of his tether to Hawkins and the people in it plays out here is stunning, not to mention the HANDS and the ronance going on stage left and the complete and utter tenderness lying just beneath the surface. perfection I am swallowing it whole

🌻clueless by @gothbat99 - such a lovely short & sweet slice of life in the summer after they win the war, it feels SO important in its simplicity that Nancy and Robin are getting to behave like young people, all free and hopeful and discovering how to want/ be wanted. made my heart so big and warm in only 1k words like THAT !!! is so impressive, so worth your time, will make your day better guaranteed

🌻Faces Freedom with a Little Fear by @fragilecapric0rnn - literally Steve family-centric character study of all time, come swoon over big sister JJ Harrington and watch as her presence in his life creates a fullness and richness of growth and self-realization LIKE. I could bask in this world for the rest of forever and never get tired of its sincerity and depth and siblingisms, what a heart-squeezing delight from start to finish

🌻haunted hawkins by @hellsfireclub - starts with the brilliant premise of "what if it's not just Hawkins?" and RUNS with it, giving not just beautiful ruminations on both Nancy and Robin as they start a journey towards figuring out just how far the paranormal spreads and also a journey towards mutual self discovery and (: lesbianism (: READ THIS FIC.

🌻then I see you, you're walking 'cross the campus by stellarpoint (@heybluechild) - a lovely little peek at Steve and Nancy's friendship coming back together after they've come into their own a little bit and Nancy being so, so brave in coming out to him. truly this made my heart so big and full and warm i am carrying them gently in the palms of my hands

🌻this must be the place by @judasofsuburbia - JARGYLE CAMPING. the tenderness of this, the peace offered to Jonathan when he hasn't ever really known such a thing, the way they just sort of slot together and find and choose and become each other?? it's got me all soft in the heart and THAT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN. illegal actually. I'm weak in the knees :((

🌻Young, Scrappy, & Hungry by @fragilecapric0rnn - politics ronance rivals to lovers WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?? perfect dynamics already and I can't wait to see where these girls go. the characterizations of them is so REAL despite the very different world of Washington they've been dropped into and my lesbian, TWW-loving ass is feeling soooo normal about them SO normal don't worry about it

🌻The Warmth Pulls by TheDeathsWish - I'm not fully caught up on this one yet, but it is genuinely one of the most unique AUs I've come across so I have to mention it here. It's still 1986 and it's still Hawkins, but the sci-fi overlay is switched out for more purely fantasy elements, including some very cool and beautifully revealed eccentricities and abilities of the characters. Steddie but also so hugely dependent on the ensemble of it all, which you know I eat up, I'm excited to keep working my way through this one!

P.S. if you read and enjoy any of these, please remember to tip your writers in kudos and comments!💛

#dot recs #fic recs #steddie #ronance #jargyle #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #jonathan byers #argyle stranger things #it's not the last day of the month but i'm going out of town tomorrow so here you go shhhh #will i manage to do this every month? only time will tell but for now i am making it happen!

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esoteric-chaos · 8 months

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Winter Solstice Masterpost - Spoonie Witch Friendly

The Winter Solstice typically lands around December 21st in the Northern Hemisphere (June 21st for the Southern Hemisphere).

Celebrates the arrival of the longest night, and the light returning after that.

The Winter Solstice is celebrated throughout history in many cultures. Traditional customs such as the burning of the symbolic log, the decorated tree, and wassailing.

Correspondences

Colours

Dark Green

Orange

Red

Gold and silver

White

Black

Blue

Herbal

Bay

Blessed Thistle

Frankincense

Chamomile

Peppermint

Rosemary

Lemongrass

Myrrh

Ginger

Cinnamon

Cardamom

Cloves

Nutmeg

Saffron

Pine

Cedar

Holly

Mistletoe

Cypress

Edibles

Citrus Fruits (oranges, lemons, limes, grapefruit, etc)

Root Vegetables

Baked goods

Roasted meat

Nuts

Dried Fruit

Stews

Soups

Pomegranates

Gingerbread

Cinnamon or berry breads, cookies, cakes, etc

Solstice log (edible version)

Cranberries

Apples

Eggnog

Hot chocolate

Mulled wine

Wassail

Mead

Spiced apple cider

Tea

Coffee

Animals

Deer

Bear

Goat

Reindeer

Robins

Pig

Cow

Goose

Owl

Fox

Squirrel

Any animal that hibernates

Crystals

Ruby

Orange calcite

Garnet

Amethyst

Clear quartz

Gold

Emerald

Diamond

Bloodstone

Green Calcite

Spiritual meanings & intentions

Rest

Goal setting

Gratitude

Peace

Beginning

Renewal

Kindness

Ritual

shadow work

Rumination and reflection

Self-care

Personal development

Divination work

Rejuvenation

Healing

Embracing the darkness

Solitude

Slumber

Celebrating with family and loved ones

Need some suggestions to celebrate? I got you covered.

High energy celebrations

Feasting with the folk

Homestead decoration

Creation of a symbolic log (to eat or burn)

Making a wreath

Volunteer/charity work

Creation of a solstice altar

Decorating a solstice tree

Renewal ritual

Low energy celebrations

Snow water

Making herbal fire starters

Lighting a candle for ancestors

Singing/humming

Mug cakes or easy bake cookies

No spoon celebrations

Thanking/writing gratitude

Company of loved ones

Eating premade desserts

Listening to music

How you celebrate the holiday does not matter. You can choose to do any activity that feels right. These are only suggestions and remember that you’re enough no matter what.

#Winter Solstice #winter solstice celebration #Winter Solstice correspondences #Winter Solstice magic #chronic illness #witchcraft #witch #spoonie witch #Wheel of the Year #sabbats #spoonie magic #pagan holidays

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pixel-percy · 5 months

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🐝 It's been a year since you last saw or heard from Jason Todd. His whereabouts are unknown to you or anyone else in the Bat family... Then one night an intruder finds themselves in the Batcave. 🐝

🐝 Word Count: 4.5k 🐝 Music Vibes: Anti-Hero by Taylor Swift 🐝 Warning(s): Superpowered reader, angst, smut (piv), hurt/comfort, blood/injury, infertility, enemies to lovers, unsafe sex (protect yourselves please) 🐝 A/N: I had originally planned for this to be a one-off inspired by a dream I had in the past about Jason but, if there's a desire, I could maybe be persuaded to write my other thoughts I've had about this universe 👀

The world was a blur when you awoke, the sound of notifications bombarding your phone. Your hand darted out wildly, snatching it up before it could tumble off the nightstand, and pulled it up to your eye line. It was the Batcomputer. With a quick toss of the blanket, your bare feet touched the cold tiles of the manor and your fingers snatched the robe sitting on the vanity. It offered more comfort than warmth, covering the silk fabric of your top and shorts and stopping just above your mid-thigh. You hesitated for a moment by the door, eyes falling on the desk beside it, and considering the knife in it. A gift to keep you safe if someone dared invade the manor… Even if you didn't truly need it.

You took it anyway.

With the item tucked in the pocket of your robe, you crossed the threshold of the room and into the hallway. The moonlight tumbled in through the windows and illuminated the path forward. A stagnant smell –one that always crept in with the lack of inhabitants– trailed through the space. You did your best to make Wayne Manor home after Dick passed it to you and the rest of the Bat Family moved on to their own lives, but it still felt like you barely lived there yourself. You were waiting, biding time until the inevitable return of… someone. Anyone. Mostly him.

It was mostly meditation and training yourself, ruminating about Bruce’s lessons before he passed, and generally supporting the Robins as they passed through. It wasn’t often, but it was always nice. With Alfred gone too, you did your best to make them still feel like they had a home here… But sometimes the loneliness was palpable. Repetitive days and training regimes. The same old coffee and breakfast. The same schedule.

So maybe tonight one of the Robins was paying a visit… At least that’s what you hoped.

The old clock in one of the side rooms was already open when you approached. The stagnant smell was replaced by fresh-cut grass and… blood. There was a sense of concern that washed over you, mind racing at the thought of someone you cared about being hurt, or an uninvited guest getting caught by one of Bruce’s many leftover traps across the premises. You hoped for familiarity but your hand still pulled the ornate knife from the robe’s pocket.

The descent into the Batcave was slow, slow enough for any unnatural sounds to reach you, the spiral dizzying in the dark, and the scent of the iron had begun to settle throughout the small space. You held the knife tight in your grasp, up by your chest, blade facing outward. The end of the spiral was in sight, the brightness of the Batcave gently pouring in.

When you finally emerged, your eyes settled on the trail of blood leading out into the cave. It was a stark contrast to all the blues and whites of the technology that lined every part of the space. Your eyes tracked it, feet guiding you carefully until you finally saw where it ended. The seat in front of the Batcomputer’s main hub was occupied by a man dressed in a black tactical suit with a bright red bat symbol printed on his chest and streaks of blood running down it. His head was lolled to the side, the bright technology of the space reflecting off of the red helmet.

“Jason…?” you asked, surprise evident in your voice. You wanted to let the anger that had built up over time persist, even through your concern, but you found yourself crossing the space in an instant. He didn’t move an inch, his chest the only indication he was still in the living world. “Jason,” you said louder and a little more firm. He grunted. “Shit!” A startled breath escaped you.

“I thought you would have changed the locks on me by now,” he said, voice gruff and filtered through the changer in the mask. A cough left him and was immediately followed by a pained gasp, hand gripping his side. You cursed under your breath and found yourself rushing to grab the closest first aid and a bottle of water before you returned. The box clattered a bit when you set it on one of the small corners of the Batcomputer desk before you turned back to him.

“Where are you hurt?” you asked, moving close to him to examine him further. Crimson pooled at the end of his mask and worry surged through you, settling in the pit of your stomach like you'd swallowed a boulder.

"You don't have to help," he grunted in an attempt to straighten himself up.

"I'm not in the mood for your stubbornness, Jason," you responded. Your eyes fixed themselves on the helmet above you, familiar and foreign all the same, and you knew he was looking at you.

Before he could say much else, your fingers were undoing the latches of his helmet until his hand snapped up to grab at your wrist. It was a surprise to you, the firmness of his gloved hand making your heart rate increase involuntarily. It wasn't mean-spirited or meant to harm. You stood your ground, eyes locked onto the carved-out whites, unspoken issues bubbling under the surface for you both.

He was nervous.

So were you.

Scared of all the things that had been left unsaid when he left one, two, six months ago. A year ago. A year in this place, waiting for this stubborn bird to return home… and here he was with a broken wing.

Jason gave in.

His grip loosened around your wrist just enough for you to continue your original task, but it slid down the skin of your forearm softly when you did. The fabric of the robe pushed back, bunching up just past your elbow, where Jason let his fingers come to a halt. They twitched, almost as though he wanted more comfort than he would allow himself. You knew him all too well. So the palm of his hand flattened against the skin on your arm until he had a grip firm enough to hold himself up. At least that's what you assumed

The mechanisms of the helmet gave way under your touch, fingers moving to each side of it to finally remove it from his head. You took your time, careful not to hurt him further despite the hiss you'd already heard come through the voice changer until it was finally gone.

It had been a long time since your eyes met without the mask and when you saw the cerulean irises surrounded by bloodshot whites, it was hard to look away. The crimson that painted the side of his face and caked into his stubble and his hair made it a little easier to get back on track.

"Where are you hurt?" you repeated, a little softer this time, a little more pleading. His gaze –that had been on the harder, more guarded side– softened a bit now that he could see your face.

"Already popped my shoulder back in," he started in his own soft tone. His eyes stayed on your face. "Bullets in my abdomen. Went straight through the Kevlar. Possible concussion." You nodded.

It was nice to hear his unfiltered voice. That familiar gruffness. The attempt to be standoffish. He could never fool you and it amused you that his time away made him think that would change.

The warmth of his hand left your arm as you peeled off the layers of his suit, careful not to agitate the three large bullet wounds that sat precisely where he'd mentioned. He didn't resist you.

On the contrary, he fell back into his familiar quiet acceptance of your help. This wasn't the first time you took care of him when he was injured, nor would it be the last. From broken limbs to thorns stuck in his skin from your garden, you were there to help him pick up the pieces. His grouchy, prickly nature eventually softened for you and you only, and his time away must have made him fall back into old habits.

Once you were done peeling the layers from his upper body, he leaned back to give you a better look at his wounds.

"Thankfully, they look clean through and avoided anything major," you mumbled loud enough for him to hear. You balanced a flashlight in your teeth to get a closer look, fingers touching the sites and making blood stream out. Part of you wondered who had been packing enough firepower to break through Batman-level Kevlar, and you realized you truly had no clue. Jason could have been anywhere, doing anything, Gotham wasn't the only place in the world. But it felt that way to you.

Jason remained quiet, eyes lulling every now and again as he watched you examine him. Exhaustion, blood loss, adrenaline wearing down, you did your best to move quickly and efficiently for his sake and yours. The water bottle sloshed when you took it from the table, the cap spinning off and clattering against the floor. You poured it into your palm, the liquid swirling in it for a moment before it smoothed its way up your arms, cooling the skin up to your elbow. Jason shifted only to give you better access to the wound, jaw tightening but no protests leaving him.

It had been a while since you had to nurse some serious injuries for one of the bat children. The last was a reluctant Damian at the behest of Dick after an assassin ripped through his arm with a poisonous blade. It was a long night and the vile of toxin you’d extracted sat proudly on a bookshelf you’d claimed in the Batcave. The collective family wasn’t the only one allowed to have souvenirs in this relic of a manor.

Jason’s eyes continued to be fixed on your face as you went to work patching him up. Your water-covered palm pressed to the first bullet wound, concentrating long enough to ensure it cleaned it thoroughly and only earned a deep breath through Jason’s nose as a response. His eyes were closed for the briefest of moments, until he felt your gaze lift to his face, and resumed watching your every move. It wasn’t unnatural or unfamiliar. No matter the situation, Jason always kept his eyes on you. For a long time, you thought it might have been because of the circumstances of your meeting or because he didn’t quite like you… But you’d learned that wasn’t the case a few months into your new living situation with the Wayne family.

The silence remained –save for some quick breaths or hisses from Jason– until you finished cleaning up the wounds, disposing of the used, crimson-infused, water in a nearby drain. After you patched up the wounds on his abdomen, a synchronized effort of him leaning forward and then back so you could wrap the bandages around the gauze, you got a fresh bottle of water to soak into a towel. Jason leaned back upon your approach, moving his legs further out so you could stand between them, and begin gently cleaning the blood from his neck.

Jason peered up at you, eyes softer than they had initially been, muscles in his neck flexing as you gently pushed the towel against his temple. He didn’t flinch as much when the material touched it, plenty of head wounds over his lifetime that it had become one of the least painful things to treat.

You did your best not to look down at him. You were mad. You had to be. Even if your heart ached at the sight of him, concern bubbling in your chest at his wounds like it always did… You had to be angry at him. How could he have left you for so long?

“You smell like lavender,” he said, voice a whisper for only you to hear. You stuttered for a moment. “Is it from your garden…?”

It was such an innocent ask, a touch base, and you felt a long breath leave your nose.

“Yes,” you offered. It was short, a bit dismissive, but still an answer. A smile tugged at one of the corners of his mouth, you saw the twitch, but he resisted.

“Are… my Petunias still alive…?”

They were. You made sure they were. Big, red, vibrant, and thriving even in his absence. Maybe it was your way of keeping hope alive that he’d eventually return to you. You had picked one and placed it on top of the copy of Pride and Prejudice you kept on your nightstand. Jason’s copy. It was aged pages, dog ears, long since dried blood stains on the edges of the pages from when he reread it on the mend, and a note scratched into the back from Bruce. It exuded comfort for him and likewise for you.

“Yes,” you offered again, softer than you wanted. The resolve you worked so hard to keep was cracking… Even more when you felt his palm slide past your robe and press wide and flat against the back of your thigh. You froze for a moment, towel stuttering against his forehead. He knew your tells just like you knew his. He knew you were angry at him, he knew you were trying to keep that energy, but he also knew you kept his Petunias alive.

The same way you helped keep them alive, even when he argued he wanted to do it himself because it warmed your heart the way he had picked out the seed packets with excited eyes. Something he tried to hide, of course, behind initial feigned displeasure when you suggested he pick something. His reasoning? “They’re red and they sound like a funny old lady name.” Like it was the most logical thing in the world. You didn’t mean to laugh, but you did, especially as an older woman walked by you both huddled in the garden section and shot a dirty look at him.

“You weren’t here to do it, so someone had to,” you said. It was laced with hurt and the lingering anger you felt dying down in your chest. When he said your name, all soft and gruff, it made you inhale deeply. You took in the overwhelming scent of copper and sweat and dirt and everything that shouted a fight that Jason might not have been prepared for. You managed a, “Please don’t.”

It was filled with anguish in a way only a lover could convey. A plea born from nightmares of loss and quiet comms and tending a garden that kept you tethered to the Earth. It helped you push through the nights you filled in for Babs, surfing through Oracle to assist the Bat Family to any degree you could… Hoping you’d hear him chime into any channel and tell you he was safe. That he was on his way home.

Jason’s fingers dug a little deeper into the flesh of your thigh.

The air was thick between you two. Unspoken words permeated the air, making it heavy and charged. The towel moved slower against his skin, its job nearly complete, but he didn’t need to know that. Your mind was caught somewhere in a whirl of pain and relief. Part of you wondered if this was just a dream but Jason’s grip felt too real, gloves long since removed and probably lying somewhere in the Batcave. The roughness of his palm, his fingers, a stark contrast to your skin.

“Bee,” he tried. Your jaw tensed at the pet name. It was his own plea, his own way of trying to break through the walls that you had built up in your time alone. A reminder of what you would now consider easier times. You didn’t respond verbally, holding as fast as you could, but your hand stopped. His eyes continued to bore into you.

Slowly, the hand that had poised itself on your thigh released and, instead, slid up to the hem of your silk shorts, lingering just long enough and squeezing just hard enough for a small hitch in your breath. Jason continued his travel over the material, snaking his way under the back of your shirt as he rose from his seat, grunts minimalized as much as he could. Your eyes moved from his exposed chest, a layer of light hair covered in the blood you had missed, to his face finally. He held your gaze so deeply, intimately, your anger had almost fully dissipated.

A gasp left your lips when his hand pulled you into him, despite his wound, his other hand tangled messily into your hair so that he could grip the back of your neck roughly. Jason’s lips met yours, hungry, desperate, and you could taste the same sense of relief that he’d made it back to you in the way he devoured your breath. You didn’t resist. You missed him. You thought he was dead… Yet here he was. Your little injured bird. The man that would overcome any and all odds to get back to you, even when he used to deny being just as devoted to you as you were to him.

“Jason,” you attempted between rough waves of his lips against yours. He offered a sound that was akin to a light moan, unwilling to part with your lips if he didn’t have to. “You’re… Injured…” Your words struggled against the onslaught. Truthfully, you were just overwhelmed by so many thoughts, questions, and emotions, it was hard to just enjoy the moment.

“I don’t give a shit,” he mumbled against your lips, his teeth grazing yours in a way that was so deliciously sinful that a knot in your stomach tightened. The feeling sent tingles through every neuron and electrified you as if you’d touched a lightning rod.

You moaned.

It was involuntary but, God was it the truth… And that was all you both needed for your dams to break. Everything felt like a blur.

Jason swung you around and pressed your lower back to the lip of the desk, His body engulfed you as he bent you back, body haphazardly against screens that could very well lead to some awkward scenarios if you weren’t careful. But it didn’t stop either of you. Even through his tactical pants, you could feel him, and the way he pressed up against your core had your back arching in response. You gasped and he groaned in response, mouth immediately finding the top of your breast so that he could sink his teeth into the sensitive flesh there.

It was like he didn’t know what he wanted to do with you, like he was overwhelmed with options, his mouth wanting to explore like all the times he had before.

“We shouldn’t… Here…” you managed between little hiccups of breath every time he bit down a bit harder than you’d expected. “Bed,” you ordered with all the strength you could find in your voice. He groaned, maybe growled a little, obviously protesting having to wait any second longer away from you. But he yielded.

When he pulled himself away, he took you with him, big blue eyes never leaving your face. Your hand laced with his and you led him toward the spiral staircase, careful to keep a steady pace. You stole glances back at him to see how he’d caught his lip between his teeth like he was doing everything he could to not throw you down on these steps or pin you against the wall. Part of you wanted him to.

By the time you reached the last step, it all started to blur again in your shared frenzy.

Jason was pressed against your back, hand immediately crossing your stomach, leaving a trail of heat behind, and descending until he found the spot he was looking for. The one that made your breath hitch as he rubbed it through your shorts, careful even despite his want growing. His breath was on your ear and his other hand gripped your breast. Your head lolled back against his bare chest, stumbling as you tried to make forward progress.

It was all intermittent foreplay as you crossed the manor.

A dance of courtship you both hadn’t done since you were allowed to call the manor home. An insufferable pair, sneaking make-out sessions and quickies between what should have been training. All fueled by loathing for much longer than you both should have let it go on. Everyone saw through the act, especially, Dick, but neither of you would give him the satisfaction that he’d been right.

Vases shattered when either of your bodies collided with a table, which Jason would easily lift you over before resuming your journey.

Fabric tore as he pulled it from your body, adding it to the trail of clothes you’d both left behind.

Paintings tumbled to the floor every time one of you would collide with its respective wall, your bare back or breasts pressed into the canvas before you swapped.

It was a flurry of hot breaths, teeth on skin, hands buried deep in places that yearned for it, and moans that echoed through Wayne Manor for the ghosts in the walls to be jealous of.

Your bird was home.

By the time Jason’s body collided with the bed you had shared for years, the one you had awoken in earlier in the night, you were both naked. The moonlight that peaked through the curtains provided light in the room, but neither of you needed it. Despite Jason’s eagerness, he slowed his pace when you did, careful to not inflict more injury upon him than you’d like.

Your hands roamed his skin, fingers gentle as they passed over old wounds you were familiar with and new ones that you’d question him about later. Jason’s hand found yours, bringing it to his lips to kiss and nibble at while he adjusted himself on the bed. Once he’d settled with his back against the frame, he pulled you easily onto his lap. You straddled him but neither of you made a move right away, breathy silence overtaking you both as you found each other’s eyes in the darkness.

You took a long, steadying breath, and allowed your forehead to touch his. There’s a small, sharp intake of breath, likely from his injury, but he made no attempt to move you. His hands were firmly placed on your hands, thumbs buried in the crease of your thighs as though you’d float away if he weren’t careful.

Jason’s nose nudged yours briefly, timid almost, and you responded in kind. His lips found yours so softly that it made you inhale, breathing him in deeply and letting your love for him travel through your body, rejuvenating you. Like plants bursting through concrete to be bathed in sunlight. That was your shared love.

It was the slightest movement, your closeness lost to you both until you felt him inside of you. A long, drawn-out moan left you both, Jason’s face buried in your neck and yours in his hair. He still smelled of sweat and copper and dirt, all things you were used to, all things that made no difference in this moment of time.

You took control of the momentum, hips lifting and swirling at a pace that was good for you both. It was overwhelming in all of the best ways. Every piece of you was on fire. Jason’s mouth placed kisses in all the places he could reach, sweet sounds tumbling from his mouth like petals every time you rocked your hips in just the right way. His teeth latched onto your nipple, a delicate balance of sensual and hungry as he pulled at the skin.

At some point, he’d snuck his hand between the two of you to touch you more, to pull more sounds and pleasure from you. Something he’d always been fond of doing. Anything to hear you call his name or gasp so loud others might hear. It didn’t matter to you. You’d let him do whatever he wanted to if it meant being close to him, knowing that he was the only one that made you feel like this.

Despite his slow movements, it didn’t take long for you to dig your nails into his back and tangle in his hair, tightening around him so much that he couldn’t take it anymore. A grunt of pain left him as he shifted, rushing to put you on your back, and pushed himself as deep as he could. You arched into him while he pulled his hips back and pushed them forward with a force that shook the bed. They weren’t fast strokes but they got him to the exact moment he’d been wanting. Desperately so. Likely more than you would ever truly know.

His entire body tensed, muscles noticeably tightening, and he released inside of you.

Neither of you cared. It was a caution you both threw to the wind years ago because of your resurrections. Likely improbable, from what you had been told. It had been years since that conversation with Alfred. Years since you’d shed those tears and heard Jason’s frustration. So, out of spite, you’d both agreed that this was acceptable. It was still acceptable, even after all the time he’d spent away from you.

The comedown was quiet. Never separating. Jason’s body lay just off to the side of you to not crush you, his breaths steady through his nose. You stroked his hair, coming back down to Earth with every second that passed.

“I missed you so fucking much, Bee,” he muttered, voice and tone so soft that it sent you back to late-night conversations and confessions that had passed. The bitter part of you wanted to be snarky, to respond with sass, but the better half of you could see something had happened that had even shook him to his core. There was still so much you wanted to say. To ask. But you couldn’t do it. Not right now.

“Me too… More than you know,” you whispered back, hand gently caressing his stubble-covered cheek.

Jason shifted, gently removing himself from you so he could start to sit up. He paused for a moment to look down at you. It seemed like he wanted to say more, but to both of your surprise, he was interrupted by someone else.

“So,” a vaguely familiar voice said, your attention snapping to the door frame as you pulled the comforter over your naked body. “She’s still alive in your universe… Good for you.”

The bitter words of a young Jason Todd carried itself to your ears. Your eyes widened as you looked at him. He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, donning a variation of the Robin suit, expression unamused.

Your gaze shifted to the Jason you knew, your Jason, who was sitting at the edge of the bed now. Annoyance was set in his features, unsurprised, as he gazed upon his younger self. That was until he turned to look at you. He held up his hand as a white flag. A plea in response to the anger and confusion he saw beginning to set in your brow.

“I can explain,” he said.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #jason x reader #jason x you #batman #batman fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #comics #comic fanfic #reader #reader insert #x reader

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dianneking · 1 year

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The Set-Up - Miranda/Reader (Top of the Lake: China Girl)

Crossposted on AO3 - if you prefer to read it there, follow this link!

Summary: Reader is crushing hard on Miranda, and yet somehow ends up on a date with Robin organized by none other than Miranda herself. Light angst, mostly Miranda being a hot mess tbh.

Tags: Mutual pining, jealousy, fake relationship, spying on people, Miranda being a clueless hot mess (as per canon), lil’ bit of angst, matchmaker!Robin, height difference, smoking, present tense, second person pov, ungendered reader. Words: 3767

The Set-Up

You watch as Miranda enthusiastically waves goodbye at Detective Griffin before coming to lean against the wall by your side. Wordlessly you offer her a cigarette out of your pack, and she accepts with a muttered Thank you, sticking it immediately between her lips and lighting it up. Maybe it’s because you are somewhat more tired, maybe it’s because today she looks particularly happy and it tugs at something deep within you, but today’s the day where you throw caution to the wind and ask her what you have been ruminating on for quite some time.

"So, what's the deal with you and Griffin, huh?"

"We're on another case together. It's a good one."

"Only that?"

"What else?"

"Come on, Hilmarson, are you really going to make me ask?"

"I... I don't understand what you mean."

"You two seem pretty close, that is all."

"We sorted out our differences."

"Isn't that just great?"

"What's wrong with you today? You are being more waspish than usual. Didn’t take enough smoke breaks?"

"Don’t try to change the subject. Are congratulations in order? Are you two an item now?"

"What? No!"

"...if you say so."

"We really aren't! She's like my sister or something. Is that what was pissing you off?"

"Of course not! Why would I care if you and Griffin were hitting it off?"

"Oh my god, it is. You are jealous."

"No I'm not"

"You so are!"

"Am not"

"Are too!"

"Piss off!"

You shove her playfully, but doing so makes you painfully aware of your height difference, and you feel suddenly very small and nervous. If your crush for Miranda is so evident that even herself can call you out on it, you are worse off than you thought you were.

You try to sneak a glance up at her, and you see her beautiful face corrugated in a frown, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. Has she already figured out everything? Maybe you should consider making a tactical retreat before you dig yourself too deep into a hole. But at the same time, you are not willing to give up any time the two of you spend together.

Damn. She's so out of your league it's not even funny, you think, watching how the warm glow of the afternoon sun shines through her blonde eyelashes. You should probably have been more careful in letting your feelings known, you think as the silence stretches on uncomfortably. Now there's going to be that embarrassed little dance of her trying to let you down and you telling her that it's okay (it's not), you understand (you do), and that you hope you two can still be friends (you really, really do). You are not ready to give up your smoke breaks spent together, all the laughter, the jokes, the heart to heart talks. Miranda is the brightest part of your day, and you'll be damned if you'll do anything to hurt your friendship.

"Hey I... I think you might have a chance, you know?"

"What?" You barely manage to choke out. Is she…

"Yeah, Robin is single you know. And you are witty and smart like her, you two would get on like a house on fire."

Oh no.

The implications of that sentence hit you like a cold shower. Is she really that clueless or is it some sort of joke? She's not the person to purposefully try to hurt you by mocking your crush, you know her well enough for that. You know she means well, and yet your heart sinks as surely as a rock in cold water. She's totally misunderstood, but that in itself is an answer.

"Miranda, that's not..."

"You know what? I can set you two up for a date!" She whips her phone out before you can try to get in a word, her tongue peeking out of her lips in a show of concentration as she types away. You try your best not to stare at her mouth as she does so, but you are entranced. So much so that you miss your only occasion to stop her.

"There you go!" she announces with a satisfied smile as the phone pings with Griffin's answer "She says she's up for grabbing lunch with you at Tony's tomorrow if you pay for it."

You try to swallow your disappointment, but it stays as a bitter knot in your throat. She might not be dating her detective partner, but she for sure isn't interested in you, if she's so quick to try set you up with her. She looks down at you, with so much excitement shining on her face that for a moment you get lost in those sparkling blue eyes. She's so gorgeous, and sunny, and kind. You really cannot be blamed for falling for her. It's just your usual rotten luck that she only sees you as a friend. So much so as to play matchmaker for you.

And you are so desperately in love with her that you cannot bring yourself to burst her bubble, to be the reason that her infectious smile drops from her lips, and so you don’t say anything. You don’t tell her that when the two of them storm through the station on their way to another case, or when they lean together, their heads close as they look at the computer screen together, it is not Griffin that you can’t take your eyes off from.

"So, what do you say?"

"Uhm…sure, I guess…"

“But of course, that’s what friends are for, isn’t it? You go get your girl!”

You shrug, trying to squash down the hurt that the word friend carries. You might as well go to this lunch with Griffin, hopefully you might be able to pull out of her whether Miranda is seeing someone else. Not that that would change much, would it? You should start trying to resign yourself to the fact that you really have no chance with her.

Also, Miranda looks positively giddy with excitement at having set the two of you up. Not when she has so resolutely stated that she only thinks of you as a friend. You are not going to make a fool of yourself confessing feelings that won’t be welcome and would only make your interactions awkward. Grabbing a bite with Griffin is for sure the lesser embarrassment of the two. Or at least the least damaging for your friendship. Because even if you can't have Miranda as your girlfriend, you are going to fight tooth and nail not to lose her as a friend.

You only hope that Griffin won't be an arse about it.

“Why are we even here? Didn't you have a huge crush on Miranda?”

Obviously, it had been too much to ask for.

“...”

“I’ll take that as a yes. So why let her set you up with me?”

“If you knew that already, why did you agree to this date?”

“I wanted some free lunch.”

“Oh wow. Way to make someone feel appreciated, Griffin.”

“And I was curious.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah, I wanted to see what she sees in you.”

“Nothing much, probably, if she tried to peddle me to you at the first chance she got.”

You try to keep the bitterness out of your tone, but you still bite viciously into your sourdough sandwich, and you can hear Griffin scoff.

“Oh please, it's obvious that she's pining for you just as much as you are for her.” You can feel yourself burning with embarrassment. Still better than the alternative, you remind yourself. It's just a lunch.

“I might even believe you if she hadn’t just put me firmly in the friendzone, so please, Griffin, can you drop this and just enjoy your free food?"

Miranda tries not to feel guilty as she peeks beyond the wall corner to watch her two colleagues through the window of the café. She just wants to see how the date goes, that's all. Since she's the one who made it possible and all of that, she feels somewhat responsible for it. Like a fairy godmother for your budding relationship. Her friend and her work partner hitting it off…that has to be a good match, right?

Everybody agrees that Robin is the absolute best detective in the station. And you...well, you deserve nothing but the best. And if you two work it out, she won't have to share her free time between the two of you, right? The three of you will be able to hang out together all the time, and all will be just grand. One big happy family.

She can see the two of you in conversation, and cannot help the nervous tapping of her fingers on the wall she's hiding behind. She can see you shrug, an embarrassed grimace on your face. She can see how red your ears have turned - she can't get over how cute you are when you blush. For all of your tough talk, she thinks affectionately, you really are just a big softie. Have you already told Robin of your crush for her?

What will her reaction be?

Maybe Robin will reject you, and of course Miranda will be there to help you through your heartbreak, to comfort you as you had done for her when her affair – it’s a relationship, babe – with Adrian had crumbled like a sandcastle built too close to the ocean. Because that’s what friends do for each other, right? And Miranda is very happy to be your friend.

She absolutely is.

Really.

It's just that…

It's just that sometimes she allows her mind to run free, and she finds herself wondering how it would feel for once to hold your hand as you lean against the wall outside the station side by side, how your hair would feel if she buried her hands in it, how your lips would taste if she were to… No. She really shouldn’t. You're her friend, and she's pretty sure normal people don’t think about kissing their friend.

Unless they have romantic feelings for their friend. And she surely doesn't. Does she?

…

Fuck.

She totally has romantic feelings for you.

How hasn't she noticed? How long has she been feeling this way towards you and mistaking it for friendship? Suddenly she feels like bashing her head against the rough brick wall. How could she have been so dumb? She has even helped to set you up with Robin! Wow, good job, Hilmarson. Great. Couldn't she have realised it like two days ago? Even for her standards - she's the first to admit that she has messed up multiple times in her life - that's one major cock-up.

“See? She's totally into you as well, she's even spying on our date.”

“That might just be because she is curious. If she wanted me, why would she try to set me up with you? Come on, Griffin, you must be smarter than this. Aren't you supposed to be the best detective in Australia or something?”

“Ha-ha, such a flatterer. Look, I know what I’m seeing. And lucky for you, I’ve got an idea.”

“Lord help us all.”

“What if I pretended to go along with it?”

“Griffin, I am flattered, but I thought we had already been over how I'm not interested in you.”

“That's why I said pretended, genius. She’ll see us together, get jealous and realize her feelings for you.”

“She won't. You might be a decent detective, but you suck at relationship advice. Oi! Remove your hand from mine, this is ridiculous.”

She shouldn't still be here, Miranda thinks, and yet she can't seem to be able to rip her eyes away from the way Robin has grasped your hand above the coffee table, her face opening in a lopsided smile.

This isn't fun anymore. Not since she's realised how badly she has fucked up in helping you two out. Miranda swallows, her eyes never leaving Robin as she slides out of her side of the booth and moves to sit beside you. She's never seen that sort of playful grin on Robin's face, unless she was totally hammered, and to see it when she's sober, and on a date with you of all people… Robin wants you too, doesn't she?

Well, of course she does. I mean, look at you, you are lively, smart, funny, attractive, and Robin might be many things, but she for sure isn’t blind or stupid. She has to know how much of a catch you are.

Miranda can only watch helplessly as Robin - the same Robin who refuses all sort of affectionate contact, struggling to even hug her own daughter - is leaning into you, nuzzling your neck, and whispering something in your ear. You jolt up as if electrocuted, and turn towards her, shock clear on your face. What has she said to you? Miranda feels like she's going insane, stuck on the outside looking in.

And then Robin chooses that moment to plant a kiss square on your lips.

Miranda turns tail and flees.

“What the fuck, Griffin?”

“It's gonna work, trust me. I know Miranda.”

Miranda leans against the wall next to the station, in what over the years she has come to think of as your spot. If she closes her eyes, she can almost fool herself into thinking you’re by her side, as you always are, cigarette dangling from your lips, always ready with a sarcastic quip, or a funny retort. Except you're not there. You're still on your stupid happy date, that she had pushed you into, like the moron she is.

She's been chainsmoking since she came back from spying on you, and the longer it takes for you to come back, the more harshly she pulls in the smoke between her teeth, trying to lessen her stress. Trying not to picture what you and Robin could be doing that's taking the both of you so damn long.

She tries to ignore the painful constriction of her heart at what her traitorous mind conjures up. The mere thought of Robin's small hands safely ensconced in your bigger ones, of her mouth exploring yours as Miranda had been dreaming of doing even before she recognized her feelings for you, of the two of you hugging or worse, makes her want to scream at the top of her lungs and hit something.

But she can't.

You're her friend, she should want you to be happy, shouldn't she? And if that means stepping aside and supporting you in your relationship with Robin, of course she'll do just that. Because Robin is the one you're interested in and there's nobody on earth Miranda can think is more different from her than Detective Griffin. Robin simply is everything Miranda has never been: petite, professional, smart, careful and precise. It's no wonder you like her and not big, clumsy, helpless Miranda.

Miranda, who's a terrible friend and cannot even support you wholeheartedly in your new budding relationship.

Miranda shakes her head, dropping the butt of her cigarette to the ground and moodily stepping on it. She should be happy for you, should be grateful to be allowed to be your friend, it's not like she has a whole lot of those anyways. The sooner she starts to accept the fact that there's no hope for anything more between you two, the better it'll be for her poor heart.

She just didn't expect it to hurt so much.

But what's taking you so long? Is that how it's going to be from now on? You and Robin, so wrapped in each other that you forget about Miranda, leaving her alone once again, cast aside, begging for scraps of affection from her friends?

She can feel the tears filling her eyes at the mere thought.

"You're back! How…how did it go?"

Miranda’s smile is too big, her eyes too watery for it to be sincere. For the first time you allow yourself to hope against all hopes that maybe, maybe Robin has a point.

But maybe you are just seeing what you want to see.

“Are you alright, Miranda?" Her laugh is high, nervous and ends up in a sort of hiccup as she clumsily claps you on the shoulder, rocking you with the strength of the impact.

"Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be, there’s a new, blooming romance in the station! And between my best friend and my partner, to boot! Isn't that just grand? Are you gonna tell all the others about it, or should I tell them and save you the pain?”

Her happy-go-lucky voice is so fake it twists your heart and almost makes you miss what she has said.

“Nonono, there will be no telling anything to the others!”

The last thing you need is for the whole fucking station to think you and Griffin are an item. You wouldn’t hear the end of it. It’s already bad that Miranda thinks that. And hopefully you can somehow clear that up.

“Is that something Robin asked you? Does she want to keep you as her dirty little secret? You shouldn’t settle for that! You deserve more!” She gesticulates wildly at this, her hands cutting the air with agitated gestures, as she defends your honor against imaginary slights.

“That’s not it, Miranda. It’s just-“ But she cuts you off before you can get a word in.

“You shouldn't hide your feelings! You two are totally made for each other. Go be unapologetically together!”

"Why are you so adamant in pushing us together?" You finally snap, irritatedly. She's not making any sort of sense. She's trying so hard to get the two of you together even if it's obvious that she's not happy in the least about it. And even though you are starting to think more and more that this might all be a huge misunderstanding, it cuts to hear the woman you love trying so hard to set you up with someone else. What if Robin wasn’t right? What if Miranda really only saw you as a friend and nothing more?

"What do you mean? Didn't the date go well? You sure looked like you were hitting it off pretty well, and you took your sweet time, too." She mutters the second part softly, as if it has come out of her mouth without her really wanting to, then promptly blushes a deep red.

You always found her adorable when she blushed.

"Miranda, I need to know it, why were you spying on us?"

"Oh god, you saw me? I… Uhm I…I just happened to drop by Tony's, I had totally forgotten that the two of you were there. So I uhm hid, because I didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for you. Hehe, that’s all."

"Is… Is it possible that you might like me?" You throw all caution to the wind because really, at this point you need a clear answer.

"No!" She answers too quickly "Of course not! You are my friend. I like you as a friend!" Hope stirs once again, but you don't dare to believe it quite yet. Not while she keeps denying everything.

"Miranda, you are many good things, but you are a terrible liar."

She suddenly rights herself from where she was leaning against the wall and makes as if to move towards the station.

"Well, I…I need to go. I just realized that my lunchbreak was over like five minutes ago and I-"

You stop her, a hand on her wrist, and a pleading tone to your voice.

"No, please. Stay. I…"

She stops, but she stays with her back to you. When she speaks, her voice wavers ever so slightly.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, I know what you want to say.”

“You…do? ‘Cause it seems to me that this is all a huge misunderstanding.”

“Of course. A misunderstanding. Sure, that’s one way to put it. Just another big clumsy mess, made by big clumsy Miranda. I guess we’re used to it by now, aren’t we?”

She turns now, and you are shocked to see tears streaking down her face.

“That’s not what-“

“It's OK,” she interrupts you once again, angrily wiping the wetness off her face as she looks at you with a solemn, sad look into those beautiful big blue eyes of hers, “I know that you like Robin, I would never do anything to ruin your chance with her. You really make a perfect couple, I am serious about it. I just need a little time to adjust.” Her voice is picking up speed, as if it's impossible to stop now that she's started, “I am so grateful to have you as a friend, it's not like I expected you to return my feelings. Hell, I didn't recognise them for what they are until I saw the two of you together. And I would never let something like that ruin our friendship. Everything can stay perfectly the same, even if you are with Robin and…and I know I am a terrible friend that has fallen for you after setting you up with your crush but I want you to be happy and please don't hate me."

You blink under the onslaught of words she's unleashed on you, and when she abruptly stops, all that can be heard in the small alley to the side of the station is her heavy breathing, as if she had just run a marathon. Her shoulders are shaking and you can't see her face, dipped as it is into her collarbone in shame.

Your heart breaks at seeing her like this, at the sheer thought that Miranda could believe even for one second that you hate her.

You stand right in front of her, cradling her red, downturned face in your hands, tilting it ever so slightly up from where it was staring at the pavement, so you can once again look directly into her beautiful blue eyes, now swimming with tears and swirling emotions.

She's such a mess, you think affectionately. But she's a lovely mess with the biggest of hearts, and you wouldn’t want her any other way.

"Miranda, I could never ever hate you. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I… I think I love you."

"As…as a friend?"

"No, dearest, no, not as a friend."

And you hope there's no mistaking your intentions now as you press your lips to hers in a kiss that the both of you have been daydreaming about for way too long to admit.

Liked it? You can find more of my fanfiction on my masterlist!

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