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leviathanspain · 5 months

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hii 💌 can I request some angst with president!coryo & victor!reader, same plot line as tbosas basically, he was once her mentor & now she’s his first lady

except the quarter quell with former victors happens earlier & he deliberately leaves her name out but she ends up volunteering instead

his first lady

coriolanus snow x victor!reader

synopsis: after years of hiding from the public, ashamed of your past and your husband, you discover the only way to end this, is with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he had lost his mind.

in the five years since your games, you had married the man who had given dr. gaul the ideas and tools to continue with the annual hunger games. he had also been the man to mentor you, showing you to an audience to get them to love you, simultaneously he fell in love with you.

he was powerful, you knew you couldn’t reject his advances, not while you were stuck behind the bars of the capital zoo. so you held his hand, listened to everything he said, winning as he promised you would.

only then did you hope that his attention on you would end, and you would be free to return home to your district, to put this part of your life behind…

except it haunted you, every day, every waking moment.

you never returned home, you never saw your parents again after being reaped, he became president, and you became his wife; his first lady.

and now, president snow stood on that stage, smile blazing as he announced that the fifteenth annual hunger games would reap its tributes, from the existing pool of victors.

he had truly lost his mind.

you gripped tigris’ arm as you watched coryo on the screen. he had just announced the changes, and you were left shocked.

tigris gulped, “i doubt he would leave your name in there.” she comforted you, “he would never do that-“ she paused, and you knew it was hesitation.

you stared at the screen, watching as the symbol of panem graced the screen, and you knew he would be home soon.

you shook your head, still in disbelief. you didn’t know what to think, coriolanus’ morality scale had gotten worse as the years went by and more power came, you were unsure what he would do to anyone, let alone you.

he loved you, more than you loved him. you never forgave him for what he did to sejanus, and coriolanus knew that, but he had made it known that as long as you were alive, he would never divorce you. his little loose end.

this could be the means to an end. if coriolanus was as smart as he was told, he would leave your name in, hope for the possibility to send you to your death, tying his loose end completely.

tigris stared as you grabbed the tv clicker, clicking the buttons to turn off the awful song that blasted with the logo. it wasn’t working, tigris tried to help you with it but your frustration over the games led you to slam the clicker into the tv screen, promptly breaking the screen.

coriolanus came home to a dark house. all the lights had been shut off, and he could still smell tigris’ perfume, lingering in the living room.

he set his bag down, taking off his coat and laying it down on the couch. he could see light emanating from the bedroom, and he could hear your soft singing.

coryo smiled, slowly walking down the hall, pushing the half cracked door open, seeing you on the bed. your nightshirt hung off your shoulder slightly, and your hair was loose. you looked beautiful, in the dim candlelight.

“my lady.” he greeted softly, bed dipping as he sat on his side. you turned, closing the novel you had been reading. you smiled softly, “coriolanus.” he frowned slightly, going in to give you a kiss, but you turned around to put your book away, effectively dodging his kiss.

“you’re upset.” he knew it immediately, you never called him coriolanus, not unless you were mad at him. usually he was called coriolanus every hunger games, as long as each games lasted. he had known eventually it would start up again, but this was far too early.

you didn’t say anything, opting to shrug as you stood up, pulling the sheets up.

coriolanus watched you get into the bed, snuggling into the snow white sheets, trying to avoid the conversation all together.

coryo stood up, removing his shoes and tie, “you saw the announcement.” he deduced, having put it together from the faint scent of his cousin’s perfume. “i didn’t want you to see it, i wanted to tell you myself-“ he kept undressing, and you sat up abruptly, “you had all morning to tell me what you had planned, but you let me go on about my day, let me think of you fondly and for you to announce that?!” you couldn’t help the tone of voice that you took with him, sometimes he was just irrational that not even you could get through to him.

he laughed softly, “so you wouldn’t have thought of me fondly if i had told you before the rest of the country?” he pulled the sheets on his side of the bed up, pulling them up to his chest as he turned to face you.

your back was resting against the pillows, arms crossed as you continued, “why would you do that, coryo?” your voice cracked, and his expression softened. one of his only weaknesses’ was you crying, whether it was someone else’s fault or his, it was a wretched weakness. “the victors are victors for a reason, why do we have to fight for our lives, all over again? hmm, haven’t we done enough?” you felt tears on your cheek, and you sniffled slightly.

coriolanus shook his head, “y/n, i took your name out.” he grabbed your thigh, “you won’t even have the chance of being reaped. you’ll just stand pretty on stage and watch the others get reaped.”

the others.

“you mean the children that i mentored to fight to the death and win?” you couldn’t see him through the puddles of tears in your eyes. you could only keep crying.

coriolanus stared, watching you sniffle and dab your tears away. he didn’t know what to say. this was his country, but you were his wife.

“just stand there y/n, they’ll be room for tears later.” he spat, and you stared at him in disbelief. coriolanus had become cruel, shrewd in his ways. this was a perfect example of one of the many ways he had changed.

you hauled yourself out of the bed, staring at coriolanus as you stomped out of the room. you had plenty of extra rooms in the house, and decided to go into one, leaving coriolanus to sleep in the bed by himself. he called after you, but you ignored him as you locked the door behind you.

you hadn’t seen so many people gathered in a long time. they stood in rows, long rows that seem to never end from where you stood. you stood next to the other tributes from your district, younger than you, eyes full of pain and sorrow.

the bowls containing their names were placed in front, one for the girls, and another for the boys. you knew your name wasn’t in there, coryo had said, ‘nothings changed’.

you listened carefully as the female victor was announced. valora grove, the young girl who you had just mentored this last hunger games. you watched as she hesitated to step up, face stricken with fear, this was happening to her all over again.

“i volunteer!” you panted, stepping up as you held a hand out, blocking valora from walking any further, “i volunteer as tribute.” you repeated, chest falling heavily as you stared out into the crowd, their faces displaying plain shock.

president snow’s wife, the first lady, the tenth annual hunger games victor, had just volunteered.

coriolanus must’ve just heard the news, because as you stood forward, accepting of what was to come, you were promptly escorted from the stage by peacekeepers, thrown into a car and driven straight back to the capitol.

coriolanus was furious, you knew. you knew your husband better than anyone in the world, better than his own family. he knew you well too, but you knew this was something he hadn’t anticipated, a small crack in his plans.

“you better hope i die.” was the first thing you said to him as the car doors open, coriolanus angrily gripping onto the handle. he stood there, fuming, “why y/n? why would you do that, you know that i can’t-“

“what? stop the games? of course not, that would make you look bad, coriolanus. but that’s exactly why i did it. you have no choice.” one thing that coriolanus had forgotten about you, was that you were smart, and usually, always one step ahead of him.

“i’m still a loose end, president snow.” you reminded him, stuck staring at his piercing blue eyes as his expression warped.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coryo x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow imagine

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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It’s Dustin who saves Eddie.

He doesn’t try and carry him back to the trailer, nothing like that—if he could manage that on determination alone, then he would, but his throbbing leg has other ideas.

So he stays by Eddie’s side. Throws off his hoodie and starts to rip any piece of his clothing that he can, because he’s come a long way from when he once stuck bandaids on Steve’s beaten up face.

“What… what are you doing?” Eddie says in between gasping breaths.

Dustin would laugh if he wasn’t so scared. “Buying more time,” he echoes. Then he looks Eddie right in the eye and adds, voice wavering, “I’m really fucking sorry in advance.”

He takes a deep breath and presses the material to Eddie’s chest with force.

Eddie screams.

Dustin grits his teeth. Keeps going.

He creates makeshift tourniquets for Eddie’s arms, keeps tearing at his shirt, then takes it off entirely to use as a larger bandage, ignoring the shock of cold against his skin; the only thought in his head is that he has to stop the bleeding.

Eddie’s hand finds his bare shoulder. Squeezes weakly. “Tha’s enough,” he slurs. “D-Dustin, stop.”

And Dustin only does what he says because it doesn’t look like any more blood is soaking through the material. He keeps pressure on the worst of the wounds, tries to keep his elbows locked, as if that will stop his relentless shivering.

And when he looks up, he sees a tear fall from Eddie’s eye, down his temple, into his hair—and Dustin somehow knows that it’s not from pain alone, that Eddie’s crying just because he can see how cold he is.

“M’sorry,” Eddie whispers. “Never meant for… for you to—”

“Shut up,” Dustin says, then hastily amends, “Actually, don’t shut up, just—just stay awake. They’ll be back soon, okay, Steve and Robin and Nancy, and they’ll—”

“Steve,” Eddie agrees. His voice goes up and down, like a little song: “Steve, Steve, Steve.”

“Yeah, he’ll—hey, Eddie, eyes open.”

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie says faintly. “Eyes… oh, forgot to… you were right, H-Henderson, he’s… a badass. S’got pretty eyes, too, like wow. Pretty, pretty…”

And…

Well. That’s a development.

“You can tell me all about Steve’s pretty eyes if you keep yours open.”

And Eddie’s eyes do jolt open at that, like he’s received an electric shock. He groans in mortification.

“Jesus Christ. Didn’t mean to—fuck, feel like I’m drunk, man, I can’t… just kill me.”

Dustin thinks he probably would have found that request funny if Eddie wasn’t saying it through teeth flecked with blood.

Still, he does let out a strangled, hysterical giggle when he says, “I know how to keep you awake now.”

Eddie groans again. “Spare me the—”

“He sings in the shower, like, full blown Elvis impression, all that jazz. And he denies having lucky socks, but he wears the same pair whenever Lucas has a basketball game.”

“Huh?” Eddie says eloquently.

“Pay attention, dude, you need to know what you’re getting into! Oh, he said when he went to see The Fox and the Hound, he cried.”

Eddie chuckles. “That’s… oh, that’s sweet.” He smiles, eyes bright, and Dustin suddenly knows that they’re gonna be okay. “Keep going?”

Dustin does. He talks about how Steve always says, “Two for joy,” even when he sees a singular magpie, because he reasons that the second one is always just hiding. How he eats ice-cream too fast, does a comical hop in place when he inevitably gets brain freeze. That whenever he happens to pick up Dustin from school, he almost always has a Simon and Garfunkel tape playing, sings along to At the Zoo as he turns out of the parking lot.

Dustin doesn’t mention the Farrah Fawcett spray; a promise is a promise.

Eddie seems pretty damn well entertained with what he’s been given, anyway. He keeps smiling, lets out breathy chuckles that give Dustin hope: that he still has enough energy to laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’m awake,” he says, “I’m so awake, jus’… you just relax.”

And it’s only when Dustin stops talking that he realises his teeth have been chattering the whole time.

Eddie gives an unhappy sounding hum, and his hand comes up to clumsily rub at Dustin’s forearm.

“Your lips are blue.”

“I’m f-fine.”

A sudden desperate yell splits through the air; Dustin didn’t know that Steve could sound quite like that.

“Here!” Dustin shouts as much as he can.

He hears three people running; Steve gets there first.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Steve,” he says, and Dustin’s seen enough movies to think that this could be it, the big moment, or at the very least that Eddie’s about to give another wandering speech on Steve’s eyes.

But instead—

“Steve, Steve,” Eddie repeats, “Dustin’s cold.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says; he’s already taking off his jacket, shoving Dustin into it with this frantic mixture of urgency and care.

Dustin’s shivers get even more pronounced as the jacket’s zipped up, as the warmth from Steve’s body heat hits him.

“Think E-Eddie’s—b-bleeding stopped,” he says, accidentally biting on his tongue thanks to his chattering teeth.

Steve looks over Dustin’s handiwork, eyes shining. “Yeah, you did good,” he says, choked, rubs his hands down Dustin’s forearms more effectually than Eddie had. “You did so good.”

“You must’ve been wearing your socks tonight, Harrington,” Eddie says.

Steve stares at him. It’s only when he starts to laugh that Dustin realises he’s crying at the same time. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Shh, s’okay,” Eddie says. “I cried at th’movie, too, don’ tell anyone. S’not fair what… s’posed to be a happy endin’…”

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, says, deadpan, even with a tear-streaked face, “Doc, I think we’re losing him.”

Dustin whacks him on the arm, because it’s so stupid, it’s so Steve, and, God, they're really gonna be okay.

“Dustin’s th’best doctor,” Eddie chants, “best, best, best…”

“Yeah, he’s a goddamn superhero,” Steve says sincerely.

There’s a look Steve has on his face while he lifts Eddie up, a fleeting softness right before he goes back into planning mode, scanning the trailer park in case of any more threats; where Eddie’s fingers curl around Steve’s neck, and Steve smiles down at him, and…

Dustin would put a bet on Steve thinking Eddie has pretty eyes, too.

At least, he would if he could stand up.

When Steve clocks his leg, his jaw works a couple of times before he speaks. “Hey, Robin, Nance?” He raises his voice, looking to some point in the distance. “Could you—help Dustin up, I’ve—uh, kinda got my hands full.”

His tone is light, but his chin trembles just a bit, like he might break down at the thought that he can’t carry Dustin out of here, too.

“Okay, c’mon superhero,” Robin says, suddenly by Dustin’s side; she counts down, and then Dustin’s being carefully lifted up, an arm flung around Nancy, too.

“I’m okay,” Dustin feels the need to say. Robin and Nancy are out of breath, and he can’t help noticing the vivid red marks around their necks.

“Yeah, you will be,” Robin corrects.

“Is—is Eddie—?”

“Look, he’s right in front,” Nancy says. “Steve’s got him.” She lowers her voice and when she says, “You were really brave, you know,” Dustin has to swallow a lump in his throat: for a moment feels thirteen years old, her hand in his at the Snow Ball.

And she’s right; Eddie is right in front. Dustin can see him trailing a hand up and down Steve’s arm, slow and soothing, and he’s talking, just too far away to be heard.

For a few steps, Dustin thinks that Eddie must be spilling more of what he’s learned, regurgitating the anecdotes.

But then Robin and Nancy pull him a little closer. And he can read Eddie’s lips.

He’s okay, Eddie is saying, looking away from Steve’s face to find where Dustin is. He’s right behind us, sweetheart. He’s okay.

#dustin henderson fic #eddie and dustin #steve and dustin #steddie with dustin’s pov #henderfam #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #steve harrington #eddie munson #i couldn’t resist the music reference it’s a song i love but wasn’t coming up in nbtdad ❤️#dustin and nancy

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blondephenobarbitol · 5 months

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If there's one thing TGWDLM fans are gonna do, it's think about the implications. And the implications of the opening number are crazy.

So. We know that the show isn't completely chronological since the opening number takes place before the meteor hits. So that song is a sort of "flash forward" moment. But when you think about it, we don't really know how far in the future it takes place.

What we do know is that by the time it's happening, Emma is infected. She has a little solo in it singing about how Paul is pining over a barista

And we know that this is meant to be an infected Emma specifically. Lauren had other characters in the show, if they wanted to avoid the Emma implication they would've just dressed her as one of those.

So we know this is meant to be Emma.

And Emma isn't infected until the very end of the show. She's dragged off stage during the credits. So since she's infected in the opening number, we know the number takes place after the events of the show.

Another important detail is that Paul is infected before Emma. He's the one that passes it on to her.

So back to the opening number, Emma is infected. Which means by just following a simple timeline, Paul must also be infected. He should be singing and dancing, right?

But that's not what happens. Paul misses his entrance.

If Paul is infected, then there's no reason he should be missing his entrance. Furthermore, if he's a part of a hive mind, there's no reason other members of the same hive mind shouldn't know where he is. They are literally all connected by one brain, and yet both Mr. Davidson and Bill express they have no clue where he went.

What I'm saying is that Paul is not infected. He was infected (again, we know that because Emma is infected and he was infected before her) but now he's not anymore.

I'm saying there's a way out of the hive, and Paul found it. That's the only explanation that makes sense given the facts of the situation. Sometime after the events of tgwdlm, Paul is able not only to break out the hive mind, but to hide from it.

And if he broke out, others could do the same. Maybe even Emma.

Edit because a countertheory has emerged: Yes it's possible that everyone is infected the entire time and the show itself is just Pokey replaying the events for the fun of it. But it seems unlikely to me. First of all, each of the Lords in Black has a distinct personality. They all are evil, but within that they seems to fall somewhere on a spectrum of "silly billy" to "prick." For example, Tinky is more of a silly billy. He toys with humans without much of a motive and more for just shits and giggles. But in every instance, Pokey's more on the extreme side of prick.

He's one of the few with an actual motive behind what he does. In Yellowjacket, it's confirmed that Pokotho hates the sound of anyone's voice except for his own. The events of TGWDLM don't happen because Pokey is bored, they happen because he is executing a plan. So I don't think that he would just have them play out their little scenario just to entertain him, especially just one small island? I just feel like he'd be more focused on world domination.

If the theory is that all this is happening after Pokey's already taken over the whole world, no one was successful in stopping him, then yes it's plausible, but still weird. There are a strange amount of things in that show you just think an eldritch god wouldn't include.

Edit 2: New evidence has emerged???

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is loosely based off of Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Paul's last name is even a nod to the main character, Matthew. At the end of the film, Matthew survives, and continues living among the infected, pretending to be one of them. And wouldn't that be just such a fun little parallel...

Obviously it doesn't prove anything but the source material doesn't lie folks.

#the implications #starkid #hatchetfield universe #hatchetfield #paul matthews #emma perkins #tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #npmd #black friday musical #theory #fan theory #jon matteson #lauren lopez

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etfrin · 4 months

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter one | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus is his own warning, elitism

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus finds out the plint prize won't be his, at least for now but the district twelve girl belongs to him

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 here's the first chapter ;)) hope you like it?! Remember to give feedback guys! And beta read by @nowitsmissing

series masterlist | series taglist | navigation

previous : prologue

Coriolanus Snow wakes up to his grandmother singing the Panem national anthem. He quickly takes a shower, trying to ignore the squeaks of rats in his bathroom. He rubs himself clean, turning his skin red from the raw scrubbing. He stops as his fingers brush on the scar tissue he has on his wrist.

He takes a deep breath, not letting his mind wander off to you. It's the reaping day. It's the plinth prize. A prize he was going to win. You were of no importance today, or ever for that matter.

But still, he can't help but imagine that the date was etched on his skin. The numbers were written with ink darker than the night, now all that remained was an ugly scar that gave him a nastier remainder.

He shakes himself out of it. His hands grab a towel to dry himself. He fixes his curls, trying to make them as stylish as possible. He has a reputation to keep up after all. Thankfully, today wasn't one of the days in which his eye bags were obvious, the hollow of his cheeks too obvious due to lack of food.

He looked surprisingly healthy like any privileged Capitol citizen would look like.

He gets out of the bathroom to go to his grandma’ams. He gives her a note on her singing of the national anthem before asking her where Tigris is. Just on cue, Tigris bursts in.

Her voice was excited, her face all smiles. She hands him a shirt, his dad's old dress shirt renewed with tesserae buttons. He wore it, letting his cousin rant about the process of it all. Even though he had no interest in listening, it was a thank you in his way.

He pins the rose given to him on his shirt. Teasing his family members about new dresses and chocolates. He was going to win the Plinth Prize, nobody could take this away from him. It was his right.

In the academy, he chats with his inner circle. Making snide comments about Sejanus and his Ma. That's when you come in, a drink in your hand. Your eyebrows are raised as you look at Arachne with barely hidden disgust.

Fuck, you looked stunning in your dress. He has to dig his nails into his palm to remind himself not to stare. Why are you torturing him by being so pretty? You're just a district girl, you had no business having such beauty.

“Tell us who won,” Arachne said with her haughty voice, “Your boy toy surely would have spoiled it by now.” You laugh in response.

A small giggle escapes your lips. You don't take offense by having Sejanus being called your boy toy. Coriolanus wants to furrow his eyebrows from your reaction. Were you and Sejanus dating? No way in hell. Even if you're district, you're better than Sejanus in every way. He wants to scowl at the implications.

(You're his, his, his)

“I wouldn't dare ruin his big day, Arachne,” Sejanus's voice rings out instead, him standing behind you. His arm around your shoulder. “People may not like my father but they do love his money. Surely you can relate?” Sejanus grins.

“Funny,” Arachne replied with a sneer.

You rolled your eyes, “Don't be mean, Sej.” You sip your drink and Coriolanus’ eyes can't help but follow the movement of your tongue poking out to lick your lips clean of the drink. His eyes also glare at Sejanus's hand on your shoulder, a part of him wishing he could break his arm.

You turn to Coriolanus. “Nice shirt,” you comment with a smile, and Snow can tell it's more genuine than anything you flashed at the rest of your classmates. He feels himself flush at the compliment. Not even stopping you even though he should because why should your dirty hands touch him? But he doesn't stop you when your fingers reach out to delicately touch the red rose pinned to his shirt.

“Such a beautiful flower,” you mutter in fascination, “and fresh too.” You tear away a rose petal, crushing the poor thing between your fingers, the tip of your fingers turning red.

He watched, no thoughts in his mind but he knew he should be offended. It has been ten years of your behavior he had endured, yet not once could he open his mouth to insult you.

How weak had you turned him since day one. If anyone knew, he would be ruined.

“Did you have to do that?” Clementia frowns, “Flowers are significant to the Snows.'' You only smirk in reply to Clementia. “I see,” you comment, before taking Sejanus's hand in yours.

You begin to walk away but Snow sees you turn around for a split second. Your eyes meet his and your lips form a word. Sorry. He mouths back, ‘ It's fine. ’

You smile at him and turn back, walking towards the chair where the top 24 seniors are supposed to sit, waiting for the announcement. You had let go of Sejanus’ hand by then, letting relief fall over Coriolanus.

Coryo's fingers rub the scar tissue over the fabric of his shirt. It was going to be fine. Over the years, both of you have grown up a lot. Despite having district blood, you consider yourself Capitol more than Sejanus did. You had adjusted first, and even if your peers didn't accept you, their families were certainly charmed by you during the galas.

You were smarter than Sejanus. You were better than Sejanus. Certainly, you couldn't be compared to the Capitol citizens, but you were worthy in Coriolanus' eyes. That doesn't mean he accepts you as his soulmate. That's something that won't ever change, however, the pride he felt towards you is something he couldn't control.

Coriolanus sits between you and Sejanus. He liked the fact that he was in between like a border neither of you should cross. Sejanus whispered to him, his voice grating but Coriolanus heard what he said.

“I know you had high hopes for this,” he whispered, “But there won't be no Plinth Prize. Not today.”

Coriolanus freezes as he hears what Sejanus means. What does he mean by no Plinth Prize? Never in history is that possible. Sejanus must have been mistaken. That's it because otherwise, everything in Coriolanus Snows’ life would go to hell.

However, Sejanus wasn't a liar nor did he make a mistake. Dean Highbottom soon revealed that the 10th annual Hunger Games and the mentor who won will win the prestigious prize Coriolanus needs. Livia Cardew, the girl he loathed, got someone from district one. Sejanus, the lucky bastard, had gotten someone in district two.

You had gotten the boy from district twelve. Someone named Jessup. The boy was healthy, fit, someone who could win under your guidance. Anger blooms in Coriolanus' chest, he tries hard to control the urge to not throw a chair at Dean Highbottom.

Even God wouldn't be so petty as the dean is. For reasons unknown why. The district twelve girl was his. Lucy Gray Braid.

Her makeup is jarring, she was wearing a dress that reminded him of clowns if they used more colors than red and white. The only thing good about her was how she captured attention despite the fact she had already insulted Snow by creating a facade in the reaping.

You can't take my sass

You can't take my talkin'

You can kiss my ass!

He looked at you when he heard the last part. A part of him craved your reaction, surely out of everyone, you wouldn't mock his tribute. You were district yourself after all. You wouldn't mock your people.

What Coriolanus Snow forgot was that you were his soulmate. And in no way the fates would allow his lover to be a saint, an angel as he had hoped for. You were anything but.

You had cruel amusement gleaming in your eyes. A smile of triumph on your lips as if you're sure that you will win the Hunger Games and not him. You turn to him, your eyes hiding the cruelty. You lean forward and Coriolanus counts to ten in his head so his eyes don't fall on your lipstick-stained lips.

“May the best man win,” you whispered, a smirk on your face, filled with the mockery all too familiar like the rest of his peers.

He was going to fucking show you.

“And hereby I declare the beginning of the 10th annual Hunger Games. May the odds be in your favor,” Dr. Gaul's voice calls out to the students.

Odds will be in his favor, whether it be willing by the Lord or his brute force.

Next Chapter

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bratzforchris · 2 months

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Ways to Say "I Love You", C. Sturniolo

Summary: Five times you knew Chris better than himself, and the one time you didn't<3

Pairing: Chris x feminine reader

Warnings: Mentions of drinking/hangover (y'all i know he's techinally not of legal drinking age in the USA. this is fiction)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: I genuinely need this man in my life so bad actually. Anyways, enjoy some tooth rotting fluff. XOXO<3

“Bruh,” Chris groaned, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. “I feel like shit and I don’t even know why.”

You looked up from your phone, eyeing your boyfriend up and down. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he whined, rolling off the couch dramatically. “My head hurts and I’m tired.”

You sat up from the gray couch, standing over Chris, who was sprawled on the floor, pouting and whining. You definitely felt bad for him, but at the same time, you knew Chris tended to over dramatize the smallest, most random things. “Do you have a fever?”

Chris shook his head, rolling from his back to his stomach, but not getting off the floor. “I don’t feel sick, but I just feel like horse shit and I don’t know why.”

You observed him for a moment, before an idea dawned on you. Having ADHD, Chris tended to forget to eat and drink, so hyperfixated on something or too many thoughts in his head blocking the reminders to fuel his body. He was medicated for it, which both helped and hurt. Sometimes, he would be able to focus enough to remember his meals, but other times, the meds would dissipate his hunger cues. “When was the last time you had something to eat or drink?”

“Hmmm,” Chris’s blue eyes looked thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged. “Dunno. Which is weird because I’ve usually had like, six Pepsis by now, but we’re out and Matt didn’t go to the grocery store yesterday, so…I don’t know.”

You shook your head with a soft chuckle, helping your boyfriend up off the floor. “I think that might be the problem, sweetheart. Is there something you want to eat?”

“Do we have chicken nuggets?” Chris asked you, picking up one of the stim toys he had left on the floor last night as he followed you into the kitchen. “That reminds me, isn’t it weird that chickens can’t fly? Like…are they even real birds?” he asked you.

“I dunno, hun. Google it.” You told him gently, pulling the bag of chicken nuggets out of the freezer.”

“Do you think chickens are sad that they can’t fly? Like do they look at cardinals and go ‘Damn, why can he fly but not me’?” he hummed, flicking at the toy.

Chris was wrapped up in his own little world as you made his lunch. He didn’t even get the chance to Google his chicken question before he was distracted by a Spotify notification, which led to him loudly singing a Lil Skies song, dancing around the kitchen. As much as you hated how difficult ADHD could be for him, Chris had one of the best personalities you had ever met; he was bubbly and outgoing, always the life of the party and always willing to cheer you up. You quickly plated his nuggets, along with some other random foods that you knew he would love, before sliding the plate across the island too.

“See if that makes you feel better.” You explained with a soft smile.

You watched as Chris downed the food, along with a Gatorade you had given him, only to see a smile dawn on his face.

“I feel better now,” Chris mumbled shyly after a while. “Thank you. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. You literally always know me better than myself, it’s kinda weird.”

“Why is it weird?” You asked with a snort.

“Cause it’s like you’re magical or something. Which it would be really cool if you were.”

You smiled, kissing Chris’s soft brown hair. “I love you too, hun.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Tour life was difficult. No one would deny that. As much as the triplets were absolutely loving the Versus tour and all the antics they were getting to do, as well as meeting fans, they had to admit that it was exhausting. Not only were they running on an extremely tight schedule, it was wearing on Chris the most, simply because he was getting next to no alone time with you. It wasn’t that he simply wanted the alone time for sexual reasons, rather, you were the only person that could calm his mind, letting him just be.

“Baby,” You hummed, softly stroking the brunette’s face. It was still dark out, just past six am, but you had a surprise for him, and you knew Chris would later complain about his sleeping in if he found the missed opportunity. “Wake up, honey.”

Chris wriggled beneath the blankets, sleepily blinking his blue eyes. He was freezing and it was dark out; way too early to be awake. “Too early.” he groaned in his morning voice, rolling over to face the wall with the blanket bunched around his shoulders.

“I have a surprise for you.” You said, a bit more excitement in your voice as you shook him harder.

The word ‘surprise’ immediately woke the boy up as he rolled to face you. You were already dressed in one of his hoodies and a pair of leggings, eager to get on with your plan. You were practically bouncing up and down like an excited little kid, hoping Chris would love what you had come up with as much as you did.

“Why the fuck are you awake? It’s dark out,” he moaned. “Come cuddle me instead.”

You snorted at your boyfriend’s dramatics, quietly pulling back his blanket so as not to disturb Matt and Nick. “Get dressed, you big goof. We’re leaving in ten.”

As much as he wanted to argue and go back to sleep, Chris couldn’t deny that he wanted to understand what had caused the giddiness in your aura. He quickly pulled on his favorite hoodie and sweatpants, cramming his messy hair under a snapback as he followed you down the bus steps and out onto the quiet, dark sidewalk. He didn't know where the bus had stopped during the night. Philly maybe? But he didn’t get time to think about that as you simply nodded to one of the members of the triplets security and then took his hand, dragging him down the sidewalk.

“Where are we going? I miss my blanket.” Chris pouted.

“Me too,” You nodded, trying your hardest not to disclose the surprise. “But I do have something that’ll make you feel better.”

Chris didn’t know where you were going at this point, but he followed you anyway. He would’ve followed in any life, had someone asked him the question. You two continued to walk for a few more blocks until you stopped in front of a brightly lit diner, its neon signs illuminating the darkness of the street.

“Pancakes?” Your boyfriend asked, perking up as the smell of bacon drifted from the restaurant. “Goddamn, I knew I made the right choice dating you.”

“I am pretty amazing,” You giggled, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “Let’s eat.”

You stepped into the diner together, immediately being sat at a booth and having your order taken. You and Chris both ordered an immense amount of breakfast food, quite tired of the protein shakes and cereal that came with bus life.

“How did you, um, find this place?” Chris asked bashfully, stirring his straw around his Pepsi.

You shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee. “I was just looking for things for us to do alone and it came up,” You hummed. “I love Matt and Nick, I really do, but I also like to have one-on-one time with you, and I could kind of tell you needed some, too.”

“How do you always manage to know exactly what I need when I need it?” he asked with a chuckle, brushing his hand over your knuckles.

You smiled, a blush dotting your cheeks as your waitress came over with a tray full of all the food you had ordered. “I just do.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Baby,” Chris whined, sprawling out across your shared queen sized bed. “Don’t leave me. I don’t need food, nor do I want it.”

“But you do.” You said pointedly, looking him up and down as you slipped on your Uggs.

“Nuh uh,” he fought back, smashing his face against a pillow. “You’re making me feel sick by not laying with me.”

“I’m not making you feel sick. Your choices are making you feel sick. No one told you to drink as much as you did.” You chastised gently, crossing the room to kiss his forehead.

You and Chris, as well as his brothers, had gone out last night with a large group of friends, to include Johnnie and Jake, Tara, Larray, and Sam and Colby. Things had gotten a little…out of hand, leaving you with a very hungover Chris, who was making miserable noises as he clutched his stomach.

“You’re not even laying with me,” Your boyfriend pouted. “My head and tummy hurt and I wanna be cuddled and you’re being mean.”

“You’re so grumpy when you’re hungover,” You snorted, kissing his forehead again. “I’ll be right back, babe.”

Chris whimpered again as you propped him up with several pillows, tucking him in and making sure he had water and a bucket nearby. You had opted to get him IHOP, figuring a good amount of carbs would ease the symptoms he was currently experiencing as a consequence of overindulging in alcohol. The time between you leaving the triplets house, picking up food, and returning home was less than forty five minutes total, but it felt like an eternity to your hungover boyfriend who simply wanted cuddles and for his headache and nausea to go away.

You entered the bedroom, takeout bag in hand. “I’m back. Nothing to cure a hangover like a big, greasy breakfast,” You smiled, settling onto the bed and pulling out plastic containers of food. “Once you eat, you can take some ibuprofen for your headache.”

“I’m not hungry.” Chris whispered softly, feeling too unsettled to eat.

“You know your tummy will feel better once you eat.” You cooed, stroking his stomach over the comforter.

“Nuh uh.” he groaned, snuggling further into his pillow and blanket.

“It will and you know it. You know you can’t drink that much, hun. I dunno what you expected to happen.” You explained softly, pushing some hair out of his face gently.

As much as he wanted to continue to whine and be difficult, Chris had to admit you were right. A good breakfast and some sleep sounded really, really good right about now. He softly sat up, taking a sip of the Gatorade you had left on his bedside table last night. “Mkay…I’ll try to eat, I guess.”

You didn’t say much as you two began to eat your breakfast. You knew Chris probably had a raging hangover headache right about now, and you didn’t want to make it any worse. Once your boyfriend had had enough to eat and taken the pain relievers, he curled up into your side, placing your hand on his stomach.

“...you were right,” he admitted quietly, always hating to be wrong. “Now I need belly rubs and sleep.”

“So demanding,” You fake huffed, kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, hun. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Chris Sturniolo was not the type to let anyone know he was upset. Sure, he would jokingly whine and complain about things when he felt like being irritating to his brothers, but he would never actually let anyone see when his feelings were hurt. You knew this about him, and after a little over a year together, you knew the signs that he was feeling this way as well.

The four of you were currently sitting in Matt’s car in a random parking lot, filming a car video. You opted to sit in the back and mostly listen with an amused look. After all, this was the triplets video, not yours. They hadn’t really planned a topic for today either, which ever bubbly Chris took to his advantage.

“I need to pee,” he stated to no one in particular. “I got a new water bottle and so now I’ve been motivated to stay hydrated so I need to pee.”

“Why did you say water bottle like that?” Matt snorted.

The boys continued back and forth with their bickering for a while, mostly making fun of the way Chris had said the word. You simply sat and laughed, enjoying all the weird conversations that came up, that is until Nick harshly interrupted Chris.

“Do you ever shut up?” he asked. “Like genuinely, do you ever shut your mouth?”

“I do sometimes.” Chris protested.

“Nuh uh,” Matt interjected. “You couldn’t go five minutes without talking. I bet on it. You’re one of those people on the list Nick was talking about. The one who could benefit from being quiet.”

“Fine. Time starts now.” Chris ‘locked’ his lips and pretended to throw away the key.

You knew he was just going along with the video, but you could tell by the slump of your boyfriend’s shoulders and the way he had his forehead resting against the cool window that the comments had hurt him more than he let on. Nick and Matt continued to talk for a few minutes, before landing on a topic that immediately sparked Chris’s mind. He quickly decided to speak up, forgetting about their ‘challenge’.

“You can’t do it,” Matt laughed, a triumphant look on his face. “Chris can’t stop yapping…wait, that should be the title of this video.”

Nick laughed and fist bumped his middle triplet, but you found the joke far from funny. Chris had slowly curled into himself throughout the duration of the video, speaking less and less. He was still appearing to be smiling and having a good time, but his overall demeanor had shifted, and you could tell his brothers’ teasing was getting to him.

“We should get home. It’s getting late…” You mumbled softly once the car had quieted down.

Chris turned around in his seat, giving you a thankful smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Matt nodded at your statement, turning the key in the ignition and beginning the short drive back to your shared LA home. Everyone was quiet, which was a rare occurrence in this car. You would’ve thought that Matt and Nick would’ve noticed Chris’s unusual silence, but somehow they didn’t. Your boyfriend lingered to get out as his brothers clomped inside the house, laughing about a random joke.

“You okay, hun?” You asked, climbing from the backseat to the driver’s seat, resting your hand on his arm.

“‘M fine.” Chris mumbled, leaning his head against the window.

“You don’t act very fine.” You whispered gently, running your fingers through the soft, brown curls at the nape of his neck.

“Do you think I talk too much?” Chris whispered quietly, turning towards you.

Under the bright light of the garage, you could see unshed tears welling in his lash line, threatening to spill. That’s how you knew Chris was upset. He almost never cried, unless he was really and truly upset.

“Honey,” You said sadly, running your thumb across his cheek. “Of course not, bubba. I love listening to you talk.”

“Well Matt and Nick sure don’t.” he huffed grumpily, but a sniffle made its way out.

“Yeah…I was going to talk to them about that, actually. They were kinda being dickheads to you tonight.” You whispered, always hating conflict between the triplets.

“They were right,” Chris groaned, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t shut my fucking mouth and everyone thinks it’s annoying!”

“Sweetheart,” You cooed, pulling him into a hug across the console. “I don’t, and I say that with every promise in me. I love listening to you talk, Chris. Your voice is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard and I learn so much from you every day.”

“Really?” he sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Really, hun,” You smiled, softly brushing it away. “I love you.”

Chris smiled, giving you a soft peck on the lips. “You always just know, don’t you? You always know when I’m sick or tired or when something’s wrong. God, I love you.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

You had always loved music, ever since you were little. Something about how a simple arrangement of notes could make a person feel so many emotions captivated you. It was like a language that you didn't have to learn to understand. By the time you were eleven, you’d been playing guitar and ukulele, and that later expanded to piano and bass. Music was absolutely your therapy, and you took every opportunity you had to practice your craft.

You were sitting on the floor of your and Chris’s shared bedroom, strumming softly on your acoustic guitar. For once, the house was quiet because the boys were out filming a video, so you took the time to practice one of the new songs you had been working on lately. Being a music major allowed you very little time for your separate projects, so you would take whatever chance you could get.

The silence didn’t last long, though. Just as you were playing an Em chord, Chris burst into the room, flopping on the bed. “Hey mamas, how was your day?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but continued to strum your guitar. “It was wonderful…until I was so rudely interrupted.”

“You know you love me,” Chris teased, rolling onto his stomach and propping his chin in his hands. “Play me a song.”

“God, you are so demanding,” You chuckled. “What’s next? An autograph?”

“Mhm. On my boobs.” Your boyfriend smiled.

You shook your head with a laugh, throwing a guitar pick at him. “You’re insane.”

You didn’t waste any more in Chris’s antics, though. You fulfilled your boyfriend’s request, quietly beginning to play Falling like the Stars and singing along. Chris said nothing more, cherishing the sound of your voice. He loved hearing you sing and play guitar. It soothed him, allowing him to see the passionate parts of you that only came out in your music. He wished that he could do the things that you did, but he had just never taken the time to learn an instrument.

You looked up at your boyfriend on the bed after you finished the song, smiling softly. You watched Chris for a moment, observing his body language and the way he was looking at you. “Do you…want to learn?” You asked him quietly, a blush dotting your cheeks.

“You’d teach me?” Chris’s cheeks and ears grew pink as he looked at you shyly.

“I’d love to.” You nodded with a smile.

Your boyfriend clambered off the bed, sitting down next to you on the rug. You softly began to explain the different parts of an acoustic guitar and how to hold it, before moving onto chords and strumming. Chris had always been a fast learner when he put effort in, and right now was no different. Within the hour, he was already playing slow, soft songs. The chords were still vibrating and it took him quite a while to change them, but it was a song nonetheless.

“I’m not as good at it as you are.” he pouted after a moment, setting your guitar aside gently.

“Well I have been playing for ten years, bub.” You chuckled gently, kissing his face.

Chris wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him and kissing you back deeply. He loved you with all his heart, and you taking the time out of your day to share your passions with him only made him love you more. As the kiss grew heavier, Chris fell back onto the floor, still holding you as he giggled.

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to play guitar, you know that?” he asked, pecking your forehead.

“I could tell.” You smiled.

“You always can.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“It’s such a nice day out today.” You hummed, soaking in the sun as you laid on your towel.

Chris fidgeted beside you anxiously, but made an acknowledgement towards you statement so as to ‘throw you off his scent’. He had been planning this surprise for months now and he was currently using every muscle in his body to keep his mouth shut so as not to spoil it.

You two were basking in the sun on the beach in Santa Barbara, towels laid out. You had noticed Chris had been unusually quiet all day, but didn’t really think much of it. The beach usually kept him in his own little world, too distracted by the roar of the ocean and the sand between his feet to notice anyone else. You both had always loved the beach, and moving to the LA area after living in Boston your whole life had been a welcomed change. You practically went to the beach every weekend, but today Chris had led you to a new spot he had found. It was rather secluded, but you loved it all the same. It made things more intimate between the two of you.

“You’re quiet today,” You said after a while, rolling over and propping yourself up on your shoulder. You looked Chris over from head-to-toe, admiring the tiny features about him like the way his curls had grown more pronounced with the salt air and the birthmark on his back. “Beach getting you relaxed?”

“I, uh, yeah. You could say that,” Your boyfriend tried to smile sheepishly, looking you over. Your lavender bikini hugged you just right, making him even more nervous. If he fucked this up while you looked so gorgeous, he would never forgive himself. “Wanna take a walk?”

You smiled, sitting up quickly and beginning to gather your towel. “Sure!”

“No!” Chris said a bit too hastily. “I mean, you don’t need to bring your towel…I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“You can’t just leave your stuff on the beach, Chris.” You giggled.

“It’s not like anyone’s gonna steal it. Just–trust me, please?” he asked, giving you those blue puppy eyes you could never resist.

“I guess so,” you fake huffed, taking his hand in your own. “C’mon, let’s walk before the sun sets on us, silly.”

Chris smiled, taking your hand in his own and starting the trek down the beach. The ocean was calling him as you two strolled westward towards the sunset, but that would have to wait. At least until he had finished his plan. The silence between you was comfortable like always, but this time it thrummed with passionate energy. Chris was pretty sure you had no idea what he was planning, but then again, you knew him like the back of your hand.

“This beach is so quiet. It’s nice when it’s just us,” You smiled. “How did you find this place?”

“Oh, y’know, doing what I do best. Poking around.” Your boyfriend laughed nervously as you came to a beautiful expanse of rock along the beach.

You immediately ran towards the beauty, smiling up at the wonder of nature. “This is gorgeous.”

Chris took the opportunity of you having your back turned to feel in the pocket of his swim trunks for the tiny box that he had been hiding from you for over a month now. He would admit that he had definitely had a bit of a struggle keeping the secret from you, but it was worth it to see you now, on this gorgeous beach, looking even more beautiful than the view around you. The brunette turned his head to where Nick was hiding out of sight, holding his camera. As much as he wanted the two of you to be alone for this, he wanted the pictures infinitely more. He couldn’t wait to tell his kids about what would be the best day of his life one day, that is, if you said yes.

He took a deep breath, pulling the box out of his pocket and then tapping you on the shoulder. “I have a question for you, ma.”

By the time you had turned around, Chris was on one knew, holding a tiny, velvet box that held a gorgeous, heart-shaped, diamond ring. “Oh my god…” You whispered, hand flying to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes.

“You are my best friend, baby. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you that day in ninth grade algebra class. Finding out you felt the same way about me was probably the best day of my life. You always listen to every crazy, stupid, and dumb idea I have and I love you for it. You know me better than I know myself. I love loving you; you are my first, last, and only love. Will you marry me, Y/N?”

“Oh my god, yes!” You squealed, throwing yourself into his arms as Chris slid the ring onto your finger.

Chris sniffled as he spun you around, hugging you tightly and kissing you. “This is why I’ve been acting weird today,” he chuckled and blushed. “I was worried you’d find out. You know literally everything.”

“Not everything,” You smiled, showing him the diamond. “You kept the secret so well. Who all knows?”

“Well,” Chris admitted shyly as Nick stepped out from his hiding spot. “Nick knows, obviously, because I needed his help capturing the moment. Matt knows too. Other than that, no one else.”

“You’re amazing, Chris,” You whispered, kissing him again. “I’ve wanted to marry you since I was fifteen years old, you know that?”

“I love you so much, ma. Always have and always will.”

As Nick continued to snap photos of the two of you in front of the sunset on the beach, you couldn’t help but to feel your heart swell. You hadn’t known what was going on with Chris this time, but for once, you didn’t even mind.

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @idek3000hi @runasvengence

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unclewaynemunson · 6 months

Text

Pt1 | Pt2 | this one is the last part!

After Steve has dropped Nancy off at her house – and Nancy has talked some courage into him – he drives to the uglier part of town, over Cornwallis and then into Forest Hills. He can only hope Eddie is home. If not, he'll try Jeff's house, and then Freak's or Gareth's. He had to promise Nancy he'll keep searching even if it has him ending up at Reefer Rick's boathouse again.

Luckily, no such search actions seem necessary when he gets to the trailer park: as soon as Steve opens his car door, he can hear loud music emerging from inside the Munsons' trailer. Even though it isn't exactly Eddie's usual taste, something tells Steve that Wayne definitely isn't the one who put this one on.

Should have known better than to cheat a friend And waste a chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you

He knocks on the door, but is not surprised when no one inside seems to hear him, so he pushes it open to let himself in instead.

He finds Eddie sprawled out on the floor in front of the old boombox. His eyes are closed, but even from Steve's place in the doorway he can see how swollen and red the skin underneath them is. His hair is spread out around his head on the floor like a dark halo, and his fingers are restlessly tapping on his own arm to the melody of the saxophone solo.

Steve finds himself frozen in the doorway, captivated by simply watching Eddie lying there in his own bubble while the music slowly fades out. Despite the sadness radiating off him, there's something weirdly beautiful about it, and Steve can't look away, can't move, can't make a sound.

Then, Eddie suddenly sits up; his index finger is already stretched out towards the rewind button when Steve clears his throat to make his presence known. Eddie whips his head towards him with a startled sound.

'Jesus Christ, what the hell?!' he yells out. 'How long have you been standing there? No, you know what, don't answer that, just get the hell out!'

'Eddie, I-'

'I don't wanna hear any of it, man! I thought – no, I'm not talking to you. Fuck you.' Steve knows it's supposed to sound angry, but Eddie's voice starts wobbling dangerously towards the end of his sentence.

'Eddie, please just hear me out,' Steve says, stepping further into the trailer. The end of Careless whisper has left a deafening silence in its wake. He half expects Eddie to cover his ears and start singing loudly, but he's only met with a teary-eyed death stare and crossed arms.

'I'm not seeing any girl, Dustin got it all wrong,' he starts to explain. 'I wanted to tell him who I was really seeing, but I couldn't - not without your permission - so I told him I was seeing someone. Meaning you. I haven't been seeing anyone ever since that first time we kissed. I didn't need to. I've only been thinking about you.' He pauses. It's scary, to let himself be vulnerable like this while Eddie is still looking at him like he despises him. But he takes a deep breath and pushes himself to say it all.

'I don't want to see anyone, boy or girl, ever again, as long as I can have you, Eddie. I promise. I've been falling for months, but I didn't wanna scare you off with any labels you might not want for us – but you're it for me, Eddie, one hundred percent. I never meant to hurt you like this. It's all a big misunderstanding; there's no one else for me.'

Eddie is still sitting on the floor, looking up at Steve with wide, teary eyes. Something in his face has slowly shifted while Steve was talking; the harsh lines around his mouth have turned softer and the betrayal in his eyes has made way for something Steve can only hope to be good.

'You wanted to tell Dustin about us?' is all Eddie says, his voice croaky.

Steve takes another step towards Eddie, then crouches down to the ground until he's sitting right next to him on the worn carpet.

'I mean, I know I don't wanna hide what I'm feeling for you. Especially not when people are thinking I'm going out with some girl when all I want is to be with you.' He reaches out to grab Eddie's hands in his own. 'So yeah, I think I wanna tell Dustin. And everyone else, basically. That is, if we're on the same page about what we are.'

Eddie frees one of his hands from Steve's grip to wipe it over his eyes. His palm is wet when his hand finds Steve's again.

'What about boyfriends?' he says, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face.

Steve squeezes his hands, unable to stop a matching smile of his own appearing. To hear that word falling from Eddie's mouth... He had expected it to feel good, of course, but he had never anticipated it to feel like this: like the whole world suddenly makes sense again.

'Yeah, I can do boyfriends,' he answers, his voice breathy with the multitude of emotions bubbling up inside of him. 'That sounds – sounds good. Great. Perfect.'

Eddie surges forward to catch him in a kiss that's a bit wetter than Steve is used to. Steve happily kisses him back, though, and he can barely suppress a shiver when one of Eddie's hands makes its way upwards over Steve's back and into the hair in his neck. There's a softness to his touch that easily drives Steve crazy with relief.

When they pull back, both of them are smiling dumbly and breathing heavily.

'I'm sorry I had so little trust in you,' Eddie tells him.

'That's okay, I understand,' Steve is quick to answer. 'As long as you leave listening to George Michael to me again from now on.'

Eddie makes a face, causing a big frown to appear between his eyebrows, along with all kinds of wrinkles around his nose.

'God, I can't believe you witnessed that and still wanted to be my boyfriend,' he says, adding an exaggerated shudder for extra dramatics.

Steve clenches his arms tighter around Eddie. 'You won't scare me off that easily,' he murmurs. 'It was kind of adorable.'

'It was pathetic.'

'Yeah, a little bit. But in an adorable way.'

Eddie rolls his eyes. 'You're an idiot, Steve Harrington,' he says. 'But... In an adorable way.'

Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx @candlecatsblog @goodolefashionedloverboi @jojobeaner @pinkdaisies1998 @giverobinagfbrigade @therealscarletpumpernickel @darkwithcoferie @duraffinity @lyriclight @almondflavoredbookworm @kingelyx @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @m-owo-n @altermagic @sirsnacksalot @littlebookworm86 @platinum-sunset @chaosgremlinmunson @morganski-19 @cam-cat-writer @slime-hoe @bat-outta-hel @justsearchingformystory @notfromtwitter @ashwinmeird @marklee-blackmore @warlordess @breealtair @pansexualhousecat @louwilsonscreamingpapa @inikokoru (more tags in the replies bc tumblr is being a dick again)

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #idiot4idiot #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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