#Is Chicago a romantic city? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

songforeddiemunson · 9 months

Note

Can you please do a Eddie X virgin reader where there has always been romance and they never acted on it until they confess when there watching a film and then a couple weeks after they make out then have soft sex

Thank you so much for the request!! I made some minor adjustments because that's just the route the narrative took me, but I hope you like it! I'm SO sorry this took so long, it's been a nutty few weeks.

NEXT SUMMER

Eddie Munson x Fem!Virgin!Reader (description vague apart from AFAB for inclusivity)

Summary: Eddie meets a cousin of the Wheelers who is visiting for the summer, and falls head over heels. The problem is, she lives in Chicago, and needs to return in the fall. Can they handle it?

Warnings/Tropes: longing with a bit of angst, fluffy affection, romantic soft smut, mild language, aftercare, mostly this is just really sweet.

Word Count: 5517

August 1990

You first caught Eddie’s eye on a late summer evening, standing under the twinkling lights of carnival rides at the county fair. It was the sort of cotton candy sky just moments before the sun dipped below the horizon, signaling the end of another august day. The droning cicadas were rapidly giving way to the cricket’s song, but all of those innocuous details faded away as Eddie watched you as you waited in line for the Scrambler, talking and laughing with your companion.

Eddie’s heart nearly leapt in his throat when he saw that the person you were speaking with was someone he actually knew. Nancy Wheeler! his brain screamed, and before he realized what he was doing, his feet were carrying him forward as if he was on autopilot, such was your magnetism.

Nancy caught sight of Eddie as he approached, and her face broke out into a broad grin. “Eddie!” she exclaimed with delight. “It’s so great to see you!” She hugged him as you stood by, a polite smile gracing your lips.

“Likewise, Wheeler,” Eddie replied fondly, and when his eyes slipped to you, your heart nearly ceased its rhythm. The breath was stolen from your lungs, and all you could do was stare wordlessly at the handsome man who evidently was a friend to Nancy.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was experiencing the same physical paralysis under your gaze.

“Eddie! You have to meet my little cousin! She goes by Ivy, but her name is–”

“Oh my god,” you moaned, cutting Nancy off. Blood rushed to your cheeks in mortification. “I am not little, I’m twenty years old now!’

Nancy giggled fondly. “Well sure, but you’ll always be little to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m only two years younger than you, but whatever.”

Eddie laughed, and your cheeks pinkened even more. “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie,” you said. You struggled to meet his eyes; it was like staring at the sun.

“It’s good to meet you too Ivy, if– if you don’t mind me calling you that.”

You smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Please do.”

And so you spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and Nancy, keeping things oh so casual but feeling like you might die every time he looked at you. You remained aloof because, after all, you didn’t even live in Hawkins, and eventually you’d have to return home to the city.

When Eddie first learned that you would be returning to Chicago at the end of the summer, he was crestfallen but struggled to mask it.

“I’m sure Chicago is really cool,” he said with forced bravado. “Way cooler than boring old Hawkins.”

“Oh but I love coming here,” you breathed enthusiastically. “Chicago is cool and all, but this is so nice. I love smelling the mown grass, and being able to go to the drive-in movie theater, and all that great summertime stuff.” You gestured around you. “And the county fair! I love coming to the fair.”

Eddie smiled despite his growing sadness. “You make it sound pretty nice. But really it’s just cornfields…”

“...I love corn,” you countered.

“And strip malls…”

“.....strip malls always have video stores, and I love movies.” you said with a grin.

Nancy returned from buying a candy apple.

You pointed at her. “Candy apples! I can’t buy candy apples in Chicago.”

“Hmm?” she replied, confused, chewing. “I’m sure you can buy candle apples in Chicag–”

“Not from the fair though,” you interrupted. “They’re better from the fair.”

“Point taken,” Eddie said with a chuckle, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“I do still want to jump in a creek though,” you said wistfully.

“Gross, no. There are leeches,” Nancy said.

“Not in creeks,” Eddie laughed. “Ponds, maybe. But creeks are fine.”

And so the evening wound down. You and Eddie went back and forth over the virtues of city vs country living, but Eddie had to admit, you did have a way of making Hawkins sound pretty great. When it was time to part ways, Eddie desperately wanted to kiss you, so much that his lips nearly burned from the need, but he refrained. What would a girl like you ever see in a guy like him?

Two days later, on a late Sunday morning, where the summer sun shone relentlessly through a bluebird sky, Eddie picked up the phone and dialed the Wheeler’s number with a shaking hand.

Mike answered, sounding like he just woke up.

“Mehllo?” he mumbled by way of answer.

“Mike! It’s Eddie.”

“Munson?!” that seemed to wake him up. “Dude! It’s been forever!”

“Yeah man! How are you doing?”

“Oh things are good, I’m going off to college next month, and–”

“Is your cousin around? Ivy?” Eddie blurted anxiously, covering his face in embarrassment over the way he must have sounded. “Sorry man, it’s just that I need to ask her something. I would love to catch up with you though! Before you head to school; we should get together.”

“Yeah definitely,” Mike responded, unbothered. "We’ll catch up. I’ll go get Ivy….”

Eddie heard the handset thump against whatever surface Mike set it upon, and heard him call your name. He faintly heard your voice respond, which made Eddie’s already hammering heart pick up its pace. More fumbling noises ended with a slightly breathless, “Hello? Eddie?”

“Hi Ivy,” he replied, and you thought maybe you could hear a smile in his voice. “Wanna go jump in a creek?”

Your summertime in Hawkins was coming to a close; in only a few days’ time you were due to return to Chicago and university. As the final days ticked away, a ball of sadness gradually grew in the pit of your stomach. It was the best summer ever, and you were sorry to see its end.

Since the night you met him at the fair, Eddie had taken you cliff jumping into the Bear Creek, something that simultaneously terrified and thrilled you, leaving you more exhilarated than you have felt in a long while. But when you weren’t jumping, you simply floated in the water, watching the dappled sun dance across its surface, loving life.

Eddie also took you to the drive-in theater. It wasn’t a date, since he didn’t technically ask you out like that, and Nancy and Mike also insisted on tagging along. You lined camping chairs up in front of the van and rolled down the windows with the sound up loud so you could all sit together. It was a lovely, balmy night of watching Total Recall, and you ate too many skittles while swatting mosquitoes. It was perfect.

And now summer was ending and it was time to go, and you couldn’t possibly want to return to Chicago less. Why did you have to meet Eddie now?

You sighed as you packed up your things, folding clothes and setting them in your suitcase slowly, unmotivated. Nancy perched on the side of your bed, watching.

“You seem really bummed out,” Nancy remarked.

“I guess I’m not looking forward to going home. I wish I could stay a bit longer.” you replied, not bothering to hide your low mood.

“Would this have anything to do with a certain long-haired boy that lives on the other side of town?” Nancy prodded. It’s not like you were hiding anything.

“That obvious? And he’s twenty-four, he’s not a boy.”

Nancy nodded, with a giggle. “Fair enough.”

“And…maybe. I don’t know. It’s not like he’s kissed me or asked me out properly....” You stalled your packing, and you folded and unfolded the same sweater over and over while you let your thoughts wander.

“But you want him to?” Nancy prodded gently after a moment.

You sighed. “Yeah, I do. It’s kind of all I can think about actually,” you added with a wistful chuckle. “But what’s the point when I live all the way in Chicago the other nine months of the year?” You flopped down dramatically on the bed with a huff.

“Maybe you can talk on the phone and stuff throughout the year, and pick up where you left off next summer?”

“Long distance?” You allowed a glimmer of hope to creep in. “Do you think that could work?”

Nancy shrugged. “I did it with Jonathan when he moved to California. It’s not easy, but it can work.”

You hitched a deep sigh. “What if he doesn’t want to?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Nancy replied.

The sky was overcast as you loaded the last of your bags into the back of the Wheeler’s car, matching your mood. You hugged Mike and Karen goodbye; Ted and Nancy were going to ride with you to the train station. You scanned the empty suburban streets for Eddie, but he was nowhere to be seen, causing your heart to sink even lower.

Just as you were about to climb into the backseat, you heard a sound that pulled your attention toward the woods at the edge of the neighborhood. There was some rustling and you saw that the flora was jostling about. What the–

Eddie suddenly materialized from the trees, calling, “Wait!” as he trotted over toward you. Your heart reversed its previous downward trajectory with haste, and happiness soared through you so abruptly and completely that you thought you might fall over.

“I cut through the woods,” Eddie stated breathlessly. “I was afraid I wouldn’t make it.”

“Just in time,” you grinned.

Ted poked his head out of the car’s driver window. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get going.”

“Oh– Okay, I won’t take long,” Eddie stammered slightly. “I just wanted to say good bye and ask you…is it okay if I call you?”

You struggled to contain your delight at the suggestion. “Yes Eddie, I would really love that.” You pulled a small notepad from your purse, jotted your number down, and tore the scrap of paper out before handing it over. “Don’t lose this.”

Eddie had the fleeting thought that he would have your digits tattooed on his flesh to ensure their permanence. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Ted honked the horn, even though you were all standing right there.

“Okay, well I have to go. Call me tomorrow?”

Eddie nodded, his throat suddenly gone dry. “I will.”

As you sat down and closed the car door behind you, Ted wasted no time pulling away. You twisted around in the seat to watch Eddie grow smaller as the distance increased. He raised a hand and waved shortly before you went around a bend, causing you to lose sight of him.

The temporary high of seeing Eddie was quickly supplanted by sadness. It was going to be a very long wait for next summer.

June 1991

Once you were clear of the train platform, your rolling suitcase and duffle bag appropriately situated, you bolted through the crowd as quickly as possible.

Nine long months you waited. Nine months of speaking on the phone for hours nearly every night, talking about everything, watching movies together, helping Eddie write his next D&D campaign, discussing books. You shared hopes, dreams, wishes, and desires. Nine months of longing. Nine months of imagining his lips on yours, his fingers gripping the meat of your thighs, picturing him doing things to you that you’d never done with anyone before. You were tired of waiting.

You never officially declared yourselves to each other, still hadn’t even kissed, so you couldn’t be completely sure that he felt the same way. But you had a pretty good idea; after all, would a guy spend that much time on the phone with you if he didn’t feel some kind of way? He said he was going to pick you up at the train station after all, so that had to count for something.

You were determined. Eddie would not slip through your fingers; this summer was going to change everything.

And there he was. As you entered the terminal with the other passengers, you spotted him immediately. He was leaning up against the wall, torn tight jeans and black band tee, long chestnut curls cascading around his shoulders. He was beautiful.

The way his face lit up when he spotted you could probably heal the world, if you could find a way to harness it.

You let your bags drop to the ground as you ran to him, and he opened his arms to you as you collided with him, slamming him back against the wall. His arms slid up around your back and gripped you tightly, his breath fanned across one ear, setting all your senses alight, and you simply resided in his embrace and felt the object of your affection absolutely envelop you. Oh how you had waited for this.

You pulled away just enough to look at his face. He was undeniably very happy, eyes bright, smiling broadly, his dimple making itself known.

“Hey you,” he said.

“Hi you,” you replied.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

“I've been counting the minutes,” you said. You thought maybe you were going to cry.

“Try seconds,” he whispered, opening his eyes wide as if he was revealing a scandalous secret.

The rest of the bustling train station faded away. The voices and echoes were reduced to a muffled din, and all the people who hastened past you became less corporeal. As your eyes roamed his face, it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

He blinked and pulled away, and as soon as it started, the spell was broken.

He hastened over to your bags and grabbed hold of them, slinging your duffel over his shoulder and taking your rollbag in one hand. “Let’s go,” he said with a look over his shoulder, his hair bouncing as he hurried through the terminal with you in tow. He slowed as he approached the doors to outside. “Uh, I’ll take you to the Wheeler’s to settle in, but I wondered…” He paused, his expression belying his own lack of confidence. He looked almost shy. “I got an apartment about a month back, finally…a space of my own,” he continued. “I wondered if maybe you wanted to watch a movie later?”

“Eddie!” you breathed, excited. “That’s so great! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said with a small shrug. “No pressure, if you don’t want to. I just wanted to put it out there, no strings attached.”

“I would love to,” you beamed.

“Do you want to know what movie I picked out?” Eddie asked.

“I really don’t care,” you replied, and you laughed together as you walked to the parking lot.

You waited anxiously for Eddie’s arrival later that evening.

“It’s a daaaate!” Mike sang as if he was still fourteen and not a freshman in college. Nancy slapped him on the arm.

“Don’t tease,” she admonished, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

“It is not a date!” you countered as you checked your reflection for the thousandth time. “Doesn’t someone have to say it’s a date for it to actually be a date?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Some things are just sort of….assumed.”

You and Nancy glared at him in tandem. “Uh, no thank you. Nobody should make assumptions about anything like that,” Nancy scolded.

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah I mean, what if he just thinks I’m a great friend, and I go and spoil everything going in there thinking this is a date?”

Mike gestured toward you as you touched up your lip gloss. “Says the chick who has been fussing over her appearance obsessively for the last 45 minutes.”

“I’m just being prepared,” you said.

“For what?” Nancy said with a chuckle.

“Just in case it is a date. I never said I didn’t want it to be.”

Nancy laughed as Mike groaned in exasperation. Fortunately, you were saved from further discussion by the doorbell. You ran from the room before anyone could stop you, grabbing your shoulder bag on the way.

You opened the door and revealed a slightly nervous looking Eddie, and he nearly stole your breath away.

Eddie was resplendent in a blue and black plaid button-up shirt with his black jeans and black converse sneakers. He had clearly made an effort to tame his hair, and his waves were soft and tidy. His breath caught when he saw you.

“H– hi,” he said with a grin.

“Hi yourself,” you said. You chanced a look over your shoulder, fearful of an audience. “Okay let’s go before Mike and Nancy get weird and interrogate us,” you said, grabbing Eddie by the hand and making him laugh while shutting the door behind you. Eddie held his van door open for you before walking around the other side and starting up the engine. Was that aftershave he was wearing?

Butterflies exploded in your chest. Oh my god, this is a date, you thought to yourself elatedly.

Eddie’s place was nice, simple, and clean. He didn’t have much in the way of furniture or decor yet, but he had the basics, and it was all his.

You were halfway through Goodfellas– which was really good– and sipping on bud light bottles on opposite ends of the couch. You were sitting with your legs curled underneath you, your left foot sticking out along the couch cushion. Eddie reached over and gently laid a hand on your ankle, pulling your attention away from the film.

“I’m gonna grab another beer. You want anything?”

“Sure, you want me to pause it?”

“Nah, I’ve seen this twice already,” he said as he headed to the kitchen.

“Eddie!” you said, smiling. “Why didn’t you rent something you’ve never seen?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he called. “I love this movie.”

You picked up the remote and paused the film anyway.

“But it just came out on VHS!” you said, laughing. "How have you seen it multiple times already?"

He returned with two freshly opened beers and handed one to you. He sat down again, a little closer this time.

“What– you don’t watch movies over and over again every chance you get? Is that…like….not normal or something?” He smirked at his own sarcasm.

“Not that quickly I’m afraid,” you said, and he laughed out loud.

“I guess I’m a bit of a fixator,” he said. “I fixate on things.”

“I suppose we all have things we fixate on,” you said.

“What do you fixate on?” He asked. He was leaning slightly in your direction. It made your heart speed up a little bit.

“Well lately,” you said, drawing out your syllables and pretending to think really hard about it. “Lately it’s been this guy.”

“Oooh,” Eddie said. “Tell me more.”

“Well, he looks a little rough around the edges, but it turns out that he’s the sweetest.”

“He is?” Eddie played along.

“Oh yes. And he has the biggest, most soulful brown eyes I’ve ever seen. It’s like he’s always seeing the world in new and interesting ways. And don’t get me started on his lips…”

“What about his lips?” Eddie asked.

“They’re so full and plump, like fruit, and I want to nibble on them.”

Eddie huffed a small laugh. “You want to nibble on his lips?”

“Among other things,” you said, a little breathily.

As your eyes flicked down to his lips, he licked them unconsciously, and you knew everything was about to change.

Eddie leaned forward, closing the distance between you, and he raised his right hand to cup the back of your head, pulling you forward. You felt his breath fan across your cheek as he rubbed his nose against yours.

“What other things did you have in mind?” he murmured.

“I want him,” you said simply. “But I don’t know how he feels.”

“Hmm,” Eddie cooed. “I think it’s safe to say he wants you too.”

“He does?”

“Oh yes,” he breathed, and then he kissed you.

Your breathing hitched– it was finally happening.

You enjoyed the simple feeling of his beautiful lips against yours for a moment before you parted your lips to deepen the kiss. You slotted his bottom lip between your teeth and applied gentle pressure. Eddie’s quiet gasp did things to you.

You chuckled, and rose up on your knees before pressing your body firmly against his, the movie now forgotten.

Eddie broke away, beaming. “I thought you probably felt the same way, but I wasn’t sure, and I was afraid to make a move and fuck it all up–”

“Shut up and keep kissing me,” you said.

He did as he was told. He also dialed up the passion, and you kissed each other hungrily, pouring nine months of longing into your efforts. Your tongues danced together, your hands roamed the expanse of his back, and you slid one hand up and under his shirt to feel his flesh.

Eddie gasped at your touch, and pulled away. His pupils were blown wide from the excitement, and you imagined that yours might look the same. He cupped the side of your face in his hands, boring his eyes into yours.

“Are we together? Are you mine?” he asked, and your heart broke and soared with equal measure at the sheer sweet earnestness of him.

“Yes, Eddie,” was all you could muster before he was kissing you again. He tipped you back and gently laid you down across the sofa, allowing his hand to travel up the length of your torso, keeping things chaste, but only barely.

You laid together and kissed deeply for a time, until you decided you’d had enough.

“Eddie,” you said. “T– take me to bed.”

“Are you sure? That’s really what you want?”

You nodded, but you couldn’t hide your nerves, and he gently pinched your chin to tilt your head up. “You seem anxious,” he said softly.

“Well, I – I haven’t actually done it before.”

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly.

“I’ve done some stuff, a little hand stuff mostly, but never, uh– it. Sex. I’ve never had sex.”

Eddie smiled affectionately at your display of nerves. “Relax, babe. It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to do.”

“But I am ready,” you said, more assuredly. “I really want to do this with you. I want you to be my first.”

Eddie searched your face for any further signs of nervousness or unease, but all he saw in your eyes now was conviction and honestly. You reached up a hand and laid it on his cheek.

“Nine months I’ve waited for this. I knew a long time ago that you were the one, Eddie. I’ve waited long enough.’

Eddie nodded. “Okay,” he said softly.

He moved to stand and gently scooped you up in his arms, making you giggle, and he carried you over to the bedroom. He kicked the door open with his foot, making you laugh some more, and laid you on his bed, which was clean if unmade. He leaned down and braced himself on either side of your body to kiss you.

“If you want me to stop, just tell me,” he said between kisses, and then stood back up to pull his shirt over his head. He did it in one fluid motion, letting his soft curls dance across his shoulders and back, and he was a sight to behold. You’d seen him with no shirt on last summer when he took you swimming, but somehow this was different.

“May I?” he asked, and paused with his fingers above the fly of your denim shorts. You nodded, and let Eddie loosen the buttons before pulling your shorts down along your legs and tossing them aside.

You smiled up at him as he loosened his own jeans and pushed them down before stepping out of them, leaving him clad in nothing but his boxers. He returned to the bed and laid next to you, gently trailing one palm up your body and pushing up your shirt, resting it at the bottom of your ribcage just below the underwire of your bra. Eddie resumed kissing you; it was something you were quite sure you would never tire of. He was amazing.

After a beat he pulled away to look down at you. “I need to get you ready,” he said softly. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

“Okay Eddie,” you replied. He pulled your shirt over your head gently, and then moved one hand to your back to unclasp your bra.

“You seem to have some experience with this,” you said, feeling a stab of self-consciousness.

Eddie paused. “A little. I’m not a virgin, but I’m hardly a Casanova or anything…”

“It’s okay, I don’t need to know.” you looked away.

Eddie was not pleased with the loss of eye-contact, and he could sense your discomfort.

“Hey,” he said softly, turning your face to his. “It’s only been a couple different girls. I really haven’t had much action for a guy my age, trust me. And nothing serious, ever.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re special. I want this– I want it to be special.”

You relaxed and smiled. “Honestly, I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Completely.”

“Okay then.”

He pulled your loosened bra off, leaving you in only your knickers. “If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

Your answering smile was cut short as he bent and placed a kiss on your nipple. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, before he sucked the little bud between his lips, setting all your senses alight.

“Oh–that feels nice.” you sighed.

As Eddie suckled you, he slowly trailed his hand down the length of your torso, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He paused at the elastic of your underwear, slipping one finger just under the thin white band, but continued no further.

“You can– ah– you can touch me Eddie,” you managed between gasps.

With no further preamble, he slowly slid his hand into the delicate cotton, and his fingers found your heat. He removed his mouth from your nipple, leaving it feeling cool and bereft, before kissing you lasciviously as he slowly pushed a finger inside of you. You gasped, but as quickly as he had entered, he was gone again. He dipped in smoothly a second time, but then turned his attention to your clit, applying gentle pressure and circling it with his moistened finger.

You arched your back and moaned at the sensation. Your senses were heightened, your heart was racing, and you couldn’t believe that you were here, with Eddie, after all this time. You were delighted; you’d waited so long for this, and you were going to enjoy it.

Eddie slowly picked up the pace and pressure of his ministrations. You felt as if all the blood in your body was rushing to the space between your legs, and your body began to tremble. It felt good– damn good. You could hear the wet sounds of your arousal as his fingers picked up speed, and then, without warning, he slid one back inside of you. You moaned as he pumped you with one finger, sliding out, stroking the sensitive button of nerves, pushing back in. You were teetering on the edge of climax when, suddenly, he stopped.

“Wha–” you said blearily, as Eddie padded over to his nightstand.

“I’m just grabbing a rubber babe,” Eddie smiled, as he pulled open the drawer and held up a foil square.

“Ah, right.”

“Just want to be careful, ya know?”

“Of course.”

Eddie paused to look at you, his face painted with adoration and concern. “You sure you’re still okay with this?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yeah, yes.”

Eddie looked angelic. Flushed with desire, his hair slightly mussed, lips reddened from kissing, his boxers tented by his arousal. He walked around the bed to stand at the end, and he gently pulled your underwear off, leaving you fully exposed for the first time. You had to fight to resist the urge to curl into yourself protectively. You weren’t the only naked one for long, however, as Eddie pushed his boxers down, and you were able to see all of him for the first time.

He was beautiful. He was perfect.

He deftly rolled the rubber along his length before he laid down next to you, and let his fingers return to your heat. He leaned down and kissed your neck while he worked you open, this time with two fingers. He slid them inside as he kissed your lips and licked into your mouth, and then he gently climbed on top, allowing you to rest your calves around his hips.

You felt his tip prod your entrance.

“Are you ready?” he breathed into your ear.

“Yes,” you said, and he captured your earlobe with his teeth as he slowly started to push in.

“Ah– fuck,” you cried softly. It felt like white fire had ignited where you were joined and traveled up your body, settling behind your eyes, and a kaleidoscope of sparks clouded your vision. You squeezed your eyes shut and ground your teeth together as you moaned through the sensation. It hurt, but it was a sort of pain you’d never felt before.

“God, babe,” Eddie gasped as another shallow, gentle thrust pulled him deeper. “This okay?”

It wasn’t okay exactly, it stung like hell, but it was okay because this was Eddie, and there was nobody else on the planet you were willing to experience this with.

“Uhhuh, yeah,” you panted. “I’m okay.”

Eddie sat back on his heels and grasped your thighs with his hands, pulling you flush against him and seating himself fully inside of you. His eyes met yours and he smiled at you adoringly as he began to move.

You moaned in sweet agony as each thrust ignited new fires within you, but before you realized what was happening, the pain began to give way to intense pleasure. Your gasps of pain grew to cries of ecstasy, and Eddie could feel you yield to him, could feel the resistance temper, and he delighted in watching the change come over you. White fire was replaced by pure bliss.

He lifted your legs to rest your ankles on his shoulders, and picked up his pace.

Eddie hugged your legs to his chest as he pumped, every thrust hitting deep, the mingled gasps and cries of your lovemaking growing in volume and timbre. You reached out a hand to touch his chest, but he was too far away. Eddie noticed this, and he released your legs to lean forward, bracing himself with his hands on either side of your shoulders, and he kissed you. It was damn hot, the passion of it all, making out so intensely that your teeth clattered together as he fucked you, all of your senses heightened and electrified.

You scratched at his back as your felt your climax building, causing his own pace to falter. Your cries of delight as you came caused his own orgasm to crash into him suddenly, and you both moaned as you rode it out together.

And then all was still.

You breathed together as you came down from the intense sensations you had just experienced, and you could feel Eddie’s heart beating in its cage, his chest pressed against yours. He could feel yours too.

After a moment, he got up, discarded the used condom, and slipped on his boxers, smiling down at your prone, naked body as he did so. “Was that okay? It didn’t hurt too much?”

You thought for a second. “It did hurt at first, that probably can’t be helped. But after a little while, it felt really good. Was I– was I any good?”

Eddie beamed. “Oh babe. You don’t have to ever worry about that. It was incredible.” He headed to the bathroom, and returned shortly with a damp washcloth. He sat beside you and gently tended to your sore, sensitive area. The cool terrycloth was soothing, and he peppered your face with kisses, making you giggle. He tossed the washcloth aside and laid down with you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close.

“Do you want to stay here with me? You can, if you want,” Eddie murmured into your hair. He sounded sleepy.

“Eddie, I want to be wherever you are,” you replied. You were feeling quite drowsy yourself.

“I don’t want the Wheelers to think I kidnapped you,” he said with a small chuckle.

“They know where I am, and we’re all adults, so I’m staying put.”

Eddie grinned. You had no way of knowing what was happening in his heart, but he wished he could transfer part of his joy to you, so you could feel even a fraction of his elation.

Eddie had no way of knowing that you were feeling exactly the same way. He also had no way of knowing that you were planning to transfer to Indiana State in the fall. In time, you would share your hearts fully with each other, but for the moment, you enjoyed just laying in his arms, and drifting off into blissful slumber.

Together. ♥

Thank you for reading! As always, likes, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of all fic writers. Please show us some love! :)

MASTERLIST

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #my writing

993 notes · View notes

bangaveragewhitewine · 5 months

Text

feel the magic

Steve Harrington x Reader

Seven days before Christmas, you find yourself stuck in a snowstorm in the middle of a city you're still finding your place in. You wait out the weather with a handsome stranger.

This prompt is from @allthingsjoeq & @bettyfrommars ❄️ Holiday Prompt Party ❄️ which was so fun! Thank you ladies for sharing these ♥️

You both rush to find shelter in a bookstore or bar during a snowstorm

Word Count: 6.6k

Contents: Set in 90’s Chicago, reader & Steve are both mid-late twenties. Nothing explicit, some kisses and mentions of arousal. Some talk of Steve’s shitty parents. No physical descriptions of reader. Steve Harrington’s charm comes with its own warning.

Note: Thank you @specialagentmonkey for proofreading and being my hype woman as always ♥️

Chicago in December was cold. Very fucking cold.

A million miles from the hot and heavy city you moved to in the summer, there was something about that bitter chill of the air, the frosted pavements and the warm glow of the Christmas lights decked across the city that made it feel like something right out of a movie. You never felt like you could relate to those leading ladies in the romantic comedies and the coming-of-age romances you grew up watching, more like some side-friend character who faded into the background, inconsequential to the plot and action.

It was your first winter in the city, your first Christmas too, and it wasn’t long before you realised that your grandma had been right - investing in a good winter coat was a must for the Windy City. Despite the cold, the shininess of your new adventure in a new city still held up, feeling like the city girl you had always dared to dream of being.

With the holidays too close for comfort - just seven days before you caught a cab to O’Hare to make the journey home - you cashed in some of your overtime and finished work early to hit the city to get the last few presents for friends and family.

The snow had started just before you left the office, a light dusting that made your shopping trip feel even more magical. You had carefully stowed your camera in your bag to snap shots of the big tree at Civic Centre and the lights around City Hall to show your Mom and friends at home. When the snow started to come down heavier and heavier, the fluffy fat flakes falling in the shot made it feel more magical.

As you looked around, soaked in the festivity of it all, you thought that maybe for one day you could play pretend and let yourself feel like the glossy, confident main character of the movie in your head.

By six o’clock the magic of it all had well worn off and you were ready to go home. Your wool winter coat kept you warm-cheeked and overheating as you waited in line in Macy’s to pay for a scarf and fancy hand cream that your Aunt would fake-smile at before tossing it to the side. It felt like years since you had stepped inside the huge store, some sort of liminal purgatory where time didn’t exist and it was far too easy to get lost amongst the shiny Christmas displays and the disorienting overstimulation of the cosmetics and fragrances department.

Your head was surely going to explode if you heard some poor impression of Bing Crosby crooning another Christmassy jingle over the store’s speakers. You were feeling distinctly less festive and fun now - less merry and bright, more murderous and bad-tempered.

Over the tinny muzak and the scratch of your scarf on your too-warm neck, you tuned into the conversation going on behind you.

“That snow is really coming down, huh?”

“Didn’t you hear? It’s some sorta weather-bomb - only going to get heavier.”

You and every other shopper within earshot looked toward the windows, seeing the white flurry instead of the warm glow of Christmas lights.

You became all too aware of the sheer number of bags you were carrying, weighed down with books and gifts and trinkets, the heft of your camera and the bottle of wine you had bought to sip when you got home. The overheated parts of you longed to be cool again, but this felt like some sort of karmic mockery. The tad-too-short-for-work skirt you had chanced and got away with that day felt minuscule beneath your coat as you imagined how cold a weather-bomb was going to be.

By the time you paid and politely refused gift-wrapping for your purchase, the snowstorm had thrown the city into chaos. Traffic was at a near standstill when you reached the front door on State Street, the sidewalks packed with shoppers and commuters battling through the snow and each other to find a way home.

The subway entrance was one street away but seeing the pushing and shoving crowd cramming themselves underground made you feel claustrophobic, twisting hot panic in your gut. Maybe the stop before might be less crazy, you thought, hoping for a better chance of getting home sometime before midnight, so you squeezed away from the crowd and braved the worsening blizzard.

The magic of Christmas had almost fully waned now, despite the snowball fights starting up amongst the gridlocked traffic. You just wanted to get home, feel your fingers and toes again perhaps. You picked your steps through the icy streets, trying not to slip or whack other flustered pedestrians with your bags; they didn’t have the same courtesy or kindness. Patience and Christmas cheer had worn thin, battered by heavy snow.

“Watch it!” one sharp-elbowed woman hissed over her furry coat collar as she shouldered past you, sending you off-balance just as a rogue snowball hit your shoulder.

Had your feet not been aching so badly, you would have stamped like a toddler.

“Bitch.” Your frustrated whisper went unheard as you continued down the block, squinting to pick out a landmark to orient yourself in the snowy city.

You tucked yourself into a side street to regroup and take a breath, attempting to condense your too-many shopping bags to protect the preciously picked-out presents inside. The welcoming glow of a bar sign caught your eye, a blinking beacon through the fluster of snow.

Tucked away down the side street, The Snug appeared like a mirage. Twinkling Christmas lights blurred by the steamed-up windows winked at you, inviting you inside. It was fate.

Surely the snow will stop soon, you thought as you gathered yourself again. One drink and some fries would be plenty of time to let the streets and subways settle.

The cold air made your nose and lungs feel spikey-sore after a few deep steadying breaths. With your bags clutched safely in your hands, you picked your steps toward the almost-hidden bar, dodging patches of ice to get to the door.

Inside was cosy-calm, with clusters of friends and a few fellow solo drinkers hiding from the heavy snow and chaos. It was quieter than the streets and packed subways, their chatter backed by songs queued up from a jukebox glowing in the corner.

You squeezed yourself and your bags into a free booth, taking a load off with a sigh that pulled the tension all the way up from the tips of your toes.

Daringly, you chanced a look in your compact to assess the damage of a day of shopping and going head-to-head with the bitter cold front. Mascara smudged beneath your eyes, hair a riot.

“Shit,” you murmured, pulling the attention from the man at the next table.

He smiled, sympathetic when he saw your flustered state. “You look like you’re in the right place.”

After blowing hair from your face you returned a tight smile. “Thanks, I think.”

His brown eyes widened. “Oh no, no... I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, horrified that he had offended you.

You shook your head, “No, I get it. I look insane. It’s been a day.” Handbag in hand, you looked at him again, smiling a little softer at the flustered stranger. “Could you keep an eye on my bags for a sec? I’m just going to the ladies' room. And the bar.”

The man nodded, sitting back in his chair. “Sure, go for it. I’ll guard them with my life.”

You didn’t miss his charming smile, or the pink tint of embarrassment that lingered on his cheeks after accidentally telling you the truth about just how crazy you looked. You caught the subtle once-over he gave you after your coat was removed and hoped that your sixty-denier tights hadn’t laddered. Your cheeks felt warm again as you made your way to the ladies' room, purse in hand to wrangle your messy hat-hair and fix your face.

As you patted rose-tinted balm onto your lips, you quietly hoped that first impressions could be overwritten.

Armed with a glass of red wine and your receipt for a basket of fries, you returned to your table and tried not to sigh too obnoxiously (or moan) at the relief of sitting down. At the next table, the brown-eyed man was looking over a piece of paper and tapping his pen against his full lower lip.

“Thanks, Stranger,” you said, looking and feeling at least ten times better.

“Oh. You’re welcome,” he said, smiling distractedly before raising his half-drunk beer to you.

You raised your glass in return, sharing that little smile with the stranger before plucking one of the new books from your cluster of bags to distract your busy mind.

Wine and a book in a cosy bar? Maybe the day had not entirely gone to shit.

The stranger went back to his list, and you tried not to let your gaze linger too long on his broad shoulders or his sharp jaw. He looked like he had just finished work, a few shirt buttons undone beneath his navy blazer, his coat and scarf bundled on the chair opposite him with one lonely Macy’s bag on top. You watched him push his honeyed hair back, raking his fingers through the strands falling over his forehead. It was easy to forget to even open your book to start reading in favour of being distracted by him.

There was no denying he was attractive. And there was no denying that you were caught looking when his brown eyes met yours and his lips twitched with a charming smile.

“Steve.”

“Huh?” Wide-eyed, and flushed-hot with embarrassment, you could not find a quick way to explain away your gazing.

“You called me ‘stranger’ before. My name’s Steve.”

“Oh. Of course. Steve.” You gave him your name, watching how he smiled when you said it before repeating it as you had done with his.

“Pretty name. Guess we’re not strangers anymore.”

“I guess not.”

His mouth curved up as he lifted his glass again, taking a slow sip. Your eyes drifted to two perfect moles on his neck as he swallowed; they matched the twin set on his cheek.

Some sort of alarm started to scream in your head; you had forgotten the feeling of being flirted with. If that’s what this was.

“Christmas shopping?” he asked, nodding to your bags.

“Yeah, just about have everything,” you said, “Now I have to wrap it all.” After a steadying sip of wine as your fries arrived, you watched how he twirled his pen between thick fingers, names left uncrossed on the paper in front of him. “Are you stuck?”

Steve slumped back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head before running his fingers through his hair again, making it messy in the most artfully effortless way. “Yeah, a little.” He rubbed his face before looking at you again. “Um, can I pick your brains? I don’t wanna impose…”

This was never how your day was supposed to go. As the snowstorm raged on outside, inside the cosiness of the bar felt like a whole other world miles from your planned evening of gift-wrapping and most of a bottle of wine. Instead, surrounded by soggy shopping bags, you found yourself with the attention of an Adonis-like stranger. You felt like it was some sort of fair deal from the universe.

When you made the move to the city, started afresh with this new chapter, you made yourself promise to take life as it came and not be too uptight. Maybe this was all part of the flow you had vowed to go with…

Smiling at Steve, you pushed your unopened book to the side and leaned forward on your arms, “Sure. Go for it.”

Steve relocated to your booth after a few minutes of chatting. An hour and a half later, he had made himself at home opposite you with his bright smile and dreamy dark eyes.

The bar had become a refuge to a few more bodies seeking shelter from the bitter cold front raging outside. He didn’t need much convincing to share your booth, freeing up the table for a couple huddled together over hot whiskies.

You had insisted on sharing your fries with Steve as you gave suggestions on what he could buy for the last few names on his list. A second basket and another round of drinks had been ordered on his tab when you realised that neither of you would be going home any time soon.

With a greasy-hot fry between your fingers, you tried not to drool over his thick forearms as he rolled up his shirtsleeves, and went back to navigating Steve’s complex network of friends-turned-family.

“So he’s your ex-girlfriend’s little brother? And you stayed friends… because he’s friends with Dustin…? Who’s like your brother?”

As you figured out who the hell ‘Mike’ was, Steve nodded encouragingly and chewed another fry.

“You got it.” His straight white teeth glinted in the warm light of the bar.

“And his sister - Mike’s sister, your ex-girlfriend, Nancy… Is Robin’s girlfriend now? Robin, your best friend?”

“Yep. See, told you you’d wrap your head around it eventually.” His smile was proud as he nudged the fries your way again.

You took two more fries as your reward before nudging the basket back to Steve. You tried not to focus on the way the fries had left his lips shiny, or the pink glow on his cheeks when he caught you staring. Again.

When you realised that this serendipitous stranger who gave you butterflies wasn’t someone else’s boyfriend, you dropped your shoulders and your guard and relaxed into the booth more. You willed yourself to relax, to go with the flow. It was not difficult to let yourself sink deeper into those warm brown eyes of Steve’s as he slowly upped his flirtations and snuck his own barely subtle glances at your lips.

He was smooth.

Steve tapped the paper list with his finger, transferring more salt and oil from the fries to the now annotated and doodled-on list.

“So, any suggestions? He’s the hardest one to buy for, so of course I got him for Secret Santa. Again.” He leaned his head back against the booth. “He’s a little dweeb. Big dweeb now. Taller than me.”

He spoke with such fondness of the kid he swore didn’t like him. It wasn’t difficult to figure out that Steve was maybe one of the most thoughtful people you had ever met. Most of what you had learned about him had been through what he told you about his friends - where he grew up, his collection of poorly paid jobs after high school before going to college in Indianapolis, then onto Chicago. His best friends were never far behind. He would be spending the Holidays with friends and their families instead of his own, which he seemed perfectly fine about.

He was funny too, heavy-handed with charm and kindness. You were definitely done for.

Steve Harrington seemed like an enigma, one you would happily devote hours and hours to figuring out.

The basket fries were pushed back and forth and you wracked your brains to think of a gift for this random college kid you didn’t know. The barman announced that the snow was still coming down heavily, and to make yourselves at home. You had lost all track of time, cosy in the bubble of the booth with your new friend.

His brown eyes fixed on you as he rested his chin in his hand. “All you wanted was a quiet drink and a place to hide from the snow, and now you’re helping some dork with his shopping list. M’sorry, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The butterflies in your gut swooped.

Warm-cheeked, you shrugged, “I don’t mind. It’s distracting me from panicking about how I’ll get home, or if I’ll ever get home. I’m still figuring out the subways.” Picking at the crisp ends of the fries, you tried not to get lost looking into his shiny amber eyes. “I was only going home to wrap presents anyway.”

Steve smiled when you mirrored him, cheek resting on your hand.

“I think this isn’t such a bad way to spend the evening, Steve.”

A pink glow - not entirely from his beer - warmed Steve’s face and he looked down at his almost empty glass. You would think he was being bashful had there not been a grin spreading on his handsome face.

“Oh, you’re trouble.”

You shrugged, attempting to play coy. “What were you supposed to be doing tonight? What are you missing to be here with some strange girl?”

Steve shrugged. “Well, I was Christmas shopping, like you. Killing time. I was supposed to meet my buddy for dinner and drinks, came in to use the phone to cancel when the snow got bad. I’ll catch up with him tomorrow.”

“A buddy on your list?” You asked, nodding to the piece of paper.

“Mhm. Eddie. He didn’t mind too much, I’ll make it up to him.” He sipped his drink again. “He has a gig tomorrow night, so I’ll see if I can help with lifting amps and shit.”

“He’s the heavy metal guy?” you asked, remembering back to Steve labelling him as so easy to buy for.

Steve had not smiled so much in weeks, maybe months. With you, tucked away in The Snug, he basked in the ache in his cheeks, the way you laughed, how you remembered little things about him and his friends.

“I hope these friends of yours realise how much you love them, Steve.”

He liked that blunt edge of your delivery too.

You watched him fluster a little for the second time that evening.

“I do mean that. You’re putting so much of yourself into these presents, not just… I don’t know, throwing money at stuff. There’s so much thought in all of these.” You tapped the paper for emphasis, recognising a little of yourself in the way Steve put thought into his gifts for the ones he loved.

You knew the sting of that thoughtfulness not being returned, or even noticed.

Watching Steve flounder, seeing him resonate with your assessment, you felt a sinking stone in your chest. Too much. Too far. He was still a stranger, a stranger you were practically snowed in with and had probably developed some sort of cabin-fever-bond with, and you had to push it.

“Sorry. Shit. Steve, I should just shut up. I don’t know you, or your friends. I would be so mad if some stranger just-”

His hand, his much bigger, warmer hand, reached for yours and squeezed.

“Stop. It’s okay.” Steve squeezed again, his palm warm as it curved around your hand. “What you said, it’s true. I.. Shit.” He smiled, a sadness in his eyes you had not seen and blamed yourself for, “Here I am dumping my baggage on you.”

Steve sighed but didn’t let your hand go. You didn’t mind; you didn’t want him to.

“My parents just threw money at gifts for me. Totally impersonal shit I didn’t need, or want. They didn’t know me or what I liked, all for appearances and shit like that.” You watched soft fondness pull at the corner of his mouth. “So I put thought into stuff for my friends. They’re my family now. They annoy the hell out of me some days, but I want them to know… I dunno, that I listen. That I hear them. And see them, what they like…”

He trailed off when you turned your hand beneath his and squeezed.

“That’s the sweetest, Steve. They’re very lucky to have you.” Your voice was a gentle murmur, loud enough for him to hear.

He shrugged, playing smooth again despite the reality check he had been dealt. “M’the lucky one. They’re buttheads, but they have my back too. Promise.”

You nodded and tried not to flush when you looked at your joined hands.

“Tell me something about you then, Steve… I don’t even know your last name. What’s your favourite colour?”

He smiled again, back on some new track now after that detour to the trauma dump. “I like yellow. I usually say blue, because when I say yellow people look at me like I’m crazy or somethin’. Yellow. Definitely.”

It clicked then, the warmth of his smile and his presence glowed like yellow sunshine and the golden bulbs of Christmas lights that could warm up the most frigid places. Warm like melted butter on toast and the glow of the lamp beside your bed for reading late into the night. It made you feel warm despite the winter cold.

“And it’s Harrington. Steve Harrington.”

“Yellow suits you, Steve Harrington.”

You and Steve moved on to clove-heavy hot whiskies as you traded questions back and forth, learning about each other little by little. You found it hard not to fall a little bit in love with him as he became less of a stranger to you.

He played basketball in school and swam competitively. His favourite films were Top Gun and Dirty Dancing. He preferred pancakes over waffles and didn’t like bacon on his burgers. You spoke briefly about what you did for work and focused instead on trivial things that showed each other the real you, the real Steve Harrington.

What’s your middle name?

Best Halloween costume?

Most important question ever, crunchy or smooth?

He was as close to perfect as you had ever dreamed someone could be.

Two middle names, Henry Michael.

Maverick, or Sandy from Grease - don’t ask, I’m not drunk enough.

Crunchy, duh. Have you tried it with honey instead of jelly?

A tiny cynical part of you waited for something about him to dislike. You could have kept waiting, kept wondering, but instead you decided to relent to the simple serendipity of it all. Maybe there was nothing to dislike about Steve (Henry Michael) Harrington, and that was perfectly okay.

You sat alone at the table, watching Steve’s broad back as he leaned against the bar to get change for the jukebox. That golden glow of his made him like the North Star in the business of the bar; simultaneously exciting you and making you deliciously nervous.

The first couple of people left the bar to bravely trek home through the mean cold streets a little after nine, promising to call to let the bar staff know they got back safe and advise whether others should stay or chance the journey home. Everyone had agreed to a lock-in until morning if the snow didn’t stop or if the conditions got too dangerous.

You all waited on a collective breath for the phone to ring; drinks flowed, and conversations continued and deepened over strong drinks. Feeling comfortably blurred around the edges, the spirits stayed high despite the less-than-perfect circumstances.

The shrill ringing of the phone behind the bar pulled the air from the room, silence fell.

Home safe. The barman gave a thumbs up and relayed the message that the streets were walkable, a few taxis were running if you were lucky to catch one.

Steve’s searching gaze found yours as everyone else cheered. The bubble had burst.

His smile was a little sad, matching yours despite the good news that you could actually go home. He held up a finger, ‘one sec’, and darted to the jukebox with his handful of change to queue up some songs before you had to say goodbye.

Goodbye.

You didn’t want to say goodbye to Steve Harrington.

A heavy weight settled in your chest as you took stock of your bags, distracting yourself until Steve settled himself across from you again. His hand patted the smooth table top twice, head tilted to look at your face.

“Y’okay?” he asked. “Guess it’s good that we don’t need to sleep here tonight..?”

“Mhm. Definitely. Just… trying to figure out how long it’s going to take me to get home,” you said, not totally a lie. Your smile didn’t meet your eyes, even though you looked forward to getting into your cosy bed with the brushed cotton bedsheets and your fuzzy flannel pyjamas.

“Me too. What way are you headed?” Steve said, an innocent glimmer of hopefulness in his eyes.

When you told him where you lived he nodded. “M’not far from there. I’d… really like to walk you home, if that’s okay? Or try to find a cab…We could share?” Steve rambled a little, his smooth exterior cracking. “Fuck it. I want to make sure you get home safe, and I like talking to you. A little part of me was hoping we’d get snowed in or something so stupid so I could spend more time with you.”

You looked at him across the table, wide-eyed as your heart hammered in your chest.

“Is that crazy of me? I’m coming on way too strong, aren’t I?”

“Steve.”

You smiled, taking his hand. “That would be really great. I kinda hoped the same. I’d like it if you walked me home.”

His smile was blinding as he took your hand between both of his, warm and large. “Okay, great. Cool.”

“Cool,” you echoed, placing your other hand on top of his like a stack as you tried not to giggle or kick your feet.

The familiar opening chords of Old Time Rock and Roll played from the jukebox, making you both grin wider at each other.

“It’s a classic, I couldn’t not put it on,” he said.

You threw your head back, laughing happily as Steve murmur-sang along with Bob Seger, bobbing his head as he crooned quietly for you. You knew about the scar on his arm from when he recreated that scene at a party; slid too hard, right into his mother’s second-favourite vase as his friends cheered him on (then drove him to the ER).

“Don’t tell me you put something from Dirty Dancing on next, Steve,” you teased, seeing his eyes sparkle with a sly sweetness. “Steve!”

Your laugh made him feel tingly-warm all over.

“It’s not Time of My Life or She’s Like the Wind, promise,” he said, smirking as he kept his cards close to his chest. “Promise. We can go when it’s over. If you’re ready to head out?”

You nodded, squeezing his hands before rooting in your bag for your gloves. Knowing that you didn’t have to part ways just yet made the idea of being out in the cold a little more tolerable.

“You been taking photos of the lights?” Steve asked, picking up your camera from the table after taking it out of your bag.

He remembered that ‘new in town’ excitement, still had the photos of him with Robin in front of the tree at Civic Centre (fresh-faced and pink-cheeked after too much mulled wine). The big tree had been nothing on their own lovably wonky tree in their tiny apartment, decorated with cheap baubles and coloured lights and tinsel that shed so much .

“Yeah, to show my Mom. Super cheesy, I know,” you rolled your eyes and watched as Steve turned it so carefully in his hands. “Might get some snaps of the snow, to remember tonight.”

As Steve nodded, an idea bobbed to the surface of your mind.

“Steve? Feel free to say no but… Could I get one of us? To remember…”

As if you would ever forget the night you met Steve Harrington.

Steve watched your teeth sink into your lower lip, let his eyes linger before catching your eyes. You saw the whiskey-brown disappear, swallowed by deep black pupils.

“Only if you get me a copy of it.”

His voice was low, smooth, and made your thighs squeeze - not for the first time that evening either. Without saying as much, you knew it meant he would like to see you again, that he didn’t want to forget you either.

You kept your voice remarkably cool and calm, despite the urge to squeal and kick your feet. “Yeah. Of course…”

He winked before leaning over to catch the attention of the woman at the next table, checking with you before he passed your camera to her with that bright charming smile of his.

The woman directed you both to lean in a little across the small booth table, taking her task very seriously. “You two look great! So cute!” she said, beaming behind the camera.

The opening bars of Hungry Eyes started up as she counted down.

It made the perfect picture; Steve grinning as he watched a giggle burst from your smiling lips. Your head was spinning, your heart beating hard in your chest - when you looked at that photo in years to come, you would never forget that feeling.

He thanked the woman and took the camera back as you soaked the lyrics in, thinking of Steve instead of Swayze. As you tucked the camera away, you realised that the song said more than either of you were brave enough to say out loud.

I feel the magic between you and I…

When your glasses were empty, when the butterflies had settled again, you began to wrap yourselves in your scarves and coats, hats and gloves, and gather your bags and belongings before braving the cold together.

The warmth in your bones from the bar was quickly extinguished by the bitter air outside, though you couldn’t pretend that the snow was not beautiful. A little post-apocalyptic perhaps, but beautiful nonetheless.

“Fuck, that’s cold,” Steve hissed, his words turning to vapour as you set off together, leaving footprints side by side in the crunchy snow.

“No shit,” you teased, giggling at Steve’s scowl.

The combination of frigid air and the alcohol in your blood made you feel delightfully dizzy. Steve’s hair was crushed beneath his beanie hat, the longer ends peeking out beneath between his turned-up coat collar and scarf. Something about how much hair he could squeeze under that fine (expensive) knit hat made you feel terribly fond and giddy about it.

“Okay, smartass. You were such a nice girl in the bar,” he tutted, teasing you back.

“Tricked you,” you shrugged, “I was never nice.” Your chattering teeth make your playful quips much less believable - as if Steve couldn’t see right through you.

“C’mere. Stick by me, we’ll either stay warm or freeze together.” Hooking a hand around your arm, Steve pulled you close to share body heat. Closer than you had been in the bar, body to body, you found that you fit nicely under his arm. Spicy-warm notes of his cologne mixed with whispers of cigarette smoke buried deep in the wool of his coat.

You smiled up at him, a shiver of nervousness down your spine as you realised you were alone together - actually alone now - for the first time.

“This okay?” he asked, pink nose matching his cheeks as he steered you both through the snow.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling back. With your arm wrapped around the thickness of his torso, you squeezed gently and hoped he could feel it through the winter layers. His grin told you he did.

You walked in silence for a while, carrying the weight of ‘when can I see you again?’ and ‘please tell me you feel that spark too?’ with all of your shopping bags.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?” His eyes shone, sparkled with something when he looked down at you.

“We still haven’t figured out a present for Mike…”

Steve hung his head, eyes squeezed shut as your feet slowed down. “This fuckin’ kid.”

He lifted his head after sighing so hard you swore he was going to turn inside out.

“Mike Wheeler is going to be the death of me, I swear to god,” he said, speaking up to the sky. “He’s getting a Sam Goody gift card. Done. I don’t care anymore.”

“Steve Harrington, you can’t pussy-out and get him a gift card,” you tutted, leaning your weight against him to make him swerve.

The way Steve’s laugh echoed through the empty snow-capped streets made your heart flutter. “You did not just accuse me of being a pussy. You’re breaking my heart here, baby.”

When he looked down at you, eyes sparkling with mirth rather than genuine hurt from your playful betrayal, you could not miss how his tongue darted out to wet his pretty pink lips.

Baby echoed in your ears, warming you from the inside.

“You cannot get him a gift card.” Voice quiet and insistent, you squeezed him again, “Think, Steve.”

“I am.” Played-up-pathetic, Steve’s whiney voice made you double-take and giggle at him. “He’s impossible.”

“No one is impossible. Tell me what he likes again. Don’t say ‘nerd shit’, Steve.”

Steve rolled his eyes and you poked his ribs, far too cosy and familiar with the man who was a stranger just a few hours ago.

“Dungeons and Dragons, weed,” he listed, “He writes stuff sometimes, films, uh… Taco Bell?”

“He likes films too?”

“Mm. Studying film. Wants to be a screenwriter or somethin’...”

You hummed and looked up at the clear sky for an answer. “How about… a framed film poster?”

“Say more.” Steve looked down at you, prettier than the stars ever could be.

You forced yourself not to look at his lips, knowing you were a weak tipsy woman at heart. “Well, what’s his favourite film? Posters are pretty easy to find, a nice-ish frame. Slap a bow on it, Merry Christmas, Mike.”

Padded fingers tapped your upper arm as Steve thought, wracking his brains. “When they were kids, they dressed up as Ghostbusters for Halloween. Recreated it this year. Oh, you’re a fuckin’ genius!”

Steve squeezed you tight against his side, and with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, scooped you up with admirable ease to spin around in the snow.

“Steve!” your voice was an undignified yelp, cracked with laughter.

“You’ve saved Christmas!” Steve’s smiling face was brighter than any Christmas lights guiding your path home. Still turning with you, slower now and more careful, he rested his forehead against yours and murmured, “You’re some kinda miracle, baby.”

Steve’s warm whiskey-tinted words whispered over your mouth. Your breath was caught, choked in a gasp in your throat, as he slowed down his spinning to ease you down onto the snowy empty road. Arms still wrapped around each other, shopping bags crushed and be-damned, you stood toe to toe just looking at each other.

“Can I..?” Quietly smooth and charming, Steve’s eyes dipped to your lips.

Instead of giving him an answer, using your words like a big girl, you grabbed a handful of his coat to bring your mouths together in a kiss.

Christmas lights twinkled above you, like movie magic or fairy dust. Lips pressed and lingered, kisses slow and sweet. It was everything you dreamed it would be, better even as Steve hauled you closer still and traced his nose against yours.

Smiling, breaths warming each other’s faces, you let Steve lead the next kiss - after all he had asked so nicely. One gloved hand on your cheek, his lips slotted with yours before he deepened the kiss with a tenderness that made your bones ache. Had he not been holding you so close, had you not been moored safely in the circle of his arms, you would have surely swooned.

His kisses warmed you, sending sparks through your limbs as his tongue grazed yours with a promise of more. You felt his lips tug and smile in response to the tiny gasping noise that escaped from your throat. Slowly, so sweetly, he kissed the side of your mouth and up to the warm apple of your cheek.

“Wanted to do that all night,” he murmured, making sure you were steady to stand before peeling away slightly.

“Me too.” You grinned, a giggle barely held behind your teeth. “Knew you were looking at my lips.”

“Oh yeah? Should’ve kissed you sooner then.” A smiling peck pressed to your lips as your reward, your gold star for being so observant, before you righted and reoriented yourselves for the rest of the walk home.

With most of your bags in Steve’s steady hand (the one that was not keeping you close to his side), you trekked together toward home as more frosty flakes fell from the dark night sky.

The heat of your kiss had melted something more between you, both relieved that you weren’t the delusional one, that you both felt that same something.

Without much traffic, meeting only a few other pedestrians trekking home in the snow, it felt like the journey was about to end far too soon. You passed and pointed out the place where you got your photo-film developed, your favourite diner, Steve’s favourite coffee place which happened to be by the bookstore you liked.

“I don’t wanna be presumptuous,” Steve said, “But I’d love to see you again.” He looked down at your face, feeling his heart beat harder. “I’ve never met someone like you… Y’know, when you click right away?”

“I’d like that, Steve. I’d like that so much.” Butterfly wings fluttered hard in your chest as you watched his smile melt onto his handsome face. “Anyway, I want to know how that Secret Santa goes down.”

His grin was brighter than the snow. “You have full credit for that, honey.” Smiling lips kissed your forehead, just where your hat ended. He had scribbled his number on a clean napkin back at the bar, tucked it in his pocket to slip to you if (when) you said yes to seeing him again.

You let yourself lean into him, nuzzling his cologne-and-smoke-spiced arm before sighing. With your door in sight, you took a breath and made yourself be brave.

“This is me, just up here.”

You spotted the recognition on Steve’s face. This was goodnight - at least it wasn’t goodbye.

“We’re not so far from each other. I’m like.. Five blocks that way.” He pointed off to the left, somewhere you did not bother to follow in favour of looking up at Steve.

Now or never. This didn’t have to be goodnight…

“Hey, so I don't love the idea of you out here on your own in the snow. What if you freeze into an ice cube, or slip and crack your head?”

As your teeth grazed your lower lip, you watched his cheek pulse as he tried not to smile at your dreamed-up worries. Your own smile was barely hidden, ducked briefly behind your thick scarf.

“Huh. I didn’t think of that.” Steve bobbed his head, faux-thoughtful as he considered his next steps. “Pretty perilous…”

“Christmas would be cancelled…” You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Oh shit, you think?” his brows raised beneath his beanie, a knowing smile gave him away. You couldn’t possibly match Steve’s smooth charm.

You took a little breath in before asking the question you both knew the answer to.

“So, you might… You could stay the night? With me. If you want to.”

Steve measured himself and tried not to be too eager at the thought of more time with you, more kisses. “You sure?” he asked, glancing up at your building before looking right back at you.

You nodded slowly, smiling when you spotted the fresh snowflakes on his lashes, dusted over his broad shoulders too. “Mmhm. I’m sure.”

Steve smiled, closing the gap between you to kiss you again as the snow fell. “Then I’ll stay.”

Thank you for reading💙 Likes, reblogs and comments are loved, cherished and stored in a little locket 💙

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #90's steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington x f!reader #promptparty #steve harrington #holiday prompt party #steve harrington fanfic #bangaveragefics

334 notes · View notes

thestarrynightslover · 8 months

Text

Second Time Is the Charm

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 1,211

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Summary: Jay meets the Reader, Hailey's best friend, when she's meeting Molly's for the first time after having moved back to Chicago.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Still not in my best writing but I hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| mastelist |

"Hey, guys! This is my best friend, (y/n) (y/l/n), who I told you about! She just moved to the city a few weeks ago, so, be nice!" You heard your long-time friend, Hailey, warn her coworkers, who she always swore by to be some of the very best people in Chicago.

"Whatcha sayin', Detective Upton? I'm always nice!" a tall guy, who you recognized as being the one Hailey'd had a fling with some time ago, exclaimed, feigning offense.

They all are very sympathetic to you and you can see how they managed to get Hailey's friendship so easily. But there is one person who stands out from the rest of the group. And you just can't help yourself but to stare at the handsome guy who Hailey said is her partner. The famous Jay Halstead. You do know that it's impolite to basically ogle him like that but you. Just. Can't. Stop. He might just be the most beautiful man you've ever seen and that's saying a lot since you'd already lived in many places and had already met lots of hot guys.

Maybe you were dreaming or something but it seemed like he, too, was taking a few glances at you. But you must've been imagining 'cause he never made a single move your way — not that you were dealing any better with this sort of crush.

The hours ticked by faster than anyone there would've imagined with all the friendly chit-chat and the stories being told but, when you noticed the time, you decided it was time to go home, so you announced: "Hey, guys, thanks a lot for tonight! It was really nice meeting you all, I had a blast! But now I think I'mma head home."

"What? No! I can drive you there later," Adam started but you cut him off:

"No need for that, really. I live nearby and the walk home is gonna be good for me!"

"But going alone this time of night…" Kevin trailed off.

"Well I was thinking about heading home too and I'm also gonna walk. So maybe we can go together?" Jay asked, speaking directly to you for the first time in the whole night.

Not really knowing how to politely decline that one, you accepted: "Oh, um, okay, that'd be nice."

"It's really nice of yours to offer to walk me home, Jay. Thank you again." You said in an attempt to break the ice.

"Yeah, no problem. You know I like making myself available for the community!" He said with a wink? Was Hailey's partner seriously trying to flirt with you? "So, back at Molly's everyone explored a lot why you came back to Chicago but I wanna know what made you leave it in the first place, 'cause you went to college here, with Hailey, right?"

"Uh… yeah, we were roommates, actually. But I left for many reasons, the main one being a wish to see what the world had to offer. Which wasn't very hard since I can easily get a job pretty much anywhere I want…" You answered, leaving out the part about how your ex had humiliated you into leaving the city just to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

"Hmmm, I see. But you said work had you moving back?"

"Yeah, well this was an exception because I was being offered a better position in case I came here." And because now you'd already gotten over what happened with your ex.

"Then which one is your favorite city so far?" There he got you, you always had a hard time picking favorites…

"Hmmm, maybe Amsterdam?" You thought that it would be a smooth way to do some flirting of your own. "It can be a very romantic city…" You started, "and I've always seen myself as a romantic, hopeless or not…"

"Oh, is that right?" The detective asked.

"Yeah, well, what can I say if everything romance just makes me happy?" You said, looking up brightly at him. Before he could muster up an answer though, you realized where you were, "Oh, that's my building right there!" You exclaimed pointing at the building across the street. But just as you said it you found yourself being sweetly and longingly kissed by Jay, which caught you completely off guard.

"So…" You started without really knowing how to continue after the kiss.

"So…" He imitated while nervously scratching the back of his neck. "I guess it was a bit awkward to just kiss you like that-"

"No! I, uh, I liked it!" Gosh, you sounded like a teenager, " I mean it wasn't bad or anything."

"Then maybe you'd be okay with giving me your number?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure!" Once again, teenager, dammit! "I, uh, what I mean is that I wouldn't mind it if you wanted to call me sometime, detective. You know, just making myself available for the community." You repeated his previous words with a wink.

"Huh! Careful with those empty promises, ma'am," Jay said playfully.

"Who said anything about empty?" You countered.

"Okay, then… Just know that you might be getting a call from me sooner rather than later." He half confessed while shaking his head.

"Looking forward to it!" You shot back and turned around to walk towards your building. Just as you were about to take the first step though, you decided to take a last glance at him, saying: "Have a good night, detective." He didn't answer, you didn't give him time to. But, as you were almost at the building's door, you heard your phone starting to ring and decided to pick up, since it wasn't very common for you to get calls at that time of night. "Hello?"

"Hi, uh, is this (y/n) (y/l/n)'s phone?" You heard Jay's amused voice on the other end of the line and instantly turned back around to see him, still standing on the other side of the street, purposely in your eyesight.

"Really?"

"You said to call at any time-"

"Hmmm…"

"And I just couldn't wait!"

"Are you making fun of me right now?"

"Not at all!" He quickly responded. "I am, actually, inviting you to grab coffee with me one of these days." At that, your heart started beating faster and you could only hope that he wasn't able to hear it through the phone. "Or, you know, lunch, dinner, whatever you prefer!"

"I, uh, I would love to, Jay." Was all you could answer, as the flirty banter suddenly seemed pointless. "I would love to grab coffee or lunch or dinner with you sometime!"

"Okay. That's, uh, that's great! So, maybe this Saturday? 9 o'clock?"

"Yeah, sure! That sounds good! Just let me know where you wanna me-"

"Nope, nuh-uh, that's not happening! Just be ready by then and prepare yourself to be surprised!"

"Jay, I-"

"Not taking no for an answer! Goodnight to you too, (y/n)." He said and hung up, waving at you as he continued his path. Meanwhile, you went upstairs thinking about Saturday and about how you'd snatched a guy like that on your third day back in the city. Maybe Chicago wasn't as bad as you remembered it anymore...

283 notes · View notes

cruciomione · 6 months

Text

yin and yang: carmy and sydney's creative processes + menu planning

what i love about analyzing carmy and sydney is the way they mirror each other. their similarities and differences, and how they have the potential to complement each other well. truly make each other better at this.

this is most evident with the way they approach creating a dish.

sydney's creative process

evidenced by sheridan (s01e05) and sundae (s02e03), sydney is very imaginative when it comes to creating a dish. the editing in these episodes gives us an intimate view of her creative process. recipes often come to her in dreams/daydreams.

sydney gets inspired by her passion for cooking, her family history and her city/world around her (architecture, nature, other restaurants in Chicago). this really fits into sydney's motivations as a chef.

Sydney uses food to make people happy. She likes to take care of people. someone on here explained the significance of sydney wanting exactly one michelin star, which would signify affordable high quality food that normal everyday people have access to. in braciole she mentions to marcus that her dad and her didn't really go out to eat so when they did, they made it count and it was special. she wants to create an experience like that with her own spot (the Bear).

so naturally that is reflected in her food. its not simply a great meal, but a fabric/archive of her culture, history, worldview and entire character.

while sydney has a very imaginative creative process, she often just jots down her ideas in her little notebook(s), for later reflection.

carmy's creative process

carmy has a more tense relationship with cooking. while sydney and carmy are both amazing chefs, carmy seems to be more jaded and detached from his work.

for carmy he grew up in a household where food was a big part of his family. his mom, mikey, and nat can all cook well. he is naturally very great at it. he uses food to be closer to the people he loves. thats why in the face of rejection from his brother, he goes off and becomes one of the best chefs in the country out of spite. why he uses the beef to try and fix his relationship with mikey. why he was so devasted when syd quit and why he started his dream restaurant with her after she came back.

because we dont get an intimate look into carmys psyche when creating a dish, its harder to say but based off his monolouge in braciole (s01e8) and the way he uses food to connect with people he loves rather than having passion for it independently i can surmise that carmy isn't imaginative as sydney. food is more like a math equation (ironic)/a science.

“he’s the best bc he didn’t have any of the bullshit”, emotional ties/relationships of any kind. his career esp at EMP were isolating, rigid and cold. he was the best bc he was calculating, precise and competitive. which breeds excellence in his field while straying him further away from love and true passion.

i imagine carmy to be more pragmatic with creating a dish.

but carmy is a creative person at his core and while creating a dish might not be as colorful as when sydney does it. we do know that carmy can draw and visualize his ideas onto paper. "Sistine Chapel" level drawings according to syd.

sydney + carmy - potential true partnership

on my 3rd rewatch, i couldn't help but feel so dissatisfied with their partnership. granted this is on purpose since the show is only 2 seasons in and they are trying to do a slow burn in all aspects, not just romantic.

it really hit me that carmy and sydney have never - at least on screen - created a meal together. in s1, we never see the risotto come to fruition, we just get carmys input but never the finished product. in s2 finally, carmy and Sydney work together now that their dynamic has changed from boss and employee to partners. we get like what? 4 scenes of them creating the menu, and having this amazing professional chemistry but ultimately leads to two failed dishes, which would be ok if they worked together after that. but they dont...

instead for the rest of the season, we see them (mainly Syd) working on the menu separately. the menu is....alright. mainly has carmy written all over it (he has a the seven fishes + cannolis, weird homage to one of the worst nights of his life).

*putting on another pair of shipper goggles to say this makes the whole "you make me better at this" confession, even more mind-boggling bc better at what? you guys haven't even worked together all season. this = life , i rest my case*

in s3 and beyond, im excited for them to truly start working together as partners and actually see them create a dish together.

i want to see how their approaches to creating a dish can help the other.

how sydneys creative process can help carmy

besides the obvious romantic implications of the palette cleanser outing, the potential for them to understand each other on a deeper level in regards to food is something i mourn everyday.

after sydney goes on her trip solo, we see her ride the ferry and just take a look at her surroundings. shes thinking about the food she ate, shes looking at buildings, windows, looking at the snow. all inspiration for a dish.

imagine if carmy was there with her. he would be curious about what she's thinking about, get insight on how she creates and maybe want to learn to see food in a less practical way.

i mean he hadn't drawn in years it seems until he was inspired by sydney and the chaos menu to draw again....now imagine if he didn't ruin the moment by bringing up claire (LMFAO). the point is, sydney naturally sparks creativity and passion in him, even when they aren't together.

i know many people are theorizing that carmy will leave the culinary industry (and i agree most of the time) but i also think sydney is slowly but surely helping him discover/re-discover a passion for cooking. i think that carmy likes that sydney likes to take care of people because subconsciously he knows he does the same thing or has the potential for it (i.e making tiff sprite from scratch when she was experiencing morning sickness). evidenced by fishes (s02e6), care often feels like an obligation (he takes care of drunk donna when shes going through an episode) but it doesnt have to be this way. and now carmy wants to get a star for her....their interests are slowly aligning.

how carmys creative process can help sydney

this isn't as concrete as the one above but i found it interesting thinking about how carmys more pragmatic approach and sydneys idealistic approach can work in tandem.

first scene in pop (s02e5) shows sydney and tina late at night working on the tasting menu. later in the episode we find out that carmy has been pushing back menu planning leaving sydney on her own. she trying an elements concept which is extremly creative and impressive but even tina says, which sydney later agrees, that its a lot for a tasting menu.

im stretching maybe....but based on carmys comment on her risotto from the season before (needs acid) + his practical approach, it seems like he acts like a buffer when sydneys ideas get "a lot".

*in chemistry buffers are solutions added to resist pH changes when acidic and basic components are added*

so if carmy needs to be more creative and sometimes sydneys ambitions gets ahead of her....

sydney is the heart, while carmy is the brain (???)

one cannot work without the other. when they truly come together to create the menu, they both need to learn from one another to elevate the restaurant. not to mention with carmy's italian american roots and syd's Nigerian-Caribbean/southern roots, they have the potential for amazing fusion dishes and real partnership. i and others want the menu to physically reflect both of them.

conclusion

i literally dont know where im going with this. sorta kinda meta but its more like hopes and dreams for next season and me wanting to type my ideas down.

they complement each other well ok? and have potential for a great partnership once they communicate better. i like this part of the definition of yin and yang: Their interaction is thought to maintain the harmony of the universe and to influence everything within it.

carmy and Sydney are the leaders of the bear, their relationship is foundational to the success of their restauarnt and team, once they work together truly, play to their strengths and weaknesses, then will come true harmony in their universe.

bonus

more sydcarm parallels/similaries/differences/yin yang moments:

carmys gold chain, syds silver earrings

carmys white t-shirts, syds white button ups

carmy is bad at math, syds great with numbers

carmy wasn't really great at school, this is sorta fanon but i can imagine syd excelled in school

both wear birkenstocks (more a chef thing but i still think its cute)

sunshine x grumpy trope but like better...usually the sunshine (syd) is more emotionally vulnerable making a space for grumpy (Carm), but they switch positions. carmy allows sydney to be more emotionally vulnerable often initiating deep conversations, while syd is more closed up/guarded

overall tho i think its cute that they are both shy/emotionally stunted but i do think purely aesthetic wise, sydney has a softer exterior ( doe eyes, colourful scarves, awkward) while carmy is more intimidating (tats, smokes, looks angry all the time)

both fight dirty - i.e their individual fights with richie (review, the bear)

carmy tho is more prone to outbrusts of anger/violence while sydney lets that shit shimmer until she explodes on you

both their passcode being 11111

carmy having dark mode on his phone, syd having light mode in s2

their matching clothes moments earlier in the second season and in bolognese

if theres more, pls comment/reblog, bc i always think of this shit and need more to cry about

fin!

credits: gif 1&2 , gif 3 and gif 4

#the bear #sydcarmy #the bear fx #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #sydcarmy meta #carmen x sydney #chefs kiss #its so late man i dont even care if this doesnt make sense im rambling #the bear meta

158 notes · View notes

endless-summer-soldier · 7 months

Text

something like that - part one [Steve Harrington x Reader]

pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

summary: Steve eyes a beautiful stranger at the country fair and he has a feeling she's going to end up being someone special. little does he know, his mysterious stranger is Robin's cousin.

word count: 7.8k

a/n: I have been completely obsessed with Steve Harrington recently and this idea just popped into my head. there will be part two coming soon!

part two

Steve ran a hand through his luscious locks before putting on his wayfarers and stepping out of his BMW. The smell of kettle corn hit him square in the face as he walked into the fair. He felt a little old to be at a kids fair as a rising Hawkins senior, but it was a tradition and the perfect way to send off the summer.

Steve didn’t get very far before being nearly assaulted by his long-haired friend. Eddie wrapped his elbow around Steve’s neck and pulled him close to his chest, threatening to give him a nuggie.

“Don’t do it…” Steve warned.

“Or what?” Eddie challenged. Steve couldn’t see his friend but he could picture the cheshire cat grin spread across his face. Eddie yielded and Steve straightened, instinctually reaching for his hair.

“Relax man, you still look like an adonis.”

“The hair doesn’t just happen naturally, it's a process,” Steve explained.

“Oh I bet,” Eddie teased.

He continued talking but Steve missed every word because in that moment he was distracted by the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was wearing a stone-washed denim mini skirt, a navy Chicago Bears T-shirt that was cut at the collar and fell off her shoulder, and a pair of pristine white Keds sneakers. Her hair was teased up in a half up, half down style tied with an orange scrunchie.

“Wow,” Steve said to himself, mesmerized.

“Earth to dingus,” broke his trance. He turned back towards Eddie and saw Robin had joined them.

“What’s that?” he asked, returning to reality.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” Robin asked.

“No,” Steve responded candidly.

Robin sighed and rolled her eyes, “I said my cousin’s visiting from Chicago so be cool.”

“I’m always cool,” Steve responded. He turned back to the ticket line to see if the mysterious Bears fan was still there and was surprised to see she had joined their group, sliding in between him and Robin.

“Hi…hi…hello,” Steve said awkwardly, completely negating his previous claim. Eddie smirked at him and Robin tilted her head and looked at him bemusedly.

“Hey,” she said normally. “I’m Y/N.”

“Yes, this is my cousin Y/N. These are my friends, Eddie and Dingus,” Robin said, providing an introduction.

“Dingus?” she said, looking curiously at Steve.

“It’s Steve,” he said, shooting daggers at Robin.

“Pleasure to meet you Y/N. Shall we?” Eddie asked. He took charge toward the Tilt-a-Whirl and Y/N followed as Robin hung back with him.

“Very cool back there,” Robin teased.

“Shut up.”

“Since when does you freeze up around a pretty girl?”

“She took me by surprise. I saw her from afar before I knew who she was and…I don’t know I just got these butterflies in my stomach. It was like time stood still.”

“You are such a cliche,” she commented.

“I like to use the word romantic.”

“Well don’t waste your time. She’s way out of your league.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s really nothing against you. She lives in the city where there’s a lot more going on. Her life is completely different. Meanwhile we’re stuck here in the middle of nowhere and everyone knows everyone’s business.”

He considered her point, but wasn’t giving up that easily. He just had this feeling that she was…special. Maybe a city girl was what he needed. Someone who had other things on her mind than small town gossip. Maybe she could be his ticket out of Hawkins.

“Does she have a boyfriend?” he asked Robin.

She shook her head, “Not right now.”

A smile spread across his lips, “Then I’m giving it my best shot.”

She knew there was nothing she could say to change his mind. They caught up with Eddie and Y/N at the line for the Tilt-a-Whirl. Y/N was eyeing the ride skeptically.

“I might sit this one out, I don’t do well with spinning,” Y/N announced. Steve knew this was his chance.

“I can wait with you,” Steve volunteered.

“You love the Tilt-a-Whirl,” Eddie commented.

“Oh, you don’t have to wait with me. I’ll be fine,” she protested.

He shrugged, “I’ve been on it a million times. I can sit this one out.”

“Are you sure?” she asked him.

“One hundred percent.” He nodded at Robin and Eddie and they got in line.

“Thanks,” she smiled at him.

“Of course, I wasn’t gonna leave you by yourself when you don’t know anyone here.”

“That’s very sweet of you.”

“And you’re in luck.”

“Oh I am?”

“You are, because now you have a personal tour guide for the Hawkins Fun House.”

“Wow, are you certified to give that tour?”

“Not to brag, but I have lived here my whole life.”

She let out a small laugh and Steve had never heard a more beautiful sound.

“Lead the way,” she smiled. It was a short walk across the fairgrounds to the fun house. Y/N looked with intrigue at every ride and booth that they passed.

“You have fairs like this in the big city?” he asked.

She shook her head, “Not really, not like this. There are some ferris wheels around but nothing as expansive as this.”

“I’m sure the city has a lot of things to offer though.”

“Oh definitely. I love Chicago, but it is nice to come out here every now and then to get away from it all. There’s something appealing about small town life.”

“It gets old quick. I’ve been dreaming about leaving this place since I was kid.”

As they approached the fun house, Steve pulled out his bundle of red tickets and ripped off four. Y/N reached into her pocket for her tickets when Steve placed a gentle hand on her arm.

“I’ve got you,” he said, tearing off two tickets and handing it to her.

“Thanks,” she smiled up at him.

“I wouldn’t be a very good tour guide if I made you use your own tickets.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that in the review at the end.”

“I’d appreciate that,” he joked back. The line was non-existent so they cruised right to the entrance after placing their tickets in the collection bucket.

“Now I should let you know that this is the actual fun house at the end of Grease,” Steve said, doing his best Vanna White showcase.

“Really?” she asked, suddenly interested.

“Well…no. I may have embellished a little,” he smirked as they entered the house. The first obstacle was simple: a portion of the floor that moved up into a slight peak, and then back down. The two navigated it with ease.

“Steve, you’ll make a great lawyer someday,” she commented.

“God I hope not.”

“No? I can see it though. You in an expensive plaid suit, talking your way out of your clients’ problems.”

The next section of flooring moved in two different directions, the left side sliding forward and then back while the right side slid back and then forward. With a few quick steps across they were through.

He scoffed, “My dad would love that but I don’t know if it's for me. I haven’t quite figured out my calling yet.”

“Me neither. I’m just trying to focus on getting into college right now.”

By now, they were walking through a bunch of giant foam cylinders that were hanging from the ceiling. They pushed them aside as they walked through to the next obstacle.

“I don’t even know if college is in the cards for me. It’s like my whole life I’ve had all this pressure put on me to do what my parents want me to do and I never really got to make my own choices. This is the first time when I’ll get to figure things out myself. It’s a little scary,” Steve admitted.

“But it’s also very exciting. Going outside your comfort zone is kind of thrilling.’

He pondered her thought for a moment, “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“I think the best thing you can do is go with your gut and make the best out of every situation.”

“That’s very good advice. You should think about being a therapist.”

She let out a small chortle, “My mom is a therapist. So that is probably years of listening to her counseling wearing off on me.”

They paused at the next obstacle, a set of small spinning discs that they had to walk across. He checked on Y/N, knowing she didn’t like spinning, but before he could hold out a hand to help her across, she was jumping along the discs like they were stepping stones across a creek. She turned back toward him and said, “You coming?” He followed her lead, navigating the discs with ease. Next they reached a jungle of bungee cords, arranged in a way that forced them to climb and duck through to the other side. Steve led the way, pushing aside some of the cords for Y/N.

“So I have to ask, are you a Bears fan?” he asked her.

“Huge Bears fan,” she replied, “I don’t miss a game.” They emerged from the bungee jungle and she added, “If you tell me you’re a Packers fan, I don’t think I can talk to you anymore.”

He let out a laugh, “Don’t worry, I was born and raised a Bears fan.”

“Good answer,” she smiled. “How do you feel about the Colts moving to Indianapolis?” He was impressed with her football knowledge. Most of the girls in Hawkins couldn’t even name an NFL team.

“I’m all for it. I’m certainly not becoming a Colts fan, but if it means I can see some more games in person, I’m happy about it.”

They looked at the next obstacle ahead of them, which appeared to be a normal walkway. As they started walking across, a jet of compressed air went off. The noise and rush of air startled the two of them. Y/N instinctually grabbed his hand and pulled him across the walkway.

They stood there on the landing, flushed and giggling. Y/N had realized she had grabbed this near stranger’s hand and casually dropped it, changing the subject to avoid any further awkwardness.

“Have you been to a Bears game?” she asked.

“Just once, I was probably seven or eight. My dad surprised me one day with tickets. We drove the few hours up to Chicago and had pretty good seats near the sidelines. The Bears played the Vikings and ended up winning in the last few minutes. It was one of the best days of my life.” Despite sharing this happy memory, Steve didn’t seem to recall it with fondness.

She picked up on his facial expression, “Is there more to that story?”

“Am I that transparent?” he asked.

She shrugged, “I’m good at reading people.”

He sighed, feeling this strange compulsion to open up to her. “Years later, I found out that my dad only took me to that game because one of his clients cancelled last minute. So I spent years thinking my dad planned out this whole day for me, when I was just his plan B.”

“That’s really shitty,” she said, empathetically.

He let out a laugh at her comment. “It is, isn’t it.”

“I’m really sorry that happened to you.” The look in her eyes was genuine and he could tell she meant it.

“I can’t believe I just opened up about my dad to someone I just met. Are you sure you don’t want to be a therapist.”

She let out a laugh, “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” The next section of the fun house was a mirror maze. You had to navigate through, finding the correct pathway while being surrounded by mirrors that caused confusion.

“Now this is the hard part,” he said, putting on his tour guide voice. “You don’t want to go through too fast because you might run head first into a mirror.”

“Do you speak from experience there?”

“It’s possible,” he laughed.

Y/N walked into the mirror maze first and Steve followed behind her. She navigated with a sense of precision, analyzing all her options before making a route decision. As she continued through, she gained more confidence and started walking faster.

“If it’s any consolation…” she started, turning around to finish her statement. She zigged when she should have zagged and Steve wasn’t paying attention to their route, too focused on the sparkling green eyes looking up at him. Y/N walked backwards into a mirror and Steve didn’t have time to react. He ended up pinning her to the mirror, his hands placed on her shoulders out of reaction.

There was a moment where their eyes connected in such close proximity and Steve almost leaned in further. But he caught himself, not wanting to come across too strong. He took a step back, but left his hands on her shoulders, searching her eyes for any signs of pain, which he didn’t find.

“What were you saying?” he asked, hoping this would keep them moving through the maze. It was difficult to be this close to her, to take in the scent of her perfume, without acting on his impulses.

She shook her head, as if bringing herself out of a daze. “Oh, um, just the next time you’re in Chicago I’ll take you to a game. As a first choice.”

He smiled at her, “I’d like that.” He took his hands off her shoulders and she walked past him in the other direction. He let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and followed her out of the maze.

The final section of the fun house was dedicated to a section of curved mirrors. When Y/N reached the last one, Steve stood next to her and they laughed at their distorted reactions. The effect of the mirror inflated Y/N’s head but emphasized Steve’s lower half.

“What a cute couple,” Steve commented.

“It’s perfect, your ass distracts from my nose,” Y/N added, referring to their exaggerated reflections. Still, hearing her talk about his ass made him blush ever so slightly. They walked towards the exit of the fun house which was a giant spinning cylinder that you had to walk through.

“Now this is the barrel of love. It’s tradition to hold hands when you walk through.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, slightly skeptical of his assertion.

“Yeah, my mom always held my hand when we walked through it.” While this fact was true, he knew she wouldn’t be able to turn him down.

“Do you use that on all your dates when you take them through the fun house?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve taken through here.”

She studied him, trying to figure him out, “Do you honestly expect me to believe you have hair like that and haven’t dated anyone?”

“Oh I’ve dated girls, but no one who I’ve deemed worthy to share the fun house with.”

“So you brought me, some random girl you just met?”

“You’re special.” She squinted, trying to figure out what he meant by that. So he added, “You’re a Bears fan,” as if it was obvious. That elicited a smile out of her and she warmed back up.

He walked toward her and held out his hand, which she eventually took. They walked through the barrel of love, hand in hand, smiles on their faces, and Steve thought if he died in this moment, he would die happy.

Once they were back on the grass, Steve turned to her and said, “How did you like it?”

“I loved it. I’ve never been through a fun house before.”

“Just like Grease, right?”

“Pretty close. You could definitely convince some future dates that this is a famous Fun House.”

“Oh, I can’t take any other girls in there,” he added.

“Why not?”

“Because it’ll always remind me of you.” They were still holding hands and he looked towards her as he said this. A faint blush crept up her cheeks, and she looked away but kept a firm grip on his hand.

“You barely know me,” she deflected.

“But I want to.”

“I don’t even know your last name.”

“Harrington. And are you a Buckley?”

“I am not. My last name is Y/L/N. Robin’s mom and my Dad are siblings.”

“Are you two close?”

“Yeah, considering we really only see each other a few times a year. I grew up with brothers so Robin is the closest I’ve had to a sister.”

As they passed several food stands, Y/N eyed the menus, realizing now how hungry she was.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Actually yes.”

“Then I know just the place.” Steve led the way, Y/N’s hand clutched tight in his. He never wanted to let go of her. They wove through the crowd as Steve navigated to the food stand he was looking for.

“Have you ever had a corn dog before?”

“I haven’t. We have a pretty specific formula for hot dogs in Chicago.”

“That settles it. We’re getting corndogs.” Steve walked up to the window and ordered them two corn dogs. He didn’t want to let go of her hand, but he had to grab his wallet from his back pocket. Once he paid, he handed the first corn dog over to Y/N and then took the second for himself. He led her over toward the condiment table where they took turns zig-zagging mustard over the breading.

Y/N grabbed a few napkins and they found a table to sit and eat for a minute. Steve opted for the seat next to her as opposed to the bench across from her and she didn’t seem to mind. He watched as she took her first bite, waiting for her reaction.

She nodded, “Okay, I see the appeal. This is pretty good.”

“It’s classic fair food, I had to give you the full experience.” As Steve took his first bite, he didn’t notice when a glob of mustard fell onto his perfectly clean white shirt. Y/N spotted it immediately and grabbed one of her napkins.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” she joked, as she wiped the mustard off his right pectoral.

“You’re one to talk,” Steve said, he brought the edge of his thumb to the corner of her mouth, where a smudge of mustard was waiting to be wiped.

“Thanks,” she grinned at him. She wasn’t sure when she got so comfortable with a complete stranger. He had this magnetism and she felt herself constantly wanting to be near him. She was intrigued by this small town boy and she wanted to know more.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she saw movement coming from the bench across from them.

“There you guys are! I should’ve known you’d be by the food.” Robin and Eddie had found them. Steve didn’t even realize how long they’d been gone.

“Sorry, I had to introduce Y/N to her first ever corn dog.”

All that Y/N had left remaining of the corn dog was the stick. “I hated it,” she joked.

“Well, Eddie and I were just talking about hitting up some of the games. Care to join?”

Steve looked to Y/N, letting her respond to the question. The smile on his face grew even further when she agreed. All he wanted to do was win her a prize.

The quartet made their way through each booth, partaking in ring toss, balloon darts, and carefully selecting a rubber duck from a flowing makeshift river in the hopes there was a star sticker placed on the bottom. Despite the countless tickets that were forfeited, the group had yet to collect any prizes, and Steve was not having that. Eddie and Robin were challenging each other in the shooting gallery, the competition rising with every round, but Steve had his sights set on another booth.

He lightly tapped Y/N on the shoulder and signaled for her to follow him. She did without question and they landed at the milk bottle stand. There was a pyramid of three milk bottles on a platform and three baseballs placed in front of the structure.

“Alright, what prize do you have your eye on?” he asked her.

She studied the border of the stand and pointed to an aquamarine stuffed bear with a shooting star on its white belly.

“The Care Bear?” he asked for clarification.

She shrugged and said, “They’re cute.”

He held up his hands and said, “No judgment here.” Steve called over the teen manning the booth and handed over his tickets, receiving three baseballs in the exchange.

“Steve, isn’t this game like notoriously rigged?”

“It is, but I know the strategy to win.”

“Oh you do?”

“I can’t tell you what it is, but I can show you.” Steve took the first baseball in his hand and threw it up a few inches in the air, getting a feel for the ball. He wound up and released, easily knocking the right hand bottle off the platform. The top bottle fell and landed on its side, still sitting on the platform in front of the bottle on the left. Steve picked up the second projectile and didn’t hesitate as he pitched it straight at the horizontal bottle. The resting bottle spun with force as it slid off the pedestal, taking the upright milk bottle with it.

“And that’s how it's done,” Steve smiled at Y/N. The booth attendant rolled his eyes before pulling down the Care Bear in the top corner. He handed the prize to Steve, who immediately handed it to Y/N.

The two looked at the stuffed bear, realizing it was some sort of knock off Care Bear with the eyes sewn crookedly, giving it a somewhat deranged appearance.

“Aw, he’s so ugly. I love him,” Y/N, squeezing the cheaply stuffed creature. “Every time I look into his crossed eyes, I’ll remember the moment Steve Harrington defied the odds of the milk bottle stand.” She looked up at him with a smile and he thought maybe this was his moment to make a move, but he was interrupted when Robin and Eddie found them again.

“What a creepy looking bear,” Eddie declared.

“He’s an original,” Y/N defended.

“We’re thinking one more ride and then we’ll head to the lake,” Robin offered. Y/N nodded her head in agreement and Steve had to hide his smile. He was glad Y/N wasn’t planning on leaving them after the fair.

Steve scanned around the fairgrounds, thinking through what the best last ride would be when his eye caught the Tunnel of Love across that way. How could he get her there? Eddie and Robin would never go for it, but could he sneak away from them…

“Don’t even think about it,” Robin whispered in his ear, as if reading his mind.

“Ferris wheel?” Eddie suggested. They all nodded in agreement and headed toward the center of the park. There was a bit of a line, but it always moved quickly. Steve noticed the sun was just about to set and he thought if he played his cards right, he could time this out perfectly. As they moved through the line, Steve tried to position himself near Y/N so that they would end up in the same car. But as soon as they got to the front of the line, Robin foiled his plans. She slid past Steve and grabbed Y/N’s hand, dragging her into the next cart.

Steve let out a frustrated sigh and watched as his friend stole away his perfect moment. Y/N looked back toward him with a sorry smile.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me,” Eddie commented, as they walked into the next cart.

“I don’t know why Robin is hell bent on cock blocking me.”

“She’s just trying to protect her cousin. You’d do the same thing.”

“Yeah but it’s me. She knows I’m harmless.”

“Well then maybe she’s trying to protect you.”

“Me? From what?”

“From falling in love,” Eddie suggested.

“I think it might be too late for that,” Steve admitted.

“Such a hopeless romantic,” Eddie tsked. They were moving up toward the top of the wheel and the sunset painted the sky a beautiful watercolor of pink, purple, and orange.

“You ever met someone you just instantly connect with? Someone who is so easy to be around and who you want to spend every second with? Someone you want to know everything about?”

Eddie pondered for a moment, “No. But I believe that it happens.” Steve looked out hopelessly at the sunset, thinking of nothing but the beautiful girl in the Bears shirt.

“Can I give you some advice?” Eddie asked.

“Sure. But no promises that I’ll follow it.”

“That’s fair,” Eddie agreed. “Just enjoy tonight. Don’t think about what happens when she goes back to Chicago. Be appreciative that you get to spend time with her now. And trust that if things are meant to be, they’ll happen.”

Steve considered his words carefully and realized Eddie’s advice was surprisingly high quality.

“That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“See? This is why you keep me around.”

The ferris wheel completed its last lap and started slowing down, allowing the riders ample time to unload, and soon they were off the ride. They circled up at the exit and walked together back toward the field of parked cars.

“You guys need a lift to the lake?” Eddie offered to Robin and Y/N. Steve shot daggers at him, slightly annoyed that he was losing even more time with the out-of-towner he fancied.

“Yeah, that’d be great!” Robin exclaimed.

“I’ll meet you guys there,” Steve commented, diverting from the group.

“Oh shit, I just remembered I took out the back seats of the van to make room for Gareth’s drum set. Harrington, do you mind driving Y/N?”

Eddie gave Steve a knowing look and Steve made a mental note to thank his friend later. “Yeah, no problem,” Steve replied, hoping he played it cool.

Eddie and Robin took off down the row of cars while Steve started walking in the other direction with Y/N.

“Thanks for driving me,” she smiled, accidentally grazing her shoulder with his bicep as she walked next to him.

“Well I couldn’t let you roll around in the back of Eddie’s van. You’re probably better off with me anyway. Eddie’s van always seems to be a few miles away from its next breakdown.”

They approached Steve’s car and he unlocked the doors and quickly ran to the passenger side to open the door for her.

“Oh yeah, I think I’ll be much more comfortable in the beemer.” Steve was suddenly embarrassed by his flashy car. It wasn’t his first choice, he would’ve much preferred something a little more…normal.

“It used to be my dad’s. He decided he wanted a new car and he gave me this one.”

“Seems very generous,” she commented.

“Eh, I think it was just another way for him to flash his money. Giving his teenage son a BMW.”

“Well at least you have a car. I don’t even know how to drive. I have to take the bus everywhere.”

“I’ll teach you how to drive,” he immediately offered.

She scoffed, “You’re gonna teach me how to drive in the next…sixteen hours?”

“Sure, come take the wheel and I’ll walk you through it.” Steve got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. Y/N was still sitting in the front seat when Steve opened the door.

“Steve, I am not driving your BMW,” she laughed.

“Why not? This is the perfect place to learn. It’s a small town, the roads aren’t that crowded. And I’m a great teacher.”

“I don’t even have my permit,” she protested.

Steve shrugged, unfazed. “So? You’re not gonna get pulled over here.” She looked like she was debating things in her mind. “Come on, live a little,” he nudged. She looked up at him and sighed, knowing she couldn’t say no to him.

“Okay,” she said in disbelief. She climbed out of the front seat and walked around to sit behind the wheel.

She sat behind the car and Steve told her how to move the seat up so that her feet could reach the pedals.

“Now, before we get started, what sort of driving experience do you have?”

“None?” she offered with a tight smile.

“Bumper cars?” he suggested.

She shook her head, “Okay, no problem.” He started on the basics, explaining the difference between the gas and the clutch and how to operate the stick shift. Y/N sat there, mesmerized with the ease in which he explained everything. It all made sense but understanding the theory of driving and doing it were two separate things.

“Okay, you’re going to gently tap on the clutch as you turn the keys to start the car.” She nodded her head and followed his instruction. The car started humming with ease and Y/N turned to Steve with a brilliant smile on her face. He could have melted right then and there. “That’s perfect. Now keep your foot on the clutch and move into first gear. We’ll start slow until we get out of the lot.” She did as he instructed and the car was slowly moving as she pressed the gas. Steve talked her through her first turn, which took more effort than she was expecting. Once she was on the road, he talked her into a gear shift and she drove faster. She seemed nervous but exhilarated and Steve calmly talked her through all the motions, giving her more than enough time to follow his instructions. Before they knew it, they were pulling into the gravel lot that led to Lovers’ Lake. He talked her through how to put the car in park and once she cut the engine, she turned to him with a look of pure joy.

“I did it,” she smiled.

“Of course you did.”

She turned and looked at the steering wheel, “I was sure I was going to crash into something.” She fixed her gaze back on Steve, “You really are a great teacher.”

“You’re a really great student,” was what came out of his mouth. It wasn’t his finest comment but it didn’t seem to matter. She was looking at him with a sense of wonder. He leaned in a bit, thinking this could be his opening when he was interrupted by an insistent knock on his window. Robin’s face was pressed up on the glass and he could hear her say “What took you so long?”

Y/N let out a sigh and got out of the car. “Steve let me drive,” she provided as an explanation.

“But you don’t know how to drive,” Robin commented.

“She does now,” Steve smiled, sending a quick look Y/N’s way. Robin snaked her arm through her cousin’s and walked her toward the lake, filling her in on what she needed to know about the lake crowd.

“I owe you one,” Steve said, patting Eddie on the back.

“You owe me nothing. I just like to see my friends happy.”

“When did you become such a sap?” Steve teased.

“You must be wearing off on me.” The two boys approached the edge of the lake where their peers were already sipping beers and starting a bonfire.

Robin was introducing Y/N to a few of her classmates and Steve made his rounds and grabbed a beer from the cooler. He wanted to go scoop Y/N up again, but he decided to wait until Robin had a few beers in her and would be distracted by her crush on Vickie. So he hung back with Eddie.

He wasn’t sure what they talked about or how long they stayed there, but Steve hit the point when he needed another beer so he left Eddie in favor of the cooler. As he cracked a fresh can of Budweiser, he felt a chill go up his spine and he scanned the crowd, looking for his dream girl. Sure enough, she was still here but Robin was no longer by her side. She had been cornered by Billy Hargrove and he knew nothing good would come from this. He took a big sip of his beer for courage and walked over there.

“This guy bothering you?” Steve called over to Y/N as he approached the duo. Y/N looked at him with relieved eyes and he knew he interjected at the right time.

“Harrington, what a lovely surprise,” Billy said sarcastically, turning to face Steve.

“Leave her alone, Billy. She’s not interested,” he said, standing in a protective stance in front of Y/N.

“And how would you know?”

“Because there is no way a girl that beautiful is single,” he said.

“It’s okay if you’re not single. It can be our little secret,” Billy whispered the last part.

“I know this might come as a shock to you, but some of us have morals. So go take your lingering gaze somewhere else,” Steve asserted. Bucky stared him down, calculating if it was worth his time to stay and fight back or if he had a better chance getting laid elsewhere. The latter option seemed to win out as he crushed his lit cigarette under his boot and left them with “Your loss.”

He wandered off, in search of his next target and Steve turned around to face Y/N.

“Did Robin not warn you about him?” Steve asked.

“She did, but he sort of pulled a sneak attack and before I could get myself out of it, you saved me.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that douchebag.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Do you need another one of those?” he asked, signaling to her empty beer. She nodded and the two of them walked back to the supply of alcohol. Steve grabbed a beer for her and another for himself and they cracked them together and took long sips.

“Um, Steve,” she called, getting his attention, “I don’t have a boyfriend. Just so you know.”

He nodded at her, “I know, but Billy doesn’t need to know that,” Steve grinned. She felt the need to clarify her relationship status. That had to be a good thing, right? By this point, the sky was dark and the only light was coming from the bonfire. He noticed a quick shiver run through Y/N and he knew it would only get worse as the temperature dropped.

“Are you cold?” he asked. Her face told him she was but she struggled to respond. “I’m fine,” she said.

“I don’t believe you,” he commented. He nudged his head to the right, where his car was parked, and started walking over there. She followed in his wake and as soon as he reached the car, he opened the door to the backseat and pulled out a light gray Members Only jacket. He shook it out before wrapping the jacket around her shoulders.

She considered protesting, but she was grateful for the extra layer and the smell of Steve’s cologne surrounding her.

“Thanks,” she smiled. She easily slid her arms into the sleeves, and hugged the jacket around her. Steve started back towards the group of teens when Y/N lightly grabbed his arm to stop him. He felt tingles shoot up his arm at her touch and instinctively turned around to make sure she was okay.

“Um, is there somewhere else we could go. Maybe a little more…quiet?”

“Yeah, yeah. I can, uh, I’ll show you my favorite spot.” He held out his hand and felt butterflies in his stomach when she took it and leaned in close to him.

“Sorry, it’s just been a lot of new people and I feel like I’ve been repeating myself all night.”

“No worries. I can only imagine. We don’t get a lot of outsiders here.” They walked to the edge of the lake and away from the noise of the party.

“It’s so pretty out here,” she sighed, looking out over the moonlit lake.

“Yeah it’s sort of become our spot this summer. People come to hang out on the weekend and the cops kind of turn a blind eye to it.”

“That’s awesome. We have Lake Michigan but it's nothing like this. And we definitely couldn’t drink like this out there. We usually just cram into someone’s basement, which gets old really fast.”

“I would kill to experience something like that,” Steve said, imagining growing up in the city.

She chuckled, “The grass is always greener right?”

“Do you want to leave the city?”

“Eventually. I’ve always had that dream of a house in the suburbs with the white picket fence. Just somewhere nice and safe to raise some kids.”

Steve smiled and nodded at her, having a similar goal. “I feel the same way. But I’d love to spend a few years in the city.”

“You should. It’s fun. There’s always something going on.”

“Maybe I’ll figure my life out and get there someday,” he suggested.

“You will,” she encouraged. Steve skimmed the rocky shore, searching for a flat stone that he could skip across the water.

“You ever skip rocks?” Steve asked.

She smiled and nodded, “My dad showed me when I was little.”

“I come out here to skip rocks sometimes. It helps me think.” He picked up a smooth rock and side armed it so it skimmed across the water, skipping four times. Y/N followed his lead, tossing her own rock that skipped five times, landing just past his. He looked at her with an impressed smile.

“What do you think about?” she asked.

He skipped another rock and said, “Life. Where I want to go to college. What I want to do with my life. How I’m gonna be a disappointment to my parents.” He hung his head at that last part.

She turned her gaze to him and placed a gentle hand on his arm, “Hey, you don’t know that.”

“I just don’t see any world where I’m good enough.”

“Steve,” she said gently, saddened by his words. “I don’t know you very well, but in just a few hours I can tell you succeed in anything you put your mind to. Hell, you taught me how to drive in about 20 minutes.” A small smile squeaked out. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she added.

“Spoken like a true therapist,” he joked.

“Hey, I don’t know. I might have a future in rock skipping.” She tossed another stone across the water and counted seven jumps before it sank to the bottom.

“I know, you’re embarrassing me here,” Steve skipped another stone, only landing four skips. “You probably could’ve won yourself a Care Bear.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have the opportunity to tell my friends about the cute Indiana boy who won me a teddy bear.”

Steve was blushing and fighting the smile creeping up his face. Y/N looked up at him with another smile.

“Can I ask you something?” she said, turning towards him.

“Yeah, anything.”

“Are you gonna make a move?” She asked bluntly. The beer had definitely given her a little more confidence and Steve was surprised to be called out.

“Do you want me to make a move?” he asked. He stopped looking for rocks and focused his attention on her.

“I thought I made that pretty clear,” she said, taking one step closer to him.

“Well I didn’t want to make any assumptions,” he said, moving even closer. They were inches away and he couldn’t get enough of the smell of her perfume.

“I only ask because I will make the first move, but guys don’t always take well to that.” She was looking up at him, their faces inches away.

“Those guys are morons. There is nothing sexier than a girl who goes after what she wants.”

A mischievous smile spread across her face. She grabbed the collar of his white T-shirt and pulled him slowly into her. When his mouth was millimeters away from hers, she angled her head up ever so slightly and leaned into him, her lips softly grazing his in an extremely sensual kiss. Steve could’ve sworn he imagined the whole thing. Her grip on his T-shirt was the only signal to him that this was real. Sure, he had kissed girls before, but never like this. The kiss was tender, yet filled with so much tension and yearning. He felt tingles down to his toes. She teased his lips with a quick brush of her tongue and then she carefully pulled away, much to his dismay. He kept his lips pouted and his eyes closed, hoping she would pull him back in again. After a second, he opened his eyes and saw her standing in front of him with her bottom lip nestled between her teeth. She was awaiting a verdict before she progressed any further.

“I’ve been waiting all night to do that,” he grinned like a child.

“Really?” she cooed.

He simply nodded his head and said, “From the moment I saw you. And then I talked to you and found out you’re an amazing person and I knew I was doomed.”

She blushed and smiled up at him. Her hand dropped from his shirt and Steve scooped it up into his before it brushed along her side.

“Can we do that again?” she asked.

“Absolutely.”

This time, he took the lead. He placed his free hand on her neck and leaned in close, connecting their lips with a careful urgency. He took her hand he was holding and guided it to his shoulder, so that he could place his hand on her hip. He deepened the kiss, seeking access to her pretty mouth which she granted. The second his tongue entered her mouth she let out an unconscious moan and Steve immediately felt his jeans get tighter. All the build up and sexual tension throughout the night was worth it for this very moment.

He wanted nothing more than to keep this going, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself, and she wasn’t a girl he wanted to have hurried sex with in the woods. Steve tried to slow things down, not wanting to rush into anything. And as much as he wanted to kiss her forever, he also wanted to treasure the little time he had with her and to get to know her better.

He slowly pulled away, planting small pecks on his lips as he did.

“As much as I would love to continue kissing you all night, we should slow down before I lose control of myself.”

She blushed and peered down at her shoes, before making eye contact with Steve again. She nodded, agreeing with his sentiment. He gave her another peck on the lips and ran his hand down her cheek as he said, “You are so beautiful.” They stood there for a moment, just standing in their shared bubble and baring into each other's souls.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Steve ran back to his car, and searched through his trunk, hoping to find what he was looking for. He smiled when he located his beach blanket and pulled it out of the back. He ran back to Y/N on the shore of the lake, laid out the blanket and sat down, ushering her toward him. He laid back on the blanket and guided her head to his chest. Then he pulled out his walkman and turned the volume all the way up. The music played out of his headphones but it was loud enough for the two of them to hear it.

They laid there together, looking up at the stars and making easy conversation. Steve didn’t want this night to end. He took Eddie’s advice to heart, and enjoyed the present moment, doing everything he could to commit her smell to memory. She ran easy fingers over his chest as he played with her hair, planting the occasional kiss on the top of her head.

Their bubble broke too soon, as Robin called for Y/N, letting her know their ride was there. She let out a sigh as she sat up, not wanting this moment to end.

“I think that’s my cue,” she said sadly. Steve stood and helped her onto her feet.

“Thank you Steve. This is truly a night I will remember for the rest of my life. I’m really glad I met you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug and he gripped her waist and picked her up off the group ever so slightly. As he returned her to the ground, she placed her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him with the biggest smile. He leaned in to give her a deep goodbye kiss, one that he hoped evoked all the emotions he was feeling. Their dramatic goodbye was interrupted yet again by Robin, calling out the two love birds.

“Can I, like, get your number or something?” he asked her.

She sighed and looked down, “Tonight was absolutely perfect. But I don’t want to complicate it or ruin it. If things are meant to work out between us, they will. For now, let’s just see where we end up.”

He leaned his forehead against hers in disappointment, “You’re killing me, you know that?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just not our time yet.” He knew she was right, a long distance relationship wouldn’t be enough for him. He wanted to see her every day and talk about nothing. So for now, he would look back on this night with fondness.

“Goodbye Steve. Thank you for making my trip to Hawkins memorable.” She gave his hand one tight squeeze and then she ran off to her cousin. Steve watched her go, hoping he didn’t regret not fighting harder for her. When he returned to his car, he smiled when he had to adjust the seat of his car back to its normal position. As he drove home, he replayed every minute of the night, wanting to remember every single second. He was glad he waited until the end of the night to initiate anything. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable and rush her into anything.

When he pulled into the driveway, he didn’t even feel close to tired. It was like he just left a concert, the buzz and adrenaline rush running through him as his ears were gently ringing. He kept thinking about how special she was and he sincerely hoped he would see her again. As he turned off the ignition, he reached into the back seat to grab his jacket, only to find that it wasn’t there. It registered that his jacket was still wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders when she departed. What he did feel in the backseat was a stuffed animal. He turned around and was pleasantly surprised to find Wish Bear sitting in his backseat. He let out a small laugh and shook his head, before grabbing the stuffed animal to bring inside.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

125 notes · View notes

oncomingnight · 10 months

Text

Go Go Dancer!*✩‧₊₊˚⊹♡

Yandere! Model & Yandere! Barbie Girl

Valentina Sanchez (Yandere! Model)

One of her top favorite vacation spots is Amsterdam, Netherlands. She's seriously considering moving the two of you into a home settled there. The city of Amsterdam is the greatest contrast to her life in Chicago, and she absolutely loves that. Valentina and you would go café-hopping, fawning over the local architecture, observing art pieces and going antiquing.

As I mentioned in my last post, Valentina absolutely loves cooking your favorite dishes for you. There doesn't even have to be a special occasion, she just wants to treat you at all times. Most of the time, she'll turn this into an excuse for the two of you to have a date night . How could you resist ? I mean, she already set the table and put down two plates of trofie al pesto, you simply can't say no.

Valentina's body is decorated with scattered tattoos, mainly on her fingers and arm sleeves. On your one year anniversary, she returned home with a playfully suspicious look in her eye, you leaned in to kiss her before noticing her expression, "what's got you all worked up? I was thinking today we could -"

Then, she pulled down the collar of her shirt that revealed your name written in cursive with light brown ink. "Look!" She gleamed before biting down on her bottom lip and smiling, showing off her ghostly white teeth. You thought it was adorable how excited she seemed to have gotten your name tattooed on her body. Was it a bit of an extreme gift? Yeah, but it just showed how much she loved you! She isn't expecting you to do the same in return but she'd be the happiest woman in the world if you decided to.

The two of you had the best time together that day. She took you to a michelin star restaurant and surprised you with an anniversary dessert, your name written next to hers in chocolate syrup right under the pastry on the plate. The view outside the window made the setting even more romantic, adding on to the day you were celebrating. Also, she didn't just return home with a freshly applied tattoo on her skin, she came home with tons of gifts in her arms with, an extremely soft plushie poking its head out of one of the bags along with an abnormally sized bouquet.

When she's being interviewed by a fashion journalist or a podcast host, there's nothing they can do to make her quiet up about you, her perfect angel. She could care less about conversing on the topic of what's trendy or celebrity drama, she wants to talk about you and how your love affected her in the loveliest way.

She enjoys showing you the matching intimate sets she'd bought earlier on that day for the both of you. Of course, you can dress yourself, she knows that! But nothing could fill her with the same amount of deep warmth she feels as she helps apply garters onto your supple thighs, clasping a silk floral bra onto your chest that she loves so much.

Barbara Handler (Yandere! Barbie Girl)

Barbara absolutely adores the experience of getting ready for absolutely any occasion with you. She can't help but let her eyes wander in adoration as you step into a slip dress, asking for her help in zipping it up moments later. You're the most beautiful woman in the world to her, she believes everyone should think this way. All of the moments the two of you spend together are her most cherished soon-to-be memories , the way you make her feel is something that should be bottled.

The thing that upsets her the most is seeing you in a saddened state. She immediately wants to know what caused such a reaction out of you, she'll stop at nothing to punish the person that harmed you. She'll set your head onto her chest as she caresses your hair, whispering sweet words of love. As you calm down from the rollercoaster of emotions you just experienced, Barbara goes into other areas of the house to grab your favorite things in order to ensure that you'll feel better.

When she's able to take a break off of work, she's driving the two of you to her cabin to spend an entire week with no one other than each other. To her, you're the embodiment of joy. There's nothing she loves more than being alone with you and doing daily tasks alongside you, it's the life she always wanted. During your time at the cabin, the both of you huddle up together near the fireplace as coffee brews on the stove, binge watching vintage Christmas movies whilst snow falls onto the once green grass, Barbara laying her messy head of blonde hair onto your chest as you read to her by the immensely decorated Christmas tree.

She enjoys having you in the office with her as she works and comes up with different beneficial ideas for her company. Barbara is the most hard-working woman you know and she works so she can give you the best life you could ever live. You have to remind her a lot of the time to give herself a break and get off of her work laptop.

Don't get her wrong, she enjoys having date nights out but eating dinner in the comfort of your own home seems so much more relaxing and intimate to her. I've already mentioned this before and I'm going to do it again, she's a clingy wife and even moreso when in a private space. Always having an arm on your thigh as the two of you share a night in, clinging onto you even as she sleeps, interlocking your hands and sitting you on her lap.

The two of you live an extremely quiet yet exhilarating life, residing in a gated community that's nestled in the middle of a mountainous area. She loves her little life the two of you share, waking up beside you and tracing patterns onto your skin, watching your sleeping form with droopy eyes and a fond smile.

When the two of you are getting sensual together, she enjoys filming the actions that occur between the both of you. These videotapes are never shared with anyone's eyes other than hers, she keeps the films in an extremely secretive place that only you and her have access to.

Seeing your body in pastel colored lingerie will practically stun her with both homage and lust. When she goes down on you, she'll practically forget that your body has limits and will accidentally overstimulate you. But, even after she acknowledges the fact you've orgasmed for the fifth time now, she begs you to give her just one more.

Barbara grew up watching dozens of romance films with stories of persistent love and lessons to always keep those of whom you love close to you at all times. This explains why she finds infinite joy in putting on a suave record, taking your hand in hers before taking you to the kitchen floor and slowly dancing with you , both of your bodies in sync.

On the day of your wedding, the vows she had planned months in advance, brought you to tears. She spoke about how you made her more present in life, gifting her the chance to experience pure love and true joy. As she read her three page long vows, she teared up and despite the amount of times she wiped at her watery eyes, nothing could've stopped the tears from falling. Your thumb softly rubbed under her eye then onto the apple of her cheek, resulting in her leaning into your calming touch, looking into your eyes once more as she kept speaking.

Eventually everyone crowded around the main room in the venue as it was time to bring out the cake, she gently cut a piece out for you before swiping a manicured finger through the buttercream and placing a small amount onto the tip of your nose.

You looked so darn adorable.

She couldn't be happier that you were the one in which swept her off her heeled feet.

Hello everyone, I hope you're all having an amazing day and night. I know this may not be my best work but I wanted to give you guys something :). Please never hesitate on reaching out to me or requesting.

228 notes · View notes

chicago-pd-is-weird · 1 month

Note

Its not a fanfic, but I was watching the 4 episode of the 4 season of Chicago pd...

There's this interrogation moment and the thing that gets In my head is the way Hank Voight said Baby, its soo sexy and warm that I can't stop blushing over the ideia of how will sound in a romantic or sexual moment...not to mention the bright smile in his face...

Just a random thought on this Rainy sunday..

I don't know if you want to check the episode soo you can understand what I write

Hank Voight x Fem!Reader Blurb

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like this!

Hank pushed open the door to his house, sighing as he pulled his keys from the lock and set them in the dish nearby. He shut the door behind him, finding relief from the cold Chicago winters. Shrugging off his coat, he hung it on the nearby coat rack, along with his scarf. Moving a bit further into the house, he set his badge next to his keys, keeping his service weapon on his hip, just in case. He wouldn't leave anything to chance with his gun, as always. Then, he kicked off his shoes and pushed them aside.

Truthfully, it had been a hard day. They hadn't been able to track down a pedophile they'd been hunting. Typically, that meant Hank practically lived in his office, but it had been weeks and the trail had gone cold. He hated the cases he couldn't solve, and he knew his team was feeling the same way. Morale was low, so he forced everyone home for the night, including himself. He told them to rest, although he didn't plan on resting much himself. He walked into his dining room and to the liquor he had out on display, pouring himself a hefty glass of bourbon. Then, he sank down into a chair at his dining room table, settling in and pulling out his phone.

No new texts or calls.

He hummed and set the phone on the table, sitting in silence as he sipped the bourbon. He stared at the phone, contemplating what he should do. He knew if he went to bed, he would simply lie awake, so it wasn't something he wanted to do. He sat at the table, sipping the oaky sweet liquid until it was gone. Then, he got up and refilled his glass once more.

When he moved back to the table, he sat down and looked at his phone again, sipping once more before picking up the phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he got to the name he was looking for. He didn't call often, but when he did, he meant it. He needed it.

He pressed the 'call' button, then waited for the sweet voice on the other end to answer.

"Sugar, how are you?" your voice rang from the other end.

Hank hummed, giving a small, half-hearted smile. "Baby... I would be better if you came over tonight."

"Sure, I'll be over in a little while."

When you arrived, you knocked on the door. It was a soft knock, allowing him to hear without you drawing outside attention to his house. You were his dirty little secret. Even though he only called you once every few months, you were always happy to spend the night with him. Since his wife had died, he sometimes just needed a woman to take care of him.

Hank opened the door after a short moment, allowing you to step inside before closing it. He helped you take your coat off, revealing a blouse with jeans that fit you just right. You kicked off your shoes and set them neatly beside his, then stood again to look at him. You smiled softly, kissing his cheek as he pulled you into an embrace. "Hey, baby..."

You smiled. "Hi, sugar. I'm glad you called." You'd always greeted him like this. You didn't know much about Hank Voight outside of his street representation. You knew he was a cop and you'd seen him around the city once or twice. You also knew that he knew everything about you, and when he needed a favor, you'd be inclined to help him. You'd taken to calling him 'sugar' because he was always so sweet with you, sweeter than he was with anyone else you'd seen him interact with. You always expressed how happy you were that he called, considering you also knew he liked to drink when he didn't have someone beside him.

"I'm glad you came, baby." He called you baby. Of course Hank knew your real name, and you knew his, but the two of you always called each other by these pseudonyms. It was simply just a thing you did. You didn't mind. The way the word 'baby' rolled off his tongue, in his deep voice, it made you shudder. You loved the way he spoke to you and the way he held you.

When he finally let you pull back, he didn't let you go. You could tell he was already two or three drinks in, although he held himself together pretty well. He was a lot softer when he was drinking like this, trying to make the memories of the day go away. He held you softly by the waist, humming as he looked over you.

"How have you been, sugar?" You moved your hand up to his face, stroking your thumb over the apple of his cheek. Hank shrugged and leaned into your touch. He didn't answer, but you could tell he wanted to talk about it. You pushed closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He returned your kiss by holding you closer, tilting his head to pull you in deeper, your lips moving in sync. After a blissful moment, the two of you pulled away, looking at one another. He pressed his forehead to yours, sighing softly.

"Pedophile case," he mumbled. "Couldn't catch him."

"Aw, sugar," you whispered, wrapping your hand around to the nape of his neck, stroking at the hair there softly. "I'm sorry... Those cases are always hard..."

Hank sighed softly, closing his eyes as he leaned into your every touch. "We tried for weeks... I've barely slept. We just... We couldn't get to him. He slipped through our fingers with every victim." He sighed shakily, and you could tell he was on the verge of crying.

Your heart ached for the man who was in so much pain. Losing his wife, his son, his best friend, and so many others took a toll on him. Again, he didn't call you often, but when he did, you always knew you had to come. He was dealing with too much pain, and by the time he called you, he was desperate. You let out a soft breath, kissing him again softly, then pulling back to lead him over to the nearby couch. You sat him down, straddling his lap, holding his face in your hands. He hadn't turned on many lights, so the darkness engulfed the two of you as you leaned down, kissing his lips with a sweet, soft embrace.

As he sat with you, he pulled you even closer. He didn't want to cry, but it was coming out. He pulled away, sniffling softly, his eyes wet. You pressed your forehead to his. "It's okay to cry, sugar... It's always okay to cry." He let out a soft sob, holding you tighter by your waist and back, pressing closer to you, as close as possible. "I've got you, I'm not leaving, sugar. I'm right here."

He nodded as he moved to press his head into your shoulder and neck, still crying softly. “These weeks have been so tough… I just… wanted to save them…”

“I know, sugar, I know…”

“I wanted to take them home to their families!” He sobbed, clinging to you for life, maybe a bit too hard. You knew you would come back with some bruises tomorrow, but you didn’t truly care. It had happened before, and people teased you about getting some rough sex, but you never gave in. You never told them what actually happened.

You winced silently, but clung to him as tightly as you could as well, knowing he wanted reciprocation. When you pressed into him tighter, he let go of you a bit, probably realizing how hard he was holding you.

After a few hours, Hank calmed down to a sleep, and you moved to lay him down, laying on top of him for a while. Then, you pushed yourself up when you were sure he was asleep, grabbing a blanket and casting it over his body. You leaned down and gave him a kiss, then grabbed yourself something to eat. It was nearly 4AM now, so you made sure everything was set, including his alarm for 6:45am. You locked his door and left out the back, hoping he would call you again soon, knowing he needed it.

#x reader #chicago pd #fanfiction requests #hank voight #sargent hank voight #sergeant hank voight #chicagopd #hank voight x reader

45 notes · View notes

cahootings · 1 month

Text

I do have to hand it to the city of Chicago the L is inherently romantic. Trains should always be up in the air

39 notes · View notes

gapsbetweenlovers · 2 years

Text

the way to his heart: part two

— part three

——

The evening sky gradually cloaks Chicago in a vivid hue of ripe persimmons. Dapples of sunlight dance across the uniform houses, their roofs splashed with hazy, golden rays. A breeze swirls throughout the local park and elementary school, stirring mini tornadoes of fallen leaves that skim along the tree-shaded sidewalks. The neighborhood campfires crackle with embers, sending ash and smoke toward the clouds above. It's a wistful ambience that settles into the bones of autumn dearest.

As the temperature dips into the lower fifties, the birthday celebration comes to a close. People slowly but surely leave with tinfoil-covered leftovers and sleepy children in their arms. Crepe-paper streamers and remnants of a demolished rainbow piñata are scattered on the lawn. An abundance of tissue paper and gift wrap is crumpled in a gigantic trash bag, along with disposable plates and utensils smeared with buttercream frosting. The bounce house is deflating under the setting sun, abused and glistening with moisture.

You've been carrying handfuls of decorations into the house for the past ten minutes, each time scanning the emptying kitchen for Carmen. Throughout the party, you had watched him duck in and out of the connected garage to grab food or catering supplies (which were actually moments cleverly disguised as smoke breaks), before returning to his makeshift station and serving the guests with his admirable competence.

It's not unusual for him to vanish from a situation; he's the textbook definition of the Irish Goodbye. Yet a disturbing sense of concern gnaws away at your heart. He’s brawling with demons hidden from you and everyone else, and you fear the day he spins out of control before heading straight into an deep hole.

You desperately want to fix him but getting scorched in the process is inexorable. If you trigger the tripwire, everything will misfire.

"Dad, have you seen Carmen anywhere?"

Your dad is hunched over the sink washing dishes, the faucet running so hot that steam rises toward the ceiling. The clanking of cookware, along with the dim lighting in the kitchen, puts you at ease as you check your phone while waiting for an answer. You find no messages from Carmen. The last text he sent was a week ago when he asked you about catering details. If you were to scroll further back to older texts, that's where it reaches dangerous territory. Sporadic Love you's and miss you's, too precious to be deleted. Frequent working late's and don't wait up for me's. And, your weakness, risqué send me something’s.

"Can't say that I have, kiddo," says your dad while scrubbing a pan with a tattered sponge. "He better not have left, though, because my chip dip needs some pointers. Only half of it went!"

Damn. You twist your lips nervously and begin to aimlessly check every room in the house — bathroom, living room, bedroom, even the basement. He's nowhere to be found.

Eventually, you venture outside and head toward the front of the house, where a scarce number of vehicles are still parked in the driveway and along the winding suburban road. The sounds of barking dogs and gossiping neighbors flutter around you, as does a subtle autumn chill that pokes and prickles your cheeks.

There's a familiar vehicle you easily spot, Carmen’s rusting vintage Honda Civic that you've seen him drive seldomly. Even though you aren't in a relationship with him anymore, you always offer to drive him to work, but he insists on walking through the bustling downtown streets of Chicago, where honking and rumbling engines are the city's alarm clock. You like to imagine an alternate universe where you walk alongside him as the sunrise paints the sky with shades of burnt oranges and romantic pinks. Holding hands, feeling the cold sweat of them, then kissing him goodbye before going your separate ways.

It's a life you missed out on, but you've accepted the reality that fate is beyond human reach. It's also bullshit.

From your distance across the road, you see Carmen through the translucent driver's-side window. His forehead is slumped against the steering wheel, the denim baseball cap on his head tilted wonkily, and his left hand rubs just below his collarbones. If he weren’t moving, you'd think he was dead. A lit cigarette droops from his lips, the smoldering end burning the leather material of the wheel. You sigh, equal parts relieved and trepidatious, then walk closer while tugging your cardigan tighter around your figure.

Raising your dry, reddened knuckles up to the glass, you knock twice. Carmen reacts by sucking in a lungful of air and jerking his head toward you, his eyes a particularly devastating shade of turquoise. He blinks a few times before manually rolling the screechy window down all while coughing up the smoke caught in his throat.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," you say, noticing his shaky hands when he plucks the cigarette from between his teeth and stamps it out on the dashboard. It's riddled with dozens of other dark, circular marks, and the entire car reeks of ashes and a trace of his treasured cologne. You notice leftover sandwiches wrapped and messily piled in the backseat.

It's all him, and it consumes you to the hilt.

"Sorry," Carmen replies hoarsely, taking his hat off. "Just can't really breathe right now."

"And you thought the best solution was to cloud your lungs with poisonous chemicals? With the windows closed?" you remark, trying to sound as gentle as possible. His detrimental coping mechanism is going to be the death of you. Probably him, too, in a more literal sense. God, that's morbid.

He grimaces and tilts his head back against the headrest. "I gotta go home. I gotta— I'm sorry for ditching the whole scene, but my chest started aching and I got overwhelmed."

You nod hastily, eyebrows slanted with concern. "It's okay. Hey, let me drive you to your apartment. You need a break."

"Nah, I'll be fine."

"Actually, that's the wrong answer." You open the car door and nudge his jean-clad thigh with your fist. "Scoot over. I'm driving."

Carmen, your stubborn sweetheart, stares directly at you until it becomes quite intimidating. "No," he says firmly. "How are you gonna get back?"

"The bus or whatever. Doesn't matter. Move."

"No."

"Um, yes."

"Stop worrying about me so much. I'll survive."

You touch his taut shoulder with calm reassurance and whisper, "Carmy. Please?"

The nickname used to work like a charm, and you're hoping there's a part of him that still weakens when you say it. A part that will still accept your tender loving care. Unhurriedly, he maneuvers his body over to the passenger seat. You climb in behind the wheel and regard the anxious, melancholy state of him with his wild, lion-like hair and fidgeting movements. The rigidity of his muscles is upsetting — if only he had the means to see a chiropractor. No, scratch that. A therapist could work wonders.

Leaning over the half-open console that's littered with empty cigarette packs and gum wrappers, you use your hand to rub Carmen's back. The curvature of his spine and the tight knots you feel beg for a deep tissue massage, but for now, you just soothingly knead his sore muscles in an intimate silence, hoping you're nourishing the roots of his pain, even if it's only physical.

Camren's throat bobs from a thick swallow. As his bloodshot eyes flutter shut, delicate lashes sweeping downward, you caress the hardened groove of his bicep and position your forehead onto his own. His skin is sickly warm. Breathing uneven. Heart heavy — so heavy that you can almost feel the wrenching weight. The cross he bears is nailed to his back.

"Breathe."

He listens and blows out slow, steady breaths. The slope of your nose fits under the arch of his, and your lips twitch into a smile when the pungent cigarette smoke invades your senses. Memories fly past in your brain, snapshots of tobacco kisses and wandering hands. Squeezes, nips, groans. New York thrills. Love on autopilot. Everything fast. Speeding, burning, plummeting until the inevitable crash.

Time taken for granted is a cruel thief.

"There you go," you murmur encouragingly, lips barely brushing his own. "Focus internally. Nothing outside matters right now. Just your breathing."

His body relaxes with each exhale. He's winding down, and when his eyes open again, they're spacey and locked onto your hand still resting on his bicep, your fingers splayed over his 7 7 3 tattoo.

"Feeling better?" you ask.

Carmen rolls his neck, the harmless crack making you wince. "Thank you... for that. I'm good now."

"Good." The key is already dangling from the ignition, so you turn it, the engine sputtering to life and then lowly purring. "I'm taking you somewhere. Hope you don't mind."

——

Oak Street Beach is nearly deserted at dusk.

Skyscrapers glimmer in the distance, the indigo sky reflecting off their pristine glass windows. The blur of headlights flash past with the comedown of rush hour. Ring-billed gulls screech by the Lake Michigan shoreline while devouring discarded food. Waves lap the trodden sand, washing away stranger's footsteps.

Even though the water is far too frigid to comfortably wade in this time of year, the unparalleled thing about beaches is that they are beautiful enough to simply look at.

You fall into step with Carmen at a leisurely pace, the wind whispering through your hair. Goosebumps rise over your arms and cause you to shiver, your sundress doing little to ward off the brisk weather — it probably dropped twenty degrees since noon. Nonetheless, fall is in the air, and the lush elm trees that stretch along the roadside strip of lawn are changing from their natural green to an elegant golden-yellow. They color the city, bright and bountiful.

As you plant your feet close to the shore, a warmth envelops you from behind. Turning your head, you find Carmen draping his wool jacket over your shoulders. The raw fabric instantly heats your skin, and when you put your arms through the sleeves, they sag past your fingertips. You smile softly and gaze at the water again.

Carmen stands beside you, his hands stuffed in his pockets, staring ahead with an expression of mystery. You never can tell what he's thinking about. He's a wall with chips and cracks only you can loosely decipher. For all you know, the current blankness on his face could be contentment.

"I know you like it here," you say while creating a miniature crater in the sand with the tip of your shoe.

"It's the only place where I can catch my breath," he replies, adjusting the bill of his hat.

When his brother unexpectedly died, Carmen migrated back to Chicago from New York with you trailing behind. You remember it in painful, jagged bits and pieces. There was a three-day gloom that smothered Chicago. The Beef, once alive with passion, was abandoned. A funeral with dazed humans. Carmen, guilt-ridden and irrevocably crushed. Wounded and detached. Your bleeding boy.

"Can I tell you something?" he asks, deep in thought.

You sink down onto the ground, knees bent, and Carmen does the same. Resting your cheek on your outstretched arm, you say, "Mm-hmm. Go ahead."

He sniffles, his nose slightly red from the cold, and picks at his nails. "I, um— I've been thinking about going to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Sugar has been pushing me to go for ages, and I always resisted. But now, I don't know, maybe it'll help me sort some things out. It might help me unpack my grief since I don't know what the fuck I'm feeling half the time."

Your heartbeat scampers momentarily. The word seeps into your mind and expands like ink on wet paper. Alcoholic. You think back and try to recall any warning signs. Yes, he drank and smoked in your presence, but it never reached an alarming state until everything hit. Maybe you were too blind to it and became used to the cigarettes and liquor bottles. You grieved, too. Mikey was so easy to love, and then he was suddenly gone. Drowning in distractions was the only way to steer off the course of misery. Man, it's all a blur.

One clear memory is the sad, pathetic breakup during the aftermath. Side by side on the bed, eleven p.m., no more than a few sentences spoken to each other that entire day, two hemorrhaged hearts begging to heal. When the ache grew too much to bear, you suggested time apart, and Carmen agreed at once like he was waiting for you to drop the bomb first.

And now here you both are, souls having found each other again, bruised and bandaged but on the mend despite every arrow in the flesh.

You don't even realize a single tear has escaped until your voice comes out shaky when you say, "That makes me so happy. Thank you for telling me."

He scratches his forehead with his thumb, almost seeming embarrassed by his brave and self-serving choice. "Nothing to cry over. I'm only really doing it to get my sister off my back."

"Don't say that. You're doing it because you love her. She worries about you just as much as I do — definitely more."

Carmen's lips slant with a slight smile as his eyes shift over to you. There's a rare, lovely glint in them, like when someone splits open a precious gemstone. "It's honestly a close call," he says, quietly laughing to himself.

You wipe away the wetness under your eyes using your sleeve — Carmen's sleeve, rather. The brief and familiar whiff of him you get from the fabric makes you want to cry even more. "I'm serious," you tell him. "She’s lost one brother already. It would be devastating if she lost you too."

Sometimes broaching is the only way to get him to open up. A gentle pry can lead to a glimpse inside.

"I know, I know. Can we talk about something else?"

You place your cheek on his sturdy shoulder and breathe in serenely. "Like what, Carmy?"

He's silent for a bit, nothing but the sound of waves weakly lapping the shore before he speaks again. "Don't laugh, but would you wanna come with me to the meeting?" His face twitches with a tiny wince. "Or, I guess, could you? Please?"

Laughing doesn't even cross your mind. "For moral support?" you clarify.

"Sure, yeah. Only because the thought of going by myself and sitting in a cramped room with a bunch of fucking strangers makes me nauseous." He exhales heavily. "If I had a face I knew, it would help a lot."

"Why not your sister?"

Carmen shrugs indifferently. "She's busy all the time. And talking about serious shit in front of a sibling is humiliating."

"Heard," you reply. He smirks at that. "So... you want me to go instead? May I ask why?"

He doesn't ask much of you — never has. He’s a giver by nature, and yet he doesn't believe what he gives has value.

"You're one of the only good things I have left," he admits, picking at the frayed denim of his jeans. "My brother is gone, and my job stresses me out ninety percent of the time. I don't talk to my mom or stepdad. There's Richie, but he's dealing with his own shit."

"I understand," you say. “I'll go with you. I'm glad you recognized your issues and took a big step into fixing them."

"I don't think it's possible to fix a basket case."

You study the horizon as well as his words, the sky darkening any last sight of sunlight. The air is fresh in your lungs, the sand soft beneath your palms. If you could freeze time, it'd be during this very moment. Nothing else matters. Nothing else exists.

"You're not a basket case. You’re trying your best. Life is painfully long and burdensome, yet we all try our best for the sake of merely surviving. And that's something to be proud of, as depressing as it sounds."

Carmen slides a hand down his face before stretching his arm out. "C'mere," he murmurs softly.

You happily fall into his secure embrace, letting him hold you like old times. Snuggling close, you say, "Love you. You don’t have to say it back. I just want you to know."

The love never left, truth be told. In fact, it swelled significantly with time apart. You're not one for clichés, but absence really does make the heart grow fonder. The both of you are pure, solid proof.

"I do know." He chastely kisses your temple, hovering his mouth there. "And I do love you. More than you know because I never tell you enough. I never tell anyone anything enough."

"You should work on that."

"Yeah, I should."

You turn your head to look at him, admiring his sincere and thoughtful expression that looks back at you. In your field of vision, you're close enough to count his scattered beauty marks. Trace his sculpted jawline. Memorize his boyish lips. Further down, feel the ridges and veins of his neck. Touch the scars and burns and rough callouses on his hand. He's exquisitely flawed, but that's the lure of loving someone like him so fiercely.

There's longing in his eyes when your gaze travels upwards again. So close. So familiar. If you move another inch, it'll be a cliff dive into a sea of bad decisions.

"I should drive you home now," you say above a whisper.

Carmen wets his lips, clears his throat, then strikes down your cowardliness with a confident question.

"What's the other option?"

——

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear fanfic #the bear #the bear fx #jeremy allen white

820 notes · View notes

ramblingoak · 1 year

Text

The Cardinal’s Bride, Chapter 4: There’s Something About Mary

~ A Romantic Adventure in the Old West: After being forced into a marriage with Mr. Saltarian by your father you are sent west to his estate in Nevada. Along the way you end up meeting one of the cowboys you have always fantasized about... ~

~~ Please visit The Outlaw Brides Masterpost to catch up and read more stories from this world ~~

Thank you to @tasty-ribz for the wanted poster! Lots of other amazing people have done fanart of Cowboy Copia so please go check it out: @meowsaidmissy (1 / 2), @snail-shell2335 here, @vahvco here, @ghulehgwen here, @rabidghoul here, @nocterish here and from valkyrieinpink on twitter. Also a huge thank you to @kissingghouls for aggressively holding my hand and letting me scream at her about cowboys.

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader: au, slow burn, romance, Copia in chaps, adventure, violence, Mary being a little shit, NSFW, 18+ only MDNI, 5,400 words

Mary didn’t like to think of themselves as a bad guy.

Living out here in the West was hard and not for everyone. You needed to be adaptable, willing to do things you might not be comfortable with. Mary had certainly done plenty of things they’d rather not think about, things they definitely couldn’t write home about (not that they were doing that anyway). But living out here afforded people freedoms they wouldn’t have elsewhere in the States and if there was one thing Mary liked it was the freedom to be themselves. Something they never had back home in Chicago, despite it being a larger city in the Midwest. Still full of the same stuffy, ignorant people that had a chokehold on much of the rest of the country.

Mary didn’t mind getting their hands dirty every now and then. Usually they stuck with random jobs like bringing home someone's wayward daughter (or wayward son). Every now and then they would take a job hunting down an outlaw of some sort, those usually paid pretty well. Mary never really worried too much about coming up against whatever idiot had pissed off the local sheriff enough to warrant hiring outside help. There were a lot of things Mary was good at and gunslinging was definitely one of them. It was probably the one fond memory they had of their life back in Chicago. Mary’s father had been an avid gun collector and he had been insistent on teaching Mary how to clean, handle and shoot every one he owned.

So when it came to gunfights, Mary wasn’t worried. They had only run across a few people that matched their skill and thankfully two of them stayed put in Nevada. The other was easy enough to avoid, The Cardinal and his Ghouls were never shy about their whereabouts. Mary found that their life was easier the further they stayed away from Cardinal Copia.

Mary didn’t think Copia was a bad guy exactly, certainly not as bad as his reputation would lead you to believe. But Mary and Copia tended to butt heads whenever they were around each other. It’s possible this went back to Mary allegedly staying the night with a girl Copia had favored back at The Ministry. It was also possible this had happened multiple times, but how was Mary supposed to keep track of Copia’s bedmates? Maybe if he stuck around for more than a few weeks before running off to cause trouble he’d have an easier time keeping someone’s interest.

The only thing Mary knew Copia was interested in was revenge and it was revenge against one particular person. That’s why Copia and his buddies ran amok throughout the West so much. It was why they spent so much time attacking stagecoaches and trains. For as long as Mary had known Copia they understood that the man only had one goal and that was destroying the life of who Mary was currently sitting across from.

“Mary Goore, thank you so much for coming.” Mary glanced back at the two men by the door of the office. The same two men that had tracked Mary down in California and insisted they attend a meeting with Saltarian. Normally in a situation like that Mary might’ve just shot them both and moved on, but everyone knew that Saltarian had a long reach and plenty of hired guns. Also plenty of money to hire more.

“Well I was promised some money just to show up so it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.” Saltarian chuckled, but Mary didn’t sense any humor behind it.

“Of course Mr. Goore, I’m a man of my word. You’ll be compensated for your troubles.” He continued to stare at Mary for a moment before glancing up at the men by the door and nodding his head towards them. Mary tensed when he heard them move but they left the room quickly. “Now, let’s get down to business. I’m looking for a man of your talents Mr. Goore. You have a reputation for finding wayward souls, do you not?”

“I suppose you could say that, yeah.” Mary shifted uncomfortably in their seat as Saltarian just stared at them. It was an assessing stare and it reminded Mary too much of how their father would look at them.

“No need to be modest, I’ve done my research. I had to for this job offer I have. There’s little room for error and I don’t enjoy it when people make mistakes. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying” Mary took a deep breath and wished he’d shot those two goons after all. “You gonna tell me what the job is or are you gonna wax poetic about my skills some more?” This was the wrong guy to be a smart ass too, but Mary couldn’t help it. They also couldn’t help but flinch when Saltarian straightened in his seat and narrowed his eyes at them.

Shit.

“You’re right Mr. Goore. My apologies. I’m not sure if you’ve taken the time to read any newspapers in the last month, but I recently became engaged.” Saltarian paused then and Mary mumbled a ‘congratulations’ which the man politely nodded at. He lifted a paper off his table and held it out so Mary could take it. “She’s a lovely girl from a decent family, although her father’s business skills leave much to be desired.”

Mary looked down at the paper and saw a sketch of a pretty girl, a girl that definitely deserved much better than marrying a guy like Saltarian. They looked back up as the man continued on.

“She’s from the Midwest, much like yourself, Mr. Goore.” When Mary raised an eyebrow Saltarian just smiled. “As I said, I’ve done my research.”

“Do you need me to escort her out here? Or has she already run off?” Mary flinched again and really, if there was one place Mary needed to not run their mouth in this was it. Thankfully Saltarian seemed more amused than anything.

“I do expect you to collect her, Mr. Goore. That much is true. But at this point you would be too late to collect her from her home in St. Louis.” Saltarian reached down and lifted up another paper to hold out for Mary and when they grabbed it and saw the face staring up from it Mary couldn’t stop the groan from escaping.

The Cardinal was glaring up at him from a wanted poster. Fuck.

“Has he taken an interest in your girl?” Mary wouldn’t put it past Copia, looking at the sketch of her face she was certainly his type.

“Cardinal Copia has always taken an interest in my affairs Mr. Goore, this will be no different. The man has been getting more bold in his assaults on myself and my associates. I think it’s expected he will make an attempt at kidnapping my future bride.” Saltarian took back the pictures when Mary passed them over.

“So then what’s the plan? I mean, I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but even I can’t take on The Cardinal and those Ghouls of his alone.” Saltarian didn’t respond at first, he just stood up and made his way over to a large map on the wall.

“My men will be taking the usual route from St. Louis and I expect The Cardinal to make a move somewhere in western Missouri or when they get to Kansas.” Mary watched as Saltarian traced a route along the map with his finger. The man wasn’t wrong, Mary would expect Copia to make a move around there as well.

“If I leave now I could probably intercept them when they hit Colorado.” Mary got up to stand with Saltarian at the map. The man wasn’t very intimidating physically but Mary kept a hand on their gun belt regardless.

“Ah Mr. Goore, you need to think like The Cardinal for a moment. He likes to believe he’s clever so rather than take the direct route to that casino his brother owns he’ll go south and head through Texas, New Mexico and Arizona.”

“Ok fine, but what am I supposed to do when I meet up with them? We’re not exactly friends so he ain’t gonna be very happy to see me, especially if he’s kidnapped your girl.” Saltarian smiled and made his way over to a small bar in the corner, pouring himself a glass of whiskey before he went back over to sit behind his desk. Mary stayed put and leaned against the wall. Having the door to the office at their back was not something they were comfortable with any longer.

“Once it’s decided exactly which route The Cardinal will take, my men will gather in one of the numerous abandoned mining towns that are scattered around the area and it will be your job to lead him and his Ghouls there.” Saltarian took a sip of his whiskey and then set it back down on his desk. Mary couldn’t help but notice it landed right on the picture of his bride.

“What about the girl?”

“I expect either The Cardinal will drag her along to the ambush or she’ll stay behind with one or two of his men. Either way all you have to do at that point is grab her and bring her to me.”

“Hopefully he doesn’t drag her to the ambush, I’d hate for her to get caught in some crossfire.”

“Mr. Goore I want to make one thing clear, while I’m hiring you specifically to collect my future wife, if she's between you and Cardinal Copia I expect you to take the shot.” Mary knew they probably looked like an idiot standing there with their mouth open, but that last comment was not what they expected.

“What are you going to tell this poor girl’s parents if she ends up getting hurt? Or worse?” Mary pushed off from the wall and walked over to stand in front of the desk. “Look, The Cardinal has a one track mind when it comes to you, everyone knows that, but he wouldn’t do anything to hurt an innocent girl. Or even a not so innocent one.”

“If she ends up hurt, or worse, it will be something easy to lay at Cardinal Copia’s feet.” Saltarian took another sip and gave Mary a smile that made their skin crawl. “There are plenty of pretty girls in the world, Mr. Goore, I don’t plan on wasting my time mourning this one.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The Cardinal had almost kissed you.

That was the singular thought going through your mind right now. It had started to sink in while he and this Mary person bickered. You weren’t sure how they knew each other yet, or if they were friends or enemies. Really the only thing you could think about was The Cardinal’s face as he had leaned closer to yours.

He had a surprising amount of freckles.

Ok, no you couldn’t think of those. Or of how green his one eye was and how the white one wasn’t as frightening as you thought up close. The black around his eyes had faded but you knew he usually reapplied it after breakfast. Same with the black on his upper lip. Would that have rubbed off onto yours if you had kissed each other?

What would the kiss have been like if Mary hadn’t interrupted you? Your parents barely touched let alone kiss so the few you’d seen shared between them were just quick pecks. Certainly nothing like the ones you had dreamed of between you and The Cardinal. Just thinking of some of those made your cheeks warm.

You yelped and clapped your hand over your mouth when the man you’d been thinking about suddenly squeezed your waist. Mary had an eyebrow raised at you and you didn’t need to look up into The Cardinal’s face to know he was doing the same thing. They seemed to be waiting for you to say something and you felt your blush deepen thinking back on what had been distracting you.

“I’m sorry, what?” You dug your elbow back into The Cardinal’s gut when he squeezed you again.

“No need to apologize, Darlin’. Just wanted to know your name.” When you told Mary they smiled at you and repeated it while leaning against a tree. “Well now that’s awfully pretty, don’t hear that one around these parts much.”

The Cardinal growled a little and you shivered when you felt it against your back. Something about Mary was putting him on edge and honestly you felt the same. They reminded you of some of the men that would attend business meetings with your Father at home. Men that seemed to say one thing but mean something else. Men that usually had an ulterior motive for everything they said and did. Mary was definitely hiding something and you knew that if you were picking up on it The Cardinal definitely was.

Which would probably explain all the squeezing and growling.

Why did he have to touch you so much? You tried to scoot forward a little in the saddle so your back wasn’t resting against him but his arm kept you in place. You grabbed at his hand and tried to pry his fingers off of you but they just dug in tighter and the sensation made you squeal and push back against him even more. It was your turn to growl but all he did was chuckle lowly in your ear.

“Well aren’t you two lovebirds precious!” You glared at Mary, but they just tipped their hat up and grinned at you. “Shame I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

“There wasn’t a wedding.” The Cardinal’s mouth was still close to your ear and you absolutely refused to feel anything other than annoyance as his breath tickled your skin. Mary whistled a little tune and ambled over to their horse, pulling themselves up onto the saddle with ease. They adjusted their gun belt and coat then looked back over your way, you could see the teasing glint in their eyes and you prepared yourself for another stupid comment.

“Did you have her Daddy hot on your heels? Probably didn’t take too kindly to his daughter falling for an outlaw.” Mary threw a wink your way, but you just glared at them in return.

“Non sono affari tuoi, Goore.” You could feel The Cardinal getting more and more tense against your back, it seemed less and less likely these two were friends.

“Yeah I suppose you’re right, it’s none of my business.” Mary started patting their coat pockets and eventually reached inside their coat. It was your turn to tense when the hand around your waist quickly moved to his revolver, but you both relaxed when Mary’s hand reappeared with a cigarette and a match rather than a weapon.

“What are you doing out here?” The Cardinal had moved his hand off of his gun and brought it to rest at your waist once more. You bit your lip to keep yourself from making a sound as he gave you a little squeeze. It was embarrassing how the smallest of touches from him made you feel. What was worse is Mary’s eyes seemed to pick up every little thing The Cardinal was doing to you and every little reaction you had to them.

“Oh you know, just wandering around. Looking for the odd job.” The Cardinal snorted behind you and skimmed his hand back across your stomach to hold you more firmly. He pulled on the reins with his other hand and steered Brizio back towards the prairie with Mary following not far behind.

“Last I heard you were in California, hard to believe you ran out of things to do out there.” It was Mary’s turn to tense up and you might have missed it if you hadn't been around The Cardinal and his Ghouls the last week or so. You had been getting good at picking up on their body language towards each other. “Or did you run out of people to do?”

“Aww Cardinal, are you sayin’ I’m easy?” The Cardinal snorted again and you felt him relax a bit when Mary laughed in return. “Well you aren’t far from the truth, mostly I was just bored. So I wandered a bit through Nevada, then Arizona. Was making my way through New Mexico when lucky me, I ran into you.”

“Yes, how lucky.” Now you snorted, because the deadpan voice The Cardinal used was one you hadn’t really heard from him before. Regardless of Mary’s motivations at least they were bringing out some new aspects of your Cardinal. No, not your Cardinal. The Cardinal. Where had that thought come from?

“But seriously, how’d you crazy kids meet? No offense, Sweet Cheeks, but you’re not exactly dressed for traveling on horseback.” You had made your way out of the woods and back into the prairie, but The Cardinal pulled up on the reins and stopped right at the edge. Mary stopped their horse as well, close enough you could reach out and touch them.

“What does it matter to you, Goore?” The Cardinal had tensed up again at your back, his arm around your waist tightening.

“Oh it doesn’t really, but last time I saw you there was a different pretty girl in your lap.” You flinched but you couldn’t say if it was at the thought of The Cardinal holding someone else like this or at the vicious sounding Italian word that he spit out at Mary. Unfortunately Mary didn’t seem to get the hint they should shut up so they kept prattling on, “When was that, a few months ago? Anyway, that girl you were kissing at The Ministry was a looker, you think she still works there?”

You clenched your teeth and prayed Mary would just shut up. The Cardinal wasn’t yours and you should not be jealous hearing about him with other women. Of course he had been with others! What had Sunshine said? The Cardinal had a type. The cities out here were probably full of the women he normally went for. Just another reason for you to get your head out of the clouds and stop dreaming about him.

Mary must have picked up on your souring mood because they didn’t say anything for a moment, The Cardinal was silent as well. You wished that he would just start back for camp again, you needed to put some distance between him. Having him hold you like this was making it hard to think.

“You pregnant, Sweet Cheeks?”

“Excuse me?” Your indignant question was nearly drowned out by The Cardinal’s sudden laughter. You shoved your elbow back into his gut and he groaned before muttering ‘sorry’ into your ear.

“What? I’m just trying to figure out how he landed a girl like you.” Mary put his cigarette out on the handle of one of his guns and flicked it out into the grass. You decided you’d been silent long enough during this conversation and straightened up to answer them.

“For your information The Cardinal and his Ghouls rescued me from a group of outlaws that attacked my stagecoach back in Oklahoma. They’ve agreed to take me to my original destination.” A small smile appeared on your face when you felt The Cardinal’s hand give you a little squeeze.

“Well, isn't that kind of him? Damn Cardinal, you’ve sure changed your ways since I last saw you.” Mary turned to look at you both with a devious smirk on their face, “Did you find Jesus?”

In just a few seconds The Cardinal burst into action, letting you go and reaching over to grab Mary roughly at his shoulders. You yelped and leaned over, clinging to Brizio’s neck to try and stay out of the way. Mary was trying to fight back, but The Cardinal had taken them by surprise and pulled them roughly off of their horse. You could hear Mary groaning as soon as they landed on the ground.

The Cardinal straightened back up behind you and slipped both of his hands around your waist to pull you back against him. In the next moment he had gripped Brizio’s reins and spurred the horse into action, taking off back across the prairie towards camp. When his arm went back around your waist you couldn’t help but hold onto it with your hands, but soon you had to bring one back up to cover your mouth.

Laughter had started to bubble out of you and it wasn’t long before The Cardinal joined in. You assumed Mary would be getting up to follow you shortly and it wasn’t long before you could hear hoofbeats getting closer behind you. The Cardinal didn’t seem concerned, he just continued to steer Brizio closer to camp. You were curious as to how the Ghouls would react to Mary’s presence, hopefully they got along better with Mary than The Cardinal did.

Judging by Dewdrop’s shouting as you came back to camp you were wrong.

“What in the fuck are they doing here?”

“Aww I missed you too Dewdrop.” Mountain held an arm out and stopped the smaller man from launching at Mary. “Sunshine, my queen! You’re looking as beautiful as ever!”

It was Aether that stopped Sunshine, Swiss stepping in to lend a hand when she was still able to make progress towards Mary.

“Mary won’t be staying long. Sunshine!” She had managed to shove Swiss away and pull one of her knives out but stopped after The Cardinal shouted at her. Mary definitely wasn’t helping things, they had gotten off their horse and started blowing kisses Sunshine’s way. She took a few steps towards them again but The Cardinal said something in Italian causing her to growl and spin away to stalk off towards the woods, Dewdrop hot on her heels.

You felt his hands squeeze your waist briefly before he swung off of Brizio. He took a moment to watch Mary interact with Aether before turning and holding his hands up for you to take. You tried to be elegant about it but there wasn’t much you could do with how big your skirts were. He moved his hands to your waist and you settled yours on his shoulders as he practically lifted you off and onto the ground next to him.

For a moment it felt like you were both in your own little world, his hands were still gently holding you and he had you boxed in between him and Brizio. You glanced around briefly but it seemed like everyone else was preoccupied with Mary’s arrival. When he reached a hand up to tuck some of your hair back behind your ear you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed for a moment.

“That was quick thinking back there, Principessa,” You opened your eyes to look up at him and he gave you a small smile. “I’m impressed.”

You shrugged and looked back down to the ground, “It didn’t seem like you trusted them, so I figured I shouldn’t tell them the truth.”

“Which is what?” He brought a hand up to your chin and gently tilted your head back up so he could meet your gaze.

“That you’ve kidnapped me and you’re holding me for ransom.” The Cardinal chuckled briefly before letting you go and taking a step back.

“Ah yes, that.” You saw him flex his hand briefly and he glanced back towards camp for a moment before continuing, “Be careful around Mary. Stay close.”

“So you and Mary aren’t friends.” He chuckled again and shook his head.

“Mary would be friends with anyone for the right price.”

“Aww Cardinal, that hurts my feelings.” In an instant The Cardinal had grabbed your hand and yanked you behind him. You couldn’t help but let out a small yelp as he tightly squeezed your hand in his.

“Satan’s dick, Goore.” He made a move towards Mary but they immediately held their hands up and walked back towards camp. When Mary was out of earshot The Cardinal turned and started to let go of your hand, but he stopped when he saw you wince. “Ah, Principessa. Mi dispiace, are you ok?”

You nodded but couldn’t help but wince again when he brought your hand up and held it against his chest. “It’s ok Cardinal, I’m fine.” Your mouth fell open when he pulled your hand up further and placed a quick kiss on the back before dropping it and nodding his head towards camp.

“Bene, let’s go get some breakfast, eh?” He turned and started making his way towards the others, but for a moment you were frozen in place. The feeling of his lips against your skin was still there like a brand. You looked down at your hand almost expecting to see a mark, but there was nothing. A whistle made you look up to see him waiting for you with a familiar smirk on his face.

The bastard knew what he was doing.

Despite Mary’s presence, breakfast was relatively uneventful. They made small talk with Aether and Swiss but most everyone else was quiet. The Cardinal didn’t eat much and you couldn’t bring yourself to eat much either. Having Mary here was making you more and more nervous as the morning stretched on. Maybe The Cardinal was rubbing off on you, but it was a feeling you couldn’t shake.

It was obvious you weren’t the only ones who were suspicious of Mary’s motives. Dewdrop and Sunshine had wandered back over but all they had done was glare at Mary. Sunshine had dropped another knife into your lap and you gave her a soft smile before shoving it into your pocket with the other one. You weren’t sure you’d be able to use them if the need arose, but if she felt like you needed them you weren’t going to say no.

As breakfast wound down Mary pulled out another cigarette and you couldn’t help but sigh. How long were they planning on sticking around? You hated how on edge everyone was and you couldn’t help but worry that Mary was here to take you to Saltarian. It would be near impossible for them to take down The Cardinal and his Ghouls but you didn’t want to see anyone hurt. Even Dewdrop had grown on you a little bit despite the fact that he still growled at you if you got too close to him.

“So Sweet Cheeks, where did you say you were headed again?”

“She didn’t.” Mary smiled around their cigarette at The Cardinal’s response, not even looking his way and keeping their eyes on you.

“Right, right. Well I was just thinking that I could take her wherever she’s headed. Save you all the hassle of babysitting.”

“That’s not going to happen, Goore.” The Cardinal stood up and stalked over to Mary before continuing, “It’s time for you to go.”

“Ok, ok. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Mary flicked their cigarette into the dying fire and stood up. “Oh and just a warning, I’d be careful if you’re heading west.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Ran across some of Saltarian’s goons setting up shop in an empty mining town about an hour from here.” You and everyone else in the camp froze at Mary’s words. It didn’t take long for The Cardinal to burst into action though, he closed the distance between him and Mary and clenched his fists in the front of Mary’s coat.

“Stronzo! You didn’t think this was something you should’ve shared earlier?” Mary laughed and that just enraged The Cardinal more. Aether and Mountain rushed over to try and separate them, but everyone else had their hands on their weapons and were staying put.

“I didn’t think it mattered! You were the one being cagey about where you were going.” Mary stumbled backwards as The Cardinal shoved him away. You watched as he stood there seething over what Mary had hidden from him. What they had hidden from all of you. When you looked down at your hands you found they were shaking.

Was this it? Was this where you were to be rescued and taken on to Saltarian? You clenched your fists and took a few deep breaths to try and stay calm. This should be something you wanted, you should want to be rescued. To find your way safely to your future husband and away from the hands of these outlaws.

You closed your eyes and took another steadying breath and then looked back over to The Cardinal. He had turned away from Mary, leaving Aether and Mountain to keep an eye on them. The Cardinal was looking right at you, his mismatched eyes capturing your gaze and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. All you could think about was how it felt when he touched you, how it felt when he had kissed your hand. His gaze wasn’t wavering and you found yourself thinking of one more thing…

You didn’t want to go.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Copia had known they were heading into a trap.

It had been obvious and it pissed him off to no end. Mary had a terrible poker face and Copia knew from the minute they had stumbled upon him in the woods it wasn’t an accident. What Copia didn’t know yet was why Mary had led them into the trap to begin with. It was too early for word of the ransom to get to Saltarian, to get to anyone really. Rain and Mountain had hired someone to take the note directly to the bastard’s home in Nevada and there was no way they were there by now.

So what was Mary’s game here? It wasn’t like them to come up with schemes like this on their own, the only thing that motivated Mary was money. A lot of money. Copia had spent most of the morning trying to sort out who might’ve been the one to hire Goore and whoever else had been waiting in this damned ghost town. It wasn’t really something that mattered in the grand scheme of things, but focusing on it helped keep Copia’s mind off of you.

He shouldn’t have tried to kiss you.

He really had no excuse. Or at least he was trying to convince himself he had no excuse. Things had definitely felt different now that he knew you weren’t marrying Saltarian by choice. Finding that out had motivated him to tell you of his own reasoning behind his actions. Copia wasn’t one to open up about anything, to anyone. Yet that night by the campfire found him telling you things he’d never shared with anyone before.

There was just something about you he couldn’t shake. Maybe it was how even when he knew you had been scared out of your mind you still didn’t back down. How you hadn’t hesitated to come after him when his teasing had gone too far. Or go after anyone else for that matter, Dewdrop was still whining about the bite you had given him. But Copia had to be honest with himself and admit that from the moment he had met your eyes as he rode up on the stagecoach he had felt something.

That feeling was coursing through his veins as the bullets hit the overturned wagon he was hiding behind. He had to get out of here, he had to get his friends out of here. Copia refused to be taken out in this shit hole because of whatever dumb fucking deal Mary had made. He was so close to finishing what he had started years ago. To what Saltarian had started. This wasn’t going to be how things ended for him.

Copia looked back towards the road they came in on when he heard hoofbeats racing off and was met with the sight of Mary heading back the way they came. Copia growled and took a moment to collect himself. He thought back to his days in the abbey, to his days when he was an actual Cardinal. A prayer to Lucifer started to fall from his lips as he reloaded his guns with the last of his bullets and he took a steadying breath. He wasn’t going to let Mary take you.

He wasn’t going to let you go.

Go to Chapter 5: Copia

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#my fics #my writing #the cardinal's bride #cowboy copia #Cardinal copia x female reader #copia x female reader #cardinal copia fanfiction #copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #cardinal copia #copia

240 notes · View notes