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#she dated you and she ditched you for a single date with a*** for the 8th grade formal
kohakhearts · 7 months
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anyone else think theres some kinda bizarre love triangle going on between the player and the dlc siblings cause thats all i took away from it lmao. cant wait for part 2 so i can take carmine on a true american date
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geffenrecords · 1 year
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theydid not lie that misgend3ring does slowly kill you overtime
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gargoyleprincess · 16 days
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Not surprised that my ex is still a piece of shit but I am happy that he hasn’t beaten anyone else, hope he learns how to treat women w honesty and respect
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month
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Okay but what about König falling for a single mother? Like, he didn't knew she was a mother at first, but he is too infatuated now to drop her. May even think about fucking her raw to give the child a lil sis/bro to play around and leave them both some free time
Konig and mother darling! Milfs!! Konig hates kids. They are noisy and smelly, they are completely unable to live on their own, and they ruin his perfectly established life. No, his hatred for kids isn't connected to the fact that he is a bit of a manchild himself!! His lego sets and anime figures are too precious to have a kid lay their grabby hands on. Konig believes that he hates kids - and then he meets you. Sweet you, caring you, living right next door you. You're mature and beautiful and you always have time to get him some home-made cookies and give him another round of mommy issues. You're always tired and he hates seeing you like this - whenever you two meet randomly at the cafe you work at, you'd be just so exhausted, he wants to blow this place up and give you need break. You talk a lot - exchanged numbers even, although you reluctantly said that you really isn't open to dating right now. Konig aknowledged this and respectfully jerks off to your social media posts. Then you introduce the kid to him. Kid is...nice. Kinda. Maybe it's Konig's horninees for the baby's mother talking, but the little brat is actually somewhat tolerable. You look even more tired in the presence of an elementary schooler, but you beg Konig to just take the child for a few hours because the nanny just ditched you, and you had a dinner rush in a few minutes. Konig accepts because he doesn't like to tell cute girls no, and also because the kid looks polite. Like a little dog, maybe. Konig knows he is down bad for you because even as the baby starts to eat his lego builds and play with his guns, he is still fine with having it here. Konig knows he loves you too fucking much because he orders food for baby, he turns on some dumb cartoons on the TV for the child and even textx you each 15 minutes to tell that the brat is alright, and not just to send you dick pics. Konig might be a bit too sociopathic to actually connect with your kid, but he starts to think about moving you and the baby somewhere to the countryside, where you won't have to work on anything but pleasing him. he starts to think how would you look pregnant. How would you look after taking care of their babies. If he squints, he can kinda imagine that the current brat looks like him. Hm. Perhaps, Konig can work on a little agreement on how to 100% make you say yes to his offer.
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sp0o0kylights · 1 month
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"Valentines Day is a capitalistic scam made to sell chocolate and flowers!" Eddie Munson bellowed, leaping to the top of a cafeteria table not even ten minutes into lunch. 
"Do you think he was born like this, or just dropped on his head as a baby?" Heather asked, rolling her eyes as the super senior began waving his arms around, getting way too into  his annual “anti-valentines day” rant. 
Steve, who'd tuned out the dramatics in favor of trying to figure out how he could ditch school, only heard her because she’d begun running her foot up his leg.
Directly in front of Patrick.
As if half the school didn’t know he planned on asking her out after school. 
Long over being a part of these kinds of games, Steve kicked out, forcing Heather’s leg off his. 
He did it harder than he intended and immediately winced, as  if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. Aimed a sad little look at her, softening his eyes in the way he knew ladies loved while murmuring a quiet "sorry.” 
A pudding cup was offered as an additional apology--which Heather, thankfully, accepted. 
Crisis averted, Steve used the movement of handing the cup over to get his legs well out of Heather's range. He had other things to think about today, and getting drawn into whatever drama Heather was trying to brew wasn’t on the list. 
Particularly given the basketball team as a unit had started snubbing him out. 
"Newsflash ladies! Your man isn't taking you to some shitty restaurant because he loves you, he's doing it because he hopes you'll give it to him in your car!" Munson continued, voice growing impossibly louder. 
A crude gesture followed, involving hip thrusts and hand jabs.
 Several of the cheerleaders shot him disgusted looks as he did it. 
"Definitely dropped on his head." Carol said, glaring at Munson as his little group of freaks and geeks cheered him. "More than once." 
Steve hummed an agreement, more on automatic than from actually listening. He knew how to look like he was paying attention, even if his head was deep in possible escape plans. 
If he dipped at the last minute to the bathroom on the way to fifth period, Tommy wouldn't have time to stop him and he could make a break for his car…
That just left making up a plausible enough excuse as to why thee Steve Harrington, whose single status was the current hot topic of the school, left school early on Valentines Day. 
("Candy, sex, the overwhelming affection of all the ladies." Tommy drawled out that morning, practically preening. "Valentine's Day is the best holiday man. Just look at all this!"  
He waved a hand at his locker, which was absolutely covered in paper hearts. 
"The rally squad put hearts on the lockers of everyone on the basketball team, Tommy." Carol argued, rolling her eyes. "Steve’s is practically buried in them.”
Tommy opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something else teasing and rude, but Carol’s elbow caught him in the gut first. 
“If you keep acting like this you're not getting any sex." She warned. 
"Aww baby, don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me." Tommy teased, with a wink that prompted Carol to smack him on the shoulder.
Laughing, he added: "Besides we can't fight or we'll miss our favorite game. Which poor gal thinks this year is the year Steve will take her out on a date!"
Carol allowed Tommy to put an arm over her shoulder, the two of them turning knowing grins on their friend as a singular unit. 
Even if Steve hadn’t felt like their friend in a hot minute. 
Not in the way he used to. 
"I do love watching them stutter through their little confessions.” Carol admitted, like this wasn’t something they’d loved doing since middle school. “I wonder if anyone will ever top Cindy Komer." 
Steve almost wasn't fast enough to cover his wince--that particular incident had been painful for him and Cindy. 
Steve still had no idea what he'd said to make the then-freshman cry. 
He thought he'd been nice about turning her down, but judging by Carol constantly quoting what he'd said, Steve had a feeling he'd accidentally been an asshole again.
Not that anyone ever thought it was accidental. 
“Steve? Hel~lo? Are you listening?” Carol said, snapping to get his attention and God did Steve hate that.
Never realized just how much until Nancy but after she’d pointed out that Carol treated him and Tommy both like her dogs, well. 
It was hard not to notice--and be a bit resentful. 
“God you keep doing this, you’re turning into such a space case.” Carol continued, the edge back in her voice. The same one she’d been using for a while, like Steve was on her last nerve. “Please tell me you’re not still mooning over Nancy fucking Wheeler.” 
“No.” He snapped, only to know instantly that was the wrong move, and try to fix it before Carol blew up. “No--I’ve just already had to fend someone off today. Like first thing--I was barely out of my car.”
There, that should keep Carol and Tommy both off his back for being “angry” and it wasn’t even a lie. He really had been asked out earlier, though the girl had been gracious about his rejection.  
Of course, this kind of instant redirection came with a price--and in this case, it was being absolutely hounded for more information. 
“Oh shit who!? Was it that Buckley girl?” Carol perked up immediately, like a hunting dog scenting prey. “I swear she stares holes in your head, she’s so weird…” )  
"This isn't about romance! It's about showing who has the most cash, gets the most sex! It's a pathetic social ritual you're all falling for!” Munson yelled, jolting Steve back into the present.  “I bet none of you even enjoy it!” 
"Tell that to all the girls Steve’s dated!” One of the younger basketball guys hollered, prompting a wave of laughter from the rest of the cafeteria. “They seem to enjoy it plenty!”
Steve couldn’t see who had said it, and should have felt the normal wave of smug warmth that the team had his back.  
Except his team had already proven they didn’t. 
Were in fact, siding more and more with Hargrove, just as Tommy was. 
They were rapidly approaching a watershed moment. Steve could feel it, the same way he’d always been able to tell when a crowd was about to turn.
He was losing, but was still on top of Hawkins social spaces enough, had caught it early enough, that he could turn everyone’s favor--if he wanted. 
Emphasis on ‘if.’ 
Munson spun to face his table, hair whipping to smack him in the face. The guy had clearly been trying to grow it out, but right now he looked like one of those poodles Carol's mom loved so much. 
So said Carol, anyway. 
"You sure about that?" Munson challenged, a crazed grin breaking across his face. "Rumor has it King Steve lost his groove ever since Wheeler dumped him!" 
Steve grimaced, though he was secretly thankful Munson went with "dumped" instead of "cheated on" (or any of the other vile words Billy had flung around, spreading across the school in the sick, crawling way rumors moved. 
Hargrove had been positively brutal about the whole Jonathan and Nancy thing, and the only reason he wasn't here now to spin this whole situation against Steve was because the guy always vanished at lunch.)
Tommy's face morphed into an affronted snarl, hands slapping down on the table. He turned expectantly to Steve, waiting for "The King" to get up and "handle" Munson.
Like Steve even cared about this dumb high school shit anymore. 
It took him a moment to realize Steve wasn’t planning on doing anything. Was in fact, going to remain perfectly quiet, other than an eyeroll and half-assed middle finger in Munson’s direction. 
Tommy let out a disgusted scoff in his direction and then decided to handle things himself. 
(Like that had ever been a good idea.)
“Shut up, Freak. The only game you have is in the prison showers.” He snapped, half rising from the table. “Isn’t that why you keep your hair long? So all the boys will actually fuck you?!” 
Whistles and yells lit the air, though Steve didn’t miss how the girls at the table looked taken aback at the sheer vitriol in Tommy’s voice. 
Even Carol looked startled, eyes sliding to meet Steve’s as if to confirm she hadn’t just imagined it. 
The three of them had always been good at this kind of mindless high school banter, but this over the top, crude shit? 
It wasn’t Tommy’s style.
It was Hargrove’s.
(That was its own growing issue. 
The way Tommy was gravitating towards Billy. 
How Carol kept expecting Steve to act like he used to. 
That she blamed his “outbursts” on Nancy, snidely mentioning that Steve had better have learned his lesson about “changing his personality for pussy.” 
Even now Steve knew they were only defending him because Munson was the one saying it.) 
“I didn’t realize Harrington still had his attack dog!” 
Munson put a hand against his heart as though injured, staggering dramatically backwards. 
“I thought you were too busy putting your tongue up Hargrove’s ass to bark at people!” 
Tommy immediately fired back, letting loose an uninspired string of curse words and something about Eddie being queer again. Steve didn’t hear the specifics--didn’t care to hear it, even as things started to spiral out of control. 
All he wanted to do was go home. 
Ideally before Billy got back from lunch and decided to make a spectacle himself, because Steve could feel that coming just as he could everything else. 
He was running out of time to come up with an excuse to get out of here without making a production out of it, and Munson wasn’t someone he wanted to piss off today, given he’d half hoped to buy weed off the guy before he ditched.
…Which was looking more and more unlikely given Tommy had just screeched some insult that had put Munson’s sights back on Steve. 
“You sure? Cause Harrington looks like he’s just gonna sit there and take it, just like he takes everything Hargrove and Wheeler and anyone else throws at him.”
He leered, leaning forward as if to see into Steve’s very soul. 
“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but our beloved King here hasn’t exactly been defending his crown. If anything, he’s abandoned it.” 
The world stopped. 
This was the first time someone actually called him out on the fact that he often let whatever crap Billy spewed go. That Nancy and him had a few awkward encounters publicly, with at least one of them starting a rumor that she’d told Steve to fuck off. 
(She hadn’t of course, but Carol had stopped running damage control, and Steve was feeling the effects of her ire.) 
Silence echoed, and Steve realized with a dawning sort of horror, that Munson was waiting for a response from him. 
Just as the entire cafeteria was. 
The catalyst was here, brought on early by one Edward Munson. 
With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done. 
With his so called friends, with  the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything. 
He was over it. 
If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it. 
(If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.) 
“This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it. 
He stood, feeling the weight of the room press down on him as he faced them all down. 
“Yeah--!” Tommy started to pile on, seeming to think Steve was about to unleash hell, and got the surprise of a lifetime when Steve turned and jammed a finger in his face.
“Shut up.” He snapped. 
Knew instantly he only got away with it by the fact that he’d caught everyone off guard.  
King Steve did a lot of things, but he rarely blew up. 
“This is stupid.” He reiterated, voice booming across the lunch room, “ You wanna fight? Fine, but leave me out of it.”  
“The King doesn’t want to play? Why I never thought we’d see the day!” Munson clucked his tongue, and without missing a beat Steve turned to him. 
 “For someone who is always screaming about nonconformity, you sure are happy to attack anyone who doesn’t do what you want.”
Steve’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t yelling or throwing his arms around.
He didn’t need to. Had never needed to. 
“I heard you going off on that guy whose lunch you're standing on yesterday, because he wanted to watch the Colts play.” Steve continued, voice cold. “Half of your friends are terrified of you, because you’ll scream at them just like you accuse us of doing--and let’s be real here, Munson, you do it more.”
In a dramatic move that absolutely, 100% came from Dustin and his theatrics, Steve shrugged his letterman jacket off and bunched it into a ball. 
“You might as well crown yourself King, because you’re the exact same as the rest of us. Here--you can start with this.”  
Cocking back an arm, Steve let the jacket fly. Watched with everyone else as it  landed neatly right at Eddie’s feet. 
Shell shocked, Munson’s eyes drifted from Steve down to the letterman jacket and back. They were massive, those stupid eyes of his, but at least it meant Steve could see the realization wash over the guy in real time. 
Steve should have felt smug about it. His past self would have.
Presently? 
He just felt tired. 
“You’re welcome to jam it up your ass.” He finished, before giving his own sarcastic half bow to the room.  
The cafeteria was dead silent. Not a fork was scraped, or a loud piece of chip chewed. All eyes were on Steve, some waiting to see if Eddie would let him have the last word, others just  shocked to see Steve lose his shit in front of them. 
Idiot he was, he tried to rally anyway. 
Even Tommy, who’d partly stood up, hands pressed against the lunch table looked shocked.
“What the fuck Steve!?” He sputtered, and it wasn’t long before half the basketball team was muttering similar remarks. 
They were ignored. 
Whispers ripped across the room when Steve turned on his heel, striding towards the exit and making it clear things were over, but Tommy didn’t give up. 
“Fuck you Harrington!” He hurled at his back, Carol now standing and placing a restraining hand on his arm.  “You’re not fucking better than any of us!” 
Steve didn’t even look back. 
"That's my point Tommy." Steve said, loud enough to be heard. "No one is better than anyone else. You lot are all just buying into your own bullshit.” 
Then he was slamming through the doors, and out into the sunlight. 
xXx
He didn’t want to go home.
Not anymore, which was ironic in a way that made Steve’s face screw up in a grimace.  
Here he’d been dying to go to his stupid house all day, and now, after losing his shit and undoubtedly, the last of his social standing, he just didn’t feel like being by himself.
All alone, in a house too big for him, full of nothing but dark corners and a phone that never rang. 
So instead, he wandered, reminiscing on how Valentine's Day used to be his favorite day of the year. 
Steve loved the gesture of it all--the romance, the wooing. The butterflies floating in one's stomach, mixing with fear of rejection and a burning kind of hope towards starting something new. 
Of course, Steve also had always had a girl in mind, when he celebrated. Now, after Nancy…
He did not.
It felt weird to go to Skull Rock--the place he himself had made into Hawkins hottest makeout spots. Likewise all the local restaurants were off limits--too many adults knew how much he loved the holiday. 
Steve didn’t want to face that. The expectations, the knowing winks that would slide into uncomfortable frowns. Any possible advice given wouldn’t be appreciated, and the last thing Steve wanted was to get the “everyone has an off season, son” speech. 
So he’d stayed away from his usual haunts. Explored some storefronts instead, the Beamer parked in front of Family Video as he wandered. 
Had an entirely too peaceful two hours, which of course, meant he had to bump into someone.
At least, Steve thought dully, whole body tensing in preparation, it was Munson. 
Not Hargrove, or Tommy, or hell--the children, demanding he help them fight some other fucked up creature the government had accidentally summoned. 
“Hey Harrington.” Munson said, and it took a moment for Steve to realize the guy was embarrassed. “I uh, I need to talk to you.” 
Steve just stared at him.
“If you couldn’t tell from earlier,” He warned, “I’m a little done talking for today.” 
Or any day, for the foreseeable future. 
“Yeah no--I, I got that.  I--okay.” Eddie stopped rocking on his heels, before giving his entire body a shake, like the guys sometimes did while prepping for a game. “Hear me out, and then you can deck me or leave or whatever makes you feel better.” 
“I’m not going to deck you.” Steve said, exasperated and frazzled and not wanting to do this whole song and dance a second time. 
Not that it mattered, because Munson had already launched right into whatever it was he needed to say. 
“There’s this book right? My Uncle got it for me. It’s a fantasy book all about this big battle and there’s these wizards in it, and--” He stopped himself, shaking out his hands.
Like he realized he was rambling and needed the movement to get himself back on track. 
“I always--I guess I saw myself as a Gandalf kinda guy? Like I was this shepherd herding these lost sheep. A person who intimately knew all the dark forces of the world and could be a shield for them. Do not pass and all that.” 
He chuckled, but it was weak, and he killed it almost immediately. 
“...Okay?” Steve said, knowing he was supposed to say something here, even if he had no idea what. 
Maybe something about how Gandalf the Grey wasn’t exactly a shepard given he’d led the hobbits straight into Mordor, but saying that meant admitting Steve knew what Lord of the Rings was, which wasn’t a conversation he felt like getting into. 
Particularly not because he’d only read the damn things after losing a bet to Dustin and Mike both. 
Munson nodded, as if acknowledgement was all he needed. 
 “I thought that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t and I didn’t realize I wasn’t until you pointed it out. You shouldn’t have had to point it out. You shouldn’t have had to say any of what you did.” He rushed to add, oddly sincere. 
"Is this…" Steve might be confused but catching on, an uptick at the corners of his mouth as the tiniest spark of amusement leaked through. "an apology? Are you trying to apologize right now?"
Eddie groaned, flinging his head back. "No!” 
Then immediately; 
“Actually yes, but--”  
Which caught Steve off guard enough that he laughed, and had to hide it with a cough. 
“I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that shit about you, especially not about you and Wheeler. It's more than that though.” Munson swallowed, before squaring his shoulders. “It’s that you were right." 
“I was right?” Steve repeated dumbly, because fuck, he couldn’t believe it either. 
Not that Munson heard him. Eddie always had been hard to stop once he started, and Steve had been in enough classes with the guy to know the train had left the station. 
"I did yell at Jeff because he wanted to watch that stupid football game.” He began, and Steve got a front row seat to watch as one Eddie Munson word vomited his way through a myriad of emotions. 
“I fuckin’ lost it on Grant because he missed band practice to drive his sister to some thing. Gareth looked like I was going to hit him when I asked if I had really been that bad--same exact look he gave Hagan and those other assholes that cornered him in the bathroom two weeks ago!” 
“Tommy did what?” 
Steve was promptly ignored. 
(Or more likely, Eddie simply didn’t hear him, too lost in his own voice to realize Steve had said something.) 
There were a lot of mentions of the Gandalf guy. Where Eddie thought he’d gone wrong, and even something about a glowing eye thing that had Steve a little concerned until he realized Munson was talking about Sauron (and also made Steve realize that he’d been pronouncing Sauron in his head wrong, oops.) 
“I called up this friend of mine who graduated. She’s always been no nonsense, so I asked her for her advice.” Munson said, finally seeming to slow down a little. “She told me I might as well eat my own doctrine because I sure wasn’t living by it, and that if I wanted to fix it then I should start by apologizing. To everyone but--to you, first.” 
Eddie took a step back, winging out his hands as if to present himself. 
“So here I am. Apologizing.” 
A pause wherein neither of them did a thing, which caused him to awkwardly add; “To uh, you. Harrington.” 
“Yeah I got that.” Steve said, because what else was he supposed to do here? “Good for you? I guess?”
“Most people either forgive a guy or tell him to fuck off.”  Munson pouted, and mimicked like he was kicking at a rock. 
It made Steve want to laugh again, though he shoved the urge down. 
“Someone once told me,” He said instead, speaking slowly to make damn sure he didn’t let slip this piece of advice came from a middle schooler. “that apologies without actions don’t really mean anything. They’re a start--they let people know you’re aware you screwed up, but no one’s going to trust you if you don’t follow through. So I can forgive you, but I think you’re better off doing this with one of your friends.” 
Someone who would hug it out, or at least tell Eddie how he could be better, at least. 
Rather than argue, Munson just titled his head back, eyes to the sky. Like he was really thinking on the words, before giving a sort of accepting sounding noise.  
“Trying too.” Steve admitted with a sigh. 
“That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” He asked, head coming back down so he could stare at Steve.
“The thing in the cafeteria was a good start.” 
“Yeah?” 
Eddie grinned. 
“Yeah. Don’t think Hagan’s gonna see it the same way though.” 
“We were falling out anyway.” Steve admitted, and hated how easy it was to say.
That they really were just going through the motions of friendship. Had been, ever since Jonathan had punched Steve in the face. 
“Think you lost more than just him as a friend, to be honest.”  
“Pro tip about the actions thing, Munson?” Steve said with a snort, once again unsure of where this conversation was going, “Nice people don’t typically point out when someone’s turned into a social pariah.” 
“No, I get that. Say,” Eddie’s grin had grown, which Steve would have taken poorly except he invaded Steve’s space with a goofy little hop. “I think you might be in need of some new ones!” 
“New…friends?” Steve hesitated, very unsure of what was happening. 
Munson promptly stuck his hand out. “Yup! So--hello, my name is Eddie Munson, and I am here to apply for the position as your friend!” 
Steve snorted, but the harshness of it was taken away by the grin on his face. 
He took Eddie’s hand, noting how doing so made the older teen’s smile widen. 
“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.” 
Excited, Eddie waived their arms up and down, with far more enthusiasm than the gesture required. 
“How about we cement our new friendship by renting a truly terrible horror movie and drowning our woes with my other good friend, Mary Jane?” 
Then he waggled his eyebrows, like that was something scandalous. 
“Tempting me along with weed, huh?” Steve mused back, sticking his hands in his pockets once Eddie let him go. “Guess you’re a little like Gandalf the Gray after all. Just don’t send me on any missions.” 
“Steve Harrington.” Eddie gaped, pure delight spreading across his face. “Have you read Lord of the Rings!?” 
He got a shrug and a sly; “Maybe.” in response. 
It was worth the barrage of questions, even if the rapid fire pace of them nearly gave Steve a headache.
(Just as it was worth it several months later, when Steve was comfortable enough to instigate wrestling matches with Eddie over the dumbest of things. 
One particularly semi-drunk tussle over the remote led to an interesting discovery when Eddie popped a boner, and then frantically tried to escape when it brushed against Steve’s leg. 
 Instead of panicking--or letting Eddie bolt in his panic, Steve just dropped his whole weight down, effectively pinning the slimmer man to the floor. 
“Steve.”
Eddie said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear it, the word filled with desperation.
The kind of tone someone whispered a prayer in, a sort of pleading that Eddie did better with his eyes than his voice. Or would have, given his own were firmly scrunched closed the second he realized he’d been caught out. 
Except--
“Not right now I’m thinking.”  Steve told him absently. 
Which he was. Speed thinking even, if that was a thing. 
Because if two plus two equaled four (which it did) then feeling the exact same, fluttering excitement about Eddie’s boner as Steve had Nancy’s breasts, equaled…
“The fuck? Steve--”
Steve shushed him. 
That pulled a frustrated, embarrassed groan from Eddie that went directly to Steve’s own dick, not that it needed much help waking up. 
“I think I’m having one of those crisis’s Robin is always accusing the basketball team of having.” Steve informed Eddie dutifully, the dots done connecting.
Eddie, still refusing to open his eyes, snorted. 
“Whatever man. Can you at least be decent and hurry up with the beating? This is embarrassing enough.” 
“I’m not going to beat you up.” Steve said, thankful that his brain managed not to add some shitty comment about the entire town being awash in rumors of Eddie’s sexuality. That he’d confirmed it here wasn’t exactly a surprise. 
“I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, let me know.” Streve added, before screwing up his courage and leaning down.
That of course, got Eddie to open his eyes.
“Wha--” He managed, before Steve’s lips were on his. 
For one single, blissful moment, Eddie Munson’s mouth was too busy to talk. 
“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice wrecked, and oh, Steve liked that. 
“Huh.” Steve muttered, when they broke for air. “Well that’s new.”
Liked the way Eddie looked at him more, hesitant, but with heat in his gaze. 
Steve had always been good about knowing what to do with heat. 
He leaned back down, pecking lightly at Eddie’s lips, and was delighted to find Eddie not only let him, but kissed back. 
“Not bad, Munson, but I think I could give you a few pointers.” Steve muttered, nose ghosting alongside Eddie’s. “Let me show you…” 
One boyfriend, several weeks, and another interdimensional monster later, Steve found himself socked in the arm by none other than his coworker, Robin Buckley. 
In her defense, she’d confessed her love for Tammy Thompson, still somewhat drugged on the Starcourt bathroom floor, only for Steve to tease her that at least his boyfriend could actually sing. 
“God you and Eddie Munson.” She muttered after, smile on her face. “How did that happen?” 
Steve knocked his shoe into hers, returning the grin unabashedly. 
“So remember last Valentines Day?” Steve started, all too eager to finally tell someone who understood about the best thing to ever happen to him. 
Robin of course, would soon also be ranked in that same chart, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. ) 
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munson-blurbs · 3 months
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Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader
Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.
Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff
WC: 1.8k
A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.
Divider credit to @saradika
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“Kill me now.”
Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh. 
You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it. 
Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”
Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?” 
Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”
“I don’t—”
“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”
You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”
You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face. 
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Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon. 
“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”
“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”
Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”
“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”
“And you don’t?” Gareth quips. 
Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”
Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members. 
Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”
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The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail. 
You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases. 
“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices. 
Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”
“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud. 
“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more. 
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“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side. 
“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter. 
They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food. 
“What the hell? I’m hungry!”
Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”
“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”
“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.
“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”
Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous. 
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You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.
“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”
She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?
“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.
Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.
“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.
She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”
“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.
Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back. 
His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”
The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”
“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”
You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”
Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”
--
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Note
Bucky wooing Malyshka in their dating phase
Bucky loves spoiling you. And he's only getting started, he's going to show you all the benefits that come with being his girl.
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Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader
CW: Bucky’s very generous love language.
AN: Written on my phone. Sinday Drabble.
✧Part of the Bumblebee series✧
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Bucky stares at his phone, ignoring the meeting droning on around him. If he got the timing right, you’re about to discover your newest gift.
Strumming his fingers on the side of his glass, a rare grin tugs on his lips.
His men gradually fall silent when they take notice, the conversation waning until only the tap tap tap against his drink is audible in the large office.
Lifting his head, his perceptive dark blue eyes cutting across the room. The warning on his face couldn’t be clearer than if he had yelled. Don't waste his time. Mace, the property developer, flinches under his heavy stare, stuttering over his words as he resumes detailing the floor plans for the new casino.
It’s almost 9.
Bucky picks up his phone and unlocks it. He hasn't been this excited in months. Propping his feet on his desk, he begins to count down.
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“Are you serious?” Grace asks, her eyes widening comically as she holds up your wrist. The light reflects off the diamond bracelet, making it appear even brighter than it naturally is. “He got this because you looked at it. You didn’t even ask for it. You just looked and he bought it.”
This is the second time she’s repeated herself and honestly you can’t blame her because you’re still in disbelief yourself.
You laugh, raising your free hand. “Girl. You have no idea. He asked me if I’d ever been to the Fiji Islands, I tell him no and he says he can have the jet ready in less than an hour whenever I want to go. Like it’s not a big deal to just take me to another country if I feel like going.”
She drops your wrist and falls back on your bed with a groan. “Why did I ditch you that night? The one night I decide to leave early, all the hot single millionaires decide to show up.”
You bite back a grin, adjusting the bracelet. You’re not going to tell her about the naughty inscription he had engraved on the inner band.
Or that fact that he’s more of a billionaire. Or that you're almost certain he's in the mob.
She moves to her elbows, glaring at you. “Why aren’t you on a jet to motherfuckin’ Fiji right now?” Grace doesn’t let you answer, slumping back down. “Why am I not on a jet? Seriously the one night I decide to go home on time.”
Her chest shakes as she pretends to sob, clutching her hands to her face. Despite her shenanigans, she’s one of your best friends and one of the few you can share all this with without any concerns that she might get jealous.
“Speaking of being on time,” you say, strolling over to the mirror, eyeing your outfit. Bucky spent hours yesterday convincing you that you look good in this dress. You can't wait to show him a few pics later, this man has done wonders for your confidence. "We should get going. “He got us reservations at his new restaurant and I’m starving."
You glance over your shoulder, grinning at your friend before applying another layer of lipstick.
"You never know, one of his single millionaire friends might be there...” you tease.
Scooting off the bed, she grabs her purse off your dresser. “That’s all you had to say. Let’s go.”
Laughing, you follow her out of your place. You have the key in the lock when you hear a loud holy shit behind you. Spinning around you in time to see Grace recording the car in front of your home.
Except this isn’t your car.
This is nicer than anything you’ve ever owned.
It’s all sleek curves in a luxurious matte black exterior. Expensive. Imported. And definitely not your car.
You have your phone out, his name on your screen before you can blink.
“Malyshka.” The velvety deep sound of his voice in your ear makes your heart skip a few beats.
That damn nickname is going to ruin you. You never knew one word could make you feel so special.
It’s the way he says it, rolling it over his tongue like he wants to sink his teeth into you, like he’s fucking addicted to you.
Like you’re his.
“Bucky.” For a second you forget why you called him. Right. The car. You inhale a shake breathy, the cool night air soothing your lungs. Clearing your throat, you gingerly approach the Lamborghini.
“I uh, think someone stole my car,” you intone with a hint of amusement. “You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”
He hums in his throat. "No, no idea."
"Uh-huh." You swallow down a laugh, once again overwhelmed by his generosity. Blinking back tears because you do not want to fix your mascara, you watch Grace circle the car. "So you didn't take my car and replace it with a Lambo?"
“I would never just take something Malyshka. I’m an upstanding citizen.” Bucky starts, you hear a burst of laughter in the background followed by a dull thud. His voice softens, warming as he continues. “Do you like it?”
“It’s gorgeous,” you say, touching the frame with your fingertips. “But it’s way too expensive Bucky. I can’t keep this. I definitely can't pay you back. What if I scratch it or put a dent in it?”
He knew you were going to try this. Bucky loosens his tie, leaning his chair back as he pictures your face.
“Then I’ll get you another one. And it's a gift for you, I'm not taking it back unless it's to get you one in a different color.”
Oh.
“You can pay me back by having a good time tonight. That’s all I need.“
Oh.
“Thank you, Bucky,” you say with a smile. He catches the breathy, stunned tone in your voice, his blue eyes darkening as he imagines you saying his name like that under very different circumstances—you naked, writhing under him.
“My pleasure.” It won’t be long before you realize that he means that literally. Bucky’s discovered that he gets off on spoiling you and he intends to do it as often as you’ll let him. He wants you to have everything your heart desires. “Enjoy your dinner.”
You slide into drivers side, the luxurious material smooth and warm under your legs. Grace stares at you, mouthing ohmigod from the passenger seat as she uploads another story to her IG, taking more pics of the interior. “If you’re still up later, maybe I can stop by and thank you in person.”
“Stop by anytime you want” Bucky smirks, running his thumb across his bottom lip. He'd stay up all night for you. If you insist on thanking him, you can start by letting him bury his head between your pretty thighs. You might be eating at one of the best restaurants in the city but he’s the one that’s going to have a five-star dessert tonight.
“And Malyshka, nothing is too expensive when it comes to you.”
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antiquarianfics · 4 months
Text
A Slip of the Tongue
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a/n: how would y’all like an un-proofread one shot i wrote? ‘twas inspired by someone else’s story with a similar concept, but i lost it. :( anyhoo. i made you some content.
warnings: brief mention of death, otherwise none.
masterlist
“Me and Nina played on the swings today!” Your daughter, Ellie, tells you as you strap her into her car seat.
“Yeah? That so?” You ask. This is one of your favorite parts of your day; that is, listening to Ellie tell you about her day at school.
“Yeah! Nina is new. Her daddy got a new job and had to move them here. She speaks 2 languages!”
“Wow! That’s really cool, baby. What other language does she speak?”
“I think she said… Um. Something that started with an R.” Ellie scrunches her face up in consideration.
“Russian?” You ask, finishing buckling her in. You close the door and move around the car, getting in yourself.
“Yeah, I think,” Ellie replies.
“Did you know Bucky speaks Russian?” You ask her, sharing the tidbit about your boyfriend with your daughter.
Ellie loves Bucky, and he her. When Ellie’s father passed away, you truly never thought you would move on, and it killed you Ellie would grow up without a father. Then, you met Bucky, and he was wonderful. It was a complete meet-cute. You ran into him—literally—in a coffee shop 5 minutes away from Ellie’s school. You were in a rush, trying to get your coffee, your belongings, and your bearings to go pick up Ellie, and in your frantic fumbling, you crashed into a stranger who, rather than getting upset by being hit and drenched in a late, simply steadied you by the arms and asked if you were alright.
Bucky insisted on buying you a new coffee because “It’s my fault for being on your way, Doll. Besides, my ma’d kill me if she knew I passed up an opportunity to ask a pretty woman on a date.”
The admission took you by surprise, and Bucky later revealed it took him by surprise, too. Something about you, he said, brought out his old 40s confidence. He didn’t worry about scaring you like he would anyone else. In fact, he said, in that moment, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier, and he never was. He was just Bucky.
That day, though, you’d declined, telling him you had to pick your daughter up from school, but you quickly amended your statement to let him know you were at that very coffee shop everyday for an hour before you picked up Ellie. “So,” you had said, “if my being a single mom doesn’t scare you, you can buy me that make-up latte another time.” And, by god, Bucky Barnes was at that coffee shop then next day, waiting with your latte.
Fast forward to today, and Bucky practically lives with you and Ellie. He still has his apartment, but he spends 6 out of 7 days at your house. It’s so natural, though, you wish he’d just ditch the apartment and make it official. After all, he is an excellent roommate. He does the dishes, cleans up after himself, doesn’t hog the blankets, and—most importantly—he is fantastic with Ellie. He plays with her, he reads her bedtime stories, he cuts her food for her, and so much more. He is everything to you and Ellie.
So, when you tell Ellie that Bucky also speaks more than one language, you can’t help but grin when she rambles the rest of the car ride home about how she is going to ask him about that language he speaks—what language does Bucky speak again, Mama?—and then she is going to learn it too so she can show Nina.
Ellie’s rambling lasts all the way home, into the house, and into the living room where she drops her backpack on the ground and runs to Bucky, jumping in his lap with no warning. Bucky grunts at the impact, but he smiles fondly at the young girl.
“Hey, El,” he greets. “How was school?”
“Bucky, I made a new friend! She’s so cool. Did you know she speaks 2 languages! That’s really cool. I can only speak 1 language. Her daddy got a new job, so they came here. She’s my new best friend. I don’t remember what language she speaks, though.”
Ellie speaks a million miles a minute as she tries to fill Bucky in on her day. Bucky makes eye contact with you over her head and you merely smile and shrug, making Bucky grin.
“Russian,” you offer, as you move to sink down onto the couch next to your boyfriend and your daughter.
“Russian!” Ellie exclaims, nodding her head excitedly. “Mama said you speak Russian, Bucky. Do you speak Russian?”
“I do,” Bucky confirms, laughing at the amazed look that crosses Ellie’s face.
“Say something! Say something!” She begs.
“Yeah, Bucky, say something in Russian!” You join in on Ellie’s begging with a laugh.
“Вы двое знали, что я люблю вас? Мои красивые, глупые девочки,” Bucky says, chuckling to himself as he watches Ellie’s amazed face.
“Wow,” she says, eyes transfixed on Bucky.
You laugh. “Yeah, wow,” you confirm, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Bucky’s cheek before standing to go to the kitchen.
You make it just across the room when you stop dead in your tracks, turning to make eye contact with Bucky and attempt to gauge his reaction to Ellie’s words.
“I can’t wait to tell Nina tomorrow that my daddy speaks Russian, too,” Ellie says, lying her head on Bucky’s chest.
You and Bucky make eye contact across the room, and you hold a silent conversation.
Bucky’s eyes are widened in shock, but he raises an eyebrow at you as if to ask, “Did she just call me her daddy?”
You shrug, mouth slightly agape. Ellie has never called Bucky her daddy before, but it doesn’t surprise you. Bucky is always around, and he acts like a father figure regardless of your relationship with him. So, you say nothing, just shrug your shoulders and hope Bucky gets the message:
“I don’t know, but I’ll tell her not to if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Bucky shakes his head to let you know he doesn’t mind. Really likes it even.
Finally he speaks, “Yeah, tell her your daddy speaks Russian. I’ll even teach you some if you want.”
Ellie shoots up in Bucky’s lap, grabbing his face between her hands, and seriously begging him to follow through with his promise immediately.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She exclaims. “What did you say a minute ago?” She asks, assigning her first Russian lesson.
“Вы двое знали, что я люблю вас? Мои красивые, глупые девочки. It means, “Did you two know I love you? My beautiful, silly girls.”
1K notes · View notes
steddiealltheway · 7 months
Text
(Set right before season 4)
Steve rushes over to the Henderson house after an ominous call from Dustin saying, "Come over as soon as you can, it's an emergency," before hanging up dramatically.
He can hear his nail bat rolling around in his trunk every turn he takes as he gets there in record time. He grabs the bat out of the trunk and rushes to the door, not bothering to knock before he barges in.
He's met with the sight of Eddie Munson staring at him with wide eyes as Dustin yells, "No! No! Don't swing! Not a code red!"
Steve sets down the bat and lets out a deep breath. "What the hell, Henderson?! I could've seriously taken you out with this thing!" He hears Dustin give him a half-assed apology as he tries to get his heartbeat to slow down. "Next time, don't leave such a cryptic message, okay?"
"Okay," Dustin says, holding his hands up.
"What the fuck is that?" Munson asks, staring at the bat.
Steve points at him and says, "Language," before turning to Dustin and asking, "What's he doing here?"
Dustin sighs and gestures them toward his couch. Steve shoots Eddie a look before taking a seat right against the arm of the couch. It's not that he hates him, hell, he's pretty sure he's gotten weed from him before. It's just that he doesn't like sharing this older brother role with another guy - especially one who likes to make dramatic speeches on top of lunch tables.
Based on the way Eddie is similarly leaning away from him and uncomfortably fidgeting with his rings, he can tell there's a mutual tension between them. Dustin doesn't pick up on it as he sits across from them, acting like he's about to deliver the worst news ever.
Steve leans forward a little trying to get Dustin to finally spill and tries not to lean back immediately when he sees that Eddie is doing the same thing.
"Okay, Suzie and I were talking, and her family is considering visiting Hawkins."
Steve smiles. "That's great, but why-"
"Why are you acting like that's bad news?" Eddie asks, finishing Steve's sentence. The two glance at each other, and Steve tries not to size him up.
Dustin groans, "Because I need to take her on a proper date! We weren't able to go on dates during science camp, so I want this to be special. Of course, this is all contingent on whether she can convince her dad to give us alone time..."
"I could be your chaperone, but I'd ditch you once you got to the movie theater," Steve offers.
Eddie scoffs, "Yeah, a date with Suzie will not be at a movie theater."
Steve crosses his legs and turns toward Eddie. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you knew something about dating. Wait a minute." He directs his attention back to Dustin, utterly horrified. "You asked me and Munson for girl help?"
"Don't sound so shocked," Eddie says, but Steve ignores him.
"Yes," Dustin states simply. He sighs and gestures between the two of them. "Steve, you're a lady's man and you know exactly what to say and where the best date spots are, but you pick up the worst girls. Except Robin who you refuse to date." Steve doesn't have time to argue before Dustin points at Eddie, "And Eddie understands all the cool nerd stuff that Suzie and I like, and he's super charismatic. So, I thought we could combine your abilities to create the most epic date in the history of dates."
"No," Steve and Eddie both say at once.
"Guys-"
Steve turns to Eddie and raises an eyebrow. "Why are you protesting my help?"
"Because try as he might, Dustin can't convince me that you aren't an asshole that has never actually wooed a girl. You get by with your pretty looks and think that's enough."
Steve's mind lingers a bit on the "pretty looks" for some reason, but he pushes past it to say, "Please, you're telling me you know a single thing about wooing a girl?"
Eddie leans in with a bright smile. "You heard it from Henderson, I'm charming."
"Charismatic," Steve corrects him, "But I haven't seen a shred of that yet."
Eddie tosses an arm over the back of the couch and scoots in until Steve is trapped against the arm of the couch. Steve tries not to show Eddie how much the sudden closeness is affecting him.
"I could easily charm your pants off, big boy," Eddie says with a wink.
Steve's eyes betray him and flicker down to Eddie's lips. "Please, I'd easily beat you to it."
Eddie tilts his head and looks at him through his lashes. "Are you saying you want to charm my pants off, Harrington? I'm flattered, but I'm not that kind of girl."
Steve raises his eyebrows. "Is that a bet?"
"Do you want it to be? Because it kind of sounds like it."
Steve blames his series of bad dates, the meaningless sex with girls with no substance, and the weird tension between them for his response. "It's a date, Munson."
"So, I'm going to assume that was the weirdest way of you two agreeing to help me," Dustin says, startling Steve away from Eddie who he was definitely not just about to kiss.
"Jesus H. Christ," Eddie mumbles under his breath as he moves away, seeming to have also forgotten where they were.
"Sure, we'll create a date for you two and trial-run it for issues," Steve says.
Dustin smiles wide and giggles, "See, I knew you two would help if you just put your dumb differences aside!"
"Something like that," Eddie mutters. "But hey, what does your gut say? Where do you want to take her?"
Dustin shrugs. "I like the idea of the movies."
Steve slowly looks over at Eddie and gives him a cocky smile. Eddie's mouth twitches momentarily into a frown, but he ignores him. "I'll think of something special to do after, but Harrington can fill you in on a movie date."
"I thought you were the expert on wooing," Steve snarkily replies.
Eddie huffs, "Movie dates just aren't my thing."
If they're actually trial-running this, Steve will make it a point to make movie dates Eddie's thing.
"That sounds great. Thank you both!" Dustin says, still ignoring the obvious tension.
"Well, I've got to head out, but it was good seeing you," Eddie says with a genuine smile that Steve thinks he would like to see more often.
"I do, too. Hey, I'm glad I could help. Next time maybe don't make it sound like a nail-bat emergency though," Steve says lowering his voice before grabbing the bat.
He follows Eddie toward the front, but they both stop and turn to mess up Dustin's hair simultaneously. Steve pulls his hand back when Eddie's hand runs on top of his. He looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed.
"I told you you guys are similar."
Steve thinks that Dustin's right, but maybe they're only similar in the way they both obviously care for him.
They finish their goodbyes and head out into the cold January weather. Steve clutches his jacket tighter around himself - he had forgotten to grab a heavier coat in his rush over. He turns to Eddie and says, "Hey."
Eddie turns to him and raises his eyebrows.
"Want to trial-run that date tonight?"
Eddie frowns at him. "I thought you were joking."
With that, Steve should take the clear out given to him and agree. Yes, it was just a joke. Instead, he says, "It doesn't have to be."
It's a long few seconds of Eddie staring at him before he gets a quiet response of, "Yeah, sure. Uh, let's go to my place though. I don't want your reputation to be tainted if you're seen in public with me."
"I wouldn't mind," Steve says sincerely. He's not sure why he's so adamant about this date, but maybe he just wants to see where that moment on the couch could truly lead. "But hey, your reputation would also be tainted if you're associating with me."
"And we wouldn't want that," Eddie says with a small smile. "The freak and the king. What would people say?"
This surprises a laugh out of Steve before he says, "I think your place would probably be a little more intimate than a movie theater."
He can't tell if Eddie's cheeks suddenly flush a little pinker from the cold or a blush. "I told you, I'm not that kind of guy."
"More intimate doesn't always mean sex. You know this."
Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "Why don't we continue this conversation at my place so you don't freeze to death?"
"I like the sound of that," Steve says, making his way to his car and trying to hide the huge smile that's trying to split across his face all because of Eddie Munson.
He rushes to shove his bat into the trunk, hoping that he won't have to further explain that to Eddie. But based on the way his eyes linger on it, he's thinking he won't get away from questioning too easily.
Luckily, he has prepared his Harrington charm for this moment. And boy, he's going to be using it as often as he can to prove Eddie wrong.
Part Two (aka the final part)
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dumbseee · 7 months
Text
soft launch.
in which, mick is soft launching you.
mich schumacher x reader.
fc: sophia birlem.
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liked by maxverstappen1, estebanocon, y/n and 789 009 others.
mickschumacher: holiday season 🏝🗺
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fan1: wait a damn minute…
fan2: WHO IS THAT
fan3: with all due respect you look delicious but WHO is that lovely lady?
fan4: the pic is so cute omg
fan5: whoever that is i hope she’s good to him
fan6: NOT MY HUSBAND
fan7: mick soft launching?
fan8: the rings 🫠
fan9: who is that slut next to mick?
fan10: new wag alert
fan11: those comments are not it, he’s a grown ass man let him be
fan12: i bet he’s going to ditch her after summer ends lmao
view all comments.
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mickschumacher just posted a story!
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y/n just posted a story!
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liked by mickschumacher, estebanocon, francisca.cgomes and 240 103 others.
y/n: say hi to mickey <3
_
fan1: YOURE SO BEAUTIFUL OMG
fan2: mick is one lucky mf
fan3: they’re going to break up in a month mark my words
fan4: i’m literally heartbroken rn
fan5: my new parents
fan6: girlie run they’re coming for you
francisca.cgomes: cuties
liked by y/n.
fan7: they compliment each other so well tho
mickschumacher: hi pretty lady
liked by y/n.
fan8: mick i hope you can fight bc your girlfriend is GORG
fan9: the pictures are so cute omg
fan10: the mick girlies already crying in the comments
fan11: he hid her so well wdym he had a whole gf this entire time?
fan12: i’m so happy for him qjjabakzlzm
fan13: thanks for your service y/n, we now have tons of pictures of bf material mick
y/n: 🫡
fan14: the BIG ASS hickey in the first picture wtf
fan15: ew you can tell she’s classless
view all comments.
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liked by mickschumacher, lilymhe, carmenmundt and 192 023 others.
y/n: my camera roll is full of cats we met on the street and mickey
_
carmenmundt: ♥️
fan1: their vibe is so chill, they really match each other
fan2: i’m a lil sad that mick is dating someone but she seems nice
estebanocon: i see two owls in that pic
fan3: nooooo they’re so cute
fan4: she’s getting so much hate on twitter but she’s just minding her business??
fan5: WHORE
fan6: don’t worry guys she won’t last till the end of the season 🤭
fan7: the obsession y’all have with random men who don’t even know y’all exist is insane
fan8: so CUTE
fan9: i bet mick paid for everything lmao
mickschumacher: she actually paid the whole trip, i’m just her sugar baby
fan10: JAKQOSPSPPSPSOS BRO
fan11: and that’s how you clap back at haters, guys
fan12: if only others drivers were defending their gfs like mick is defending y/n
view all comments.
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liked by mickschumacher, estebanocon, luisinhaoliveira99 and 501 019 others.
y/n: ‘cars outside’ is out :)
_
fan1: not it being a love song for mick :(
fan2: WHY am i crying hysterically about two adults being in love
fan3: "oh darling, all of the city lights, never shine as bright as your eyes." GOD
mickschumacher: why did i do to deserve you?
fan4: they’re so in love it’s almost disgusting
fan5: esteban will have to third wheel now lmao
estebanocon: i’ve been third wheeling for a year now
fan6: A YEAR???
fan7: THEY’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR A YEAR??
fan8: a year like 365 days? damn schumacher
fan9: nah but hiding a whole gf for a year when you have crazy groupies up your ass every single day is insane
fan10: the cutest couple if you ask me
fan11: i just fell to my knees
fan12: WHEN IS IT MY TURN GODDAMNIT
view all comments.
taglist: @ferrariloverr
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crypticminx · 3 months
Note
hello! could I request Felix and reader leaving together at an Oxford party and their night? THANK YOU<3 could be smut or fluff whatever you prefer
Hello lovely!! Here you go!!! Hope you enjoy xx 🩷
AN: smutttt, Dom!felix, small breeding kink, daddy kink and little bit of flufff <3 P in V, unprotected sex xoxo
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Oxford parties.
Drunk people scattered around like zombies, making complete utter fools of themselves on the dance floor as loud hip music blared through the drums of each speaker. Copious amounts of strong liquor was always passed around and one could only hope they didn't get sick from sharing the mouth stained bottles.
Trashy to say the least—but classy in each partygoers pumped heart.
Felix Catton was known for always being in attendance at such parties and stemmed to be the heart throbbing crowd pleaser—that is for all the enraged horny females.
Practically throwing their limp, alcohol filled bodies at him, Felix wasn’t known to be a rejecting heartbreaker, but curiosity always got the best of him, leaving himself to never turn down a good night. Even if that meant following those girls back to their messy dorms.
However, All good things must come to an end, and what—or for a better word, who was finally good for Felix was none other than the most gorgeous girl on campus: Y/N Y/L.
Cuffed, taken, bagged; Felix could proudly admit for once, with a cheery smile, that he was in an amazing relationship.
So when Y/N and Felix started to arrive at every annual party, dashing hand in hand, they received the usual jealous stares from snotty singles and the more pleased ones from their tight knit group of friends.
This night was no different from the same, besides the new arcade fire song that was blasting on repeat. Although parties were a fun festivity to end off a tiresome week of studies, Y/N didn’t find the vibe as enjoyable as previous events.
Standing in the corner holding a red solo cup that was filled with more juice than vodka, Y/N kept to herself for the most part and only encouraged herself to drink by taking a few ditzy shots with Oliver while her beloved Felix was challenged to a silly game of beer pong.
Typical, she thought
Gulping the rest of her drink, Y/N tried her best to look for Felix and while she did so, she gave herself the time to elaborate a good excuse on why they should ditch the party.
The atmosphere was sweaty, humid, and a small stench of some lightweights nasty vomit sprouted it’s aroma from the bathroom. If that wasn’t a good wake up call, what was?
Lost in the haze of people who were doing some new stupid dance trend, Y/N groaned as she felt herself bumping into someone. Nearly spilling her drink, she managed to stop herself before becoming the embarrassment of the night.
She was too full of mental exhaustion—rather more frustrated to even look at up at the soul she collided into.
“Hey,” she knew that voice anywhere and instantly felt relief.
“Jeez fel,” she called him by his proufound nickname she granted him when they first started dating, “I’ve been looking for you like a mad man!”
He chuckled and wrapped a lose arm around her shoulder. Y/N’s eyes fluttered with awe as he did just so and she quickly wondered how in the midst of the grossness around them, Felix could still manage to look so perfect.
Ugh, just a quick glance at her man and she could feel herself growing internally hungry.
Dressed in a loose throw over that appeared to have not a single alcohol stain and his hair—heavens his hair, not one strand of his neat chestnut locks was out of place. He always kept his composure, at least that was one thing different about him and his inseparable sister, Venetia.
“So, ‘m thinking,” he began as he pulled Y/N closer into his chest, the smell of his lovely cologne filling her nose with its radiant clove scent.
“Oh, so you managed to actually use your brain tonight?” Y/N interrupted him, earning a swift tap on her button nose as he goofishly grinned at her.
“Quiet you,” he cooed before leaning closer to her frame, “wanna get out of here?
Her eyes widened in delight as she felt Felix slyly move his needy hands down to the hem of her plaid skirt. A slight clench of his hands that grabbed her bottom made her want to run as fast and far away into privacy with her loving man.
“I thought you’d never ask, love,” grinning like her face had no end, Felix offered his girlfriend his hand as they were about to politely escort themselves out of the way and into the young night.
That was until-
“Oi,” a voice chirped from behind them, causing the couple to swing back as a natural reaction, “and just where do you think you two lovebirds are going?” Oliver entered his way into the picture, something he managed to always do.
“Ollie,” Felix deviously beamed, “I have things to do.”
Felix could be such a smug little asshole.
“More like a special someone to do,” Oliver winked and lifted his cup in Y/N direction, earning an annoyed look of disapproval.
Oliver was just as much as an asshole, but that’s why him and Felix hit it so well.
“Catch you in a bit,” it was more of a statement as opposed to a question, but Oliver knew what the couple was up to.
Oliver knew better than to ever insult Y/N, but the more time Felix included her in things, she developed a strong bond with his pals, but Oliver had slithered his way with getting to know her the most.
He was welcoming, kind and graciously humble, unlike some of the many pricks that marked their way in Oxford, not caring who they belittled or how they did it.
“Whatever you say Mrs. Catton,” she playfully flipped Oliver off as he shook his head with a small chuckle, turning his back away from Y/N and Felix and into the crowd of people.
——————————————————-
“Felix!” Y/N giggled before she fell to the ground, laughing all the way down as she felt long, uncomfortable pieces of grass embrace her body. It was almost a tickling sensation.
“Shhhh,” Felix cupped his hand over her lipstick stained mouth, feeling her warm breath on his palm as it seemed nearly impossible for her to stop herself, “I don’t want to cause a scene my darling.”
With all her might, she moved Felix’s hand away from her face and contently sighed, “oh, but you always do, my love.”
“Feisty now?” He cocked an eyebrow down to where she layed like an angel in the field, waiting for him to avenge her with his sweet love.
“For you, always.”
“Then let’s stop wasting time,” he groaned, feeling his cock twitch at the thought of getting to put it in his sweet girl, tension rising within him to get the job done right, but to also make it lasting and worthwhile.
There was nothing more he loved than making her release herself in waves of pure ecstasy that came with her angelic moans of delight.
Throwing his shirt off somewhere in a small bush behind him, his graceful fingers took absolutely no time in undoing Y/N’s silk, button down and uncuffing her bra.
He was marveled at the sight before him and without any hesitation, he leaned down and began to mark her smooth skin with aggressive kisses that were filled with passion.
Y/N being half naked and about to do it in a forest; it seemed like something from a cheesy movie.
Doing the deed at a house party was cliche and reminded Felix of his past more than he liked to remember and doing it on one of the various campus balconies was adventurous—but a total letdown once it started to rain over Felix and Y/N.
However, now felt like the right time.
“Love,” Y/N gently spoke in between long kisses from Felix, “are you gonna take off my skirt?”
Y/N startled in place as Felix almost ripped off all of her bottoms, fearing he had broke one her favourite skirts he had purchased for her.
Fully naked, Y/N felt an immediate sensation of heat rush over her body and instantly forgot about all the outdoor surroundings as Felix yanked off his belt and threw away his jeans and boxers into mid air.
It was just her, Felix, and all the nights starry glory that was upon them.
“Fuck,” he moaned as he hands fondled her breasts, hard nipples graced the tips of his palms, “you’re beautiful.”
It might’ve been too dark for Felix to see it, but Y/N still managed to blush every time he complimented her—which was practically every heartfelt second they spent together .
“Fel,” she started to beg, “I need you.”
He eagerly placed himself back on top of her, leaving his hard cock to graze the outside of her already soaked cunt. In any regular situation, he would’ve been thrusting with all his might, but tonight he was feeling different.
“Not until you say my name, darling,” he demanded.
“Please daddy.” Y/N squeaked, panting for him to enter himself inside of her.
“That’s my good girl,” he smirked in delight, pushing himself with ease as his rock solid cock glided into Y/N.
“Mmm,” she tried to fight back a moan, but it was no use. She needed him more than ever.
She felt her legs twitch as they melted into bliss as Felix steadily did what he does best; fucking her.
“Baby,” he groaned as he maneuvered himself to grab her soft hair as he dove into her neck for more kisses, “you always get so damn wet for me.”
Y/N moved closer to his frame as his hands tugged her head to his face, his cock continuing to puncture her in all the right ways.
He violated her mouth as his tongue swirled in fast pace with hers, Y/N having to breakaway from his kiss just to catch her breath.
“Oh Felix—daddy,” she bit her lip, feeling himself plunge harder into her as she mistakenly called him by his name, “I want to cum.”
“Not yet darling, let me feel you more.”
Y/N toes curled as he let out a loud groan of pleasure, looking down at her flushed face, he was so proud to call her his girl.
“Mmm sweetheart,” he panted in between breaths, “aren’t you tired of Oxford.”
Oxford? Why the hell was be going on about school during intercourse?
“N-Not really,” she squeaked in response.
“Well baby,” he lingered his way back to her face, planting sloppy kisses as he felt her nails scratch deep into his lean back, “when can I take you out of here and make you my pretty little wife?
Y/N hummed in response, closing her eyes as they relaxed into bliss, “you plan on knocking me up too, yeah?”
Felix couldn’t tell if she was being serious—what is said during sex is not always reality, but just the mild thought of him getting the chance to plant his seed in his beloved made him turn ravenous.
He would do anything for Y/N, but if he could keep her away from any thirsty Oxford boys and make her his wife and potential mother of his children, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
“Jesus,” he croaked, already feeling himself starting to lose his pace due to his cock becoming seconds away from releasing into her. “You have no idea, my baby.”
“Daddy—“ Y/N shouted through the bushes of the forest garden, “come with me.”
And like the perfect scene from a porno film, the couple came in unison, wordlessly twinkling at each other with a strong glimmer of love in each one of their eyes.
Y/N let herself be free and rolled her head back, enjoying the climax of her orgasm, feeling more than satisfied with Felix’s overwhelming stimulation of an erotic performance.
She sighed, “I love you.”
Felix, already trying to find her clothes so she wouldn’t freeze in the cool night. “I’m serious, y’know.”
“About marriage or…”
“All of it, my darling,” he gently patted Y/N’s head of messy hair due to their rough embrace.
“But right now?” Y/N sounded hesitant, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t up for it.
“Whenever,” he sat down to her side, passing her ruffled clothing, before leaning to kiss her gracefully on the cheek. “I’d wait an entire lifetime for you, angel.”
Y/N knew the time wasn’t right, they had their whole lives ahead of them, but then again, she could always stop taking her birth control and see what fate would have in store for them.
Though—for now at least, she felt at ease and more than happy to have another memorable shared night with her lover.
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onsomenewsht · 2 months
Text
now playing: Colorado
< track 2 || track 4 >
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》 Alexia Putellas x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 I'd choose the devil I know over the heaven I don't
The end starts with you finding the ring.
“Alexia, I swear to your good knee, if you’re not ready I’m gonna sell your Ballon d’Or”, your announcement resonating through the rooms. 
You’ve been ready for an entire hour now, beaming and excited for the opportunity to present with your teammates a special award named after your captain. The only thing missing is your perfectionist girlfriend still hidden in the bathroom.
When you open the door, you cannot believe your eyes.
Alexia’s tattooed back is exposed in the criminally low backless dress she’s in, sure, but her hair is still dripping wet and she’s fighting with a makeup brush. Clearly losing, her frown is a well known hint for you. 
She’s not ready and now you have to find your way on the black market.
“Need help?”
“No”
“Yes, vamos a llegar tarde” (we’re late)
“No voy a llegar tarde si ni quiero ir” (I can’t be late if I don’t wanna go in the first place)
Your chuckle filling the room is enough to make the blonde smirk, but you know her well enough to read the subtle lines on her face. Her worries are clear, the reasons to be discovered and a solution to be found.
Taking place behind her figure, you set your hands on her sides and plant a couple of strategically placed kisses on her back and shoulders. Her fitted form relaxes right away under your lips.
When your eyes meet in the mirror it's like a story is being narrated, an understanding of each other that goes beyond big words and great gestures but holds the deep love shared.
Your fingers move to untangle the blonde’s wet hair, taking the time to dry and straighten each lock just as she likes.
“Lo siento” (I’m sorry)
Shy Alexia is a version of her few people meet, her stance a lot less intimidating than the one she portrays on the field or in front of hundreds of cameras. 
“No tienes nada de que arrepentirte, mi corazón” (Nothing to be sorry for)
“I lost time in the gym and I lost time in the shower and I guess I just don’t wanna go”, the English sentence giving away how much thought she put into it. 
The catalan turns to look directly into your eyes for the first time all day, you realise. She really doesn’t want to go to this event, but your excitement and anticipation must have helped hide it throughout the week.
“Eres preciosa, mi amor” (You’re beautiful), she simply states, taking in the perfectly ironed black dress you’re wearing and the meticulously braided hair framing your face.
You smile at her, you love her.
“I know you don’t like the idea of this award, I know you don’t want us handing it to you with a carefully drafted speech”
“¡Lo escribiste!” (You wrote it, didn’t you?)
“Jana helped, all the team did”
Alexia’s eyebrow rises and you don't miss the fact she has a little bit more makeup on than usual, a sight she’s putting an effort.
“I supervised, don’t worry”
“No es reconfortante” (It’s no reassuring)
But her shoulders are relaxed, her frown no longer creasing her beautiful face. The blonde is calmer now and you take it as a victory she never actually asked you to ditch the all thing and hide together under a blanket with a mindless dating show in the background.
“Lo leerás?” (Will you read it?)
“Banned me to even come close to a microphone”, to be fair, it was a single accident and they should’ve not let the anchor’s line open when you just won a championship and your girlfriend’s literally glowing.
She bursts out laughing and you know she’s ready.
Almost ready.
“Take me the white heels while I finish esto”, her fingers moving somehow awkwardly around her mouth, “Y estamos listos!” (And we’re ready to go).
You place a soft but firm kiss on her lips, leaving for her shoes rack.
You’re looking for a pair of heels, one she hates to wear but well designed and a perfect fit with her dress. One she doesn’t wear much so it’s probably hidden in a box in the back of the closet.
That’s why you’re looking for a hidden box of shoes.
That’s where you notice a velvet little box.
That’s how you find the ring.
It’s a beautiful ring. Stunning cut, your precise size. A modest but expertly crafted gem complementing the simple band. It’s the perfect ring.
You don’t like shiny thing, Alexia could ask you to marry her with paper or grass from Camp Nou and you’re gonna say yes regardless.
But that’s exactly the problem.
You love her, you really do. You love her so much you gladly do whatever she asks, if she wants it enough to ask. You keep her love above your own and that’s fine, you’re happy with it. What she loves comes before what you love, naturally following immediately after anyway. 
And what she loves the most is usually you, so you never questioned it. 
However, when her love starts coming despite yours, you realise you can’t keep doing it.
The shift is difficult to perceive, coming at such a silent but excruciating pace that’s impossible to predict and devastating to take in.
The bomb dropped on you in the form of a tiny jewellery box that detonated when opened, shining ring inside.
“Està Narnia?” (You found Narnia?)
Closing the box and effectively concealing the ring from your gaze it’s a switch off. The silence that usually preempts a devastating explosion is coming after it, this one time.
“I’m ready!”
When she walks out of the bathroom, stunning as ever, you just stare. You never loved someone as much as you love her, that is obvious for a while now. 
You never loved and you will never love someone as much as you love her. 
Not even yourself.
“Estás bien?” (Are you okay?)
“T’estimo” (I love you)
Shining eyes almost give away all the meaning behind your words, but the captain fondly kisses you and it’s all good again.
Alexia takes the heels from your hands, when you manage to find them is not clear in your head, and sits on the bed. Your fingers intertwine as you bend on your knees and carefully tie the long white laces around her ankles.
“You good?”, she holds one of your hands and her stare is searching straight through your soul.
She has a ring hidden in a box, how long ago did she buy it?
“Let’s get you this award, mi corazón”
She wants to marry you, when will she ask?
Both your holds are firm and kind, she is calmed and ready. Now, somehow, she’s even happy to go to this event if you keep holding her hand like that.
If she asks, you will say yes.
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gorgeys · 8 months
Text
Come to get your fix? - (Margot Robbie x Reader)
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At an afterparty, you see Margot for the first time in a long time…
Margot Robbie x femsinger!reader
Warnings: slight age gap (Margot is 30ish, reader is 25ish), mentions of sex, just sexy vibes
A/N: this got a lot longer than it was supposed to be cuz I kinda got carried away with the beginning and the backstory but I hope you enjoy!
2.6k words
There were seven different Met Gala after parties, all of which you had been invited to, but of course you chose the only one that she would be attending.
Well, you really had no other choice.  You had to go to Dua Lipa’s party at Virgo on the Lower East Side.  You and Dua were close friends and all the biggest celebrities were going to be there.
And you were excited for the most part.  It was one of the few nights where you got to hang out with your most famous friends as you danced and drank the night away.
When you arrived, ditching your Chanel gown for a sheer, golden chain dress that resembled royalty, you dove right into the many greetings you’d have to make throughout the night.  Of course you got many congratulations on your new album which had easily risen to the top of the charts with several hit singles.  And, since you had released new tour dates only last night, several celebrities were already expressing their excitement over attending your LA shows.  You thanked them like always, being sure to compliment Zendaya on her new movie and thanking Rihanna for sending you a new package of Fenty Beauty products.
Only after at least an hour did you even find the bar.  You ordered your go-to cocktail and paid for whatever your team wanted to drink, exhaling a long sigh.  Your voice had already gotten scratchy and hoarse from the day’s events plus the long press tour you had endured the past few weeks.  You craved a moment to relax.
But not even a few seconds later did Jack Harlow appear behind you to question why you left him on read for the past three days.  Internally rolling your eyes, you mumbled a vague response while your eyes scanned the room for a distraction.  You only half listened to him as he tried to get in your pants once more, but you fully stopped paying attention when you finally found her.
There she was, sitting in a booth beside Cara Delevigne across the room.  You could tell she was looking for a way out of the situation from the way her shoulders were angled away from Cara and her nails tapped anxiously on the table.
You shamelessly stared, watching her eyes retreat from Cara’s face every once in a while to venture out into the crowd.  Her legs were crossed and she sat as straight as a pin like she always had.  You remembered how her perfect posture alone always made you feel small.  She carelessly flicked her blonde hair back away from her face, smiling at whatever part of the long, winded story Cara was on.
You told yourself so many times that you had moved on. It was a repetitive thought that pounded into your brain each night when you were partying in cities all over the world.  And sometimes it felt like you really did move on. You would naturally send a flirty wink to the cute girl at the bar or grind on the hot guy on the dance floor, enjoying the fruitful chase.
But each morning, when you woke up in an expensive hotel room beside a stranger, you always wished she was laying beside you instead.  It felt hopeless at times when you were stalking her Instagram or scrolling through your camera roll at the many, many pictures of you and her.
You only truly believed you had moved on when you met your most recent girlfriend.  She was finally the breath of fresh air you were looking for.  The thoughts of Margot soon felt far and few in between as a new woman consumed your everyday life.  She was beautiful and sweet and loving and everything you needed.  It was rare for one of your partners to even last more than a couple weeks since you had a reputation of being quite the maneater, but you were glad it did.  She was everything.
Until you were gaping at Margot from across the club.  You could barely remember your girlfriend’s name when blue eyes finally met yours.  They were piercing, like you remembered, and they seemed to look right through you, even from the other side of the room.  Her smile melted as she realized who she was looking at.
You took your eyes off of her for a moment as you accepted your drink from the bartender.  You thanked him and glanced back.  To your satisfaction, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you.  You lifted the glass to your lips and took a teasingly slow slip without breaking eye contact. You watched her take a deep breath, slightly pursing her lips, as she silently contemplated how to handle you.  Oh, how you loved to be handled by her.
Her attention was stolen for a moment as Cara excused herself from the table.  Margot sent her a forced smile and a slight wave before she was lost in the crowd.
You had been dreading this moment for weeks, the inevitable moment when you’d meet her sculpted face that always begged you to come closer.  But now that it was happening, it almost felt euphoric.
“Get lost, Jack,” you said, shoving his shoulder out of your way. He groaned but didn’t protest.  You had set your path of destruction and now there was no stopping you.
You focused on making long, smooth strides in your tall heels and swaying your hips a bit more than usual as her eyes wandered your incoming figure.  Her face was stoic but her gaze was so familiar.  It always made you want to impress her, to be extra good for her.  To be wanted by her was a better feeling than any number one album or one-night lover.  You were glad your dress didn’t leave much for the imagination.
And then, after cutting through the dance floor, you were there, placing your hand upon the table as you slid into the seat beside her.  You pressed your thigh into hers, the only thing between them being the golden chains of your dress.  The rounded booth kept the two of you secluded from the other happenings of the club.
Although you were beside her, you had each turned your heads to match one another, face to face.  Her eyes had never left you and now you could feel her breath against the sensitive skin of your upper lip.
“Hi,” she said.  You were envious of how confident she sounded with your face inches from hers.  Your only relief was the faint quirk of her lips.  You couldn’t tell if it was well-intentioned or mischievous.
“Hi,” you whispered breathlessly, leaving your lips slightly open.  She seemed to take the bait as her eyes devoured your glossy, inviting lips.
“Come to get your fix?” she teased, sliding her tongue across her top lip.  It was something she always used to say to you when you sneaked into her trailer or violently tugged her into the bathroom.
It reminded you of the times when her soft fingers molded your body into whatever piece of pottery she wanted you to be.  The lick of her lips reminded you of all the times her tongue rewarded you afterward.
You clicked your own tongue against the roof of your mouth.
“Something like that,” you mumbled, almost annoyed by all the memories she awakened.
“I was surprised,” she began, her nails skimming the chains along your hip, making a high-pitched noise.  You tried not to show how the closeness of her fingers made you feel.  “I didn’t see you with anyone.”
She was obviously referring to the fact that you hadn’t brought a date to the gala.  Of course, knowing your long history, she had expected you to have someone young and new by your side.  After all, TMZ had claimed you were dating four different people in the last two weeks.
You weren’t surprised by her prying.  She always cut right to the chase whenever she was with you.  But you were a little taken aback that she had asked it so outright considering how things had ended between you.
“Well, I was surprised I didn’t see you with anyone.”  You couldn’t help the accusatory attitude that dripped from your voice.
“Hmm,” she hummed with a small smile as if she was expecting that response.  She peered down at her hand as it climbed the chains to sit comfortably atop your thigh.  
It was her “date” that had ruined your “relationship” in the first place.  By “date,” I mean husband and by “relationship,” I mean affair.
It was your first acting gig and in a blockbuster movie at that.  Before you had even introduced yourself, you locked eyes with her across the table at the first script reading and you knew you were hers.
But when she began shooting seductive glances from across the set, you assumed your eyes were playing tricks on you.  When she began grabbing onto you anytime you were in arms reach, you assumed she was just one of those touchy people.  And even that one time when she asked you to “be a good girl” and grab her a water, you just assumed it was a thing she said, even if it made your chest feel tight and your thighs squeeze together.
Because, after all, she was an older, straight, married woman.  Or at least that’s what you thought.
It wasn’t until she got you alone in her trailer, pushed you onto the couch, and attacked you with kisses that she made it clear.  From that moment on, you were her secret and she had to be yours. It wasn’t ideal, but it was still as perfect as could be.  Until it wasn’t.
Before she had even made an advance on you, you knew you were bound to catch feelings.  But you weren’t expecting it to hit you like a load of bricks.  Nevertheless, you knew you were just some affair to her, some sex toy for her to play with, so it was easy to keep quiet and occasionally dream of what could be.
The real kicker was when, a couple days before shooting wrapped, she admitted she had fallen for you.  Your whole world lit up and came crashing down on you simultaneously.   
Hearing those words felt like hearing the song of the ice cream truck on a hot summer day: pure relief. You had loved her unwaveringly.
But what trumped that was the undeniable realization that you were only second to her.  Second to her husband and the life she had created with him.  She could never love you the way you loved her.
So, when promo for the movie was coming to an end, you had to give her the ultimatum. She had put off the decision for as long as possible.  That was until you confronted her in her hotel room in a wreck of tears and rage.
You weren’t surprised, but disappointed when you weren’t her choice.  She had begged you to stay, to spend one more night with her, but you left in a disheveled hurry, refusing to let her see the effect she had on you.
Sometimes, when you lie awake at night, you wish she had never told you she loved you.  Then maybe it would have been easier to walk away and forget about her.  It would have been easier to accept that she was just using you for a couple good fucks.  But here you were, sitting beside her, rehashing your inevitable heartbreak because she was always so irresistible and she loved you
She looked back up at you, pushing her face even closer to yours.  Her smile grew when she saw your lips tightly pressed together and your eyebrows furrowed.  You were always so bad at hiding your frustration from her.
“I left him,” she said, squeezing your thigh.  You could see the excitement within her, begging for a release.
Meanwhile, you felt dizzy.
“Wh-What do you mean you left him?”
“I mean that I left him,” she repeated, smiling wider at your shocked expression.  You were sure you looked so stupid, almost like a dead bug with your eyes wide and your jaw hanging open.  “Just waiting to finalize the papers.”
“Oh my god,” was all you could manage.  Your hand came up to your mouth, covering the gaping hole.  “Oh my god.”
It was the words you had always wanted to hear but at the most unexpected time.  Her hypnotizing smile made your head spin as the colors of the club swirled together in your peripheral.
“I just-I don’t understand.  Why…now?”
She shot you a slightly confused look, as if the answer was obvious, but a lot of time had passed and you finally needed her to be clear.
She used her free hand to remove your hand from over your mouth and drop it into your lap.  Then she firmly grasped your chin, ensuring your eyes never left her candid ones.  Her touch shot warmth up your cheeks and down your neck, just the shock you needed to wake you from your daze.
“Because I know I want you.  And I tried being without you but I just…I can’t,” she confessed, the words scrambling out of her throat as if they had been trying to for days.
Your heart swelled in your chest at her pure sincerity.  Instinctively, you wanted to jump into her arms, to let her have you in every way.  But that little bit of insecurity still creeped up your spine.  The insecurity she had created when she chose him all those months ago.
“Are-Are you sure?”
She only laughed.  Honey may as well have been dripping from her lips as the sound was so sweet.  Every sound that left her lips was angelic.
“I’ve been thinking about this every day since you left.  I’ve never been more sure about anything.”
Her hand left your thigh to tuck a few pieces of your loose hair behind your ear, her hand lingering on the side of your neck.  You felt like you were on fire and she reveled in the way the heat flooded your irises.
But then you felt like you were forgetting something, something important.
“I have a girlfriend, Mar,” you suddenly said, your fingers wrapping lightly around the forearm of the arm that held your chin.
Margot certainly wasn’t expecting that confession this late in the conversation.  But your relationship couldn’t have been too serious if your new girlfriend wasn’t there, hanging off your arm.  She proceeded without caution.
“Well, I don’t see her anywhere,” she said, tilting your head downward with the pull of her hand, forcing you to stare up at her through hooded eyes.  She always adored when you looked at her from that angle, especially when she was knuckle deep inside of you.
You don’t even really know why you said it.  You knew, girlfriend or not, you would always choose Margot.  And she knew that.
“So, you want me or not, baby?”  She pursed her lips in a fake pout, so close to yours.
You couldn’t control yourself and you heard yourself make a faint noise of unbridled temptation.  She seemed quite satisfied by that as her thumb rubbed small circles into your chin, the nail grazing your lip every once in a while.
You both already knew the answer.
“Yes, fuck, I want you,” you said, your voice the most confident it had been all night but still the most desperate.
A feeling of pure bliss consumed your body.  Just hearing yourself say it made a smile creep onto your lips.
Margot quickly copied you.  She raised your chin to meet hers and wasted no more time.  Finally, finally, she kissed you.  She didn’t care who was watching as she firmly held your face, guiding you in every which way.
She was the only person in your universe and you were the only person in hers.
lmk if you guys want more Margot or any of her characters!! I will def write for Barbie, Harley, and even Naomi.  I will prob write something for Barbie soon so stay tuned!
And if you have a request I haven’t responded to, I’m really sorry it’s taken a long time but I am working on it!
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lustfulslxt · 28 days
Text
It’s You - Matt Sturniolo
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summary : matt’s secretly in love w y/n, she bails on him and later realizes it was a terrible decision because it's him
warnings : very slight angst, fluff, smut
a/n : based on these texts (1, 2)
-
It didn’t take long for you to get ready and head over to Matt’s. If you were being honest, your nerves were wrecked. You felt so guilty for ditching him over a boy. Matt didn’t deserve that. He’s only ever been the best to you, and you were nothing less than selfish.
Sitting in your car outside of his house, you take a deep breath. He’s your best friend, you guys will figure it out. You shut the car off and make your way to his front door, deciding to knock rather than walk in as per usual. You’re not waiting very long when the door is unlocked and opened.
Seeing Matt feels like a breath of fresh air. However, at the same time, your guilt increases.
“Matt, I’m so sorry. I swear I wish I could take it back.” You immediately rush out your words.
“Why’d you knock?” He questions with a quizzical expression.
You falter a bit, “I-uh, I didn’t want to overstep in case you’re mad at me.”
"Come on." He says, nodding his head back for you to come inside.
He steps aside, holding the door open for you. You quickly walk inside, your hand finding his almost instantly. You can't help it, the fear of losing him urging you to bring him in closer. He looks down at your connected hands, his heart racing at the simple touch. He squeezes your hand tighter, pulling you up the stairs with him.
Your stomach flutters at the gesture, your mind racing with so many thoughts, yet nothing at the same time. You follow him back into his room, shutting the door behind you. He kicks his shoes off and lies back on his bed, beckoning you over. You copy his action before sitting beside him.
"So." Matt mutters, shooting a quick glance at you.
"About before." You start, a frown immediately pulling to your lips at the thought. "I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I was just so caught up in the fact that he was into me, I tried to do whatever he wanted to make it work. So, when he wanted to get together that weekend, I did. I never should've cancelled on you; I regret it so much. I'm really sorry, Matt."
He looks down at the floor, biting his inner cheek. "You really upset me."
Your frown deepens from his words, "I know, and you have every right to feel that way. I wish I could go back and undo it. You didn't deserve that. There's not much I can say, because I don't want to just give you excuses. It was wrong of me. I know you worked hard to get those tickets, and I truly am sorry."
"So, you're not seeing him anymore?"
You shake your head with wide eyes, "No, definitely not."
He gives you a small smile, "Good."
You squint your eyes at his response, before he's spreading his arms for you. You grin, crawling over and lying in his arms, squeezing for dear life.
"Any tighter and I'll explode." He chuckles in a low whisper.
You softly loosen your grip with a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I just don't want to lose you."
He sighs, "You're not gonna lose me, kid. Not now, not ever."
“I’m sorry, Matt.” You whisper, glancing up at him. “Honest.”
He brushes the hair from your face, staring down at you with a gentle look on his face. “I know.”
The two of you are met with a silence, but a comfortable one. Being with Matt always washes your worries away. He makes everything better without even having to put much effort, yet he always does. He gives you his all every single second of every day. You don’t know what you’d do without him.
“Do you wanna talk about what happened with your date?” He questions, running a hand through your hair as your head lies on his chest.
“I guess I just realized he’s not the man I want.” You admit after a moment of pondering.
“What does that mean?”
You turn your head, meeting his gaze. He has a curious expression and you can’t help but stare, lovingly. You’ve always found him so beautiful.
“I don’t know.” You lie, laying your head back down.
His hand moves around your face, grasping your chin to turn you back towards him. “Tell me.”
You’re so close that you can feel his breath fan against your face as he speaks. His bright blue eyes bore into yours with such intensity you find it hard to catch your breath. It’s like he’s put a spell on you. You’re suddenly in this trance and you feel the need to spill everything.
Your hand meets his cheek, softly caressing it as you contemplate admitting your truths. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for possible rejection. “It’s you.”
His heart starts beating faster from those two little words, but he needs confirmation. “Me?”
“You, Matt. You’re the man I want.” You finally say out loud, almost feeling a literal weight taken off of your shoulders for finally letting it out.
Matt feels like he's dreaming. He never would've guessed you'd ever say that, but he can't help the cheesy smile that plasters itself on his face. Your worried eyes glimmer at his reaction, hoping it's something good.
"Why do you think I tried so hard to get you those tickets?" He whispers, his lips almost grazing yours with every word.
"Say it." You whisper back.
"You know, Y/N." He breathes.
"I need you to say it."
"It's you." He repeats your previous words, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. "It's always been you."
Your lips turn upwards, flashing your pearly whites as you smile at him. Without another thought, Matt's hand tightens around your jaw, pulling you into him. His lips meet yours in a hard kiss, like any second you'll disappear. Your lips tingle from the feeling of his on yours, metaphorical sparks flying.
Your hand meets the side of his face, your fingertips brushing through his hair as your palm caresses his cheek. The kiss deepens as he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring it like it's all he's ever known.
His hands trail down your body, squeezing every curve, making you softly moan into the kiss. He breaks away, his eyes wide and suddenly a lot darker than before. He swiftly flips the two of you over, hovering over you with one leg in between yours and holding himself up on his hands. He drops to one of his elbows, using the opposite hand to trace your bottom lip. His hand travels lower, closing around your neck in a soft grip as his lips meet yours again.
His tongue glides over yours so deliciously, humming into your mouth at the taste of you. You can feel his erection growing against your thigh, igniting a fire in your stomach. The desire that was put off for so long burns brighter, heat forming between your legs.
His lips part from yours, instantly trailing down your jaw and to your neck. He licks and sucks, nibbling the sensitive skin, eliciting soft whines from you that go straight to his dick. His hands slide under your shirt, gripping your warm skin, slowly moving upwards towards your breasts.
He pulls away with red, swollen lips, "Do you want this?"
"So bad." You beg, frantically nodding your head.
A smirk pulls to his lips as he continues working on your neck, letting his hands roam your body. They slide over your plush skin, gripping your boobs through your bra. You arch your back into his touch, heavy pants falling from your mouth. He pulls away and tugs at your shirt. You slightly lift yourself, allowing him to remove it, before he's pushing you back into the bed.
His bruised lips meet your skin in open mouthed kisses, leaving specks of saliva in his wake. Your skin burns beneath his touch, and you can't help but whine at the sensation, desperate for more. His teeth bite down on the skin of your collarbones, leaving marks behind. He continues doing this all over your torso, licking over said marks.
"Matt, please." You whine, bucking your hips up into his.
"Shh, I got you, baby." He hums into your skin as he pulls your bra straps down.
He nips at your shoulders, littering your skin with little bites and kisses. It's safe to say, you're drenched from his touch alone. You feel hot and bothered, needy for more stimulation at your core. His fingers grasp the little clip at the front of your bra, sliding it apart, freeing your breasts.
"Mmm." He groans, engulfing the soft mounds in his hands. "Always knew you had perfect tits."
His lips wrap around one nipple, tweaking the other with his finger. His tongue swirls over the sensitive bud, letting his teeth graze it, sensually. Your mind is hazy, and you're stuck in a daze as he repeats that action on your opposite nipple.
He grabs your waist, guiding you up to fully remove your bra, discarding it with your shirt. Before you lay back down, your hands are pulling at his shirt. He quickly lifts it over his head, tossing it aside, bringing you back into him, eager to feel your bare skin on his.
You bring his mouth to yours, feverishly kissing him as his hands continue feeling out your body. They travel lower and lower, grazing over the waistband of your pants. He glides over the fabric, moving to your thighs, squeezing the plush skin. You clench around nothing, craving to be filled.
He pulls away, eyes boring into your face as he gauges your reaction. His hand slowly trails up your leg, pressing into your covered heat. You close your eyes, taking your bottom lip in your teeth, holding back the sound that threatened to slip. A cocky smirk plasters on his lips as he works your bottoms down, leaving you bare as he pulls them off your feet.
He spreads your legs, admiring your glistening pussy on display just for him. The thought of you being just for him makes his cock throb with need. His fingers prod at your folds, your juices instantly drenching him with how aroused you are. Soft moans emit from your mouth as he slides his hand up and down your center.
"Need you inside me, please." You breathe, your hand latching onto his wrist.
"Are you sure?" He asks, eyeing you up and down.
"Please." You beg once more.
He nods, his hands immediately working his belt off. He unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down, along with his boxers. His hard cock bounces back up, throbbing for attention. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, your pussy clenching once again.
Matt scoots forward just a bit, getting between your legs with ease. He places his hand by your head as he hovers over you, holding his member in his opposite hand. He drags it through your folds, coating it in your arousal. He aligns himself with your sopping entrance, easily slipping in due to how wet you are.
"Oh fuck." You whine from the sensation, your eyes squeezing shut.
His breathing gets heavier as he slowly sinks deeper into you, filling you up so perfectly. Your hands grip his biceps as he bottoms out, feeling as if he sucked the air out of your lungs. Your pussy hugs around him so tightly, he's struggling to keep it together.
As soon as you adjust, he's slowly pumping in and out of you, pulling numerous moans from your lips. His strokes are deep and hard, yet slow and sensual.
"Been wanting to make this pussy mine for so long, fuck." He moans in a raspy voice as he continues thrusting into you.
He turns his head, kissing your wrist as your nails dig into his shoulder. He takes your opposite hand and intertwines it with his, squeezing hard. Euphoria overtakes your body with every thrust, eyes rolling into the back of your head from the feeling.
Your mouth falls open, lewd moans slipping from it as the pleasure builds. The knot in your stomach forms quickly with the way he's fucking into you so deliciously, leaving you clenching around him.
"Feels s-so good." You cry out, your face scrunching up in pleasure.
Your skin feels hot beneath his, it's almost hard to catch your breath. You feel a way you've never felt before.
"Tell me I make you feel better than anyone else, baby." He groans, snapping his hips into yours. "Say it."
You whine out from his words and his hard strokes, unable to form coherent sentences. "Feel better, oh my god. You, it's you. Fuck, I'm so close."
He moans at your words and continuous clenching around his cock, his hips sputtering from the feeling. He's been yearning for this exact moment for as long as he can remember, and it's better than he could've ever imagined.
"You're mine. All mine." He grunts with every thrust, driving you over the edge.
"Yes, yes, yes." You cry, as you come undone. "All yours, baby."
His mouth falls slack as he feels your juices pour out of you, producing a squelching sound with every pump. Your grip on his hand tightens as he continues fucking into you. He stares at your face, the way you furrow your eyebrows and bite your lip in overwhelming pleasure bringing him to the edge.
He lets out a guttural moan, shuddering as he empties his load into you, filling you up with his seed. He continues pumping, pulling out when it becomes too much for you both.
His hair slicks to his forehead as he leans back on his knees, watching his cum ooze out of you. The sight alone makes his dick twitch. Both of you are panting heavily, trying to compose yourselves from the exertion. You both lock eyes with goofy grins, instantly giggling with one another as if he wasn't just buried inside of you.
"I'm yours, huh?" You mumble with a dopey smile.
"And don't you fucking forget it."
a/n : shucksss, lazy ending i'm tired. not proofread, what's new? sorry for the wait, i lack motivation sooo much. anyways, hope it didn't disappoint. if it did, ig go cry ab it idk. smut one the poll bc we're all sluts, so that's what you got!
taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @mattsfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @knowingnothingnoel @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @strnlsblog @ilovethesturniolotriplets @sturnolio-luvs @chrissgirlsstuff
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ilycosy · 18 days
Text
❝ HE LOVES ME , HE LOVES ME NOT ! ❞ | MATTHEO RIDDLE
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pairing : mattheo riddle x slytherin!reader , ron weasley x reader (platonicish)
summary — having mattheo riddle as your best friend was difficult, especially when you've been in love with him since the first year. not to mention all the people he's constantly with, you're planning on moving on when you catch wind of a gryffindor party: perfect for a last ditch effort.
warnings : fake dating (not w mattheo) , messy teen relationships , jealousy , ron appreciation <3 , theo n enzo r a little sick of mattheo , pansy n reader r the besties ever
aノn — how do u guys feel abt a part 2 of this ?? i feel like it's a little incompleted but im not entirely sure ... also ron haters dni bc this fic isn't for u <//3
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you couldn't remember the last time you had actually talked to mattheo. every time he had started up a conversation with you recently, it ended with him telling you about his (quite boring) sex life. and you were rather sick of it, you were supposed to be his best friend.
pansy had told you that he was too stupid to realize he liked you, and maybe you should just ask him out, but every single time you gain that courage— he's got another girl hanging off his arm. each girl lasts a week, maybe two at most but it still stings.
this week, mattheo had a girl. she was beautiful, really, seemingly sweet too. she would constantly wave at you and smile like she wasn't jealous at all, which you assumed she was right. if mattheo really didn't want to be with you, you'd just have to move on.
now, because you hadn't been talking to him recently, your party invites also dried up. you were hot, everyone knew that, but you were awkward and flighty with people. which is exactly why you latched onto mattheo.
many of his exes had called you clingy, so you eventually just gave up engaging with him first— officially starting your 'situationship detox' is what pansy called it.
you barely attempted moving on before you got a small piece of paper slipped over to you to pass to a hufflepuff girl, a gryffindor party invite. the gryffindor boy just awkward gestured to her, but you glanced at another boy.
bright red hair, freckles, and a little bit of quidditch dirt still smudged on his face. ron weasley, he wasn't exactly the most academically gifted, but he was sweet and funny (much to your friends dismay).
ron looked at you with a confused look when you didn't pass the note, but you had other plans. "can i come?" you asked, trying to sound confident and chill while your stomach churned at the idea of being rejected by the gryffindors, that'd be humiliating.
"uh," he said, clearing his throat before nodding. "yeah, the password is tapeworm?"
for some reason, you felt rather excited when you told pansy that you'd be going to the gryffindor party— you had never gone to a party without being invited by your friends first!
"babe," she cut your excited rambling off, looking at you with a concerned look. "you asked weasley. weasley if you could go to a fucking party?" she double checked like it was shocking, but you felt a spark of offense.
you furrowed your eyebrows, "he's sweet," you say, rummaging through your shared closet for an outfit. "you just don't understand because everyone's so obsessed with blood status, he's always been true to himself." you defended.
she went quiet for a couple minutes, watching you spread out dresses that are a little too modest for her liking. "well, if you're going to be going with weasley, then you need to show him how slytherins are better than gryffindor girls." she said with a smirk, patting your back as she pulled out different dresses.
"you gonna slut it up with me?" she asks, showing off a small red dress.
you scoff but take the dress, holding it in your hands as you admire the sheer black lace covering the deep red. "slut it up," you say with an eyeroll, looking back at her with a small smile. "you're going to be all over blaise, be honest."
you didn't bother telling mattheo about the party, assuming that he'd either be single again and looking for another one there or be arguing with his current girlfriend in the common room.
you didn't even know that he was constantly telling theo about how you barely spoke to him anymore, "she won't even fucking look at me theodore! i don't know what i did wrong, she's fucking insane or something!" he would say, dramatically flailing his hands while speaking.
only for theo to look at enzo with an annoyed look, enzo returning it with a brief head shake and ignoring the temper tantrum by reading. mattheo would eventually calm down and say that he just doesn't get why you're like this, then he'd repeat his idiotic cycle.
he really was blindsighted when he saw you at the party, he had just broken up with his girlfriend— apparently she wasn't all the nice after all, hooking up with another ravenclaw while being with him. he was already annoyed with that whole fiasco, so seeing you with weasley?
he saw red. he barely remembers turning to enzo before trying to approach you, only to be stopped by theo grabbing him and telling him to walk it off.
you, on the other hand, were having the time of your life. sure, harry and hermione took a little bit to warm up to you even being around them, but it seems like they're accepting the casual conversation that you're providing, which is a win for you.
ron has a hesitant arm around your shoulders, keeping a respectful distance while still being touchy. everyone saw it as amazing flirting, both of you guys seemed to be hitting it off greatly.
but you just felt awkward. he was lovely and amazing company, but the lack of chemistry was suffocating you. and he felt it too, his eyes drifting to another person every once in a while, wishing it was different.
maybe that's why you proposed something while tipsy, giggling into ron's ear as you talked about fake dating. whispering the silly joke like it was intimate, and maybe if he wasn't also tipsy he would've told you it was a bad idea.
but he didn't, and now you're bundled up in a sweater with a big r on it.
it could be worse, and you aren't complaining. even though it's fake, it was easy to be around him. he was thoughtful and constantly looking for that reassurance that everything was fine with you, it felt refreshing.
you missed mattheo though, and you confinded in him about it. before others arrived at the designated tree, you whispered into his shoulder about how it hurt that you never seemed good enough for him. ron listened, and he cared.
his freckled hands rubbed your side as you vented, comforting you while he whispered back about how he was so insecure about where he stood within his friends and family. you related to each other, and it was a bond you didn't think you could have.
he pretended to never notice how mattheo clenched his jaw and fists whenever the two of you passed by. while he knew that this was to make him jealous, he felt a little vindictive. how could someone like mattheo riddle hurt such a sweet person like you?
mattheo was spiraling, constantly watching from the sidelines as you and ron 'seemingly fell in love out of fucking nowhere' as he said to theo. he constantly ranted about how you'd never stoop that low, dating a blood traitor.
until enzo spoke for once, lifting his head from his book at the library during a study session. "maybe you didn't know her as well as you thought." he said offhandedly, ignoring the way the whole group fell into silence after.
mattheo didn't speak, just slowly sitting down in a seat next to draco. his cousin looks at him with a sympathetic smile before kind of shrugging, basically saying enzo wasn't wrong.
he didn't know you? that was impossible, you guys were best friends. he barely ate at dinner that night, just watching you laugh and eat with pansy while she gossiped about her and blaise. you were with ron weasley, and he was mad, he didn't know you, but why was he mad?
the next day, he couldn't stop himself from pairing up with you in potions. feeling himself get almost embarrassed and shy when he asked you to partner up with him before ron could, he felt a small victory when you chose him before telling the red head next time with a cheery tone.
the entire potions class was spent with you walking on eggshells with him while he desperately tried to get to reknow you, he felt ashamed when he asked about the latest album of your old favorite band only for you to respond that you don't really listen to them anymore.
he sulked the next class, but mattheo wasn't exactly one to back down— he was going to get you back, in more ways than one.
the following week was used as a way for him to worm himself back into your life like an 'annoying zit' as pansy called him, she did love mattheo but she loved you more and that's all that mattered to her.
ron even asked you about it, "say," he mutters as he leans over your shoulder while you're studying, "why's riddle suddenly all over you?" he asks, genuinely curious though his wording was harsh.
you took a moment to recollect yourself, knowing that he didn't mean it that way. "i don't know," you say softly, taking notes about a plant you could care less about. "he's a little odd sometimes, im sure he'll get bored."
but he didn't get bored, in fact it seemed that mattheo only seemed to go harder. constantly taking any moment to steal you away from not only ron, but other people now (not pansy of course, she'd kill him).
draco trying to talk to you about astronomy? mattheo suddenly needed help with defense. blaise needed to borrow something of yours? mattheo needs you to listen to him rant. slughorn even needed you after class, and mattheo was there mean mugging him while waiting for you.
ron talked about it to harry, laying in his friends bed while he read. "he's bloody obsessed with her!" he says a little loudly, almost waking neville.
"i know ron i know, your girlfriend is being hit on by riddle. im sure it'll be fine," he says, stroking his red locks and twirling it. "you guys are basically married with how you act, nothings going to take her away." he reassures ron.
he just rolls his eyes, pausing harry"s hand to look at him. "that's the thing," he says frustratedly, chewing his bottom lip. "we aren't dating, and im just nervous that she'll get hurt again by him."
seamus listened with wide eyes as harry questioned ron, whisper yelling is still yelling to a light sleeper. and seamus finnigan wasn't the best secret keeper.
it only took a couple days for the whole school to know, constant berating from the gryffindors because they thought it was your fault and then the slytherins cheering you on for allegedly breaking ron's heart.
you didn't even have time to talk to ron about what happened since none of the other gryffindors would let you around him, so you were officially and totally alone.
you sat curled up in the abandoned girls bathroom, crying as moaning myrtle cried with you. you almost started venting to her before the door was pushed open, your old best friend staring at you with wide eyes.
"mattheo?" you question, hurrying to wipe your wet eyes as he approached you. "what're you doing here?" you tried to ask, hiccuping slightly.
he just shrugged, sitting down next to you as he wrapped an arm around your waist. "i know you didn't hurt weasley," he says quietly, pulling you close. "you wouldn't do that to somebody."
you could almost cry with happiness, hiccuping again as you smiled and laughed humorlessly. "it was all fake," you confessed, feeling embarrassed but like you just needed to admit it to somebody. "me and ron did it to make people jealous, and i don't know if it even worked so it was useless and im just so tired of people being so, fucking, mean to me about this i–"
he gently shushed you, rocking you back and forth while whispering that you didn't need to explain yourself to anybody. he pressed a soft kiss onto the crown of your head without realizing it, stroking your back.
when you had began to calm down, he awkwardly cleared his throat to ask an even more awkward question. "so uh, who were you even trying to make jealous?" he asked, glancing down at you.
you just rolled your eyes and shook your head with shame, before just whispering in a defeated tone that it was him. you felt the shame rise but you couldn't let it out, it was just too much.
"are you serious?" he asked, feeling relief and surprise rush through his entire body.
"yeah," you say, not looking at him as you shake your head and scoff. "i know it's pathetic but you don't understand i just felt–" the only thing you actually felt was chapped lips against yours.
mattheo fucking riddle was kissing you, his hands delicately holding your face like you were going to slip away from him again.
"don't worry about it, princess," he whispered, pushing his hair out of his eyes so he could look at you fully while calling you a name you havent heard since the third year. "it's not pathetic."
you stare at him in shock, glancing at the lip gloss smeared on his lips— this time from you, and not from other girls.
"are you sure?" you ask with an awkward laugh, feeling a nervous giddiness rise in you. "because i played that one stupid flower game with ron about you." you confess before you realize, accidently oversharing like always.
but mattheo just laughed, kissing from your forehead down to your chin and slowly across your jaw. "he likes me, he likes me not?" he asked, and you could feel the smile against your skin.
"i played it a couple times," he mumbled, pressing his lips against yours again. not wanting to hear the teasing you were about to do.
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stevie-petey · 5 months
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we don't talk about it (we don't have the time)
﹂ season one of “come home”
being dustin henderson's older sister and jonathan byers' best friend is usually an uneventful affair, but when will byers goes missing and a girl with a shaved head claims she has super powers, your duties as a sister and a best friend become a lot more complicated. (it also makes your feelings suddenly complicated, which you're choosing to ignore). (and steve harrington definitely isn't helping). (as usual).
episode one: the vanishing of will byers - jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).
episode two: the weirdo on maple street - you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.
episode three: holly, jolly - you and jonathan talk it out and things are better (spoiler alert: they aren't), you somehow end up agreeing with steve harrington ?? then you have a minor breakdown in front of the kids and once again fail to prevent them from experiencing more trauma.
episode four: the body - you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.
episode five: the flea and the acrobat - you and dustin have a long overdue Sibling Moment, at will's funeral you and jonathan exchange information and surprise ! it's all horrible news ! nancy has awful timing and when you leave her alone with jonathan one damn time you and steve end up trauma bonded on her front porch #bffs.
episode six: the monster - so nancy and jonathan are a Thing now and you really just need a good nap, the three of you go shopping for monster hunting supplies (which honestly isn't the weirdest thing you've done this week), an old man sells you a sentimental knife, and steve kind of accidentally kidnaps you with a sexy black eye.
episode seven: the bathtub - your brother basically places himself on the fbi's most wanted list and el flips a van with her mind, now you have to create a giant salt tub because of course you do, nancy tries Talking About It but hasn't she read the title ? you don't have the time. sidenote: you've somehow become a steve defender during these trying times. typical. meanwhile: steve's inner thoughts are pathetic.
episode eight: the upside down - drinking game time ! take a shot every time jonathan tries ditching you or every time you almost die at the byers house, you find out that steve really is an athlete and tbh it's hot, but you know what's even hotter ? saving hawkins and reaching a tentative compromise with steve after he loans you $5 for snacks. after, jonathan makes a promise you really hope he can keep.
⌑ set between seasons 1 and 2
﹂ episode nine: the beginning - BONUS EPISODE TIME ! steve becomes bookstrorindary's favorite loyal costumer, jonathan buys you a bug for christmas, you freak out your poor coworker alex, and suddenly steve is really hot and you're feeling so many feelings (bad ! it's all bad !).
⌑ status: FINISHED
⌑ season one title based on this song x
⌑ blurbs set within "come home" can be found here x
⌑ “come home” season masterlist
*note: this is a part of my stranger things rewrite, “come home”, and other seasons can be found linked above :)
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