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pasukiyo · 6 months

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HANDLE IT

mike schmidt x f!teacher!reader word count; 2,417 warnings; once again, no plot, just porn <3 summary; mike has a look. that's never a good sign.

“Follow Mrs Davis and her class for lunch!”

Mike watched from his seat behind the teacher’s desk as his girlfriend saw her class out the door, hand on the handle and pulling it closed behind them, making sure to twist the lock while she did. The corners of his mouth twitched as she sighed and fell back against the door, blowing a strand of loose hair out of her face.

“Long day?” Mike asked and she narrowed her eyes over at him, her lips quirked in a tired grin. “Don’t even get me started,” she grumbled as she pushed herself off of the door, heels clicking against the tile as she made her way back to her desk.

“Abby hasn’t been a problem, I hope?” Mike cocked an eyebrow to his hairline as she leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, settling herself down in her chair. She rolled her eyes at this, “you always make it seem like she should be causing trouble,” she tittered. “No, Abby’s always great.”

She watched as Mike reached for the floor beside him, a plastic takeout bag in his hand and she grinned, wiggling in her seat as he began to unravel the knot in the handles. “Sooo… what did you bring me?” She asked, letting the smell of what she swore was tomato sauce waft through her nostrils.

“New Italian place opened in the mall. Figured we could try it out,” he replied as he handed her one of the takeout boxes in which she ripped the lid off of, grinning over at Mike. “Spaghetti with meatballs. You know me so well.”

She leaned forward as he handed her the plastic fork to press a kiss against his lips and Mike smiled, practically chasing after her mouth again when she pulled away. He watched as she spun the spaghetti around her fork, as she took a bite and moaned at the taste.

Suddenly, Mike’s jeans felt very tight.

“What is this place called? It’s amazing,” she moaned, chewing behind her fingers as she turned to glance over at Mike. “Ten out of ten. This might even be better than your spaghetti and meatballs.”

Mike, although distracted by something else entirely, furrowed his brows at this, tossing his hands up. “Hey,” he said. “Thought you loved my spaghetti and meatballs.”

She shrugged, “they’re alright.” Mike playfully shoved her shoulder and she tried to bite back a chuckle, glancing back over to him. “Hey, I don’t see you eating spaghetti and meatballs, why don’t you try and find out?” She laughed, taking a bite from a meatball as Mike pressed his lips together, curved into a grin as he shook his head. “Nah, I’m not that hungry right now.”

She raised a brow and tilted her head to eye the other takeout box in the plastic bag. “Mike, you haven’t even touched your food,” she tittered, eyeing him incredulously. She narrowed her lids, “you have a look.”

The corner of Mike’s mouth twitched— she was catching on. “I don’t have a look.”

Her face fell and she dropped her fork in the to-go box, eyebrow cocked. “Yes, you do.”

Mike leaned back in his seat and locked his fingers together on his lap, shrugging as he turned his head to face her. “Enlighten me, what look do you think I have?”

For a fleeting moment, her gaze lowered to the very evident tent in his jeans, her thighs subconsciously clenching together at the sight, cheeks growing warm when he chuckled. She looked away, soothing her palms up and down the length of her skirt and Mike watched, teeth sunken into the inside of his cheek. A scenario played in the forefront of his mind, fantasizing about ripping the skirt clean off her legs and taking her right there on top of her desk had him balling a fist, squeezing his thumb so tight, it almost felt like it’d pop.

“Mike…”

“What?” He murmured, leaning in closer, brushing away the hair curtaining away the side of her face back behind her ear. She melted like wax at his touch, as if her fingertips were flames. Her skin burned so hot now, she feared she actually would melt into a pool of magma on the floor below.

“Here?” She whispered as he rolled his chair closer, his breath a phantom looming over her flesh, sending shivers slithering down the coil of her spine. Mike peered up into the sides of her irises, “why not?”

His lips pressed against the delicate skin just below her ear and she trembled, panicking eyes darting to the door she had thankfully locked. “I’ll give you a million reasons why not,” she murmured as his kisses trailed down to the curve of her shoulder, the scruff on his chin and just above his lips deliciously burning her skin.

“I can be sneaky,” he whispered against the valley between her neck and shoulder, his lips a crescent against her skin when he playfully nipped her flesh between his teeth there. She jolted and hissed, clenching her thighs together once more as the familiar slick of warmth burned the pit of her belly. “If somebody walks in, we’re both dead,” she murmured as his palm gripped and soothed down the length of her thigh, kneading at her knee, teasing her, taunting her.

“Relax, babe,” he breathed a chuckle against the crook of her neck. “I just want a taste, that’s all. Wouldn’t want you to get all fucked out before the day is over.”

His low, raspy words had her reeling, her head in a frenzy and teetering on the edge of a mindset she knew she was at risk of falling down into. “Screw you, Mike,” she muttered through gritted teeth as he grinned, placing one last kiss against the breadth of her shoulder before sinking down to his knees on the floor, hanging his head so that he could fit beneath the desk.

Her heart drummed against her chest as he slithered his way between her legs, hands on her knees as slowly he parted them, as if he were unwrapping a present on Christmas Day. Through heavy eyelids, she peered down at him just as a silent curse fell from his mouth, teeth burrowed into the plush of his bottom lip as the pads of his thumbs rubbed circles into the inside of her knees.

“You’re soaked clean through your panties,” he chuckled and she burned brighter, sweat already beginning to bead at her hairline and her chest heaving to the unsteady beat of her heart. His name fell from her lips in a whispered sigh as he reached forward with his right thumb, pressing the fat of it straight onto her clothed clit, her back arching up off of her chair as he traced an agonizingly slow and painful circle against it, sighing at the way her slick showed through the thin fabric of her underwear.

“Fffuck,” he grumbled beneath his breath, hiking the skirt that hugged her curves until they pooled at her hips, pushing her knees further apart until he had full access to everything. His gaze was like a laser, burning through the damp fabric of her panties straight through to her pussy. He eyed her like he was starved, like he’d go hungry if he didn't get himself a taste.

Mike hooked his middle and forefinger around the hem of her underwear and tugged, although with some resistance with how wet she was. She gasped when the fabric unstuck itself from her arousal, Mike’s lips falling agape as he tugged her panties all the way down her legs until they hooked around one single ankle. He pressed himself closer, wrapping his arms around her hips and with his palms to her ass, drawing her in even closer until she sat on the edge of her seat.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he marveled at the sight before him, admiring every single inch of her as if she were an artifact. She shuddered beneath his stare. “Mike,” she mewled through a shaky breath, “please.”

With those deep, rich chocolate brown eyes, he glimpsed up at her and she gazed back, wondering when his pupils ended and his irises started. His eyes glimmered with longing, with desire, with lust. She thought she’d come from just his stare alone.

“Have to stay quiet, hm?” He nodded up at her, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a kiss just above her clit, feeling it throb against his chin as she writhed, trying to suppress her mewl. She nodded, pressing her lips together as she briefly glanced up at the door then to the windows— she was so grateful she’d drawn the blinds earlier.

Their gazes never leaving one another, Mike carefully leaned down to press a tender kiss on top of her aching bud, her toes curling in, back arching off the back of her chair. One of her hands flung to the mess of dark tendrils atop his head, the other gripping the armrest of her desk chair. Mike pulled away again, the makings of a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Think you can handle it?” He asked and she whimpered, nodding, every ounce of dignity in her body long gone, thrown somewhere far away from right there.

“Just… please, Mike,” she whined, trying to keep her voice on the low as she gripped the roots of his hair tighter, inviting him back into her warmth, his arousal like a gloss on his lips. The crescent shape of his lips fell back against her clit as he pressed another kiss to it, electricity flowing through her body and making her jolt once more.

Mike eyed her through hooded lids as he licked a stripe all the way from her entrance back up the underside of her clit, relishing in the way she’d tremble and press her lips together in a desperate attempt to silence her whimpers. The delectable taste of her arousal coated his tongue and simmered on his taste buds as if she were his ambrosia, and he hummed as he licked another line up her slit.

“Taste so damn good,” he practically growled against her cunt as he plunged his face back in, his lips around her clit and tongue swirling against the sensitive nub. Tears were streaming down the sides of her face now as she threw her head back, using every last ounce of strength inside her body to will her moans to stay at a minimum. All she could do was pray that nobody would come knocking on her classroom door now.

A string of curses, his name among the mix, tumbled from her lips as he sucked her clit, every swirl of his tongue coaxing her closer and closer to the edge. She was balancing on a tightrope now, teetering on bliss as his tongue trailed down to her entrance, slow but firm as it pushed its way in. Her fingers tightened in the mess of hair on his head, pulling harder, making him surge into her.

She could feel every inch of his tongue inside of her and he was so close, the bridge of his nose pressed deliciously down on her clit, sending her down into a spiral of pleasure. She squeezed her eyelids together so tight, she was seeing stars, a shimmering backdrop of glitter as he swirled his muscle inside of her, humming into her at her taste.

“Sh… shi… shit, Mike!” She gasped as he nodded his head, tongue swirling inside of her, the bridge of his nose rubbing up and down against her clit. Her eyes were rolling into the back of her hand, every move his tongue made and every bit of pressure his nose applied to her clit added more rubber bands to the ball pressing down against the pit of her belly, dangerously close to erupting. “I’m… I’m gonna come if you don’t… if you don’t stop.”

Mike blinked up at her and pulled away for breath, every inch of his face from the bridge of his nose down slick and shiny with her arousal. She felt herself clench at the mere sight as his chest heaved, chasing air back into his lungs, a smug smirk on his face. “I’m betting on it, babe,” he chuckled before diving back in, her pussy empty one moment and nearly full of his tongue the next.

His eagerness almost had her screaming, her nails scraping so hard against his scalp, somewhere in the back of her mind, she feared she’d draw blood. Mike hummed against her— he didn’t seem to mind so much.

Oh, how could he when he could sense she was so close? He could practically smell her orgasm, using every ounce of skill in his body to push her even closer to the edge, to knock her unsteady on top of that tightrope until it snapped below her altogether.

With her hand not tangled in his hair, she sank her teeth into the side of her hand to muffle the scream that ripped through her body, squeezing her eyelids shut even tighter as her body spasms, bones rattling in her release’s wake. Her orgasm thundered and cracked through her body like an earthquake, the sheer power of her release like a tempest. Her thighs squeezed around Mike’s head and he palmed at the sides of them as he swirled his tongue inside of her again and again, making sure not a drop of her went to waste.

He was practically drinking her, slurping every last drop until there was none left to be had. And only when that moment came did he pull away, breathless as he sat back on his heels below her desk, swiping at the slick dripping down his face with the back of his hand.

Mike gazed up at her curiously, her head still thrown back over the back of the chair, chest heaving up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. He chuckled as he pushed himself out from underneath her desk and up so that he could stand beside her, a palm cupping her cheek, the other aiding her head to sit normally on her shoulders. The pad of his thumb soothed over against her cheek, coaxing her out of her bleary state, her vision slowly beginning to clear again.

Mike tried to bite back his smile, “doing alright there?”

She huffed as her cheeks burned, “shut up, Mike.”

a/n; i ended up writing up this one in like 45 minutes while sitting in the bathtub LMAO y'all went absolutely crazy with the last mike fic, you literally broke my tumblr notifications 😭 glad to see so many others horny for josh in this movie too

TAGLIST !!

@bxbyyyjocelyn

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #michael afton #michael afton x reader #mike schmidt imagine

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dogtoling · 9 months

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"Short Post" on something that spawned in my brain this week while pondering ink tanks, and the concept that Inklings fill their weapons directly from their hand to the weapon handles.

Also based on that one sunken scroll that shows the Inkling's internal ink sac anatomy and a tube from the sac going to... their shoulder. (This is stupid and pointless and I've decided it either goes into the arm or the mouth or both and I think the arm makes sense)

The only weapon this really falls apart with are the dualies, which use both hands, but the dualies also have very small ink tanks so their requirements for ink might be met by just the natural increased ink flow on the skin (which I think would generally be stronger on the limbs).

Note that this could work totally well with both arms working like this; I just kept it to one arm only to mirror human handedness, the way Inklings seem to favor one hand in the game, the sunken scroll showing the ink sac tube primarily going to one side, and cephalopods really only having a siphon on one side (despite people often thinking they have two! They can move it; octopuses, specifically.)

Sources for this: - Specials, notably Splashdown and Booyah Bomb emitting ink from the palm of the hand as the main gimmick - NO tube between ink tank and weapons - like a 5-hour discord DM with @rassicas about how ink tanks make zero sense while i was also supposed to be paying attention at the mall - Like every ink-using creature in Splatoon EXCEPT INKLINGS fires ink from their mouth - Most weapons are held in the Inkling's right hand (shooters, largely) - Both Splashdown and Booyah Bomb use the right hand as well - my 1 brain cell - the sunken scroll showing the ink sac anatomy of the inkling pretending it goes to the arm instead of stopping at the shoulder

Also don't like and subscribe because i dont have youtube.

#squidthoughts #its been a while since i did one of these

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 1 year

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Yandere Best Friend pt 2

tw: self harm, mentions of violence, general deranged yandere shenanigans, angst

ageless blogs n minors DNI blease tq <3

part 1 here

my masterlist

this sucks bros i broke my fucken leg and i cant move, my cast is so itchy and i cant scratch and i feel nasty cause i cant shower

feeling bads, so thats why i churned part 2 out faster thn usual , its shorter than before but just need some angsty comfort atm

as uaual many errors cause i did not proofreasd

enjoy i hope

You left the exam hall a couple hours later. To find out that your dad left a total of seven missed calls. You thought someone fucking died.

Of course, you called back. Preparing for the worst.

Your father picked up the phone, he explained that it was your friend. He had a mental breakdown because you weren't there for the opening of his dream restaurant. Eventually though, he calmed down enough to come back into the building to return the phone, eyes noticeably dull and tired, worse than before. He never stopped trembling.

The three of them sat down and talked.

Neither of your parents knew you stopped contacting him. They thought everything was fine, so your friend couldn't fault them for that.

Your parents trusted your friend, so they gave him your phone number and told him basic information about you now. Such as, the country you're studying in and the course.

You felt a pang of guilt, but you had to move on. You understood that he was busy, it would probably do no good for you to try and reach out to him. You would just ruin his plan and distract him too much. At least, that was what you thought.

Usually, he would call every day. But that turns to once every three days. Then once a week. Then never.

It's true that he would not miss a single day to send you a sweet message, a reminder to practice self care and that you're very dear to his heart. Which would be then followed by an update to his progress, it was stressful to read what he was going through and that was all he talked about. You felt like his personal diary, he stopped asking about how things were going for you.

Since it doesn't seem to bother him you weren't replying because he would send his texts when the entire world is asleep, you stopped opening his texts too.

You wanted to tell him in person that you're moving out to pursue your studies and you were granted a student loan. A crushing student loan. But... You believe his ten minutes of free time a week is better used for his sleep. Or even going to the bathroom perhaps.

A day passes by another and in the end, you moved on without him. Without telling him. It just always slips your mind every time you see him brisk walking towards his beat up car with a stack of metal trays in his arms. They must be extremely heavy, you could see the veins bulging out of his forearms and forehead.

It was hard to watch his cheeks get sunken in, his hair going back to its' matted, unhealthy state, dark bags forming under his constantly bloodshot eyes. He looked like he aged a decade older from all the stress and pressure. But... He is working towards his dream and you're happy for him. It was great that he finally achieved what he wanted, he deserved all of its glory for working his ass off like that.

You held no ill will towards him, but you grew apart. He was so consumed with work that the friendship suffered in silence, there were no more fun hangouts together at the mall, you don't get to eat his cooking anymore (you didn't want to burden him by buying a tray, he already has too much to do), no more fun conversations about the silliest shit. It was just... Bank loans, revenue, expenses, investors, employees, employers, credit score, mortgages, taxes etcetera. The urgency and distress was also rubbing off you too, there were nights you woke up in a cold sweat because you had a nightmare that your hypothetical restaurant failed and you went into debt.

So you thought, he needed his time. You shouldn't really interfere with anything you don't understand. Your friend is already nose deep in the real world, you're not even close to it yet and you're not ready for it yet either. Therefore, you took the route most young adults take after getting a high school diploma: getting a bachelor's degree in some field of study that you probably don't even like.

You trudged onwards to the direction of your hostel. You need to get ready for your shift, money is a little tight now and you don't want to burden your parents too much. They're already sending a lot of money to support your living.

If your friend knew you were working hard for some extra money, his heart would break. It would be devastating news to him, no doubt, he would at least have a dozen freakouts and breakdowns. But you don't know that, yet.

As expected, your friend eventually called you. It was later than expected; it took him a week before he called your new phone number himself. He needed to calm down and collect his thoughts, as he knew that he might just drive you away if he comes barreling in with passionate yelling and sobbing over the phone. Plus, he also needed to focus on his new restaurant too, he can't just abandon his lifelong dream like that. How else is he going to make enough money to provide for you? He can't take back the money and time he invested in this now, all he can do is keep going and find some compromise.

It was tempting to go M.I.A. and hastily book a plane ticket to wherever you're studying. He was deeply yearning for your presence, he was desperate, he was clawing his arms and decorating them with nasty scars in an attempt to keep the urge at bay. He was extremely miserable but he had to keep going, to build that wonderful, cushiony foundation for you and him to fall back onto.

Everything he does, he does it for you.

He was polite, kind and pleasant during the first phone call you both had in two years. Though, there was a noticeable twinge of hurt in his mildly wavering voice. He still sounded like he's happy and relieved to hear you again.

The call started off with a greeting, then some small talk, then finally to the meat of the call;

Why didn't you tell me? He asked. It seems like he was fighting back his tears.

You didn't answer right away, you don't know what to say.

You could tell him the truth that he was too busy with his endeavors and you just don't feel like interfering by burdening him with "unnecessary information". However, you think that might wound him deeply as you're somewhat blaming him for your own actions.

You could lie... and tell him what, exactly? Either way, it would hurt him even more and there is probably going to be some resentment.

So, you apologized. You kept your reasoning brief and simple; you needed to move on. You acknowledged that whatever you did wasn't very nice of you, but you still had to proceed and you thought that it would be better that you didn't tell him.

There was a moment of silence between the both of you.

On the other side of the call, your friend was wracking his brain, trying to comprehend what you just told him. It came across as you not wanting to do anything with him anymore because you feel unprioritized, unimportant, inferior. Guilt and remorse was eating him up, he is putting all the faults onto himself.

He spiraled downwards in that call, spewing nonsense and absurd promises to destroy everything he has ever worked for just to have you back in his arms. Deranged negotiations involving the idea of blinding, deafening, mutilating or doing some sort of bodily or mental harm to himself to prove something; prove that he puts you above everything else and also to punish himself for neglecting you.

It was horrifying to hear your dear friend babble about putting himself into financial ruin for the sake for your forgiveness. He spoke of his accomplishments and advancements as they were disposable, as if it held no value compared to you.

This isn't normal, far from it, Your friend devolved so much to the point he was making demented pledges to kill and maim your enemies for you, and only you. To eviscerate the ones you dislike and send videographic proof of it, to disembowel his business associates to show that they mean absolutely nothing to him. Mind you, he was talking about real, breathing, living humans.

It was hard to fully grasp the insanity in his now incoherent words, he was muttering apologies and self hatred. Promises of severe self harm was also common in his mad speech. At one point, religion and superstitions were thrown into the mix. But you could not understand what he was chanting about.

What the fuck are you talking about? Your friend didn't pick up on your distress... or words over his excessive tirade against himself.

Everything I do, I do it for you, and I would do anything and everything for you. I love you- You hung up.

You couldn't take a second more of that. It was really difficult to see this side of him. It hurts you too that he became like this, perhaps all the stress from building a business from the ground up fried his mind. Whatever it was, you knew that he is not good for you anymore.

You sent him a final text message telling him that you're not comfortable with him after that massive sanity slippage. You wished him luck and expressed your regrets that it had to turn out this way.

You didn't give him a chance to respond, you blocked him immediately on everything and went on with your day.

Whatever he said kept replaying in your head like a broken record. It was pure horror.

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hwajin · 8 months

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— you were the main character in the movie called me

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ✦ :: — bang chan | 4k follower event

genre: angst

pairing: chan x gn!reader

Watching you as you move through the crowd, two red cups in each hand, raised above an ocean of heads. He knew there was beer in yours - though it wasn't your favourite beverage it was the safest option in your opinion, deeming to get you drunk just the right amount. Chan had gone on far too many house parties with you to know this fact, to have laughed about it whenever you sipped and scrunched your face right after, repeating same habit over and over nevertheless.

You had your favourite dress on. Chan can still remember the day you bought it, having taken him with you for a trip to the mall, having spent some money on unplanned shopping, you and him both. To this day Chan thought it was the day he fell in love with you. A day so very trivial, in and out of dressing rooms, showing cloths and outfits and giving honest judgement, laughing at a particular bad fit, at an especially mischosen piece; innocent friendship and yet it had turned to something more for him, while you had stayed blissfully ignorant.

It was months later when - Chan had thought about confessions, about spilling his heart, about the right way to do it, the right moment to take, the right words to say - that you have revealed a crush on a mutual friend, that a first date had been set, already, that you couldn't quite believe the friend's reciprocating feelings. It was the day where Chan's heart had sunken without ever finding it's place snug within his ribs again, a day his soul had shattered, as though you'd thrown a stone into its' fragility of glass.

He watched as you made your way over to your boyfriend, how you pecked him in drunken love, how his gaze on you lingered after you pulled away. He was good to you, and it drove Chan insane. It'd be easier to invade, to hate if who you called love wasn't the man he was. And yet it filled Chan with agony to watch you laugh and smile and giggle in the arms of another, when you were everything his life consisted of. When you were the source for his happiness, the only one he'd call love if given the chance to. The one he'd sacrifice everything for, the one making it impossible to love another - and so he hoped, hoped on the downfall of a relationship most perfect like a fool, hoped your heart would set on his after all, hoped and hoped for him to become your everthing as well.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @felixinameadowandthesuniswarm @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @tangylemonade @happycandynoelle

#bang chan angst #skz angst #stray kids angst #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios

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arogustus · 5 months

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Something about Big Run has always felt weird to me. The dialogue for Barnacle and Dime has Dee0 Cut state that, apparently, the mall is only "partially" closed. Despite the fact a race of viscious salmon people has invaded a chunk of the mall, requiring the local power company to blow a god damn hole into the roof of the building.

Commentary on capitalism and essential workers aside, it's got me thinking. Are the Salmonids holding back?

The fact that they apparently contained themselves only to a part of the mall, the fact that stages always look suspiciously undamaged during Big Run's.

Sunken scrolls and the Grizzco manual have outright stated that these fishy fellows were viewed as harbingers of the apocalypse, capable of ending entire cities when they happened to be in their way.

It's so strange.

#splatoon #salmon run #big run #salmonids #thinking #maybe it's just the devs not working hard enough to sell the idea of an invasion of salmon monsters well #but i feel that this is not the salmonids at their full might. they're holding back on us.

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kadorawrites · 2 years

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New Me - Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Hopper!reader is having a hard time adjusting to normalcy after the disappearance of her father, the death of her tumultuous ex-lover, and losing her only family to California. Instead of turning to her friends, she turns to isolation and partying to cope. Best friend, Steve Harrington, isn't about to let her drown.

Warnings: steve harrington x fem!reader, addiction, drug use

______________________________________________________________

The big sky darkens above the small balcony, where y/n leans against the railing, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She watches the sunset from her new apartment, provided by the police department's pension. She contemplated fixing up the cabin with Steve who offered to help. But the second they pulled up to the painfully familiar place, y/n broke into tears and hasn't worked up the courage to go back since.

She's a new person now, anyways. Barely eighteen, a high school senior, living on her own in some run down apartment building off the main road. Joyce insisted she come with them to California, but the thought of leaving Hawkins without her dad felt wrong. Like he would come back one day and make everything normal again. The Harringtons took her in for a bit until she turned 18, got the life insurance policy, and decided it was time to grow up. Steve would have let her stay with him forever if she wanted to.

But that was a long time ago and he barely recognizes her anymore. She's thinner, skin sunken in, dark circles under her eyes, hair smells like cigarettes, a stoic look on her face whenever they're at work. At least he has that, the only time she's somewhat normal is at the video store where he and Robin begged Keith to give y/n a job. Luckily, she had an extensive Hitchcock knowledge that he found rather impressive and hired her on the spot. Even threatened to fire Steve, which he would have gladly obliged if it meant y/n would get out of the house and have a normal routine.

She wasn't the same though, and Steve had no idea what to do to bring her back. He'd crack jokes as usual, only getting a small smile from her every so often. He invites her to hang out after work almost every shift, yet she declines every time. Steve has an idea what she's doing. Rumors get around in a small town like Hawkins, and when the dead police chief's daughter is seen snorting white powder off some preppies bathroom counter, everyone and their mother hears about it.

Steve refused to believe this new party girl persona. Yeah, they used to get hammered together at parties last year, but what he was hearing about y/n was just not her. It wasn't until he was smacked in the face with the truth one night that he realized his best friend was too far gone.

A few of months ago, at the start of school, one of Steve's many dates dragged him to a high school party. He wandered through the halls in search of bathroom, stumbling into a bedroom. Steve's eyes landed on a half naked y/n, straddling some jock, her skirt pushed up to her waist, her head dangling back as she moaned, the boy's lips attached to her neck. Steve stood paralyzed until y/n looked up at him, her red eyes wide and wild. She gave him a wicked smirk, as the jock pushed into her, then continued her moans, not breaking eye contact with Steve. He shut the door quick, before running down the stairs and into the front lawn. He hunched over, the alcohol coming up, and vomited onto the grass. Steve wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

They never spoke about that night. Hell, he doesn't know if she even remembers it. How could she be so evil? After everything they've been through? After he confessed his feelings for her in the mall bathroom?

But that drug-hazed conversation on the bathroom floor felt like a different life and y/n felt like a different girl. She was class president, soccer captain, life of the party, the chief's daughter who wouldn't take shit from anyone. Now the town pities the sad girl with a dead dad and sister, and an absent mother. The girl with a slight drug addiction and failing grades. The girl who'll sleep with any guy just to feel something.

Back on her balcony she blows smoke out into the sunset, calming her down. A muted pain covers the back of her head, she winces. A drop of blood falls onto the railing. Y/n wipes her nose, trickles of dark red blood smear onto the back of her hand. The pounding in her head beats harder and harder.

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pansexualnoodle5 · 1 year

Text

Brand Saint John:

Also Brand Saint John:

#HEY BRAND WHAT’S THAT THING YOU’RE WEARING #the tarot sequence #the sunken mall #the last sun #brand saint john #rune saint john #kd edwards

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tooearlyforthis · 1 year

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Partners in Crime | part one

Ahh part one is out y'all! I'm so excited for you guys to read this. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for this series!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Hopper!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Synopsis: With Y/n’s love letters anonymously sent out, she struggles to deal with the fallout and the boys who got them.

Warnings: language, fluff, heavily inspired by To All the Boys I've Loved Before by Jenny Han.

Click here to see my masterlist , click here for series masterlist

part two / part three / part four

This was not happening. Why did this have to happen? She had such a good streak; no accidents since the fender bender of ‘84. But of course, some idiot in a ford capri came out of nowhere, slamming into the side of her car.

At least time this wasn’t her fault. That asshole was blasting music and didn’t care to see where he turned. He didn’t even stay around for the aftermath, driving off before she could get a good look at the license plate. The nearest gas station was over two miles away, but with no car phone, it was her only option.

Pushing her car as much as she could to the side of the road and out of traffic, Y/n Hopper began her trek.

Robin Buckley, her long time friend, was waiting for her at Starcourt Mall. They were going to get food, talk; a normal afternoon of laughs and shopping. But now, it would have to wait.

She could imagine how pissed off her father would be. After years of begging him for a car, she finally got one. Granted, it was a run down piece of shit - but it was her piece of shit and she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Finally making it to the end of the block, she felt a light shinning from behind. It casted her in a silhouette on the pavement below. Blocking the glare with her arm, she turned around to see a bmw pull up next to her.

Leaning his arm out the window, Steve Harrington stared down at her. He had this look on his face - somewhere between the line of laughing and pity.

“Is that car back there yours?” He asked, a hint of mockery in his voice.

Already annoyed, she asked, “What’s it to you?”

Despite fighting monsters together for the past few years, they were not friends. At least, they weren’t friends now. Back in middle school, she would have even called him her closest friend. But then douche bags came a long and pulled not him, but their entire friend group apart.

“Do you need a ride? I can call a tow truck,” he asked, bringing her back to reality.

The last thing she wanted to do right now was spend her afternoon with Steve Harrington. But then again, it was better than walking.

“Fine,” she said, walking over to his passenger side door.

Pulling on the already unlocked handle, she climbed inside. Sitting crossed armed, she watched as he called the tow truck with his luxury car phone. Of course he had a phone in his car - she forgot how rich his family actually was.

He looked different from the last time she saw him. His eyes were sunken, a bad posture and too many cuts on his hand for a normal teen. Putting the phone down, he directed his attention back to her. Y/n quickly subverted his gaze, forgetting how awkward things had become between them.

Sure, they could talk when the occasional monster came to town, or when they were will mutual friends. But it was hard to bond with a person when death was looming over their shoulders. Plus, he started dating Nancy Wheeler - another ex-friend from the same group in middle school.

It felt weird to be around the couple, especially since Steve and Y/n had shared a first kiss. She never forgot that embarrassing game of spin the bottle years before.

She had such a crush on his after that, going as far to even right him a letter. God, the letters, how could she forget?

“Where were you heading?” he asked, pulling into her neighborhood.

Startled by the question after so much silence, she stuttered. “U-uh, Starcourt. I was meeting Robin.”

“Oh, I could have dropped you off there.”

“No it’s fine,” she protested. “She’s probably gone anyways and I trust her driving less than mine.”

That got a chuckle out of him. “Yeah that’s smart.” Robin was the only thing besides the kids that still tied her to the Harrington boy. They worked together and even became kind of friends but Y/n tried her best to avoid him. “Though I do have to say you’re car looked pretty bad back there. What did you do, flip it on its head?”

She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t that bad! No, some guy came out of nowhere and ran the stop sign.”

“Dang.”

“Yeah…” she replied, letting the car fall quiet as they pulled up to her house. Before getting out, she turned back to him one last time. “Well, thanks I guess.”

“Anytime, Hopper,” he replied with a smirk.

Before she knew it, he was driving off down the road and their yearly encounter had came and went. Now she had to deal with the with the wrath that was her father Jim Hopper.

He took it better than she thought. No yelling, no stern talks, only concern that she was safe.

“I’ll get your car tomorrow from Frank and we’ll take it down to the shop,” he said, placing the last plate on the kitchen table.

Y/n asked, “You sure you’re not mad?”

“No, honey. I mean, that guy came out of nowhere right?” She nodded. “Then there was nothing you could have done. Go get El, dinners almost ready.”

Nodding, she walked down the hall knocking on her sister’s door. It opened on its own to reveal Eleven sitting on her bed reading a comic Max Mayfield had given her. She smiled when she saw her sister in the doorway.

“Dinner’s ready, come on,” Y/n said, making El immediately stand up. Tonight was breakfast for dinner which meant only one thing - waffles. “I’ll meet you there let me go take my shoes off.”

Watching as her sister ran off to help get glasses for the table, she went to her own room. She kicked off her shoes toward the closet, deciding to hang up her jacket as well. As she prepared herself for dinner, Y/n let her mind wander back to the encounter with Steve. More specifically, the letter she wrote him.

She never sent any of her letters, but found that putting all her emotions onto one page helped her deal with it.

When she was little, Y/n watched her mother and father argue to no end. Well, there was an ending - divorce. She saw what it did to them, bringing out the worst in each other. So when the day came when she finally had a crush on a boy, she decided to write him a love letter.

Love letters were the cheesiest thing she could have chosen but it got the job done. It let her pour her heart out without consequences - no rejecetion, no dissapointment. Thinking back to those letters, she reached under her bed. There she grabbed an old shoe box she store them.

There were five letters - five people that at one point in her life had her heart and they didn’t even know it.

“Y/n ,” El said, peeking her head into the room. “Dinner is getting cold.”

Y/n whipped her head out fast, shoving the box under her bed. “Right, yeah." She stood up quickly. “I’m coming.”

No one knew about the letters, not even Robin. And she intended for it to stay that way.

🖊️🖊️🖊️

To say the week had gone bad was an understatement. A not so great essay and a shitty chemistry lab led to Y/n getting to school early with Robin.

The school was always so quiet in the mornings. It was the most peaceful it could get before sweaty, hormonal teenagers filled the hall. Plus, her car was still in the shop which meant she had to catch an early ride with her dad anyways.

“I bet it wasn’t that bad,” Robin said as they pushed open the doors to the school.

“Oh it was, trust me,” she replied. “Thanks for meeting again to go the library I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t sweat it. I need to work on math homework anyways.”

They thought the hall was empty, but turning the corner proved they were so very wrong. The clicking of boots echoed as Y/n made eye contact with the one person she tried desperately to avoid.

Billy Hargrove, in all his mullet glory, sauntered down the hall toward them. When he saw Y/n , a smirk formed on his face, finishing with a wink. Y/n froze in the hall, grabbing on to Robin's arm to stop her as well.

“What are you-“ Robin tried to ask but Y/n interrupted her.

“Let’s go the long way,” she said, dragon her friend to continue straight instead of passing her former hookup.

If you told Y/n at the start of school that she had hooked up with Billy Hargrove, she would have laughed in your face. But, if you told her that after the fact, she caught feelings for him - she would have said the apocalypse was more likely.

When Billy had first moved into town, he was all anyone could talk about. Y/n had ran into in at her arcade job where he was dropping off his little sister. And well, you say that she left work early that day.

But of course, being the hopeless romantic she was, she developed a crush on Billy Hargrove. She didn’t know why. The way he walked, the way he could hold command of a room... All she knew was he wasn’t a girlfriend type of guy and she needed to get rid of her feeling fast.

In the bottom of that shoe box under her bed another love letter sat addressed to him.

“Y/n did you hear anything I said?” Robin asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“No, sorry could you repeat?”

Rolling her eyes as they entered the library, she fell into a whisper. “I heard that Steve and Nancy broke up.”

Y/n 's head whipped to face her. “Really?”

“Yeah. She dumped him for Jonathan Byers.”

She withheld a gasp. Jonathan was another friend from the ex group in middle school. She never wold have imagined Nancy to go after him. “Damn, I didn’t expect that.”

“Right! Like, I don’t know Jonathan that well but I mean, come on! Steve has changed his douche bag ways, I can see it at work.”

Y/n nodded along as she took out her notebook, getting lost in her head once more. The day began to blend together. One minute she was studying with Robin in the library, the next, running side by side in gym class.

Running was not her first choice when it came to sports. She was fast and could make the track team if she tried. But Y/n never felt very athletically inclined. She was happy, however, that she got to share the class with her friend.

Robin was going on about something her crush said earlier that week but Y/n couldn’t bring her attention to it. Instead, focused on a voice calling her name from behind.

Stopping, she pulled Robin off the track in an attempt to not get trampled by other students. They watched as Steve Harrington ran up to them.

“There you are Hopper,” he said, finally catching up. He took a moment to catch his breath. “Can we talk for a second?”

Why would Steve Harrington want to talk to her?

“Uh sure?” she said.

He glanced over at Robin who stared at him with crossed arms. “Alone?”

Y/n looked over at her friend, who stood with crossed arms. “Wow,” Robin said, dripping with sarcasm. “Okay, Harrington.”

“I’ll meet you afterward?” Y/n asked.

“No, I get it. I’m being replaced.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t get annoyed with me dingus! Stack the tapes at work correctly and maybe you have a say in this.”

Robin took off again down the track as another wave of students passed them. Y/n turned her attention back to the boy in front of her, shifting her weight back and forth.

“What do you want, Steve?” she asked, confused at what he had to say to her.

“Listen, I just-“ he paused, trying to find the right words to say. “I don’t like you like that.”

She scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, Nance and I just broke up and I’m not looking to get into anything serious. And for your information, I do not always take the last slice of pizza. But, you wouldn’t know that cause we haven’t hung out since middle school. Unless you count fighting inter-dimensional monsters.”

“No, I mean why are you telling me this-“ She froze mid-sentence, looking down at his hand. He was gripping a letter - her letter, the one she wrote to him so many years ago when her crush got too overwhelming. “Where -where did you get that?”

He looked down at the letter. “It came in the mail yesterday… also, I didn’t mean to steal your first kiss. I mean, it was mine too and I thought it was like okay since it was a game-“

“Don’t worry about it-“ She didn’t let him finish snatching the letter from his hand. He looked up at her shocked. “It’s all in the past.”

He tried to call out to her as she ran past him, making a b-line to the girls locker room. It wasn’t until she was sat inside that she gave herself a moment to take it all in. Steve had her note, her note. Why did he have it? Who sent it out because it certainly wasn’t her. And steal her first kiss? She couldn’t even remember what she wrote.

Taking the letter out, she began to read:

Steve Harrington,

I refuse to call you just "Harrington" because it sounds cooler and you know it. There is something so smug about you that it makes everyone fall in love with you, even me.

Did you know that after you kissed me I had a crush on you? You’re tall now, taller than everyone but even back then when you were short, people didn’t care. That was - still is the effect you have on people and it worked on me.

But you probably knew that right? Because everyone is in love with Steve Harrington. Well, I’m not - or at least I’m not anymore.

So here are some of your worst qualities, ones I used to convince myself you were merely a passing thought:

You snore. How do I know that? One time I slept at your house after Jonathan Byers' birthday party. I stayed up all night because of how loud you were and I never forgot that.

You always take the last slice of pizza. Never asking if anyone else wants it, just taking. And I think that’s rude.

It’s like how you took my first kiss. I wanted it to be with someone special, someone that bore their heart to me and I the same. But instead, you came along with that stupid bottle and that stupid game. You stole the one thing I was looking forward to most about growing up - Love.

You had my love for a while, most of seventh and eight grade. But then Tommy and Carol came along, you became a douche bag, and our friend group split up - all because of you.

You were the glue that held together our group did you know that? You’re charm, your presence… After you left, none of us hung out again but no one cared. Because you’re Steve Harrington and no one can stay mad at Steve Harrington. No one can resist falling in love with Steve Harrington.

Well I can. I can happily say I am immune to you Steve. For the first time in my life I can say that your Harrington charm will never work on me again.

Y/n Hopper

Did she really write all that? It sounds like she’s obsessed with him - but then again she remembered how intense that crush was. For weeks she couldn’t even bare to look at him…

Wait.

If Steve got a letter did that mean that the others were out too? School couldn't wait, she needed to get home now. With a totaled car and a dad that was still working, Y/n opted to run home. She ran and ran until she could see her street. She ran until she was inside crouching under bed for her shoe box - the shoe box that was now gone.

Standing up, she went ballistic. She teared at every corner, every inch of her room in search for that box but it was no where to be found. Sighing, she sat on her floor in defeat. She pulled her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, wishing that it was a nightmare. That all those letters weren’t sent out. But as her eyes fluttered back open, she was still on her floor; letters delivered to all the boys she loved before.

🖊️🖊️🖊️

Y/n's new plan was to avoid Billy Hargrove. It seemed easy enough at first, until she got out of her dad car and he was standing in front of the school. Wishing her dad at good day at work, she rushed to the side entrance of the school. It wasn't until Robin spotted her that she looked up.

“Woah, Y/n,” Robin called out. “Are you okay? You look flushed.”

“I’m fine,” she replied plainly. “Not feeling to great uh, I have to get some stuff from my locker I’ll see you in class!”

She walked away without waiting for a response finally sighing as her locker door opened. She stuck her face inside as she took a deep breath. She didn’t have any classes with him so she should be okay until lunch. Just get to lunch and everything would be okay.

Feeling well enough to head to class, she shut her locker door. Standing behind it was Billy Hargrove. She yelped in surprise, almost dropping a textbook. Looked like there was no avoiding him now.

He was leaning against the lockers, playing the her letter in his hands. Smirking, he looked up at her.

“You love me, Hopper?” he asked in a playful tone. Even though it was upbeat she could sense the condensing tone beneath it.

“Billy-“

He interrupted her. “I mean, we hookup once and I get a love letter? It’s pathetic. I mean, sweet but, still pathetic.”

“I wrote that a while ago you were never meant to see it.” She reached out to grab the letter but he pulled back to quickly.

“Woah, there sweetheart. I think I'll hold on to this. This is something the people need to see!"

Y/n felt her heart drop in her chest. He was going to release the letter? Letter everyone know that she once loved him? It was bad enough Billy saw the love letter she wrote but the entire school? It was too embarrassing.

“I-I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Y/n said, forcing herself to hold her head high. Was confidence was the way to shut him down?

Billy met her gaze, straightening up to meet her an inch from her own face. “And why would that be?”

“Because…” She had to think of something anything to get him off her back. “My boyfriend wouldn’t like that so much,” she blurted out.

Billy’s gaze faltered as he took a step back. “You’re boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I mean, wouldn’t want to get beat up over an old letter right?” she said, crossing her arms. She tried hiding the cracks in her voice, keeps a calm composure and begging he bought it - it looked like he kind of did.

“And who is this mystery boyfriend I should be so afraid of?"

Y/n didn’t know what to do. She frantically looked around the halls for someone. Anyone she could pull aside to get Billy off her back. There was one person, no, she couldn’t. But then again it might have been her only choice.

Without thinking it through anymore, Y/n grabbed hold of Steve Harrington's shirt. She yanked him to her and planted a kiss on his lips. The force of her pull made them stumble back into her locker. He put his hands on either side to break his fall, leaning into the kiss more.

Slowly, she pulled away. Opening her eyes, she hoped that his would remain close but they weren’t. They were staring down at her wide-eyed, wondering why in the world this was happening.

Y/n looked over to see Billy scoffing. He turned, stomping down the hall away from them, the grip on her letter a little tighter than before. She felt a small wave of relief wash over her, until she remembered who she dragged into this mess.

Steve was still in shock as Y/n pushed him back, wiping her lips and avoiding his gaze. He went to open his mouth but she beat him to it.

“Thanks!” she exclaimed before walking off, giving him no further explanation.

Well, that was one way to get Billy Hargrove off your back.

🖊️🖊️🖊️

It wasn’t until lunch rolled around that Y/n's heart finally returned to a steady pace. Holy shit, she kissed Steve Harrington.

It wasn’t the first time of course, but now both of them had some experienced. Was it bad that she kind of liked it? No, she shouldn’t think about that, but, it didn’t hurt to go find him. After all, she did jump him in the hall.

Both of them had gym next but Y/n found herself unable to focus on whatever sport they were playing this week. Making up and excuse of "menstrual problems," she headed for the girls locker room.

It was going to be empty and she need time to think. What do you say to your former friend after sending a love letter and kissing them?

Hey, sorry you’re a douche bag but a bigger douche bag is gonna expose me in front of the school.

No, that was right. She had to think of something quick as the door opened, girls walking back in to change into normal clothes.

She opted to wait for him outside the boys locker room and lucky for her, he was the last one to come out. Better last than first - she did not want to have this conversation with people around. As the hall emptied and Steve emerged, she was quick to catch his gaze.

“Oh no,” he started, deciding to take on a playful tone. “Should I cover my mouth?”

Rolling her eyes, she lightly hit his arm. “Oh my god- I’m sorry about that.”

“Does you kissing me have anything to do with the letter? Cause I already told you I'm not into you that way. Nance and I just broke up-“

“No,” she interrupted him. “I mean, it does have to do with the letters but- just- I don’t like you like that either.”

“Wait letters? Plural?”

Y/n hid her face in her hands, trying to think of the best way to explain her situation. “I use to write letters to get my feelings out okay? I had no intention of every sending that to you.”

He nodded, taking in what she said. “So who were the other letters to?”

“What?”

“Well you obviously kissed me to get away from one of them. So, who was it?” Y/n felt herself stumbling over her words. She didn’t owe him anymore than an apology. “Hopper?”

“If I tell you will you get off my back?”

“Maybe,” he said with a smirk, leaning against a locker.

“Fine, Billy Hargrove.”

Steve stood back up straight as the name left her mouth. “Hargrove? Really?”

“We hooked up a while ago and-“

“You hooked up with the guy?!”

“It wasn’t my proudest moment!” she protested, feeling the urge to defend herself. “I wrote him a letter and he threatened to show the entire school so I told him I had a boyfriend that wouldn’t like that. You happened to be walking down the hall and I knew he wouldn’t mess with you after what happened at the Byer’s with Max…”

She could see a ping of jealousy when she mention Jonathan’s last name. Maybe he wasn’t too fond over Nancy’s new boyfriend - despite all of them being friends at one point.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized again.

“No, it’s okay. I get it, Hargrove’s a prick.”

“Yeah…” Silence took over the conversation and Y/n didn’t want anything else to do with him.

“What are you gonna tell him now?”

Y/n looked up at him confused. What else could she tell Billy but he wasn’t her boyfriend? It seemed like a stupid question.

“I don’t know, I’ll make something up…”

She waved one last goodbye to Steve before taking off, wanting to be done with the conversation.

🖊️🖊️🖊️

Y/n had almost gone the rest of the day without thinking of Steve Harrington. That was, until her best friend reminded her of what had happened.

She picked up the phone with a simple, “Hello?”

“Did you really kiss Steve Harrington?” Robin asked on the other side of the line, not bothering for formalities.

Y/n looked back at Eleven and Mike Wheeler who were sitting watching a movie on the couch. She hoped they couldn’t hear her friend through the phone.

“Yeah, I did,” she responded simply.

“Oh my god why?”

Robin didn’t know about the letters, nor did Y/n want her to. “It was a heat of the moment thing,” she replied, opting not to confess the real reason. Thankfully, the door sounded before her friend could reply. “I gotta go Mrs. Wheeler is here to pick up Mike.”

“Wait but-“

“I’ll see you at school!”

She hung up the phone, fixing her hair for a moment before answering the door. It always took a long time for Mike to actually leave their house but she was thankful that he was out quick this time.

Falling back on her bed, she heard a subtle knock against her open door. She looked up, using her arms as support from behind her.

“What’s up El?” she asked her sister hovering in the doorway.

El shook her head. “Nothing.”

She sat up fully now, wondering what was wrong with her sister. “Well, it can’t be nothing. C’mon, what’s wrong.”

“Nothing's wrong. I just…. I’ve been thinking.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been thinking…about what?”

El paused her a moment, looking down at the floor as she tried to find the right words. “I have Mike,” she began. “And I love him. I love spending time with him, watching movies…why don’t you have someone?”

“Where’s this coming from?” Y/n asked confused. Since when did her sister care about her love life?

Eleven walked into her room, taking a seat next to her on the bed. “You’re always at home. Babysitting.”

“I hang out with Robin.”

“That’s one person. You need someone. Someone like Mike to make you happy.”

“A boyfriend?” El nodded. “I don’t need a boyfriend hun, I’m perfectly happy here with you…go get ready for bed, dad will be home soon.”

El gave a weak nod before going off to do her night routine. Sighing, Y/n let herself fall back on her bed once more. Maybe El was right. Maybe she did need someone in her life that wasn’t family or a best friend. Maybe if she had a boyfriend, she wouldn’t have kissed Steve, and Billy wouldn’t be a pain in her ass…

🖊️🖊️🖊️

Y/n was thankful she checked the mail before leaving. Two of the letters that got out were sitting on the counter - a "return to sender" label stamped over them. A tiny weight felt like it was taken off her chest.

There were three now. Three people received letters and that seemed more manageable than five.

With her sprit up a little more than yesterday, she was quickly reminded of the situation she was in. She cursed herself for not seeing Billy Hargrove as he strutted up to her in the library. She jumped back in surprise when he approached her.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” he smirked, leaning against the shelf she was looking at.

She rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”

“Just wondering how things were going with Harrington.”

Shit. He was testing her, calling her on her bullshit. She couldn’t say they were still together and it felt like she had no other option than to tell the truth.

“Not to good,” she admitted. “We broke up, he’s still in love with Nancy Wheeler.”

“Really? Cause I saw Harrington earlier at basketball and he said he really liked you. Blushed even.”

That caught her off guard. “What?”

“Who knew you would have the former King of Hawkins High drooling over you. I gotta admit Hopper, I was shocked - didn’t know you were his type.”

Why would he say that? What game was he playing?

“I gotta go I actually planned to meet him before first period,” she mumbled out, walking away from him.

She didn’t have plans of course, but as the first bell rang, she knew that she would have to face him. Steve sat a few rows over from her in Chemistry so passing a note to him felt like the best approach.

Why did you tell Billy we were dating? She wrote on a ripped off piece of paper, sliding it over to him.

She watched as he furrowed his brows. It was clear his mind was racing but she couldn’t quite get a read on him. After a few moments, he scribbled something and tossed the paper back.

Stay behind after class.

Looking up at him, she caught his eyes for only a moment before turning back to the board. Y/n couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of class, trying to sneak glances over at him.

What was he thinking? What plan was he concocting in his head? She raced over to him as the bell rang, students filing out of the classroom for lunch.

“So?” she asked, not wanting to wait any longer.

Steve looked around the room as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “Wanna go for a walk?”

Nodding, she followed him. They trekked out to the field that laid between the running track and the school. She figured they were taking the long way to get to the parking lot.

“Are we gonna talk about it now or continue to walk in silence?” she asked.

“Let me- just give me a minute,” he replied, staring down at the grass beneath them. It only took a moment more before he continued. “You don’t deserve Billy’s wrath for a few old letters you wrote.”

“I already told him we broke up though, that you’re still in love with Nancy.”

He whipped his head toward her. “What? I’m not still in love with Nance.” She raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “Our breakup was mutual.”

“Sure,” she said sarcastically. “Everyone knows that you’ll be back together in no time. Especially because you were her first time.”

“How do you know that?”

“Ex friends talk, especially when you call them assholes.”

“Shit,” he cursed to himself. “Tommy and Carol?”

Y/n nodded. “They blabbed to the whole school the weekend after you ditched them."

Finally reaching the parking lot, Y/n could see Steve’s car a few feet away. Where was this conversation going to go?

“What if we let people, Billy and Nance included, think we’re dating?” he asked, reaching to unlock the door to his car.

Y/n stopped behind him confused. “What? Why would we do that?”

“Cause Billy’s made it clear he’ll go photo copy that letter and spread it around the minute he knows I won’t kick his ass.”

“Okay… but what’s in it for you? You wouldn’t be doing this out of the kindness of your heart would you?”

She asked the question, knowing the answer already. Steve Harrington was never the type to do something without it benefiting him.

He rolled his eyes and answered, “Okay so maybe the breakup wasn’t mutual.” He looked up from the car, meeting her gaze. “If she thinks we’re together it will send a message to Nancy that I’ve moved on.”

Y/n crossed her arms. “I don’t like you like that, Steve.”

“That’s the point. We don’t actually have to date, just make people think we are.”

“I don’t know…” she said hesitantly. She didn’t want to be his real or fake girlfriend - it all seemed just a little too weird.

“I mean,” he started, leaning against the open car door. “Billy definitely thought we were together at basketball this morning. I could see his stupid face getting red.”

Y/n gritted her teeth. He was right, why did he have to be right? She had less than a year left at Hawkins High, why have Billy make it miserable?

Reaching out her hand, she said, “Alright, Steve. You’ve got yourself a deal."

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Series Taglist: @sigh-mon-says @johnricharddeacy @totally-bogus-timelady @in-this-minute @steveharringtonisfit @dukesmebby @pricelessemotion

299 notes · View notes

crushculture03 · 7 months

Text

6 Months Later

Summary : You and matty broke up 6 months ago, one day while you’re out he stops you, only to find out the secret you hid from him.

Matty Healy x Afab!reader

Warnings : Mentions of drug use and drugs, Rehab mention, pregnancy

Word count : 1.4k

“Baby please just listen” matty pleaded as he grabbed your hand, preventing you from leaving the room. You turned towards him, tears flowling from your eyes, “What Matty? What could you possibly have to say?” you responded, as you rip you hand away from him.

You didn’t think this was how you guys would end, truthfully you didn’t think you’d end at all, you thought you were enough for him, but in the end the drugs meant more to him then you ever did. “Y/n listen please don’t go” he pleaded, following you down the hallway as you made your way to the front door. “Matty” you said, turning to face him one last time, you scanned his face seeing the tell tale sign of drug use, his eyes were sunken in and there were dark bags under them, letting you know he hadn’t slept in days.

“Matty I love you more than anything and I was hoping it would never have to come to this, but you choose the high over me Healy and i can’t keep worrying that I’m going to wake up to a call from the police telling me they found you dead from an overdose in some gas station bathroom” you said, “Please” he whimpered, tears slowly rolling down his rosy cheeks. “I’m sorry matty” you said, your heart breaking from having to say those words. “If you get clean call me and we’ll talk but until then, just please take care of yourself please” you beg, and slowly lean up and place a kiss on his wet cheek before opening the door and stepping out into the cool fall air.

“Looks like it’s just you and me baby” you whisper to yourself once out of earshot from matty. Tears stream faster down your face as you place your hand on your stomach, and imagine the future with you and mattys baby.

6 months later…

It had been 6 months since that night, you haven’t stopped thinking about it, you constantly played the events over and over in your head. You remember how happy you were to tell matty that you were pregnant, but once you walked into his place and found him with white powder on his nose, your heart dropped, and when you told him to choose you or the drugs and he said nothing, you knew he had made his decision.

Every day the decision to not tell him about the baby haunted you, the guilt would eat you up everyday, but you knew it was the best thing to do, you wouldn’t let your child grow up in an environment where their father was on drugs.

Eventually, you had heard from george saying that about 3 months ago matty had gone off to rehab in Barbados, your heart swelled at this news, hoping that maybe when he got out and was clean you all could be a family. And when you heard he got out a month ago, you waited by your phone everyday hoping maybe today would be the day he’ll call, but he never did and you accepted the reality that it was just you and your baby.

You had decided to go mall today, hoping to find some baby clothes for your daughter and some maternity clothes for yourself, because as of now all that fit was mattys old shirts and one pair of leggings you had bought when you first started showing.

As you were perusing down the aisle in Macy’s, your hand was placed on your stomach in a protective fashion; something you found yourself doing ever since you found out you were pregnant, you saw what looked to be a familiar head of curls.

You quickly brushed it off as just pregnancy brain and went back to looking at the onesie packs that were on display. “Y/n?” an all too familiar voice said from behind you, your heart skipped a beat, you knew that voice, it was the one you had been waiting to hear again for 6 months. You slowly turn around “Matty” you whispered, your heart almost beating out of your chest. You saw his eyes study your face before slowly lower down your body and landing on your bump, his eyes went wide at the realiztion.

“You-you’re pregnant?” he asked, walking closer to her. “Glad you have working eyes” the hormones and emotions of the situation getting to you, causing you to snap at him. “How far along are you?” he asked, brushing off your comment, “About six months” you whisper. It takes matty a minute to calculate everything in his head, but when he does he looks back up at you

“Wait 6-6 months? y/n is-” he said,, but before he could finish you cut him of “yes matthew it’s yours” you said , instantly feeling a wave of relief wash over you for second. But then the guilt came back as you saw his face, “why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, “Because the night I was going to tell you, I found you all coked up and about to pass out” you said.

“Is there a place we can go that is more private?” he asked, you nodded your head “we can go back to my place if you want” you suggested. “Ok, same address right?” he said, you nodded your head ‘yes’ in response and the two of you made it out of Macys and head back to your place.

“Tea?” you offered as you put the kettle on the stove, “Sure” he said as he hesitantly sat down on the couch. After a few minutes you came to the living room with two mugs, handing one to him before sitting down. You both sat in silence, just trying to gather your thoughts together, “Look Y/n, I’m so sorry for what happened that night, and everything i put you through” he apologized.

“I’m just happy you’re still alive Matty” you said, he looked up at you and smiled “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, I relapsed my first week out and felt so ashamed of it, but as of today I’m 3 weeks sober” he said. “Oh matty” you whispered, gently placing your mug down and pulling him into a hug. “I hope you’ll be able to forgive me y/n, because If you’ll have me I’d really want to be in our babys life” he whispered, hesitantly pulling away from the hug to see you reaction.

“Matty you don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that, I almost picked up the phone and called you millions of times, but I wanted you to get clean for no one else but yourself, i’m so incredibly sorry for not telling you about her sooner” you said, looking down at your hands, ashamed. He gently nudged your chin up so you were face to face again, “ I don’t blame you darling, you were just trying to do what was best” he whispered, and pulled you back into a hug.

“Wait did you say her?” he said, you chuckled “yeah, we’re having a little baby girl” you whispered in his ear. He pulled away, a big smile painting his face as his quickly pulled you in for a kiss, it caught you off guard at first but you would be lying if you said you haven’t dreamt about this exact moment. “Oh shit sorry, I-” matty pulled away, “Healy relax” you giggled and pulled him in for another kiss.

“We’re having a baby!” he cheered, making you giggle. Suddenly you felt the familiar jolt of a kick, “Matty feel” you said, grabbing his hand and placing it on your stomach, again you felt your daughter kick. “Do you know daddys voice” you cooed, matty looked up at you shocked, “I play and sing your music to her, in hope one day we’d have this moment” you smile. “This is insane” he says, his hand never leaving your stomach, “She only kicks when I play your music, think she might be a daddys girl already” you joke, which causes matty to laugh and pull you in for another kiss. “I’m never going anywhere again y/n , i’m here for everything for you and for her” he said, your heart melted when he said that. “I love you” you whisper out before you can even think, “I love you too” he responds.

#matty healy #mattyhealyfanfic #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #matty x reader

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franticvampirereads · 2 years

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Two mini reviews for the price of one today!

The Sunken Mall was such a nice reread! I still loved all the trouble that Rune and Brand got into. But also I loved that Max and Quinn were so adorably ready to kick some ass (even if they weren’t quite ready). Oh and!! I think I might have caught a bit of foreshadowing for The Hourglass Throne?? I’m just so excited that I can’t wait! This is still a solid four of five stars and I would highly recommend!

My original review can be found here.

The Separation was just a cute little story from Rune and Brand’s childhood…toddlerhood? Anyway. It was really cute and I would love to see more of the chaos that these two caused as small children because you know it had to be legendary. I loved this and it’s getting a solid four stars as well!

Reading Challenge Prompt Fills:

PopSugar 2022: a book set during a holiday (The Sunken Mall)

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iridescent-petrichor · 2 years

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don’t believe in much but i believe in you

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Warnings: sorta graphic description of gore

Words: 1.6K

After going after Steve through the gate to the Upside Down, you trudged through the forest of dead trees, trailing behind Eddie and Steve who had their focus on whatever hushed conversation they were having.

You glanced past them to Robin, walking beside Nancy. She was nervously glancing around, eyes darting from the inky black vines squirming on the ground to the sky, where visible clouds of some kind of particle would float past.

The sound of a dead branch snapping behind you makes you spin around, staring into the darkness, eyes straining to see if anything was there.

“Did you guys hear that?” Your voice was shakier than you expected, and it was the only sound to fill the now painfully tense silence.

When there was no response, you spun around again, finding yourself alone.

“...Guys?” You looked around at the near-empty forest around you, your heart practically pounding out of your chest. Where the hell did they…

A sickening whisper of your name sent a shiver up your spine, the voice coming from directly behind you. When you turned around again, there was still nothing to be found.

You fought the urge to call out for your friends, knowing it would be of no use.

Suddenly, you felt a hand grab your shoulder, turning you once more to face what you would consider your worst nightmare.

Before you stood Steve Harrington – or a terrifying, rotting version of him. His eyes were sunken, with bruises and blood covering his face and neck. In front of him was your younger brother. His body was limp, held up by the familiar black tendrils that were wrapped around him, climbing up towards his neck, pulsing in a way that made your stomach churn.

Right behind them was the rest of your friends, mangled or broken in a nauseating fashion. They were barely standing, held in place like puppets by the same tentacles that held Dustin up.

Even further back was a writhing mass that looked scarily similar to the mind flayer you fought in the mall less than a year ago.

You gagged, backing away from the disgusting scene in front of you, putting a hand over your mouth.

“Why did you leave?” The decaying Steve asked, moving easily around Dustin’s lifeless body, stopping only a foot in front of you, reaching his hand out.

Before he could touch you, you jumped back, nearly tripping over your own feet.

“You abandoned us.” He insisted, moving closer with every inch you moved back.

With a whimper, you spun around, sprinting as fast as you could in the opposite direction.

“What’s her favorite song?!” Eddie shrieked, hands on either side of his head. He was pacing back in forth in front of your non-responsive body, cursing over and over again in his panic.

“Fuck, I don’t know!” Robin yelled back, wringing her hands together anxiously. She stood next to Nancy, who had her hands on your shoulders, trying to get through to you.

“I know it, I know it!” Steve interrupted, shoving himself to the front of the group, cupping your cheek so gently you would think he was afraid you would break.

“What is it then?!” Robin took a step closer to Nancy, grabbing her arm tightly in a futile attempt to stay calm.

“What good is it if we don’t even have a walkman?!” Eddie screeched, stopping his pacing to face Steve.

“Just let me think!” Steve yelled back, swatting Eddie away. “Just let me think!”

Everyone’s screaming only got louder when you lifted off the ground, floating up into the air.

You stopped for a moment to catch your breath, daring a glance behind you for only a moment. The sight before you made your heart drop.

It was a massive army of flayed soldiers. Everyone that was taken on that night. And leading the charge was your friends and family, puppeteered by the black vines that surrounded you.

“Fuck.” You whisper, turning back around in your attempt to continue your escape.

That plan was cut short, however, as Vecna was now directly in front of you. In the distance behind him, you can see the remnants of a building being torn apart, floating lightly around four massive pillars.

Suddenly, you were floating. A newfound pressure on your neck lifted you high into the air, clawing desperately to keep yourself on the ground. You kicked and scratched, barely making contact with Vecna, who was bringing you towards the half-destroyed building. That’s when you see the other victims – Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick. You stifle a sob, continuing to thrash around in Vecna’s grip.

Then, you hear something. All around you, weakly singing a song you knew all too well.

Steve..?

You and Steve were carpooling to work, as you often did when you worked the same shift. He was exhausted, too tired to even complain about having to work the morning shift the day after closing up. You, however, had much more energy than him, asking if you could play your own mixtape on the way there. He shrugged, letting you replace his music with your own in the stereo.

When the music started playing and you sang along with the widest smile on your face, Steve couldn’t help but grin. You leaned towards him, holding an invisible microphone and overexaggerating your dancing. He shoved you away, now with almost as wide a smile as you, risking a glance at you for just a moment.

“I’m trying to drive, dipshit.” He said, words lacking any malice.

“C’mon, you love me!” You laughed, leaning towards him a second time, singing as overdramatic as you could just to see him smile.

“If I could save time in a bottle-”

“The first thing… that I’d like… to do…” Steve was desperate, trying to ignore the way his voice cracked and tears welled in his eyes.

The second he started to sing, the rest of the group fell silent, praying it would work.

Steve kept singing, eyes trained on you floating above him. Briefly, he thought about having to tell Dustin that you didn’t make it, but he pushed it away.

He couldn’t think about that yet. Not when there was still a chance to save you.

It seemed even Vecna was caught off guard for a moment, looking past you to see the small opening out of the hell you were dragged into. You took the opportunity, grabbing one of the slimy tendrils on his neck and pulling as hard as you could. He lost his grip, reaching up to grab his now open wound as you fell harshly to the ground. You didn’t give yourself a moment to think, just scrambling up off the ground and stumbling towards the opening. It didn’t take long before you regained your balance, running as fast as you could despite the burning in your lungs.

Faintly, you could hear Vecna’s yelling cease. He must’ve recovered quickly, now using his powers to drop the debris around you. It was crashing down, nearly knocking you back to the ground, but you held strong. Pushing past the aching in your legs, you dodged the falling scraps of building, ducking under a massive grandfather clock that almost took your head off.

You held onto the singing, held onto Steve, held onto your friends waiting for you on the other side. Dustin was waiting for you to get back, no idea you were even in danger.

It was a quiet day at Family Video, with no customers to keep you occupied. You stared into the empty store in boredom, not even noticing that Steve had slipped away. He’d run off to the back room, grabbing a boombox and slotting a mixtape into it. He snuck back to you, holding it behind his back before he pressed play.

You jumped when the song started, turning to Steve with a questioning look as he set it on the counter in front of you.

“This dance, madam?” He held a hand out, the wide smile on his face making your knees weak.

“Fuck off, Steve.” And yet, you took his hand, letting him pull you onto the shop floor.

He brought you close to him, slow dancing with you in the empty video store. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you looked up at him, part of you convinced you were dreaming and part of you terrified you were gonna step on his toes.

You were so enthralled in your anxiety that you almost didn’t notice him leaning closer until he stopped mere inches away from your lips.

“Can I?” He whispered.

You nodded, and that was all he needed before closing the gap between you.

You reached out, stretching your arm as far as you could. It was so close, yet so far. Your legs felt like they were on fire, and Vecna was gaining on you.

As you got closer, you pushed forward, fingertips barely grazing the connection back to your world before you were plummeting to the ground, gasping for air.

“Y/N!” Steve’s voice rang through your ears, lurching forward to try and catch you as you fell. He helped soften your fall, wrapping his arms around you on the forest ground.

Your eyes darted around, taking in your surroundings. You never thought you’d find the Upside Down comforting, but it was much better than the hellscape you just got out of. Finally, you let yourself relax, closing your eyes and leaning back against Steve’s chest, breathing heavily.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” He soothed, running a hand through your hair.

“You’re okay.”

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader

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