🙏

The fact that the boys in the Miranda family have matching swimwear makes me 😍❤️🤧😍❤️🤧

Source: Luis Miranda's twitter

tony stark + evolution

Oh, I missed reading about Bucky.

Poor Bucky, he's lost. But that's okay, she got confidence enough for both of them. Loved the story. Super cute 🥺

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐬 — 𝐛.𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. bucky barnes x fem!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff, social anxiety, bucky being a nervous mess

SYNOPSIS. bucky falls head over heels for a girl at the market selling plums. after coming home, he tries to get any piece of advice on how to talk to a girl from his fellow teammates.

LENGTH. 1.940 words

MASTERLIST

Continuar lendo

MEU DEEEEEUS MINHAS EMOÇÕES ESTAVAM ↗️↔️↙️↖️↘️↪️↗️↙️⬆️↙️↔️↗️↪️ LENDO

TÔ ADORANDO ESSA ERA DE SMAU NO FANDOM

summary: where Juani noticed some new gossip that was going around Twitter in the name of one of his favorite singers and his co-worker

paring: enzo vogrincic x fem!singer! reader [ no faceclaim ]

writer: Just the reader sticking to the vibe of every person in the world since the release of the movie and the rise of the current internet boyfriend

( tradução para o português )

liked by juanicar, havanaroseliu, lilymhe and 4.636.585 others

yourusername the female urge to write a song about a guy she saw an edit on tiktok

view all 32.075 comments

havanaroseliu OMG! Okay, it´s happenning!!!

yummyyourname Everybody stay calm!!!! yncliquee what's the procedure everyone? what's the procedue?

ynthinker SHE'S JUST LIKE ME FR

miniynln the last photo, is that the latino guy from the airplane movie???

havanaynluvchild thank u random hot man for making mother do her job

vongriciccunt I understand her at a certain level of depth, I also wanted everyone to hear my love for him after an edit

liked by yourusername and 289 others

bottomsburner "let's make all the tiktok girlys freak"

story responses in instagram dm

havanaroseliu Be fr right now

niamhhccormack_ same.

yourusername he is a hot girls thing for sure

reneerapp shame on you putting things like this on my face

themaddieep are you lauching??????

yourusername girl, I WISH

first story responses in instagram dm

havanaroseliu beg your pardon??? delete this, i have a reputation and another place to be

ynthinker love your friendship with the Bottoms cast.

havanaynluvchild MAMA & MOTHER TOGETHER

reneerapp invitation?????

kikaroseliu i loveeee her so much

juanicar the pretzels look fake

second story responses in instagram dm

chuuyn IT'S COMING

nigvtmares THAT'S A WRAP??

juanicar need this song right now

yourusername boy, it's coming calm down juanicar Could an old fan know more about the song? yourusername that depends, old fan, send me your number

treaclychild JUST FUCKING UPLOAD IT ALREADY

third story responses in dm

reneerapp I had hoped you'd be turning into a real person

niamhhccormack_ girl

yourusername sorry mother, for i have sinned ( it will happen again

juanicar I feel like I shouldn't be seeing this

yourusername welcome, juanicar, to enzo vogrincic secret fan page yourusername You should think twice before sending me your number and making friends, you have released an intimacy never thought of

liked by franromerofran, havanaroseliu, juanicar and 5.768.307 others

yourusername "Older" is now up for you people to stream . . . and the secret is out, the song is about juanicar

view all 42.560 comments

juanicar oh well . . . secret is out

yourusername gonna tell them we are now lauching? havanasennot WTF???

ynthinker gonna be my number 1 song fr

havanaynluvchild she's making new friends ooooown so proud

liked by yourusername and 127others

franromerofran He came to my house with Blas, Matias and Pipe to listen

vongriciccunt THE LSDLN STREAMING IT

kukuthinkeer wait, the song is not about Enzo?

yourusername no 🥰

vogrincicenzo has followed yourusername

first story responses in dm

juanicar girl . . . i think u should check on something

havanaroseliu PR TEAM IS FREAKING RIGHT NOW

lnroseliu WHAT IS THIS?????

alicuntrival Y/N????

ynthinker YOU JUST BEING SHAMELESS RIGHT NOW

ynarchive YOU REALLY DID SAY "FCK IT I WANNA THAT MAN"

second story responses in dm

ssavannahsmithh horrible day to post one story after another hun

ynthinkeer THIS IS NOT YOUT CLOSE FRIENDS

juanicar the gc IS GOING NUTS RIGHT NOW

franromerofran AND I WAS THE ONE DOUBTING IT

havanaynluvchild is this my new step father, then??

themaddieep So you just decided to hard lauch? Good for u

third story responses in dm

vogrincicenzo i mean, it's a very nice music

vogrincicenzo i do have somenthings to talk about it, maybe give you more inspiration over a cup of coffee

vogrincicenzo Counting that you won't get me arrested during the conversation for now

"What if i kissed you right now?" Please, do! AND HE DID.

That was amazing. When they kissed I really felt a little warm in my heart. Your writing is incredible!

what if? ✧˚ · .

summary: your best friend Steve makes sure you arrive home safe from a party but you ask him to stay. also, he walks in while you’re changing prompt

genre/warnings: best friends in love, fluff, a little of suggestiveness

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈

“You’re drunk” he declares, grabbing you from under your arm, passing it behind his shoulders and surrounding your waist with his free hand.

“Steve, for the love of god. I barely had two beers. You’re being dramatic” you protested and tried to get rid of his grip. As soon as he felt you move, he held you more firmly, pressing his fingers a little on your waist, exposed because your restlessness made your shirt roll up. You felt butterflies in your stomach and a pleasant warmth a little further down...

“Don’t be stubborn. Let me help you, I don’t care how many beers you had”

You sighed and let him guide you to your bedroom through the darkness of your living room. Even though he’s been at your place so many times, he forgets about the coffee table right next to your bedroom’s door. He trips with it and curses “Shit! Auch!”

A snort escapes your throat and you hide your face in his neck, still laughing. You weren't really drunk, your best friend was acting overly protective when he had had more beer than you, after all. But, anyways, the little alcohol you had consumed made you more mocking than usual. Steve always says that you annoy him with that silly mood you have when you’re not completely sober. Actually he loves it.

“Y/n! I hit my little finger. I’m in pain and you're making fun of me!” He complains, half-serious, half-joking.

“You’re such a baby boy. I can't breathe” you tried to say, but your laughter drowned out your words. Steve did listen the cute way you called him, and blushed while secretly enjoying how your hair tickled his skin.

Those kinds of moments made him want to stay like this forever. They increase his adoration for you but also make him a little sad, because he knows you have so many guys behind you and he thinks he doesn't stand a chance with you. He lives thinking that he has to settle with just being your friend, seeing you as the brightest but most distant star, when in reality you considered yourself his property without needing a title for your special bond, because you love everything that his being represents for you.

You’ve been standing there laughing like idiots right outside your room for a while longer than necessary, as if you’ve heard the best joke in the world instead of laughing over something stupid. But it was like that with Steve, even the dumbest and simplest moments became unparalleled memories. With him everything was so natural and pleasant without too much effort. With him, the small things weren’t small, injecting your heart with warm doses of happiness every time you see his beautiful smile crinkle the corners of his eyes.

Out of nowhere, when the laughter was fading into the silence of the empty apartment, you were surprised with the feeling of two hands grabbing the inside of your legs and suddenly Steve lifted you off the ground, carrying you with his arm securing you on your back .

"Let’s get you to rest, honey. It’s late"

You giggle and grab the edge of his shirt, giving you stability. The closeness burning your skin exquisitely and the smell of alcohol mixed with his perfume which you yourself had bought for him was making you dizzy in the most charming way possible. As if Steve was your own personalized drug, your biggest weakness and your greatest dream.

He finally opens the door, struggling with the bundle and then kicking it to get inside. He walks slowly and bends over to deposit you on your bed delicately, as if you were a fragile and very expensive porcelain doll or a shiny gemstone.

You immediately missed his warmth and scent and got up supporting yourself with your arms extended behind on the mattress at the same time that he sat sideways on the bed. You skirt slid up a bit, revealing more of your thigh. The detail did not go unnoticed neither for him nor for you, both looking down, your cheeks hot. You weren't wearing any shorts underneath and you weren't sure if from his angle he could see more than he should, but he cautiously reached for your leg and you tensed, not knowing what to expect. He realized you froze, and moved even slower, taking the edge of the skirt and adjusting it without leaving your shaking gaze.

His subtle gesture and how his eyes seemed to deepen your soul, stole your words and electrified your bones. That kind of gaze that threatened to get tattooed in the most hidden of your thoughts. You’re not usually nervous around him, because he’s your comfort zone and even though you feel attracted to him, everything’s always been so organic between the two of you. But now his fingers tracing slow circles on your thigh felt like dancing stars, and his hair falling on his forehead was torturing your willpower, which was conflicted between kissing him or ensuring that your friendship with him remained intact.

It had been a while since the last time you had so eagerly wanted to kiss him, but you were sure that this time everything was much more intense. Maybe the late hour, the tiredness and the beer were playing cupid all together.

“I’m gonna get changed” you told him, balancing your eyes between his touch and his face, low voice as if the atmosphere of intimacy could be broken.

He leaned back, lengthening the space between you against your will. "So I brought you to your bed with a bridal-style entrance so you just told me you were planning to change?" He claimed you with false offense. He cut the tension in the air, replacing it with the familiar silly energy that characterized you both.

You giggled looking down, to then glance at him again, your eyelashes doing that subtle maneuver that made him lose all of his confidence, melting at your feet.

"I'm sorry Romeo, but you know how much I hate sleeping in makeup. Anyway," you squeezed his cheek briefly as you stood up, "the entrance was memorable”.

Steve was grinning like a fool, playing with your sheets underneath him while he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. Different scenarios fluttered through his mind, your name being the protagonist in each of those tiny movies that were built in his imagination.

You’ve been friends for a long time but no matter how many people appeared, his heart belonged to you. He had had opportunity with multiple girls, one prettier and more charismatic than the previous one, but none of them made him feel a quarter of what you did.

None had a voice as sweet and intoxicating as yours, none jumped in his arms despite having seen him in the last 24 hours as you do, none cooked such good pancakes as yours. No one could be as perfect as you, and that screwed up his existence because he wanted you so much and did not dare to risk what you had.

The boy had been distracted, lost in himself, when you came out of the bathroom. But to his surprise, you weren't fully dressed. Pajama shorts showing the edges of your buttocks and nothing on top. Tits in the air.

"Hey!" you screamed unprepared as soon as you set a foot outside the bathroom, on the carpet of your room. Steve's eyes rested for a microscopic second on your breasts before you covered yourself with your hands.

"OH! OH! I'M HERE" Steve yelled in a high-pitched voice, moving quickly as if looking for something to do and finally covering his eyes like a small child. As if he had never seen a woman in his life. "I- er- I’m sorry. Didn’t see anything, I promise”. That’s a lie.

"Steve! I thought you had left! Everything was so quiet, I didn't hear anything"

"I- I was quiet, distracted. Sorry"

You melted with tenderness seeing him there, with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands timidly covering his face. He looked so vulnerable, embarrassed and... God, he was so cute.

"You can open your eyes now, idiot"

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Right" he blinked a few times and raised his head, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Could you pass me that shirt?" you pointed to the chair at your desk. He got up immediately and went to grab it for you, handing it to you in silence. From there, he could see your reflection in the bathroom mirror, your bare back and your thick legs recently shaved for the party you just went to.

He didn't have the slightest knowledge in art history, but for some reason with the shape of your back and the softness it showed, it seemed to him that you had come out of a painting from the romanticism era, that deserved to be protected in a museum delighting with its spectacular appearance.

“Thank you. You can put this one on the chair. It’s too tight to sleep with it” you said softly, handing him the shirt that you picked at first.

It wasn’t long until you came out -now fully dressed-, and found Steve looking through your window, hair a little messy and his expression sleepy. He turned with his hands on his pockets and yawned as you climbed to your bed, adjusting pillows behind your head.

“I better be going. ‘S late” he mumbles.

“Stevie, you can spend the night here. I don’t mind. And I can make pancakes for breakfast” you launch the last words with a particular tone to sweeten him with your invitation. He grins and balances in his feet.

“You know, I’m kind of tired to sleep in your couch. I’ll rest better in my bed. Let’s leave it for later, ok?”

All the times you had slept in each other's house, you had slept apart, respecting a certain distance despite being such friends. There was enough trust, but the mutual attraction made sleeping together a tense idea.

You bit your tongue for one second and the next you straightened up. You couldn't get it out of your mind how his cheeks blushed when he barely looked at your breasts, or how warm that made you feel. You wanted to say something, because you didn't want him to leave. Your nerves tried to pull you back but an inner voice told you those nerves were not enough reason to stay stiff and not allow yourself what you wished. Then, you opened your mouth and before rethinking you spat:

“You can sleep with me”

You didn't realize how your words came out until his neck jerked in your direction, eyes wide and mouth set in a serious fine line.

You laughed awkwardly running your hands over your face "I mean, we can share the bed". You didn't know if that had sounded better or worse.

"Oh, no no. I understood you, don't worry" he cleared his throat.

God, why was everything so tense tonight? you thought. He swallowed so hard that you could see the movement of his Adan’s apple even when he was so far away from you. “I think I still have your green pants if you wanna use ’em”

He nodded. “Sure. I forgot you're a thief when it comes to my clothes” he said with a smirk, taking off his shirt.

Shit shit shit.

You’ve seen him so many times shirtless but this time was different, like it meant more. This burning wanting that’s been creasing up in you tonight was playing with your self control. He crawled into your bed after getting changed, comfortable and grabbing a glass of water for you, because he knows you like to have one on the table beside your bed if you get thirsty in the middle of the night.

The mattress sinking lower than normal beside you as he supported his weight and turned toward you on his side. "You'll have to share your blanket tonight" he teased you. You pulled the blanket over his face and he pulled it back with laughter.

"And you will have to control your sleep talking. You scare me"

Steve comes a little closer to you and wraps his arm around you, gently stroking from your shoulder to your wrist over and over again.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the relaxation of his display of affection. You weren't even the type to love being touchy with people, but with Steve you adored physical contact. With him everything felt like a beautiful summer day, a field of flowers or a perfectly sweetened coffee in the morning.

"Do you want me to scratch your back?" As soon as you drop the offer, he grinned and hummed in response. He turned around to give you better access and you started gently scratching at his skin, using his dark moles scattered everywhere to unite them with your fingernails, forming imaginary constellations that you had previously memorized.

He sighed with pleasure, crazy with the incredible sensation and the patience with which you did it. He wouldn’t want to be in any other place than there, between your love, your sheets and the soft aroma of the vanilla candle that rested on your desk.

“Wanna play what if?” He suddenly says, raspy and distant voice due he was giving you his back.

“Ok” you agreed. That was like your personal game with him, the one you always played when you were bored or wanted to have interesting conversations. It never failed, and over time it has become your thing. Probably you would get offended if he played it with someone else. That would be betraying a deal that’s never been made.

He started the game. “What if…” he remained silent, thinking. “What if you had to choose between being a horse or a cow?”

You snorted at how absurd that first question was.

“What?” he was genuinely confused with your reaction.

“I was kind of expecting a deeper question” you explained, your cheeks hurting from laughing.

He made a noise of annoyance. “We’ll get there, honey. Don’t be such a complainer. Answer and that’s it"

"In a vegan world or...?"

"What the fuck, y/n" he laughed hard and his back moved under your hands.

"Just asking"

"In a non-vegan world or whatever. Don't think about it so much, cow or horse?"

You knew your answer, but you pretended to deliberate it for a few moments to create expectation.

"Horse. They have better hair and good legs"

He turned again until he was in the same position as before, facing each other, eyes barely visible in the dim light. He was so beautiful you couldn’t tolerate it.

"Okay. Your turn"

You timidly began to play with the hair on his chest. It was an impulse, something you wouldn't do if you were more aware of your actions and their repercussions. You noticed that he tensed a bit but he didn't push you away, he was just surprised at your decisive gesture.

“What if you found a way to become rich very quickly but it is completely illegal?”

“Ok, em- my question was kinda dumb compered to yours” he admits, gaze falling to your neck.

You smirk and put a hair strand behind your ear.

“Well,” he starts “considering that I’ve been in another dimension and I’ve fought with supernatural creatures, I don’t think getting caught by the police scares me anymore. I’d do it”

You hummed. “Fair. I accept your logic”

“Thanks, ma’am” he nodded.

It was his turn to ask, but he was quiet without continuing with the game. It wasn't that he was distracted or thinking about what to ask, as you thought had happened. In fact, he knew well what he could say next, but he also knew that it could permanently change the course not only of the dynamic but of everything he had considered safe in his entire life.

Steve took your hand that was still playing on his chest and laced his fingers between yours, gently but firmly, drawing little patterns on the back and taking a deep breath before saying:

"What if i kissed you right now?" his voice was no longer the confident one he used to show everyone. He sounded somewhat unstable, testing the ground.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Your heart was going to explode in your chest from how fast it was beating, so strong that surely he could hear it too.

His eyes went from penetrating yours to perch on your lips, half open temptingly calling him. You were so close. That close that you didn’t want to breath strongly, acting so carefully. “What would you do then?" he rumbled, words getting warmer and warmer as he leaned even closer, pressing you to his chest.

"I- I think..." you were shaking, but he was dying to have your answer and you were trying to please him "I- I think I’d kiss you back"

That was all Steve wanted to hear from you, a simple permission that would grant him the chance to cut the few inches that were separating you and finally relieve the tension that has built up for so long, but has felt specially more evident that precise night.

He brushed your lower lip with his thumb as a last warning before kissing you. You almost moaned against his mouth. It wasn't a rough kiss, but you could feel his desperation in the way he pressed you towards him. He needed the air you breathed. It belonged to him and after so much he has it in his possession, only for him to enjoy his divinity. Your divinity.

This was your first real kiss together, which was nothing compared to those silly pecks playing spin the bottle or doing any stupid dare.

That kiss was a long-awaited miracle, a shared secret, a collapse of emotions. As if the puzzle pieces of the entire universe fit together with the joining of your mouths.

You were both consumed with the sensation of your skins touching everywhere and your flavors mixing in a tuned dance of tongues.

You had wasted too much time believing you didn't reciprocate your feelings, when both craved for each other's attention hungrily. Neither of you had the slightest idea of ​​how many times you had thought about the other at the same time, imagining the situation in which you were involved in that exact moment.

After considerable seconds, you parted just long enough to recover, gasping for breath and not able to speak properly.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time" he stammered with a loving smile and pressed his forehead to yours.

That night you slept in the arms you’ve been wanting forever and woke up the next morning with the man you’ve been crushing on since you have memory, wishing it would always stay like that, so you never have to say goodbye to that pretty smile, that hair and that mischievous sparkle Steve Harrington, your best friend, had.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈

feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3

my masterlist

@stingrayextraordinaire @oblivion-void @kurvalevel300 @tommy-braccoli @marvel813 @hxlyhoax @seratoninsickness @carpediem1219 @peonysleeve @m-rae23 @one-sweet-gubler @cashmyflow @disturbedbeautywrites @steveharringtonirlsblog @daphnaie @fxllfaiiry @angelulls @lilith-hun

🥺😭🥰

TO STAY | BAKUGOU KATSUKI 

pairings: Bakugou x g/n!reader

summary: If the doctor says you need skin-to-skin contact, then you need skin-to-skin contact.

from the writer: this was supposed to be a cute warm-u-up kinda thing

genre: injury fluff, hurt/comfort (?)

wc: 1k

notes & warnings: reader has cold based quirk, skin-to-skin contact, reader gets injured, not exactly romance but… yeah

“(Hero Name)!” Your eyes draw attention to the voice, and your body starts to move on instinct to the call of your name until you see the smile of an officer. “Thank you for your help. We really couldn’t have done it without you.” You nod in appreciation, still kneeling on the ground littering in the ruins of a building that was, thankfully, empty for the most part.

You blink slowly, exhaustion overcoming you. Your torso folds over your legs to cover your forearms, hidden from the eyes of other pro-heroes that had arrived on the scene to help keep the crowds back and clean up, and yet, there is one that defies them all as the fall of their footsteps ring in your ears, getting closer until you see hints of orange among black. “Hey,” You look up at him. “Why the fuck are you still keeling on the ground like a fucking pill bug?”

Continuar lendo

I can not wait for this! If you can, tag me, please. I don't wanna miss a thing! 😍

Coming Soon.

“BEST WEEK OF MY LIFE” (ROGER TAYLOR X READER)

Summary: After losing a bet, Roger has to be nice to you for an entire an entire week. He hated it at first, but he slowly begins to warm up to you.

Note: This will be out once I passed all my requirements, I’ve already started it, and this might be a series. So if you wanna be tagged please inform me!

Omg. It's hot in here, no?

I didn't think you'd do it

If you had the chance to make out with Steve Harrington - would you take it? Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader Word count: 1,262 Warnings: A bit of swearing, alcohol consumption.

Not only did he scoot himself closer to you, he also playfully and confidently swung his arm behind you, casually resting it on the backrest of the sofa. You sat very still and couldn't breathe properly at the moment. The mixture of his strong scented cologne and his warm sweet breath near your skin almost made you pass out of dizziness. It was intoxicating, and it hit you. It hit you so fucking hard.

"What's it gonna be?" Steves raspy voice made you snap out of your almost hypnotized state, and you turned your head to look at him. Your lips parted automatically at the sight of him, and you did everything in your power to not exclaim a deep sigh. God, you were basically eye-fucking him right now. His brown eyes were darker than normal. Not that you noticed that kind of things about him of course. Why - why would you do that? It wasn't like you had a huge crush on him or anything.

You didn't.

Did you?

Steve smiled and bit his bottom lip while his eyes wandered down to your mouth.

This was your chance. Probably your only chance to actually kiss Steve fucking Harrington. Your whole body shivered with the thought of feeling those perfectly shaped lips on yours.

Screw this.

With a racing heart, you turned to face him and wasted absolutely no time before leaning in to kiss him. But you were no match for Steve. He was well-prepared for your attack and with no hesitation - and a small grin on that beautiful face of his - he grabbed under your thighs and pulled you onto his lap - as if you were as light as a feather. He completely ignored the fact that it was you that was about to make the first move.

"Shit!" you exclaimed and laughed nervously. He caught you off guard. You weren't expecting this to happen and you were a bit surprised by his action. Mostly because you thought this was going to be a cute, innocent kiss. One of those soft ones, that would leave you smiling for a couple of days. Instead you were straddling him, very much aware of how comfortably his thighs was. You were pretty sure this would make you smile for more than just a few days.

"Gotcha" he chuckled and held his hands on your waist to keep you steady. In the hurry you had placed your hands on each side of Steve's head, pressing your palms onto the wall behind him and you tried your very best not to awkwardly fall forward and ruin the moment. It made your faces being dangerously close to each others and you were practically breathing the same air right now.

Steve slid under your shirt and let a few inches of your skin being exposed, still carefully resting his hands on your waist. You let out a small moan when he slightly tightened his grip. The warmth from his hands on your bare skin, along with the almost none-existing distance between your lips, made this whole scenario a thousand times more intense. And you had barely sat on his lap for a hot minute. He leaned towards you, not that the gap between you were that big, but it felt like everything went slowmotion from the moment you realized he was about to kiss you. You closed your eyes and leaned towards him as well.

Finally. Steve's lips on yours, soft as a cloud - God yes, it was one of the soft ones! - with so much tenderness that it felt like your lips almost melted togehter. Every fiber in your body exploded. You got instant lightheaded and without even notice it yourself, you grabbed his thick hair with both hands to stabilize yourself from the overwhelming dizziness which kept creeping up on you.

Once again a moan escaped your mouth unintended, inbetween the soft kisses. This time it was louder, a bit more desperate. You felt your cheeks getting bright red because of the sounds you kept making, but Steve didn't seem to be bothered. If anything, it just made him greedy for more and he groaned eagerly. Steve dug his fingers into your skin, pulled you even closer to him, and before you could react, his tongue was inside your mouth, already fighting your own for dominance.

Stars was showing before your eyes and your heart beated so fucking fast, that you were afraid it would jump out of your chest. The only thing that filled the room was the sounds of your somewhat desperate moans.

Damn how this had escalated quickly.

Steve deepened the kiss, his hands only moving inches up and down your body, but his touches was so definite, that it almost made your body jelly-like. The effect this man had on you was unbelievable and you were effortlessly turned on. In some way it felt so wrong, but at the same time, the only thing you wanted right now was to go further with him.

What if you just…

…wait a minute…

… You opened your eyes, as music started to stream through your ears. The beats from Take on Me filled the room and you were suddenly aware of your surroundings. A bit out of breath, you pulled yourself away from Steve's lips and slowly looked to your left. You noticed that you were still holding a fair grib on Steve's hair, as if it was about to flee, and stopped immediately when you realized that Steve and you were, in fact, not alone.

"Oh. Wauw," someone said. Mortified, you pulled yourself off of Steve's lap and sat next to him without saying anything. You licked your lips unconsciously and felt the warmth from the obvious embarrasement fill your cheeks.

Robin looked at you without even blinking and repeated herself.

"Oh… wauw…"

Steve was kinda disoriented, and just stared out in the room for a solid minute, vaguely smiling.

"I-I think Y/N won the game. Yep. She definitely did," he said.

"It's not like you can actually win 'Truth or Dare', Harrington."

"Let it go, Eddie. I think Steve's right. That was without doubt the best dare played this evening," Robin said, finally snapping out of the baffled state she had been in. Robin smirked at you, and grabbed her beer from the table. "I gotta say. I didn't think you'd do it, Y/N" she laughed and took a sip of the beer, as part of the drinking game you had going on with your friends.

"Uhm. Steve" Eddie said cautiously. Steve looked at him, still a bit lost.

"What?"

Eddie glanced at Steve. To be more precise, his crotch. In his foggy state he didn't knew what was going on. But as soon as he realized what Eddie was trying to say, without actually saying it, Steve started blushing and grabbed the nearest pillow to hide his very obvious enthusiasm.

This evening had been both absolutely amazing, and extremely awful. You couldn't help but think of your poor friends who had just witness you and Steve getting a tad too excited for each other. You also wondered if the music had been playing all along. Did they hear you moan like a fucking porn star? God, you hoped not!

When everyone began to converse, you caught Steve's eye. He smiled mischievously and winked at you, before taking a sip of his beer.

You started thinking this wouldn't be the last time you'd be straddling him. But next time, you would make sure you were alone with Steve fucking Harrington.

Can't wait to read the next chapters 😍😍

Poor Steve freaked out there for a moment.

Eddieee 🤏🤏

If you do a tag list, can I please be added to it? Thanks! Continue with the great work 😍

Chapter 1: The Beighton Score

Summary: Steve’s new patient is full of surprises.

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: Howdy. Please enjoy part one based on the unfortunate way people with chronic illnesses are treated by the American healthcare system. This is my first Steve fic, so please let me know if I am doing it right! Also: I’m not a Billy Anti. So let’s keep things respectful to all favorites.

1997

The Health Institute of Indiana had been Steve’s home away from home for the last few years. After surviving the upside down, the party had to move on. Steve never had much direction as far as a career was concerned, but he knew he didn’t want to be rewinding video tapes for the rest of his life.

Academically inclined was not a phrase generally used to describe Steve. Math, English, history—none of these subjects ever received higher than a well fought for ‘C’ on his report card. This left him very little hope in the way of a college education, but with some help, he figured out what he wanted to do.

What Steve lacked in book smarts, he made up for in athleticism. So he decided he’d do the one thing he knew how: sports.

More specifically, sports medicine. He thought it would be easy as pie, but like usual, he was wrong. Without Lucas and Dustin’s help with pharmacology and biomechanics, Steve would have never made it through his prerequisite courses. But, by the skin of his teeth, he did. He gave the boys fifty bucks each as a reward with his very first paycheck as a bonafide Physical Therapist Assistant. Dustin said he required more compensation than that, so Steve promised him a shitty Gremlin from his dad’s lot when he turned 21. Steve still had a year before he had to make good on that particular promise.

His dad didn’t like the idea of Steve being an assistant to anyone or anything, and constantly pushed Steve to become a full fledged physical therapist, but Steve was just happy to have gotten this far. He wasn’t going to pursue anything further unless he felt he needed to. He was happy where he was for now.

Well, he wished Robin was here. About as graceful as a newborn foal, she didn’t follow him in his employment—not completely. She was here at the Health Institute as a music therapist. Robin replaced him with Eddie fucking Munson as her new partner in crime while on the clock. The two went floor to floor through the pediatric ward playing music to cheer up the kids. If Steve knew anything about music, he would have followed along with them. Instead, he was put in a makeshift gym that reeks of feet and menthol without his friend to make the time fly by. He missed her, and sometimes Eddie, too.

But it wasn’t all bad. He enjoyed his work quite a bit. The kids who came in were often in really rough shape. Some had to learn how to live without their freshly amputated limb, build dexterity and balance with the new hardware sticking out of their skin that helped straighten the bones in their bowed legs, or trying to help keep what strength they had as Muscular Dystrophy stole their mobility little by little. Steve liked to make them feel better, both physically and emotionally. Usually when they first come in, the kids look like wilted flowers—slumped over, tired, without hope. But after a few sessions of encouragement and sometimes a little tough love, they perked right up and their personalities start to show. In his gym, they’re not sickly and helpless. They’re people who are capable of doing whatever they set their mind to once they learn the tricks that help them do so.

Today would be a light one. He had six patients with only one of them being new. New patients were either scheduled at the first or last appointment of the day to ensure they had enough time to go over the exercises, explain why each one was necessary and what they did for their body, and mostly to answer all the questions parents had, and that was usually enough to have to add an 25th hour to the day to address them all.

Marcy Hargrove, a 12 year old female with unspecified joint instability and inflammation, was due any moment. He received the chart with her detailed evaluation and care plan. It didn’t seem like the kid really needed to be here based on the PT’s evaluation. She had all her limbs, balance was only slightly below normal, no recent surgeries or injury, and did not have any degenerative disease. She seemed like a normal twelve year old.

Steve wiped down the exam table with a bleached rag before gathering the weights and resistance bands he would need when you and Marcy walked into the gym.

“Steve?” you asked with visible shock.

Steve smiled politely, not really sure of the reason behind your bulging eyes and slack jaw. You seemed much too young to be the mother, but he didn’t want to make any assumptions. Last time he misspoke like that he got a smack across the cheek.

“That would be me. Are you sister or Mrs. Hargrove?”

You snorted and sat in the chair by the exam table. “No. Never. It’s Ms. Y/L/N. And this is my daughter Marcy.” You put your hand on the girl’s shoulder and nudged her forward.

Marcy seemed quite normal—short stature with long hair that hid part of her face, which started to break out in angry red zits. Like all his first timers, Marcy seemed very timid. Folded in on herself and fidgeting with the sleeves of her shirt, she kept her eyes trained on the floor.

Steve crouched on his knees to try and be within her line of sight. “Hey, Marcy. I’m Steve.” He held out his hand for her to shake, but she didn’t take it. Instead, she looked at his face—not quite meeting his eyes—and gave a small nod.

“Right!” Steve exclaimed, extending back to his full height. “Why don’t you get up here on the table and show me what brings you in.”

Marcy hesitantly did as Steve instructed as you began to rattle off her ailments.

“She’s got problems with her knees, elbows, wrists, ankl—“

“Hold on, hoooooold on,” Steve held his hands up in a time -out T and shook his head. “I would like Marcy to tell me what’s going on. That way I can get a sense on where to start.”

Taken back by his request, you scoffed and made a show of zipping your lips and throwing away the key before crossing your arms over your chest. Marcy, on the other hand, looked as if she was physically trying to bite back a grin.

Steve honestly expected more of a fight from you. Kids were the easy part of the job. Training the parents was the real challenge. Most of the parents he encountered would take up all the air in the room and never let their child speakat all. Steve could understand that the overbearing came from good intentions—the kids were deficient in one way or another and needed an advocate. But here, Steve wanted to teach the kids that even though they were different, they could still be more than sickly and had the ability to speak for themselves. Almost all the parents had a hard time being shushed, often calling him rude and arrogant, but by the third session, the kids were the ones talking so much that the parents were the ones who couldn’t get a word in. It made Steve glow with pride.

He pulled up his rolling stool and took a seat next to the bedside and instructed Marcy to scoot until she could sit flat against the backrest of the table. She did as she was told, and for the first time she was able to meet Steve’s eyes.

“Alright, tell me what’s going on,” Steve prodded.

Marcy chewed the inside of her cheek for a few beats before answering. Stretching her arms to touch her knee caps, she said, “My knees hurt on this side and they pop in and out of place all the time.”

Steve hummed to himself and pinched either side of Marcy’s kneecap before giving it a tentative wiggle.

Marcy immediately flinched away from him with a strangled squeal. “Don’t do that!” she demanded through gritted teeth. The cold glare she was giving him seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

“Sorry, Marcy, but I’ve got to see if your kneecap is where it’s supposed to be. So I’m gonna move it around a little. Try to stay still but if it hurts too much, tell me and I’ll stop, okay? Relax for me.” Steve once again pushed the kneecap to the right, waiting to feel the resistance of the ligament that kept the bone in place. However, the resistance never came, and the small disc of Marcy’s kneecap popped out of place, completely dislocating from its socket.

Steve couldn’t hold back the “Holy shit!” that came bursting from his lips as the patella stayed in an unnatural position. He tried to push it back into place, but Marcy whacked his hands away in a flurry of slaps. He watched in awestruck horror as she pushed the kneecap back into its place with little more than a wince.

Steve met the piercing and unhappy gaze of Marcy Hargrove, her chapped lips twisted into an angry frown. “You’re saying this happens a lot?” he questioned.

“All the time,” she snapped, gently massaging the side of her leg. “My left shoulder and knee more than my right. My right ankle and elbow more than my left, and my jaw.”

“All the time?” Steve repeated in awe.

“All. The. Time,” Marcy huffed. “I don’t have to do anything and things will just pop out. My jaw gets stuck when I try to take too big of a bite. If I run, my ankles give out and I fall, and then my knee buckles. If I fall too hard and try to catch myself, my shoulder will go out, too.” She exhaled sharply and looked over at you for reassurance. You gave her a sad smile and nodded.

Steve flipped through the chart again to see if he missed something. As he skimmed over the notes from Ori, the physical therapist who examined her, he saw no mention of dislocations or subluxations of any of her joints. Confused, Steve tossed the chart towards the other bed and turned back to Marcy.

“Have you ever been in a car accident or injured your knee somehow?” he asked.

Marcy shook her head no. “Never. No accident. I didn’t fall off of a trampoline or anything. It just happens and it really hurts.”

Steve stared into Marcy’s alarmingly blue eyes as if they held the answer. The only thing he could think of was hypermobility, but that just meant she was a little more flexible than the norm and did nothing to explain how easily she could dislocate in multiple places. .

“Okay, I’m going to check something,” Steve announced. “Can you touch your thumb to your forearm?”

Marcy looked at him as if he asked if she could spell her own name. With ease, she pressed her thumb to her forearm, her wrist completely hyperextended.

“On both hands?”

Without blinking, Marcy did the same with her right hand.

“How far can you bend your pinky?”

She laid her hand flat on the table and pulled her pinky back, stretching it far beyond a 90 degree angle. She did the same to her other pinky without Steve asking.

He asked her to stand to her feet, and she did gingerly to avoid further agitating the leg he just injured. When she stood, her knees snapped back, locking and curved like a banana in the wrong direction. He had her hold her arms stretched out at her sides, and noticed that again, her elbows sunk in much farther than they were supposed to, almost creating a fulcrum in the center of her arms. The last test he could think of was to see if Marcy could touch the floor with her palms completely flat. It didn’t come as a shock when she did it without struggle.

What did shock him was when she returned to her full height, Marcy suddenly swayed uneasily and dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Steve caught her by the shirt in order to stop her from cracking her skull on the tile.

“Marcy?!” he shouted, watching her clench her eyes shut. She wasn’t unconscious, but she wasn’t responsive either. “Kid, are you with me?”

Marcy didn’t acknowledge him at all.

“Is she a diabetic?” he panicked. “I have orange juice in that cabinet there!” He had never seen anything like this before, and it was scaring him. In ten minutes he managed to dislocate her knee and make her pass out. He looked to you for help, but you were already by Marcy’s side.

“She’s not a diabetic and orange juice won’t help. Help me put her on the table,” you instructed.

Steve was thrown off by your calm demeanor. He’s had kids puke before and the parents nearly gave themselves heart attacks over it. How were you not freaking out?

He picked Marcy up and laid her on her belly just as you instructed. She folded her arms under her chest and rested her forehead against the blue vinyl of the table. Marcy’s breathing started to slow and stabilize the longer she laid there.

Professionalism be damned, Steve was scared. “What the hell is going on?” he shrieked.

You crossed your arms over your chest and glowered at him. “If you had let me speak earlier, I could have told you that when she changes positions too fast, she passes out. Sometimes she knocks out cold and sometimes, like now, it’s just dizziness that will turn into syncope if she doesn’t lay down.”

Steve looked at you with utter confusion, not totally understanding what you were saying. “What?”

You rolled your eyes and snorted. “You never were a bright one, were you, King Steve?”

Bewildered, Steve gawked. How in the hell did you know about his high school nickname. He stared at your face intently, trying to place you within the halls of Hawkins High School, but nothing clicked. “Do I know you?”

Again, you scoffed at him. “Y/F/N Y/L/N. I went to Hawkins until junior year. We were in O’Donell’s together? Sixth period? I was dating Billy? Billy Hargrove?”

Without thinking, Steve laughed. “All the girls thought they were dating Billy Har—“ Steve’s eyes widened as he looked over Marcy’s still figure. “—grove. Hargrove.” Steve turned to you and blinked, once again trying to find some familiarity in your face. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t conjure up an image of you at all. Not in class, the cafeteria, underneath Billy’s stupid denim clad arm, not even at a par—

“Tina’s Halloween party!” Steve yelled, clapping his hands together as the realization hit him. “You were Jeannie from I Dream of Jeannie!”

He remembered that costume in embarrassing detail. Nancy had just ripped him a new one in the bathroom and Steve came storming down the stairs, nearly knocking you over. He caught you by the wrist and was taken back by the exposed expense of your belly in the pink sheer costume. He thought about getting Nancy back. Maybe let her see him make out with Jeanine and show her that she’s the one that’s bullshit, but he didn’t. He tried not to be that guy anymore, and let you go with a half-assed apology.

You were clearly unimpressed at how long it took him to figure out who you were. “That’s all you remember about me?”

“Uh, yeah? I don’t think I saw you ever again,” he answered with a shrug.

“Yeah, well,” you sighed. “My mom moved us here when I got pregnant.”

Suddenly remembering there was a kid in the room, Steve’s eyes snapped back to Marcy. He didn’t exactly know Hargrove on a friendly level, and what Steve did know about him, he didn’t like at all. Max was terrified of him, he beat the shit out of Steve, went after Lucas, disrespected everyone and everything he came across. But even through all of that, Steve couldn’t hate the guy. He sacrificed himself to the Mindflayer and basically saved the entire town, Steve included.

Wordlessly, Steve mouthed, “Did he know you were pregnant?”

Shifting Your weight from one leg to the other, your mouth turned down into a frown. “Yes,” you mouthed back.

“Was he around?” Steve pressed.

You shook your head no, even though the words you said loud enough for Marcy to hear contradicted your movement. “Billy was with us until he came back home for the Fourth of July. I’m sure you heard what happened. So many people died in the fire.”

It took a second for Steve to catch on. He knew damn well Billy was still whoring around until the day he died. He finally understood what you were saying by the look of frustration you were giving him, nodding your head towards Marcy with wide eyes.

“Oh,” Steve gasped. Billy wasn’t there, but Marcy didn’t know that—thinking Billy was only gone because of his untimely death and not because he was, indeed, an asshole. “Yeah, I remember that. Horrible stuff..”

Marcy started to stir, flipping herself over and slowly sitting up. Steve cleared his throat and asked if she was okay.

“Fine,” she answered miserably. “Happens.”

“What do the doctors say about all this?” he questioned.

“They think I’m full of shit!” Marcy spat venomously.

“Marcy—!”

The angry preteen paid no attention to you. “They say they don’t know what it is! They think I’m lying! They say I don’t have enough muscle to support being double jointed because I’m lazy! That I pass out because I just want attention!” She hastily wiped away the tears of frustration from their path down her cheek. “They’re wrong! It’s real and it hurts and I hate it!”

Within a blink, you were sitting on the exam table and holding Marcy into your chest as she cried. You kissed the top of her head and whispered soothing words to her in an attempt to calm her down.

Steve was at a complete loss, unable to really process what was happening right in front of him. For the third time that day, he reviewed Marcy L. Hargrove’s chart for a clue as to what the hell he was supposed to do to help her. There was nothing more detailed than the very vague “unspecified joint instability” which made Steve scoff. Ori’s plan of care was to increase muscle mass through weights, resistance bands, and strengthening exercises. While Steve wasn’t as educated as Ori, he didn’t think fifty repetitions of leg presses were going to cure her with how lax her ligaments were.

Sighing deeply, he went to the cabinets and dug around until he found what he was looking for. He wasn’t sure this was going to work either, but it was worth a shot if it could stop Marcy from crying and feeling unheard.

“Have you tried either of these before?” Steve asked, holding up a roll of multicolored tape and a hinged knee brace.

Marcy pulled her tear stained face from your chest. “I’ve only used ace wraps, but they hurt after a while.”

“Alright, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” Steve began, resuming his spot on his rolling chair. “We were supposed to start with some exercises today, but we’ll settle for the fun stuff first.” He pulled off some sticky adhesive pads from under the table and placed them on both sides of each knee, making Marcy flinch at his touch. “It’s alright,” he reassured her. “I think you’ll like this.”

He untangled the wires from the behemoth of a machine tucked against the wall and plugged the pegs into the channels of the sticky pads. “This is an electrical stimulator. The electric pulses are gonna interrupt the pain signals to your brain. It’s gonna tingle, but it shouldn’t hurt. I usually do this after we finish our sessions, but you’re getting spoiled today, Hargrove.”

God, it felt so fucking weird to say that name again. Billy had been gone for almost ten years now, and Steve only spared him a second thought whenever Max brought it up once in a blue moon. He wondered if she knew about her niece.

As he looked at Marcy, he could see Billy plain as day. The blue eyes, the sharpness in her scowl, the shape of her chin. Never in a million years did Steve except to be treating the spawn of Billy Hargrove. He felt a little guilty for being the one to care for her when Billy couldn’t. Or wouldn’t even if he could by what you were hinting to earlier.

“I’m gonna turn it on now. I can keep raising the intensity until you tell me to stop. Remember, it’s supposed to tingle, not hurt, okay?” Steve turned on the machine and pressed the up button when Marcy nodded in agreement. He kept pressing the up button, waiting for her to tell him to stop. She seemed unphased and kept jerking her thumb up as a signal for him to keep going.

“We’re at 54. You’re sure you're okay?” Steve asked tentatively. He himself couldn’t take more than 62 hertz without crossing over into the threshold of pain.

“Keep going,” Marcy answered encouragingly.

He followed her lead until she told him to stop at 70 hertz. She let out a long sigh of content and smiled at you. “Feels good, mommy.”

You grinned. Genuinely, truly grinned at her. “It must if you’re calling me mommy instead of mom.”

Marcy sneered playfully at you before nestling further down into the exam table. “How long do I get to have this on?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Steve answered, mindlessly spinning around in circles on his rolling stool. “If you want me to turn it up or down just let me know. Then we’ll lather you up with MintFreeze, tape up your joints, and send you on your way.”

If Steve didn’t know any better, he would say Marcy was almost smiling at him as the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “You knew my dad?”

Caught off guard by the question, Steve ceased his spinning with a loud stomp.

He wanted to tell her the truth about Billy, but the ghost of a smile on her face killed that train of thought. He quickly spared you a glance, silently asking what he should say to that, and received a wordless “Be Nice.” in return.

Steve didn’t see a reason to be nice, given that there was only one good thing he could say about the guy, but he legally couldn’t do that either.

“We were at school together,” Steve answered honestly. “He was in my gym class and used to beat me in basketball all the time.”

Marcy’s face lit up like a sunbeam. “What else? Were you friends?”

From the look of adoration on the girl’s face, Steve suddenly understood why you were lying to her about Billy’s true nature. The hope and unadulterated love sparkling in her eyes was almost too painful to look at. Billy Hargrove alive was an asshat. But Billy Hargrove’s ghost could be whatever you said he was, and to Marcy, he was a guy who loved her and was only away from her because he wasn’t among the living anymore.

“He had this really, really loud Camaro that he liked to show off. Drove it like a madman. You could hear him coming from two miles away. Two!”

They spent the rest of the time talking about the very limited knowledge Steve had about Billy. He didn’t have much to share, but that didn’t seem to matter to Marcy at all. She absorbed everything he said like her life depended on it. Steve didn’t think Billy being a lifeguard at the pool was particularly interesting, but it sent Marcy down a rabbit hole. “If Dad was a lifeguard, that meant he could swim, maybe even be a really good swimmer. Did he teach lessons? He probably taught little kids how to swim, too! And trained other lifeguards in CPR and stuff!”

Steve’s chest ached as he watched you smile at your daughter. While it was wide, it didn’t quite reach your eyes. There was a sadness there that even he, as emotionally stunted he was, could see.

Steve unhooked Marcy from the machine and asked her to tell him where she hurt. He applied a generous amount of the menthol based lotion to her knees, ankles, and elbows, making sure to be gentle around the spots that made her flinch whenever he ran his hand over it. She let out another happy sigh as the tingling of the cream soaked into her skin.

“Now this is kinetic tape. I’m gonna put it on your knees and elbows,” Steve announced. He cut off long strips of the multicolored tape and peeled the paper to reveal the adhesive. “This is going to act as extra support and help keep things where they’re supposed to be. It’s also been proven that the tape helps reduce swelling, so that could help with your pain, too.”

You watched him stretch the tape over Marcy’s knees, asking where such a thing could be purchased for future use. Steve listed a few special stores he ordered supplies from and recommended keeping the tape on for three days at a time.

“You can keep these on until we meet again on Wednesday,” Steve said, flattening the adhesive to secure Marcy’s elbow. “Ori has you down three times a week for the next six weeks, so save any tape you buy on your own for weekends if you need it.”

Satisfied with his work, Steve patted Marcy’s shoulder as a signal to get off the table. She winced and said that she could feel her shoulder start to give when he did that, and asked far too politely for a Hargrove to not do it again.

“You got it,” Steve agreed. He held up the hinged brace and raised his eyebrows at Marcy. “You should wear this at school or whenever you’re gonna be active just for extra security, but don’t wear it all the time. Braces stabilize, but they also let the muscles rest a little too much, and we’re trying to make you the next Kerri Strug, okay?”

Marcy nodded and carefully climbed off of the table. Steve tried not to react to the sickening crack of her ankles when she made it to the floor.

“Why don’t you go get a sucker or something from Alice at the front desk? I’ll put you on the schedule for Wednesday.”

Marcy smiled at you and took off towards the crochet old woman who snoozed on the job.

Steve turned to you and put his hands on his hips. “Look, if you’re gonna have me lie about what Billy was really like, you need to clue me in on what you’ve been telling her.”

Your eyes narrowed in disgust. “Are you judging me, Harrington?”

“Wha-? No!” Steve answered with exasperation. “I just don’t want to say something to confuse her. Like Max. Does she even know Billy has a sister?”

Clearly bringing up his redheaded friend was the wrong thing to do. Your lips twisted into a vicious scowl. “Billy didn’t have a sister.”

“See!” Steve exclaimed. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! If you don’t tell me what to say, I’ll confuse her, and I really don’t think you want that.”

“Or, we could just not talk about him,” you offered rather unhelpfully. “You’re supposed to be working with her, not socializing.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on. You saw how she lit up thinking he was teaching kids how to swim when we both know he was probably drowning them to see if the fat ones could float.”

You peered at him through narrowed eyes with so much intensity that Steve thought you could see his bones like an x-ray.

He sighed in defeat and rubbed his palm over his forehead when you didn’t answer him after a while. “Fine. It’s not my business. We’ll just steer the conversation away from Billy if she asks, alright?”

You rocked onto the balls of your feet. “I get out of work at six tomorrow evening. Meet me at Fuji’s Bistro by 6:15 and we’ll talk,” you said uneasily.

“No, really, it’s fine,” Steve argued, walking towards the open gym door. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

You followed him. “I don’t. But I will.”

He nodded slowly. “Fuji’s. 6:15 tomorrow.”

“If you’re not there by 6:30 I’m bolting and we let it go—Eddie Munson as I live and breathe! It’s a damn Hawkins reunion here today!”

Steve snapped his neck in the direction of your gaze and saw Eddie grin and wave like an idiot at you.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a sideways one armed hug. “Like seeing a ghost!”

Steve felt like a bigger ass for not knowing who you were if even Eddie knew you from looks alone. “You know each other?”

“Pfft. Yeah,” Eddie chortled. “Spent a whole weekend together trying to keep Hargrove from climbing the walls on a bad trip. That kind of war experience creates a lifelong bond, Steve.“

“Like I don’t already know that,” Steve muttered to himself.

Eddie ignored Steve and pressed on. “What brings you to our neck of the woods after all the time?”

You leaned around Eddie to call Marcy over. When the young girl left her spot at the front desk, looking like maybe she was bending all the paper clips into straight lines and rendering them useless, she came to stand by you.

Eddie gasped as he eyed the last Hargrove. “No! Way!” He stared at you with an open mouth. “That’s why you moved!”

Steve felt even more annoyed that Eddie could spot the resemblance without being told when he couldn’t.

“Marcy, this is Eddie, Eddie this is my daughter Marcy,” you introduced them. “Eddie went to school with us.”

“You knew my dad, too?!” she squealed.

“Sure did, kid,” Eddie laughed. “I could tell you some stories, but I’m not sure your mom here would let me live if I did.”

You whacked Eddie in the chest with the back of your hand. “We’ve got to get going. It was really nice seeing you. We should catch up sometime.” You steered Marcy gently by the shoulders towards the lobby exit. “6:15, Harrington. Don’t be late,” you said with a final nod and disappeared into the hall.

Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in and collapsed onto the lobby couch. Of all the things he thought would happen today, Marcy Hargrove was not one of them.

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