#(even though they both find so much life within each other.) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Premium Tumblr themes are available from anywhere between $9 to $49.

#(even though they both find so much life within each other.)

sexygaywerewolf · 1 day

Text

my new Ninjago OC!

more information ↓

I haven't come up with a name for him yet bc I suck at those but I've got a backstory

- He was outcast by his species before the merge because of a reason I haven't fully flushed out yet (thinking of making it so that he can't do any shapeshifting at all and making it an entire allegory), but he deals with a lot of feelings of inadequacy because of this and he thinks he's failed as an Oni

- he was outcast before March of the Oni and was lost between realms trying to find a way back home to the first realm without the power of the darkness to guide him. essentially the realm crystal is the EASIEST way to travel realms but it isn't the only way, and he spent a lot of years alone

-When the merge happens he's forced to live in a world he doesn't understand at all and a lot of people during this time are struggling to figure things out. He manages to find a job at Chen's Noodle House and starts to enjoy the life as someone who serves food so eventually he leaves with enough money saved up and opens up his own restaurant

- I like the idea of someone gaining weight when they're happy bc he used to be really emaciated and could barely eat even 3 times a week due to how hard it was to survive but now he's got a healthy relationship with food and his body and he's generally a pretty sound guy and pretty mature considering things. It doesn't look like he's fat in the image but from experience an apron will hide a lot of that lol

- He does a lot of introspection and his outlook on life is that "it's complicated and messy but at least it's life," and he usually looks at things from a realistic perspective while hoping for the best.

-He still gets irrationally angry at a lot of things though and often he'll find himself taking it out on inanimate objects and then he'll feel bad about it afterwards. He doesn't do it a whole lot in front of people, especially customers, but if he's comfortable around you you'll see him swearing and breaking things (usually with his claws on accident) a lot more

- Meets Lloyd a few weeks after the merge when he just started his job at Chen's and initially Lloyd is weary at first because yk he's an Oni and Lloyd had subconsciously associated Oni with bad and everything wrong in his life, but [name I haven't come up with yet] is essential to something Lloyd is trying to figure out so they need to interact and Lloyd figures out through sheer power of being exposed to something that HEY you dumb idiot your ancestry isn't evil or bad

- He had severe issues for awhile with meeting people's expectations and he constantly ran himself ragged trying to keep himself in multiple places at once. He felt like he had to depend on only himself for a while because of the fact he let down his Oni tribe and because of the fact he lived so long in isolation away from others. When he's hired by Skylor he burns himself out within the first week because he doesn't take a break except to go home and sleep.

- Y y y es this is meant to be an OC shipped with Lloyd but they're both demisexual here bc I will always make my favs be on the ace spectrum no matter what

-Hes 21 when the merge happens and by the events of s1 he's 27 (2 years older than Lloyd). He was outcast by the Oni when he was 15 years old (around the events of season 1)

-fun fact, Oni still have pupils in my hc you just can't see them very well. they're kind of like the changelings from mlp where they do have pupils once you look closely but they blend in so well with their irises that you can hardly see them. most Oni eye colors are red, purple, or blue. some are occasionally orange, yellow, and pink. [name I haven't come up with yet] has purple eyes

- he has so much fur/hair (think kind of like mohair on a goat) that he has to stuff a lot of it in his shirt and then use pins to hold it in place and he spends like 30 minutes each day just combing it

- he works out every other day to help clear his mind and to calm himself down but Oni are naturally pretty big anyways and really strong

- despite the fact he knows how to cook he has the worst appetite known to man and will not hesitate to eat the nastiest things ever. I like to think that anytime Lloyd gets offered gross food (as he's somehow done a lot in the show) he pretends to "steal" it but he does genuinely enjoy every single food he comes across and it's not just something that comes from his life of being outcast it also comes from his Oni biology. Though, he seems to be a lot more inclined to eat certain things even for an Oni

if it's not poison, it's food!

- has abnormally large ears for most Oni and he can hear slightly better than most people. it's also another reason why he stretch himself too thin while working when he first started because he believed everything he heard needed his attention and he was constantly trying to get to multiple places and do many tasks all at once

okay now imma go to bed hehe this was actually really fun

-has a better work/life balance in the future at the very least lol so dw

-has digitigrade feet! they're not very exposed bc he wears baggy pants all the time but if you look down you'll see he's never wearing any shoes and his paws are just out

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lego ninjago fanart #ninjago oc #original character #lloyd garmadon #ninjago lloyd #fanart #art #ninjago dragons rising #dragons rising #its so me to come up with all this lore and never give my characters a name #oni #oni oc #rossartisting

40 notes · View notes

cozage · 8 months

Note

congrats on 2k!! for the event, I was wondering for option one, with Sanji, zoro Luffy and laws reaction to their s/o covering their face with kisses, leaving lipstick marks?

Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law Total word count: 730

Lipstick Stains

Sanji

Oh you already know this man is inches within his life. Nothing gets him so weak in the knees like physical touch and affection.

He relishes in your kisses during the moment, letting you go on as long as you want. You can never give him too many kisses, really.

After the fact, any time he passes by a mirror, he stops to admire your love and your handiwork. He just stares at all the marks you left on him for a few minutes, his hands lightly passing over each one.

Some of the crewmates (Zoro and Usopp) make fun of him, but he just smirks and says “What, boys? Jealous?”

He struggles to wash it off. He’s a very clean person, but he hates to wash his face after you’ve marked it all up. You can very often find light traces of your lipstick still across his face the next day because he scrubbed so gently while bathing.

Zoro

Whenever you cover his face with kisses, Zoro…tolerates it. He doesn’t love it, but he doesn’t hate it either.

Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t look at himself in the mirror much, so he doesn’t notice the red-stained marks you had left all over his face in the process.

A few things tipped him off when he went down to dinner, though. Sanji is stifling a laugh at him, which isn’t uncommon. But Robin is also giving him a cheeky grin. Usopp and Luffy are both looking anywhere but at him, trying not to burst into laughter.

And you…your cheeks are flushed red with embarrassment. He rushes to the bathroom and looks at himself in horror. It took him a minute to realize exactly what was all over his face, and he let out a small string of curses as he grabbed a towel and desperately scrubbed at them.

He comes back to dinner, his face beet red (from embarrassment and excessive scrubbing), and sits down next to you, pretending like nothing happened.

After that, he always ALWAYS checks himself in the mirror after you come visit him.

Luffy

Luffy loves to battle with you on who can give the other person more kisses. Everything is always a game with him.

He wears your kisses around without even knowing it for a while, until Nami says something about it.

At her words, he rushes to the mirror and looks, admiring his face and all the proof of your love. He’s kind of jealous that you can mark your kisses so easily.

That’s when he gets an idea. The next time you two have a kissing war, he offers to put on lipstick as well, that way you can tell for sure who won.

And that way, you get to see proof of his love too.

The two of you parade around the ship with your faces covered in shades of red and pink, showing off your new designs and laughing the entire time.

Law

Law is not a man who enjoys physical touch. But if you’re alone…he’ll allow it. Sometimes, he might even enjoy it.

Especially if he’s in his study and you come in and curl up in his lap, softly kissing his face to try and get him to come to bed. You can be very persuasive.

“Go on to bed,” he finally says, shutting his book. “I’m going to get some water and I’ll be in a minute.”

He doesn’t pass by a mirror, or else he would’ve noticed the new addition. Instead, Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo see it as he grabs water from the kitchen.

“Love the new look, Captain!” Shachi teases, a mischievous smile plastered on his face. “You should keep it like that!”

Law reaches up to inspect his cheeks, but he can’t feel anything. He looks at Bepo, confused.

“It’s kind of…everywhere,” Bepo says, trying his best not to crack a smile.

Law quickly rushes to a mirror and finds his face covered in lip marks. He races out of the room without another word and back to you.

“Y/N,” he says, trying not to get angry. “Next time, please inform me when you’ve…redecorated.”

You giggle and pull him into bed, adding another kiss mark to his forehead. Scrubbing it all off can be a problem for tomorrow.

6K notes · View notes

radiosteve · 7 months

Text

I Knew You

Summary: You and Steve Harrington have hated each other ever since sixth grade, which made living next door to him all the more miserable. It hadn't always been like that though, shared smiles and loving gestures in secret before popularity went to his head. But now, Steve somehow keeps finding ways to squeeze himself back into your life, making you question if the boy you once knew, the one you might have loved, still lived somewhere within him.

Note: Its been a bit since I last posted, but I had this idea and really wanted to write it. I'm currently drowning with work and school stuff for my masters so my next fic might take a hot minute and will definitely be shorter. This takes place in the fall after season 4 and both Eddie and Max survived with minimal injuries. It’s also partially inspired by Cardigan by Taylor Swift, hence the lyrics as chapter titles. This ended up being way longer than I intended for it to be, but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as Baby), smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), enemies to lovers, language, mentions of blood/injuries, some cannon divergence, fluff, angst, slowburn.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 30.5k (I got carried away)

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time

The last salt of the summer air lazed its way through the breeze, picking up the fresh fallen leaves with it. There wasn’t enough foliage on the ground to worry about raking them just yet, but it still brought a chill down your spine at the thought of autumn’s rapid approach. You were sitting on the window bench in your room with a book in your hands and your back against the wall as the breeze floated through the open window, making the curtains dance despite being drawn back. It was a moment of quiet, something you desperately needed.

You were lost in words on the page before you, taking them in sentence after sentence, until the loud slam of a door interrupted your trance. The sound of the door was followed by singing, loud and obnoxious singing. More specifically, Steve Harrington’s loud and obnoxious singing. He had just strolled into his room, playing air guitar along to whatever metal song he was bellowing. A metal song that you presumed Eddie had played so many times on the tape player in his van that it somehow ingrained itself into Steve’s pop-hits brain.

You sighed, shaking your head to try and brush off the noise as if this was a daily occurrence. Well, it almost was, in some form or another. You lived next door to Steve Harrington for as long as you could remember. Your bedroom windows faced each other too, allowing each of you to gain small, often unwelcome, glimpses into the other’s life. Just about every girl in school had come up to you at least once to tell you how lucky you were to have such an easy way to see Steve Harrington. Then they’d always proceed to ask if they could join you for a sleepover at your house, no doubt just to get a chance to spy on the boy in his natural habitat.

Your eyes flitted back down to the page, stuck on the same sentence ever since your ears were met with the unwelcome disturbance that was Steve Harrington’s singing. He’d moved on from singing to vocalizing the song’s guitar solo, which was somehow even more annoying. Steve’s arms moved wildly up and down his fake guitar as he banged his head up and down. If you weren’t so annoyed you’d honestly be impressed by the amount of endurance Steve’s performance surely required. But you were annoyed. Annoyed enough to finally speak up.

“Do you constantly have to make so much noise or do you just like to hear the sound of your own voice?” your remark rang out through the open window, trickling through the air to reach Steve’s room. You didn’t look up from your book, doing your best to look unbothered. Steve stopped singing and thrashing about. His heavy breaths evened out slightly before he responded, slowly approaching the window sill.

“Do you constantly have a stick up your ass or do you just like to pretend that you do?” your eyes widened at that, putting your book to the side as you turned to face the window, to face Steve. He had a smirk on his lips, one that you were more than familiar with by now. It was the smirk he flashed each time he said something that he knew would piss you off. Quite frankly, it was the expression you were most familiar with seeing Steve wear at this point in your life.

“If there’s a stick up my ass then it's only because you put it there,” it was a lame comeback. You knew it. Steve knew it. But they can’t all be winners. You winced as the words fell from your lips, waiting for Steve’s retaliation, which was sure to be unsavory.

“I don’t recall ever doing that. But Baby, if you bend over I’d be more than happy to oblige,” Steve's smirk grew wider. Whether it was the stupid nickname or the sexual nature of his response that caused the flash of his pearly teeth, you didn’t know. However, you did know that you hated it, all of it. You hated that you constantly walked right into his dumb little comebacks. You hated that he seemingly had an endless supply of them just for you. You hated the day that the stupid nickname was ever aimed in your direction and you hated that Steve Harrington was the one to do it.

It was late September 1978. Summer was still putting up a fight, albeit a weak one, to keep its warmth in the air. It had rained the night before, washing away the fresh fallen leaves to get stuck in the gutters along the roof or in the storm drains beside the narrow streets. School had only started back up a few weeks ago, and somehow, Steve found himself climbing the popularity ranks. It was a big deal for a sixth grader who’d only just begun his journey at Hawkins Middle to be so admired so fast, but Steve was already starting to see people worship the ground he walked on. He liked the idea of it, that he could waltz through the door of some place and up and run it so soon. His dad always said that the Harringtons were winners, and Steve knew he would be nothing if he disappointed his dad.

Steve was walking to school that morning, Tommy and Carol to his left as a group full of his classmates followed closely behind. It was as if Steve had his very own entourage. They were a few blocks from the school when he saw it, a bike abandoned on the grass next to the sidewalk. There was a backpack beside it too, laying face down as if it had been thrown off in haste. It didn’t take long for Steve to realize why the bike before him looked so familiar. It was the same one he had seen you on almost every day that summer. The bike you rode to the library, to Lover’s Lake, to the movie theater, to the quarry. As long as it was a place with a good story waiting to be watched or read, or a quiet environment to immerse yourself in a good book, someone was sure to find you there with that bike.

Steve panicked for a moment, preparing himself to run to the police station and report that you had been kidnapped. But then he looked up. You were hunched over the sidewalk a few yards up, picking at something on the surface of the cement. Steve’s legs moved, the others following, and stopped once again, this time only a few feet from where you sat on the sidewalk. Steve’s brows furrowed as he looked down, finally getting a good look at what you were doing.

You sat there, slowly and gently peeling the dried worms from the sidewalk. Then you parted the grass next to the sidewalk, putting the worm down to get it as close to the soil as possible. Steve watched you curiously as you moved on to the next worm. It was then that the breeze picked up a bit, shifting away the hair that covered your face. Steve saw it, the tear tracks running down your cheeks as you struggled with the worms that Steve was sure were already dead. A few chuckles sounded from the group behind Steve, and suddenly he remembered that it was not just you and him on that sidewalk.

You too had suddenly become aware of your audience then, head snapping up to see the group in front of you. Your eyes landed on Steve. His expression was etched with empathy, an emotion Steve still held onto no matter how much Tommy tried to strip it from him in his sudden rise to king status. At that moment you didn’t care about the others or the tears that still leaked down your soft cheeks. You cared about the poor worms that stuck to the sidewalk. Your gaze landed on Steve, appealing to the boy who lived beside you for so many years.

“The rain,” you sniffled and Steve’s heart ached at the sound. He’d seen you cry before, as he was sure you had seen him cry too, through the cracks in the curtains obscuring bedroom windows. Each time Steve had to stop himself from marching over to your house and wrapping you in a comforting hug. It was an urge that he still had to repress, even here and now. “The rain cools down the sidewalk and the worms like to come out onto it. But it- it’s not raining anymore. It's too hot for them now. They- they’re burning alive,” fresh tears fell, replacing the old ones. They ran races against each other, fighting to be the first to drip off of your chin and onto the cement below. Steve’s mouth opened, but he was cut off by the boy beside him.

“Whatever, worm girl. Just move out of the way so we can get to school,” Tommy’s words rang through the air, the entourage laughing at you from behind him. Steve could picture it now, you’d spend the rest of middle and high school deemed as the worm girl. You’d hide in all of your classes, eat lunch by yourself in the library, and ignore the taunts that echoed throughout the hallway. Worm girl, worm girl, worm girl. You’d leave Hawkins the day after graduation, a car full of boxes, your life packed up and tucked away in each, and you’d never return. You’d start a new life in a new city that only knows you by your real name, not some playground-esque tease that stupid Tommy Hagan awarded you in 6th grade. You’d be happy there, build a place you could call home, find your one true love, and Steve would never see you again.

Steve had to stop this now. He had to bury the name worm girl in the ground before it could ever fully emerge. And there was only one way that Steve’s prepubescent brain could think how. Your eyes flickered from Tommy before landing back on Steve, willing him to say something, to defend you. Maybe that was too much to ask.

“Damn, that was lame. Worm girl, really? Are we five?” Steve pulled his gaze from yours. He couldn’t bear to see the look of hope that blossomed in your eyes. Not with what he was about to say next. “I mean, if anything, we should call her Baby since she’s crying like one,” small giggles sounded off behind Steve before being overtaken by full-blown giggles and laughs. And there it was. Steve’s master plan had come to fruition. Replace a bad nickname with a not-as-bad nickname. It wasn’t a great plan, he knew that, especially when he saw the scrunch of your brows and the quiver of your bottom lip, but it was the best that Steve’s 11-year-old thoughts could conjure on such short notice. And Baby really wasn’t that bad. It's a term of endearment for Christ's sake. Or at least that’s what Steve would tell himself.

Tommy laughed from beside Steve, throwing an arm over Carol and guiding her to walk around you. The others followed, hurling a few taunting calls of ‘Baby’ at you as they walked by. You looked back down at the ground, refocusing yourself on the task at hand, ignoring the cracks running along the foundations of your heart. Maybe Steve wasn’t the same boy you had grown up with. Maybe his middle school fame had gone to his head more than you thought it would. More than you hoped it would.

You had just freed another dried worm from its place on the sidewalk when you saw it. A pair of Nikes in front of you. Steve Harrington’s pair of Nikes. He hadn’t gone with the others. It was like he was rooted to the spot. You placed the worm into the depths of the grass, tilting your head to look up at the boy towering over you.

“Screw you, Steve,” you spoke harshly, doing your best to let venom lace your words despite the shake in your voice. Steve didn’t say anything back. He just crouched down in front of you, gently picking up the last worm from the sidewalk. He copied what you had done, parting the grass to place the worm close to the damp earth below. Steve stood up then, walking back to the group that had now passed you, heading towards the school. They hadn’t even noticed he was gone.

Steve rejoined them, sticking to the back of the group to not draw attention to his momentary absence. He looked back at you then, finding you with your head turned over your shoulder, already gazing at him with confusion plastered across your face. He shot you a soft smile, one that he had typically reserved just for you. It only lasted a moment, but for that moment you were more perplexed than before.

In that smile was Steve. The Steve. The one that had plaid wallpaper in his room and hand-drawn pictures of cars taped to the walls (some that you had drawn for him). He was the boy who had a slew of green army men sitting on his window sill, the same ones that he had given you. They sat pointing towards the street out front, and never ever at you. They protected both of your rooms. The soldiers protected them from monsters, wizards, ghosts, and disappointed parents. At that moment, Steve was the boy next door who left messages taped to his window for you to see. The boy who stayed a few paces behind your bike after school to make sure you got home safely. He was the boy who promised to love you always before placing a peck on your lips when you were both five. He was the boy you knew, not the one who humiliated you in front of his friends.

But the moment ended. The smile dropped from Steve’s face as quickly as it had appeared. He turned his head back around, putting more and more distance between the two of you. You watched him for a moment longer until you finally managed to tear your gaze from his retreating figure. You moved then, leaning over the grass to see the worm that Steve had placed there, worried that he left it too high up. Most of the worms were dead long before you got there, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from trying to help them. All the worms in the grass were lifeless and unmoving despite your efforts. All except one. It was the worm Steve had placed there.

You jumped into action then, using your fingers to dig a hole in the dirt. As quickly as you could, you placed the worm into the hole, covering it with the fresh soil. Its tail poked out just a bit and you watched with bated breath as it slowly retracted, moving deeper into the ground below. You glanced up at the sidewalk again, expecting to still see Steve in the distance, but he was gone. Over the hill and out of your eye line, just like the worm.

“Don’t call me that,” you bit through gritted teeth and Steve just laughed. His stupid, obnoxious, loud laugh. The one that warned you that danger was near anytime you heard it in the hallway in high school.

“Would you prefer I call you something else?” Steve pondered dramatically, bringing a finger to his lip and glancing up as if he were trying to remember something. “Maybe worm-” Steve began, a look of anger more prominent on your face now.

“Fuck you, Steve,” you cut him off before he could finish his taunt. He was about to say something else, no doubt another snarky comment that you could definitely afford to miss. It was about to spring from his lips when Steve was met with the sound of your window slamming shut. You locked it too, pulling the curtains closed and retreating to your bed, no longer in the mood to read. Steve stared at the purple curtains now blocking his view of you. Oh, how he hated that specific shade, knowing that they were the only thing keeping him from gazing at you.

Steve closed his window too, locking it the same as you had. But he kept his curtains open, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of you later. The hand-drawn cars that once lined his walls were replaced by movie posters, ones he had gotten for free from work. He still had the army men littered along the window sill though. Most of them had been knocked over on their sides and Steve never bothered to pick them back up. They pointed at your room now, though Steve never intended for them to do so, unlike you who had purposefully aimed your soldiers at Steve’s window no more than a few days after Wormageddon.

Steve sat back on his bed, laying down and placing his arms under his head. He’d made you mad. Gotten you all riled up, just as he had planned from the second you opened your mouth. So why did he not feel better right now? Why did his stomach hurt and his heart refused to rest? This battle was over. The war waged on but this was still a victory worth noting in the imaginary books. He hadn’t gotten the final word but he still won nonetheless. Isn’t that what he was supposed to do? He was a Harrington after all, and Harringtons were winners. Right?

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss

The sun crept along the horizon, unwilling to give in to the moon just yet. Orange and pink illuminated your room through the open curtains. You sat at your vanity, applying a final layer of gloss to your lips before smacking them together. Unbeknownst to you, Steve had been watching you through the window. He admired the effort you took while getting ready, although he knew you didn’t need it. Steve would never admit it, he’d repressed it for far too long, but he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

You turned towards your closet, digging through it to find a pair of shoes that matched your outfit. Steve couldn’t help the clawing desire to know what you were getting ready for. There weren’t any parties that he knew of that night. Maybe you were hanging out with Nancy and Robin. He couldn’t imagine why you’d need to get dressed up for that though. Steve wished your window was open. He would lean on his window sill, asking about your plans for the evening. He’d say it in that snarky Steve Harrington way. The way he knew would elicit an eye roll in response. But maybe you’d give in and tell him. Maybe you’d invite him to go with you. Or maybe Steve was letting fantasy mix with reality.

A car horn sounded from outside, pulling Steve from his thoughts with a jump. He didn’t realize he was still standing at his window staring at you. At least he hadn’t until you rushed to your window, trying to get a glimpse of the vehicle out front. Your eyes locked with Steve’s then and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. You brushed it off, refocusing on why you had come to the window in the first place. Parked on the street in front of your house sat a van. A beat-up, rusty, falling apart at the seams, van. Steve’s gaze followed yours, also noticing the van below. A van he was more than familiar with at this point.

You bent over, pulling on your shoes as quickly as you could before rushing out of your room and down the stairs. Steve jumped into action then, doing the same from within his own house. He burst out the front door just in time to see you grabbing for the handle of the van’s passenger side door. Steve peered through the windshield getting a glance of the unruly curls that rested on Eddie Munson’s head. You hopped into the van and Eddie looked up, seeing Steve cut through his yard and head towards the van. You fastened your seatbelt and looked up, also catching sight of the boy rapidly approaching you.

“Eddie, please drive. Like right now,” you turned to the boy next to you. Your voice came out shaky and desperate. Definitely not the commanding tone you’d hoped for.

“Sorry, princess. Gotta see what the hair is so adamantly chasing us for,” Eddie shrugged and you groaned, throwing your head back. Unfortunately that only made Eddie laugh at you.

“If you leave right now, I’ll do anything you ask for the rest of the night,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together to beg.

“As tempting as that sounds, it’s a bit too late,” Eddie points to the window behind you. You turn, seeing Steve standing next to your window, hand raised in a wave. Eddie leaned over, arm reaching across your lap to crank the window down, because he knew damn well that you wouldn’t do it. Not when Steve was standing on the other side at least.

“You’re like a goddamn jumpscare. I hope you know that Harrington,” you spoke, folding your arms over your chest as Eddie retreated back to his side of the van. He could identify the hint of jealousy on Steve’s face all too well. It was the same look Steve wore anytime a guy got too close to you or made you smile a bit wider than normal. Eddie was well aware of Steve’s complicated feelings for you, even though Steve sure as hell wasn’t.

“Whatcha up to? I thought you were staying home tonight?” Steve asked Eddie, resting his hands against the van’s door. He was close to you, too close. You leaned back in your seat, putting more space between the two of you.

“Well, now I’m not,” Eddie shot Steve a cheeky smile and Steve just blinked in response. “Ok fine,” Eddie gave in, unraveling under Steve’s stare. He hated lying to Steve, especially now that they’d gotten closer. “We’re going to see some band play at The Hideout. We’ve had these plans for weeks. I lied about staying home,” Eddie rushed out and your mouth dropped in shock.

“One look into Harrington’s sparkly eyes and you're spilling your guts? Pathetic,” you groaned from your seat. Eddie rolled his eyes, focusing them back onto Steve.

“You think my eyes are sparkly?” Steve quipped, a smirk growing on his lips. You heard Eddie laugh beside you and you couldn’t help the scowl that formed on your face.

“Get over yourself, Steve,” you moved your hand over the window crank, threatening to roll up the window, but Steve stopped you.

“Wait! I wanna come with,” he spoke quickly, eyes darting back and forth between you and Eddie. You couldn’t help the laugh that formed in your throat. “What’s so funny?” Steve glared at you then.

“Well, for one, you hate metal music,” you began and Steve scoffed.

“So do you,” Steve tried to retaliate, but the smirk on your lips told him he was fighting a losing battle.

“Sure, I’m not the biggest metal fan, but I like it enough and I love the energy of the crowd. Plus Eddie and I have been doing this for years. It doesn’t even matter, you’re not coming with us so you might as well give up now,” you spoke, lifting your hand in a sarcastic wave goodbye.

“Good thing it’s not up to you then. It’s Eddie’s van. He gets to decide,” your head snapped in Eddie’s direction then. You glared at him and focused as hard as you could. When you were younger, you and Eddie were convinced that you’d be able to communicate with each other telepathically if you tried hard enough. It never worked of course, but it never hurt to try. Eddie understood you better than anyone. He became your number-one confidant since the day you met. Surely he could pick up on your brain waves begging him to bar Steve from your plans.

Eddie headed towards the band room at Hawkins Middle with his guitar case swinging in his hand. He was early, intending to warm up on his own before the rest of Corroded Coffin got there for band practice. Eddie flicked on the lights, expecting the room to be empty. But it wasn’t. You were there, in the corner of the room, tucked between some music stands. You’d been curled into a ball and looked up when the fluorescent lights came on, illuminating your hidden figure. There were tears streaked across your face after a particularly brutal day of taunts from Tommy and Steve. Eddie set his guitar down and moved towards you slowly.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a quiet voice, hesitantly approaching. You remained silent, rising from your spot on the ground and wiping away your tears with your sweater sleeve. “I’m Eddie,” he spoke again, extending his hand for you to shake when he got close enough. You told him your name but didn’t meet his hand with yours, not yet.

“But everyone calls me Baby,” your voice was hoarse from crying but Eddie heard you loud and clear. He was an eighth grader but even he’d heard about the poor sixth grader that the popular kids had been calling Baby. It had moved beyond just them though. All of your classmates, teachers, and neighbors had adopted the name for you.

“Well, I won’t call you that, not if you’re not comfortable with it,” Eddie reassured you. He had been victimized plenty by the popular kids. He understood what it felt like, which is why he was shocked when you shook your head. His hand fell back to his side.

“No, it’s ok. I’ve been telling people to call me Baby to help reclaim it, I guess. It took Marissa the librarian forever but she’s finally gotten used to it. My parents still slip up, but that’s to be expected,” you shrugged. What you didn’t tell Eddie was that it still hurt when the name spilled from Steve’s lips. You weren’t sure why it did. But the more you were called Baby by everyone else, the more desensitized you hoped to become to it.

“Reclaim the name?” Eddie asked, eyebrows furrowed. You nodded, suddenly unsure what the boy in front of you thought. “That’s pretty metal,” a smile stretched his lips and his hand shot back up between you, beckoning for yours to join it. “It’s nice to meet you, Baby.”

“You too, Eddie,” you mirrored his smile, finally placing your small hand in his. Eddie’s calloused fingers enclosed around the back of your palm and two became one. You were inseparable. Inseparable in everything except for the reoccurring nightmare scenario that kept popping up in your life. You’d been dragged in early on, being one of the last people to see Barb before she went missing. You’d caught a glimpse of her through your window, sitting on the diving board above Steve’s pool, when suddenly she was gone. You joined Jonathan and Nancy in their quest to find her and kill the thing that took her. It sucked to keep Eddie out of that part of your life, but it was for his own good. Or at least it was until this past spring when Chrissy Cunningham became Vecna’s first victim right before the poor boy’s eyes. Then you told him everything. Your two worlds fully merged, and you and Eddie became totally and fully inseparable.

Your glare bore into Eddie’s and you thought you had gotten through to him. You were wrong.

“Alright Harrington, hop in. Quickly though, I don’t want to miss the opening act,” Eddie conceded, turning to face his gaze towards the road ahead. He could feel you burning holes into him with your eyes. You rolled the window up as Steve opened the van's back door.

“We’re so working on the telepathy thing again. Evidently, you’re in desperate need of a refresher,” you grumbled and Eddie chuckled at how mad you were at the addition of Steve to your plans. Steve closed the van door, lounging in one of the bean bags Eddie kept in the back. After what felt like the longest ride of being tossed around the back of Eddie’s van, Steve was never more thankful to see The Hideout come into view. The three of you filed out of the van as the sound of metal music filtered through the bar’s closed doors. Much to Eddie’s dismay the opener had already started their set. It smelled like cheap beer and cigarette smoke, causing Steve to wrinkle his nose.

“Go get us some drinks from the bar. Baby and I will get us a spot up near the front,” Eddie handed Steve a few dollar bills, enough to cover both your drink and his own. You and Steve might hate each other, but you’d been around each other in enough alcohol-fueled group settings to know each other’s drink orders. Steve beelined towards the bar, yelling over the music to order your Dirty Shirley with extra cherries, Eddie’s Rum and Coke, and his own Long Island iced tea.

He spotted you and Eddie pushing through the crowd. You were in front of Eddie, his forearm thrown across the front of your shoulders to keep you close. The two of you stopped not far from the stage. You leaned up to say something in Eddie’s ear, your back flush with his chest, and Steve felt a rush of jealousy run through him. Eddie had told him countless times that the two of you were just friends. That the kisses he’d once shared with you while high were just meaningless, drug-fueled, pecks on the lips. That was a lie of course, but Eddie definitely wasn’t going to tell Steve about the way you moaned against his lips until the two of you sobered up enough to feel embarrassed and swore to never speak of it again. Sometimes Steve needed to be lied to about certain things, mainly so Eddie wasn’t on the receiving end of Steve’s right hook.

The bartender placed the drinks in front of Steve in exchange for the wad of cash slapped on the counter. Steve grabbed all three glasses and began his trek through the tightly packed crowd. He’d gotten really good at holding a bunch of stuff in his hands at once during his brief stint at Scoops. Steve made it up to you and Eddie, passing the drinks to each of you. The three of you watched the opening band’s set, dancing as much as you could with drinks in your hands and a packed crowd.

By the time the opener’s set was over you had sipped enough of your drink to expose one of the cherries in your glass. Steve couldn’t help the way his mouth gaped as he watched you fish the cherry out with your finger, popping the morsel in your mouth and pulling it from the stem with your teeth. Eddie eyed the boy next to him, amused not only by Steve’s aroused reaction to such a simple thing but also by your complete obliviousness to said reaction. Despite the lack of music coming from the stage as you waited for the headlining band to come on, Eddie still had to shout over the buzz of the crowd.

“Show Stevie the thing,” Eddie gestured towards the cherry stem between your fingers. You shook your head in protest, but Eddie gave you his best puppy dog eyes and you were instantly beat. You rolled your eyes, placed the cherry stem on your tongue, and closed your lips. Eddie brought his arm up, glancing back and forth between you and his watch. Steve was baffled by the coordinated performance that the two of you were putting on in front of him. After a few seconds, your mouth popped back open. You plucked the cherry stem from between your teeth and held it up for Steve to see.

“Seven seconds! That might be your personal best,” Eddie exclaimed while Steve looked closely at the stem. It was tied in a knot. He took it from between your fingers and was about to ask how you did it when the band came on stage. Steve’s hand trailed down to his side, tucking the tied cherry stem into his pocket. He wasn’t sure why, but throwing it away felt wrong for some reason.

The band was really good, especially the lead singer. He was only a few years older than you and he had gorgeous, blonde hair that flowed down to his shoulders. Steve had scoffed when the singer winked at you during their set, but you couldn’t hear the sound over the music. The three of you had a surprisingly good time together, although it's pretty hard to fight with such loud music blaring throughout the room. Eddie and Steve were tasked with finding a table after the band left the stage and you got stuck with grabbing everyone new drinks.

“That was actually really fun. How often do you guys do this?” Steve asked, his pants getting stuck to cheap faux leather as he slid into a booth opposite Eddie.

“Once every month or so. It depends on which bands are playing,” Steve was listening to Eddie or at least he was at first. His eyes had been scanning the bar, trying to find you. When he finally did, his expression hardened. You leaned with your elbow against the bar, waiting for the bartender to come back with the drinks, but you weren’t alone. The lead singer of the headlining band was beside you. He was smiling at you, and even worse for Steve, you were smiling back. Eddie noticed the change in Steve’s demeanor, the jealousy that now filled the hazel of his eyes. He tracked Steve’s gaze across the crowded bar, landing on you.

Eddie was impressed. He’d seen you bag your fair share of hot guys after a show at The Hideout, but never had you managed to get with the lead singer of the headlining band. Steve, on the other hand, was not impressed. He was livid. It didn’t help that the lead singer had just placed his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he leaned in close to whisper something in your ear. Steve quickly slid out of the booth, stomping his way through the crowd of people, heading towards you. Eddie winced, knowing he should chase after the boy, but slightly curious to see what would happen if he didn’t. Steve pushed through the bodies surrounding him, stopping just in front of where you stood against the bar.

“What's taking you so long with the drinks?” He called out and your head shot up at the sound of his voice. The smile that had grown on your lips quickly faded at the sight of Steve. The singer, Corey, looked up from where he had just started to kiss your neck. He didn’t move his hands from your hips despite Steve’s pointed glances.

“Hey man, you’re kind of interrupting something right now. If you want a drink then ask the bartender or whatever,” Corey moved to face you again, but Steve wasn’t done.

“Hey man,” Steve mocked Corey’s words. “You need to take your hands off of her right now,” your brow furrowed in anger while Corey filled with confusion.

“Sorry dude, didn’t realize she was your girl,” Corey assumed based on Steve’s comment and began to move his hands, but you stopped him.

“I’m not, I swear. I barely even know that guy,” Steve scoffed at that and you shot him a glare. Corey’s eyes flitted back and forth between you and Steve. He looked more confused than ever, almost painfully so.

“I’m way too high for this. You have her, man. It's not worth the fight,” Corey held up his hands in defense. Eddie had just worked his way through the sea of people in time to see Corey back away from you, scan the crowd, and head towards some pretty redhead across the room. Steve looked triumphant as he turned his gaze back to you. Eddie thought you looked like you were about to go ballistic. He’d never seen you that mad before in his entire life. You looked even angrier now than you had when Eddie purposefully put gum in your hair and it got stuck so badly that you had to give yourself bangs to get rid of it. Eddie was about two seconds from sprinting out of the building to save himself from being a witness to what was sure to be Steve’s murder when the bartender, Dave, called out from behind you.

“Here’s that Long Island for you, Baby,” you spun around, revealing the Rum and Coke and Dirty Shirley that sat on the counter behind you. You thanked Dave, giving him a good tip, before turning back to Steve. Because even in your fury, you could still be nice to the waitstaff. You picked up the Long Island, marched towards Steve, and slammed the drink directly into his chest.

“Since you wanted it so fucking bad,” you pushed past him, not caring about the way the liquid sloshed over the lip of the glass, coating your hand and Steve’s shirt. You moved towards the exit, slamming the door open into the moonlit darkness outside. Steve took a second to process what just happened. He placed the remainder of his drink back on the counter before following in your path. Eddie groaned, grabbing his now abandoned drink from the bar and downing it. He grabbed your drink from beside his, knowing you’d need it when this was over, and followed Steve. You had made it to Eddie’s van and tugged on the door handle, cursing the long-haired boy for actually locking it for once.

“What the hell was that?” Steve called out from across the parking lot with his arms held wide. He was stalking towards you at a furious pace. You were so pissed that you didn’t even notice your feet dragging you forward to meet him in the middle.

“Where the fuck do you get off?” you asked in response instead of answering his question. Steve stopped when the tips of his shoes touched yours, scrunched faces mere inches from each other. “First you invite yourself along to Eddie and I’s thing and then you ruin my chances with the very hot lead singer of the band. You did that for what, huh? Shits and giggles? I don’t give a shit who you are Harrington, that’s too fucking far,” you yelled, rage boiling beneath your hot skin.

“He wasn’t that hot,” Steve scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes widened. Eddie, who had just made it out to the parking lot, was surprised there wasn’t steam shooting out of your ears at this point.

“Is that the only thing you fucking heard from what I just said?” you brought your hands to your forehead in exasperation. “You’re such an asshole! I thought it would end when we graduated. Like you’d grow up a bit after graduation day. Hell, Robin said you’d matured, changed, and left the King Steve shtick behind. Eddie is one of your best friends now, the boy you taunted for years. So what is it about me, huh? Why are you suddenly too golden-hearted to bully everyone else but you never stopped fucking with me?” you had gotten close to Steve, not that you noticed through your tunneled vision of anger. Your heavy breaths fanned across Steve’s lips as you awaited his response.

“I-” Steve opened his mouth to respond and then quickly shut it. He didn’t know. Well maybe he did know, somewhere deep down, but it wasn’t something he could say to you now. Not in The Hideout’s parking lot where a crowd had started growing around you. Steve stepped back, creating the space between you that you desperately lacked at the moment.

“That’s what I thought,” you stepped back too, turning to walk towards Eddie. You quickly stopped, facing Steve once more. “Do me a favor, find some other girl to lurk around for a while. It's bad enough that you live next door. I really don’t need you following me wherever I go like some fucking creep,” you spun on your heels again, grabbing the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand and throwing it back like it was fruit juice.

Eddie unlocked the van and you slid inside, slamming the door behind you. Eddie’s eyes met Steve’s with a grimace. Eddie looked at you in the van and then back to Steve. Steve got the message; Eddie couldn’t take you both home together. Maybe Steve was the one with telepathy instead. Eddie’s remorseful eyes searched Steve from across the lot. Steve conceded, gesturing for Eddie to take you. He was the one that fucked up anyway. If anything he deserved to be the one that had to call a cab. Eddie shot Steve a tight-lipped smile before hopping into his van and driving off. Steve watched the van’s taillights as Eddie rolled through a stop sign, speeding off into the night.

The light in your room was off when the cab finally dropped Steve off at home. He wasn’t surprised, expecting that you’d be at Eddie's trailer, erasing the night from your thoughts with a shared joint. Steve trudged up the stairs, opening and closing his door softly behind him so he didn’t wake his parents. They’d be gone for another business trip in the morning, leaving one less thing for him to worry about tomorrow. Steve’s window was still open from earlier, allowing the cool night air to seep in. He laid back on his bed, thoughts racing in the silence. And that’s when he heard it. A soft sob, then a sniffle. A deep breath, then another sob.

Steve sat up, his gaze aimed in the direction of the sound. His eyes landed on you, sitting on the floor of your darkened room with your back against your bed. Your window was cracked open, the way you normally kept it at night, allowing the birds to wake you with their songs in the morning. Steve stood, moving towards the window. You couldn’t see him from this angle, not that you would have been able to regardless with the tears clouding your vision. Steve frowned. An ache in his chest, the same one he’d felt whenever he heard you cry, flourished within him. He wanted to comfort you. To wrap an arm around you and let cry into his chest. To tell you it would be okay and ask who’s ass he needed to kick. But he couldn’t. You weren’t friends. You hated him. And it’s not like he could kick his own ass.

He didn’t realize, didn’t even feel it, but a tear slipped down his cheek, matching the flood that crowded yours. Steve lifted his hands to rest on the window, leaning against it as his brows furrowed over the broken look on your face. He pushed down, shutting the window softly, locking it, and closing the curtains. He couldn’t listen to you cry anymore. He remembered what you said, and he didn’t want to linger. The tear rolled off Steve’s chin, drowning a little unsuspecting green soldier on the window sill below. Steve moved away from the window and laid back on his bed. He felt around his pants pocket and fished out the knotted cherry stem. Steve’s eyes roamed over it for too long before he set it aside on his nightstand and closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep that night, no matter how hard tried. In the quiet dark of his room, Steve swore he could still hear your muffled cries.

Drunk under a street light

Black and white flickered from the TV screen, illuminating the dark room that you lounged in. You were lazing on the couch, mindlessly picking at the bowl of popcorn in your lap. The movie playing across the room did nothing to pull your unfocused stare from the coffee table in front of you. It wasn’t until you received a light kick to the thigh that you could finally shifted your eyes away.

“Okay, ouch,” you glared at Robin who was lying across the couch beside you, feet practically draped across your lap. She sat up, digging her hand into the bowl of popcorn. Her perfume scent lingered in the air around you even after she pulled back. It was sweet and light like she had just finished baking a batch of sugar cookies.

“You’ve been begging me to watch Casablanca with you for months and you’re not even paying attention to it now that I actually am,” she lifted her hand towards the screen before bringing her handful of popcorn to her lips. It's true. You had been dying to get someone to watch Casablanca with you for ages. Eddie watched it once and then refused to do it again after he ended up crying at the ending. Rick Blaine’s selfless act of giving up his one true love to give her a better life brought tears to the cold-hearted boy’s eyes. He made you promise not to tell anyone, especially Dustin.

“Sorry Rob, I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” you apologized, trying your best to pay attention to the movie again. You’d been zoned out for the entire first half of the movie, not that it mattered. You knew exactly what was happening on screen, given that you’d seen the movie a million times. It got to a point where Steve started keeping a copy under the counter at Family Video so there was always one available when you came in.

“Are you thinking about Steve?” Robin asked, her voice overpowering Ingrid Bergman’s as Ilsa confessed why she left Rick alone in Paris. Your head snapped towards the girl beside you and you could see the faint smirk growing on her lips.

“Why would I be thinking about Steve?” you answered her question with your own. The smirk fell from her lips then and she rolled her eyes. Robin sat up, pressing pause on the remote.

“Because he was totally jealous and caused some huge blowout fight between the two of you. And when I say huge I mean huge. It’s been over a week and you still won’t even acknowledge that he exists,” Robin explained, turning to face you better. You sighed and faced her too. You tried to avoid talking about Steve with Robin. Ever since they became friends it seemed too weird to talk shit about him in front of her.

“First of all, Steve definitely wasn’t jealous. He’s just a menace that loves to torment me,” Robin snorted a laugh but didn’t interrupt, allowing you to continue. “Second, Steve and I aren’t friends so me not talking to him for a week really isn’t that big of a deal,” Robin shrugged at that, seeing your point. “And third, how the hell do you know about all of this?” a guilty look spread across Robin’s face and you quickly realized the answer to your question. “Eddie’s got a big mouth,” Robin nodded in agreement at your words.

“I would’ve figured it out regardless. Steve’s been moping around for days. He’s really beating himself up over the whole thing,” you chuckled and Robin shot you a confused glare.

“What? I find it hard to believe that Steve Harrington even remotely cares about anything that has to do with me. Well unless it has to do with making my life a living hell,” you leaned back again, digging your hand into the popcorn bowl once more. Robin just stared at you, obviously baffled by something.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe somewhere in Steve’s caveman brain all this ‘torment’ is actually his way of expressing that he likes you?” Robin asked and repositioned the blanket that covered her lap. You stopped mid-chew, considering Robin’s words. You swallowed hard, sitting up and placing the popcorn bowl down on the couch between you.

“So what, Steve pulls my pigtails on the playground and it’s all okay just because he likes me? That’s such a toxic ideology, Rob. Not only that, but the suggestion that Steve actually likes me is insane. I mean have you heard the worm story?” you felt defensive, as if you were being attacked even though you weren't. You couldn’t understand why your heart wouldn’t stop racing at the thought of Steve liking you.

“Of course, I’ve heard the goddamn worm story,” Robin threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over the popcorn in the process. “And I didn’t say that it was a healthy way of expressing his feelings. It just might be the only way he knows how. It’s not like his parents are great role models in teaching him about love and stuff,” a quiet fell over the room while your head raced at Robin’s words. You’d been so wrapped up in your feud with Steve that you hadn’t taken the time to consider his life outside of you.

You knew Steve’s parents were pretty absent based on the lack of cars in the driveway. And it was well known across town that Mr. Harrington was an asshole, no need to grow up next door to figure that out. Steve adored his dad when he was younger, and talked about how he wanted to be just like him. But you had heard the fights that seeped through the open windows in the years that followed. The disappointment that filled Mr. Harrington’s face when he entered Steve’s bedroom and saw the movie posters lining the walls. You wondered then what Steve’s parents thought of his decision to forgo college. Whether they argued with his choice, fought with him to take a chance to change his future, or if they just accepted it, not expecting much else from their disappointing son.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Robin studied your face as you spoke. You looked lost, like you were questioning your past with Steve. After a moment the hint of a smile graced your lips and Robin furrowed her brow. “Still doesn’t mean he likes me,” you quirked as Robin sat up, grabbing another handful of popcorn.

“Oh whatever,” she launched her fistful of popcorn at you, hitting your face with the popped kernels before they fell to your lap. You retaliated, throwing popcorn back at her. The popcorn fight quickly ended when Robin picked up the bowl, dumping the rest of its contents over your head. The two of you fell into a fit of laughter while you tried, and failed, to pick the popcorn kernels from your hair. Eventually, you gave up, resting your head on Robin’s shoulder, the crunch of the popcorn sounding off as you did. Her shoulder was bony, uncomfortably stabbing your cheek with each delicate press against it, but you didn’t mind. Neither of you was very touchy-feely with each other, though you were never sure why, so it was nice to have a rare moment of intimacy. It granted you a deeper understanding of one another and a peak into the mysterious ways that each of your brains worked.

“Go to a party with me tonight?” Robin asked softly, not quite ready to leave the comfortable quiet just yet. You kept your head still on her shoulder and closed your eyes, inhaling sharply.

“Since when do you actively attend parties?” you questioned and Robin’s shoulder shook beneath you as she let out a gentle laugh. It was a comforting sound, like waves at the beach or rain on the pavement. That’s what Robin was to you. A comfort. Sure, Eddie was your best friend and you’d known him longer, but Robin understood you in a way that he didn’t. She controlled your chaos and balanced it with ease and truth. Robin matched your energy, knew what was best for you, and made you feel heard.

“Since Vickie asked me to go,” Robin winced out the words, anticipating your shift away from her side. Just as Robin thought, you lifted your head, turning to face her.

“So you’re not inviting me to go to a party, you’re inviting me to Third Wheel all night?” you raised your brow, eyes pouring into the girl beside you. Robin winced, shrinking into her spot on the couch. “Alright, I’ll go. Got nothing better to do anyway,” Robin cheered triumphantly at your concession, standing to go to your room and start getting ready together. You stopped her, gesturing to the popcorn that littered the couch and floor. She groaned, reluctantly helping you clean up the mess she made.

You’d walked to the party, arriving after everything was already in full swing. The sticky air reeked of weed and cheap booze as you pushed your way through the front door. It was sweltering inside the house. Sweaty bodies pressed themselves closely together on the dance floor, sipping on whatever deadly concoction resided in the punch bowl. Robin made a beeline for Vickie as soon as she walked through the door. There were familiar faces, people you knew from high school and whatnot, but no one you particularly fancied talking to. That is until you saw a mop of brown curls approaching with a black lunch box in his hands.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” you called out over the boombox that was blaring music throughout the room. Eddie wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to walk along with him. He guided you to the kitchen, stopping in front of a countertop littered with booze. You weighed your drink options, eventually pouring some vodka and Sprite into a solo cup, disappointed at the lack of cherry grenadine. You held up a bottle of rum pointed in Eddie’s direction, but he shook his head.

“Strictly business tonight sweetheart,” Eddie patted the lunchbox in his hands. You nodded in understanding, bringing your cup to your lips. “Where’s Buckley?” he asked, suddenly noticing the missing girl that he was sure dragged you here. You didn’t even have to speak, just pointing your finger to where Robin danced with Vickie across the room. Her hair was already a mess and her cheeks were flushed bright pink. You were about to say something else, keep your conversation with Eddie going, when he received a tap on his shoulder. It was some jock looking to make a deal. Eddie gave your hand a quick squeeze in place of goodbye and led the guy to the back of the house.

So there you were, standing alone in a crowded kitchen, regretting your decision to come in the first place. If only Nancy or Jonathan were there to keep you company, too bad they were both off at their respective colleges. Hell, you might even take Steve’s companionship at this point, because the longer you leaned against this countertop, the more boxed in you felt. What you didn’t know was that Steve was there. He thought it would be a good way to get his mind off your fight, but as he stood in the corner of this too-hot house, sipping a lukewarm beer, and listening to his old basketball teammate drone on and on about how they should’ve won the championship game their senior year, Steve realized he was wrong.

It especially didn’t help when his eyes scanned the room and somehow landed on you. You were alone, searching the room, presumably for a familiar face, when he spotted you. Luckily for Steve, you remained oblivious to his watchful gaze, giving him some time to study you since he felt like he hadn’t been able to in ages. He considered going over to you, to keep you company, but before he could even take a step, someone else approached you first. Your face dropped to a scowl at the sight of the freckled boy who now stood in front of you.

“What’s wrong Baby? Not happy to see me?” Tommy asked, a devilish grin hiding his lips. Steve was rooted to the spot, unable to move. He wanted to march over to you, drag you away from the douchebag before you, but he couldn’t will his legs to trudge across the congested room. He was never good at standing up for you, especially not to Tommy.

“Is anyone ever happy to see you?” you asked, crossing your arms and keeping a close grip on your cup. Tommy looked you up and down, hungry eyes boring into your skin. Suddenly you wished you brought a sweater to cover your bare shoulders. Steve still watched you from afar, his stomach turning at the desire that lingered in Tommy’s expression.

“There are plenty of girls around here that love when I show up,” Tommy grinned, leaning in closer. He reminded you of a shark with his teeth bared, waiting for a lowly seal to stumble into his pathway. “I could show you why if you come upstairs with me,” his lips came dangerously close to your ear, muffling the music that rattled the room.

“I’ll pass,” you grimaced at his offer. Tommy’s grin faltered and you brought your cup to your lips with a shrug, trying not to look too smug at your denial of his advances. That must have been what set Tommy over the edge. He reached up, slapping the cup from your hand, ignoring the liquid that splashed over you both. His face leaned in close as his arms caged you against the counter.

“Fuck you,” he spat, his face close to yours. “You’re just some weirdo bitch anyway,” you were scared at that point, terrified even, but you remained calm. Showing your fear would be the worst thing to do. Steve’s heart raced in his chest as he watched Tommy corner you. He took a step forward, moving in your direction.

“A weirdo bitch that won’t fuck you,” you fired back at Tommy and his face turned red with fury. Maybe poking the bear wasn’t a good idea. Suddenly someone knocked Tommy to the side, freeing you from him. You looked up, seeing a flash of red hair and someone in a striped shirt. Vickie and Robin.

“Woah man, we were spinning around and kinda lost control. Didn’t even see you there,” Robin leaned down to where Tommy now sat on the floor. She shot you a wink when he wasn’t looking. Vickie offered him a hand, but he brushed her off, standing on his own. He looked around, catching the glances of some of the partygoers, and stomped off, too embarrassed to continue trying to pursue you. Steve had made it about halfway through the crowded living room when Robin and Vickie took down Tommy in some sort of weird spin attack. He stood there now, watching as they checked over you. “You alright?” Robin asked you while Vickie inspected you for any bruises or blemishes from Tommy.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Think I’m just gonna go actually,” you looked down at your shirt, taking inventory of how damp it was from your spilled drink.

“We’ll go with you,” Vickie spoke up, taking hold of your arm as if she would guide you out. You shook your head, sliding her hand down to yours and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“No, you guys stay and have fun. I’m gonna try and hitch a ride. I’ve gotta know someone around here that’s planning on leaving soon,” you had no intentions of actually getting a ride from someone. But you knew Robin would never let you go if she knew you were going to walk home alone and you just needed to get out of there. You would ask Eddie, but you knew he needed the money he’d make from selling tonight so you didn’t want to bother him.

“Okay,” Robin nodded, granting you permission to leave. You gave her and Vickie a two-finger salute and made your way to the door. “No rides home from anyone on the basketball team. Past, present, or future. I swear all of those guys are creeps,” Robin called after you, turning a few heads as she did. You chuckled, continuing on to the door.

Steve still stood in the living room, watching the three of you closely. His eyes followed you as you trekked through the crowd to the door. Once you finally made it outside, his gaze shifted back to Robin only to find that she was already looking at him. She motioned with her head to the door, encouraging him to follow after you. So he did. Steve threw away his half-drunk beer and burst through the door. You were already halfway down the block when he got in his car and pulled up next to you.

It was cold outside, especially for early September, a chill lacing the breeze with each gust. It definitely didn’t help that your shirt was still soaked through. You saw the headlights of a car approaching behind you, brushing it off as you shivered and pulled your arms close. It took you a moment to realize that the car hadn’t passed you yet. You turned your head, suddenly facing a maroon BMW with its windows rolled down. A groan escaped your lips, but you still bent down to peer through the window. Steve’s car came to a stop, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of your exasperated face.

“You stalking me now, Harrington?” Steve let out a chuckle and a gust of wind picked up, making you shiver again.

“You wish. Come on, get in and I’ll drive us home,” he studied your face, searching for a sign that you’d agree. He couldn’t find one, your body unmoving from your spot on the sidewalk.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking. Plus Robin said no rides from anyone on the basketball team,” you shot him a sly smirk and stood up straight, continuing your walk through the neighborhood. You’d expected Steve to drive off then, leaving you to walk in peace. But he didn’t, his car followed alongside you. “What are you doing?” you asked, stopping again to see Steve through the passenger window.

“If you won’t let me drive you home, then I’ll just drive next to you,” Steve shrugged, looking up at you.

“What if I cut through someone’s backyard?” you asked and Steve shrugged again, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Then some people are gonna be really pissed to see tire tracks on their lawn,” he replied and you almost wanted to laugh at his persistence, entertained by Steve’s unwillingness to let you be alone. His smile faltered then. “You and I both know the kind of shit that lurks around Hawkins at night,” any amusement from before had slipped away. None of you mentioned the Upside Down much now, not after finally defeating Vecna. It was final, the battle that ended the war, destroying the Upside Down for good. You couldn’t help the lingering fear that you’d missed something, that one day it would all return. And here, on the sidewalk after some lame party, you realized that Steve shared that fear too.

“Ok,” you said simply, shocking Steve as you pulled on the passenger door handle and slid into the seat next to him. He waited until you buckled up before rolling up the windows and driving off. It was quiet in the car, the lingering tension of all the unspoken words swirling in the air. Steve heard the sound of your teeth chattering and your hands brushing the goosebumps on your arms. He quickly reached into the back, grabbed an old sweatshirt that sat there, and handed it to you. Normally you would’ve rejected it, your pride too inflated to accept help from Steve in any form. But it was cold, your shirt was wet, and your conversation from earlier with Robin still lingered in the forefront of your mind.

Steve didn’t expect you to take his sweatshirt so easily, replacing his hand on the wheel when he felt the weight of it lift from his palm. You pulled his sweatshirt on, reveling in the warmth it provided. It smelled like hairspray and lavender, a hint of boy mixed with the two. It smelled like Steve. Silence settled over the two of you again and Steve couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” the words burst from within him, head turning to look at you for a moment. You looked calm and objective like Steve hadn’t even spoken in the first place. “The whole thing at The Hideout was so stupid. I don’t even know why I did that,” you looked at him then, expression still neutral. “I guess I just feel like I need to protect you and I took it too far,” your brow scrunched at that, finally giving Steve an insight into your thoughts.

“Protect me? You and Tommy tormented me for years,” anger rose in your throat. You hadn’t meant to get mad, still considering what Robin said, but Steve’s twisted claim brought it out of you in the way that only he could.

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry about that too. I just- I just wanted to fit in, to be cool. But I realize now that none of that shit ever mattered. I mean, how important was popularity when the one person that I actually cared about couldn’t stand me?” Steve spoke and the tension in your face dropped. The one person Steve cared about? Was he talking about you? You took a deep breath, thinking over your words when the car came to a stop in front of your driveway.

“Steve,” you spoke softly, almost a whisper, like the breeze rattling through the trees. “I can’t just forget about all of it because you’ve abruptly changed. I can’t just decide to be your friend all of a sudden. You hurt me, for a long time. Hell, you still do,” Steve winced, wanting to turn back time to when you were five, when nothing bad had happened to you yet and things were much simpler.

“I know,” Steve’s head sunk, his chest aching with each passing second.

“I just,” you stopped, jumbled thoughts bouncing around your head. “I just think it’s easier when we keep ourselves apart. It doesn’t hurt as much that way,” the streetlights above reflected the swelling tears in your eyes as they threatened to spill. You hadn’t meant to cry, and you surely didn’t want to. Steve understood your sentiments. Being around you only reminded him of how it could’ve been if he hadn’t tried so hard to fit in. If he hadn’t screwed it all up.

“But maybe we could try. Try to be friends,” the words surprised Steve as they left his lips. They came out far bolder than he felt capable of being at the moment. “Group settings, public places. Baby steps, you know?” Steve tried to stop the hope building in his chest, too worried about the damage it would do if you said no. But you didn’t.

“Maybe,” you said in a whisper, a tear finally tracking down your cheek. A soft smile slipped over Steve’s lips, the same one he wore around you as a kid. The same smile you saw before he traipsed over the hill, leaving you on the sidewalk with the worms. Your lips twitched upwards for a second before you pulled the door handle and exited the car.

The feeling of hope now took full form, blossoming in Steve’s chest, filling every crack and crevice between his ribs. He watched you walk up to your front door, still wearing his sweatshirt, slipping inside your house with a small wave in Steve’s direction. Steve put the car back in gear, pulling into his driveway next door. He shut the car off and leaned back in his seat, still unable to wipe the smile from his face. Maybe. He could work with maybe.

You drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding

Eddie’s van was a mess. Your legs brushed against fast food wrappers while cigarette butts covered the floor, crunching under your sneakers. It smelled like weed and sweat with a hint of the black ice air freshener that you forced him to buy a while ago. It was early afternoon, the sun still high in the sky as Eddie made a right turn out of your neighborhood.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, shifting to look at Eddie. He had his hair pulled up into a messy bun that you insisted on doing for him. It was a rare and rather unwelcome hairstyle for the metalhead, but it was well warranted for the occasion.

“Because Buckley wants to learn how to play basketball and Harrington asked for my help,” Eddie shrugged, approaching a stop sign and making a left. You rolled your eyes, letting out a huff of air from your chest.

“But you hate basketball,” you groaned, wondering why Robin would even want to learn how to play in the first place.

“Yes, but they’re my friends and they asked for my help, so my help they shall receive,” normally you would have laughed at Eddie’s goofiness, but the thought of being around Steve loomed over your head. You still hadn’t seen each other since the party, just glimpses through bedroom windows. It was hard to say where either of you stood with each other. Becoming friends seemed like an impossible feat on your part, too stuck in the past to care about the potential future.

“Okay, so why am I included in this? Steve didn’t ask for my help,” you pulled your feet from the trash-covered floor, finally sick enough of how the garbage touched your ankles. Your feet rested on the seat and you hugged your knees close to your chest. Your head sat atop them, watching Eddie closely with narrow eyes, trying to figure out if this was some scheme to get you near Steve.

“Each team needs two players, Baby. Kind of hard to play a two v. two with only three people,” you let out another groan and Eddie smirked in response, knowing you couldn’t refute him anymore. He made a sharp right turn, pulling up to the outdoor basketball courts that sat behind the high school. Eddie turned off the engine and tapped your knee. It was his way of telling you to get out of the car and lock your door behind you. The two of you began your walk over and could just barely make out three figures through the holes in the chain link fence that surrounded the basketball courts.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear athletic shorts before. I might pass out at the sight of your legs,” you said to Eddie as the two of you walked through the gate, entering the basketball court. You barely had time to accentuate your comment with a smirk before Eddie leaned in close.

“Reel it in, Baby. Best not to flirt with me in front of Harrington. Wouldn’t want to risk him getting jealous again,” your face grew hot at Eddie’s comment, the thought of a jealous Steve stirring something deep in the pit of your stomach, something like desire. Eddie donned a stupid smile as you approached Robin, Steve, and Lucas in the middle of the court.

“What’s up with you?” Steve asked, noticing your flustered appearance. Your eyes darted back over to Eddie, who continued to wear the same shit-eating grin as before.

“Nothing, just ready to play some basketball,” you deflected and Steve nodded, covering the basic rules of the game. Lucas was acting as the referee for the match, making it feel much more intense than it should have. That’s probably why you took it so seriously, covering Robin as if your life depended on it. Steve won the tip-off, sending the ball back to Robin. She caught it and began to dribble towards the basket. She looked like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time as she made her way up the court, nearly smacking the ball away from herself in the process. You used it to your advantage, managing to grab the ball from her, dribbling up the opposite side of the court, and scoring a basket from the three-point line. Steve retaliated after that, shooting his own shot and tying the score. It continued like that for a bit, Eddie and Robin eventually gave up on trying to cover the both of you, which was how you ended up in front of Steve, desperately attempting to block his shot.

“Worried you’re gonna miss?” you taunted as Steve dribbled in front of you, your back to the basket. A cocky smirk overtook his lips then, bringing the ball up to shoot. It would’ve gone in too, if you hadn’t smacked it out of the air, stealing it for yourself. You sprinted down the court towards the other basket with Steve hot on your trail. He managed to get in front of you and you turned your back towards him, protecting the ball in the meantime before you could get a clear shot. “Come on, Harrington. I thought you were the team captain back in high school. Figured you’d be better than this,” you knew it was dangerous, teasing him in such a flirty way, but it was all in good fun, right?

“Oh, I’ll show you, Baby,” Steve practically whispered into your ear, his chest pressing against your back. If you weren’t so focused on beating Steve you would’ve felt the goosebumps that littered your spine. Steve’s arms came up to circle you, so you moved, pivoting to take your shot and knocking Steve out of the way in the process. He lost his balance as the ball left your fingertips. You felt Steve’s hands find your torso as you watched the ball tip into the basket, dragging you down with him as he fell. Your shirt had ridden up when you made your shot, causing Steve’s fingers to brush against your bare skin. It felt like you were falling in slow motion until you finally landed hard on top of Steve, your back flush to his chest.

Pain shot up your sides as Steve’s fingernails scraped against the semi-healed scars that resided there. You got up quickly, not taking the time to register your pain, lifting your shirt again to see that the wounds had broken open on both sides. It took Steve a second to get up after hitting the ground so hard. The others rushed toward the two of you, but your eyes landed on Steve, his gaze already honed in on the fresh blood pooling on your skin. His hands came down to his own torso, feeling the scarred flesh that matched yours.

After everything was said and done, the dust settled and Vecna gone for good, there was only the matter of medical care to worry about. Eddie was mostly unscathed, with a few bat bites here and there, but nothing some disinfectant and band-aids couldn’t fix. Lucas was sure to have a swollen eye, cuts, and bruises after fighting Jason. Max was delivered to the hospital where the doctors said she would make a full recovery but might need a pair of glasses. Which just left you and Steve. You had jumped in right after him at Lover’s Lake, fighting your way through the water as he was tugged deeper below. When you popped out of the gate mere seconds after him, the bats swarmed you too. It wasn’t until Nancy appeared, oar in hand, that you managed to escape the feeling of the bat’s teeth sinking into your skin.

The bats had gotten you good, doing just as much damage to you as they had to Steve. When the fight was over and everyone was safely right-side-up, you refused to get medical care, worried that you’d be poked and prodded while Owens’ doctors tried to study your wounds. Steve refused too, unwilling to be treated unless you were first, not that you knew that.

Robin and Eddie insisted on staying with the two of you to make sure nothing bad happened in the middle of the night. But you said no, pointing out that Eddie needed to stay hidden until his name was cleared. Not to mention that you just wanted to be alone after the strenuousness of the previous few days. You assured Robin and Eddie that your parents would take care of you if anything happened, same with Steve. They reluctantly agreed, dropping you and Steve off in front of your house, leaving the two of you to go your separate ways.

You were about to trudge up the lawn and enter your house, thinking about finally being able to sleep, when you caught sight of Steve’s empty driveway. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that his parents were out of town, and he hadn’t mentioned it to Eddie or Robin either. Steve had already started walking towards his house when you called his name.

“You didn’t say that your parents weren’t home,” you jogged up to him, wincing at the pain that shot up your side. Steve shrugged, also looking desperate for a decent night of sleep. Steve turned around again, continuing towards his house, leaving you on his lawn. You started following him until he saw you from the corner of his eye and stopped again.

“What are you doing?” the words sounded twisted as they fell from his lips, the same venom you expected from the boy who bullied you for years. Your face grew hot with anger, suddenly wondering if you should just turn back around and retreat to your house.

“You can’t be alone tonight, not when you’re in such bad shape,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to come across firmly in an attempt to discourage Steve from arguing with you. He simply raised a brow in question.

“I think I’ll be fine,” he moved to turn on his heel again, to scale his front steps and enter the cold empty house before him. But your arm shot out, landing on his arm and stopping him in his tracks. Steve froze, mind racing at the feel of your skin against his. He couldn’t remember the last time you touched him, given that you usually kept your distance whenever he was near.

“Steve, I can’t leave you alone in good conscience. If you bleed out and die, that’s on me,” you spoke the words quietly, almost sounding embarrassed to have to say them at all. Steve studied you, eyes roaming over your face. The walls you kept up around him seemingly fell in that moment as he caught sight of the worry hidden deep in your gaze. He nodded then, giving in and leading you to his front door, trying not to look visibly upset when your hand no longer held him.

The house was just as you remembered from when you were a kid. Clean and organized, everything in its designated place. It always frightened you back then, a house so pristine that it didn’t look like anyone could possibly live there. You followed Steve as he ascended the staircase, both of you winded and clutching your wounds when you got to the top. Steve showered in the bathroom attached to his room, offering you a towel and clean clothes before sending you off to the guest bathroom.

The hot water pulsed down on you, blood and grime swirling around the drain at your feet. The water seared your skin with each drop, but you didn’t mind, hoping the sweltering heat would rid you of the horrors you’d witnessed within the past few days. The sight of Eddie being tackled to the ground by a swarm of bats. The sound of Steve’s screams as his flesh was torn open. Your own wails of pain as the bats did the same to you a few feet away. Max’s broken limbs and unfocused eyes as Lucas held her in his arms on the way to the hospital.

You turned the shower off, unwilling to let your thoughts run rampant anymore. You were careful when drying off, avoiding your wounds to keep blood from soiling Mrs. Harrington’s stark white towels. She’d be sure to have a fit at the sight of a stain. You dressed quickly, pulling Steve’s old shirt and baggy sweatpants on. There wasn’t a first aid kit in the guest bathroom, so you headed back to Steve’s room, holding your shirt away from your body to avoid getting blood on it. You knocked gently on Steve’s bedroom door and it only took a moment for him to open it for you.

His hair was wet, a towel draped over his bare shoulders. He was shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips as water dripped down his hairy chest. Your eyes lingered there for a moment before trailing to the bandages wrapped around his torso. Steve’s eyes followed yours, landing on the gauze tied tightly to his skin.

“I seem to get the shit beat out of me anytime something like this happens,” he used his towel to gently pat his hair dry. “I’ve gotten pretty good at patching myself up,” Steve shrugged, hanging the towel on the back of his bathroom door.

“Can you do mine?” you asked quietly, lifting your shirt to reveal your wounds. Steve’s gaze flickered down to them, blood from each gash threatening to spill down your sides. His breath caught in his chest at the sight of your exposed skin. It was dumb, just your stomach on display, but it took Steve a second to contain himself. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, memories of your bare skin seen on the few occasions that you forgot to close your curtains before changing. Steve always looked away, but the flashes of your skin were seared into his brain. He nodded in response to your question, going into the bathroom with you trailing behind him. He told you to sit on the counter, pulling out the first aid kit from the cabinet next to your dangling legs. Steve wiped each wound with an antiseptic wipe, cleaning the area and sopping up the thin blood that surrounded it. His hands were gentle and soft like he was afraid to touch you, to break you.

“Hold this,” Steve placed a gauze pad on one of the wounds, his fingers guiding your hand to rest over it, holding it in place. He ignored the tingle in his fingers as his skin brushed yours, moving on to place another pad over the other blemish. Your hand came up automatically, holding it in place without Steve having to tell you again. He unraveled the rest of the gauze, slowly wrapping it around your waist, softly brushing your hands away when he no longer needed you to hold the pads in place. Steve circled it around you a few times, finally securing the gauze tightly in place with a swift knot.

“Thank you, Steve,” you whispered, his face close to yours. Steve hummed in response, letting his eyes drift to your lips for a moment too long before pulling himself away and packing up the first aid kit. He returned it to the cabinet, his shoulder brushing your leg in the process, sending chills down his spine.

Steve stood then, opening the linen closet by the door, searching for a blanket to give you in case the guest room got too cold. You were tired, to the point of exhaustion really, longing to lay your head against a soft pillow. But fear came creeping in, the demons in your closet, or the demogorgons rather, holding your mind hostage. The fears controlled you then, in combination with the exhaustion, speaking words from your lips that you otherwise wouldn’t have even considered muttering.

“Can I sleep in here? With you?” when you were first dropped off all you could think about was finally being alone, but as you sat there now, Steve's clothes covering your skin, you realized that wasn’t what you wanted at all. Steve froze, and his quest to find a blanket quickly halted. He looked up at you, taking in the heavy bags under your eyes, the weight of the past few days slumping your shoulders forward. He knew under normal circumstances that you never would have asked, and probably couldn’t have even stood being in the same room as him for more than two minutes, but these weren’t normal circumstances. And he would take what he could get.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll sleep on the floor. You can take the bed,” Steve turned to the linen closet once more, searching for a blanket for himself this time. He heard you slide off the counter, thinking you’d brush past him and get into his bed, but you didn’t. You stopped next to him, pulling Steve’s focus to you.

“You can’t sleep on the floor. What if you bleed out? I’d never know if you were down there. At least not until the morning,” Steve placed his hands on your shoulders, ceasing your seemingly endless babble. Your eyes were wide and bloodshot, staring back at Steve with a worried brow.

“Okay,” he agreed, trying to calm himself, the jitters of being so close to you creeping in. “We’ll both sleep in my bed,” his hands fell to his sides and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Steve left the bathroom, turning out the light as he did. You slid into Steve’s bed, the sheets pulled up around you as Steve switched off his lamp. The bed dipped beside you from Steve’s weight. You went to roll over, trying to face him, but you were met with pain, gasping and clutching your side with a hiss. Steve shot up, trying to help you but only injuring himself with his sharp movement in the process. You couldn’t help but laugh as you both settled down onto your backs.

“Aren’t we a pair,” you mumbled and Steve chuckled beside you. The room was dark, filled with the scent of a burned-out candle, Steve's lavender-scented shampoo, dirty laundry, and something else inherently Steve. Your eyes watched the ceiling, lying in silence next to the boy you supposedly hated. He rustled around beside you, trying to get comfortable. In a normal situation, you would’ve snapped at him for moving the bed so much, but right now you found it amusing. After another minute of restless movement, he let out a groan.

“I normally sleep on my stomach, but this shit makes it impossible,” annoyance laced his tone as he referred to the bat bites lining the front of his stomach. Your head turned in his direction, silently taking in his side profile, his sharp nose, and long eyelashes. He almost looked normal if you ignored the angry ring of red flesh lining his neck.

“I’m a side sleeper,” you spoke softly, Steve’s head turning towards your voice. For some reason, he liked hearing more about you, even if it was just something as silly as how you normally slept. “I’m in the same boat as you, Harrington,” the wounds on your sides making it impossible to lay that way. Steve could just make out the shadows of your face in the dim light. The curve of your lips, the arch of your brow, the tip of your nose. He thought you looked beautiful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop the bats from getting you,” your lip quivered then, tears welling in your eyes as you lived up to your crybaby nickname. You weren’t sure where the burst of emotion came from, chalking it up to the exhaustion that weighed heavily upon you. Steve lifted his head, his hand coming up to brush away your tears.

“Are you kidding? You jumped in right after me. If you hadn’t been there I would’ve been dead in less than a minute. You distracted some of them. I would’ve been bat food if not for you. If anyone’s sorry it should be me,” you shook your head and Steve’s hand came down to rest on your cheek, thumb rubbing circles against it gently as he spoke. Why were you letting him hold you like this? Why did it feel so comforting? You sniffled, trying to stop your tears from falling. “Baby, you saved me. I need you to know that,” you nodded at his reassurance, too choked up still to use your words. Your eyes were heavy by then, the lack of sleep weighing in on you even more.

“I'm glad I went through that gate then,” you mumbled, words barely audible through your sleep-slurred speech. With the last of your energy, you moved, rolling onto your stomach, the wounds on your sides untouched by the mattress. Steve followed your lead, moving onto his side, and facing you. His arm draped across you, careful to avoid your wounds, and a soft sigh left your lips as your eyes slowly closed. Your breath evened out soon after, slowed inhales and exhales taking over. Steve’s fingers found the bulge of the cotton pads on your side, tracing across them gently, a comforting gesture that you’d never know about. He wished he had superpowers, the ability to heal you with just a touch. But he didn’t, so he’d do this instead, easing your pain with a soft touch while you slept.

When you woke in the morning you had the overwhelming urge to pee. You slid gently from Steve’s embrace, somehow managing to get even closer to him during the night. You tiptoed to the bathroom, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy. The large mirror covering the wall taunted you when you finished, urging you to take a peek beneath the gauze. You caved, hands gently pushing the gauze to the side. The bleeding had stopped and the gashes already started looking better. It was curious how well they had cleared up overnight, but you just shrugged, used to the strangeness of the supernatural by now. You climbed back into bed with Steve after putting the bandages back into place. You wanted another minute of peace, a moment, maybe the last of its kind, when you and Steve didn’t hurt each other. When Steve Harrington was still the boy you knew, not the one you’d grown to loathe.

“Shit Steve, seriously?” You winced as the blood began to trickle down your skin. “It’s a basketball game, not tackle football,” you lost your balance for a moment, Lucas’ arms shooting up to steady you. Steve stood speechless, incapable of fathoming how his hands did so much harm to you. The skin had never quite healed right, you suppose, more fragile than most other places on your body. “Eddie, can you take me home,” you asked, trying to keep your shirt from getting wet with blood, knowing your shorts were a lost cause with scarlet droplets already pooling at the waistband. Eddie nodded quickly, rushing to your side as if he had to carry you to the van.

“I can take you. I mean, I live next door. I’ll clean you up,” Steve suddenly was able to find words, knocked out of his stupor. He moved towards you then, but you raised your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“I asked Eddie,” you spoke with a glare, already walking toward the court’s exit. Eddie shot Steve a sympathetic look before following behind you. Robin lifted her hand to comfortingly pat Steve’s back while his mouth fell slightly agape. You got into the van with a wince and Eddie closed the door for you. Robin, Steve, and Lucas were filing off the court then. Steve’s head was down while he unlocked his car. Eddie turned the keys in the ignition, started the van, and began to pull out of the lot.

It was an accident, you knew that, so why did it frustrate you so much? The same hands that once held yours as children now were the ones to lacerate your skin. Maybe it was the ache you buried deep inside, the one you’d never been able to alleviate, the pain Steve perpetuated for years. The one you hadn’t been able to forgive him for no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you wanted to. He left you, tossed you aside like you were some old sweater discarded beneath his bed, like you were nothing. It seemed never-ending like you’d never escape his harmful grasp. You wanted to be five again when the world seemed so much kinder and you loved Steve Harrington. Maybe the latter was still true, maybe that’s why he scarred you more than the others ever had.

As Eddie drove towards the exit, your gaze drifted up, landing on Steve. Robin and Lucas had already gotten into Steve’s car, but he stood outside of it, arms resting on the crook between the car’s roof and the door. His eyes followed you through the van window as Eddie sped away. A strange look overtook Steve’s face, one you couldn’t quite read. It was the look of a boy that never wanted to hurt you, but somehow constantly did.

I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

The sun hid behind the clouds, peaks of light streaming through the cracks in the sky. Tires rolled against the pavement, making their way across town. The radio was low in the car, some Fleetwood Mac song lulling softly through the air. Your car was old, covered in dents and scratches, with windows that only opened halfway and an engine that grumbled with each press to the gas pedal. Even though your parents offered to help you buy a new one, a more reliable form of transportation, you refused. This car held too many memories in its stained cloth seats. Your first kiss in the backseat, jam sessions with Eddie, driving Will, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas to the science fair where they finally got first place again. You couldn’t let it go, not yet, not while it still had some life in it. You knew how much it sucked to be abandoned.

The tires screeched and squealed as you turned into the Family Video parking lot. You pulled into a space near the front of the store, dim headlights shutting off when you pulled the keys from the ignition. Robin had told you she was working today, but as you looked around you were unable to find her bike in its normal place on the bike rack. You did however spot a maroon BMW parked near the back of the lot. That lying bitch. A sigh fell from your lips, eyes closing at the thought of seeing Steve. It had been two days since the basketball incident and you had been sure to keep your distance. Steve’s sorry eyes peeked through bedroom windows and only made you feel guilty for getting mad at him in the first place. But you couldn’t stall this any longer, the movies were due today and you’d be pissed if you got another late fee. So you grabbed the tapes from the passenger seat, holding them close to your chest as you closed your car door and walked through the entrance to Family Video.

Steve stood hunched over the counter, the same way he normally did when the store was empty like it was now. His eyes were glued to the magazine that rested on the counter before him. It was a Cosmopolitan. He was ashamed to admit that he was searching its pages for tips on how to get back in your good graces. So far he was coming up short, but he still skimmed through it anyway. The bell rang above the door, signaling to Steve that a customer had entered.

“Welcome to Family Video. My name’s Steve. Let me know if you need help with anything,” the words spilled from Steve’s lips automatically, his gaze still glued to the magazine. It took Steve a moment to register the silence he received in response, brushing it off as another inconsiderate customer. At least that’s what he thought until a stack of tapes slammed down on the counter beside him. Steve looked up then, seeing you standing across from him with raised eyebrows. Your eyes trailed down to Steve’s magazine, and his gaze followed yours. In less than a second, Steve had slid the magazine off the counter, quickly tossing behind him. You simply blinked, an amused smile blossoming on your lips as the magazine crashed to the floor.

“I want to return some tapes,” you couldn’t help the smirk that remained as you spoke, pushing the stack of video tapes in front of the boy. Steve nodded, picking up the first tape and scanning it back into the system. “What were you reading there, Harrington?” he could hear your smile through your amused tone, refusing to meet your eyes as he continued to scan your tapes.

“Sports Illustrated,” Steve lied, ignoring the way your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You couldn’t contain your laughter anymore, clutching your sides as giggles poured from your throat. Your laughter was contagious, causing a few chuckles to spring out of Steve too.

“Whatever you say, Harrington,” you composed yourself, finally ceasing your giggles, but the smile remained taut on your lips. Steve handed over your receipt for the returned tapes, expecting you to leave after clutching it in your hands, but you didn’t. Your feet drifted over to the movie-lined aisles and Steve couldn’t help but follow, tripping over his discarded magazine in the process.

Eventually, you stopped in front of a shelf, Steve watched the way you studied your options. When one finally caught your attention you leaned up, standing on your tippy toes to grab it. Your shirt rode up in the process, revealing the large bandages that covered the wounds on your sides. Steve’s heart dropped, the memories of the basketball game, the whole reason he had been reading that stupid magazine in the first place, flooded his mind. Just as your fingers brushed the front of the tape, seconds from getting ahold of it, Steve’s hand lifted it instead, offering it to you.

“Thanks,” you said sincerely, only then noticing the kicked puppy look on Steve’s face. You opened your mouth to speak again, but Steve beat you to it.

“I’m so sorry about the other day. I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got carried away,” Steve’s gaze drifted to the ground, missing the pity that swelled in your eyes. “I’m sorry this shit keeps happening. It’s just that when I’m with you I can’t seem to function like a normal person,” he lifted his head then, catching a glimpse of emotion in your expression. Regret? Or is it that underlying anger you saved just for him?

“It’s fine, Steve,” you assured him, but the boy wasn’t comforted. He opened his mouth to apologize again, but you didn’t let him. “Dude, I’m sick of hearing you apologize. It's fine. If anything I should apologize for being such a bitch about it. It was an accident, let’s move on,” Steve eyed you, unsure whether you were messing with him or not. But you were serious, hoping that the old Steve still lived within the boy in front of you, and that one day you could make amends. Maybe this was the first step, and if that meant forgiving him for something he accidentally did, then so be it. “Check me out?” you asked, holding the tape up for Steve to see. He nodded, going back behind the counter. He reached down, grabbing a copy of Casablanca from under the counter and placing it next to the movie you had just picked out, but you shook your head.

“You don’t want it?” Steve asked, suddenly wondering if you had been kidnapped and replaced by a clone. That was the only logical explanation for your behavioral change towards both him and your favorite movie.

“Kinda bored of complicated romances at the moment. Maybe another day,” Steve slid the movie back under the counter, keeping it there in case you changed your mind. “I heard this one was good though,” you gesture to the copy of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off that you had picked out.

“Yeah, Robin said that she thinks I’d like it. Haven’t had a chance to watch it yet though,” Steve scanned the tape, fixing his gaze on the computer, where he typed in the code for his employee discount. He did it every time you came in during his shift, thinking he was sly and that you’d never noticed, but you caught on a while ago. It came to light after a rousing argument with Robin about how she had been overcharging you.

You pulled a few crumpled bills from your purse, handing them over to Steve. He waited, knowing you were now going to dig around your purse until you found some coins, never willing to pay with anything other than exact change. After a few seconds, you pulled the coins out, two quarters, a dime, and three pennies. You placed them gently in Steve’s extended hand. His palm tingled with the brush of your fingers, quickly sorting the coins to alleviate the sensation. He handed you the bag with your tape when he finished putting your change away. With a small smile, you turned, heading back towards the door you entered through. Just as you were about to place your hand on the large handle and push it open, you stopped. Steve, who had been watching as you walked away, felt that dreaded sense of hope again, the one he felt so often when you were near.

“What time do you get done here?” Steve’s eyebrows raised, taken aback by your question. His mouth opened, fumbling for words as he checked his watch.

“Thirty-two minutes. Why?” you chuckled at his sudden nervousness. Maybe he really had come a long way from his days as King Steve. King Steve never would’ve struggled like this when talking to a girl.

“Do you want to watch this with me?” you held up the bag that housed the Ferris Bueller VHS, extending an olive branch. Steve’s response was immediate like he didn’t even need to think about it.

“Yes,” it was a simple answer, but you just nodded in return, a shy smile creasing the corners of your mouth. “We can watch it at my place. My TV is bigger,” Steve smirked, regaining his charming and flirty tone, the one you’d gotten so familiar with as a result of all the teasing. You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, smile still cresting your lips, and pushed your way through the exit.

“Whatever you say, Harrington,” you called out behind you, repeating the same words from earlier. Steve laughed, watching your retreating figure, the sway of your hips, and the swell of your ass. He looked at his watch again, still displaying the same time as when he had checked just moments before. Steve groaned into his hands. This was going to be the longest thirty-two minutes of his life.

You were enveloped in a book, sitting on your window bench when a light tap sounded off next to you. Thinking it was just the old house creaking or something, you ignored it, eyes scanning the next page. That’s when it happened again, and again, and again. You pulled back your curtains and flung open the window only to narrowly avoid getting smacked in the face by a pebble.

“Shit, sorry,” Steve swore, his cheeks turning red with guilt and embarrassment. He was standing below your window, pebbles spilling out of his hand. A week or two ago, hell maybe even a few days ago, you would’ve gone off on him, screaming about nearly hurting you and potentially damaging your window. But now, you just smiled, taking in the sight of the boy next door. Only Steve Harrington could make a romantic gesture nearly turn into a trip to the hospital. “I tried to leave you a message, but your curtains were closed,” you glanced over to his window, spotting the piece of loose leaf taped to it with the words ‘come over?’ scrawled in black ink.

“Give me two seconds,” you pulled your head back inside, closing the window behind you. As you did, a few of the army men on your window sill fell on their sides, no longer facing the window across the gap between two houses. Snagging the video tape from your desk, you ran down the steps, stopping in front of the mirror hung up in the hallway. Why did you suddenly care how your hair looked around Steve? Brushing off the thought, you continued, opening the front door to be met by the boy next door.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded, following as he turned towards his house. You walked closely behind him, catching a whiff of hairspray, lavender, and cologne. Steve led you to the rec room in the basement, which housed the largest television in the Harrington residence. You handed him the tape and he slid it into the VCR before settling on the couch, a good two feet from where you sat. Neither of you mentioned the distance, just watching the movie and laughing at Ferris’ goofy antics.

As the movie progressed a chill ran through you, goosebumps prickling your skin. The Harrington’s seemingly liked to keep their basement ice cold. Steve noticed and pulled down the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. He laid it on his lap, extending the end of it towards you. You accepted his silent invitation, closing the gap and sitting close with the blanket wrapped around the two of you. The rest of the movie was spent that way, thighs brushing against one another when either of you moved.

When the credits finally ended, with Ferris Bueller in his bathrobe disappearing from the screen one last time, you felt at ease. You hadn’t expected to feel so comfortable with Steve, but it was almost a relief that you managed to get through a whole movie without wanting to kill him.

“That was so good. Robin was totally right, I loved it. I'm basically Ferris Bueller so it makes sense I guess,” Steve shrugged and you couldn’t hold back the laugh that bloomed from your lips at his comment. Steve turned to look at you, a brow arched in confusion at your humor. “What?” he asked bluntly, a hint of amusement on his face.

“You would think that you’re Ferris,” you spoke, looking smug. Steve's lips stretched into a daring grin, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Okay, if I’m not Ferris then who am I?” Steve leaned in close and you rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder.

“It’s so obvious that you’re Cameron. Sure, the people that don’t know you that well might think you’re Ferris, but I know you Steve Harrington, and you’re Cameron fully and completely,” your grin widened with Steve’s look of exasperation. His hand flew to his chest in mock offense.

“What the hell makes me Cameron?” his words still had the air of joviality behind them despite his faux wounded front. The corner of your lips faltered then, suddenly reluctant to divulge more about your characterization of the boy before you. You didn’t want to tell him what he already knew, that he and Cameron shared a strained relationship with their fathers, both all too afraid of disappointing the men who raised them. That up until recently both boys took all the shit that their fathers gave them, too freighted to stand up to them. You didn’t want to say any of it, which was fine because Steve already knew. From the second Cameron appeared on the screen, the voice in the back of Steve’s head pointed out each similarity that they shared. Silence settled over the two of you, smiles fading in the quiet room.

“If it makes you feel better,” you began, voice small and fingers fidgeting on your lap. Steve wanted to reach over and grab them, encase your fingers with his, but he restrained himself. “Cameron was my favorite character in the movie,” you nodded towards the TV screen that now reflected a blank blue shadow over the pair of you. Steve observed your bashful demeanor, thinking about how cute you looked when you got all shy.

“You would definitely be Jeanie,” Steve asserted, breaking through the uncomfortable quiet. Your jaw dropped at the comparison and the smile returned to Steve’s lips at your reaction.

“Ferris’s bitchy sister?” Steve nodded and you shoved him again. He righted himself, continuing to make his point.

“I mean, come on, it’s so obvious,” Steve repeated your words from earlier and you shook your head. “You’re both a little crazy in a hot way. Not to mention you both go for bad boys,” you glared at Steve, but he could tell you weren’t actually mad.

“I’m not into bad boys, asshole,” you defended and Steve’s smirk grew, his rebuttal already concocted in his head.

“Oh really? So it wasn’t you that hooked up with Billy Hargrove at Tina’s Halloween party two years ago?” your jaw dropped again, and Steve’s snickering filled the air. He reached over, pressing your chin up to close your mouth. You brushed his hand off of you in confusion.

“How the hell do you know about that?” you asked, confusion and curiosity coursing through your thoughts. “Did Eddie tell you? I swear to god I’m never telling him anything ever again,” you crossed your arms, waiting for Steve to talk.

“Hargrove used to brag about it to me and try to rub it in my face,” Steve informed you and your face wrinkled, filled with questions. “I guess he thought that it would make me mad since you and I used to be friends or whatever,” Steve shrugged, no longer smiling. He watched you, unsure how you would react to his explanation.

“Did it?” you questioned, and Steve shrugged again. He didn’t want to tell you that it did, that it took every fiber of his being to restrain himself from punching the blond boy’s stupid face.

“A little,” Steve lied and another silence fell over the room, but it wasn’t as tense this time. Steve waited a moment before speaking again, watching the way you avoided his gaze. “Why’d you even hook up with him? I thought you hated him,” Steve’s voice was quiet, unwilling to break through the low noise barrier that settled between you.

“You stole my copy of Pride and Prejudice,” you let out a sigh, gaze shifting to your hands that rested in your lap again. Steve’s brow furrowed, confused about the correlation between his question and your response. “It was the copy my grandma gave me when I was 11. I had notes in the margins on just about every page. You took it from my bag in homeroom the day before the party and refused to give it back,” Steve knew what you were talking about. He couldn’t remember why he took it, but he knew that he still had it, tucked away in his closet, in a spot that only he could find.

“But what does that have to do with Billy?” Steve still didn’t understand. Your hands ran over your face as you let out a sigh.

“You hated him and he hated you. I figured the enemy of my enemy was my friend, which wasn’t true by the way. I was super pissed about the book and a little tipsy. I needed to blow off some steam, so one thing led to another and we hooked up in his car after the party,” you were ashamed of it, regret filling you the second it was over. “I didn’t know that he was such a douchebag when it happened. If I had known how badly he treated Max and Lucas then I never would’ve done it,” you explained, still unable to meet Steve’s gaze, embarrassed by your past. Steve’s hand extended, tilting your chin with his finger, allowing your eyes to finally meet his.

“I shouldn't have taken your book, Baby,” Steve whispered and you gave him a soft smile in return. The nickname rang through the air and reverberated off the walls. Hearing it didn’t bother you for some reason. For the first time in years, the word didn’t sting as it fell from Steve’s lips. Maybe the tide finally turned, the war nearly over. It gave you a sense of courage, making you brave enough to let your next question out in the open.

“When Billy bragged about it, what did he say?” Steve was taken aback, wondering why you would want to know. Billy’s words were far from nice, if anything they were disrespectful and an invasion of privacy. But the way you looked at Steve now told him that you genuinely wanted to know, needed to know.

“It was really depraved stuff, like how your body felt against him,” Steve started and you nodded, motioning with your hands for him to continue. “He said you would start to breathe heavily when he kissed your neck. That you did this thing with your tongue when you kissed that felt insanely good. He said you moaned his name like it was made just for you to say it. That your thighs shook when you…” Steve trailed off, face flushed and unwilling to finish his sentence. He had started speaking slower with each sentence, despite the racing of his heart. The tension floated thick in the air, crowding the room and making it way too hot for the blanket draped over your lap. Steve wasn’t sure when his hand had dropped to your lap, brushing between your legs from over the blanket.

Your eyes were glued to Steve’s, unaware of the distance that disappeared between you with each passing second. His breath mingled with yours, tingling against your skin. Your tongue darted out, bringing moisture to your dry lips. The heat between your thighs ached to be relieved, wishing Steve’s hand would travel higher up your thigh as his jeans tightened at the sight of your gaze alone. The blue from the TV screen that coated the room disappeared as your eyes fluttered shut. Both sets of lips were centimeters from meeting in the middle when the VCR popped out the tape, landing with a loud smack on the ground. Steve had leaned on the remote while moving closer toward you, accidentally pressing the eject button. He knew he needed to fix the VCR, worried about its tendency to spit out tapes rather than the slow half push it was supposed to do, but he’d put it off, too tired after a long day of work. You broke apart at the sound, creating more distance as you moved the blanket from your legs and scrambled back, Steve’s hand falling into the now empty space. Neither of you could look up at the other.

“I wish we stayed friends when we were in middle school,” Steve said after a long span of silence. He never wanted to be your enemy, never wanted to drive you into the arms of an undeserving man. Your eyes met then, his were glassy, which was something you hadn’t expected.

“Yeah, me too,” your voice was small but sure, words speaking nothing but the truth. You didn’t remind him why you weren’t, something you would’ve done a week ago. Instead, you sat in agreement, pondering how different your life would be.

“I wonder what would've changed,” he spoke. It was soft, almost a whisper, and you longed to be close to him again. To feel his words fan across your lips instead of the empty space beside you. “If I would’ve been friends with Tommy, if I would’ve dated Nancy, if we’d be off at a college somewhere instead of this shithole town,” Steve was louder now, melancholy mixed with underlying anger. Even if you were finally able to be friends now, Steve couldn’t help but think about the time he missed out on with you and all the other lingering what-ifs.

“We could still get out one day. Leave the teen angst and trauma behind,” you sounded normal again, reassuring to Steve’s overactive thoughts. “Maybe we could go together,” Steve’s heart leaped out of his chest at your words, but he reeled it back in. It was still new, being able to talk without words slicing into the other’s skin. You looked at him with anticipatory eyes, awaiting his response.

“Just give me the signal Baby and we can be out of here before sunrise,” Steve extended his hand, this was a deal to shake on, a long-term agreement that one day you’d run away together. You grinned, accepting his outstretched hand, wondering about where you’d go. Considering if you were in love with Steve Harrington, if you always had been. Dying to know if he was in love with you too.

A friend to all is a friend to none

Autumn had officially begun, a chill in the air that persuaded the orange leaves to tumble from the trees. It was your favorite time of year, though you couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that swelled in your heart at the thought of leaving the warm summer sun behind. Eddie insisted that you come to visit him at work, his desperation ringing out through the static of the phone. After a few minutes of groveling, you caved and agreed to go, which is how you ended up banished to the backseat of Steve’s car on the way to the record store on main street. Robin had called shotgun, but you didn’t mind, having the entire backseat to yourself and stretching out your legs. Steve’s car smelled like pine trees and leather, hairspray and cologne, as it rolled along the pavement.

Steve pulled up to a parking spot in front of the record store, placing his hand on the passenger seat headrest as he threw the car in reverse. He turned his head towards the car’s rear, watching carefully as he backed into a spot, shooting you a wink before he faced the front again. You couldn’t help the warmth that spread over your cheeks, feeling like a bumbling schoolgirl with a crush. Ever since your movie night, your almost kiss, things had been different with Steve. Sure, there was still some teasing and the typical dirty innuendos, but it didn’t sting the way it used to. It didn’t evolve into slammed windows and drawn curtains, loud arguments and bruised egos. Something new coursed through your veins, your heart beating just to hear the sound of his voice. It was scary, the rush of feelings that you’d seemingly repressed for years, hidden under what you thought was hate.

“You coming or what?” Robin leaned back into Steve’s car to face you. The thoughts of Steve had distracted you and you only now noticed that they had already exited the car. You followed suit, unbuckling and sliding across the seat to get out on Steve’s side. He greeted you with an arm slung around your shoulder, purposely messing up your hair in the process. You swatted at him, smoothing your hair back down as you walked through the store’s entrance together. Music wafted down from the speakers that littered the ceiling and you instantly knew that Eddie had picked out whatever metal song was playing. As if he could hear the mention of his name in your thoughts, Eddie appeared in front of you, grabbing ahold of your wrist and dragging you towards the front counter. Meanwhile, Robin and Steve headed towards the back, searching for some Abba vinyl that Steve had been wanting for ages. The absence of Steve’s arm around your shoulder left you with a chill, the tingle brought on by his touch subsiding, but you brushed it aside following the long-haired boy.

You went behind the counter with Eddie, hopping up to sit in the space between the cash register and the pile of records stacked to the left. It was a familiar spot for you, somewhere you’d sat a million times, much to Eddie’s manager’s dismay. In this spot, you’d talk about dates that you went on, someone from high school who got knocked up or married, a new song Eddie was working on, and your hatred for Steve Harrington. But this time was different. Eddie remained silent as you perched before him, crossing his arms over his chest and peering at you with knowing eyes. He came to stand in front of you, his stomach brushing against your knees. You glared at him in response, already knowing the words that were about to crest his lips.

“You and Harrington have been awfully close lately,” a smirk danced across his face, arms uncrossing, hands landing to rest on your knees. You narrowed your eyes, placing your hands behind you, and leaning back on them.

“We’re sort of friends now, I guess,” you shrugged and Eddie leaned in even closer, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead as if he was testing your temperature. You smacked his hand away, earning a yelp in response. The grin reappeared on Eddie’s lips as he shook his hand to alleviate the pain caused by your slap.

“Friends, huh?” you nodded as his question, eyeing Eddie for his next move. Someone entered the store, the chime of the bell over the door alerting the both of you. But the two of you didn’t flinch, didn’t even spare the new customer a glance, too enveloped in your weird standoff staring contest. Instead, Eddie called out his standard greeting, welcoming the person to Rad Records, as his eyes roamed over you, searching for an unspecified answer. “Just friends, nothing more?” Eddie finally continued, needing more evidence to make his case, to find the answer to his unasked question. And you gave it to him, eyes darting away from his and legs beginning to bounce. Eddie’s jaw dropped, a gasp seeping from the open space between his lips.

“Shut the fuck up, Edward,” you rushed out, clamping your hand over his slack jaw. Eddie’s wide eyes trailed from you to Steve and back. His lips moved behind your hand, trying to speak, but you shushed him, refusing to let go until he calmed down. You cringed at the swipe of his tongue against your palm, but still held on tight. After a few seconds, Eddie stopped and you took it as a sign to set him free. Your hand retracted, falling limply onto your lap, where you wiped his saliva onto your jeans.

“Holy shit. You like him. You actually, consciously, like him,” Eddie whisper-yelled at you and it took a considerable amount of effort to not spontaneously combust at his words. It’s one thing to finally admit it to yourself, it’s another to hear it spoken out loud. Still, you felt like there was a ritual you had to play along with, like you had to deny the accusation.

“I so do not,” you spoke stubbornly, but Eddie could hear the give in your voice, knowing the truth.

“You totally do. The fact that it’s taken you this long to realize is insane,” Robin spoke up from behind you, startling you with her sudden appearance. You looked beside her, expecting to see Steve, but he wasn’t there. You didn’t know whether to be sad or relieved by his absence from the conversation.

“Where is Steve anyway?” you shifted on the counter, making space for Robin to rest her elbows next to you. Robin nodded towards the back of the store. Steve’s figure was obscured by the towering displays that littered the room.

“Some guy that he knew from the basketball team came in and started talking to him. Steve called him Jumpy or something. I dipped out as soon as I could, so Steve’s stuck back there now,” you cringed at the name that fell from Robin’s lips. Jumpy was the dumbass nickname of Allen Peterson, some douchebag that was friends with Tommy.

“Ugh, he and Tommy once broke into the girl’s locker room during gym and stole my clothes. I had to walk around in my gym uniform for the rest of the day. It was humiliating,” a frown bloomed on your lips, one that was echoed by Eddie and Robin.

“I remember that. They somehow never got caught,” Eddie’s eyes trailed to the back of the store, still unable to spot Steve. “You want me to kick him out?” Eddie’s eyebrows raised in question, almost begging for the chance to kick someone out of the store. But you shook your head, tapping his shoulder so he’d move out of the way. He did, stepping to the side, allowing you to slide down from the glass counter.

“I want to see if he remembers me. Maybe mess with him a bit,” Eddie and Robin waved you off as you walked towards the back, the top of Steve’s perfectly styled hair coming into view as you got closer. You approached from behind Steve, not able to get a good view of his face. You were still hidden, questioning whether you should continue with your plan or not. Wondering if Allen would do something to upset you, tease you, and make you feel small. But Steve was there, and how could he hurt you when the boy you loved was standing by your side? Just as you were about to take a step out, you heard something, Allen’s voice.

“Dude, I can’t believe you’ve been hanging out with such losers,” Allen’s words elicited a soft scoff from your lips. He peaked in high school but here he was calling you a loser? You wished you could see Steve’s face, to know what was running through his mind, the witty comeback that was sure to leave his lips any second now. But it didn’t. All you heard was the smooth sound of his laugh dancing through the store.

“Come on, man. They’re not that bad,” you brushed off Steve’s weak, delayed defense. At least he stood up for you in some regard, that’s what matters.

“Nah man, that Baby chick is nuts. I remember how weird she was in high school, always crying over something. Sometimes I just wanted to bend her over and give her something to cry about, you know?” Allen mimed thrusting his hips as his words hung in the air. It made you feel dirty and violated, like he had already touched you in the way he said that he wanted to. The boy viewed you as an object, nothing more than something to be used to satisfy his needs. Your eyes bore into the back of Steve’s head, willing him to speak up on your behalf. To defend you, to protect you, to punch this asshole in the face. But Steve was never good at defending you and all he did was laugh again. That irritatingly coy laugh, the one that set off alarm bells whenever you heard it. The laugh that belonged to the reigning king, not the boy you loved.

“Oh yeah, totally. One good screw would straighten her right out,” at that moment you could’ve sworn that the entire town could hear your heart as it shattered. You weren’t really sure when you revealed yourself from your hiding spot behind the bookshelf, but your eyes locked with Allen’s, and his stupid smirk dropped. Steve tracked his gaze, spinning on his heels to see you, tears welling in the corners of your eyes, forehead creased, and red-hot anger coursing through you. You turned, moving as fast as you could towards the exit at the front of the store. Steve chased behind you, his hand catching your arm right after you passed through the door. Eddie and Robin looked alarmed at the sight of you both stopped before the store’s glass front.

“Let go of me,” you spoke hotly, cursing the strength of Steve’s grip. Steve’s eyes roamed over you, catching the flicker of hurt that flashed across your face before you restored it to its angry glare.

“I didn’t mean it. It’s just-” Steve began, but you quickly cut him off, still trying to wrangle your arm from his grasp.

“I don’t give a shit what you meant, Harrington. I thought you changed. I forgave you for all the shit you put me through. Guess I wrong to think you were capable of being a decent person,” Steve’s eyes watered at your words, hating himself for making you doubt him and how he feels for you.

“I have changed. I don’t know why I said that shit,” Steve pleaded, he wanted you to understand, to give him five minutes to explain himself. But Steve knew this was it, you’d already made your decision, it wouldn’t matter even if he got down on his knees and begged. He’d broken your trust, said shit he didn’t mean, and now he’d lost you again, the same way he did years before, the way he never wanted to again. Steve let go of your arm, giving you the freedom you asked for when you first left the record store with him in tow. Your arm felt numb, empty, without Steve’s hand there, and you cursed your stupid heart for not wanting him to let go.

“I guess old habits die hard, Harrington. Stay the fuck out of my life,” your words spat from deep within you, fire coating each syllable. Steve watched as you turned, making your way down the sidewalk and turning into an alleyway between two stores. Eddie and Robin burst through the record store’s entrance, ignoring the autumn chill that they were greeted with as they did. Steve wiped his eyes, glad to have tears clouding his vision because he was not sure he could stand to see his best friend's face as he recounted the past few minutes to her. Eddie looked to Steve, silently asking where you went, and Steve lifted his hand pointing in your direction. Eddie took off, turning the corner to the alley to find you slumped on the ground, knees to your chest and head in your hands. He approached you slowly, pulling you into him when he finally got close enough. Sobs racked your body, chest heaving against Eddie’s as he held you in a tight hug, knees resting on the cement below.

“I hate him, Eds. I fucking hate him,” Eddie nodded in understanding, stroking your hair and pulling it from where it stuck to your tear-stained cheeks. “I should’ve known he’d break my heart again. I should’ve known not to let myself fall in love with him,” your tears soaked Eddie’s shirt and he froze, stuck on the words that fell from your lips. Love. Sure, he’d known you liked Steve, but love was different. Love meant more hurt. It held more weight. It meant that you set aside the past and moved on. It meant you finally gave in to the feelings that gnawed at your heart and your brain each night. It meant that Steve really fucked up.

Chasing shadows in the grocery line

Steve’s car finally peeled away and flew down main street, signaling to Eddie that the coast was clear. He walked you back to the now barren record store, save for his co-worker Terry, who was in the back unpacking a new shipment. Eddie asked Terry to cover for him and when Terry saw your tear-stained cheeks and red puffy eyes, he agreed, no questions asked. So Eddie put you in the passenger seat of his van and sped off down the road. You didn’t ask where he was going when he passed the street that led to your house, already knowing where he was taking you.

Eddie’s van stopped abruptly in front of his trailer. Wayne’s car was gone, signaling that he’d already left for work, leaving the trailer empty. It was getting dark, gloomy clouds blocking the sun as the moon rose in the sky opposite it. The porch lights flickered on, illuminating the shadows of your face through the cracked windshield. You caught sight of Lucas’ bike through the back window. It was lying on its side outside of Max’s trailer, thrown in haste. Normally it would’ve made you laugh, elicit a joke about young lovebirds to fall from your lips, but right now you couldn’t even will the corners of your lips to curl into a faint smile.

Eddie opened your car door, gently lifting you by your waist and placing you on the ground. You followed him inside, trailing behind him like a lost, heartbroken puppy with nowhere else to go. He led you to his room, indicating for you to sit on his bed, so you did. Eddie placed a soft kiss on your forehead, the kind a mother gives her child, and lifted your arms. He disrobed you of your heavy knit sweater, your way of protecting yourself from the autumn winds that pierced the air, and replaced it with one of his Black Sabbath shirts. You unclipped your bra through the shirt, pulling it out of your sleeve before tossing it to the floor. The action always amazed Eddie, drawing a laugh from his lips, but this time he remained quiet, too concerned over you to pay attention to much else. Next, Eddie unlaced your shoes, pulling them from your feet. You shimmied from your pants after, throwing them across the room, uncaring where they landed.

With a shaky breath, you laid down, facing the wall, your back turned to Eddie. Eddie pulled off his leather jacket, shucked off his jeans, and moved towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you, Eddie’s body now close to yours. He pulled the bed sheets up to cover you both before draping his arm across your torso. You relaxed into him a bit, fingers and legs intertwining with one another. It was a familiar position, one you and Eddie had shared a million times, but his comforting touch wasn’t working quite the same as it normally did. Not when your heart hurt this much.

Eddie wanted to ask what happened, pester you with questions, and uncover the truth, but he refrained, knowing you’d speak up when the time was right. His heart ached at the feel of your body shaking against his, small sobs springing from deep within your chest no matter how much you wanted them to stop. Eddie only held you tighter, his arms practically crushing your ribs as his own tears began to well in his eyes. You stayed like that for a while, long after the sun fully sank beneath the horizon, leaving the room in complete consuming darkness. The wind caused sapling branches to scrape against the window, becoming the only sound to fill the lingering silence. You stopped crying after a while, wishing you could sleep the pain away, but remaining unsuccessful in your attempts.

Finally, you gave up, shifting to face Eddie, your forehead pressed to his. Breath intermingling, comforting you, letting you know that, yes, your heart may be broken, but you were still alive. Eddie studied you, unsure whether he should be the first to speak or not, but you quickly quelled that thought when you opened your mouth.

“Do you think you’ll ever leave Hawkins?” your question threw Eddie off, his brows scrunching in confusion. It’s not what he expected you to say.

“Not unless the band takes off, and certainly not without Wayne,” Eddie had thought about it before, considered moving to a big city where the lights never dimmed and the gigs would never end. But as much as Hawkins may have hated him, he could never hate it in return. He’d get sick of the city noise and never be able to sleep, craving to hear the chirp of crickets and cicadas instead. So when you asked, he was sure of his answer. But he didn’t echo your question back to you, already knowing that your answer would be a resounding yes. It would be tough for you to leave everyone behind, but you longed for something different, somewhere new to help escape the past and finally look forward to the future. Eddie was lost in thought, still wondering why you asked that when you spoke again.

“He’s exactly who I thought he was,” it was a whisper, one that could easily be lost, left hanging in the air with no one around to hear it echo off the peeling walls. But Eddie heard it, he absorbed your words from the silent room, wanting to know more, so you continued. “I thought he was different now, but it turns out he’s still the same, too wrapped up in caring about what others think,” fresh tears sprang in your eyes, a sob tightening your throat as you spoke. “I’m tired of fighting against his undying need to be liked. I’m tired of losing against it every goddamn time. I’m done,” there was a finality to your tone, one that caused Eddie to lift his head from his pillow, a questioning look on his face.

“Sweetheart, do you want me to talk to him? Figure out what’s running through his head?” Eddie offered, but he knew the gesture would be wasted on you. Once you set your mind to it, it was done. But he wanted you to hear Steve out. He wanted you to find a way to reconcile your differences. For all the pain and confusion that Steve Harrington brought, he also filled you with joy and light. You’d been happier throughout the past few weeks than Eddie had ever seen you, illuminating rooms simply by entering them. Eddie didn’t want that to disappear, to be forever obscured by a compilation of closed curtains and avoidant gazes. But he was met with a furious shake of your head.

“No, Eds. I mean it. No more Steve,” Eddie nodded despite the voice in his head yelling at him to speak up and try to change your mind. It was no use. He rolled onto his back, one arm resting under his head, the other still laid across you. You shifted too, laying with your chest pressed to Eddie’s stomach, head resting just below his. “I wish it was you that I loved. It’d be much simpler that way,” you’re not sure why you said it, maybe the cloud that formed in your head from the day’s events expanded, spilling all of your hazy thoughts through your lips. It was a sad wish, an empty hurt with truth behind it. But Eddie understood, his own thoughts reflecting yours, the telepathy finally working in a way. He wanted to take away your pain in any way he could, but not like this. Not when your heart was beaten black and blue, longing for a simple ceasefire to mend your open wounds. Not when that same heart belonged to another, an echoed call through the woods waiting for the birds in the treetops to sing back with an affirmative answer. Eddie loved you, but not in the way the both of you currently wished for. An irrefutable loyalty that would consciously be limited to platonic fellowship, no romance lingering from either party in the way you held each other close.

“I’m sorry, Baby,” Eddie’s whisper slid through the strands of your hair, a soft kiss placed overtop of it. You’d grown quiet by then, breath evening out as you were finally granted your wish for sleep. Falling deep into a slumber where you were still five and Steve Harrington tucked flowers behind your ears as he whispered to you about love.

Days had passed, an endless stream of the same heartache and emptiness that blended each rise and fall of the sun together, making it difficult to distinguish one from the next. Robin called you probably a million times, but you refused to come to the phone. Your parents opted to unplug the phone from the wall for a few days, growing tired of the incessant ringing. You knew she just wanted to talk about Steve, but that was something you couldn’t quite handle yet. You’d only plugged the phone back in to call out of work, letting them know you had a nasty stomach bug, not caring if they believed you or not. The curtains in your room remained closed with the little army men on the window sill replaced in their defensive stance. To you, this was war.

On the fifth day of refusing to depart from beneath your bed sheets, your mom entered your room, messing with the knick-knacks that covered your dresser as she did. A custom D20 from Dustin, a kazoo Eddie gave you for your birthday one year joking about how you could be Corroded Coffin’s lead kazoo player, a mixtape Robin lent you ages ago, a new pack of colored pencils you’d been meaning to give to Will, and a flower that had been dried and pressed into a glittery bookmark, all littered your dresser’s surface. Your mom grabbed the bookmark, admiring the way the lavender flower retained its shape despite being flattened so many years ago. It was the same lavender that grew from the ground beneath your bedroom window, decorating the grass between the Harrington’s house and your own. You watched closely as she eyed the bookmark, curiosity flooding your thoughts.

“I remember making this with you,” she spoke softly, a gentle cadence meant to comfort you, and it sort of did. “You came running inside with the flower and insisted that we save it. You said it was too important to let die,” she sat on the edge of your bed, bookmark still glinting in the soft glow of the lamplight. You propped yourself up on your elbows, wondering where she was going with all of this. She handed you the bookmark then, and you took it, confused, examining it as if you’d never seen it before.

“I don’t remember that,” your voice was hoarse from crying. It didn’t help that you hadn’t properly spoken out loud in days, too congested with the bustling thoughts running laps around your mind.

“You were five. And if I remember correctly a certain boy had been the one to pick the flower for you,” you understood then, she was talking about Steve. Part of you felt betrayed, like your mother was providing aid for the enemy, but the other part of you wanted to know more, why she wanted to talk about this, especially now. “We always assumed the two of you would be friends, lovers even,” she wagged her eyebrows at you and the corners of your lips ticked up at the gesture. “So it was strange to see the distance that grew between you, the pain you caused each other. I’d always hoped you’d resolve your differences, and fall back into the same ease you had as kids, but I know it’s more complicated than that,” her hand reached up, brushing softly against your cheek. You hadn’t realized that you were crying until her fingers swiped over the fallen tears. “I love you, my Baby,” her words were a whisper, gentle lips pressed to your forehead. She patted your leg through your comforter, standing up as she did. On her way to the door, she stopped, turning back to look at you. “Maybe some fresh air might help. A trip to the store?” she suggested and for some reason you nodded, actually thinking that it would be nice to leave your bed for a bit. She smiled, making her way out of your room to grab the grocery list for you. As she rounded the corner, one foot out the door, she couldn’t help but notice the tight grip you kept on the bookmark in your hand. The flower within it that was always in bloom. Something that could never die.

You opted to go to the store alone, wanting to drive with the windows down and the music up, drowning out the overcrowded space in your head. It was nice to leave the house, to be in an open space with autumn in the air. The crisp leaves crunched under your tires as you pulled into the grocery parking lot. You were so concerned about making sure that you had the list your mom gave you that you completely missed the maroon BMW parked on the opposite end of the lot. Once you had the list, you grabbed a cart, its wheels squeaking loudly as you made your way down aisles, grabbing item after item off the shelves.

There was only one thing left on your list, a bag of tortilla chips, which was your dad’s favorite snack food for some odd reason. You almost chuckled to yourself seeing how his scratchy handwriting interrupted your mom’s pristine list. With a squeal of protest from the shopping cart’s wheels, you turned the corner, eyes roaming over the chip options in front of you. You finally found what you were looking for and stood up on your tiptoes, the top shelf being just a bit too high for you to reach. A warmth washed over you as someone leaned into your space, large hands retrieving the bag and offering it to you. Your breath stopped for a moment and you found yourself unable to move.

“I’m just gonna put these in here then,” Steve spoke softly, placing the chip bag into your cart when you froze. He looked tired, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His hair was flat, almost greasy looking, lacking his usual abundance of hairspray and product. Steve watched you, the way you shrunk at the sight of him and he felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest. He never wanted to hurt you, to make you feel less than what you were. And to Steve, you were everything. Steve opened his mouth to speak, an apology sputtering from his lips, but the sight snapped you out of your stupor, suddenly springing to action.

“I told you to stop apologizing to me,” your voice was firm and cold, nothing like the ease it held back at Family Video the last time he tried to right his wrongs.

“Just let me explain, please,” he pleaded, eyes soft, a glimmer of familiarity in them. For a moment you almost let him, finding yourself more than willing to listen to the boy speak. You were reminded of the comfort you found in the sound of his voice recently, the swell it brought to your chest. But that vanished when you remembered the way he laughed when talking to Allen, his vile words leaving your glass heart shattered across the record store’s stained carpet. It felt like a slap to the face, a cut on your cheek, a crack in your rib. You meant what you said, you were done with him. The boy before you showed no growth. He was still the same boy who called you names, taunted you in the halls, stole your favorite book, and scared off the boys you liked.

“No,” it was stony and resolute, an end to the conversation. You pushed your cart away, leaving Steve behind, your shadow cascading over him as you did. You made your way to the register and Steve followed close behind. He got in line behind you, but he stayed quiet, unsure what to say. He only had two things in his basket, which made his checkout go by quickly. By the time he got out to the parking lot, you were still there, placing the hefty grocery bags into your trunk.

“Let me make it up to you,” Steve startled you, appearing at your side out of nowhere. “I swear I've changed, I promise. I care about you, so much,” you slammed your trunk closed, wheeling your cart back to where it belonged. Steve followed you, but you stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge his pleas. He stood in front of your car door then, blocking it so you couldn’t get in. “I don’t want to lose you again. Let me show you I care. Let me prove it,” he looked like he was on the verge of tears. Part of you wanted to reach out and hold his face in your hands. The other part wanted to hurt him more, make him feel what you felt. The latter won.

“You can’t prove shit to me, Harrington. I don’t believe it, any of it. You’re still the same stupid boy you were when we were 11, and I fucking hate you for it,” you spat and Steve’s face hardened. You wanted him to yell back at you, to prove that he felt something for you, something worth fighting for. But he didn’t. He simply stepped aside, a new slump in his posture as he let you go. His gaze followed the battered silhouette of your car as it drove off, a wisp of fallen leaves and Steve’s shredded heart trailing behind it.

When you got home you stormed inside, leaving the groceries in the car for your parents to unload. You fell back into your bed, resuming the same position you held before you went to the grocery store. It took some time, anger encapsulating your every fiber, but eventually, you fell asleep, putting the situation with Steve aside as you escaped to the peace of your dreams.

You awoke the next morning, groggy and sore. Rolling onto your back, you caught a glimpse of something from the corner of your eye, something that was out of place. Your body groaned as you arose, hesitant steps towards your desk, hands slowly lifting the object. It was a book, but not just any book. It was Pride and Prejudice, the copy that your grandmother gave you years ago, the one that was taken from you. You flipped through the pages, fingers tracing the words you’d penciled in on the margins. Stuck between its pages was a bookmark, your bookmark, with lavender and specks of glitter decorating it.

You sat back on your bed, wondering why the book was returned so suddenly and out of the blue. Your mom was the one to put it in your room, marking its pages with the bookmark, but Steve had been the one to take it years ago. Why did he keep it? Why give it back now? Was this the end? A bookend in your tumultuous relationship with the boy next door? A post-it note fell from between the book’s pages and you leaned down to grab it. Written in Steve’s messy scrawl was one word.

“Please.”

And you’d come back to me

The note was metaphorically stuck in your head, lingering like a bad dream that you couldn’t wake from. It didn’t help that it was physically stuck to your nightstand, its fluorescent green shade haunting you with each passing glance. But you just couldn’t will yourself to throw it away. It was a life preserver tossed to you after falling overboard, a worm on a hook meant to reel you in, a last attempt to fix what had been broken, to reconcile with Steve. You meant it when you said you were done, but the ache inside you longed to be quelled. And there was only one person that could do that. The least you could do was hear him out. Find closure, nothing more, or so you told yourself.

A few days had passed since your encounter at the grocery store and you finally felt brave enough to face Steve again. You knew he was home given that his car had scarcely left the driveway in the past few days. Your legs felt wobbly, knees knocking as you marched in the dark through your lawn, crossing over onto the Harrington’s property. It was late, but you knew he’d still be awake, just as plagued with his thoughts as you were. You jabbed the doorbell with your finger, waiting nervously for the door to open, to see the boy that plagued your thoughts. But it didn’t. So you rang it again, and again, and again. Repeatedly pressing the button until the door finally cracked open.

“I don’t want whatever you’re selling, man,” Steve began but stopped when he saw you, straightening his slumped shoulders. He looked worse than he had at the grocery store like he hadn’t slept in days. He let the door hang open as he gaped at you, unable to form words. You took advantage of the open space, slipping inside his house before he could stop you. Steve shut the door, turning to see what you were doing, but you’d already made your way upstairs to his room.

His room was pretty much the same as it had been the last time you were there, back when the world almost ended. Clothes strewn across the floor, trophies lining small shelves, movie posters galore. You noticed a new poster though, one for Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Steve finally caught up to you, his perpetual gloominess temporarily taken over by confusion as to why you were suddenly here in his house. You sat on the edge of his bed and he followed suit, worry filling his entire being. Was this the end? Did you come to say goodbye? Steve’s heart beat rapidly in his chest, panic rising in his throat when you finally spoke.

“You said you wanted to explain, so explain,” your voice was soft and quiet, a tone completely unlike the one you used when you were mad. Steve was baffled, wanting to know what made you decide to hear him out, but he knew better than to waste what very well could be his last chance with you.

“I didn’t mean what I said in the record store. I didn’t mean any of it. I wanted to beat the shit out of Allen when he said that stuff,” Steve’s hands shook as he spoke, watching your face for any sign of emotion. He wanted to know what you were thinking, wished he could read your mind. But he couldn’t, so he continued. “It’s like every time I’m around someone from high school, I get pushed aside and someone else takes control of what I say. Someone that reminds me a lot of my father,” angry tears welled in Steve’s eyes. He hated that after all these years his dad still had such an impact on him and the way he acted.

“Steve,” you spoke up, still emotionless in your tone. But Steve stopped you, wanting to continue, practically begging you with his glassy eyes to let him. So you did.

“I know it's not an excuse, and it's so so shitty of me. But he’s just there in the back of my head reminding me that Harrington’s are winners,” a tear dripped down his cheek and it took a great deal of restraint from you to not reach out and brush it away. “I hate that I let him win. I hate that I ever betrayed your trust, that I was so mean to you in school, that I let you out of my life. I hate that I let Allen get away with what he said, that I agreed with him instead, because I don’t. I think you’re beyond perfect the way you are. I don’t want to change anything about you,” Steve stopped for a moment unsure if you’d let him continue. Little did he know that your breath had caught in your chest and extinguished any words that might have spilled from your lips.

“I never ever want to hurt you again,” Steve continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise, I won’t. I want to be better, I want to be the boy you trusted when we were kids. I care about you so unbelievably much. I never stopped, not once. Please let me prove it,” he’d moved closer to you and you let him, trying your best to keep your feelings hidden from your expression. You were close to breaking, to giving in, to letting yourself be unequivocally in love with Steve Harrington. But you still had to put up a fight, to prove it was the right choice, not just a never-ending loop of pain.

“I’ve given you so many chances, Steve. How do I know this one would be any different?” you couldn’t look at him, knowing you’d lose all your resolve if you did. So your eyes fell to your lap instead. Steve watched your avoidant gaze, wanting more than anything for you to face him.

“Because I love you,” it was firm and unwavering, a declaration spilled from Steve’s cracked lips. It snapped your attention to him immediately, granting Steve his previous wish. “I always have, even when we were kids. I got confused when popularity came into play, but it was still there, in the back of my mind. I didn’t know what it was then, but I do now, and I’ll do anything for you, anything to keep you with me,” Steve grew shy, still unable to tell how you feel. “I want you in any way that you’ll have me. Anything is fine with me as long as I have you back in my life. I just can’t lose you,” Steve finished, leaving his words in the air for you to respond. You took your time to collect your own thoughts, to steady the thump of your heart in your chest.

“Steve,” it was soft, gentle, longing, matching the tone Steve hoped to hear. “I don’t want to lose you either,” the words halted Steve’s heart in his chest. He hoped this was it, that you loved him the way he loved you. “I want to trust you again, but you have to earn it. We can't just keep hurting each other,” you asserted and Steve nodded wildly. You wanted to laugh at the way his hair flopped around on his head as he did it, but you refrained, simply letting a smile crest your lips instead. Steve’s lips matched yours, curling at the edges, and soon you found yourselves incapable of holding back the soft chuckles that rose in your throat.

Steve’s eyes never left you, admiring the smile he’d so dearly missed seeing. He only ever wanted for you to be happy, only wanted you to know you’re loved. And from here on out, he’d make sure that you were. You leaned forward resting your forehead against Steve’s, one last ditch attempt at your silly determination to communicate telepathically. It never worked with Eddie, so why not try it with Steve, the boy you loved since you were five. It would ease the tension, tell Steve what your lips were too scared to say.

“What am I thinking?” you asked, hands coming up to hold Steve’s shoulders in place. His hands wrapped around you, resting on your waist, feeling your scarred skin through the thin material of your shirt. Steve scoured his mind, focusing on you, the soft reflection of light in your eyes, the way your lips were dry and cracked, the curve of your cheekbones. You were more than beautiful to him, you were angelic, bewitching, radiant. You were everything he ever wanted and needed.

“That you like me too?” Steve put on his smug charm, trying to cover up his nervousness. It made you want to laugh, to kiss him, to tell him the truth.

“So close, Stevie. I was thinking more along the lines of love, but if that’s what you’re getting then, sure, we can go with that,” you shrugged jovially, a smile stretched across your cheeks as Steve’s jaw went slack. His eyes watched you for any sign of doubt, of mockery, but he couldn’t find any. He knew it then, you loved him too. Steve found your gaze, eyes whispering to him in their own secret language. Kiss me, they said, and who was he to deny them of their wish? Steve pulled you in, grip tightening on your waist as he did. Your chest was suddenly flush with his, your body now resting in his lap, lips only a breath away from meeting. It was a last chance to bow out, to give it up for good, but you didn’t want to. You tilted your chin, finally closing the gap and brushing your lips against Steve’s. The kiss was encompassed by every flower he’d ever picked for you, every peek behind closed curtains, every taunt and tease and fight, every innuendo, every unseen longing gaze, every utterance of the name Baby, all wrapped together. It felt like winning a game of hide-and-seek that had been called off after an hour of unsuccessful searching, a ring of smoke clinging to the air and lingering high only to be dissipated by the summer breeze, a ceasefire on the battlefield for a war that had gone on too long. It felt like Steve, and you couldn’t get enough of it. His lips danced with yours, never wanting to feel anything but the crush of you against him. But eventually, you ran out of air, pulling back enough to breathe, still keeping your forehead pressed to his.

“I think I knew you loved me because I always loved you too,” Steve’s words were breathy, softened with the heave of his chest. Your smile flashed through your heavy breaths and hot cheeks. Steve Harrington loved you, and you loved him too. It would take some getting used to, but you liked the sound of it. You couldn’t hold back any longer, leaning back in to reattach your lips to his.

A moan mixed in with the kiss, grumbling up from Steve’s throat. His hands shifted down past your waist, landing on your ass with a light squeeze. You laughed at the gesture, keeping your lips pressed against his, and Steve’s heart melted at the sound. But he didn’t have long to linger on the feeling, because your hips rolled against his crotch, catching him off guard. Steve’s mouth opened a bit at the feeling, eliciting a groan from deep within him. You took advantage of the opportunity and slid your tongue against Steve’s. You did the move that you always did, a roll of your tongue against his, and Steve’s fingers dug deeper into your skin.

“Fuck, is that the tongue thing that Hargrove was talking about?” Steve asked, pulling away for just a second before attaching his lips to the column of your neck.

“I don’t want to talk about Billy right now, okay?” you gasped as Steve’s teeth bit into the sensitive spot on your neck. You felt heat flush straight to your core and a whimper slipped from your lips. Steve was mesmerized, enthralled with the sweet sounds you made and the way your breaths picked up.

“Noted,” Steve spoke against your neck, sending vibrations down your spine. He worked his way back up to your lips, hand trailing under your shirt. You flinched when his hand brushed your scar, his cool fingers causing goosebumps to prickle your skin. You always had to lie to your hookups about where the scars came from, but you didn’t need to with Steve. He knew you. He had matching wounds. Steve pulled away, worried about the way you shuddered when he came into contact with the healed skin. But you just lifted your arms above your head, signaling for Steve to remove your shirt. The soft fabric slid from your skin, leaving your chest exposed. You’d foregone a bra that morning, and given the entranced look on Steve’s face at the sight of your bare breasts, you were really glad that you did. His hands gravitated towards your chest, cupping it gently. Steve’s thumbs came to rest on your nipples, brushing back and forth over them, evoking a delicious moan from your lips.

His mouth found yours again, and you couldn’t help the way your hips began to grind against his, craving friction to satisfy the heat pooling between your legs. You removed Steve’s shirt then, and instead of resuming his previous position, Steve tilted his head down, attaching his lips to one of your nipples. You couldn’t help the pleasure that coursed through your veins, grinding harder against Steve’s lap. He was hard beneath his sweatpants, and his length caught against your clit with each movement, only further riling you up. Soft moans fell from both of your lips in harmony until Steve’s mouth departed from your chest, shifting to lay you down with his body hovering over you. His lips were swollen and red, wet with his saliva as he gazed down at you. He looked at you with a hunger that he’d suppressed for far too long as his hands trailed down your stomach, slowly pulling down the sweatpants that rested on your hips. You lifted your bum, making it easier for Steve to take them off. Once your pants were discarded on the floor, Steve’s face shifted down, hovering over your clothed cunt.

“You don’t have to,” you spoke quietly, suddenly seeming shy and so drastically different from the girl who just rolled her tongue into Steve’s mouth.

“Trust me, Baby, I want to. I want to so fucking bad, have for a long time,” Steve’s eyes found yours, but he didn’t move from his spot between your thighs. His breath fanned over your skin, only adding more heat between your legs. He placed small kisses on your inner thighs and your back arched at the sensation. Steve truly had waited a long time to do this, thought about it late at night while his hand fisted his cock, so he was going to savor every second. His fingers dragged over your panties, drawing little stars over the material. You threw your head back, unable to contain yourself as a result of Steve’s teasing.

“Please Stevie, need you so bad,” you begged, breath coming out ragged and labored. Steve smirked up at you, finally hooking his fingers into the cotton material and yanking them off. He lowered himself further, breath now fanning over your exposed heat. Steve wasted no time, licking into your cunt, flexing his tongue with each flick back and forth through your wet folds. You gasped as he held down your thighs, holding them tightly around his head. His tongue was persistent, like a starved man eating for the first time in days. Steve’s hips rutted against the mattress, so turned on by the noises you made, the way you tasted, how you felt against his tongue. It got to a point where you could hardly keep still, squirming wildly beneath Steve’s steel grip, and he knew you were close.

His mouth came up to your clit, sucking it with enough force to make you whine out his name. He could come at just the sounds you made, but he held back, keeping his focus on your core and the shake that slowly began in your thighs. The coil that had been building in the pit of your stomach snapped, a wave of pleasure flooding through you. Steve lapped at your folds, capturing the last of your arousal on his tongue as you came down from your high, chest heaving and thighs quaking.

“Fuck, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Steve ran a hand through his hair, shifting up to place a kiss to your lips. You tasted yourself on him, a whimper escaping you in response. Without breaking the kiss, your hands came down, fumbling to rid Steve of his sweatpants, but he stopped you.

“I wanna return the favor, Stevie. Wanna make you feel good too,” you spoke between kisses and Steve pulled away, hastily shaking his head.

“You do that now and it’ll be all over. I’d rather come inside you, Baby,” Steve's eyes asked you for permission, wanting more than anything to be buried inside you. You understood what he meant and nodded eagerly, the idea reigniting the heat between your thighs. Steve got up quickly, pulling his pants from his legs. You repositioned yourself, now on your hands and knees, facing away from Steve. He kneeled on the bed behind you, one hand smoothing over the curve of your ass, gently finding its resting place on your waist. His lips placed a quick kiss to your spine as he took his length in his hand. He pumped himself a few times before lining up with your entrance, slowly pushing in with a wrecked moan. Your walls stretched around him, squeezing his length as he bottomed out. You couldn’t help the faint pants that fell from your lips at the feel of being so full.

“Fuck, Steve, so big,” you whined, arms weakly holding you in place. He chuckled behind you, trying to keep from blowing his load right then and there. You were so tight, your walls surrounding him perfectly. He slowly started to move, pulling his hips out gently and pushing himself back in. Steve was practically growling at the sensation of your walls clasped so close around him. As you both adjusted, Steve sped up, his hips bouncing quickly off the curve of your ass. It was hot and wet, hard and deep, the sound of skin slapping together filled the room.

“Taking me so good, Baby. Wanna hear those pretty sounds. Making ‘em just for me, right?” Steve’s breath was labored, trying hard to hold on as his fingers dug into your hips. You complied with Steve’s request, letting your stifled whimpers echo throughout the room. Steve pulled you up then, your back pressed to his front as your ass bounced off his thighs. He thrusted up into you and his hands came up to fondle your breasts. “Tell me you’re close, Baby. I can’t hold on much longer,” he muttered in your ear, ending his statement with another shaky groan. You nodded, the back of your head moving against his shoulder as you did. He quickened his pace then, using every last ounce of reserve that he had to pound into you, bodies pressing together. Your face scrunched in pleasure and Steve’s followed, both of you toeing the edge of blinding pleasure.

“Fuck, Stevie. Love you so much,” you moaned through ragged breaths, hand coming behind his head in an attempt to pull his lips to yours. The words you spoke and the crash of your lips against his had Steve coming undone. His hot streams of cum coated the inside of your walls, triggering your own high, cries of Steve’s name muffled by the taste of his swollen lips. You sunk back down onto his lap as he finally ceased his movements, resting on the back of his heels, still buried deep within you. His eyes met your soft gaze and he couldn’t help the uptick of his lips. You loved him and that’s all that mattered to him now.

The two of you cleaned yourselves up, slowly redressing to various degrees. Steve pulled on the boxers that were lost in his sweatpants while you draped your oversized shirt back over your frame. You gave up on trying to find your panties, accepting that they were now lost in the mess of Steve’s cluttered bedroom floor. You fell back into bed with Steve, rolling on your side to face him, the bed sheets draped over you. Steve’s legs brushed against yours, slowly intertwining until one of your legs rested between both of his. You caught sight of a cherry stem resting on his nightstand, one that had been tied in a knot, and held back your teasing remarks about him keeping it. Steve studied you, wanting to memorize this moment, each feature of your face. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up to the sight of your soft, pleasant smile as you watched over him in the same way he did to you. Eventually, Steve’s lids grew heavy, fluttering closed as he drifted off to sleep, you not far behind.

When you woke in the morning, you were still tangled together, radiating heat off one another to fill the otherwise cold morning air. You nestled your head into Steve’s bare chest, a soft groan slipping from him as he awoke. Neither of you wanted to get up, face the morning, and separate after a night together. The only reason you eventually did get up was because Steve had to go to work and you were sure your parents would notice your absence soon.

You went downstairs before him, waiting for him to find his car keys in the mess of his room. You shared a kiss on his doorstep, fingers tangling in Steve’s hair as he pulled your hips flush with his. A whine escaped you as he pulled away, leaning down to pluck a daisy from his mom’s well-manicured front garden. Steve tucked the daisy behind your ear, placing one last kiss to your lips before walking over to his car. He opened his car door, stopping for another glimpse of you before he left. You smiled at him, waving him off and watching as he backed out of the driveway. He blew you a kiss before putting the car in drive and pulling away. You held the kiss close to your heart, the heart that now belonged to him, and headed back across his lawn to your own house.

The smell of coffee wafted through the air as you shut the front door behind you. Your parents sat at the kitchen table, a newspaper between them and a cup of coffee each. You drifted into the kitchen, ignoring their questioning looks, and plugged the phone back into the wall. Your parents shared a silent look, a look of relief that the storm was over, that normalcy would soon resume.

You went upstairs then, entering your bedroom and pulling back the curtains that encompassed your window. You planned to leave a note for Steve stuck to the glass, the same way you used to when you were kids, one for him to find when he got back home from work. But when your eyes drifted to the window across from yours, you were met with confusion.

In place of the army of green men that once sat on the window sill was a pencil with a half sheet of white paper attached to it. A white flag. Steve surrendered, and the war was over. You smiled at the gesture before crafting your own flag to mirror the one across from you. It would be a truce then, breaking even and giving up the fight. The ache in your chest was quelled and replaced by an unfathomable warmth. There were no winners or losers anymore. There was just you and Steve, two lovers that took way too long to figure it out.

You would call Eddie and Robin later to explain the previous night’s events, but for now, you sat back on your bed, Pride and Prejudice clasped in your hands. You opened the cover, eyes landing on the bookmark between its pages, mind drifting off to the boy that picked you flowers and told you he loved you so long ago. Maybe you knew him all along. Maybe he wasn’t so different after all.

You put me on and said I was your favorite

The summer sun beat down on Steve’s tanned skin, sweat dripping from his brow, making a trail down his neck to the collar of his t-shirt. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, wishing to escape Hawkins’ summer heat. With a deep breath, Steve leaned down to grab the box at his feet, hoisting it up to hand to you. You stood in the back of a U-Haul, organizing the boxes that were handed to you. Your very sweaty boyfriend flashed you a smile before turning to go back into his house and grab more boxes.

“You guys couldn’t have picked a hotter day to move,” Eddie appeared in front of you, unruly curls stuck to his forehead and neck. You’d offered him a hair tie earlier, but he declined, now stuck suffering in the humid air. His arms were strained with the weight of the box he was carrying, clearly struggling more than Steve had been.

“Sorry, Eds. We can’t control the weather,” you took the box that he had brought out, placing it somewhere behind you in the truck. You brushed away the sweat that had formed above your lip and watched as Eddie shook his head.

“I can’t believe you guys are actually leaving,” a sad smile stretched his lips as he spoke. He knew that it would happen eventually, that you would leave behind this horror story of a town and start anew. You’d suffered more Upside Down related trauma than he had, and he knew the fears that still crept into your mind from time to time. It was a good change, even if it meant leaving the people you loved behind.

“Me too, honestly,” you looked up then, head snapping towards the sound of voices arguing in the distance. Steve and Dustin were on Steve’s front porch loudly talking back and forth about how to move Steve’s dresser from his room. Robin stood next to them, rolling her eyes and dragging Max towards your house to grab the last of your book collection. “I’m glad it's with him though,” you nodded your head towards Steve, who was still deep in his discussion with Dustin, wild hand gestures and all. Steve caught you gazing at him from the corner of his eye, shooting you a look that said ‘this kid is crazy’ before disappearing into the house, Dustin hot on his trail.

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are in love or whatever. We get it,” Mike appeared at Eddie’s side, his slim arms struggling to carry his box. You raised a brow at him, lifting the box from his arms with ease and he faced you with an unamused glare.

“I think it's sweet,” Will approached behind him, also unloading a box into your arms. He smiled at you sweetly, and suddenly it hit you how much you were going to miss all of them. The bickering and the fights, the tight hugs and reassurances that they would call to let you know they got home safe. The late nights spent overanalyzing every detail of some cheesy movie that you’d forget the plot of by the morning. And in the background of it all was Steve. His forlorn gaze as Nancy walked you down her driveway to your car. His open curtains waiting for your lights to flicker on when you got back from work. His grand gestures as he put himself in harm's way, trying to protect you. You pretended to hate each other, but now you know that you never really did.

The afternoon dragged on, the heat weighing heavy on everyone as boxes and furniture were piled into the truck. Eventually, you all finished and everything you owned was packed away. Steve grabbed a quick shower, rinsing the sweat from his body to make the long car ride more comfortable. You hugged your parents goodbye, urging them to come visit once everything was unpacked. The others still lingered, waiting to watch as you and Steve drove away. Tears filled their eyes and streamed down sweaty cheeks as you hugged each of the younger kids, promising to return for Thanksgiving.

Steve began his round of goodbyes, mainly opting for a secret handshake or a ruffling of hair. Robin squeezed you so tightly that you thought she might crack one of your ribs. She sniffled as she pulled away, moving on to give Steve the same crushing embrace. Eddie stood before you, his head tilted towards the ground. You brushed his hair back from his face, catching sight of his tear-stained cheeks. He pulled you close, arms encompassing your frame.

“You’ll call every week?” he spoke into your hair, burying his face in it to hide his swell of tears. You nodded against him, your own muffled cries slipping from your lips. He pulled back then, and Steve was right behind you.

Steve placed his hand on your back, guiding you to the front seat of the U-Haul. He said his goodbye to Eddie before joining you. Steve’s car was hooked up to the back of the truck and your parents planned to bring yours up with them when they came to visit.

You stood on the ledge of the truck admiring the sea of your friends that stood before you. They watched you with tearful eyes as you shot them one last watery smile and slid into your seat. Your gaze was pulled towards the side of your house, your bedroom window that sat across from Steve’s. It was funny to think how close he always was, even when he felt miles away. Steve’s hand brushed yours then, the tingle of skin pulling you from your thoughts.

“Ready to go, Baby?” Steve asked, reaching down to put the truck in gear. His hair was still wet, smelling of his lavender-scented shampoo. You ran your hands through it, brushing the loose strands to the side. Steve caught your hand, placing a small kiss on your palm before you could pull away.

Sixth grade Steve was right, you were leaving with your things packed into boxes and a new city calling your name. But not because you were the worm girl that was running away. It wasn’t because this town had terrorized and taunted you to the point of no return. You were leaving because you wanted to, not because you felt forced out. And sixth grade Steve was wrong about you finding the love of your life once you left too, because you’d already found him, and for that Steve couldn’t be happier.

“With you?” you questioned, eyebrows raised, hand still encompassed by Steve’s. He nodded, showing you that smile that he reserved just for you. The same one he gave you as you sat on the sidewalk with dried worms newly relocated to the surrounding grass. You mirrored his look, gazing into his hazel eyes with all the love and adoration you had acquired for him over the years. “Always.”

2K notes · View notes

princessjojo-x · 28 days

Text

8th House Synastry ✨

eight house rules sex, transformations, merged energies, deep attachments & bonding at the deepest level. this is a a highly intense, fated, addictive, intoxicating, sexual & sometimes frightening rxship. expect obsession, control, friendly competition & high physical attraction. the potency of this aspect can be felt the moment partners meet one another & will intensify the more partners get to know one another. but if partners can handle it, this connection can lead to a beautiful & long lasting rxship, with great learning & genuine devotion. the concept of soul mates being found in eighth house synastry can be true.

within this synastry, everything is felt too much & seems more intense; even a simple glance can send shivers down one’s spine, even small disputes will be hard to forgive & forget. partners will have the highest of highs together & the lowest of lows together. platonic or sexual, interactions with one another will have a very intense undertone. it can even be an enemies to lovers dynamic or a love/hate rxship that hurts so good. the connection becomes much deeper than partner’s anticipated. they planned to have a noncommittal & fun arrangement. but they suddenly want to have an official rxship & hate when that cant be fulfilled. it’s hard for partners to just be “cool” or “superficial” with each other.

if second house is self sufficiency, eight house is merging with someone else. within this emotionally deep rxship, there’s a depth that pervades the connection & binds the partners together, for better or worse. partners suddenly want to change their life path to align with the other. for example, changing their location or career just to be interlocked with one another. it can be so painful if the attraction isn’t mutual which can lead you to act in ways you never thought you’d act (stalking, love spells, extremely possessive behaviour). but if the attraction is mutual it can be one of the most beautiful & deepest rxships.

one subconsciously sees the other as a blessing delivery or redirection to their life, even if they’re being mistreated & the rxship is toxic. this aspect almost always involves blessings disguised in suffering, so it’s not best placement for synastry, unless its backed up by stronger & more grounded placements

it's in the darkness that we find the light & it's in the intensity of these rxships that we find our true selves. romantic or platonic, these rxships are often fated & transformative. their involvement with each other will drastically change both of them. they meet each other to teach each other a lesson they’ll never forget. even though the transformation process can be utterly harsh & traumatic, it produces a new & improved version them. similar to a major surgery, it fixes the problem within but definitely leaves a scar, so you remember the pain of the recovery process.

if second house is our self esteem, eight house is our weak spot. this is where our secrets reside so partners unknowingly uncover each others rawest layers. forget small talk & superfical relations. expect to unveil each-others deepest wounds, fears & desires. even if one is too scared of revealing themself, the other can read them like a book regardless. even if one is typically not the type to disclose their business, they will naturally share their whole life story with the other. partners will be able to open up completely & be understood in a way they never have before. partners bond by delving beneath the tip of the iceberg. but this can become their only point of attraction to one another, whilst their other basic needs for a rxship are not met. many people can't handle this synastry bc its so invasive & overwhelming. eight house governs the deep parts of ourselves that we want to keep hidden. when those parts are seen we feel vulnerable. partners know exactly what to say to either bring up or take down each other. this is an all or nothing rxship which flows deep enough to hurt or heal both partners. it will either cause everlasting love or everlasting trauma.

eight house governs our inner power. planet is able to easily see everything house is capable of. this breeds a rose coloured glasses effect. planet perceives house as more attractive, scary, important etc than house actually is. but this may cause planet to feel intimidated, threatened & jealous. planet’s envy of house provokes planet to gossip or betray house. on the other hand, planet may feel fascination & admiration for house. this causes planet to talk abt house a lot & this is where the infamous obsession comes from. planet may become obsessed with houses hidden side which prompts planet to cross a lot of houses boundaries. for example, planet going through houses phone or diary. when healthy, planet could have a desire to empower house or planet could feel more empowered around house. when unhealthy, planet feels powerless around house & wants to prove themselves to house. what the power struggle is abt depends on the planet. for example, venus causes a power struggle over who’s the most popular, beautiful, wealthy etc.

if second house is the sugar daddy, eight house is the sugar baby. partners may feel urged to give or gain from one another. it's advised to connect with someone you have this synastry with if they have a higher position than you professionally or materially so you can learn from them & gain from the rxship.

since this is such an intense connection, it is difficult for partners to leave each other completely. whenever partners try to move on, there is a sense of being haunted (which is amplified if accompanied by twelve house synastry). for example, you accidentally bump into their friends or family, you see their name eveywhere, you hear the songs they like, you find people with similar faces to them. being constantly reminded of them is why it’s so hard to let them go.

(virgo/libra/sag asc or aquarius placements)

Moon Conjunct 8th House

moon becomes fascinated & obsessed with house emotionally & sexually. moon needs to know everything abt house, including secrets which aren’t shared with anyone else. moon will even cross some boundaries to get this info. moon either doesn’t realise or doesn’t care abt how weird this behaviour may seem. despite house being attracted to moon too, house feels constantly analysed by moon. moon feels the need to spend a lot of time with house to know how they are or see if they need something. house senses the power they have over moon.

however, if there is no physical attraction between these partners or many other bad aspects elsewhere, this connection can become extremely annoying for partners. if these two become enemies there will be no boundaries when it comes to what they will do to take each other down.

moon can be scary obsessed with house & very controlling over how house expresses themselves. moon turns this obsession into a dislike, becoming houses biggest hater, competing with house, gossiping abt house, etc. this can be be very one sided on moons part.

whether they are lovers or enemies, there is no denying house provoke something so intense within moon & moon feels deep emotions when in the company of house. partners always feel what the other feels.

there is always a fear of vulnerability from both partners within this synastry.

(aquarius moon or virgo asc)

Venus Conjunct 8th House

there is a lot of feminine energy & themes here unlike ‘mars conjunct eight house’. this means manipulation, guilt trips, pettiness & emotional outburst will occur frequently. expect strong possession & obsession too, which will be amplified beyond belief if venus is insecure in any way.

venus embodies pluto traits & behaves more tense. house will protect venus from the world. there is a mystery surrounding house that venus can't seem to wrap their head around.

there may be a lot of secrets shared or a lot of secrets kept in this rxship. the rxship may remain a secret from the public eye.

the sex will not be the “one-night stand” type. it will be emotionally deep, affecting both partners.

(aquarius venus or libra asc)

Mars Conjunct 8th House

theres a lot more masculine themes & energy here compared to ‘venus conjunct eighth house’. no matter how airy or earthy mars may be… mars feels very thrilled by house & feels a sense of urgency to conquer house. mars feels compelled to bond & merge with house on every level bc they view house as their guilty pleasure. mars finds themselves constantly observing & intensely infatuated by house in a scorpion way. mars often expresses random & intense bursts of needing to physically touch or be in close reach to house. mars can take on a very intense energy around house that others will pick up on but the sheer depth is something that’ll always only exists between the two partners. convos between the two are very 1 on 1, even with people around them. initially, house feels scared & timid towards mars since mars has such a straightforward, pushy, dominant & rushing approach. house needs to see progress before completely losing their restraint & expressing their feelings. however, house simultaneously feels extremely sexy, mesmerised & aroused by mars’s raw desire. house can read mars very well. mars may provide for house. mars doesn’t forget abt house easily bc house changes mars’s life. rxship may be difficult to end bc mars will be persistent in continuing the rxship.

s3xual tension between partners is powerful & even others can feel it. this can cause partners operating more on instincts & lacking awareness of basic emotions. theres a strong need for physical intimacy & touch. for example, gentle touching or outright fighting. s3x if ever allowed can easily become addictive. partners have s3x like the world is going to end, possibly in forbidden places or secret spots. the s3x involves a lot of teasing, power plays, helping each other masturbate & holding each other as close as possible. s3x is use as an escape or release of stress. s3xually mars takes on a aggressive & passionate role whilst house can become very wild.

since this is the house of taboo, the attraction may be wrong in some way & the rxship feels forbidden even if it’s not. it may be a secretive dynamic where nobody knows they’re together or people wouldn’t expect them to be together.

despite partners feeling intrigued & excited for each other, there’s possibility of heavy feelings (frustration) for one another. one day they love each other, the next day they want to avoid each other. traumas can show through this rxship, like deep talks at night or triggering each others deep wounds. they like to pull each other, but neither takes the bait.

(libra asc or aqua mars)

#astro notes #astrology #astrology synastry #eighth house #mars synastry #moon synastry #venus synastry #synastry

535 notes · View notes

sageryuri · 17 days

Text

NEW YOU, JAKE SIM.

pairing jake sim + afab!reader.

genre fluff, angst, smut.

summary all hell breaks loose when you, the heir to the throne, decides to run away to begin a new life. luckily, you experience a surprise encounter with jake sim, which brings upon freeing adventures and sprouts a taboo relationship between a princess, and a poor criminal.

word count 10.7k (unedited).

warnings i’m sorry for the beomgyu slander 😔, jake refers to reader as princess as much as he can really, suicide mentions, family toxicity, NSFW MINORS DNI!!! (fingering fem!receiving, handjob, oral male!receiving, unprotected sex, light choking), death mentions.

an tis here!! took me awhile but i always prevail. ty for all the support <3

Royalty never lived up to the expectations that outsiders had anticipated. None of the money, gowns and experiences would live up to what those people would always have — complete freedom.

They could travel whenever they desired, do what activities they desired, be with who they desired; ultimately being who they wanted to be. You were stuck on the inside of a kingdom, and despite its tremendous size, it could never live up to the feeling of adventuring outside of the castle walls.

You had been unsure what you had done wrong to deserve something so terrible, but you had been enforced into a marriage that you would never agree to. In fact, they were so enthralled by this marriage, that you were not allowed to leave the premises so you couldn't meet anyone else until you had fallen in love.

Though, you don't think anyone could fall in love with Choi Beomgyu. He was idiotic, vain, rude and every other possible negative adjective you could think of. Even those who matched his asininity would barely be able to cope in his presence.

However, you sense you're the only one who doesn't fall for his 'charms' since everyone else seems to fawn over him whenever he appeared. Of course, you had to be the one who would in be betrothed to him in the end.

You had simply had enough.

As it was, you weren't a fan of your life before the marriage had been finalised. You weren't suited to the position of a queen nor did you want to follow that lifestyle. All that you wanted was the opportunity to be free.

What could be any better than making a plan to run away?

This was probably the fifth ball you had attended this month; you weren't sure why they had them so much, because they all had the same step-by-step procedure as if it was some form of experiment.

You would watch as your parents made their way around, greeting the same people, the same way, as if they hadn't seen each other a week ago. It was comedy-worthy how absolutely fake every single person here had been.

Within minutes of being there, you had already made your way over to the buffet table where your only friend, Julia, had been encouraged (practically scolded by your mother) to stand.

Her mother had been your babysitter as a child since it was rare your parents would find the time to actually spend any moments with you. Julia was the same age, so had grew up alongside you. It was interesting how opposite both of your lives had turned out to be despite being brought up by the same person, just with different blood.

"God, this is just as boring as I'd imagine it to be. Look at them all, it's like a food chain. I'm shocked nobody had cracked yet." You stand next to her, avoiding the gaze of everybody else in the room as you usually would.

"You shouldn't speak that way, you never know who is listening in." Julia had always been nervous when it came to your public conversation, considering she'd likely receive more of a punishment then you would, however, she leans into you more, "I would have to agree though. I could not point out a singular person who genuinely looks interested in their conversation."

"I mean, look at that herd of girls over there. They've been squawking with each other all evening, but I definitely saw Emily pointing fingers at Destiny last week." You nod your head towards the group that stood near the entrance, all chatting with one another as if they wouldn't talk behind each other's backs any other time of day.

Your eyes shift along, expecting to find another group of people to roll your eyes at, instead encountering quite a surprise. There's a servant that you don't quite recognise; brown shaggy hair, the same familiar white uniform that appears to be loose fitting, but seems to still look just right.

Surely, you think, you would have remembered someone like him.

"Julia, do you recognise him? I'm not quite sure he's ever been here before." You ask, she looks in your direction with furrowed brows as she takes in the man that you're looking at. She squints her eyes, thinking, then shakes her head.

He hadn't done anything to imply he was up to something suspicious, but you had a strange feeling about him. Feeling entranced by him, you try to think of a normal excuse so that you could speak with him — but your parents get to you first.

"Darling! Where have you been? We have been looking for you everywhere!" She beams at you, rather fabricated considering her eyes seem to be filled with annoyance since you had been staying distant from her the entire ball.

Unfortunately for you, Beomgyu slides into the conversation with his horrifically flirtatious smile that only forms disgust in your mind. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on it; Julia stifles a laugh when you side-eye her.

"It's nice to see you again, my love." He smirks at you, your mother almost clapping her hands in excitement as she watches, "Care to dance?"

Your mind searches for any excuse to refuse his offer, but your mother's fiery gaze barely gives you the option to think. You hate to be like everyone else in the room, but you give your best smile and place your hand into his.

Considering this would be your last time making your mother happy, you may as well allow it to happen.

The moment you reach your bedroom, you fall into your bed with a long groan. To be expected, the dress and makeup had taken at least an hour to remove, reaching almost one AM by the time you were in your chamber.

Minutes later, Julia wanders in her room for her 'nightly duties' — gossiping with you after a exhausting day. She conforms to you, jumping on your bed as you had.

"You look worn out- well, I'm not surprised after that." When she says that, you know she's referring to the excruciating dance that you had the dishonour (to yourself) of taking part in, "How was that enchanting dance?"

"I'm not sure if he was nervous or it was just natural, but his hands were incredibly sweaty! Normally I wouldn't judge, but surely you wouldn't hold someone's hand for that long when they're practically slipping off." Julia bursts into laughter at your response, tears spilling from her eyes.

You're going to miss Julia. In honesty, she was the only person that could keep you here and you wish you could take her with you. It would be too dangerous and risky, so you would have to give her the best.

"Julia... I was hoping you could help me with something." You take your bottom lip between your teeth and she looks at you expectingly, eyes boring into yours, "I'm really not sure how you will take this thought of mine, but it's truly what I think will be the best. I want to leave, and go far way."

Her mouth opens, no words to be spoken but it is clear she has many things to say.

"I know I should have mentioned my feelings to you earlier, and I am sorry for my selfishness. This is something I need, and I want your help, if you could." You look at her with hope, praying that there was something that she could do for you.

She sighs.

"I know a way that you'll be able to leave, quite easily." She states, she watches as your eyes light up and you become more absorbed in the conversation, "I know that they don't allow you to go into the basement of the castle. It's because there's a passageway through and door that leads through to the outside. It hasn't been used in many years."

In your mind, you recall every time someone had tensed up or began stuttering over their words whenever you got too close to that basement door. It was as if they knew that you had been planning to do something drastic, such as running away.

"How on earth would I get there if they're so cautious about me going in? It doesn't sound too wise." You sit up from your previous position, walking over to your wooden desk to take a seat. Allowing your head to fall into your hands, you question whether this was possible.

"Well... At particular times of the day, the guards leave their stations. Usually during your late dinners, actually- and around 4AM in the morning when they begin preparing for you to awake. If you can get out of the diner tonight, I'll show you." She whispers under her breath at you, just in case anyone had been deciding to listen in at the wrong time.

You have never hugged someone as tightly as you had with Julia. Within minutes, you had gone from having zero idea of how to get to your own paradise to having a knight in shining armour that so happened to be your best friend.

The dinners with your family were the worst part of being a royal; you had to spend an extended amount of time with them. Despite being your blood, they never felt like they were. Realistically, they likely didn't care for you that much, you were created for an alliance.

Even if it hadn't been explicitly stated, there was no doubts that it was the reality.

If you had to admit anything, the dining hall was gorgeous. The walls are as tall as can be, painted portraits and landscapes scattering every wall. Candles are sporadically placed around the room, as well as in the large hanging chandelier.

However, the gigantic table in the centre just made the dinners much more awkward.

"I see you talked with Prince Beomgyu at the last ball. I'm glad the two of you are getting along well." Your father speaks up for the first time during your dinner and to no surprise, it's involving mentions of your 'future' marriage partner.

"Barely..." You mumble under your breath, just loud enough for them to be able to hear, but low enough that they were unable to tell it was intentional.

You needed a reason to be able to leave, since they would never allow you to go to your room when you wanted to. On many occasions, you remember how whenever you argued or became upset, they would just let you to leave so they would't have to acknowledge the needed confrontation.

"Why can't you just be kind to him? He has done nothing but treat you right and you have hardly said one word to him." Your mother places her cutlery down and glares at you, as if you were someone she had become enemies with.

Just one more day.

"Me and all the other women he has been trying to court. I'm going to bed, I'm not hungry anymore." You retort back, standing up and storming your way out of the room. As expected, they don't follow you or say a word.

Quickly, you walk back to your room to see Julia already waiting inside for you, "We have to move fast. We have enough time but I'd rather we get in and out so we don't get caught, if all goes well, you could get out tonight." Julia grins with mixed emotion; ecstatic you're finally getting what you deserve, upset that she'll likely never see you again.

"I don't think I could ever thank you enough, I love you, Julia." You want to give her another tight hug, but there is not enough time in the day. Instead, she pulls you along to take you to the sacred basement floor.

Your heart thumps harshly in your chest as you stand in front of the door. Julia pushes it open slowly to avoid loud creaks and squeaks.

As slow as you can, you walk down the stone stairs that lead down to the basement. It is barely lit, just bright enough to be able to see where you are placing your feet on the stairs. Eventually, you reach a dingy room that is filled with miscellaneous items.

"I... don't see a door anywhere." Your eyebrows furrow as you walk around the room, squinting through the darkness in order to try and find this supposed door. In fact, you don't think you can see any other way out of the basement apart from the door you had entered from.

"It's hidden for a reason, look here." Julia remarks, you turn around to look at where she is standing. She taps her foot onto a particular area of the floor, which appears to sound more hollow than the rest of it.

The floor isn't easy to see, so you get onto your knees in order to touch around, feeling how the stone flooring feels like wood instead. With a large grin, you stand up and hug Julia one last time.

"You go back to your room now so that they don't see you down here, I can think of an excuse for myself if anything happens. It's already unlocked and goes straight out." She pulls back, her hand resting on your cheek, "If this is the last I see of you, I appreciate everything you've done for me. You're my closest friend and I hope I'll get to see you again in the future, much happier than you are now."

When your eyes begin to fill with water, you make your way back up the stairs and towards your bedroom and attempting to look as innocent as possible. Patiently, you watch the hours on the clock go by.

You begin to feel like the moment isn't real; not when it reaches 3AM and your hands are shaking against your door handle. The large door feels more intimidating than usual, as if it had started to grow along with your draining anxiety throughout the waiting process.

Hastily, you move through the many corridors without giving another thought because you may just second guess yourself and decide this was not your smartest idea.

As Julia has reassured you, you didn't bump into any of the royal guards — you realise they aren't the greatest, since they appeared to be nowhere in sight. You likely could have done this months ago when you began considering the idea.

This is the quietest you had ever heard the expanse of the castle to be, if it had been this way all the time, you would have liked it more. Instead, you were stuck with the family talking your ears off every second like nails on a chalk board.

You reach the basement, feeling around on the floor until you find the door again. A proud smile appears on your face when you feel the handle, though as you're pulling it up, someone or something on the other side seems to be opening it too.

"Huh?" You gasp out, almost flinging backwards when the door opens at lightening speed, revealing a very familiar face, "It's you!"

You remember him perfectly, his face was hard to forget. Opposed to his clean appearance when you had seen him at the ball, he looks muckier and he definitely wasn't wearing royal attire this time.

"Who the hell are you?" His expression displays confusion and his voice is almost aggressive, as if he isn't the one coming in from the outside; despite the tone, the thick accent that is diversely different from your own sticks out to you clearly. No one in the area sounded as he did.

"Me? Why on earth are you sneaking into the castle? Do you have a death wish?" You whisper-shout at him, mirroring his distress towards you. He doesn't respond, looking just as baffled as you are, "How long have you been doing this for? God, the security here is dreadful."

Suspecting you had been too loud because the man before you interrupted the original plan, as you had likely done to him, the sound of feet thundering above you caused your stomach to drop and your body to freeze up.

"Shit, shit, shit!" His eyes widen and he examines the room, biting his bottom lip when he can't think of anything. He sighs and puts his attention back on you, "Whatever you're doing, make your decision now or you're dead meat. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today."

He holds his hand out towards you, urging you to take it so he can help you down into the pathways below you. After a mere thought of going back and the sound of banging on the basement door, you close your eyes and take his hand into yours.

The path becomes a blur the faster he pulls you through, but you feel a weight lift of your shoulders the further you are away from that door. Finally, you feel the cold breeze of the outside, a simple experience that you had not truly felt in many months.

You don't think you could explain to another human how incredible you felt in the moment, and with the adrenaline pumping through your body you couldn't feel any better.

Eventually, your running comes to a halt when you're dragged into a run-down cottage hidden behind moss, grown out leaves and grass. It's nothing, minuscule, compared to your old home, but you like it.

Funnily, you had almost forgotten about the man who had saved your skin, now panting with his hands on his knees. He stands straight after a minute or so, looking you in your eyes that are as wide as a deers in front of headlights.

"This, uh, this isn't where I live. I just come here when I finish up my business, which you impolitely interrupted. You want to tell me what you were doing? You seemed pretty desperate to get out of there." He walks over to a desk next to the bed, which was on the verge of falling apart, and pulls out a handkerchief from the open draw.

Even though his own face was covered in dirt and sweat, he makes his way over to you and dabs away at whatever had made its way onto yours. Then, he shoves it into his back pocket before stepping back from you.

"I'd much rather know your name first. You know, you don't make yourself appear very trustworthy being so sneaky." You fold your arms over each other, giving him an accusatory look. In return, he just laughs and you look away so you wouldn't feel hypnotised by his smile.

"You're very feisty. I'm Jake, Jaeyun, whatever you want to call me. Now, you." Now knowing his name, you think that it fits him flawlessly; you wouldn't attach any other name to his pretty face. There is a chair next to the desk which he pulls out to take a seat on, pointing his hand out towards the bed.

You noticed he had a habit of using gestures instead of his words.

"Well Jake, it's nice to meet you." The bed isn't comfy at all, but you know you should appreciate there is even one in front of you in the first place, "I needed to leave, my parents didn't really put me in the best situation, so I took it upon myself to get out of it before it was too late."

"Well, shit. You're the princess aren't you? You're worth a lot of money, you know." When you don't laugh, eyes somehow becoming even wider than they were previously, he shakes his head while he stands to place a hand on your shoulder, "I'm joking, don't look so terrified. The bed won't be up to your standards, but you're free to sleep and we'll figure something out for you in the morning."

"What about you? Mustn't you sleep?" You question, you still feel uncomfortable sitting on the bed, not wanting to attempt to sleep while he is wide awake near you. Not that you didn't trust him, but it only made you feel more awkward.

"I'll be okay. Don't worry, I'm not going to chuck you out while you're sleeping, you can breathe. And don't be so tense, you can trust me, princess." He grins at you, the light from the lantern made him look ethereal, though your heart still beats fast with conflicted feelings.

The conversation ends there, he turns the chair around the face the desk which was opposite the bed. You aren't sure what he is doing, but you feel better with him looking away. Hesitatingly, you find yourself falling into a light sleep, being awoken by the slightest noise.

You don't sleep very well that night.

The pain in your back is hard to ignore, you aren't so used to having such a springy and old bed. For a second, you expect to see Julia opening up the door to your chamber, but you are instead met with Jake walking back through the rusty door.

"Good morning, princess. I brought you some new clothing back, I imagine that cute nightgown of yours isn't so comfortable for the day." Jake holds up some clothing, what your parents would refer to as 'peasant attire'. You can feel your cheeks heat up since you had forgotten you had left wearing your nightgown in a rush.

"Thank you... for the- for the fresh clothing. I appreciate your kindness." Happily, you take the clothing from his hands. They're warm, as if they had been laid in front of a fireplace for a few hours. The new feeling of warmth after having to be used to the cruel, cold cottage brings you joy.

"No worries, sweetheart. I have a proposition for you when you're ready." You reply silently to him, with a nod of the head, then leave to go into what appears to be a bathroom.

In the mirror, you see what the last day had done to you. There's only specs of dirt left on your face, you imagine it had been significantly worse before Jake had cleared it away. Bags under your eyes show clear, causing you to let out a long sigh.

Having to get used to no longer being pampered and cared for anymore was looking harder than you anticipated. You had barely considered the cons of your actions. After a few moments of processing the past day and making yourself appear more presentable, you leave the bathroom to see Jake waiting for you, reading a book.

"I can take you somewhere that's alot safer than here. It's probably not what you want at the moment, but it's probably the best you're going to get for now." Jake places the book down and diverts his eyes to you. His eyes rack over your body, not in a sexual manner, just to examine the fitting of the clothing.

"Could you tell me what you meant by 'business'? I haven't associated myself with those people for a long time, so I won't get you into any trouble. I don't mean to intrude, but you practically know my story." Anxiously, your hands clasp in front of you and you can't bring yourself to look at him in the eyes yet.

"Well, I guess I'll trust you. Me and my family aren't very well off, if you couldn't tell. It's not east to get jobs, and even the boys who do have jobs barely get a penny." He sighs, you begin to feel bad for asking, "Surprisingly, assigned waiters and waitresses get paid enough for us to afford what we need and I'm nimble enough to get in there and fake the job. I wouldn't have done it without Julia."

Your brain short-circuits and your head shoots up to look at Jake. Confused, he looks between you and the wall at the sudden change in body language, waiting for you to speak.

"Julia? You know Julia? We were close and she never mentioned you, she even acted like she didn't know you when I asked. Did she not trust me?" Your eyebrows furrow as you start to question yourself, and everything that you had experienced.

Jake only grins at your concern and shakes his head in disagreement.

"She was always so cautious, I did tell her not to bring this up, I'm sure she was worried of others listening. She helped me- alot. Wouldn't have done any of this without her.” He reassures you, the two of you decide to end this particular conversation there.

Thinking back to his proposition, you collect whatever you have left of your belongings and place them into a straw bag which had been placed next to the bed. Jake nods towards the door with a barely noticeable smile.

The door opens and you wince at the sun burning into your eyes. It radiates through your skin when you take your first step outside. Your hands grip harder onto the bag as you follow behind Jake to your next stop in your journey.

Neither of you take it upon yourself to start conversations. You don't have a problem with him and he has no issues with you, but it's obvious that there was a silent agreement that you would try and help each other and part ways.

At least that was how you had taken the last few hours. This was a new, blooming path for you, and you couldn't allow anyone to hold you back. No matter how much you may start to enjoy Jake's company, he had a family he cared deeply for and you had places you wanted to go.

After an hour or two, stopping off for the occasional rest, you encounter another cottage. Larger than the last, and taken care of. Flowers grow all around in bright colours, the brick the cottage is made out of being painted a gorgeous beige and darkened smoke peering out of the chimney.

After being at awe at how beautiful you found the cottage to be, you then see two younger boys tending to a garden filled with various fruits and vegetables. They look up, confused by your presence, but their faces light up once they see Jake.

"Jae, You're back! We were starting to get a little worried about you." They both come running towards Jake, diving into his arms as he hugs them closely to his body. You can't help but smile at the love for each other that beams from them — you almost begin to feel jealous.

"I have a come back rate of 100%, I'm invincible at this point, Won." Jake places light kisses on the top of their heads, and then their attention lands on the elephant in the room, you, "Yeah, uh, this is a recent friend of mine."

Once you give your name to his brothers, they seem to put the puzzle pieces together. The taller ones jaw drops while the other's eyebrows fall into anger.

"Sim Jaeyun what the hell have you gotten yourself into! Heeseung is going to be furious!"

Heeseung was in fact furious.

The eldest had spent about twenty minutes stalking around the cottage's main room rebuking Jake for doing something so impulsive, like allowing the runaway princess to take refuge in their home without speaking with the rest of them.

You almost stood up to leave them alone due to feeling rude and awkward, but Jake and his brother’s Jongseong and Riki were adamant on letting you stay since you had nowhere else to go. Somehow, they convinced the rest of them.

Over the month you had been living with the seven boys, something in your mind had switched. In such a short amount of time, all of them had become prominent figures in your life and it felt like you had been there forever.

One thing that you couldn't push through was the different between how you felt about Jake compared to the rest of his brothers. The touches between you both always lingered longer and you would always notice the way he would watch you while Jungwon taught you how to correctly tend to the garden.

It was a quiet day, most of the boys were tired and taking the hours to rest, most of them sleeping apart from Sunoo who silently read a book at the dining table, and you who had been sowing away to a shirt Sunghoon had accidentally ripped.

The constant silence, apart from the sound of pages turning and the fire crackling, was broken by a loud yawn as Jake opens his bedroom door. Sunoo doesn't spare him a glance, but you look up from your needle and thread to give the man a sweet smile.

"Good morning- well, afternoon, princess." He beams, making his way over to you. Both of his hands lay on either side of your shoulders and it takes everything in you not to tense up at the sudden touch.

"What did I say about calling me princess, Jaeyun?" You murmur, still trying to concentrate on the shirt in front of you. Jake's head is now placed upon yours, and you wonder if he's trying to or is blissfully unaware that he's flustering you to the highest degree.

"That I should stop calling you princess- but it suits you so well! And I think you should keep calling me Jaeyun, I like it." He replies, you roll your eyes and give up with your task. Jake moves away from you, so you turn around in your chair to face him.

"I'll think about it." You smirk at him, he opts to sit next to you and lay his head onto the table as if he had still been tired, "I thought you would be sleeping all day."

"Well... I was wondering if you wanted to take a ride in our sailing boat. I could teach you how to use it. It's too warm for me to sleep." He responds, his head being hidden in his arms consequently leaves you unable to see the pink shade that spreads across his cheeks.

"That would be nice, I've always wanted go ride in a boat- my parents never let me do anything." Finishing up, you finally stand from the chair to stretch your legs, cracking your fingers due to the ache in them.

"You can do anything that you want now. They'll always be looking for you, but we can get you far enough that they won't be able to find you." Jake purses his lips, looking away from you before continuing, "Though you’re always welcome to stay here."

"You know that I can't." You hadn't meant to sound so cold.

Jake becomes more and more despondent every time you reject his offer of staying with him. The others boys had grown fond of you, just as he had, you were safe and free from the sickening hold of your biological family.

Alas, you wanted excitement over tranquility.

The lake behind the house could have been the most perfect sight. Somehow, the water had stayed as clean as it could be, you could see the bottom of the shallow areas. What you liked the most was the natural decoration of trees and flowers, moments like this could convince you to stay.

As expected, the boat is still attached to the pier. It was rare they ever used it, often just fishing from the pier itself, but the warm day warranted a little change.

You and Jake walk side by side in a comfortable silence, something the two of you had grew to enjoy. Over years, you had gotten used to constantly being surrounded by noise that the serenity of the cottage on rest days felt strange — you never got rest days.

At first, any kind of silence was uncomfortable, though you hardly realised it had become pleasant.

Jake gets into the boat, holding out his hand to carefully help you in. He leans over to reach for the oars, and you take a seat across from him, "How am I supposed to teach you from all the way over there?"

"Where else am I supposed to go?" You raise an eyebrow at him. He shows off a flirtatious smirk and pats the little area that is left in front of him.

Jake did a brilliant job at making you frantic; you'd never experienced a relationship such as this, apart from Beomgyu, who you would rather never hear of again.

Slowly, you take your seat in front of him, back pressed snugly against his warm chest.

"Hold tight, I'll hold my hands over yours and show you how to do it properly." The two of you seem to be holding hands a lot lately. He tries to hold your hands as daintily as he could to ensure his tight grip wouldn't hurt you, and begins to row, "You're a natural."

"I guess I'm simply just good at everything." You joke, and you finally let the stiffness in your body go, moving with your thoughts to distract yourself, "I wonder how Julia is doing... I feel awful for having to leave her."

You had worried for Julia every single day. There had been no news, at least not that the boys had heard of yet; by now, you expected a large-scale search where guards and soldier would be loitering around every corner, but not one had been seen in the area. You wondered if she was safe.

"You had no choice. I'll always wish her the best, she really did everything she could for me, for us. We had a real hard time last year." He replies, staring off into the distance as he continues to row the boat, you're barely putting in any effort.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened? Whenever it seems to come in to conversation, everyone gets quiet and moves on." You ask, almost hesitantly.

Parts of you disliked that you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you. It wasn't your business, and a topic they had been evading conversation about since it happened. Though you cared about them, and want to take care of them.

"We were really struggling, the worst it had been. It was like everything that could go wrong, was going wrong. We had no food and we were freezing. There was a lot of pressure on all of us, and I guess Hoon just couldn't take it anymore. I had to jump in to pull him out of the water and I can still remember how hard he had sobbed in my arms."

"Oh Jake, I'm so sorry. None of you deserved that kind of life, you're all so loving and kind. I'm glad you all had each other, I can't imagine what you've been through." At some point, you had moved to turn your body around to face him. You had never been so close to his face before, yet it felt so familiar.

"Without Julia I'm not sure we'd still be here, so fucking up the system was our best choice. I guess I would never have met you either if I never went through with it- and I sure would have regretted that." He grins, and you can't help but return it.

"All of you are so strong, you're amazing, Jaeyun." You remind him, and hope this will be something he and his brothers will always know.

There are continuous shifts in the air whenever you are left together, as if every moment brings you so much closer, but formed a theory that there wasn't a moment where you hadn't known Jake Sim, like he was everlasting in your life.

It’s cut short when Riki comes running down from the cottage, almost tripping over his own feet. His face isn't entirely visible from the length away, but your stomach drops as you sense something is wrong. Just minutes ago, he was fast asleep.

As fast as possible, Jake rows himself back to the pier where Riki is stood, taking deep breaths. He appears bothered by something, and his concerned attention seems to be on you the whole time.

"You guys- you're going to end up in big trouble. Jesus, some guards just turned up at the door, pretty much just as you reached the pier. They didn't recognise you from so far away, we told them that you were going far out and couldn't come back, but they said they'll come back later to talk to you."

You are so, so scared; you can feel your body begin to shake as what you had been anticipating finally happens. It had been so long, that you had started to consider the idea that they swiftly moved on from you. Unfortunately, it could never be so easy.

It didn't take long for you to start sobbing, the original feeling of shock and fear subsiding into anxiety and sadness. Jay has you wrapped in his arms as you shake, everyone has seated themselves down apart from Jake, who aggressively wanders around the room.

"Jaeyun, stand still. You're just making her feel even worse shuffling around the room like that." Heeseung glares at his younger brother, standing up from his seat to walk towards him.

"Yeah? Well what else am I supposed to do? I don't know what the fuck to do!" Jake shouts, not so loud, yet it still makes you jump enough that Jay holds you ever so slightly tighter. Looking over, Jake and Heeseung are standing face to face.

"Stop shouting at me and get your goddamn act together, she needs us, she needs you. You want to help her? Then we need to talk and figure out where we go from here." Heeseung snarls at Jake, who lets out a frustrated groan and nods his head.

This was the first time you had seen them truly upset with each other. It's due to one of your own problems too, which makes you feel entirely responsible even if you hadn't intended to.

"I have to leave."

All of their eyes divert to your direction, even Jay draws back from you a little. They all share the same expression, one you can't quite read in detail, but they are shocked by your statement.

"What? No, no, where on earth would you go? We can figure this out. Don't go until you're ready to move on." Sunghoon states, his thick eyebrows beginning to furrow in concern.

"If I'm not gone by the time they get back, I'm not sure what they would do to you all if they knew I was here. I could never put you all at risky like that- and I would dread to think about the things they would do to me too."

"Are you sure?" Jungwon mumbles begrudgingly, frowning at the thought of you leaving them all. He had grown closest to you, other than Jake, and even though he would never admit it to anyone, he had grown rather attached to your presence.

Simply, you nod your head and hold your bottom lip between your teeth to attempt to avoid any more tears. Sunghoon was right to make a comment on you being ready, because you were far from so.

"I'll come with you." Jake's voice causes you to look at him again, eyes wide and lost. He appears so sure of himself, "I'll get you somewhere far enough that's safe. I can't stay with you, but I can offer as much help as possible. None of us want you out alone."

After a serious talk, heartbreaking goodbyes and reassurance that you will always have a place to be, you and Jake are on your way. He reminds you of another cottage not so long away that the two of you can stop at for the night, similarly to when you had first met.

Jake had been carrying a leather, worn-down rucksack that was filled with miscellaneous items that would keep you going and had been profusely refusing your offers to carry it for a little to give him a break.

There's a constant guilt riding through your body with every moment, and Jake is able to tell, he seems to know you well enough now. He spends his time telling you stories of his youth, his current years, his brothers; beautiful moments to tell you that this is momentary, and all will be well soon enough.

An hour or two walk leads you to the cottage, and it's far from pretty. In fact, you think some of the roof is missing and some of the windows are smashed up. Not the ideal place to stay, but it'll work for now.

"Here, take this, you're freezing." He offers up his jacket, more so forcing it into your hands. He's cold too, but he'd rather be the one to get sick.

"Why are there so many abandoned cottages around here? It's such a waste..." You question after sitting down at a wooden desk chair, your legs recovering from the long walk.

"People like to move around, they'll just up and leave, go to the next town or whatever it is they're doing. Their old homes just get forgotten about, I guess." He shrugs, he's used to them being around, while you were thinking about how lovely it would be to renovate.

It wasn't difficult for you to fall asleep, so exhausted that all it took was closing your eyes.

You never had nightmares; not until tonight.

Everyone you had come to know was there, complaining about how you were an awful friend, daughter, partner, princess. Hearing sharp words from your family was something you had become desensitised to, but Julia and Jake broke your heart.

Jake sees you shuffling in your sleep, making small noises, a concerned expression across your face. He pouts from where he sits, gathering that you were having a bad dream.

Quietly, he makes his way over to you and sits on the opposite side of the bed. He finds himself studying your sleepy face, you were always bright and ignoring a few minor occasions, he never really saw you upset.

He leans forward and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, he ponders whether he should wake you up, but you're faster than him, shooting up as you frantically look around the room.

"Hey, woah! Breathe princess, you're okay, you're safe." Jake speaks so softly that the tension in your body dissipates immediately, your hand wraps around his for additional comfort and you look him in the eyes.

It feels right.

Jake's free hand moved upwards to rest on your cheek, you nuzzle into his hand happily and close your eyes. A few seconds pass, you decide to look back at Jake, who you hope is feeling just as you do.

When his thumb faintly rubs against your bottom lip, it was as if the subconscious block that had been holding you back snaps. Neither of you are sure who leaned in first, but it didn't matter.

His lips slot perfectly on yours; just like his hands, his arms, every fibre of his being. You feel slightly hesitant due to your lack in experience, though the softness of how Jake holds you tells you everything will be just fine.

He caresses your waist line as his tongue slips into your mouth, and you're sure you could kiss Jake's lips forever. In comparison, you’re gripping onto Jake for dear life, taking an awfully deep breath when you part from each other.

“I’m always going to keep you safe, you and the boys, you are my life. I’ll protect you even if it kills me.” He whispers against your lips, and a stray tear slips down your cheek as you both stay with each other, forgetting about your problems just for a moment.

You hadn't been to another town before since you were a small child, being isolated away from others for such a long time. It's so lively and full of happy people, it makes you think about how quiet it had been at your old home as everyone in town had generally kept to themselves.

"Anywhere you want to go?" Jake asks, his hand still gripping yours tightly. Neither of you decided to mention the previous night, but you both have refused to let go of each other since you fell asleep, and Jake was feeling nauseated at the thought of you getting lost.

You had to admit to being anxious; there was always the chance that someone would recognise you even if they hadn't seen you since you were much younger. Not everyone was a good person, you would end up back at square one.

"I think I'd like to go to the lake, the old lady in the bakery really sold it for me." You hold up the bag that was filled with bread and sweet treats (you had to convince Jake not to steal any of them because the lady was so kind and you had enough money), "It's getting a little late, so I wouldn't mind going to the lake for a little while and then going to the inn."

The sky is filled with vibrant variations of pinks, oranges and yellows as the sun begins to set. It shines beautifully onto the lake as you and Jake walk along the path, content as you both munch on bread and laugh with each other.

Time passes so fast that you don't even realise how long you have been wandering around for, the dark skies soon tiring you out. Your eyes feel heavy, so you suggest going to the inn.

"You are a lovely couple, how long have you been together?" The woman behind the counter asks, grinning at your closeness as she takes the money from Jake's hands.

"Our whole lives, miss." Jake says, as if it has been a normal everyday saying. Of course, you become embarrassed and hide behind Jake's arm and the elderly woman coos at you as she passes along the key.

The air feels strange once you and Jake are laid in the bed together. Even though you are so far apart from one another, it's like the heat of his body is still reflecting onto yours. Whatever you feel in your body, you know it is unfamiliar to you.

You bite your bottom lip in hesitance. Taking a deep breath, you turn around to face Jake. To your surprise, he had already been facing you with his eyes open, watching you.

"You can't sleep either?" He asks, his voice becoming raspy from the lack of speaking. Even though the room is so dark, he manages to look just as gorgeous as usual, even with such tired eyes.

"I'm thinking." You reply quietly, Jake nudges further so that he is closer to you.

"What are you thinking about?" He takes his hand, moving a stray hair behind your ear, hand now resting softly on your cheek.

When you don't answer, Jake's hand is quick to travel to the back of your head as he slams his own lips against yours. Your own hand makes its way into his hair, tugging lightly as your body shakes in anticipation when he lets out a low groan against you.

You clamber onto his lap, wanting to feel as close to him as was humanly possible. The emotions and hormones running through your body became so overwhelming that you could only let out whiny whimpers on his mouth.

His hand moves between your thighs, playing with your little clit in excitement, allowing you to grind against his veiny hand. He messes with you through your underwear, soon moving it to the side with a long groan. A long string of saliva links the two of you, Jake's jaw dropping as he looks at you.

"Didn't take you long to get so wet, you wanted me for that long, honey?" His voice drops octaves, his irises filled with a concept you could hardly comprehend; but you have never felt so much pleasure, "Can't believe I waited this long to see how pretty you look withering on top of me."

"Jake!" You grip at his arm, nails practically digging into his skin, hips moving faster and faster as you feel the intense butterflies in your stomach. Tears brim your eyes as you experience the new feeling, almost bursting as your slick covers Jake's hand.

He can barely take in the situation himself. He's hardly done anything and your eyes are already welling up and he just knows drool is going to start dripping from your swollen lips soon enough. Jake pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean.

"Off, too hot. Yours too." You start to pull at Jake's shirt, he rips your nightgown from your body, leaving you with the thin material of your underwear. Before you could think, his arm wrapped around your back to pull you into him, taking your left breast into his mouth.

His other hand reaches to wrap perfectly around the other, harshly nipping to get a squeal out of you, he slots himself comfortably between your legs, pressing you against his hardening cock. The man underneath you bites his lip hard, lifting up his hips into your core.

"Fuck, fuck baby, just like that." His eyes and hands are still concentrated on your chest, completely hypnotised by their feel and appearance. Jake is absolutely enamoured, and you're already cock-drunk before he's even gotten inside of you.

But it still just isn't enough.

When you lift yourself up and reach down to palm his length through his pants, Jake is sure his eyes roll to the back of his head. He could feel

the fire emits from you, from inside you, from every touch you gifted to his body. You're so desperate, and he's ready to give you anything you desire.

"Can I..." You whimper out, reaching over to the low waistband of his pants. Looking at your face, Jake doesn't want to rip his eyes away. Your own eyes are blown out and your pretty skin is begin to sweat, your hair managing to fall flawlessly in place like you weren't jumping his bones.

"You can do anything you want to me, baby. I'm all yours." He whispers into your ear, nibbling slightly at the lobe. Swiftly, you finally pull at his pants and he lifts up so that you can remove them completely.

It stands tall, wet and red, you can't help but wrap your hands around it. However, not wanting to make a mistake, you give him your best doe eyes to ask for help.

"It's okay, princess. Just move your hand up and down, just like that- fuck." You move your hand up and down slowly, keeping eye contact with Jake, whose eyes are beginning to close from the building pleasure, "Such a good girl f’me.”

Suddenly, you're sliding yourself down his body, your face against his chest as your back arches deliciously. Your tongue lands directly on the slit of his tip, Jake moans loudly and grips onto your hair.

He tried his best not to buck his hips upwards, though he gets even more turned on at your inherent skill to take him in your mouth with ease, the tiny tears in your eyes only make him even more feral.

Your smaller hands are moving nicely on his cock along with your gummy mouth and just the sight of you has him on the edge; a lethal combination. Not wanting to let go just yet, he gently lifts you from him with a dazed smile at your sudden concerned face.

"It's okay, baby- you're doing so, so well for me. Just want us to be able to cum at the same time, hm?" He's quick to model you into the position he wants, you on your back facing him, legs over his shoulders so he can see your fucked out, cute face, ��Tell me when you want me to move, okay?”

Then, he pushes himself into you.

You expected it to sting at first, your nails digging and scratching against Jake who just takes it. He waits, albeit the ache he feels in his stomach, until you give him the green light to start moving.

"Go, please." You squeak out, and he does as his lady requests. Still hurting ever so slightly, but with every move comes a larger wave of pleasure. He's almost sure he'll have to slap a hand over your mouth or kiss you so you don't get kicked out, "Oh my god!"

"So fucking tight. My pretty girl, all this for me." Jake stutters out against your neck, sucking at it while your hand rummage around his body, his hair, dragging your nails against his back as he ravages you.

Embarrassment fills you as Jake examines your face and body below him. You try to turn your head, but he immediately raises his hand to grab you by the chin and force you to look back, then his hand makes its way right around your throat in a light choke, "Look at me, honey."

It’s such an intimate moment, both of you finally together as one, only seeing each other and nothing else in the world. He’s holding your cheek while his other hand wraps around your throat and you’re all other the place.

You reach your peak, convulsing so hard and desperate. Jake’s eyebrows furrow harder, hips faltering as he climaxes too, you feel the spurts fill you to the brim, close to bringing another orgasm out of you.

Ears ringing, he lies on top of you though trying his best not to put all of his weight down on your current fragile body. He strokes the top of your head, and you ask him to stay inside of you until you fall asleep.

The alarm of the bright sun shining through the sheer white curtains has you waking up as soon as it hits your skin. You grab the sheets and hike them up your body, still naked after immediately passing out last night. However, it seems like Jake had cleaned you up before you awoke, no longer covered in sweat and cum.

Eyes closing again, you turn your body around and feel onto the other side of the bed for your lover, but only gripping onto empty sheets. You furrow your eyebrows and pout your lips, sitting up and looking around the room.

There is light sparkling from the gap under the bathroom door, you make the assumption he mist be in there, "Jaeyun? Are you in the bathroom?"

After a second or two, the door opens and there stands a half naked Jake, his lean torso and shoulders on full display for you. He grins as his eyes scan down your bare body, spending significantly more time on your tits.

"Now what a lovely sight this is first thing in the morning." He laughs, pressing soft kisses along the dark splotches on your neck. You roll your eyes with a smile, pushing him away a little so you could pick up your day clothing to get changed, "You could just stay like that for a few more hours, I'm not complaining."

"You're suddenly so perverted, have you been hiding this from me the whole time?" You ask jokingly, leaning against the doorway in all your naked glory. He looks at you like he has never seen anything as perfect, how he just can’t look away from you; the glint in them somehow tells you that it isn’t just lust in his eyes.

He doesn’t answer, shaking his head with a bite of his lip. Closing the bathroom door, you look at yourself in the mirror while you change, noticing the new glow in your skin — you’re sure there is a myriad of reasons why.

There’s a knock on the door to the room. strange, you think, but you imagine it may be someone complaining about the loud noises and squeaks throughout the night, so you finish putting your shirt on.

As your hand lands on the handle, Jake shouts.

“Get your fucking hands off me! She isn’t in here you, assholes! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” He’s angry at whoever was at the door, the mention of a she makes you shake and back away from the door.

You search for a window, anywhere that could get you out — but the thought of leaving Jake out there broke your heart and you would rather get hurt helping him than leaving all alone.

Before you can even come down to a decision between your two options, the bathroom door bursts open, wooden panels and metal flying around the room. You could recognise the clanky soldier attire of your family anywhere, them staring you down with violent glares.

Having nowhere to go, Jake nowhere in sight, your only option is to follow their instructions.

Standing before your parents, hands handcuffed behind your back, may have been the strangest occurrence you had the glory of experiencing in your life. Their angry faces dawned on you that you had royally fucked up and should have thought about being more sneaky instead of trying to live out your romance dreams.

"You are a disgrace to this family." Your mother spits at you, staring right into your eyes with pure disgust, no remorse for what she had done to you your whole life.

"I'm the disgrace? You tried to force your only daughter into a whole marriage with a man she couldn't stand to be around. You never cared about me, I'm only here to carry on your shitty legacy." You watch as your father's lips press into a thin line at your words, his hands rub at the bridge of his nose.

"You're completely delusional. The marriage will go on and that awful man you had stuck yourself to will be hanged for his crimes." His words are like poison venom, your knees bucking in shock.

Jake would be hanged because you had feelings for him, those were the crimes in your family's mind; their biggest fear as they locked you into a marriage destined to be because it was uncontaminated by a non-royal.

"What- no, no, no! Please, please let him go. I'll marry Beomgyu, I'll do anything, just please don't hurt him. He has a family, he did nothing wrong." You beg hard, almost wanting to drop to your knees with praying hands so they would listen to your requests just this singular time.

"We can't let a man of his kind go, they'll simply have to suffer." She dusts off her hands, standing up from her undeserved throne, "Don't think we forgot about how Julia betrayed us too."

"You're all fucking sick, you're sick in the head!" You scream at the top of your lungs, throat burning and your vision becoming unclear as you are dragged away back to your bedroom.

You spend your next few days with puffy eyes, overthinking every moment. It had been the day of your marriage, a day that you would remember forever but for the wrong reasons. Julia and Jake had still been alive since your torturous parents thought it would be a splendid idea for them to watch.

"You look gorgeous, I'm sorry that this day is not going as you desire, I wish this could be much different." Julia's mother had been the woman to adjust your dress. It was easy to see the sadness and distress in her eyes and you could barely imagine how she must be feeling in the moment.

"Thank you. I'm sorry about Julia." You wince as she tightens the corset.

"There isn't much I can do about that anymore. I tried my best, and it only seemed to make things worse." She comes around to your front, smiling so bittersweetly that it hurts you.

No matter how beautiful the reception is, it just appears revolting to you. Especially when you see Beomgyu waiting at the alter for you, everyone smiling at you like you should be happy and Jake and Julia sat right at the front, handcuffed up with guards on either side of them.

Your father holds on to your arm as you walk down the aisle and it makes you want to throw up on the expensive carpet. When you reach the front, you're practically pushed into Beomgyu's arms and the audience, since it's for show, laughs.

You look at Jake and Julia, them both sharing the same facial expression as you had. Seeing Jake in this light broke your heart and if you weren't in such an awful predicament, you would have ran to him.

"Any objections?" The priests asks before he begins and you have to peel your eyes away from Jake who looks like he hasn't slept in days and is on the verge of tears.

"I object!" Everyone's head turns in awe at the disturbance. You have to rub your eyes to make sure you're seeing things correctly because Riki is standing up on top of one of the further back pews, "I think this place has some decoration."

A sizzling sound is heard from the corner of the building; then the whole left side releases a large explosion that causes the building to begin to fall. With no thought, you start to run towards the exit, alerting Jake and Julia to join you, ripping your dress in the process.

Beomgyu latches onto your arm.

"Let go of me. They’re all I have left." You attempt to say sternly, but your voice trembles as you look between him and the exit. This was your last chance and he was trying to take it away from you. You’re struggling to drag yourself away from him- but he just releases you and turns to leave himself.

Jake, Julia and Riki, even Jay who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, follow suit.

"What the fuck! Where the hell did you get explosives from you psychos!" Jake shouts with an energetic laugh, still running with his hands cuffed — you would have to figure out how to get him out of those once you were all safe.

"I don't know! Sunghoon said he knew some people!" Jay responds, chuckling back at his brother.

You're back at your real home in no time, but you know you'll have to do something about the corrupted royals at some point in time. They could have easily recognised Riki and come back for a less peaceful visit.

"How did you know what was happening?" Julia interrogates the boys, rubbing her wrists to relieve them of the pain from being locked in cuffs for so long.

"They have a weird habit of releasing all information to the public. Heeseung had a feeling that something was wrong and made a visit, luckily was the same day they announced you and had Jake hostage.” Sunoo shrugs, “Sunghoon came back with explosives and still won’t tell us where he got them from.”

"Well, what do we do now?" Jake asks, his arms still holding you protectively. Everyone stays silent, but you know you’ll figure it out together.

Years pass and they never bother you again and you would all laugh that Sunghoon’s mystery explosives must have really made them jump.

Most of the boys had moved on with their lives; Jake found Heeseung and Julia making out in the kitchen one day after a hidden relationship, then the two of them moved out into a new town a little while later to start a family. Jay and Sunghoon found well-paying jobs on travels and would come to visit every moment they could.

The three younger boys stayed back, while you and Jake built up the cottage where you revealed your love for one another to live your own lives.

You smile widely as you examine your growing belly with the new life growing inside of it, Jake watches you lovingly from his desk chair where he writes up his notes for work.

His baby, his pretty girl; you who once stood as royalty lived a simply happy life and Jake finding what he was looking for in the end.

I’d say that deserves a happily ever after.

taglist ; @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whiskrv @mixtapejimin @zyvlxqht @saintriots @yohanabanana @jentlecoeur @belowbun @meujaeyun @capri-cuntz @greyminyoon1 @river-demon-slayer

637 notes · View notes

emissaire · 1 month

Text

is it hot in here? - jjk men x reader (part i)

based off of these headcanons i wrote almost 3 years ago lmao

warnings/tags: crack, fluff, mature language, housemates! geto, gojo, nanami, choso & sukuna, neighbor! toji, implied reverse harem, mature language, mushy nicknames given to the reader because i absolutely refuse to use “y/n” lmao, a slight slice of life ig, half of em have beef w/ little megumi, nanami is the only normal person in the house, talks abt food // wc: 3.5k // lmk if i missed anything!

It's hard being a college student, barely thriving in an environment filled with stressful deadlines you need to meet, sleepless nights just to maintain your GPA, things that need to be done each week and to top it all off, working as a bookstore clerk in your free time to help shoulder a bit of your student loans and everyday expenses. To say it simply, life is hectic. The odds seemed to be stacked against you as things appear to be getting even worse when you received an eviction notice from your landlord, giving you just a week to find a new place to stay.

On day five, you were fortunate enough to find an affordable and decent place that is a 20-minute drive away from your university. Though you find it a little suspicious since the rent is fairly cheap and it isn’t exactly an apartment complex but a house shared by five other people, you decided, screw it. You're desperate, certainly you don't want to be homeless? Besides, the place is neat and plenty huge. What's there to complain about?

Thursday morning, after a few back-and-forth texts with your manager at the book shop, begging him to let you off, you managed to haul most of your things to your new place with the help of your ever-gracious friend, Aoi. By the time you manage to get all of your things in your designated room, the other occupants are still nowhere in sight. You feel somehow comforted by that fact, still bothered by feeling like an intruder.

Weariness slowly seeps into your bones and without much fight, you let sleep consume you, laying down on the barely set-up bed in the middle of your disorganized space without any heed to the mess of boxes littered on the floor and the wide opened door of your bedroom.

It's eerily quiet. Kento notes as he pushes the front door open with a sturdy hand, Choso and Suguru in tow. They're all exhausted from the chaotic buzz of the outside world, their shoulders finally loosening in relaxation at the familiar interior of their shared home.

"Oh— our new housemate should be here by now, correct?" Suguru breaks the silence, eyeing the place in search of a new face although he's only met by empty and unknowing stares. There is no sound of boxes being moved around, not even thuds of feet against the floorboards to indicate someone’s presence in the house aside from theirs.

"Maybe they postponed the move?" Choso offers, barely caring about his friend's concern as he struts to his own room so he can finally rest. Though his footsteps halt as soon as his eyes catch the sight of the supposed empty room— oh, someone's here.

"In here." He calls to the other two and within seconds, three pairs of eyes are prying into your room, one judgingly and two out of amusement.

"It's a girl." Kento speaks, eyes sweeping the entire space with both concern and a hint of astonishment at the cluttered boxes. How can she sleep with all that mess?

"Indeed." Suguru's face is embellished with a smile that he fails to contain. Choso could only elbow him in a scolding manner. The former, seemingly taking after a certain white-haired man's antics, dramatically howls and falls forward, slumping against his blond friend's back while he clutches his side.

"Get off!" Kento chides, shrugging the other male off of him.

You have always been a light sleeper, even the tiniest sound could wake you up from a good slumber. It's no wonder you're getting roused out of sleep by the ruckus made by the three individuals standing just outside of your bedroom door. It takes you a minute to realize though, blinking at them in confusion before scrambling up to your feet to greet them in your haze.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry for the mess! I'm the new tenant, it's so nice to meet you guys, finally!" You bow your head a bit in greeting, flashing the three a sheepish smile.

"It's no problem. You've only arrived, the mess is inevitable." The long-haired man says kindly, his eyes crinkled as he offers you a charming smile. "I'm Suguru, by the way. This is Kento," he gestures to the blond man who is already looking at you, a small yet amiable smile on his face too, "and Choso." Said man makes a saluting gesture to greet you.

You quickly introduce yourself, albeit a little timid. Being in the presence of three good looking men sure would make anyone almost melt on sight.

"Do you need help with unpacking?" Choso offers gently, the three of them waiting for your answer. Though you quickly turn it down politely, not wanting to be a bother on your first day here. Besides, the three of them probably have things to do, like resting. Kento stifles a yawn while Suguru’s eyes look sluggish while he leans on the equally tired-looking Choso.

"Well, okay. If you need any assistance, you can call us. Choso's room is right beside yours, mine and Suguru's are upstairs." Kento tells you and there's something about the way he sounds so caring despite only meeting you that makes you heat up and giddy.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, guys." With that, they leave you to your own devices so you can start unpacking and cleaning up.

It takes about an hour or two of silence before a tall figure blocks your door, 6 or something feet tall hovering in your room like a nosy child. "Hey there!"

"Hello?" You greet him back despite the confusion, watching him step over unopened boxes and check the things you've managed to set up in your room. He reminds you of a curious dog, sniffing around the space in interest.

Once he deems it enough snooping, the man strides over to you, looming over your frame as he looks at you through the sunglasses perched perfectly atop his nose bridge. "Satoru. It's nice to finally meet you." He says your name after his greeting and you look at him questioningly.

"Ahh, Suguru texted me about you." His stark white hair is distracting as you look up to meet his eyes and you can only nod in response.

"Get back here, you lunkhead!" A deep, agitated voice echoes in your room, coming from another tall (and another good-looking) man, stepping into your space, seemingly after someone though he immediately stops once he spots you in front of Satoru.

Sukuna's eyes flit along your body from head to toe before he acknowledges you with a friendly wave though the suggestive smile he has is anything but. He introduces himself with confidence, standing big and almost imposing despite being a head shorter than Satoru.

What is up with your housemates being obnoxiously attractive?

7 months. It took you 7 long months to get used to the presence of your housemates without getting all jumpy. Sure, you still get flustered when Choso pats your head so affectionately every time you thank him for buying snacks for you; you stutter when Suguru teases you about your bedhead with a pinch to your cheeks; you start rambling when Kento asks you about your day and he only smiles and listens to you; you feel all hot and bothered when Satoru presses himself up against you when you cook or even when Sukuna parades himself around the house half-naked like it's no one's business, but hey, it's still progress!

"Hey, earth to, darling!" Suguru waves a hand in front of your face once he notices you've been staring into the distance in the middle of your conversation.

"Huh? Sorry, what was it again?" You're certain that the tips of your ears are red from getting caught spacing off again. You don't want him to get the wrong idea and assume that you find him boring— as a matter of fact, he is far from boring.

Geto Suguru is nowhere near bland and basic. Him and his inky, long, black hair that cascades along his back so beautifully you're almost jealous of it. Suguru, with the way he's always so gentle with you despite his tendencies of being playful. It's all in good fun but he never takes it too far as to hurt you. Sometimes you can even share a good back-and-forth conversation about just anything and nothing, like you’re supposed to be doing now, if he's not out being stupid with Satoru. It's just that recently, you find yourself daydreaming about your roommates at the most inappropriate times of the day.

The latter only laughs, nudging your cheek with his knuckle affectionately before he shakes his head. "Forget about it. Let's just bother Choso to cook for us. What do you say?" You're certain that you and Suguru are going to be yelled at but you indulge him anyway.

Choso was distant during your first few months in the house, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by being all up in your space like two of his friends were (are? since it's an occurrence that is still happening at present time), namely Satoru and Sukuna. He's warmed up to you now, bringing you snacks that you mention to him in passing every time he gets back from university. He's so attentive and caring in his own way and you appreciate all that he is. A wonderful man with such a wonderful face, you could stare at him and admire the horizontal tattoo across his face all day.

"No, I'm not gonna cook for you. Bother someone else." You were halfway down the hall when Choso steps out of his room with a disapproving frown. You swear, he's got some weird telepathic sense.

"How'd you know? Dude." Suguru mutters, scratching the back of his neck in a sheepish manner before backtracking to the kitchen with his hands placed on your shoulders as you walk in front of him.

"Let's just order takeout or something." You suggest once you've made it back, hopping on the stool and leaning forward against the countertop. Suguru settles beside you, one of his arms is around your shoulders now, his other hand blindly fishing for his phone inside the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Chinese!” Satoru throws in his suggestion once he enters the kitchen, heading straight towards the fridge to grab himself another sweet treat— it’s his sixth one today. You wonder how he maintains his pearly white teeth. As far as you know he has never experienced a toothache in his entire life.

“Want some this time, pretty? Sugu?” Satoru offers, looking over his shoulder to see you and his best friend with a bright smile. The thing about Satoru, no matter how insufferable he and his sweet addiction can get, he’s always thoughtful in his own way. He likes to share things that he has, whether it’s as insignificant as a pen to his favorite mochi from an expensive brand. You figured it’s innate to him with how he was brought up with a silver spoon in his mouth— not having to think about the consequence of spending or losing material things since he can always get a replacement, and better. In a way, Suguru took part in humbling the Gojo heir but it’s really just Satoru through and through: annoying with no financial sense, but sweet nonetheless.

“Nooo, we had Chinese food the other day! And another no, thank you.” You huff, eyes scanning the food delivery app displayed in Suguru’s phone.

“I want something greasy.” The latter mutters, clicking on an infamous fast food logo, ignoring his best friend’s quips about his unhealthy obsession with oily chickens, undercooked potatoes and bland-tasting burgers. It sounds rich coming from him, considering he’s the one gobbling up an entire box of macarons from a shop with a foreign name.

“You three are so fucking noisy.” Leave it to Sukuna to make such bold entrances with his deep voice and colorful vocabulary.

“Lovely of you to join us. Tell these two to order Chinese food right now!” Satoru sounds so overjoyed, thinking he found himself a comrade in Sukuna but the latter only scrunches his face in irritation.

“Don’t tell me what to do, punk. I’ll beat you up.”

“Okay. Let’s just have pasta instead.” You decide to step in, knowing that Sukuna’s provocation will lead to an endless bickering with Satoru refusing to back down and Suguru being dragged into their childish argument. It’s an almost everyday thing and at first, you found it amusing but now you’re just tired of it.

Sukuna looks and acts like a brute most of the time. He speaks with this certain edge in his tone and it doesn’t help that he lacks the ability to filter his words. You were most intimidated by him before you got to know him better, what with all his tattoos and deep voice (though you’re not denying that it suits his bad boy charisma). You didn’t expect him either to look after you when you got sick on your fourth week living with them, of all people. He was like a mother hen yapping his head off about how you need to go easy on yourself, to get as much sleep as you need while feeding you— he’s a real big softie behind his sharp tongue and I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-you persona.

“Kento! You just got home?” Suguru’s question makes you look towards the blond male’s direction just outside of the kitchen’s entryway. This makes the two idiots stop bickering as well, choosing to focus on Kento instead.

“Yeah. I was at Yu’s house the whole day.” Kento answers simply before frowning at the sight of you guys crowding the kitchen. “Don’t tell me you can’t decide what to have for dinner again.” He added, now making his way towards you with a roll of his eyes, carrying bags of what seems to be…food? Oh, thank the heavens!

“Is that Chinese?” Satoru ignores the previous question, opting to take some of the bags from the younger male and place it on the counter in front of you and Suguru.

“It’s not. Mrs. Haibara made them.” Kento sighs, placing the rest of the bags beside the others.

“So, Japanese?” You supply, digging through one of the bags to see for yourself.

“Why does it matter? It’s food.” Sukuna rolls his eyes before yelling at Choso to come join you in the kitchen so all of you can eat together.

“I didn’t even say you could have them.” The blond says out of indignation though he doesn’t do anything to stop Satoru from stabbing one slice of the chicken katsu from the container with a chopstick which makes Suguru slap his hand and scold him.

“Thank you, Ken. Come sit with me, let’s eat.” You pat the other stool beside you, promptly kicking Sukuna’s ass (literally) away when he attempts to occupy it.

“Wench.” The tattooed man mumbles, rubbing his behind as he settles beside Satoru across the three of you. You don’t say anything back, deciding to assist Kento with his own food out of courtesy and gratitude for his timely intervention. It wasn't worth it to stir up another childish bickering over food, and you'd rather keep the peace.

“I already ate but thanks, sweetheart.” Kento murmurs next to you, watching as you fret over him with a fond smile. The thing about Kento is that despite being a man of few words, he’s loud in other aspects that shows how much he cares. Like the way he always remembers his “annoying” housemates and brings back food because he knows that none of you, except Choso and Suguru, are responsible enough to make healthy food on your own. He may not say it outrightly but he gets quite worried about all of you all the time, and as much as he hates to admit it, he’s taken the responsibility of parenting grown adults even if it takes a toll on him sometimes. He doesn’t mind it as much now as he used to, knowing you’re there to watch out for him in return.

“You all deaf or somethin’? Someone’s been knocking at the door for a while now!” Choso complains as he passes by the kitchen, trudging towards the front door with a scowl as his stomach grumbles in hunger.

The door is opened to reveal your next door neighbor’s kid, Megumi, looking wary and a little upset that it was Choso who opened the door for him. “Is Miss Sunshine here?”

The older man’s brows furrowed in confusion, trying to decipher who “Miss Sunshine” is before the familiarity of the nickname hits him, making him squint his eyes down at the kid. “That’s not her name.”

“Dad calls her that.” Megumi simply responds, frowning back at Choso.

Before the latter could say anything else though, your voice rings through the house as you ask Choso who was at the door. Your figure comes into view soon after, wanting to see who's holding your housemate back from his much desired dinner.

“Miss Sunshine!” You hear the cheerful voice of Megumi which makes you run to the front door with an excited smile.

“Megs! What are you doing here? Everything okay? Where’s your dad?” You crouch down to meet the boy’s eyes, shooing Choso away who you hear grumble under his breath about "brats" and "stealing attention” as he walks away but you choose to ignore him. He's still probably salty about the incident that involves his precious little cousin, Yuuji, who only wanted to play with the other boy when he visited rather than pay attention to his ever-longing “Choso nii-san”.

“Dad said he has to go to work. Can I stay with you until he comes back?” The boy asks, hopeful and big, doe eyes staring at you almost pleadingly— not that he needs to anyway.

Megumi is a sweet boy, raised by his father right even though sometimes, Toji makes questionable decisions like leaving his son alone at night without as much as a heads up to another responsible adult to look after the boy— like you. Not that you’re saying Toji needs to tell you about his whereabouts or whatever, but you’ve been Megumi’s babysitter since you’ve befriended his father. Even though he seems pretty independent, you still can't help but worry about him. After all, he is still a young kid and could easily get into trouble by himself. It would worry you greatly if you were to find out that he was hurt or worse while his father is away.

“Of course, baby. Come on in. Did you have anything for dinner yet?” You usher the boy inside, leading him to the kitchen where the others are. They immediately stop talking once they spot Megumi with you, hiding behind your figure with an inconspicuous glare directed at all of them.

“MEGUMI!” Satoru is the first to break the silence by yelling the boy’s name in glee and jumping off his seat to welcome your little visitor. Said visitor hurries to shield himself more behind you, clutching at your shirt as if it would save him from the impending doom that is Satoru. Megumi, on multiple occasions, has shown his dislike for the older man.

“Don’t bombard spiky urchin over there.” Suguru mumbles uncaringly, more focused on the food he’s currently eating. The nickname he and the others have picked for Megumi makes you roll your eyes, and you don’t miss the slight whine from the little boy behind you. He loathes that nickname so much.

“Come eat with us, Megumi.” Kento waves for the latter to join him and the rest, getting off his chair to give it to the boy.

“I already did. Thanks though.” Megumi sends the blond man a tiny smile, seemingly the only person he’s okay being around with. Out of all the men within the vicinity, Kento seems to be the only one who acts completely normal with the boy, aside from Suguru who mostly doesn’t care but sometimes joins in on the teasing with Satoru. Sukuna, on the other hand, tries to terrorize the little man whenever he can but his lighthearted intimidation seems to never work because Megumi doesn’t really care enough to pay attention to him— or to any of your housemates aside from Kento occasionally.

“Where’s your father, boy?” Sukuna asks, briefly looking up from the rectangular plastic container full of sushi he's hogged from the rest.

“Work.” Megumi plainly responds, not even bothering to look at the older guy but you can clearly see the annoyance gleaming on the boy’s face.

Oh. This is going to be a long night.

559 notes · View notes

welcometomyoasis · 2 months

Text

Beach house holiday with seventeen

Synopsis: How seventeen would spend their holiday at a beach house with you, their s/o. Svt x gn! reader | fluff, est. relationship | 1.1k words | warnings: one mention of heat exhaustion, water, food, slightly suggestive, slight possessive behaviour | requested by anon A/n: i’m actually really stressed rn. Yes, this is me projecting especially on the 95 line

Preamble: After months of busy work schedules, you and your boyfriend agree to take a vacation together. To your surprise, your boyfriend insists on planning the vacation. When you arrive at your destination, you see that he has booked you both a holiday at a…

𓇼𖦹 Beach house located within an all inclusive luxury resort

Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Joshua, Mingyu

⛱ He wants to spoil you rotten. You’ve been such a supportive partner during all these months when he’s been working. No matter how tired you are, you always put his needs first. So, you better believe he’s whipping out all the stops for your vacation this time.

⛱ Luxury flights, luxury room (actually no, he booked you both a private villa with your own private pool), luxury clothes, luxury couples spa treatments, fancy dates at famous restaurants. He’s going to whisk you around to make sure you feel all pampered and loved. Although you have your own private butler service, he will personally wait on you hand and foot. Sure, it’s his vacation too, but he takes great pride and pleasure in being able to repay you for all you’ve done for him. Besides, he knows you’ll make sure he feels just as relaxed as you are.

⛱ Obviously, you do enjoy what the resort has to offer like the all-inclusive water sport activities, cocktail hour at the lounge. But for a good portion of the time you’re there, you both spend the time in the room relaxing. That’s why there is a private pool. No, it’s definitely not because he’s possessive and doesn’t want other people to admire you at the shared pool or the beach. Kisses while having a bubble bath in the tub big enough for two, picnics with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries on the deck overlooking the gorgeous view of the ocean. Cuddles in that little hammock tucked near the trees. Sunbathing on the beach right outside your room. Room service at all hours of the day where you can eat in the privacy of your room wearing only your bathrobes. You’re both going to savour each and every moment spent together.

⛱ He promises to take you somewhere even more extravagant for your honeymoon. Wait, what do you mean that all this is too expensive and too much? Nonsense, he’s waving away your worries with his hand. It’s all paid for and it’s not like he can’t afford it. Let him spoil you and don’t worry your pretty little head over these trivial matters.

𓇼𖦹 Secluded beach house with its own private beach

Wonwoo, Woozi, Minghao, Vernon

⛱ It’s a vacation. You’re supposed to be able to get away from the hustle and bustle of daily life. You’re not necessarily going completely unplugged (please only Minghao would survive that), but it’s his way of getting you both to disconnect from the rat race, and his way of helping you both to reconnect with each other.

⛱ Honestly, it took him a while to find this beach house, though once he did, he knew it would be the perfect place to take you. It was secluded enough that no one else would disturb you. The house was equipped with great facilities. There was a kitchen, a large bedroom for breakfast in bed. That then connected to the bathroom with an outdoor shower and bathtub/ jacuzzi area. There was a big lounging area where you could waste the day away cuddling and watching movies. The view was spectacular. During your vacation, you would wake up snuggled against your boyfriend to the sound of the waves and the view of the sun peaking out from the horizon. Interestingly, morning soaks in the outdoor bath turned into lazy beach days filled with all the kisses and cuddles you could possibly want. The plans for hiking during the day or exploring the area around the house were all soon forgotten.

⛱ And the best part of all? It was a private beach. You wouldn’t need to share or fight for the space. No rowdy tourists, no one screaming, no stray beach balls. It was just the two of you. Also, because it was just the two of you, you could admire each other and soak in each other’s presence without being disturbed. Every single little gaze, each touch, each flattering comment, it was like you were rekindling the spark that you had from the early days of your relationship (not that it ever went out to begin with). By the end of the holiday, let’s just say you both were thoroughly tuckered out, very happy, very relaxed and very giddy from spending a lot of time with each other.

𓇼𖦹 Beach house located not too far from the city and the beach

Junhui, Soonyoung, Dokyeom, Seungkwan, Dino

⛱ To him, a beach house holiday is always fun. There’s so much to do at the beach like frolicking in the sand, building sand castles, making sand angels (?), playing volley ball, having a picnic, skinny dipping, letting the water rush over your feet as you squeal and run away because it’s way too cold. The list could go on.

⛱ But the thing is, there can be a thing as too much beach. So he’s being practical. He plans a holiday where you both will have plenty of options in terms of activities that you can do. The beach house is in a practical location. It’s not too big and not too luxurious since he knows you’ll be spending a lot of time outside. The view is great though. Not too near the beach where you’ll have to suffer through the glare of the sun. And it’s not so far that you can’t admire the glistening ocean waves. The house is near enough to the city as well so that you can go into town whenever you want for shopping, cafe hopping, groceries etc. Afterall, it’s a new town you’ve never explored together before.

⛱ In other words, the whole week to him is one big extended date. From the time you wake up to the time you go to bed and even then, you’re stuck to each other. Your hand is always in his, your arms are always around each other. You’ll probably spend the week making up for all the time and dates that you’ve had to forgo because of the demands of your jobs. Months worth of couples activities will be cramped into this time. It’s busy and it’s rushed and it’s exhausting (you might not sleep much either in favour of star gazing from the balcony of your beach house), but every single moment you’re able to spend with him is worth it.

taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee

458 notes · View notes

were--ralph · 2 months

Note

Hey i saw you ranting about trans men on a post, and i was just wondering a few things. This is a genuine question, as a stelth trans man, i really cant find anything about a pre op transitioning body attractive. Especially a pre op Chest. Now i do take testosterone, and i think that the parts that i find gross (ex: tits mixed with chest hair) are a perfectly acceptable thing to deal with so i can look the way i want to look. I love my body hair and my muscle growth, i just dont love the obviously not cis parts of me. What do you find attractive about this? I truely cannot for the life of me understand why people find trans men attractive but i would really like to understand.

I think spicy food is disgusting generally. it's like. hot and not fun and to me it adds nothing good to the food experience. Genuinely I don't understand why people enjoy hot foods it makes like. literally no sense.

and yet, people do. it's weird. I've tried on multiple occasions to get into spicy food and it just. suks. every single time it sucks. But everyone else in my family lives by it. And I've asked why for years literally unable to understand it until I realized.

sometimes people just. like things. things I certainly don't like and cannot enjoy whatsoever. But at the same time, this is true for me and not for them. I fucking love coffee to the point I drink it more than water most days, but no one else in my family likes it. BUT other people outside my family enjoy it too.

Life is weird and what I'm getting at is something that took me a lifetime to understand and I still can't wrap my head around it all the time.

People just like things. People love things and hate things. What things mean to one person can mean the world to another and death to the third. There's not always a reason for it, but what you have to do is accept that there are things in life that you just might not like much right now. but as time goes on you'll find value in it the same way your partner will find value in you and all the minuscule things you do and become and like and dislike.

And to build on that point, there are things I hated as a kid that I'm fine with and even love now. Each day changes you more than you'll ever know and with those changes, the acceptance that comes with them may be easier or harder.

So, to answer your question, I don't know! I just love men. Men with tits or pecs, men with vaginas or dicks. maybe both at the same time or neither at all! I just think men are generally attractive no matter the design or what's different about them. and not just men but people who present as masc in general. If you're masc nb there's a chance I'm looking at you through the window of a bar as much as if you were cis-male or trans-male.

I do know for some men, the allure of masculinity displaced with the typically-feminine concept of a vagina intrigues them. Maybe it's the juxtaposition of them together, maybe they just want something unique and new to them. Maybe they just really like vaginas and it doesn't matter who it's attached to, or maybe they just like trans men. Same thing with boobs, some guys just like boobs. Some men have boobs. the overlap doesn't mean net-negative results, it could be double positive.

And I don't expect you to love everything about yourself, god knows I don't love everything about myself, and despite people telling me what's good about me I can still find flaws within it whenever I choose. I think men with chest hair are hot as fuck, but also I've seen some smooth men that are just as if not hotter. I love me a fat man or a man with muscles, but i've seen twinks i'd demolish in one sitting as well. I've seen men with dicks and boobs and scars and and hair pretty much everything under the sun and sometimes I want them to sit on me and forget I'm there and smother me.

What you do have to do though is accept that you have those things, and you are those things, and even though you may not like those things you have to accept that they're a part of you and find value in that. And it's not an easy task at all to love yourself, but you have to try because even if you don't right now, there's a partner who will be waiting for you somewhere. there's a future version of you who loves you as you are. there are friends who love your flaws, pets who don't judge, and there are a lot of things that accept you as you are.

So just say you have boobs and chest hair. even if you don't love it about yourself right now know that there are and will always be people who do, and personally I've said before, but I wish i had boobs and chest hair it's just a perfect look to me. I'm fine with whatever my gender is, i just think its a good look. If I had money for top and bottom surgery I'd get it and never look back. You just have to find the value in yourself we all know is there, and if you can't just know that we know it's there and let that carry you through the day!

#i think i lost the plot a bit #but you get it

473 notes · View notes

lendeah · 3 months

Text

Happy Memories

Also on AO3

Summary: Based on this line from the epilogue- One night he tells you that these six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: Fluff and Smut, 6 months post-finale, Lovemaking, Domestic Fluff, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Love Confessions, it's so soft really, Soft Astarion, they have just been through so much, Tooth-Rotting Fluff.

WARNING: +18, minors DNI

The past few months had been a trying time, both of you struggling to come to terms with the events that had transpired. The weight of it all hung heavy in the air, leaving you to navigate through nightmares and Astarion's bouts of dissociation. Yet, somehow, you were making progress. Together.

You had taken it upon yourself to find a cure for Astarion's condition, a challenging task made even more difficult by his returned aversion to sunlight. But it gave you both a purpose, something to look forward to - a brighter tomorrow. The greatest source of joy in your present life was the simple act of lying down next to him every night, enveloped in each other's arms with the comforting knowledge that tomorrow you would once again wake up without the constant fear of losing him.

Together, you had found solace in a serene cottage by Riverbend, settling into a comfortable routine. You delighted in gardening and cooking, while he took care of household chores and lovingly mended and sewed your clothes. On lazy afternoons, you would paint alongside him as he engrossed himself in endless books. It was pure bliss, and you were content with your perfectly imperfect life together.

As the two of you prepared for bed, Astarion wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. In the past, such an intimate gesture would have caught you off guard, but he has since learned to let his guard down and embrace moments of tenderness. Though he still struggles at times, he relishes in this display of affection.

"Everything alright, my love?" you asked, resting your head against his.

Astarion's arms tightened around you as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "Alright would be an understatement," he murmured, his voice low and warm against your skin. "I am absolutely enchanted, my dear."

You turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'm glad to hear that, because I am enchanted too," you said softly.

Astarion leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a delicate kiss. You hummed against his mouth, savoring the familiar feeling of his soft lips moving against yours. He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against yours as he whispered, "I have something I want to show you."

Curiosity sparked within you, but you simply nodded and followed him as he led you outside. The moon was high in the sky, casting its soft glow over everything. Astarion took your hand and led you toward the nearby meadow. And that's when you see it: he has prepared the scenery around to look like the one from the first night you shared together, back at the Grove.

"What is this?" You say, with a huge grin decorating your face.

Astarion's crimson eyes shone with excitement as he turned to you. "This, my love, is a recreation of the night we first shared at the Grove," he said proudly.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you took in the scene before you. The soft grass beneath your feet, the gentle rustling of trees in the distance, and a small basket filled with wine and various snacks, right next to a small blanket.

"I thought we could relive that enchanted evening, but this time we'll make it truly unforgettable." His fingers caressed your cheek, gently wiping away a stray tear, as he added with a cheeky smile, "Because let's be honest, the first time was... underwhelming."

You smiled at him, grateful beyond words for his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, my love, this is incredible," you said, your voice thick with emotion.

Astarion's smile widened and he pulled you into a tight embrace. "Anything for you," he whispered into your ear.

You stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while, just enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Eventually, Astarion led you over to the basket and poured some wine for both of you. As the night went on, the two of you talked and laughed, reminiscing about your early days together and all the adventures you had been on since then. And with each passing moment, it felt as if the world had paused just for the two of you, as if all the events of the previous months were leading up to this one perfect moment.

As midnight approached, Astarion stood and held out his hand. "Shall we dance under the moonlight?" he asked with a playful glint in his eyes.

You raised a teasing eyebrow, "Has the spirit of Wyll possessed you?"

Astarion chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, my dear, you wound me! I assure you, this idea is entirely my own. Besides, who needs Wyll's spirit when I have enough charisma to ignite the heavens themselves?" He flourished a grand gesture, pretending to adjust an imaginary top hat atop his head.

You couldn't help but giggle at his theatrics. "How could I resist such an offer from the ever-enchanting Astarion?" you teased, accepting his outstretched hand.

He pulled you close, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back as he led you in a slow and graceful waltz beneath the soft glow of the moon. The world around you seemed to fade away as you slowly swayed in each other's arms.

"I don't remember this happening on our first night," you murmured against his ear, remembering how different that moment had been compared to this one.

A low, seductive chuckle escaped Astarion's lips as they brushed against your skin. "And pray tell, darling, what do you recall?"

"I remember you trying to seduce me and then almost draining me dry," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Astarion let out a dramatic gasp. "Such slander! I would never do such a thing!" He pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense.

You both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet night. It was a stark contrast to the fake seducing words and lack of feelings of that first night. Now, he was completely at ease, his true self shining through without any pretense or hunger clouding his mind.

"But it was still special," Astarion whispered, stopping the dance to pull you closer to him. "It's what brought us to be here now, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

You smiled up at him, your heart fluttering at his words, as you leaned in to kiss him. It was a gentle and sweet kiss at first but soon turned more passionate as Astarion deepened it. His hands grabbed your thighs and picked you up to press you up against a nearby tree, lips trailing down your neck.

"This is bringing back memories," You say breathlessly.

You could feel him smirk against your skin "Do you really think so? Perhaps I should refresh them even more."

His declaration sent a wave of warmth through your body and you leaned in to kiss him again, eager to lose yourself in the moment. His hands were now unbuttoning your shirt and you gasped as they reached your bare skin. You looked at his hooded eyes, and with a playful smile, offered your neck to him.

However, Astarion pulled away slightly and looked into your eyes, with something like doubt swimming in them. "I want this to be real," he said earnestly. "Not like last time."

You nodded in understanding and smiled softly at him. "It already is," you reassured him, cupping his cheek with your hand.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in to kiss you again, but this time it was slow and tender – an exchange of affection rather than something laced with hunger or deception. Astarion picked you up again and gently set you down on the soft blanket that he had laid out earlier. He leaned in to kiss you once more, his body hovering over yours.

As you entwined your fingers in his soft, white locks, you pulled him towards you, deepening the kiss. His hands explored every curve and dip of your body, sending pleasurable shivers down your spine with each touch.

As his lips trailed from yours, they left a tingling sensation in their wake. Your hands eagerly reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Astarion's hungry gaze followed every movement as you unbuttoned your jeans and let them fall to the ground. With a grin, he helped you out of your remaining clothes before stepping back to fully appreciate your naked form glistening under the moonlight. His eyes traced every curve and dip of your body before meeting your gaze once again, a hunger evident in his expression.

"You are breathtaking," he murmured, and then pulled you into another passionate kiss. Your fingers traced the lines of his bare chest, feeling the softness of his skin. You tugged at his shirt, silently urging him to remove it, and he obliged with a sly smile. His pants soon followed, revealing the chiseled contours of his body. Your hands traced over every ridge and dip of his body, feeling the coolness of his skin against your fingertips.

"I want you to bite me," you whispered urgently.

Astarion leaned down to press his lips against the nape of your neck, making you gasp and arch into him as he traced his fangs along your pulse point. Your skin tingled with excitement as his hands eagerly explored your body before gripping your hips, sending shivers of desire through you.

"Tell me if it becomes too much," he whispered against your skin before sinking his teeth into your neck gently.

You gasped at the sensation – a mix of pleasure and pain that sent sparks flying through your body. Astarion's grip on your hips tightened as he drank from you, his other hand reaching up to cup one of your breasts. You moaned as he continued to drink from you, feeling the pleasure building up inside of you.

After a few minutes, Astarion pulled away and licked the wound on your neck before kissing it gently. His red eyes met yours and they were glowing with a mix of emotions – desire, love, and something else that you couldn't quite pinpoint.

"I'll never grow weary of that," he murmurs, before leaning in for another kiss. Astarion's lips trailed down your neck and onto your chest, leaving a trail of kisses as he made his way towards your breasts, taking a nipple between his lips. Every touch of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure through your body and you arched your back in response.

"Astarion..." you panted.

The sound of his name on your lips only spurred him on, and he began to suckle harder, moving to tease the other nipple with his fingers. His hand moved from your breast to between your legs, and you gasped as his fingers found your wetness. He slipped his fingers between your soaking folds, skillfully rubbing and circling your clit. The combination of his mouth and fingers sent waves of pleasure through you, making you whimper and writhe beneath him.

"Please," you whimpered, unable to hold back any longer.

Astarion smirked against your skin before moving down your body, his lips leaving a trail of kisses until he reached the apex of your thighs. He looked up at you with hunger in his eyes before diving in with his tongue, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

His tongue flicked against your clit, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him on as he continued to please you.

"Astarion...oh gods..." you cried out, your voice thick with need. His fingers thrusted into you relentlessly, syncing perfectly with the skilled movements of his tongue on your swollen clit. Your body arched and trembled with each wave of pleasure, every muscle tensed in anticipation.

"Inside...now..." you begged, unable to find the words to express the ache for him to fill you completely.

Astarion looked up at you from between your legs, his eyes filled with lust and desire, "Whatever you wish, dearest."

With a swift movement, he withdrew his fingers from your slick entrance and aligned himself at your dripping core. He pushed in slowly, savoring the tightness and heat engulfing him. A moan escaped your lips as you were filled to the hilt, waves of pleasure washing over you. Your bodies melted together, panting and trembling with pleasure. He then leaned in close, and gently rested his forehead against yours, breaths mingling as you held each other.

"I never envisioned discovering someone like you," Astarion said softly, "You have made these six months of happy memories counterweight two hundred years of misery."

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes at his words. The weight of his words, the realization that you have brought true joy to someone who has known nothing but misery, crushes you in the most beautiful way.

"I...I love you," you managed to choke out, your heart overflowing with emotion as you reached up to touch his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbone with trembling fingers. "More than anything."

Astarion's eyes softened at your words, a small smile tugging at his lips. He leaned down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, pouring all of his emotions into it. You both stayed like that for a few moments, just lost in each other.

"I love you more than my own existence," he whispered against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. "You are my everything."

Without hesitation, he leaned down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss, and you savored the feeling of his lips against yours. Eventually, he starts slowly moving inside of you, each thrust calculated and precise as he intertwines his fingers with yours. You moaned and wrapped your legs around his waist, still lazily kissing him. Astarion continued to move inside of you with slow, deliberate strokes, making love to you in the most intimate way. Every movement is filled with intense desire and tenderness, eliciting uncontrollable moans of pleasure from your lips.

"You feel so good," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with adoration.

Your legs wrapped around his toned waist, your fingers tightly gripping his as he moved inside you. Each thrust was met with a moan from your lips, the heat and friction between your bodies igniting a passionate fire within you. He held you close, his lips eagerly finding yours in between each deepening thrust. The intensity and intimacy of the moment had you lost in a sea of pleasure, feeling every inch of him as he poured his love into every movement. Your body trembled as you neared your climax, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation any longer. Sensing this, he shifted his hand between your bodies, his fingers finding their way to your clit once again.

"Oh gods," you cried out as the pleasure intensified. Your body trembled and your breath quickened as Astarion's fingers moved expertly over your skin. You dug your nails into his back, desperately trying to hold on as he brought you closer to the edge.

"I'm close," Astarion grunted, his own body trembling with need.

"I am too," you whimpered.

Astarion's movements became faster and more urgent, his own moans mixing with yours in the stillness of the night.

"Look at me when you come," he demanded, and you obeyed.

Your eyes locked with Astarion's, the intensity of his gaze sending chills down your spine. As you reached the peak of pleasure, your body trembled and your walls pulsed around him. You couldn't hold back any longer and cried out his name, drowning in waves of pure ecstasy, and Astarion followed suit with a guttural moan. As you both lay there, breathless and entwined, every cell in your body buzzed with contentment and fulfillment.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice raw with emotion.

"I love you too," Astarion replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off of you and pulling you close to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling content and complete in his arms.

You both lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, until eventually, Astarion spoke up.

"Even if we don't find the cure, being here with you is enough," he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. He paused for a moment, his eyes on yours, searching for the right words. "This is all I ever wanted," he says softly, placing his hand on your cheek.

You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips as you traced your fingers along his chest.

"I feel the same way," you replied, resting your head back on his chest. "But we can't give up hope just yet."

Astarion nodded, his arms tightening around you. "We won't" Astarion replies. He pulls you in close to him, squeezing you tightly. "We'll find the cure. I know we will." A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "And I will spend the rest of eternity making it up to you."

#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic

748 notes · View notes

cozycottagetarot · 3 months

Text

What Do They Daydream About You?

How To Pick A Pile:

Everyone has their own technique for choosing a 'pile'. My recommendation is to clear your mind and focus on each image for a few seconds. The image you find yourself coming back to even when you focus on the other images is the pile for you.

Quick notes on this reading:

I'm experimenting with a different style. -- I've been working on shorter, less structured, formal pacs (and some longer ones). I'm not sure how I feel about it but I'd like to hear your thoughts too!

I apologise for any errors. -- My immune system and I have literally been at war for weeks, so know if there are any errors, I probably missed it while wincing in pain. 😅

It's purely for entertainment purposes. -- Don't think I need to explain more. Take what resonates be it all of it, some of it or none at all.

PILE 1

14:44 as I pulled the last card, maybe 444 is of importance to you at the moment. Knight in shining armour vibes. Noble acts or intentions of just sweeping you off your feet. Introducing you to their friends and or family. Daydreams of big celebrations of being with you, internally and externally. For some, they daydream about celebrating the news of having a child with you. Finding peace after long struggles... starting anew with you. Domestic bliss, as in chilling at home with someone you love, not doing much of anything. Or simply enjoying the mundane tasks together. Going for walks. Having a cup of tea or coffee together. Peppering your skin with kisses... maybe physical touch is their love language. The ghost of their fingertips on your skin. Heart-to-heart conversations. Falling into a routine with you. The magic of embarking on new beginnings with you.

PILE 2

North Star Vibes. Holding out hope that they make it to you. Trying to make life better so they can show up for you. They daydream about how you make them stronger, about you being a good influence on them. It's like the thought of you soothes them when they're struggling. Dreaming that happiness is coming in the form of you. Lots of fiery energy. You're a symbol of hope. Rediscovering what they had lost with you. Feels like someone who has been through a lot. Playfulness. Daydreaming about you is embodying those feelings that seem long forgotten. I know I keep repeating the same thing over and over, but I'm not getting anything more than that (even when I go back to the literal meaning of the cards) so I pulled some love messages. There's the cards 'twin flame', 'finding myself' and 'still listening'. My interpretation is that daydreaming about you holds a mirror up to themselves which inspires them to look deeper within and figure out what they want and who they want to be. They could also find solace in music, they may have a song or playlist that makes them feel more connected to you.

PILE 3

If you were drawn to pile 2, consider checking out that pile as well too. 333. The number 3 could hold some sort of significance.

Dreaming of an equal. Someone to keep them balanced and bring a new perspective. They could feel as though (or know) some kind of scrutiny is possible, but they spend their time dreaming of overcoming it. There could be cultural differences or for some it's a matter of being in a same-sex relationship or anything that goes against what may be more commonly accepted. If it's of any significance, the red string of fate (two different decks mention it). Power couple vibes. Being able to maintain a sense of youthfulness in the relationship. Someone who won't try to take advantage of them, who'll push them to be better and vice versa, who'll look out for them. Someone to heal with and understand that they are still healing. They could dream of having a child with you or starting a family in whatever format that may look like to both of you. Daydreams of warmth & protection. Giving and receiving. You could possibly meet at a concert or connect over music.

PILE 4

I did a repull to make sure I was reading the cards right (it was stormy) and the same cards came out after reshuffling (minus one card). I feel like this person has been reborn. Who they were is not who they are now (or when you meet them). They could daydream of being divinely guided towards you. Someone spiritual or religious. At the very least finding a connection with something (a concept) greater than them. Daydreams of being guided towards happiness. They had a teardown and rebuild of who they are. They could be from a different location, you could meet when travelling across a large body of water. It feels like they're dreaming of coming in hot. They're paving the way for their happy ending. Take it as you will, but instead of a 'damsel in distress' (regardless of gender, it's just women on the cards depicting forging on) type of story, it's one of those ones where it's like "you know what, I'll save myself and I'll chase after my happy ending". Actually, I get a-spec vibes as well and that this person could be a platonic love or a strong platonic bond. It could even be you respectively. But the energy is one of being inspired and ever-lasting bonds. A new resolve, coming home to oneself, resting in the knowledge that the future is going to be good because you'll make it so.

#quick pick #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #tarot reading #cozycottagetarot

425 notes · View notes

wheeboo · 5 months

Text

in bloom | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which you struggle to tell your husband something that can make or break your relationship. PAIRING. idol!husband!kim mingyu x afab!reader (ft. best friend!seulgi) GENRE. fluff, established relationship, idol au, pregnancy au, comfort WARNINGS. reader is pregnant and has female reproductive organs, vague mentions of intimate relations, mentions of fatigue and throwing up, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.5k

requested from anon: idol!husband!mingyu x reader where you find out ur pregnant, and youre nervous to tell mingyu <3

notes: this is my second time ever writing a pregnancy au (first time on this blog), so... i hope u enjoy! i had too much fun with this lol

Being in the bathroom has never been this suffocating before. It's embarrassing, because literally anyone can walk in and hear the way you've been hacking over the toilet the past couple of days just like at your workplace, but the sudden bursts of nausea leaves you with no other option. You take a deep breath, attempting to compose yourself, and finally manage to stand up straight.

The little stick trembles in your hand, and as you peer down at the result, you swear you can feel the world around you completely stop. The two unmistakable lines are staring down at you through the small window of the test. You blink a few times, shaking the test even, as if hoping the lines will disappear or change, but they only remain.

It takes a moment for the reality to sink in. You're going to be a parent. A million thoughts race through your mind, and amidst the chaos, one question stands out: how do you share this with Mingyu?

Your husband is an idol, for God's sake. You've already seen the intensity of his schedule, the rigorous demands of his career, and the constant scrutiny from the public that has negatively affected other celebrities too. It feels as if you're going to be dropping a bombshell down on him.

You both always been careful when being intimate. And though you've had your conversations together about what it would be like to start a family, you never imagined it would happen quite like this, right at this moment when your husband has been reaching the peak of his career and is constantly in the spotlight. The timing couldn't be more unexpected, yet here you are, holding the proof of the little life growing within you.

Bringing the test out of sight, you splash some water on your face, taking a moment to collect yourself, before calmly making your way out of your bathroom, even with the anxious pounding of your heart feeling like it's bouncing off the walls of your place. And then suddenly, you're met with Seulgi running up to you from your living room.

"Well?" she asks, hands clasping together in excitement and an eager smile spreading across her face.

You turn towards her, and for some reason seeing the way your best friend's eyes are literally glowing with curiosity and anticipation almost makes you want to pull her in for a hug and sob into her shoulders. But you can't do that𑁋you're still struggling to process everything.

Instead, you take the pregnancy test out and show it to her.

Seulgi's eyes widen, and her hands fly to her mouth in disbelief.

"No way! Are you serious?" she whispers loudly, staring down at the test just to make sure.

"Yeah, I..." You take a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

Seulgi just squeals, unable to contain her joy. She pulls you into a tight hug that makes you let out a groan at the sudden pressure over your tired body, yet you feel a sense of relief and happiness sharing this moment with someone close.

"Sorry! Oh my gosh, I feel like crying. This is𑁋I'm so happy for you!" Seulgi exclaims as she lets you go, holding your shoulders at arm's length and bouncing up and down happily.

The two of you share a knowing smile with each other. And as Seulgi catches sight of the way your smile doesn't seem as bright as hers, the way it doesn't seem to reach to your ears, she takes a step back, concern etching across her face.

Seulgi takes your hands in hers. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

You let out a sigh. "I'm... I'm just overwhelmed, you know? It's a lot to take in, especially considering Mingyu's schedule and everything."

Seulgi squeezes your hands reassuringly. "I'm sure he will be over the moon, Y/N. He loves you more than anything."

Her words seem to offer comfort, but a lingering worry tugs at the edges of your thoughts. Seulgi senses your unease and pulls you into this time, a gentle hug.

"Listen," she says softly, rubbing her hands up and down your back comfortingly. "Mingyu is your husband. He loves you, and this is something you both have talked about before, right? You both will figure things out, so don't worry too much, okay?"

Feeling a bit more reassured, you manage a small smile. "You're right. I... I just need to find the right time to tell him."

When you both pull away from each other, Seulgi just grins.

"You'll know when the time is right, Y/N," she says, taking another glance down at the test out of excitement once again. "I'm going to be an auntie and spoil that little one rotten!"

You only let out a laugh and playfully shove her away, a lightness in your heart gradually replacing the worry in your bones.

It's been hard trying to conceal away the fatigue whenever you and Mingyu wake up together in the morning and the subtle changes in your eating habits, but you've managed to keep it under wraps so far, constantly playing it off as stress or tiredness, though you do marvel at how your husband is just a little more oblivious than you thought.

Seulgi has been nagging you almost every day to take it easy and to share the news with Mingyu. And as the days pass, the weight of the unspoken truth feels heavier, and you realise that the longer you wait, the more difficult it becomes to find the perfect moment.

So you decide to act on it. You venture to the grocery store to buy some ingredients, and prepare a romantic, intimate dinner at home. You hope that it could help clear away the cloud of anxiety running through your mind and encourage you to finally tell him once and for all.

As the savoury aroma wafts through your home, you set the table with care, ensuring everything is just right. And when you overhear the familiar clicks of the locks at the front door, you take a deep breath, your heart beating a little faster, and slowly make your way to greet him.

Mingyu walks in his almost disheveled glory, a charming mess that somehow makes him even more endearing. His tall, strong frame moves with a grace that seems effortless. You can tell the day has left its mark on him, evident in the slight weariness around his eyes, but there's an unmistakable warmth and charm that lingers in the way he carries himself.

When he catches sight of you, his eyes lock onto yours, and a smile spreads across his face, seemingly erasing any signs of fatigue.

"Hey, beautiful," he greets, closing the door behind him and coming up to you to place a sweet kiss to your lips, like he always does. Then he gestures towards the table. "What's all this?"

A shy smile plays on your lips as you take his hand and lead him to the table. "I thought we could have a special dinner tonight. Just the two of us."

He quirks a teasing eyebrow up, eyes scanning over your face. "Did I forget something?"

You shake your head. "No, you didn't forget anything, honey. I... just missed spending some quality time with you. That's all."

Mingyu's expression softens, and he pulls out a chair for you. God, you love him. "Well, I'm all yours tonight."

As the two of you begin to share the carefully prepared meal, the tension in the room slowly dissipates. He tells you about the recent preparations for his group's performance at an upcoming award show, and you update him on all the latest gossip at your workplace.

You love the sense of normalcy returning to your evening and being with him after such an eventful day. Yet within you, the anticipation courses through your veins beneath the surface of your composed act.

It becomes a bit too hard to handle that you have to dismiss yourself to the bathroom to calm yourself down.

Your hands clutch the countertop as you take a deep breath and lock eyes with yourself in the mirror. The reality of the situation dawns on you anew, the nerves doing nothing but making you overthink. It's a blend of excitement and anxiety, and it makes you tighten your grip on the cold surface of the sink.

You look down at your pocket, where the pregnancy test is safely tucked away. You know you can't postpone this moment any longer.

You've imagined the two of you as parents so many times𑁋waking up together and preparing breakfast for a little one, taking family trips, and experiencing the joy of watching your child grow before your eyes. Envisioning this kind of future with Mingyu has always been a dream, and now that it's becoming a reality, the knot in your stomach tightens.

When you head out of the bathroom, you catch sight of your husband already tidying up and washing your dishes under the dim kitchen light. And for some reason the sight alone is enough to send a surge of warmth through you and make your heart leap out of your chest. You married this man, decided to devote your entire life to him despite the complications with his career, and now, you're about to share a piece of both of you with him.

He dries his hands upon noticing you coming up. Then he looks at you with those warm, loving eyes, and it hits you like a wave𑁋the realisation that this incredible man, who has been your rock, your love, and your partner in all aspects of life, is going to be the father of your child. Just in that moment alone, you swear you fell in love with him all over again.

"Hi, angel." He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together and you can feel his wedding ring pressing against your skin, giving you a playful twirl before pulling you into his arms. "What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You smile softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Mingyu has this uncanny ability to make you feel safe, and right now, you need that more than ever.

"Nothing, just..." You bring a thumb up to brush over his skin. "Thinking about you."

Mingyu giggles heartily, pushing back some hair away from your face. "Oh, yeah?" His voice is low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Hmm, is it good thoughts?”

You only give him a sly grin. "Always."

Mingyu just pulls you even closer, his hands making their way down to hold you lightly at the waist.

"Good, because..." He leans in, pressing a kiss to the spot behind your ear. "I've been thinking about you too."

You laugh softly, relishing the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. When he pulls away, your gazes meet together, and you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. This is it𑁋the moment you've been waiting for.

"Can you close your eyes for me?" You whisper, a nervous but hopeful smile playing on your lips.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "What's this, a surprise?"

You nod, trying to conceal the trembling excitement in your voice. "Just close your eyes, honey. Trust me."

He chuckles but obliges anyway, shutting his eyes and wearing a curious grin. You take a moment to compose yourself, feeling the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders. With a deep breath, you retrieve the pregnancy test from your pocket and carefully place it into his hand.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Mingyu blinks his eyes open, and as he sees the pregnancy test in his hand, his expression transforms from curiosity to bewilderment. He looks down at the test, then back at you, his eyes widening with realisation.

"I𑁋is this...?"

"Yeah, we're..." Your words trail off for a second, and you swallow down the lump in your throat. "We're going to be parents."

Mingyu's eyes widen even further, and for a moment, he seems frozen in place. The seconds only continue stretch, feeling like an eternity in the utter silence of your place. You watch the flicker of emotions on his face𑁋surprise, confusion, shock, joy, and a hint of nervousness.

Then, as if a switch is flipped, a radiant smile breaks across his features. Before you can say something, you find yourself being lifted up and sat on the island of your kitchen with Mingyu standing between your legs.

"W-We're going to have a baby?" he stammers, as if the test wasn't enough to convince him and he needs to hear it from your own lips.

You cup his face with your hands. "Yes. We're... we're going to be parents, Gyu."

That's all it takes him for to kiss you, a gentle yet fervent kiss that feels enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Smiles emerge on both of your faces, laughter leaves your lips as he peppers kisses now all over your face.

"I can't believe it," he says between kisses, before pulling away to look at you. There's something a bit different in the way he's looking at you now, something deeper, more profound. "You're carrying our baby. I'm... I'm going to be a dad."

He gently rests his forehead against yours, his hands still cupping your face.

"We're going to be parents," he repeats, savouring the words on his tongue. He knows that phrase will be repeating in his head for the longest time. "I can't believe how lucky I am."

You kiss him again. The kitchen seems to glow with warmth and love as Mingyu holds you close, refusing to pull away anytime soon.

A pair of large arms sneak around you, the soft light of the morning seeping in through the small window and bathing your bathroom in an relaxing, ethereal glow. Mingyu nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his familiar scent wrapping around you comfortingly.

"Good morning, my love," he whispers, lips grazing against your ear.

You dry your face with a towel, letting out a contented sigh as you relax into his embrace. "Good morning."

As the quietness of the morning takes over, you feel Mingyu's hand drift a little lower, before stopping right at the hem of your shirt.

"Can I?" he asks carefully.

You can't help but grin. "You know I'm not even showing yet, right?"

Mingyu just smiles meekly against your skin. "I know. I just want to feel close to the both of you."

So with a nod, you feel his hand make its way under your shirt and gently rest on your stomach. It's only been a day since you've told him, yet he traces over your skin with such tenderness that it makes your heart swell with right out of your chest. He's always been this gentle with you, treating you with the utmost care and love as if you're the most delicate treasure he's ever held. And now, knowing that he's going to extend that same love to the tiny life growing within you, it brings heat to your eyes.

You lean back into him, relishing the warmth of his touch.

As his hand comes to a stop, he places his head on your shoulder. "This is real, isn't it?"

You cup over his hand with yours, following the way he's caressing over your stomach. "Very real."

Mingyu presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, and one to your shoulder blade.

"I love you," he murmurs into your skin. "I love you both so much."

His words linger in the hushed bathroom, and you both stand there for a little while, simply basking in the warmth of the moment knowing that your little family is now in bloom.

"I love you too," You finally reply, turning so that you can face him. "We love you too."

Mingyu just pulls you close and kisses you once more. He will never get tired of hearing that.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts

#kflixnet #k-labels #caratsland #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #mingyu imagines #mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu fluff #kim mingyu x reader #svt imagines #svt fic #svt fluff #svt x reader

817 notes · View notes

captain-barnes-writes · 11 months

Text

Solace

Summary: In which finding comfort in the arms of Bucky Barnes after Steve leaves turns into something more.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, past relationship with Steve Rogers

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: Language, smut smut smut, unprotected sex, --18+

NOT PROOFREAD

Was it wrong to seek comfort in the arms of your ex boyfriend’s bestfriend?

Frankly, she knew it was. How wrong it looked in the eyes of others. She always questioned the choice she’d made all those months ago. The very conscious decision to kiss and find herself on top of Bucky Barnes whenever possible.

They both didn’t mean for it to happen. Y/N had found solace within Bucky after Steve just up and jumped into a time machine to live out his life with a woman he could never forget . Another decision that had been well thought out and conscious of the heartbreak and loss that it would ensue for those closest to him, especially the girl he’d told countless times he loved.

Her.

The person he’d shared more than a year with. It had been her who had been hurt the most, feeling blindsided as though she had meant nothing to him. As though she had not been enough for him to stay.

Now, she couldn’t really fathom to think of Steve Rogers much. Not when Bucky Barnes was on top of her. Not when she felt utterly consumed in his presence. And especially not when his metal arm was wrapped around her throat.

Fucking each other came so easy to them. The attraction had always been there, buried deep beneath the loyalty and respect they both had for Steve. But when the months passed and their paths crossed many times after that loss, it was quite impossible to not give into the longing looks.

God, it had really been impossible for them. Not when all she could focus on was the pink of his lips as he talked, her lashes fluttering as she tried so hard to keep her composure. Meeting his eyes didn’t make anything better because if she wasn’t staring at his lips, it was his eyes that really did it for her. The beautiful blue in them luring her in further into the attraction that once couldn’t be, and yet they both knew there was nothing stopping them any longer.

For Bucky, it was the same. The front of his pants tightened whenever he found himself in her presence. She was beautiful and he would’ve been lying to himself if he said he hadn’t found her attractive ever since the day they met. He’d never been a hopeless romantic nor did he believe in fairytales, but the tingles he felt when he first reached for her hand and she’d instead pulled him in for a friendly warm hug had literally made him shudder. He had laughed it off, still denying the feelings she’d lit inside him.

So when they both found themselves stumbling into her apartment after having met for dinner, it had been no surprise that their kiss sent tingles down each of their spines. It was needy, passionate and in the same way it felt like relief as well. Relief that they could give into something they had both yearned for a while and not feel any guilt as nothing was stopping them.

That had been months ago when they both succumbed to the fiery passion that had only been lit aflame with time. Now with a month of not having seen each other, it felt as though each of them were missing a little part of each other.

For Bucky, it was satisfaction that he felt too. To be able to feel the softness of her skin under his fingers, but most especially of his metal fingers on her bare skin and that she didn’t care, that she welcomed the cold of his prosthetic with breathy moans.

She breathed out, her eyes shadowed with pure admiration for the handsome man laying above her on the couch since they couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. It should’ve felt wrong, but it didn’t. It felt phenomenal to be wanted by someone like him. He was Bucky Barnes, who rarely showed his true emotions but with her and their common grief he’d been nothing but a light at the end of the dark tunnel she thought she’d never come out of.

“I missed you, Bucky.” She dared to say, voice soft yet laced with so much lust. It was simple to admit that she’d missed him. Every part of him. Him, his smile, his crinkly eyes.

Just him.

Pretty lips so swollen and red, eyes wide and expectant as she looked at the handsome man above her. He couldn’t form a coherent response to her for a minute as he was on top of her, kissing those lips he’d had a craving for for too long.

“I missed you too, baby.”

She was addicting and he still couldn’t believe that he could touch her and she’d allow it, that she would visibly revel in his touch. That she wanted him just as much as he did, it was evident. Evident in the way she always kissed him, scratched at his back and moaned his name loudly into any room they found themselves wrapped up in each other.

His metal arm was cold against her skin, but despite this it didn’t bother her. The rest of his body radiated warmth and was enough to soothe her. His hands moved from being a tangled mess on her hair to her legs where he signaled for her to wrap them around his waist. She did so and felt every ridge of his strong body with her curious hands, from his hard stomach to his growing cock. Her hands swiftly unbuttoned his pants and slid her hands under his boxers. He was already rock hard and her nimble hands wrapped around the warm thick shaft, slightly squeezing him.

Their lips were still meshed together, unable to part from one another. Meanwhile his rough hand had pushed down the thin cotton pants she was wearing, showcasing her lavender panties and soft skin. His fingers pushed the delicate fabric aside and began to rub circles on her lips with his palm, while his fingers had arched down to work on her nub. At this, she pulled away from his lips to let out a breathy moan and her hand, too, had come to a halt in his boxers.

He continued to rub his hands on her most sensitive area, building up what he could imagine would shatter her in the most beautiful way. His middle finger had slid inside her and his lips had attached to her neck sucking on her sweet skin. She smelled of honey and vanilla and tasted like it too and he’d be lying to himself if that didn’t make him harder. Y/N’s moans were music to his ears and he wanted to hear more of her, his body slowly moved downwards, kissing his traveling down and pushing her shirt up in the process so he could place wet kisses on her breasts and stomach.

Finally, he reached her most sensitive area and without hesitation, attached his lips on her clít. His tongue massaging the smooth area, lapping at her juices. Bucky’s metal arm had placed itself on her breasts, moving slowly against her nipple. The cold metal had made her shiver once but it brought another sense of excitement that she was unable to hold her head to keep watching him expertly lap at her clit. Her body was starting to shake at what Bucky was putting her through, it was a sweet sensation. Her stomach was starting to tighten, preparing her for what she knew would be a shattering orgasm. Feeling the slight shakes and whimpers from her, he quickly halted his movements.

“You’re gonna come when I’m inside you.” He said, voice laced with lust at the sight of her naked body sprawled on the large couch desperate for him to keep touching her. To get her to that finish line that made her mind and body swirl with incomprehensible joy. Her eyes were half closed, still in a high.

Her lips had attached to his, tasting her essence on his lips and tongue. It was exhilarating to her, being able to touch him and feel how warm he was. She broke free from him urging him to take his clothes off. With pure admiration in her face, she watched as he pulled his sweats along with his boxers down his legs. He was handsome and she was really about to fuck him yet again, she felt like the luckiest.

“Fuck me, Bucky. Please.”

He didn’t waste a single second before he was sinking his length inside her. Filling her to the hilt, until her nails met his back. The usual crescents forming on his back as she relished in the feeling of once again having Bucky inside her. Of being able to feel him and kiss him once again after months.

He felt so good fucking her. His hips already creating that same pattern that she’d come to love. Rough violent movements showing her how much he’d missed her. How much he’d missed the sweet taste of her, her juices in his mouth, the feel of her around him squeezing him.

“Baby you take me so fucking well.” He grunted as the girl below him could only moan in response. She felt delirious, entrapped in the feeling of being fucked into the cushion and enjoying every second of it. She loved it like this. So rough and loving all at once, hips slamming her and yet his hands still managed to carry their gentle touch. Running through her hair, caressing any part of her body where he felt she most needed it.

“You feel so good.”

“Yeah?”

With a bite of her lip, she fought against the roughness of his movements pushing her body upwards to meet the pistoning. She was more wet than she had ever been, the liquid a mess on her legs, on his, and on the cushion. She fucked him back knowing how much he loved that.

“I’ll never get tired of this.” Bucky said, voice low as though he didn’t want her to hear. But she did.

Their eyes met and all she could do when words failed her was to push her body up and take his lips between hers. Kissing him so fervently as he continued fucking her. She felt the same, she could never get tired of the man before her. She could never get tired of how their bodies molded so well together, how their lips met and suddenly everything was alright.

He was everything to her now. The past was just that now: the past. She didn’t think of Steve, not when she was with Bucky, not even when she was alone. Not when he appeared in magazines that still talked about captain america, of his trajectory, not when he came up in conversations as she walked by. That’s how she knew that she had truly moved on.

“Fuck Bucky, I’m gonna come.” She squealed as his metal hand began rubbing slight circles on her slick. The coldness of the prosthetic was just enough for the release her body needed. His dick was hitting her most sensitive spot inside her pushing her further and further from herself and within seconds, she was moaning his name into the room loudly.

Just that alone, seeing how he could get her to come so easily with his touch, Bucky began chasing his own release. She was wetter, pussy juices flowing down her legs and the slick noises of their skin slapping against one another. Her walls spasming around him, constricting him so fervently that his release too followed within seconds of hers. Hips faltering and groans filling the room. In their own world, high off each other.

“I could never get tired of you either, Bucky.” She said against his chest moments later once they’d both came down of their high. Letting him know that she’d heard him and she felt the same. Chests still heaving, still tired and sweaty, but their hearts full yet again.

I’m so rusty lol but hope you guys like it 🫣

#Bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #fanfic rec #bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x female reader #marvel fanficition #sebastian stan #steve rogers #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

1K notes · View notes

ovaryacted · 2 months

Note

what about ID Leon (feel like he’d have been a total fuckboy atp as a sort of phase) but what ab he always comes back to you and after a heated argument he fucks you as he’s pressing your face into the mattress while you're crying and clutching the sheets as you’re begging him to let you finish again 🤭

MDNI/18+. NSFW. | cw: Leon is ooc. Possible toxic relationship.

Ooooooo, you’re cooking here anon. Even though I personally don’t headcanon or view Leon as a fuckboy (because let’s face it, that man is not getting laid for the life of him I mean…), let’s go ahead and say he has an ego and it is reflected in his shitty communication skills (cause of anxiety and trauma womp womp).

It was a heated moment where Leon accidentally raised his voice at you, mentioning something about not listening to orders on a mission. It was a close call and you had ventured off without Leon’s support, and he kept calm until you were both back home. It first started as a regular conversation until it deviated from Leon not being able to keep you within arm’s reach, to you being too individualistic. You knew why he did this, he was often too worried for his good and you’d always remind him that you could handle yourself even if he didn’t believe you.

“You have to listen to me when we’re out there. Do you know what could’ve happened or do you just not give a shit?”, Leon huffed out a breath, his arms crossing over his chest and shooting daggers at you.

“Well, I’m not you Leon, not all of us think the way you do. The sooner you accept it the better!”, you grew more defiant, more angry for God knows what. The bitterness you felt from Leon always being gone to never listening to you on missions started to fester out of control.

The argument only got more intense, turning into a yelling match between the both of you. Hurtful words were said, things neither of you meant, and with a cruel “Go fuck yourself Leon”, you watched him walk out the door and slam it behind him.

You pissed him off, he pissed you off, but there was nobody else who understood your relationship the way you both did. This wasn’t the first time you two argued either, often happening after you were both stressed out and didn’t find a proper release for it. You couldn’t blame Leon entirely, always being forced to do the government’s bidding and having limited freedom would put anybody on the verge of a breakdown. Being each other’s vices also didn’t help, so it wasn’t surprising when you found Leon knocking on your front door with furrowed eyebrows close to a day later.

He smelled like whiskey, not too much to the point where it was dizzying, but enough to let you know he was drinking. Leon wasn’t there to talk, you knew that much, stuck in a never-ending cycle of adrenaline and unresolved issues.

That was how you found yourself in this position now, face down ass up on the mattress. The things that happened after you welcomed Leon back into the apartment and closed the door behind him were a blur. You remembered him kissing you hard on the mouth, walking you backward towards the bedroom and yanking on your clothes. He wasn’t gentle, not entirely, but when he pulled you forward by the leg as his mouth gravitated towards your cunt, you couldn’t stop him. You didn’t want to.

“Leon…please…”, you could barely speak, barely think, your brain was melting and spilling out of your ears along with the rest of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the consequences and how this might seem. Always fighting with this man just to end up back in bed with him was something you should be embarrassed about. But with the way he was pummeling into you, it was easier to forgive him.

“Just shut up”, he muttered under his breath, fucking into you harshly from behind and focusing on the way your walls pulsed around his cock. He was relentless, moving in an aggressive push-and-pull that hadn’t stopped since he crossed the threshold of your front door. The back of his hand grabbed onto your head, pushing your face against the mattress and making you release a muffled whimper.

You hid your face in the bed, tears slipping down your cheeks and your fingers digging into the sheets. Maybe this was what you deserved, to be tested constantly so Leon could come back home, back to you.

“Quit your fucking whining, I’ll let you cum”, Leon didn’t stop, knowing you were on the verge of cumming all over him for the umpteenth time. No matter how mad he was at you at the moment or how badly you pissed him off, he would let you cum however many times you could.

Sometimes you hated him for it, how he could play your body like a violin and pull every string taut until it snapped. He drained you, he stressed you out, but you still gave yourself willingly every time because that’s what made him stay.

This was how he liked you. Pliant and taking what he had to give. That was all you could do, because no matter what, Leon always came back to you.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #ovaryacted asks

281 notes · View notes

patrophthia · 1 year

Text

fairy of shampoo | theodore nott

pairing: theodore not × reader

genre: fluff, (maybe) miscommunications, crushes, confused feelings, we’re besties with draco (he’s annoying) (affectionate), not beta read

wc: 3.8k

this is a combination of this and this requests ! i hope you like it!! theo content for the win!!

taglist: @tr4ppola

If he really tried to think about it, he could recall the first time he'd ever saw you. He was eleven, standing on platform nine and three quarters with his father by his side. You were talking to someone sitting across you with a pout, he was blond, hair platinum as it could be. His father slips a bag into his pocket the same second you looked out the window.

Your eyes met and he could tell that his father had just given him this month's allowance. You smile at him and he distractedly bids his father goodbye. And if he were to remember it correctly, this was when you'd planted his heart in a rose-coloured fantasy.

He climbs on to the train, and the longer he spent trying to find you within the carriages he passed, the quicker he'd realised that he'd already forgotten your face. You, who he now childishly deem his one, and only fairy.

It wasn't long until he saw you again, not that he knew that it was you, his (and he cringes when he thinks of this now) fairy. You were now an acquaintance of his, and apparently a friend of his dorm-mate, the spoiled brat: Draco Malfoy.

He remembers it more clearly now, every single aspect of his life that has been affected by you. He blames it on Malfoy for always dragging you wherever he went. And he blames it on himself for thinking that you were too pretty for your own good.

Pretty enough to be in a shampoo commercial even. Maybe then you'd be an actual fairy; a fairy of shampoo.

Sometimes you forget just how rich the Malfoy's were until Draco invites you to stay at his lake house with him and his Slytherin friends over the summer. And seeing as you've both known each other for so long that even your parents had grown annoyed with one another, you'd had your stuff packed and brought over before summer even started.

Draco was quick to take up the master bedroom, assigning you the room next to his just so he could easily come in and annoy you. You didn't really mind it, your room has a bathroom attached to it; it connects your room to another.

You'd shared this room with Draco before, a double sink in the bathroom being a great source of morning conversations. You always stayed at the other side though, just so he could be closer to his parents but still close enough to you for him to barge in and bother you whenever he liked.

Pansy took the one opposing yours, Blaise just down her hall leaving the one connected to yours for Nott to take up.

Day-one activities consisted of the five of you going to the local farmers market to shop for groceries. Draco —and the others for this matter, didn't like this idea much, but you were all grown up now, you should be able to handle this without the help of house elves.

"Strawberries?" Pansy says. "Have we gotten them yet? I really like them."

You nod. "Yeah, we got a few pounds of it. Is that okay or should we get more?"

"No it's fine," she answers. "We can always come again for more."

Draco groans at her words. And you roll eyes, reaching over to smack his arm. "Don't be a lazy brat."

"I'm not being a lazy brat," he says defensively, "it's hot and we could easily have someone else do this for us. We could be spending this time doing something else."

"Doing what exactly?" You retorted. "It's not like you're getting laid anytime soon."

Blaise snorts at your words as Malfoy mumbles under his breath. "Is your father going to hear about that?"

"Fuck off, Zabini."

The five of you continue on your trip around the market, stopping by for occasional snacks and you start to suspect that Draco enjoys this much more than he lets on whenever he spots a new shiny toy.

It didn't take long for you to finish up with your groceries, so to treat yourselves, you'd decided to head over for something refreshing. You'd settled on ice cream, approaching the closest parlour you could find.

"Hey, I'm about to go order," you say, standing a short distance away from Theodore who had yet to order unlike the other three. "Which flavour do you want?"

Theodore took a glance at you, then after a second he turned back the window that had him preoccupied just minutes before. Okay, that was rude.

But you chopped it up to him being the introvert that he is, so instead you went up to Draco and asked him about his friend. "Which one do you think he likes? I asked him and he straight up ignored me."

"Maybe he just didn't hear you," Draco suggested, then adding; "or that he didn't want anything."

"But then again, this is Theo we're talking about, who knows what he's thinking." Draco takes a bite out of his sorbet, pondering for a second. "Just get him vanilla, it's basic, everyone likes vanilla."

With two cones in hand, one for you and the other for Theodore, you cautiously approach the tall Slytherin. "Draco told me to get you vanilla," you said, smiling up at him. "Is that okay with you? I could get you anothe—"

"It's fine," Theo cuts you off, reaching for the cone you were about to offer him. If his tone had an affect on your attitude, you don't let him see it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Your voice drops barely above a whisper, clearly done with this conversation. "Should we head back then?"

Theo only nods. And you try your best to not let it get to you, he was reserved when it comes to new people; you know this. Then why does he still close himself off from you when you've known him for the last seven years of your life?

Mornings at the country lake house were one of your favourite things, it's quiet and you always wake up feeling restful and content. You got up from your bed and made your way to the bathroom. A twist at the knob and turn had you entering it in no time.

You went up to your side of the sink and it's only when you reached for your tooth brush did you notice the blurry figure beside you. "Good morning," you greeted with a soft smile without much thought, beginning your morning routine by brushing your teeth. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," he says. He wants to say more but he can't think of a single thing to tell you. He wants to tell you how much he likes standing here with you right now. He wants to tell you how much he both loves and hates being around you because he always, without fail, ends up a frozen mess. "How did you?"

"It was good." At least he's making conversation. He finishes up brushing his teeth and you're more than just relieved. It's not easy talking to someone who clearly doesn't enjoy your company. "I'll see you in a bit then."

Theodore hums in acknowledgement and turns towards his room, shutting the bathroom door behind him. It's only when he's gone did you realise he'd only worn sweats to sleep.

Blaise was kind enough to make breakfast for everyone, and Theodore was lucky enough to be the first to get a taste of it.

"Good morning," he greets the brunet, his back to him as he keeps eyes on his cooking pancakes. "Princess' not up yet?"

"No," Theo answers, going over to his side to help plate each person's portion. "And you know she hates it when you call her princess right?"

"Yeah," Blaise says with a slight chuckle. "But she always looks so mad when we call her that, it's funny."

"You say that as if she doesn't cuss us out whenever any of us calls her that," Theo retorts, him adding extra of the things he knew you liked on your plate not missed by Blaise.

Blaise only shrugs, "you get used to it after a while."

Theo only hums as a response. And after a second, he decides to tell Blaise about something that has been plaguing his mind since he woke up this morning. "She said good morning to me."

Blaise' brows furrows. "Okay?"

"I didn't say it back."

"Oh so she hates you know." Theo scowls at him and Blaise can't help but laugh at his crushing friend.

"You're supposed to make me feel better."

"Well it's not my fault you're an idiot," Blaise retorts, "it wouldn't be this difficult if you'd just ask her out."

"You know I can't do that."

Draco walks into the kitchen. "And why can't you?"

"I don't know how to explain it," he says first, now setting up the table with Draco's help. "I feel like I'm walking on clouds when I talk to her and yet I can't find the words to express how I feel and always end up making her upset with me."

Draco shares a glance with Blaise. This must've been the most they'd heard him speak in one morning. "Oh so you're whipped?"

"Who's whipped?"

Merlin was not on Theo's side this morning. Because why else would you be here while he's having this conversation out of everything else he could've been chatting about?

"Nott," Draco snickered.

"Oh." Your face falls and he hopes more than anything that you were disappointed, or maybe even jealous at the prospect of him being into someone other than you. "Good luck then."

Pansy who'd come into the kitchen with you, and stayed by your side as she listened in; only frowns at your word. "Why do you sound like that? Don't you want to know who it is?"

"I do," you murmured. "But it's not like he's going to tell us who it is anytime soon."

"And why not?"

"Are we talking about the same guy? It took me three months to get a word out of him," you retorted. "I doubt he's just going to tell us who he's dating."

"Not dating per se, just crushing," Blaise corrected.

"Theo has a crush?" Pansy gasps. "How exciting."

"Don't act surprised," Theodore scoffs, taking a seat at the table. And, as if he was pointing out that the skies were blue, he adds: "You're standing right next to her."

"Are you sure, princess?"

If you didn't have as much on your mind as you did, you'd tell Blaise off. But there were bigger matters at hand, so instead you decided on a friendlier reply. "Just go on, I'll join you in a minute."

"Okay," he says with a slight frown, now that you're not telling him to go do something inappropriate with himself for just calling you princess. He's starting to wonder if you are okay, but he'll let you tell him all about it at your own time, so instead, he says: "If you say so."

He tosses you his towel and you put it to your side, watching him as headed towards Draco and Pansy who were on their second attempt at drowning one another. Yeah this is going to be a long day.

You tried to be logical, but every logical thought points towards one conclusion: Theodore Nott likes you.

Because who else could've he been talking about when he said his 'crush' was standing right next to Pansy. Unless he meant the air on the other side of her? But that's insane, he couldn't possibly mean that. And, in all honesty, you think that he couldn't have possibly meant you.

It could've been a joke but Theodore has a look on his face, one where you could always without fail tell that he was planning a joke, and you were sure that he hadn't worn that look when he'd said it. And even if it was a joke, this was a very cruel one for him to tell.

The sound of sand dipping a short distance away catches your attention; to your right Theodore sat on the sand as he looked straight ahead.

He must've felt you looking at him, there was no way he couldn't have but he was showing no signs that he knew whatsoever.

You clear your throat. "You're not going in?" He turns to you, his hair —now outgrown and floppy, flies in each and every direction. He then shakes his head. "Why not?"

He turns back to the other three in the water. "I didn't want to leave you here alone."

"So you're keeping me company?" A nod of his head tells you all you need to know. Plague with questions and questions and questions, all of which Theodore related, you can't help but ask him. "Why?"

"You know why."

"No," you say. "I think I know why, not that I actually know it."

"Does your thinking involve me having feelings for you?" A nod from you cues his next response. "Atta girl, that was right on the nose."

Feeling restless at his words, you got up onto your feet and made your way over to where he sat. "I don't get it," you say first, and as a response, Theo looks up at you. "I don't get you."

Theo's face showed no emotions. "What don't you get about me?"

"Just yesterday, you blatantly ignored me and then today you say that you have feelings for me out of nowhere?" You say frustratingly, and Theo feels bad, he really does, for finding you so cute that he could barely hide his smile. "How am I supposed to believe you?"

He only blinks at you. "You just do."

What. You squint your eyes at him, "are you serious right now?"

"I am," he says, frowning. "Is it that hard to believe?"

"Yes," you say exasperatedly. "If you have feelings for me then why do you always treat me like shit?"

He thinks for a second. He could either tell you the truth, which was that he's kind of in love with you and he was terrified of speaking to you because he didn't want you to find out or change the topic completely. "I'm going for a swim."

?!?

That's what you get? For asking him questions about his feelings for you? Were men always this complicated? "You're just going to ignore me?"

"I'm not." He slips his shirt off, heading into the lake where your three friends were trying to not be obvious about how they were listening in.

"You're not what?" You ask him, trailing after him.

"I'm not treating you like shit nor am I ignoring you," he says finally. "I just don't know what to say."

Dinner is quiet. The tension can be felt by everyone and no one —not even Draco, dared to point it out. Something was going and as worried as they were about it, they were much more afraid of what their friend would do to them if they said something about it.

So instead, the three of them decided to be good and enjoy their meal without so much as a word. "Didn't know you could cook, Theo."

Theodore looks up from his plate and at Pansy. Her eyes suddenly went wide, feeling like a deer caught in headlight. So to ease herself out of the situation she adds. "This is delicious."

"Thanks," he murmurs lowly, turning back to his plate.

You watch as Blaise, Draco, and Pansy share a look. Blaise soundlessly ushering out a "what was that?"

Pansy, looking panicked, responded. "I don't know?! It was getting too quiet."

"You do know that you can just talk normally right?" All eyes turn on you. "No reason for hushed whispers, you know?"

Blaise looks at you bashfully, " 'course."

"Sorry," Pansy muttered. "We were thinking of having a Bonfire actually."

"That sounds fun," you nod, wordlessly waiting for Theo's response. "Do you want to join?"

Theodore looked up distractedly, and shook his head once he'd processed your offer. "No, I think I'll head to bed early."

The four of you accept his answer as is, tidying up the table before you bid him goodbye and went to the backyard. Pansy was quick to start a fire, especially with magic at her aid.

Once you've all sat down, Blaise passed each of you a bottle of butter beer and threw over some snacks. "It's really nice out tonight."

"It is," Pansy says in agreement, tearing open her bag of chips. "This is nice."

The conversation was strain, an invisible barrier clearly in the way of you and your friend. You look up at the stars, clocking in each star you spotted. Vega. Altair. Draco.

The blond yawns loudly, "Nott would love this."

Blaise snickers, "I thought we weren't going to mention him."

"And why not?" You ask. "Just because I'm here? He's still your friend, you can talk about him all you want."

"A friend who's been in love with you longer than you've known him," Draco murmurs, taking a sip of his butterbeer. And when the other turns to scold him, he rolls his eyes; clearly unbothered. "What? Princess here needs to know sooner or later."

"Don't call me princess," you say first, tone stern as it could be. "And what do you mean he's been in love with me longer than I've known him?"

Blaise shook his head. "You need to talk about this with him yourself."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" You countered. "The reason I'm in this mess in the first place is because of how he'd never speak to me. Now you want me to talk to him about his feelings? Do you hear yourself?"

"I know it's difficult," Pansy chimes in. "It's not exactly in his nature to talk much. But that doesn't mean you can't get anything out of him. You just need to go slowly about it."

"You want me to go slowly?" You don't really know how you feel. On one hand, you're upset with your friends that they've been hiding Theo's feelings for you from you for who knows how long. And on the other, you're mad at how they're telling you to go slow despite how fast everything has gone. "Just this morning I thought Theo hated me, and then out of nowhere I got told that he's been in love since before I even knew him. How am I supposed to go slowly with this when everything is going faster than I could think?"

The group falls silent, putting themselves in your shoes as they try to think of a way to help you out with your predicament.

Then finally, Pansy asks the question the others had been thinking about. "Do you think —that even for the slightest bit, that you could like him back?"

You frown. "I haven't really thought about it."

A part of you has, and Draco knows it, he was your best friend, you've told him everything you have ever thought of. And he knew that, despite you never actually having feelings for Theo, that if he ever were to ask you out, you'd give him a shot.

"Go talk to him," Draco says. "If you don't I'm telling your parents you're having unprotected premarital sex."

He's doing this for your own good, or at least he convinces himself that he was. And when you call out his bluff, he pulls out his wand; ready to send a patronus message any second.

"You can't make me do that."

"Oh yeah?" He says testingly. "Watch me, expecto—"

Wanting him to shut up, you got up from your spot and shot him a pointed look. "I will kill you the first thing next morning Draco Malfoy."

"Yeah yeah," he only waves you off with an amused smirk. "Just use protection."

You stood outside your door. Wondering whether you should knock on his bedroom door or find him through the bathroom. Deciding that the latter was somewhat creepy, you nervously land a set of knocks on his door.

A second goes by before the door swings open. Theodore stood tall in plaid pyjamas pants and a forest green sweater, his hair a mess. His figure barely lit aside from the lamp on his bedside table, a book laying half open beside it.

Not really knowing what to say, you settled on a simple. "Hi."

"Hi." Theo shuffles to the side, inviting you in.

You stood in his room as he shut his door. He sits him on his bed and looks up at you. Your eyes met and just before you chicken out, you ask him. "Can we talk?"

"Aren't we already doing that?"

Since when did he get so snarky? "Okay," you murmur. "Well I wanted to talk to you about today."

Many things happened today, you'd have to be more specific is what he didn't say. Only keeping quiet as he waited for you to go on.

"I guess I'm just a little confused," you tell him. "Do you actually have feelings for me or are you messing with me?"

He stares at you for a minute before asking. "Don't you think it's a bit cruel to mess with you by saying so?"

"That's exactly what I thought," you let out frustrating. "But then again you're the one who's been ignoring me all these years and then you decide to drop that you have feelings for me out of nowhere. So I'm sorry if I think that this is a cruel joke."

"I would never joke about how I feel for you."

"Then please tell me how you feel," you say. "Because I'm driving myself mad trying to understand you."

Theodore pities you, pities how you don't understand just how desperately into you he is, pities how he had to explain to you just how much you mean to him and just how stupid he's been for not telling you all these years.

He thinks and thinks and thinks. Trying to find the right words to articulate how he feels. "I fell in love with you the moment I saw you."

He stands and walks over to you, and you hate how you have to crane your neck up to look at him. "Which was?"

"First year," he says, "platform nine and three-quarters."

Seeing as you can't recall ever meeting an eleven year old kid with dark hair and dark eyes. You decided that he was a liar. A cute one at that.

"I met you again when I became friends with Draco," he tells you. "And at first I hated you, not because there was anything wrong with you but because you were pretty and you were nice, and that you made me speechless every time I saw you."

"I only thought people like you existed in fairy tales," he says. And you have to fight back the urge to vomit at how cheesy he was. "When I do talk to you though, I always get a feeling I can't explain in words. But I'm willing to try my hardest if you’d give me a chance."

"A chance to?" You draw out.

"You know what I'm asking." He murmurs, a hand reaching for yourself. You let him take it, intertwining his fingers with yours in the process. "Don't make me say it princess."

"If you’re asking me on a date then your chances were ruined the moment you called me princess.”

He finds himself smiling at your words, eyes kept on you as he tries to memorise your face. He'd forgotten it once and he won't let it happen again.

— from bee: i don’t really like this but oh well, feedbacks/notes/reblog are incredibly appreciated!!

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader #theodore nott humor #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott fanfiction #theo nott fanfic #🧳: my writing

1K notes · View notes

shunsuiken · 1 year

Text

THE ONE I RETURN TO.

pairing. kamisato ayato x fem!reader

genre. fluff + marriage au + reader is kinda shy btw (PLEASE CAN U BLAME ME ITS AYATO) + also you wear fragranced hand cream here

synopsis. day to day life married to kamisato ayato is never boring. there is always something to complete and achieve by the end of the day. however, due to your husband’s busy schedule, he’s never seen you in your element at work to ensure the household is in order. and tonight, he finally gets that chance.

wc. 2k

an. heavily inspired by ayato’s character story where the maids and servants often leave notes for him on his study so that he stays up to date with anything going on in the household I LOVE MY HUSBAND SO MUCH AWHWEHEURUFHDB its also my birthday today (well, it was, like 30mins ago but still) so this is a gift from me to you <3 okay please enjoy !!!

as ayato’s wife, you make sure to take care of the household while your husband attends to official duties. even if these duties take much of his time, you don’t fail to report and update him of any changes or requests made within the household and thanks to his lovely sister, ayaka, you learnt that the estate’s way of filling in the clan head on any news was though writing little notes to stick onto any books that were left open after the commissioner left his study.

as your husband, ayato really should be spending more time with you. everyone around him is aware of the capable and loving wife he has at home. some even whisper underneath their breaths that the lord commissioner is too busy to even have a wife. but he knows that is wrong, he doesn’t leave you unattended. in fact, he showers you in so many gifts (hand creams, hair products, skin care products—the list goes on!) when he knows he’ll be on business for longer than usual. this is how you found two new sets of kimono’s waiting for you on your shared bed. you must admit, they’re gorgeous. the delicate hands of ogura mio never disappoint… you nod your head in agreement to your own thoughts as you hold up the material closer to your face.

a knock on the door snaps you out of your mind.

“yes?”

“y/n? i was wondering if you were free? thoma made some pastries, would you like to—”

you bolt for the shoji before sliding it open with practiced grace. your gentle smile greets ayaka’s cute expectant expression. “of course, ayaka! you know i always have time for you.”

her eyes curl like crescents, boldly looping her arm with yours so she can take you to the area outside the estate’s doors. the evening breeze is cool but it doesn’t make you chilly enough to request a coat.

you and ayaka have always been the best of friends, even before you were wed to ayato. although you were a few years older than her, it did not change the shared frequency you both had when it came to certain hobbies and topics. then one day, you met ayato while he was on official business and you couldn’t deny how composed and… gorgeous that man was on that day. so after silently eyeing each other from across the room of authorities and inazuman nobility, he finally introduced himself, saying “he never had the pleasure of meeting you.”

you both soon grew closer, contacting each other through letters—referring to one another as your “penpal” when really you two were flirting (very, very subtly) on a piece of paper. you both only spoke during events hosted by other noble clan’s or official authorities, which was for the safety of both your reputations because god forbid a rumour that the yashiro commissioner was seeking a wife. imagine the uproar it would cause in inazuma city!

oh, and it certainly did.

as you stack papers upon papers in your husband’s study, you reminisce quietly with a relaxed smile on your face. you take the notes other servants have left and arrange them in categories of: household updates, requests and miscellaneous things. you often find yourself reading through the miscellaneous category of notes the most as they bring a laugh out of you. once you read that a servant politely asked the clan head to watch his step when leaving the study so he would avoid bumping into any potted plants. you remember that day and you remember how you were holding in your laughter at the disaster in the room when thoma showed you.

“my lady, sometimes the lord likes to get ahead of himself so it results in his feet working quicker than his head,” thoma commented as he cleaned the mess of soil and the depressing state of the plant.

you hummed in agreement. “that, i could tell very easily.”

a chuckle leaves your lips as you read through more of the notes from the retainers. “oh dear, these are too much for me.” you cover your mouth to contain your giggles. these people just have the most outlandish things to say! oh well, it is nice to know they aren’t afraid to be honest.

you’re lucky it’s past midnight, when everyone is asleep so they wouldn’t have to hear your muffled giggles.

everyone except for one person.

your husband, of course. who idly stands in the corridor with the shoji being the one thing that separates you two. he listens to how you whisper under your breath as you read the notes, or how you repeat what some of them say due to how amusing they are.

“my lord, your bountiful order of rice cakes will arrive within 3-5 days. until then please refrain from stepping into the kitchen to fi—pfft.” clearly, pursing your lips isn’t enough to keep you from bursting into laughter. “—to fix up your own—oh no, that is absolutely something he would do.”

ayato only realises how much he’s been yearning to hear your voice until now. it’s a shame this is the first time he’s bumped into you on these midnight reviews (he can see the smile on your face as you read the note even when he’s not looking at you, oh how he misses that sweet look on your face). licking his lips lightly, his gloved fingers stealthily slide the shoji open by an inch so the view reveals your figure that is turned back to him. his lavender gaze captures the sight of your hair loose and that you’re wearing the yukata he gifted you two weeks ago. you sit comfortably on his specially made tatami mat too.

sometimes ayato barely even has the time to be in your presence. but this moment right now, where he enjoys your presence without you even knowing, is nice. although the painful drop in his stomach inks him with a tinge of regret, he well understands how his duties must stay a priority. after all, he has a family to protect. ayaka, you, thoma and the retainers. he cannot fail any of you.

ayato purses his lips before he announces his presence with a light thud of the shoji shutting behind him. “hello darling.”

your spine snaps straight up at the sound and the voice. “ayato?” turning around, you watch your husband make his way toward you sitting on his tatami mat. he kneels down beside you before pulling another mat from the side to sit on it.

your mind struggles to process the moment until he is sat down. your movements are paused, two notes from the retainers still held in your hands. “when… did you arrive? it’s pretty early.”

a light chuckle leaves ayato’s lips, “darling, what are you implying? would you rather i leave?” he puts on an expression feigning disappointment, pretending to get up from his seat.

your hands move quickly, halting his act with your warm palm on his knee. “no no, don’t! stay here please.” the hastiness in your voice is accompanied by your wide eyes that have a longingness to them, a longingness that you still struggle to communicate verbally. which is how you end up subconsciously relying on your husband’s perceptiveness to get wind of what you’re feeling without telling him.

he huffs at you fondly, fixing his clothing to sit comfortably on the tatami mat again. then he takes your hand in his hand before you can pull it back. “as you wish, my dear.” he tugs on your hand and you give him a questioning look.

“come closer.”

“o- oh.” your other hand scrunches up the material of your yukata, which ayato totally sees and pretends he doesn’t. little shit. you want to curse because he knows how good he is at making your heart flutter. your body gives into him nonetheless, the longing and yearning for him finally melting into your limbs as you become putty in his arms, sitting in between his legs with both the tatami mats providing your bottom's comfort.

your arms shyly snake around his clothed waist, comfortably wrapping yourself around your husband you missed so much.

ayato lets you do whatever you want, knowing you will indulge in his invitation. sliding his gloves off his fingers, he puts them on the table so that he can feel your body without the obstruction. such a sullied garment that shakes hands with officials, signs documents and motions at retainers to obey his orders simply does not earn the right to hold you.

your head hides in the juncture between his neck and shoulder and he feels your soft breaths against his neck. he gently places his jaw on the crown of your head, finding solace in the embrace as his arms hold onto your smaller body.

the warmth from his palms spread on your skin, calming your nerves instantaneously.

“so is this what you do in my office at this time?”

you hum into his skin, “usually you’re not home by this time so it’s only natural you don’t bump into me when i’m in here.” your breath tickles ayato, a tug playing on his rosy lips at the physical intimacy. “you can imagine how shocked i was when you magically appeared behind me.” your soft giggle fills the room momentarily.

“it’s no wonder that all of my notes are arranged tidily when i return,” ayato chuckles softly, “it’s not to say that they weren’t tidy before but these notes held a certain scent on them that led me to believe that my wife was here prior.” he gently takes your hand that was wrapped around him, pulling it up to plant a kiss on your knuckles.

oh, you definitely felt how he inhaled slightly when his lips touched your knuckles. you glare at him, but there is no anger behind your eyes. “you rascal, you sniff your notes?”

ayato’s grin only widens at the name you call him, enjoying your response to his teasing. “darling, you’re the only one in this estate who wears this scented hand cream. i also personally chose it for you so i had no doubts about it.” he then sighs disappointedly, “though it is a shame this is the first time i’ve caught you in here, what if you stayed longer next time?”

you deadpan at him. “you want me to camp out here in your office?” because with his schedules, you might not even step foot into your bedroom until dawn.

ayato shakes his head, laughing softly at your expression. “don’t say that, you know i rush home every time once i’m finished.”

you pat his shoulder, putting on an act of sympathy before exhaling to feign exasperation. “and you will find me in our bedroom once you’re done.”

“y/n!” your husband almost whines, his brows creasing sorrowfully.

his expression doesn’t improve until you’ve kissed every inch of his pretty face, and only then does the corner of his lip curl up. with your hands cupping his face, he opens an eye to peek over at you ready to give him another smooch, consequently making you pause.

“are you satisfied, my lord?”

“hm, perhaps another one—over here.” ayato ponders for a moment before tapping his index finger on his own cheek. he closes his eyes yet again to await your kiss.

it does not arrive.

so he opens his eyes again, mouth ready to pester you with complaints for not granting him your divine kisses but just as he does, you’re up in his face to place that kiss he was waiting for on his cheek.

“there you go, happy?”

“most unbelievably.” his voice is soft, tender, almost a whisper. but clear enough for your ears to catch it. ayato stares at you with these eyes that tempt you into looking away. the loving and affectionate gaze of those lilac eyes, paired with that gentle curl of his pink, moistened lips is reserved, just for you. he takes your hands in his again, lifting one of them to place another ardent kiss on your knuckles.

“especially since it’s you, the one i return to.”

#kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #ayato fluff #kamisato ayato fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff

2K notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

mindcontrol-owl

Untitled

serinmatheson1

relatos-cruising-hot

relatos chilenos

atesan

nor would the wind ever return to him again

eviermore

@swiftupload