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miller-n-morgan · 1 day

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And I Feel Fine (.ii)

Joel Miller x Jackson!Reader

18+, mdni

Summary: A new journey lies ahead, and on the very first night you become sure of something that will completely change the trajectory of your entire future.

Warnings: leaving most of the warnings the same because they apply. mentions of death, violence, gore, blood, mentions of sex abuse and trafficking. Mentions of teenage pregnancy. Mention of drugs and substances. Again, literally has ✨️the works.✨️

Word Count: 7k (i'm going absolutely wild)

Now we're cookin'.... enjoy this slice of my brain that I spent entirely too long on. And also know that the first part of the Arthur Morgan series will probably drop this week.

“I ain’t shittin’ you.” You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business. “And what makes you think that?” You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him.

Your contact had gotten you to an apartment. It was worn down, just as every other place in the QZ seemed to be, but it was better taken care of. The people living here must have been attentive about the appearance of their home. A good enough family to leave your baby with.

She stopped you in the hallway, knocking three times on the old wood door, hearing a lively voice from the otherside before it opened. The woman standing there was lovely, about thirty or so, a half smile on her face when she saw you both had arrived. This plan had been in the works for some time now.

“Hello, I’m Maxine Williams,” she greeted, reaching for your hand to shake. You did your best to match her kind and infectious energy, giving her a smile in return. She is after all going to be doing you the favor of a lifetime.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, keeping your head low between your shoulders, though you felt comfortable in her presence.

She leaned into your contact, turning her head, but you heard the whisper “She’s so young…”

“S’why she needs help.”

You understood that this didn’t look right. You should not be pregnant at your tender age, should not have been put in this position. You’ve seen more horrific things than any person ever should, and it all started when you were eight… outbreak day.

“Of course… come in, both of you.”

The pleasantries went on for a while, exchanging information of where you came from, why you were in this area, what you did before being in Boston. She mentioned her husband, her two sons and their love for older things, wishing for the world the way it was. It was all just small talk, leading up to the actual conversation topic: the baby she was about to take off your hands.

“You’ll stay with us until the birth, if that’s okay,” she offered, but it sounded more like a demand. It wasn’t a harsh or cruel one. Even if you slept on the rickety couch you were lounging upon now, it would be better than camping in the woods, sleeping on the hard ground like you’d been doing only a month ago.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

Your contact was happy to see both ends so receptive. She’d never seen a deal containing human life go down this smoothly. Probably because this was a bit more sensitive of an exchange.

“Good… that’s good. I’ve heard you’re interested in a closed adoption?”

You glanced down at your stomach, feeling the weight of it, crushing inwards on the rest of your body. Having this baby and giving it away will relieve the weight both physically and metaphorically. They’ll be in good hands, better than your own could ever be.

“I think it’s probably best. I used to have siblings, but I never really took care of them… I’m not sure I could do this,” You shook your head. You saw her younger son peeking his head out of the bedroom door in the corner, backing away as soon as you caught him. Even in an apocalypse, a child can be happy… just not with you. “I want to give them their best chance.”

“I understand… and we’re going to do our best to make sure they have a normal childhood,” she responded, leaning forward and placing a comforting hand on your knee.

“Thank you…”

You had sat down on one of the containment units, feeling as though the adrenaline rush from the ambush was beginning to wear off. Tommy found Maria not far away from where you were sitting, and began to ask his special favor. It was crazy, he knew it, you knew it… but it had to be done. This girl was somehow important, to the fireflies and to all of mankind, and you were starting to wonder why. Joel hadn’t said a word, sitting across from you and awaiting the news that would surely come from his brother’s discussion with his wife.

“So, you’ve been traveling with Ellie?”

He looked up at you from his boot laces, his eyes were heavy, and he didn’t seem in the mood to talk. He was grumpy in nature, but you could tell there was more underneath the tough exterior.

“I have.” And no further explanation was given.

You didn’t think it was best to keep trying your luck, keep on asking him questions. He wasn’t the talking type and you figured you’d be wasting your time… but speak of the devil, Ellie came up to him just as the conversation between Tommy and Maria was getting heated.

“What’s that all about?” She nodded in their direction. She looked scared, like a deer caught in headlights, just not as frozen. Wide eyed and unable to look away from the scene. “Does that have anything to do with me?”

She was smart, she’d pick up on the words they were saying - more like yelling - to each other. The context clues were there, Joel would have to be an idiot to think she’d just let him off the hook.

“We’ll talk about it later…” he grumbled, his annoyance already at a high from your unimportant questions and the fighting in the background.

“Did he tell you where the lab is?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she got even closer to hear them.

The lab? Is that where the fireflies would be? You vaguely remember the days you spent with the resistance group, but you don’t remember anything about a lab…

“We’ll talk about it later,” he repeated himself, almost as a warning.

She turned to Tommy and Maria, then back to Joel, her face one of distrust and sadness. She knew, she could tell. Joel was trying to get rid of her.

You wanted to say something, to jump in and tell her that she didn’t need to be scared, didn’t need to be worried about where she was going. That you would go with her and it would be okay… but that wouldn’t help a damn thing. Even if you turn out to be her biological mother, you are most definitely not her mom, and cannot console her as one.

“Later… right,” she trailed, backing away from Joel and off to another sectional of the checkpoint.

Joel looked back to you, your eyes already on him.

He sighed, at first not saying a word… but when he made a full rotation of his eyeline and you were still staring holes into him, he had to speak up.

“If you’re lookin’ to judge me, then just-.”

“I’m not.”

Your interruption cut him off, and he didn’t really know what else to say. He nodded, not looking away from you, but rather trying to figure out what it is you needed from him. Your stare was not discomforting but it felt demanding. It wanted something.

“How long have you known her?” You finally spit out, tucking a leg under your elbow as you sat back. You knew you’d gotten his attention, now.

“Few months, now. I’m supposed to take her to the fireflies as a favor to someone.”

“What do the fireflies want with a fourteen year old kid?”

He sighed, raising his shoulders in a shrug like he didn’t know. He must’ve been lying, right? You’d gotten pretty good at reading people, but for some reason you couldn’t tell with him. Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough…

“M’not really sure. All I knew in the beginning was that I could get paid pretty well, so I took her.”

You nodded. He didn’t seem like the person that did things for the sake of them, Tommy had told you stories about him, the things he used to do. If it was for his survival, he’d do it… but just for the sake of getting paid? When barely anything left had real monetary value? It sounded like bullshit.

“She seems to trust you an awful lot,” you gestured between him and the empty space she’d left.

There was another beat of silence, to which he didn’t use for reply. Instead he sat, his back curled over and his shoulders sunken inwards. He was tired, he was worn. He needed to rest, but this life wouldn’t let him.

“She knows you’re handing her off…”

“I reckon she does, yeah.”

And right over your shoulder you heard the climax of Tommy and Maria’s argument. She held a pointed finger in his face, before he finally insisted on Joel’s plan. She couldn’t move him. He was going to do this whether she liked it or not… which is something you haven’t seen out of Tommy for years. Joel must mean a hell of a lot to him, to up and leave Maria on a dangerous errand like this.

You stay seated when Maria walks over to Joel, and then when Joel stands up to talk to Tommy. You stay seated and think… I can keep Tommy safe. I’ve got nothing to lose, and everything to gain from learning about this girl. I can bring him home to Maria, even if it means my life.

But you immediately stand when you hear Tommy’s rapid speech. “That girl of yours. she took one of our horses and rode off,” and then he glanced at you with an eyeroll. “She took provoker…”

You huffed a sigh, following the men over to the front of the sectional, the open trail up ahead. Maria was mad at Tommy, so obviously she wouldn’t be accompanying them… and that left you. Casper didn’t like men.

“Damnit, which way?” Joel asked, his steps were heavy on the muddy ground.

“I just saw her riding out of here!” Terry yelled, loosening the reins on two more horses he’d brought over for assistance.

“Alright, get back inside, help the others clean the place up,” Tommy told the man, nodding for you to mount the back of his horse after he’d climbed up himself. You chanced a look at Joel, riding across from you both. His face was mixed with anger and determination, and it reminded you of what Tommy looked like after hours of hunting. They were the epitome of brothers, though you’d never met the other half before.

You all followed the tracks, leading every which way it seemed. Some of the tracks were fresh, and some were older, but it was hard to tell when the grounds here were moist all the time, never really drying up and creating lasting prints on the dirt.

After a while of riding, and running into some raiders - who were easily fended off - you saw your horse standing in front of an old farmhouse, the reins tied to a pole holding up the roof of the porch. You jumped from Tommy’s mare and ran up to Casper, petting his mane and making sure he was alright. There didn’t seem to be a scratch on him.

You watched Joel enter the house, waiting back with Tommy. Even though Joel was the one she ran away from, you couldn’t imagine she’d be thrilled to see you or Tommy instead. Joel had a good reason to do what he did. He didn’t feel strong enough or fast enough for this job anymore. He didn’t feel like he could keep her safe. You unfortunately understood that feeling a little too well, and if you were correct on your suspicions, it would have been with the exact same kid.

Tommy unstrapped his gun from his back, holding it steady and watching the surroundings whilst he leaned against the porch beam you were standing by. He was trying to gage whether or not your horse was calm enough for him to approach you closer, knowing what would happen if he wasn’t.

“I think you’re right, you know…” He trailed, his voice quiet on the off chance of an open window.

“You do?”

You turned to him, you didn’t exactly have to think twice about what he meant.

“Yeah,” he nodded, a chuckle falling from his lips. “It makes sense… the timing n’ everything. She looks a hell of a lot like you… and she’s caused about as much trouble today as the first time I met you.”

“Causing trouble is genetic?” You laughed, your eyes watering a bit at the implications he made. She might be yours. Your daughter, who you didn’t think you’d see again.

“Hell, it might be. Your kinda trouble, anyway… stealin’ horses and shit.”

The nod of your head was slow, the thought of this all sinking in. It made perfect sense and yet coming to terms with the facts of ‘it is’ instead of ‘it could be’ makes you feel light headed.

You didn’t know if he was being serious or if he was just trying to make you feel better, but the look on his face told you the former. He wouldn’t just lie to you, he knew you could read him.

“I keep turning it over in my head, tryin’ to think of ways I could prove it to myself… I think just seein’ her was enough for me. I’m remembering things I thought I forgot about a long time ago.”

Now it was his turn to nod, but your moment was caught short when you heard a branch snap around the corner. You instinctively pulled your gun from your pants, holding it out in the direction the snap came from. Tommy raised his rifle, doing the same and gesturing for you to go inside. You both made it in the doorway before the threat made itself known. Two guys, coming around the corner. They hadn’t realized you were watching them yet, but they did a quick scan, making sure there wasn’t any immediate danger.

“Get upstairs,” he said in a whisper, but you snapped your head to face him.

“No way, the odds are even if I stay,” you argued, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for a fight right now. It was too risky to have you both down here.

“Go tell Joel to get his ass down here, you stay up with the kid.”

“Like hell I’m going up there. Your brother scares me,” you say in a half joking mumble, keeping watch on the two strangers that were now surrounding your horse. They were about to get kicked in the ass if they didn’t step away.

Tommy realizes that them being distracted gives a good amount of time to leave without cover.

“Alright, but you first,” he shrugged a shoulder towards the staircase, and with one last glance to your horse, you left your corner by the window.

You quickly ran up the stairs, ducking a head in a few rooms before finding the one Joel and Ellie were in.

“Get it together, we’re not alone,” Tommy said as soon as you got inside the door.

“I got two walking in,” Joel leaned towards the sliding window to get some eyes on the situation.

“There’s more inside already…”

You backed against the door, Tommy against the dresser on the opposite side. Joel stepped over in front of you, and Ellie behind Tommy. You didn’t realize until now, but taking a glance at Ellie, she looked even worse than when she left. Her face was sullen and her head was dropped. She didn’t seem to be snapping into reality, even with the weight of the situation.

You stayed by her throughout the house, when Tommy and Joel started shooting, you stood in front of her, covering them from back behind. It was weird, these maternal feelings that had never sparked within you before, only now arising for this specific human that had no clue who you were.

Once outside, it seemed strange. The dynamic between the four of you was so incredibly awkward. Everyone was thinking on a different topic, and the silence could echo on for miles. You nodded for Ellie to mount the back of your horse, since she didn’t seem comfortable to ride with Joel for the time being. She climbed up behind you and for a second you smiled, because this is your daughter, you know it… but soon after, your mind quickly succumbed to the general silence.

The nature and scenery surrounding you seemed to be duller than before, the pretty autumnal colors becoming ugly in the sense that you didn’t appreciate them right now. You loved the beginning of fall, but the feelings spread among you are tense and terrible, worse than raking up the fallen leaves before winter.

The feeling never leaves, it stays until you all reach the edge of the town.

“I’m not hungry,” you swore, shoving the extra plate of food away from your placemat.

Manxine’s husband was hungry, and you’d noticed him and his wife being decent enough to give you some of their food the past few days. It wasn’t necessary, because you weren’t working, and you weren’t barely helping them. They were helping you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Taking extra food that wasn’t just lying around felt like stealing. You’d never been a stranger to it before, but these people were far too kind, too gentle. They made you feel like maybe the world wasn’t completely at its end. It still turned, and people were still good, despite everything.

“Yes you are, and you should be,” Maxine pushed the plate back in front of you. Her goal had been to ‘put a little meat on your bones’ as long as you were under her roof.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Promise or no promise, you need to eat more. You’re still too thin to try and survive childbirth, ya hear?” She put the old fork back into your open hand, and you sighed. It was sometimes hard to eat more than you normally did, on the account of your body not being used to it. If you ate more than usual would it make you sick? If you threw up the extra rations they were spotting you, you’d feel terrible, but she kept insisting.

You opened your mouth to take a bite, swallowing it down and feeling the slight discomfort start to settle. Already you’d been eating a lot more than before the QZ, and you didn’t realize how slowly your appetite would have to grow.

After a few more bites you had to drop the fork to your plate, feeling too full already to keep on. You felt terrible, refusing extra portions that were meant to keep you healthy. Whether or not it was caused by the pregnancy hormones, or just your own emotional breakdown, you weren’t sure… but you started tearing up while sitting at the table.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, covering your mouth and sitting back while the tears rolled down.

“Don’t you apologize, sweetheart,” Maxine uttered softly, her presence at your side immediately.

To her, none of this effort was wasted, or overdone. She and her husband, though some of the better off people in the QZ by job merritt, couldn’t seem to have another baby. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, or stress that they couldn’t afford it. It was simply the fact that after six years from their last child, they couldn’t conceive another. This baby, your baby, was going to be a gift to them. They were happy to take any necessary steps into getting you to childbirth.

“I just can’t eat anymore,” you tried to justify your emotions, but now it only looked like an overreaction. People are dying without food, and here you are, crying about there being too much.

“It’s alright. Leftovers don’t go to waste in this house,” she spoke, a bit of a chuckle in her tone, which alleviated some of the pressure you felt.

“Okay,” you nodded, letting her take your plate to the other room, likely where her husband had retired to.

The campfire was crackling, the smoke filling the hazy navy color of the dark sky. Trees had covered it mostly, but there were a few stars peaking here and there. You’d just finished a can of chicken soup, tossing it on the pile that had been started by the others. It was crazy, how you suddenly remembered so much, just by eating food out of a can again. Days on the run, with the fireflies, being a raider even… it all came back.

It had only been a few hours or so since leaving Jackson, but after the fiasco of today, the three of you had gotten extremely tired a lot earlier than you should have.

The three of you meaning: Yourself, Joel and Ellie.

After the silence of the horse ride back to the commune, something had changed. Joel realized not only what Ellie meant to him, but what he means to Ellie. He’d decided Tommy was no longer required, and that he could fare the journey on his own. Of course, you immediately volunteered an extra pair of hands and a quick gun as assistance. To your surprise, it was Ellie who was your greatest advocate. Her, and the fact that you remembered the lab’s location, could probably get her there on your own if you had to.

The mirror building… you don’t remember it being a lab, but as soon as Tommy said the words it jogged your memory.

Now you were here, sitting with your back against a log, and staring holes into the shoulder of a fourteen year old girl.

“Whatch’u lookin’ at?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he lazily reclined against a tree.

You only looked away for a second, too fixated on what was just barely peeking over the collar of Ellie’s shirt and jacket. It had fallen down a bit when she laid down to sleep.

“Nothin’,” you shrugged it off. He was a man of few words, surely he’d drop it on account of having to speak more if he didn’t… but God help him, he’s like a damn cat, his curiosity could kill him.

“You’re very focused on nothin’,” he teased. There was something off about you with Ellie, he’d taken notice of it. He didn’t know what it was about but it didn’t seem like a danger.

You rolled your eyes over to him, but could tell by his glance back that he wouldn’t quit. He’d already volunteered to take the first watch, and he had nothing else better to do.

“It’s a long story, you’d get bored.”

But again, he had nothing better to do.

“Try me,” he raised his shoulders in a shrug of his own. He seemed much more docile of a creature in this setting. The early hours of night, so quiet, and dimly lit. His voice was gentle and his features were soft. He was relaxed.

You took a deep inhale, trying to brace yourself for whatever came of this. He was a fresh face, someone new to explain an old wound to. The scar had finally healed and you were about to dig a blade back through and rip it open… but you suppose you’d sharpened the knife by coming along in the first place.

“I think Ellie’s my daughter,” you breathed out, not checking for a reaction until he’d been silent too long. His eyes were narrow, and he tilted his head, looking between you two. She was fast asleep by now, but he had a picture of her in his head, comparing it to you.

“You’re shittin’ me, right?”

You blew out another long breath, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know this feeling you have or the fact that you’ve never felt it before. He doesn’t understand that you’d come to peace with the fact that you’d never see her again, and then she appeared like a ghost from your past. You thought she was your past self at first, taunting you, making fun of who you were now.

“I ain’t shittin’ you.”

You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business.

“And what makes you think that?”

You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him.

You let your eyes flick up to the stars, hoping by some miracle they will fall from the heavens in the form of angels to give you a message, that message being: shut the fuck up and don’t spill your guts to a man you met this morning.

“When I was thirteen, I was by myself. I fell into a weird group of people that could probably be considered a cult. There was this one guy that treated me better than the others…” you trailed off, not sure if you’re ready to rehash all of this. But it’s been a long time since you talked about it. You need to get it off your chest if you’re to somehow make a relationship with the product of your past. “He was in his twenties, so a lot younger than most people in the group. Pretty sure I was the youngest. I didn’t realize he was using me.”

Joel was tense, but not because he was uncomfortable… he was genuinely invested. Wanted to know this story and how it connected with Ellie. His Ellie.

“We left the group, and I found out I was pregnant a few months later. I’d barely had my cycle a fucking year… wasn’t even sure what it meant when I didn’t get it. Anyways,” you had to stifle a laugh, because just looking back… what the actual hell? You kept blinking to make sure no tears escaped in front of this man. You weren’t there yet with him. “I think he just lost all interest in me after that. He didn’t really speak to me unless it was necessary, and wouldn't look at me. Stuff like that.”

But that wasn’t the worst part, and Joel knew you were working your way up to it.

“Before I was pregnant I used to sneak into places most people couldn’t. I was real skinny like that. Was able to smuggle stuff in and out of different QZs across the country. We peddled rare narcotics for the most part… but I had to stop when I, you know…” you made a round hand motion around your stomach, hoping he got the jist. “I didn’t fit in the smaller spaces.”

“What kind of narcotics?” Joel finally asked a question, and it wasn’t really the one you were hoping for… but you understood he’d probably fallen into the same scheme over the years.

“Vicodin, mostly. Up in Princeton there was this one apartment… we’d searched it top to bottom because of how many secret hiding places there were. Vicodin everywhere. Whoever lived there was either severely addicted or preparing for the worst.”

“Maybe both.”

Yeah, probably. Damn shame he never got to use them.

“We used it as a trading token most of the time. It was actually what got us into Boston,” you waved off your tangent eventually, getting back to the story and where Ellie came in. “Pretty much gave the rest of our stash to a contact we had there… she got us a family we could hand the baby off to.”

And now he got it. You’d been knocked up by a predator, and said predator wanted you to give up the baby so he could go about using you some more. He’d seen and done some cruel things in a post apocalyptic world, but he would never stoop that low, and grimaced at anyone who possibly could.

“I had her when I was fourteen. Lookin’ at her today was like looking in a mirror,” you rambled on, still not quite to your point. “She’s the right age, from the right location… and that birthmark on her shoulder…”

He hadn’t even noticed it all this time. Months with the kid, and he thought nothing of it. But to you, it was clarification. It was the confirming piece of evidence that pulled it all together. You’d barely taken your eyes off of it since you saw it. You wanted to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Wanted to make sure it was the right shape and placement, just so you could be sure.

He nodded, seemingly coming to this conclusion now, too. It didn’t take him any more convincing. It was clear by now that your hunch was not just a hunch.

“Her dad, he still… around?”

You shook your head with a light hearted laugh.

“No,” and you could have left it with that simple answer… but that was never much your style. “I shot him in the head.”

His low whistle cut the air, and you almost felt proud. You’d killed the one thing in life that ever hurt you directly.

“He deserved worse.”

“Yeah, he did.”

And then it was quiet for a minute, all the words the two of you had spoken up until now were rotating over and around in your heads to make sense of them, until he spoke up again.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispered.

“S’okay. Not your fault…” you shook it off. It’s in the past, it’s done.

“Not yours either,” he replied, raising a brow to you. “M’just, sorry you went through that.”

He was soft, he was gentle. You supposed he was like Tommy. He didn’t judge you or make you feel inferior because of your tragic mishappenings. He just listened, and felt sympathy.

“I don’t mind it so much now… I got her back.”

And both your gazes shifted to the sleeping teenager, her breaths steady with the humming of the night around you. She has no clue, and for now you’ll have to keep it that way.

Yeah, you think… I got her back.

It only took two weeks. Riding, eating, sleeping, and talking, rinse and repeat. There was the odd occasion of dealing with infected, but they were never in large groups, and cleared out easily.

You remembered exactly where to go when you entered the city limits, guiding them towards the college campus you once lived in as a firefly. It was almost ten years ago, but you remember it pretty well. It’s where you met Tommy. Not in the lab, obviously. You’d both been put on security detail one morning, having never met beforehand. He proceeded to ‘teach you’ how to shoot a rifle properly, only to find you could hit a perfect bullseye on your first shot. Probably because your dad was a man who loved his guns, and you’d been shooting one since you were a kid before the outbreak. He laughed about it, and you two were friends ever since.

“Are you getting any of this?” Ellie asked you, pulling you from your thoughts as you rode alongside them.

For the last hour, Joel was attempting - and failing - to explain the rules of football to the young Miss Ellie. And she didn’t understand one lick of it, not that you blame her. You’d been to actual football games in your youth, but you couldn’t get it even then.

“Nope, I was always more of a baseball fan…” you trailed, and smiled at the thought. Baseball was fun, you remember it well. It was your biggest obsession right before ballet, and right after fingerpainting.

“Oh really, now?” Joel cut in, his surprise evident in his raised eyebrow and tilted gaze in your direction.

“Yep. You’re looking at the MVP of the Acorn’s jr. little league team.”

Ellie laughed. She didn’t know a thing about baseball either. She’d seen some old collectors cards though here and there. Apparently they used to be valuable. They were only knick knacks to anyone who saw them now.

“What position did you play?”

“Shortstop… or second base, technically. No shortstop in jr. little league,” you admitted. Your dad always called you shortstop, so that’s what you tell people now. Anyone who asks, at least. You can count on one hand the number of people who have.

“Seein’ you around infected… I bet you swung like hell,” he chuckled. Ellie was still confused about the rules of the last sport, much less how to play this one… but she listened intently because Joel was interested, so she was interested too.

“I always got on base, didn’t always stay there, but always got on. Plus, I was the only kid who never picked their nose at the plate, so… Obviously I earned my title.”

“That must’ve been an amazing accomplishment. How old were you?”

From what he understood, you’d been eight on outbreak day. You couldn’t have been too much younger to have started a sport, right?

“Probably six or seven at the time. I did ballet after, had kind of a short attention span when it came to after school activities,” you explained, a smile on your cheeks when you spoke about the things you used to love doing. You probably would still like doing some of them, had they been an option in Jackson.

“I know about ballet!” Ellie jumped in, nearly scaring Joel off the horse. “That’s the dancers that used to wear those weird shoes and shit.”

“Pointe shoes?” You chuckled, more at Joel trying to compose himself than Ellie’s funny recollection of footwear.

“Yeah, those. They looked like torture devices in some of the paintings I saw… did you ever wear any?”

“No, I would have had to train for about five more years to have gotten to that point. That was the dream at the time, to be a pointe ballerina. Of course, the end of the world happened…”

Joel turned to you from his forwards facing stare, a sadness in his eyes before he looked back onto the road ahead of him. Was that… pity? You were slowly learning to read him, his little mannerisms and tells that made him like everyone else, yet just a tad different, in a way that only he could be.

“Maybe after all this is over you can teach me some steps,” she suggested, but you scoffed.

“Maybe,” you shook your head at how funny the thought sounded in your head. You’d only danced for what? Ten months at most? And as an eight year old? “I think you’ll probably be too busy with Joel’s guitar lessons.”

She laughed it off, shaking her head and leaning it back onto Joel’s shoulder in front of her. The three of you kept along until reaching the building you remembered, but instantly it was a disappointment. The fireflies weren’t here, and likely hadn’t been for over a year.

“This isn’t right. There should be a checkpoint set up and a security blockade surrounding the place,” you mentioned, getting off your horse and running up to the door in the front. You peeked inside, and there was no sign of life anywhere.

“You’re kidding,” Ellie grumbled.

Joel dismounted the horse and followed after you, looking around and trying to find any signs that they might have been here at all.

“You sure this is the right place?”

“Positive. I remember this building, I met Tommy right over there,” you pointed down the sidewalk, where a half torn down barricade of cement was still sitting, but just barely. You walked to the corner of the crumbling stairs and grabbed a piece of old broken up brick, chucking it through the front door in order to unlock it.

Joel chuckled for a moment at your frustration, watching the scene play out.

“Baseball… right,” he teased, leading the way inside with you and Ellie in tow.

Maxine’s boys were at Fedra school. Her husband was at work in a different sector. Maxine herself was trading ration cards for supplies. It was the first time she’d left the apartment since you’d been there, and of all days, of all mornings for it to happen… your water broke.

You were alone, and scared. You weren’t allowed to leave the apartment for fear of the neighbor’s suspicion. Maxine’s family would be torn apart by Fedra if anyone found out what was going on, so no matter how terrified you were, you couldn’t risk going outside for help.

“Not now,” you cried, the tension in the pit of your stomach slowly turning to pain when your first contraction started. “Please, kid, I’m begging.”

You suck down against the wall of the living room, trying to find a sitting position that doesn't kill you from the pain. You wished more than anything you had some of those pain pills left over from the exchange, but they would probably only hurt you right now.

“Please, don’t,” you tried to even your breathing, the tears crawling down your cheeks at a fastening rate. “I can’t do this…”

The walls were closing in, you weren’t prepared for this. It didn’t seem to be the right time, either… but it was happening, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it. The baby was coming, and if you wanted to live to see another day, you were going to have to get your head straight, and push it out of you.

You didn’t know how long you’d have, but from the time your water broke to the last contraction, things were moving relatively quickly. You were still on the ground against the wall, biting down on the sleeve of your shirt to try and not make noise.

You hoped and prayed that you would not deliver this baby on your own, but it looked like that was your only option right now. They had all left around an hour ago, they would be gone all day.

“I don’t know what to do, kid… help me out here,” you cried out again, but the baby didn’t exactly listen. You felt more weight bearing down on your lower half by the minute, and all you could do was panic.

It had happened so fast, the attack. Too fast, nothing you guys could have prepared for. It was all within minutes, and the ringing in your ears following your last gunshot seemed to put everything in slow motion. The way Ellie was yelling but you couldn’t hear it, the man that was coming up from behind you, and the one that was wrestling with Joel near the edge of the rail.

Too fast, the man on your rear grabbed at you and pulled backwards, keeping you from being able to stop Joel’s attacker… You got trapped in a headlock, a gun to your temple, and another man was about to get Ellie. Joel and his attacker broke through the railing, tumbling over the edge and falling into God knows what. You sunk deadweight in the man’s arms, letting Ellie shoot him with her raised gun before you shot the man coming for her.

She ran to the edge first, freezing as she looked down. You followed and peered over, unsure what you would see.

“Shit,” you lowered yourself to a sitting position before scooting off the edge and dropping down to where he was. Your voice was in a panic “Joel?”

He was alive, but fatally injured if you didn’t get him out of here right now.

“I’m gonna need you to pull,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth. His face was scrunched in pain, and you knew better than anyone how hard it was to stay quiet when you’re hurting that bad.

“You could bleed out,” you shook your head, kneeling down and flinging off your backpack. Digging through, you only have the most basic of supplies… nothing substantial enough to stop mass amounts of blood, or, worst case scenario, a deadly infection.

“Just pull, damnit,” he grunted, offering his hand.

By now Ellie had come down, watching in fear as the only figure of importance in her life was nearly on his deathbed. It couldn’t be exaggerated because it really was that bad. He could drop down at any moment and never get back up, but he kept pushing on.

You did as he asked, hoisting him to a stand, letting him lean on you for support. Ellie went on ahead, leading the way as she cleared the place with her own gun. You had to assist here and there, unwilling to let Ellie get shot on account of holding Joel up on his feet.

It was practically a miracle that any of you made it outside. Your horse had already taken care of a raider, it seemed, the man lying unconscious on the ground behind him. He likely got to close, touched him, even. Ellie shot the last obstacle standing between you and an escape, and once he was cleared, you mounted your horses, helping Joel onto his, first.

You rode in front of them, looking for a place to take shelter. Looking for an empty house, or gas station even. Anything would work, as long as it was safer than here. You rode for miles down the road, unsure if there were people in the area. You’d finally reached a neighborhood of substantial size, with no signs of life or proof of human activity.

But before you could even find a safe shelter…

“Joel? Joel!”

And you quickly turned around. Joel fell off the horse, out like a light.

Tags: @orcasoul

#joel miller #reader insert #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #joel

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lotte22324 · 2 days

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Hi, this is my first Oneshot ever and I am kinda nervous for yall to see it. This idea randomly popped into my head, I don’t know why.

Also, English is not my first language, so please ignore the mistakes.

Warnings: mentioning of the case and connected SA (but only in the beginning)

Summary: You are a profiler at the BAU. You specialise in linguistic analysis and also in having a pretty cutsie style. You and Spencer are both working late on a case and his stupid long hair annoys him but you luckily got some hairclips with you :)

(These are the bows that I am talking about btw)

You and the team were on the way to Cleveland, attending to a particularly disturbing case. Multiple mutilated victims were found, all indicated signs of sexual assault, post mortem. All of them were women but none of them looked alike. The only thing that they had in common were the position in which they were found. They all were layed down carefully with their arms crossed above their chest.

"The arms are a sign of remorse right?“

"Yeah, it’s clear that the killer has a conflicted conscience in the connection to the murders.“ said Reid. You turned your head to the right side to see your fellow profiler. His hair was long, longer than ever before, he was wearing a purple dress shirt with s simple tie. His converse were matching to yours, the only thing in common with your wardrobe. You were wearing a skyblue blouse with a dark blue pair of pants. The outfit was professional, the hair not so much. You wore two hairclips in the front of your hair because they would often fall in front of your face which annoyed you. The clips had two pink bows attached to them and they matched your pink earrings and nails.

"If the unsub feels guilty about the murders, we might be able to convince him to give himself up“ remarked JJ. Emily looked at her skeptical and held up the letter that the unsub left at the last crime scene, one of six: She will never stop, only I can fix it! "This says otherwise“

"It is weird that he shows signs of remorse but he also seems extremely certain of his resason to murder, what does he need to fix?“ asked Reid while he knitted his eyebrows together, like he always did when he was thinking. It looked too cute, you couldn’t stop the smile creeping up on your face. "Linguistically, it’s clear that the "she“ that he speaks of is one specific person, probably some sort of authority figure for him, probably a mother“ you remarked. Hotchner nodded his head, a plan already in mind. "Y/l/n you will do a linguistic profile, try to find a pattern or identification marks in all of the letters. Reid, look at the geographical pattern, the locations where the bodies were found might give us a clue where the unsub lives. Morgan and Rossi, you two go to the last crime scene, Emily, you and I will interview the families. Lets catch this guy!“

„I guess your stuck with me at the precinct, pretty boy!“ you said playfully to Reid but all he did was blush and turn his head awkwardly to the side. Morgan shoot him a knowing look but you didn’t think about it too much.

Later that evening, you and Reid were the only ones left in the room designated for your investigation. A hot cup of coffee was standing in front of you, you knew you were in for a long nighty You had been looking at these letters for hours on end, trying to find identifying markers. The only thing that became apparent is that the letters and the murders are definitely about the unsubs mother. They were all about 60, the letters showed clear signs of conflicted hatred and love toward the mother and connected abuse. Maybe she hit him or she was just a very dominant personality who commanded all the men in her life and broke their will if she needed to. Reid was also standing in front of his map for the last few hours, rearranging the pins and drawing new circles and xes on it. Looking over, you did not see a clear pattern at all but maybe his genius brain could make sense of all of the colors on the board. Your eyes shifted from the map to him and the way he kept adjusting his hair. He wanted to tuck it behind his ears but it fell into his face again and again. "Ugh, why? Maybe I need to cut my hair again“ he mumbled annoyed. "Nooo, please don’t! I like your hair like this“ you answered quickly. "But its always in my face and whenever I tuck it back, it falls in front of it again“ Reid remarked, pushing his hair back aggressively. But all it did was fall back infront of his ear and Reid let out an annoyed groan. You stood up and moved towards the man: "here, take one of my clips! My hair is long enough so that I can easily tuck it behind my ear“ you said, quickly taking one of the bows out of your hair. As you kept going, the clip in your hand, he looked at you skeptical: "thank you, y/n but I don’t think that would suit me as much as it suits you“

You blushed involuntarily at that indirect compliment, "oh come on, no one is here anymore, you won’t be less of a man if you wear this pink bow in your hair!“ you rolled your eyes as you halted infront of him with a questioning look. „Okay, fine“ he hesitantly answered and you gave him a reassuring smile. You leaned forward, pushing his hair back as you clip in the pink bow. You felt how soft his hair was. As you let your hand trail down his head, you let it linger a bit too long. Just as Spencer cleared his throat, you realized that and let your hand fall quickly to your side. "All done, you look cute“ you blushed as you took a step back. But your blush didn’t compare to his. The minute he saw himself in the reflection of the glass board where he drew his map on, his face turned as red as a tomato. The pink bow clearly on display, matching to yours. Now not only your shoes were matching but also your hair. "Uh, thank you y/n“ he said after a while. But you didn’t even realize what he said because all you could do was stare at him. He had never looked this cute in his life. Not with his glasses, not with any of his haircuts. You felt a fluttering feeling in your tummy. Here he was, Spencer Reid, wearing your pink bow in his hair. You couldn’t believe the sight you were witnessing. Even though you didn’t have an eidetic memory, you would never forget this. As you kept starring at his face, your brain filling with all the accessories of yours Reid could wear, he kept staring right back. But instead of thinking about all the different hair clips you had, he couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty you looked. The slight blush that spread over your face, the blown pupils as they were looking at him. The way your mouth was slightly opened, the curve of your lips perfectly kissable.

"Yo, I forgot my-" Morgan stepped insight, both of you taking a step back, not realizing in the moment how close you two were standing and looking embarrassed towards Morgan. "Uhm, sorry for…disturbing, I just forgot my wallet here“ he said, moving toward the table. Your eyes shifted, there it was, lying underneath all the letters you had just looked at. "Alright, have a good night you two! Pretty bow, Reid, your lil girlfriend should lend you her things more often“ Morgan winked as he walked out of the room. Both of you stood there in silence, looking down onto the floor. Spencer raised his hand in embarrassment and tried to detangle the bow from his hair. "Noo, you look so pretty with it Spencer, you shouldn’t give a damn about Morgans opinion!“ you reassured him. He gave you a smile as his hand slowly fell down. "You know that is not fair“ Reid remarked. "What isn’t fair?" You looked confused. "Well, I would wear anything as long as you think i‘m pretty even if that would be the most impractical thing on this planet.“

"That can’t be true!“ you laughed.

"Do you remember four months ago when we saw that shampoo ad on some billboard in Texas with a man on it with long, shiny hair?“

Honest to god, you really didn’t. "Uhm, not really…“

"Well, you said that you love men with long hair and it seemed like you looked right at me. I, obviously had short hair at that time. But from that moment on, I decided to let my hair grow longer“ Spencer confessed.

"You grew your hair long because of me? Because I said that I find men with long hair prettier? That makes no sense, why would you care what I think about y-" then it hit you. He wanted you to find him attractive. He wanted you to see him as pretty. You took a step towards him, his gaze avoiding you, he seemed more focused on his shoes than on you. "Reid" you said quietly, him still not looking at you. "Spencer, if you don’t look up now, I’ll leave and you’ll never find out what I’m thinking about right now“ you threaten, his gaze hastily rising. You took another step towards him, this time a bit less sure than before. It seemed like time froze as you slowly raised your hand towards Reids face. "May I touch you?" You asked hesitantly, knowing that he wasn’t the biggest fan of non-consensual physical touch. He nodded his head and finally met your gaze. His eyes shifted up and down, between your eyes and lips. As you cupped his cheek, it seemed like the spell on him was broken. His face inched closer and closer until his lips met yours. The tension that you felt for the last few months finally found an escape and both of you seemed to feel relieved. His hands found your waist, as he pulled you closer to his body, your other hand tangling itself up in his hair. After a few moments both of you had to pull away to gasp for air. Smiles crept up on both of your faces as you realized what had just happened. He didn’t let your waist go, you didn’t want him to do that anyway. "You know what, Reid?" You asked humorously.

"What?" He asked back.

"I wanted to do that even before you let your hair grow out“ you answered him truthfully. Ever since you joined the team, you wanted to kiss him. It didn’t matter what his hair looked like or if he wore his glasses or not.

"You’re joking right? All of this agony for nothing then?“ he asked dumbfounded, pointing at his long hair.

"Oh no, definitely not for nothing! I got to see you wearing my pink bow and that is a sight, that I will never forget!“ you giggled and pulled him into a hug that he happily reciprocated.

P.S.: I hope you guys liked this, it is kinda strange to always read fanfic and now actually writing it. I guess my Spencer Reid obsession made me do it :) yall will probably understand, hahahaha.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #fluff #pink bows #y/n #first kiss #crush #spencer reid fluff

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harmonicakai · 14 hours

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Like Real People Do

Pairing: Gyuvin x Reader

Summary: You find yourself falling for the cute boy whose writing assignments you proofread, and discover that your lives have been intertwined for longer than you thought.

Tropes: tutor!reader, basketball player!gyuvin, writers, soulmates, college AU, fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: literally none it’s so cute

A/N: This is a formal apology for my Beomgyu angst <3

“And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?” —Invisible String, Taylor Swift

Gyuvin certainly doesn’t need any help with English, but it gives him a good excuse to spend time in between classes and basketball practice staring at you.

If anything, your talents would be better suited to helping one of his classmates understand all the old poems or crazy novels that they get assigned, but he’s the one who lucked out when your former professor suggested you read her most promising student’s work.

From the first draft, you were hooked, and had somehow started a writer’s circle where just the two of you meet weekly to share your works in progress.

In no time, you’ve helped Gyuvin become one of the top students in Writing 101, and he’s worried you’ll notice that he’d be just fine if you stopped helping him. Still, the A’s keep rolling in and you keep meeting up with him anyway.

When Gyuvin’s latest short story gets nominated for a departmental prize, you’re over the moon for him.

“You are so amazing,” you smile up at him. “We should celebrate! That’s a really big deal. I was nominated last year, but didn’t come close to winning.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he points out, looking down at the ground and rubbing the back of his neck. “Really, Y/N. If I win, it would be just as much your prize as it would be mine.”

“Don’t be silly,” you say, packing up the rest of your lunch. You usually only see him in the library at your designated meeting time, but today, he sought you out in the courtyard to make sure you were the first person he told. “I’m just the editor. All of the ideas came from you. Plus, I’m only good at English because I grew up speaking it. It’s much more impressive for you to have learned it recently and write at the level that you do.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Y/N,” he replies, helping you up off your picnic blanket. Before you can do it yourself, he’s already reaching down to fold it, his long arms handling the fabric with ease. “You’d write circles around me any day.”

“I don’t want to get into another compliment war,” you giggle, swinging your backpack over your shoulder. Recently, it’s been filled with way too many books, and your classes are so jam-packed that you never have time to run back to your room in between them.

“Here, Y/N, let me,” he says, taking your backpack from you. He’s already got his own on, but he wears yours over his front, barely even flinching at the extra weight. “Where are you headed next? I’m done with my classes for the day, so I can walk you.”

He’s always been desperate to ask you to hang out outside of your brainstorming sessions, but every time he thinks he’s worked up the courage, you’ll laugh or smile or even just glance at him and his brain short circuits.

“I have a music class across campus in thirty minutes,” you reply. “Don’t you live the other way, though? You really don’t have to walk me. It’s pretty far.”

“I want to,” Gyuvin reassures you. He offers his hand. “Here. I walk pretty fast, so let’s make sure I don’t leave you behind.”

You hesitate for a moment before taking it. You’ve had a crush on Gyuvin ever since the two of you first crossed paths—he’s the literal embodiment of sunshine trapped inside a cute boy—but things have only ever been friendly between the two of you.

His hand is big, wrapping itself around yours almost entirely. The walk is silent, although you swear you can hear your heart about to beat out of your chest as you pull him along your usual route. Gyuvin makes sure to always let you lead.

“You know,” you start, still not looking back at him. “We’re kind of like Orpheus and Eurydice right now.”

Gyuvin lights up at the reference, with mythology being one of the first things you two really bonded over. “If you looked back at me, the only thing I’d probably die of is how cute you are, Y/N.”

You’re glad you’re turned away so he can’t see the bright blush that’s spread across your cheeks. His words get you so flustered that you don’t even notice you’ve stopped walking.

“Did I say something wrong?” Gyuvin asks, his voice laced with concern. He moves to face you, your height difference causing him to crane his neck down. Meanwhile, your gaze is locked on your shoes.

“Gyuvin,” you say, still refusing to meet his eye. You pull him over to a nearby bench. “Remember when I said I liked the love story you wrote the other day?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he confirms. “You complimented me on how realistic it was and I told you it was only because I based it off of real life.”

“Was it…” your words catch in your throat, unable to face the embarrassment of if you’re wrong. “Was it about us?”

“Yes,” he admits almost immediately. You finally turn to face him, greeted by a nervous look. “Listen, Y/N. I only wrote it because I knew you’d read it, and I thought maybe if you saw how good characters that were a lot like us could be together, you’d give me a chance in real life. But you didn’t really notice, or maybe you just wanted to ignore it, so I kind of abandoned all hope of us ever being together.”

You blink back at him. How could you be so oblivious? Your entire major was based on analyzing words, and you couldn’t even see that he wanted to be with you so badly that he had to write it into existence.

Words always come easy to you, except at this very moment.

“You abandoned all hope?” is all you can manage to get out. You try to pull your hand away, but he only grips it tighter.

“I tried,” Gyuvin says, his voice soft. “But you’re all I ever think about. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be capable of writing someone who even comes close to how wonderful I think you are, Y/N. There just aren’t words to describe all the ways in which you’re special to me.”

You laugh, his words making tears well up in your eyes. “You know, I used to go to basketball games a lot before we even met, just so I wouldn’t have to feel so lonely all the time. And I remember liking your smile and the way you always encouraged your teammates. I would go home and wish I had someone like you in my life.”

“You’re kidding,” he says, taking out his wallet. You knit your brows in confusion, watching as he pulls out a small piece of paper and unfolds it. “Here.”

He hands it to you and your eyes widen at the words printed out. It’s the poem that you had published in the school’s literary magazine last spring about wanting to romanticize your life. Talking about your feelings makes you anxious, but nobody reads those publications. Except for Gyuvin, apparently.

“I liked you before we even met, too,” Gyuvin confesses. “Your poem is actually the reason I got into writing in the first place. I used to read it before all of my games, but I know all the words by heart now, so I just keep it in my wallet for good luck.”

This all feels too good to be true, but his touch keeps you grounded in reality.

“Maybe I should start coming to basketball games again, then,” you think out loud. “I stopped going because I felt awkward not knowing anybody.”

“Well, now you’d know me, and I’ll make sure the whole team gets to know you, too, okay?” The way he smiles at you, his eyes so full of light, takes your breath away.

“Really?” you ask, looking at him in disbelief. The thought of meeting so many new people at the same time scares you, but if Gyuvin likes them, you’re sure you will too.

“On one condition,” he says, closing the gap between the two of you. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand settling on your cheek. “I get to introduce you as my girlfriend.”

“Deal,” you grin, inching closer until your lips are pressed against his. You’re nervous that he’ll somehow figure out that you’ve only ever read about kissing in books, but the way he melts into you tells you that he doesn’t mind.

“You’re going to be late for class,” Gyuvin reminds you, pulling away. He desperately wants to keep going, but not at the expense of your grades.

“Class can wait,” you say, leaning in for another kiss. Your fingers lace themselves through his soft, messy hair. “I said we’d celebrate your nomination, so let’s celebrate.”

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icarus-does-fall · 2 days

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It's short an stupid but it fixed the brainrot <3

The hannigram fic idea that suddenly started rotting in my brain<33

I love these two crazy mfers a totally normal and reasonable amount

Somewhere in season 2 ig but like also just sorta an AU lmao

I need hannigram domestic bliss (except they're still crazy<3)

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

Will had once again been arrested and then set free because of over lying factors. It was becoming something of a pattern with Will being framed and then coincidently let go because another killer took the fall.

Hannibal, was of course the one still setting up Will, afterall he did stab Will only to moments later confess his love, but he'd be damned if other people kept saving *his* boy.

It was clear these two had a… problematic relationship but Hannibal knew how to be domestic on occasion, and these were one of those occasions.

After stabbing Will and begging for forgiveness while confessing his love, he immediately fled to Italy. Not long after did Will find him, they always knew where the other was. *Somehow*.

So of course Will found himself in Hannibals Italian Villa and one morning Hannibal and Will ended up in the kitchen together, Hannibal was cooking breakfast and Will was being a casual menace.

“William, please put the knives down, I need them to dice the chives.”

“Or I keep holding them, and try to stab you when you get too close.”

Hannibal sighed and continued to prep the needed ingredients for breakfast. “I have already apologized for that, must you keep it over my head forever?”

“No I don't have to, but it's nice seeing you squirm with guilt every time I mention it. More convenient than a gun this early in the morning too.” :3

Hannibal merely gave Will a slightly annoyed look as he took the Knife out of his hands and then kissed Will on the nose before going back to finish breakfast. Will bluescreenned for a moment, while yes Hannibal had admitted his feelings open affection from the man was still a strange concept.

“You're an impossible puzzle to solve Will.”

“Yeah- Anyway whats for breakfast?”

“We have caramelized french toast with a mixed berry compote for your child like behaviours, and I have a fiddlehead omelet with bacon and a homemade salsa.”

“That sounds- Hey wait a minute, I'm not childlike! I'm an FBI agent who have taken care of himself the majority of his life.”

“William, you point a gun at me whenever you want to get your way and pout whenever you remember your dogs are still in the states without you. Furthermore you pout whenever you don't get your way.”

To even further prove Hannibals point, Will pouted as his behaviours were pointed out one by one. The down side of living with and liking a psychiatrist, you tend to get psychoanalysied without your permission.

“Just shut up and make your breakfast already-”

Hannibal smiled smugly as he turned back towards the stove. A few minutes later breakfast was done and plated, Will sat at the bar, causing Hannibal to scowl from his place at the table. He mightve been a cannibal but he still had table manners.

Hannibal silently glared at Will, trying to will Will into sitting at the table. It eventually worked but not in the way Hannibal wanted. Instead of sitting nicely Will was sitting cross legged in one of the chairs and was breaking almost every table etiquette rule there was. But at least he was at the table.

“William…”

“I haven't done anything!”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you quite positive about that William?”

“Uh… yes?”

Hannibal nodded disapprovingly and continued to eat in silence, now Will wasn't nervous per say but he definitely was a little on edge from Hannibals reactions. Knowing his luck he'd end up with an ear in his mouth again while he slept.

Besides that one incident the two had a fairly calm and casual morning. Will did the dishes as Hannibal cleaned the table, after the chores were done the two ended up on the couch together watching some nature documentary that Will liked.

“You know this isn't going to last forever right? If I found you Jack is eventually gonna show up at the door too-”

Hannibal nodded, absent-mindedly pulling Will in closer to his side. “I am well aware of Jack Crawford's efforts to find me but I have ways to delay the inevitable for now.”

Will was about to say something else but Hannibal cut him off with a kiss, even going as far to bite down on Wills lip until it bled- The might have started to be a little more than civil but that didn't mean Hannibal didn't have issues anymore.

A gasp and a soft moan slipped past his lips as Hannibal kissed and bit him. Yet he returned the kiss with a similar fever leading to him tugging on Hannibals shirt, only to then he pulled away from.

A coy looking Hannibal smiled as he looked at Wills flushed face. “Don't get carried away now William, we still have a documentary to finish watching.”

#hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #nbc hannigram #bro gets called ✨️William✨️#gay

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corfisers · 5 months

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i really need to finish this one day

#one of my fave ideas but i keep getting stuck or starting over. third time's the charm hopefully #anyways. posting it as an excuse to rant because i'm losing my mind over this rn for no reason #incoherent but i just need to Talk or my brain won't shut up #you ever think about how fucked up it is that aoi feels guilty over what happened. i do. i think about her a lot #he can't even look at me. we aren't even blood related but he still had to go to jail because of me. i still love him #in reality none of it is her fault. it shouldn't be about doumeki in the first place. baby girl you were 15 when it happened.#you can say that yashiro is cruel in his dismissiveness (on the surface) of doumeki's trauma but you can see where he's coming from #you got a glimpse of what your sister was going through? of what i went through? and now you're sooo guilty over it? and who does it help?#doumeki's so focused on his own feelings that he ignored aoi when they were living together. “saves” her by pure chance #proceeds to focus on his guilt and ignore her again. if yashiro didn't get involved she'd be sitting in the rain for god knows how long #yet she still loves and to some degree idolizes him #yashiro and aoi both saying that doumeki isn't the type of person to be a yakuza too. doumeki's good doumeki's better than that #and then ch 24 happens. where yashiro says that he's going to throw up and doumeki's response is “i probably won't stop even if you do”#“guess i am like my father after all” and yashiro still goes “you're not. you're pure and im the problem”#(touches doumeki's face. rare gentle gesture. he's gentle afterwards too before leaving. man.)#he's not cruel enough to repeat what he said in the earlier conversation and he doesn't actually believe it anyway #but i wish yashiro was cruel there. it shouldn't have been about doumeki and his feelings. again.#something about yashiro throwing a knife at another person and it flying back at him huh #for all the talk about how doumeki supposedly romanticizes yashiro it really is the other way around. always has been #which is a whole other conversation but yeah. everything about aoi and yashiro in relation to doumeki makes me so fucking sad #but this is also what i mean when i say that aoi doesn't haunt the narrative per se but still has this weird presence?#she's in the parallels. she's in the brief but important mentions. she's in the “your sister was lucky she had you”.#wips tag

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opens-up-4-nobody · 9 months

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...

#hello to anyone who happens to b interested in the saga of my life... also maybe the irl person i gave my url to... hopefully my blog #didnt freak her out too much lol. anyway so its been a busy week? 2 weeks? month? year? life? its been a lot. my parents helped me move #across the country from the desert to somewhere that's beautiful and green. my dad is so jealous of me lol its so so so pretty and theres s #so much to do. will i do any of it? that remains to be seen but im gonna try to be better about that sort of thing. try to get some help #with the thoughts in my head that keep me from doing and enjoying most things. its weird like im decorating my new room which i love. the #location and living situation seem ideal and i really hope i can stay here all 5 years of my program but i was picking a lot of bright #colors and now it feel uncomfortable. like if i wear things that r too bright or my room is too bright without dark contrast it feel weird #like if im wearing it it kinda makes me feel sick. idk what thats abt. anyway. ill try to heal my brain and im just so happy to b out of the #southwest. i was so so so excited when we were leaving thr city and even more so when we left the state. i cant believe im here. in December #it felt like a million years away and i really truely could not fathom how i was gonna survive that long. my thoughts were so distorted. but #i did and here i am. and in like a month i should b starting my phd program and my parents were telling me how excited ppl r for me and #jealous of where im living and im glad. im glad they're excited. i think i am too but its under a layer of: if i get excited it wont happen #im not allowed to b excited or it wont happen. which is irrational but ya kno. anyway so that's yeah. im so happy to have a fresh start and #the town seems super cool. a liberal blip in a sea of... not that so theyre very visibly pride forward haha and i think itll b way easier #for me to get around without driving. and im gonna try to make friends. i need someone to tell me where to get tattoos haha. so yea im happy #but exhausted and i dont wanna go back to work and so so greatful to my parents for being wonderful ppl idk how bc both of them had fucked #up childhoods. like my mum will say the saddest shit and im like bro this is y i don't wanna talk to my grandma fuck her and my dads parents #r so fucked. like my nana is the reason im so fucking control freaked out but i kno i have issues and she has no insight and thinks shes #better than everyone. anyway hopefully i can get back to drawing a posting more now. ive been drawing it its been in a sketch book #like an actual sketch book for sketching big ideas thst r gonna take fucking forever to draw 😭#so that's all. just uprooted my whole life. thats all. but in a good way :-]#unrelated

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hulloitsdani · 10 months

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Gather round children it’s time for a Ted Talk about FEH and how I go about drawing these characters.

When making art for this game, I have found immense satisfaction in attempting to meet FEH on its level and remain fairly loyal to the Intelligence System’s approved content we have. This is remarkably challenging. For me, at least. I find this game’s design sensibilities run very counter to my own. That’s not a critique of any in game art of the characters (although I do think they improve greatly over time) as they fulfill their purpose really well. They are meant to be drawn 4 times max which means they can go pretty crazy on the details. But hahahaha I’m not doing that. Clearly. I’m drawing these guys by hand at different angles and posses fairly consistently, which is just not what they were built for. Don’t think when someone designed Kiran they thought of the person who’d be drawing them chilling ontop of a fridge with a bottle of mustard in their hand, you know?

So naturally I got to do some translating! And that’s the really fun part >:]

There are many things I had to find creative answers for, like Kiran’s face and Alfonse’s stupid haircut. But the one rotating rapidly in my brain atm is the Askr quartet in combat. I wanted lean hard into the fact that these four are, well, very human in comparison to every other combatant that enters Askr. They aren’t exactly helpless nor unskilled. If any of the trio raised their blade at Kiran, they’d start digging their own grave themselves. But the group are regular soldiers fighting against straight up warriors of legend. As individuals, Anna, Sharena, Alfonse, and Kiran are not that strong in comparison. No merges for these bitches they gotta work with what they got. However, they all know that. So they make up for their weaknesses through terrifyingly effective teamwork. Through the power of trauma bonding- I MEAN FRIENDSHIP they become a fucking terrifying force of nature. It’s like pissing off an ant hill or a wasps nest. A lancer goes for Alfonse and suddenly theres a swarm of five level 1 heroes making such a distraction that they don’t see Anna’s axe sweep through their Achilles heels or Sharena’s follow up shield bash.

So this means I get to convey their team composition through their body shapes and give them clear strengths and weakness for the others to cover. Which is just so god damn FUN. Like we all know Kiran is the squishiest of the squishy, so it’s really fun to show just HOW squishy they are through the immediate comparison Alfonse and Sharena. I gave those two sturdier square shapes, and thus making them shorter yet stocky. This makes it look like they could fucking launch Kiran’s bony ass to the moon and back. However, that’s on the condition that either of them could catch Kiran, as their tall slim build implies the lightweight speed they move with. Which is so!!!! Fun!!!! Aughhh big love. Kiran could literal use Sharena as cover to snipe enemies from. Meanwhile Anna and Alfonse are a bit ahead using reposition to let Anna provide swift dps without getting too beat up herself. And by reposition, I mean Alfonse using his shield as a jump pad to launch Anna at the enemy with. You know. Just bro things. Anna’s triangle shapes make her both just hearty and lean enough to pull it off, might as well go for it. Just make sure she’s properly supported and safe by the time the enemy phase rolls around you know?

And I swear, the combos just write themselves too. Like between Sharena and Alfonse, a poor soul gets caught in the worst version of ping pong as Alfonse captain America’s his shield between the two of them. Kiran could then use that same shield like Link does and surf out of enemy range, shooting at the enemy the whole way. It’s fun! These guys have the potential to really sync up during combat and be emblematic of their bonds with one another.

Example, Alfonse. Alfonse could TECHNICALLY be a stronger solo fighter if he ditched the shield. He has the constitution and skill to not actually need the extra protection, and if he decided to two hand his weapon (haha there’s a joke there) the damage he could do would be devastating. However, the shield isn’t for his protection, but to be better help to his closest friends. The shield isn’t taking as many hits for him as it is for Kiran and Anna, who can’t afford to carry shields without compromising their own effectiveness. Plus through creative (and probably not intentional) uses it helps better position them on the battlefield. It’s for THEM. The only time he’s going to stop using the shield is when they aren’t there fighting along side him.

Enter Líf.

He hasn’t had a shield for a long time now.

#These ideas have been living in my brain for too long they needed a way out #feh Ted Talk #Man I wish animating these characters wouldn’t be an actual living hell #I have so many brain animatics #fights against Líf and Thasir would be so INTERESTING with this in mind #He KNOWS their tricks #Fighting him would be TERRIFYING #feh #fire emblem heroes #kiran #alfonse #feh kiran #feh alfonse #feh summoner #feh anna #feh sharena

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rubberduckyrye · 24 days

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Google how do you draw faster without losing quality--

#Giving myself the bad feels because I want to draw more often and stuff but #my art takes me so long and takes so much energy ;~;#I wish it didn't...#I miss being able to draw nearly every day #I wish I could draw fast #aaaa #My brain was made for words not for art #I think like that's kind of the trade off #I think in words and most people think in images and pictures apparently #I have to actively TRY to get a picture in my head and tbh it often is only very brief #Compsition was really hard for me before I started using my 3D models #then I could tweak the poses until it felt right and THEN I could draw #But posing is also like #kinda hard???#it's tedious I think #I might look up how to make different hand poses and stuff just so that's not like #something I have to fuss with every time #like if I make a hand pose and save it then I can reuse it #that kind of idea #Hands are always really annoying and hard to pose so that would probably be for the best #at least it'll speed up posing #I might also make some generic poses like walking and running #just bases to work from to make more unique poses for art pieces #Anyway long story short #I'm a slow artist because I'm a fast writer #that might just be something I need to live with #And I need to find ways to short cut the process for art so it's not nearly as miserable to draw for me #I've been kind of tempted to try out making 3D models of all the characters I want to or like to draw #And use special methods to just use that to make line art for drawing because boy can I NOT be fucked to do line art #I've been kind of wanting to get more into 3D stuff lately too so idk

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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months

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I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??

anyway

Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”

“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*

“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks

"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.

Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.

"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"

Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."

"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.

How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?

"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"

Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."

Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."

Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.

And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.

The perfect heir.

It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.

"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."

"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"

"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."

"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.

The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.

"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.

He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."

"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.

"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.

Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.

It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.

"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.

"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.

"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"

"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.

A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.

He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"

"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."

"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.

"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"

"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.

Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.

"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.

Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.

"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.

His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #The Audit #Damian's cool uncle Danny #In which Danny was reborn as Daniel Al Ghul four hundred and ten years ago as Ra's first born son #Then went all Ghost King on him #and now travels the world making sure kid's safety laws are followed #Sorry I know it's not what you were picturing but it's all I could think of.

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hoshigray · 10 months

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Been thinking about this scenario a lot, but ex-husband! Toji, where you two are pretty chill with each other, even after five years of divorce. But the feelings between you two start to parade back after all these years, and it all comes boiling over after spending one night together.

A/n: Been a while since I've done one of these scenario thingies, plus this idea has been rotting my mind for a long time, and I needed it to get out, lol. I pushed back my Gojo fic to tmrw or Thursday because my brain was not feeling like re-reading 3-4k words while running on one hour of sleep. So, instead, we're dropping this in its stead. Sorry about that, and hope you like this while I fix the fic up later today :) Any grammar/spelling errors on this will be dealt with tmrw.

Cw: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - implied that reader is entering their mid 30s - starts out cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - implied that Tsumiki and Megumi are around middle school age; 12 (T) and 11 (M) - pining; Toji is whipped for you, I fear - Daddy kink - prone bone position + mating press - pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie, mama, princess) - cervix fucking - praise - itty-bitty-tiny overstimulation - closure; happy ending (?).

Wc: 3.4k (wow, way longer than the last one, lol)

Ex-husband! Toji...

...who you've divorced after being together for four years. It was a marriage built on love, convenience, and heartache. There is no denying that Toji loved you very much; if anything, the man would set the world ablaze if anything were to happen to you. Especially when you were the sweetest thing that blessed his presence and his two children who were young at the time — Tsumiki and Megumi at age three. The fact that you loved him as much as he loved you is beyond doubt in Toji's mind. However, somewhere down the line, you felt a "shadow" that you could not surpass nor fill — the late wife of Toji.

You could tell that Toji still had a piece of him that just couldn't let the memory of his late wife go, and you understood that. Hence why you chose to leave him, which was glum for all parties, but Toji understood where you were coming from and signed the papers.

...who's still chill with you after the divorce. You two promised not to act like complete strangers, especially with Tsumiki and Megumi being close to you. Just because the ring isn't on your finger doesn't mean you must change completely. The two of you are comfortable enough to be in each other's company, taking turns watching over the kids and acting like you're still married by poking fun at one another like the good days.

"Hey, big guy," Toji turns to the kitchen hallway where you're looking at him, his usual black coffee in his mug still sheltered in your apartment cupboards. "You look like shit; too tired to go to the clubs to find some minx to wow you enough like you used to?"

He snickers at your brazenness. "Shut up, brat. I could ask the same fr' you. Got some good dick on the side to help that attitude of yours, baby?" After checking around to see if the kids are nearby, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles before sipping his coffee.

...whose kids adore and love you so much that they secretly try to have you and Toji in the same place, which the two of you are entirely aware of. Five years passed after your separation, though that doesn't hinder the children from wanting you back in their lives again. Because to them, you are always a Fushiguro, and the love for you will always be there. It's there when you go to Tsumiki's soccer games and drag your ex-husband to find a better seat on the bleachers to watch her play. It's there when Megumi tells his father he "accidentally" left his baseball bat at your place and "unfortunately" now has to spend the night there (and you always receive them). And it's there when you promise to come along on family trips, like going to the zoo and taking pictures by the Panda enclosure with his daughter or going to the aquarium and listening intently to his son explain all the different types of jellyfish.

Toji can't blame his own kin for being attached to you because you are still a mother in their eyes. And so to his.

...who has his wedding ring on his dog-tag necklace but always tucks it under his shirt whenever you're present. It gives him a peace of mind when it comes to you because if he can't be there for you 24/7, he knows you're under his protection whenever you need it. But the thought of you knowing he still wears it makes him anxious, worried that you'll take it the wrong way and request he never wears it again. So, for his sake, he keeps you blind to this secret. And he wonders if you ever wear yours...

...who welcomes you without hesitation when you have to spend the night at his place because he notices you're too exhausted to go home so late. The only problem is that there's no other room outside the kids and Toji's. And as much you protest, expressing your satisfaction with taking the couch, your ex-husband disagrees and will carry you to bed, sneering to himself as you try to wiggle out of his stronghold until he smacks the bedroom door closed with his leg.

"I told you I was fine sleeping on the couch, Toji." You complain to him, yet your back is pressed against his chest with his arm around your waist.

"And I told you not gonna happen, princess." his hold around you gets tighter, pulling you closer for him to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You'd probably fall off and smack that pretty face of y'rs on the floor."

"I would not—You know what," you stooped from saying anything further to the man grinning behind your ear. You shift a bit to make yourself comfortable. "Goodnight, Toji. And thank you."

It takes every fiber in his being to not kiss your cheek then and there. Exhaling softly through his nostrils as he lays his head back on the pillow. "No problem, sweetheart."

...who the last time he had someone after your separation was not feeling it at all. You even said he is free to do whatever he wants when moving on to the next minx that caught his attention. You two are adults and shouldn't feel entitled to putting each other on a leash. Despite that, he knew moving on from you wouldn't be easy — especially in the bedroom.

The women he's had after you can only be counted on one hand. No matter how good the fun was with the others, his mind would always crawl back to you. It didn't matter how different their hair was, what they dressed that night, or how fucking good the sex was; you would cloud his mind in some way. They weren't you. They weren't his sweet thing.

...who's extremely perplexed in a nightclub when he sees you. He didn't want to go in the first place until Satoru Gojo barged into his apartment, dragged him out in his best attire, and left Nanami (another victim of Gojo's foolishness) to babysit Megumi and Tsumiki. And it was bad enough that Gojo snaked away from Toji to the dance floor the second they got inside, the raven-haired man almost popping a vein in vexation.

So the older man resorts to just doing the usual gig: walking around before sitting at the bar to ask for a regular beer. He stays there for nearly half an hour, taking sips of his bottle while sweet-talking to the ladies that occasionally find him and give him his number. Things got really loud when the DJ at the discothèque played "Up!" by Lil Vada and DonnySolo, all the party people crowding the floor, bumping and grinding each other while singing the lyrics. It was at this point that Toji had enough of the massive headache growing in his head, so he was about to down his beer and leave the club; Gojo be damned because the fucker could find his own way home and then some.

But midway through putting the beer bottle on his scarred lips, something in Toji's peripheral captures his attention. And his jade eyes go wide at what he sees.

Down to the right side of the dance floor are booths catered to bigger parties, so it's obvious to notice when a single person sits alone on one of the round tables while everyone else is dancing their hearts out. That one person was you, observing the dance floor with your head on your hand resting on the table.

To say that Toji was flabbergasted by the image of you in a place like this after all these years was tough for him to comprehend. Yet what really had him in a chokehold was how stunning you were. From where he stood, he could tell that you dolled yourself quite a bit. Your hair was kept in a style that displayed your face wholly, and you were wearing a beautiful halter-neck dress with slits revealing your thighs deliciously.

He forgets how to breathe when your eyes drift in his direction and find him. You're just as surprised as he is for a short moment, but you offer him a familiar smile and beckon him to come to your side of the club. The older man wastes no time, paying the bartender and making his way through the crowd to your table. When he's close enough, he can tell that your dress is backless, exposing your smooth skin that calls for him to touch.

And when Toji notices the ring on your left hand — the old wedding ring he gifted you — the world around him comes to a complete standstill.

"Hey, big guy." He snaps back to look at your beautiful face, your smile still there to blind him, and the booth far from the dance floor and music so he can listen to your sweet voice. You move to the side to make room for him to sit. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

"Me neither." He admits to you as he takes a seat, his green orbs never leaving your figure. "What are you doin' here?"

"Some friends dragged me out here for one of their birthdays. I figured I'd be here for a few hours and loosen up a bit, you know? But I don't know, I guess I'm just so used to being at my place that I'm out of practice with clubs."

Toji nods at your answer. "Yeah, I was dragged here, too. I'm with—"

"Gojo? Yeah, I thought so. He's right there dancing with my friends." He pans around to the dance floor to see commotion at the center. The snow-haired man was dancing as a crowd formed around him, getting grinded on by a woman with a "happy birthday" headband.

Gojo notices the raven-headed man staring his way, pulls down his shades, and winks. That's when the reason why Toji was brought here in the first place hits him. Gojo knew you would be here tonight because of your friend's birthday. And now that you two are sitting alone, the wink signaled Toji to make his move.

"....Wanna get the hell outta here?"

You giggle at his suggestion. "Yeah, I don't feel like watching my friends get pregnant on the dance floor."

Toji snickers and grabs your hand to lead you out of the booth. He then drapes his denim jacket over your shoulders to cover your exposed shoulders and back, and the two of you leave the club without anyone noticing a thing.

...who spends the rest of the night with you as if you two are on a date again. It's late, so many shops around the area are closed already, but that doesn't stop the two of you from having fun. From sharing a meal at a nearby diner, walking around a shopping plaza admiring the silent ambiance, and listening to old tunes in his car as you two share stuff about your day while holding hands. And the change of mood completely baffles Toji. Nevertheless, when he sees the smile on your face and hears the sweet tune of your laughter, the grasp on your hand gets tighter with every minute. All his intentions go into enjoying having you with him like this again.

...who stays by your side until he has to drop you off at your place, parked his car to walk you to your apartment door. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, way later than Toji ever intended to stay out. Not that it matters now, because it's all worth it being able to walk with you. He doesn't let go of your hand even when his heart dies a little when you two arrive at your door.

"Had a good time?" You ask while unlocking the door; your eyes showcase subtle exhaustion but are overshadowed by your smile.

"Sure as hell did since I saw you at the club." He confesses, your chuckles casting a spell on him.

"Hmm, I'm glad you were there too, Toji." You meant those words, your eyes gazing into his, and the man's plunged deep into your gorgeous orbs. A feeling that he now realizes he wants to be the only one experiencing with you.

An awkward silence for a few seconds prompts you to snatch your hand away from his, causing his stomach to drop. "Sorry, your jacket" is what you use to excuse yourself, moving to take off the denim jacket. But Toji stops you, his hands stationed on your shoulders to keep you still.

"No, it's cold, sweetie." His voice is hushed, only for you to hear. "You can give it back next time."

Silence comes back again, but the air is heavier this time. The awkwardness is replaced with something more solicitous, more affectionate. You notice it when Toji has yet removed his hands from your shoulders, his large palms warming you up to the touch.

"Toji—"

"It's alright, baby." His gruff tone is still a whisper, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "I won't do anythin'."

"No, no," you don't know what came over you, but you place your hands on his chest. Then your finger touches something from underneath his turtleneck, having you pull his collar down to pull out the dog-tag necklace that still harbors his old wedding ring. Toji's blood shifts to ice cold when you see the accessory — his anxiousness spikes up to an all-time high, only mere seconds from combusting based on whatever your response will be. And it comes.

"I...I want you to do something, Toji." It felt strange saying those words with your shaky confidence, though it's what you wished to express. "I want you..."

And just like that, whatever restraint that the older man had for you was butchered away. Emerald eyes take in every feature of your anticipating expression, and his lips come crashing down on yours.

...who couldn't care less how late it is right now because he finally has you where he wants you after all these years. It's 2:30 in the morning, way too late for loud noises as they'll disrupt the neighbors next door. But, again, Toji doesn't care about that. When he finally has you lying under him on your stomach, screaming out his name while he drives his cock deep inside you, what is there to care about?

The two of you are in the prone bone position, where you lie flat on your belly on the cream-white satin sheets of your bed, your legs in between Toji's and bare ass out for him to have easy access to your creamy cunt that hugs onto him all so well.

Tears paint your wet and sweaty face, drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and meets the sheets beneath you. The harsh thrusts of Toji's pelvis hitting your ass with such precision have you see stars, and his big hands keep your arms still. All you can hear are the ecstatic cries of your voice and the noises of skin smacking together.

"Nnmph!! Haaaah!! Ahhhh, yesssss, Daddy, just like that," your voice feels strained from all the screaming you've been doing for the past hour. Lips are swollen from the constant biting, your butt stinging from the intense contact with your ex-husband's pelvis. It's hard to think of anything but the man above you and his dick rearranging your slit like his personal toy. You never thought you'd experience this exhilarating and rewarding sensation again. And now that you do, it's all you want to indulge in. "H-Harder, pleaseeee, I want mo—Ahhhnnn!"

Toji grinds his hips down to your ass, churning your insides and grazing your cervix to the point of incoherent babbles. "Mmmm, oooh, shit, fuckin' shit. You're too tight on me, mama." He gives you a sharp thrust when you least expect it, and the walls of your chasm clamping down on his length has him hiss. It's hard to believe you're permitting him to have you like this. It's been five years. Five years of respectful boundaries and keeping a platonic relationship. Five years of denying feelings of want and desire. All those years of heavy guilt suddenly lifted from his shoulders just for him to have you under his bow again, your body quivering and voice shaky because of his touch.

It feels so surreal...But, God, Toji missed this so goddamn much. Missing your eyes, your smile, your touch, your body. Just you. Only you. "Hnnngh!! Damn, you feel so fuckin' good, baby. Can never have enough..."

"Mnnaaaah! Daddy, I'm gonna cummm, I'm gonna—Oooohh!!" The tip of his shaft scrapes the upper walls of your vagina, your brain pounding so hard to the point it hurts. "Pleaseee, let me cum, Daddyyy..."

He can tell you're close and senses your orgasm climbing up with his. That's when the pace of his hips goes erratically fast, jabbing your sweet spots and tender cervix, causing more tears to come down and your peak to finally release for the third time that night. As you cream on his cock, Toji's not too far from his own crescendo. Your velvety walls contract around his member divinely, and the older man spills his load into your quivering figure.

You're allowed to experience the aftershocks of your orgasm as you two let your bodies calm down, Toji laying his chest on your sweaty, heaving back. He then slowly removes his dick from your chasm, and the essence of your unioned sex feels cold while sliding down your inner thighs.

"Haaaaah...Mmmm, thank you, Toji." You whimper out as he lays kisses down your neck and shoulders. "Thank you..."

But little did you know that it wasn't the last of it. Before you could apprehend what was going on, Toji already had you flipped over to your back, stationing your legs on his shoulders to a mating press. And you see that his cock is not limp yet...

W-Wait a damn second—

"T-Toji, wait, hold on!" You try to rationalize with the man who aligns his shaft to your gushing vulva, and your sweat runs cold. "It's getting late. I just came three times already! We should—Nmmmph!!"

The head of his cock slides right in thanks to the slick and come lubricating your opening. Adding his weight onto you as he pushes his length deep into your chasm again, you cry choked sobs when he meets your cervix again, and his pelvis rubs against your clitoris. "Sorry, mama. Just lemme finish here, 'kay? Daddy missed havin' you like this, so I wanna give you all of me while I still can."

...who has your fatigued self lying on his chest, rubbing circles on your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead as you feel the effects of sleep slowly creep up on you. The lights are now off, the moonlight bargaining from the curtains being the only light source as you two are ready to gather whatever amount of sleep you can get.

"Hey, baby." But before that, Toji wants your attention for the last time before you sleep.

"Mhmm?" Your eyes are closed, but your ears are still open to listen.

His eyes drift down to the left hand that lays motionless on his chest. The gem on the ring flashes softly for it to be distinguishable. "How come you were wearin' your ring at the club?"

A few seconds go by before you give him the honest truth. "Same reason you wear yours. I always wear it when going out somewhere or alone someplace. Gives people the idea that I'm not ready for anyone else."

"Then why not wear it when I'm around?"

You giggle breathlessly. "Same reason why you don't let me see yours. I don't need a ring when I have you with me. A ring doesn't compare to my big man who will love and protect me wherever we go."

And Toji doesn't ask anything else after that. He lets you fall asleep in his arms and listens to your breathing follow a melodic rhythm. Your words stick with him even when his eyes close, and he soon falls into a deep sleep.

It's far-fetched to think that you two will be married again. Maybe it's possible in his dreams, but not in the real world. Regardless, Toji knows he will always stand beside you and be there for you. With or without a ring that's merely evidence of your love to outsiders. He knows you love him, and that's all he needs to keep moving. And if he could have you as his wife again, he'd sweep you off your feet in a heartbeat.

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javierpena-inatacvest · 4 months

Text

Agent Peña

Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.

Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)

A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Are you sure this is the last box?”

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”

“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.”

You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space.

You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp.

“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.”

“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised.

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment.

“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!”

“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture.

“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again.

“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle.

“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip.

“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.”

“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…”

“Osita…”

“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.”

“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed.

“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened.

“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi.

Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker.

Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.

As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner.

You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.

You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see.

It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways.

With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front.

You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.

You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them.

Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box.

And holy fuck did he look hot.

Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground.

While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen.

Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it.

You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box.

“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.

He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.

“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view.

“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up.

“Hermosa, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.

But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind.

Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade.

“What’s going on, baby?”

With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you.

“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.”

“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you.

“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-”

“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.”

Oh, fuck me.

“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?”

“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it.

“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body.

“Like, right now?”

“Like, right now.”

Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest.

“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.

As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.”

“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat.

“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room.

“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal.

You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming.

“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…”

“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function.

“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further.

“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”

“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?”

In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth.

You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers.

Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal.

It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic.

“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils.

It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin.

“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came.

That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly.

“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor.

“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace.

You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible.

“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-” You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him.

Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure.

“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.”

You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear.

“You still okay, Osita?”

“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again.

“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response.

“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again.

“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt.

You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser.

Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him.

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.”

The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core.

Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him.

“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came.

“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high.

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath.

Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point.

“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.”

“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.”

“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-”

“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.”

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics.

“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.”

“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?”

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.”

“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.”

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bimbobaggins69 · 3 months

Text

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙮?

𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: when your new boyfriend Steve accidentally stumbles upon your hidden diary filled with your biggest secrets and darkest fantasies, he asks his fraternity brother Eddie; a drug dealing metalhead to help him fulfill your biggest one.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, past fwb steddie, 90s au, fuck boy eddie, slight hurt/comfort, sexual tension, accidental outing (I swear he means good), oral (m receiving), throat fucking, dirty talk, unprotected p in a (m receiving), anal play (f receiving), unprotected p in v & dp in v, boy on boy action, dom eddie, filth filth filth, fluffs, longing.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: just an idea that’s been rotting away in my brain that I had to write down… as always thank you to my beautiful girlfriend @xxhellfirebunnyxx and the babes @take-everything-you-can & @livosssblog for beta reading.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 7.4k

Date night with your new boyfriend Steve has turned into a regular weekend thing, although you had your eye on the pretty, brown haired boy all semester long, you had officially met three and half weeks ago while you were working your waitressing job at the on campus diner. He asked for your number and the two of you have been inseparable since.

“Hey Steve, can you go grab my purse off of my desk in my room, please? I’m gonna use the restroom and then we can go.” You ask, making your way into the hallway of your apartment, you close the door to the bathroom behind you softly before going about your business.

The brown haired boy in question walks into your bedroom and grabs your black leather bag off of your desk but before he turns to walk away, something hits his nike sneaker and bounces off, hitting the floor with a light thud.

“Shit.” Steve huffs under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the aforementioned object; it's a journal or maybe a diary? It’s splayed out on the floor, open to the very last page. Steve tries his best not to look, he doesn't want to snoop. He really, really likes you and doesn't want to give any reasons for you not to trust him so early on; but when his hazel eyes catch a glimpse of the words: “Deepest Darkest Fantasies” written in bold black lettering on the very top of the page, he can't help but to continue scanning over the rest. Words like “threesome”, “double penetration” and “guy on guy action” pique his interests. He’s no prude and has definitely had his share of gay action with a few of his fraternity brothers, one specifically that he had an ongoing friends with benefits situation with, so he’s not put off by it. What he is, is surprised, almost shocked that you would be into something like that. Most girls he met weren’t and would cut a date short if you even so much as mentioned the word bisexual in their presence.

He hears the bathroom door click open, so he quickly closes the diary and places it back onto your desk before grabbing your bag and booking it out into the living room where he sits on a bar stool, doing his best to look as if he’d been waiting for you the whole five or so minutes.

“You ready to go?” You ask with an excited smile that Steve just wants to kiss off of you, he already thought you were his perfect dream girl but something about what he found in your diary made him that much more attracted to you; perhaps it was the feeling of someone finally accepting every part of him.

After a nice dinner date at your favorite sushi spot and one too many saki bombers later, you're both stumbling into your apartment, heated lips clashing together like they were set off by some sort of magnetic force. Deep, passionate kisses shared between you, as if they were going out of style. Hands roaming over each other's bodies before finding their permanent spot in the other's soft tresses.

“Need you so fucking bad, baby.” Steve whispers to you through tender kisses.

“Mmm, take me to my room, big boy.” You’re finally able to huff out as his lips move in a sloppy motion, down your neck.

The chosen pet name makes Steve tense, the kisses he was just placing on your collar bone come to an immediate halt.

“Everything okay?” You ask as you gently scratch at his scalp with your long fingernails, making him shudder and groan with delight.

“No, yeah everythings fine.” He scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to your bedroom and tossing you onto your bed. The stuff he saw in your diary, plus the mention of the nickname his fraternity brother/ex friends with benefits calls him, kind of set his brain on fire with thoughts of the three of you together.

Things didn't work out with Eddie in the way Steve had first wanted them to, he was very much into partying and sleeping around whereas Steve had dreams of settling down; he had his party and meaningless sex phase for most of high school, it was no longer fun for him and when he voiced that to Eddie, the metalhead laughed and said he didn't think he’d ever settle down, which was a silent blow to Steve’s heart. He has since gotten over it and moved on all while staying friends and being roommates, but that other part of his brain was enticed at the idea of having both of you at the same time. Maybe he’d have to introduce you to Eddie and let it go from there, let you choose whether you’d want them to be the ones to make that fantasy come true.

Steve loses his train of thought when you start to remove your clothes, then he's on you again; kissing you with an intense passion that almost knocks the air from your lungs.

“God, im gonna fuck you so good.”

“Come on Eddie, It’s a goddamn threesome! When have you ever turned one of those down, huh?” Steve deplores as he paces in front of his half naked roommate who’s sat comfortably in a slouched position with his head thrown back onto a saggy, discolored couch cushion.

“I'm sure I've turned one or two down in my day.” Eddie says with a smirk as his eyes follow the honey eyed boy, whose red sox cap sits backwards over that perfect quiff of brown hair.

“Oh please, you fucked those twin sisters last month and had no moral fucking compass then.” Steve quips, exhaling the built up of irritation out through his nose.

“Well, that was just fun. Believe it or not Harrington, twins are a very niche kink and I won't sit here and listen to you kink shame me, kay?” The smirk on Eddie’s face grows to full capacity when Steve throws him a pissed off look as his hands fall to his hips, in his signature Steve stance.

“C’mon, at least meet her first before you make an indefinite decision, Eds.” Steve says while pulling out the big guns; the nickname mixed with a bat of his long lashes has his roommate instantly folding, though not without contempt.

“Fine, I’ll meet your little girlfriend and decide whether I wanna fuck her or not.” Eddie huffs out as if he’s doing Steve some big nuanced favor. “Now move, you're blocking the Tv.” The metalhead declares as he tosses an overstuffed throw pillow at the former jock.

“You’re not fucking her, we’re fucking her!” Steve shouts as he smacks the pillow out of his face, letting it plop to the floor before he turns around and makes his way to his bedroom to think of the best way to bring this up to you without having to reveal that he accidentally read your diary.

“So, we’re meeting your friend here?” You ask your boyfriend as he opens the door to the sports bar for you before ushering you inside with a light slap to your ass.

“Mhm, my good friend and roommate, Eddie. He’ll be here soon.” Steve hoped he wasn’t being too obvious, although he did doubt you’d catch on without any significant reason to. His nerves were getting the best of him and he felt guilty for doing this behind your back, maybe he should talk to you about this first? But, he figured you could still just meet Eddie on a friendly basis without the added pressure of possibly choosing him to be a third.

Once the hostess sits you down at your table, an unfamiliar head of fluffy waves comes bounding through the crowd, his eyes scanning the restaurant before falling on Steve, who immediately stands up and waves a hand above his head, making Eddie roll his eyes at Steve’s dramatic gesture.

“Sup Harrington,” The metalhead greets before his eyes fall to you, sitting meekly with your hands in your lap and a nervous, tight smile on your face. Eddie couldn't be bothered to take his eyes off of you. He was stunned and it wasn't because he didn't think Steve could pull such a beautiful girl. No, obviously king steve could get whoever he wanted, this was because he too found you unbelievably beautiful and something that Eddie learned early on in his friendship with Steve was that they did not have the same taste in women which is why they never tried for a threesome before, but you oh your were the exception.

After the drinks were flowing through everyone’s veins and the pizza and wings had been devoured, conversation started out light-hearted with lots of banter between the boys. It was clear they were very good friends; how good was still up for debate but you could clearly see that they cared for each other which warmed your heart because Steve deserves all the love in the world. You had never met anyone like him and were grateful he essentially fell into your lap or more so came into your diner and asked for your number.

“So, what other fantasies were in this diary?” Eddie smirks as he looks between you and Steve with a playful, mischievous look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused about the question but your heart drops when you see Steve shut his eyes and bow his head as if Eddie just divulged a big secret and by his reaction you were pretty sure he did.

“Oh, was I- did she not- fuck.” Eddie’s shoulders slump and his smile fades as he looks at you and Steve with regretful eyes.

“You read my diary?” You ask, turning towards Steve as your voice tumbles out so sullen and soft, making both of their hearts ache.

“I’m-I’m sorry baby, I was gonna tell-” he begins before he’s being cut off by a now pissed off version of you.

“Wait, so this wasn’t me just meeting one of your friends because you genuinely wanted me to, this is because of the things I wrote in my diary? What, were you trying to set up some kind of threesome?” You scoff as both boys look down into their laps, you can feel the shame rolling off their backs and you couldn’t help the betrayal you felt.

“I’m gonna go, I need some time to think.” You say abruptly standing from the booth, but before you could take a step, they’re both stopping you.

“No, baby just let me take you home.”

“I can drive you home, princess.”

They say in unison, and as much as you wanted to stay and possibly entertain this thought of having a threesome, your humiliation wins over and you just need to get as far away from the both of them as possible.

“I’m fine, I’ll talk to you later.” You snap before making your way out of the restaurant, but instead of calling for a taxi like you probably should have, you impulsively decide to begin your three mile walk of shame back home.

You’ve been stewing in your own feelings of treachery for two days, and although you're still upset; thoughts of the frizzy haired metalhead haven’t left your mind. If it came down to really having this fantasy you have laid awake many nights thinking about, fulfilled; would you really want it to be with him, or more importantly them? The burning in your lower belly and the need to snap your legs together, gave that answer away fairly quickly.

As you settle onto your couch with your favorite spicy book in hand, the shrill ring of your house phone has you up within seconds. Your heart begins to beat frantically out of your chest at the thought of it being Steve on the other end, you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive this whole mishap quite yet, even if you haven't stopped daydreaming about it.

“Hello?” Your voice comes out groggy, having not used it for hours as you’ve been cooped up in your apartment, feeling sorry for yourself about something that you were now questioning was as bad as you’ve made it seem.

“Hey.” The voice that comes out over the crackle of the phone speaker isn't Steves but it is familiar to you in the sense that you’d just heard it not even three days ago.

“Eddie?” You question with disbelief.

“Aw, you remembered princess.” You can hear his smug smirk through the red plastic you are now white knuckling.

“What’s up Eddie? Is Steve okay?” You ask, trying to politely move the conversation along.

“I mean he hasn’t eaten for two days and has been sulking in his room if that's what you're wondering.” The new information pulls at your heart strings, you truly didn't think Steve would be too sad over your decision for space; and although what he did wasn't entirely okay, you still wanted nothing more than to run and comfort him.

Eddie takes your silence as an excuse to keep going, “Um, well I was just calling to see if maybe I could come by and talk to you, please?” He breathes heavily into the speaker making you cringe at the loud crackle, you can hear the desperation to fix things in the tone of his voice.

“Yeah sure, we can talk.”

It takes Eddie 20 minutes to get to your apartment after you'd given him your address and safe wishes, which seemed to have taken him by surprise. What was the big deal with telling someone to ‘be safe’?

The knock at your door has your palms clammy, you couldn't deny the idea of seeing Eddie and being alone with him, made you nervous.

Maybe you weren’t as innocent in this as you thought.

“There she is.” The smile that graces the long haired boy’s face along with the rasp in his voice instantly has goosebumps spreading over your heated skin.

“Hi, um c-come in.” You stutter, moving from the doorway, your hand gripped tight on the doorknob in order to close it behind him.

“Nice place.” He says while his eyes roam over the living room, the wide smile never leaves his face until his chocolate orbs find yours.

“Thanks.” You give him a half smile before you're sitting back down on your couch. You bring your slouch sock clad feet up and tuck them underneath you, protectively as if some kind of defense mechanism. Eddie can’t help but think you’re the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

“Sit. So what did you wanna talk about?” Your voice slightly trembles as you motion for the metalhead to sit down in the spot beside you.

“I came here to tell you that Stevie means well, he really would never do anything to hurt you. I swear. I’ve never seen him so upset over someone.” Eddie’s words come out in a jumbled panic as if he’s anxiously trying to get you to see things from another perspective, and before you can get a word in edgewise, he’s continuing. “He just thought it’d be a good idea since me and him used to bang, so I'm familiar, ya know? And he really wanted to make this ‘fantasy’ come true for you.” The way he so casually drops the bomb that him and Steve used to fuck, causes your eyes to grow as wide as saucers.

“Oh fuck! Did you not know that either? Jesus Christ nobody tells me anything, I-Im just gonna shut the fuck up.” He huffs a nervous laugh before running his hands through his brown waves that sit tousled down his mid back.

You wanted to scoff and say yeah, same. But decided against it once you caught a glimpse of his big glassy doe eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just thought because he came to me with the threesome thing and the shit about you watching us fuck around, I-I guess i just thought you had to at least know. I’m- fuck he’s gonna be so pissed at me if you break up with him over this.” Eddie's head falls into his hands before he begins to shake it out of pure disappointment in himself.

“Hey, I'd never break up with someone over their sexual past.” You say before scooting closer to his body and wrapping your arms around his torso to comfort him, the action causes your face to snuggle in close to his leather jacket covered chest that smells like a mixture of musky cologne, weed and cigarette smoke.

“God, you're such a special girl, you know that? I can see why he likes you so much.” Eddie mutters as his hand rubs gently in an up and down motion on your back.

You can’t help but to snuggle in deeper, as his soft touch and low purr of his voice, now lulls you to absolute comfort. You had never felt so safe in any other man's arms other than Steve’s, and the revelations from that fact and the one of Eddie and Steve having already had sex, causes the flames to lick up throughout your body and you already know the answer to whether you want them to be the ones to provide you with this fantasy.

“I wanna do it.” You say without much thought, the words are slightly muffled by Eddie’s jacket but he hears you loud and clear. His eyes widen in surprise as you look up at his face from where your head sits shyly hidden in his chest. Fuck, you were really doing things to him.

“Wanna do what, sweet girl?” He whispers down towards you before moving a stray strand of hair out of your face. He hopes you mean the threesome, but he’s not apposed to fucking you right here on your couch, steve be damned. But he immediately feels guilty at that thought.

“Being with you and Steve at the same time.” You whisper as you blink up at him with a nervous look in your eyes.

“No, no. Say what you really want, princess. Go ahead.” Eddie says back, but this time with a more domineering edge. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip ever so slightly, before he’s rubbing it along your jawline. “You can do it for me, baby. Just say it.”

His face is within inches of yours and you want to kiss him so badly but you also want to give him what he’s asking for.

“I want you and Steve to use me and fuck my holes.” You purr back before bashfully biting at the plump skin of your bottom lip.

Eddie almost chokes on his spit, he was expecting you to say something along the lines of “I want you and Steve to fuck me.” But him and his cock weren’t prepared for “use me and fuck my holes.” Jesus fucking Christ.

“It’s taking everything inside of me to hold back from kissing you right now, angel.” Eddie says as he tries to steady his breathing. “But we’ll save that for later, alright? Call Steve first and then we’ll go from there.” Eddie says before placing a sweet kiss to the top of your head. He stands up and bids you a farewell before awkwardly walking to your front door with a rock hard cock between his legs.

“Hello-” Steve’s hoarse voice croaks out from the other end of the landline.

“Steve, baby? Can we talk?”

You and Steve mutually agreed that your talk would be better to do in person, so he invited you over to the frat house, so you could sit down and talk with him and Eddie. Once you are ready to go, diary in hand. Your excitement from getting to see them, quickly turns to anxious nerves.

This was all so new to you, you wondered if you and Steve's relationship would change? Or how things would be with you and Eddie? What if Steve and Eddie realize they have feelings for each other in the process and leave you in the dust? So many things you never had to think about when this was just your fantasy.

Well you suppose those were all questions you could bring up to them once they were in front of you. You tried your best to not dwell on the unknown, although that was so much easier said than done.

You pull up to the large brick house that sits on a huge grassy lawn. The fraternities greek letter badge sits proudly above the porch. You swallow down your nerves as you grab your bag and head towards the big iron gate that sits wide open, you walk through it leaving yourself no room to hesitate before climbing up the two steps towards the front door.

You knock three times, crossing your arms over your chest when you glanced down and realized how much your cleavage was almost spilling from your shirt.

“Come in!” A voice yells from the other side, making you freeze for a few seconds while a lump forms in your throat at the idea of just walking into someone else’s home. Before you can reach out towards the doorknob, it’s being opened for you and a set of sad, downturned hazel eyes meet yours.

“Hey.” Is all he says before he’s ushering you inside.

Once in, you can’t help but to look around. It’s huge and cleaner then you thought it’d be, considering it houses about a dozen or so guys.

Steve can see the nervousness in your eyes, so he eases it by letting you know he was the only one home and that Eddie would be back any minute now.

“Do you wanna sit in the living room or go up to my room?” Steve asks, as his head slightly perks up with excitement, more so hopeful than anything else.

“Your room is cool.” You say with an awkward nod.

His room was nothing like you’d expected, there were tons of posters all over the walls: cars, bands and naked girls were the theme. You figured it had to do with the excessive masculine facade you had to put on to be part of one of these fraternities.

Steve looks around with you and smiles sheepishly as your eyes meet a poster of two semi naked girls kissing, while one girl has her hand in the other girl's black panties.

You smile in amusement before taking a seat on his big bed, while Steve leans against his wooden desk directly in front of you.

“I-Im so sorry, baby.” He sniffles, his sad eyes melting your heart as he continues. “I promise you, I didn’t go through your diary on purpose, it just fell and when I went to pick it up it was on that page, I-I just couldn’t look away after I seen what was in it, and that’s my fault, a-and I should’ve never went to eddie behind your back. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I just- being without you for these past couple days I realized that I-I love you. And I know we haven't been dating for very long but, I think I’ve known from the moment we stayed up all night on the phone the first very first time, I just knew then that I was gonna fall in love with you.” He unveils, making your breath hitch.

“You love me?” You murmur hesitantly.

“I do. So much, honey.” It’s so sincere, as if he didn’t even have to give it a second thought.

You're up and rushing towards him within seconds, wrapping him up into a big hug. His arms instantly move to the small of your back and before you know it, he’s picking you up. He walks towards the bed, sitting down on the plush mattress before adjusting your legs to straddle his lap.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, baby. These lips, your voice, your beautiful smile. God, I drove myself crazy just thinking about you.” He confesses, and his low husky timber goes straight between your thighs.

“I missed you, too.” You utter as your hands play mindlessly with his brown locks. You look down into his hazel eyes from where you were sat, perched in his lap. “I love you.” The weight that's been removed from your chest with your revelation, feels euphoric. Especially when Steve's lashes flutter and a pretty smile begins to stir on his once saddened face.

Your boyfriend's fingertips dig into your waist as his grip tightens, holding you close to him in fear of losing you again. His desperation, palpable.

“Fuck, you just made me the happiest man alive.” He whispers, a wide smile taking over his face as he snuggles his head, lovingly into your chest.

“Steve?” You whisper back, hands never leaving his fluffy mane.

“What is it, honey?” He asks, his eyes snapping back up to yours with curiosity.

“I wanna do the threesome.” You quickly blurt, before cowering away when you noticed how wide his eyes had gotten.

“Baby, n-no. You don’t have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. You can just keep it as a fantasy. If it’s something you’d like to do in the future, then we can talk about it then. I'm not gonna lose you again.” He sighs, closing the small gap between your bodies by possessively bringing you chest to chest with him, as his grip tightens to a nearly painful level, causing you to whimper.

“I um, I know about you and Eddie.” You admit, feeling his body tense beneath you. The look in his eyes is a mixture of fear and longing.

“He told you?” It comes out sharper than he intended, but that wasn't for Eddie to confess. You were his, he should've been the one to tell you his secrets.

“Trust me, he didn’t mean to. He seemed to be just as in the dark about things as I was.” You tease gently.

Steve’s eyes fill with regret at your words, “I know, and I’m sorry baby. So fucking sorry.” He murmurs into your skin before he’s attacking your chest with kisses.

“I forgive you, Stevie.” You insist, silently trying to work up the nerve to say what you really want to say. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” The boy beneath you scrunches his face up in confusion. You take a shuddering breath before you continue. “You and Eddie together.”

He sighs, eyes slightly darkening before he's smirking up at you. “That get you goin’, pretty girl?”

“Mmhm, I touched myself thinking about it.” Your confession has Steve’s eyes blowing wide with lust.

“Mmm, played with that pretty little pussy to the thought of what? Hm, me getting fucked?” He groans when you can’t help but to grind your now throbbing center against his growing erection.

Before things have a chance to heat up any further, Eddie pops his head in through the doorway, making you and Steve jump and gasp at the intrusion.

“Sorry for interrupting.” Eddie says glumly, “should I uh, go?” He points his thumb behind his shoulder towards the door, but you can clearly see from the look in his eyes that the last thing he wants to do is leave.

“No, c’mere.” You encourage but Eddie hesitates for a moment, before he begins taking a few steps over to you and Steve. He stands right behind you, making you beam at him from over your shoulder.

“Princess over here was just telling me something very interesting.” Steve snickers up at the metalhead, who's looking down at both of you with intense affection.

“Oh yeah? And what was that, pretty boy?” Eddie asks, his eyes never leaving the side of your face.

“She said she touched her tight little cunt while she thought about you fucking me.” Steve’s once hazel eyes are now black and staring you down like a hungry predator.

“That true, sweet thing?” Eddie returns, before taking your chin between his fingers and bringing your face closer towards his, for a better view.

“Yes sir.” It slips out between your lips without much thought, but the men on either side of you groan in satisfaction. Now, you’re able to feel the metalheads hardening cock poke at your lower back.

“Before we start, I um, I brought something.” You admit before hopping off of Steve’s lap and out of the perfect little sandwich they had created on either side of you.

You dig through your bag that you had set down on Steve’s dresser, retrieving the object that brought you to this very moment. You turn back towards the boys, realizing their gaze hasn't left you since you first stood up. You clutch the black leather book to your chest as Steve and Eddie’s eyes follow you with curious mischief.

“Want you to look through this together, so you can, maybe see some things I’d like to try, since we’re crossing one fantasy off the list.” You hold it out for one of them to take, Eddie moves quicker than Steve, eagerly ripping the diary from your hands.

“Hey, she's my girlfriend.” The possessiveness in the honey eyed boy's voice, has you biting at your lip from how hot you find it.

“She’s ours tonight, big boy.” Eddie retorts, and you don’t want to admit how much the word ours, has your tummy swooping with excitement.

Eddie cackles at Steve's face before he’s taking a seat beside him, so close their thighs are touching.

“Let’s see here.” Eddie sings, as he quickly flips through the more boring pages of random writings and doodles. Until a page finally captures his attention. “Ah ha.” He says with a sly grin, as his finger follows after every word he’s reading.

“Being dominated and degraded, huh?” The long haired boy beams up at you from beneath his lashes, as if he were seeing you in a new light.

“Has Stevie ever done any of this stuff?” Eddie asks curiously, no judgment behind his words.

You shake your head no while Steve stays silent, his cheeks pinkening in the process.

“Yeah, baby boy’s more submissive, isn't he? Used to get so hard when I’d boss him around.” Eddie sighs as if in some far off memory.

Steve’s not quite used to talking about being with a man in front of you or any woman, for that matter so his shoulders tense at Eddie’s confession. You quickly ease him by running your hand along his jaw, and up into his hair, before grabbing and tugging harshly, surprising both boys with the abrupt switch.

“Is that true, baby? You like being bossed around?” Steve begins to stammer as his eyes grow glossy with desire.

“Fuck, I’m gonna have a lot of fun with the both of you.” Eddie smirks as he shakes his head in disbelief.

After the boys had taken their time kissing you, and getting you all worked up and whimpering for them. They began taking your clothes off. Both of them moaning when the fact that you hadn’t been wearing a bra or panties was revealed.

Once their gawking and dirty words had stopped, you and Eddie began working on pulling all of Steve’s clothes off, leaving you both stark naked; all the while Eddie was fully dressed in his black and leather.

“Get on your knees, both of you.” He demands, and you and Steve obey with no questions asked; like good little pets. Eddie was so achingly hard from just that thought alone.

You and your boyfriend worked together to get the metalheads belt and jeans undone and down his creamy thighs. His hard cock bobbing out between yours and Steve's face. Your eyes widen at the size, but Steve pays no mind to it; reminding you that they’ve already done this, you're the one that's new here. To your surprise, there was no jealousy in that conclusion.

“Open.” Eddie demands again, leaving you and Steve to submit to his every order, and you both do without any hesitation. Opening up your mouths and lulling your tongues out in the process, leaving Eddie to slap his fat leaking tip against your wet and pink, pillowy muscles.

The long haired boy above you, growls as his eyes take in the sight before him. You and Steve are on your knees for him with your tongues out, allowing him to slap his throbbing cock against them. He’s had his share of threesomes, but none have ever made him feel like this.

Steve finally has enough of the teasing, eagerly wrapping his lips around Eddie’s tip and sucking before he swallows it down to the hilt with no problem. Seeing your boyfriend take Eddie so perfectly, has you grinding your hips against nothing. Desperately wanting to move your hand between your thighs and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Share with your girlfriend Stevie, no need to be greedy. There's enough of me to go around.” Eddie insists, with his signature devilish smirk.

“Shut the fuck up.” Steve retorts, making you laugh at their boyish banter.

Steve looks at you with a bashful smile, before he’s wrapping his hand around Eddie’s shaft and bringing it closer to your awaiting mouth.

“Go ahead, suck his cock, baby.” Steve affirms, as if you needed the encouragement. You wrap your lips around Eddie, hungirly taking him as far back as you could.

You find a steady pace, bobbing your head up and down on him as you twist your hand along the inches you can’t take.

“Oh fuck. That’s a good girl.” Eddie groans, fisting your hair into a ponytail. He takes the bottom of his band tee and sticks it between his teeth, and your eyes flicker up to the trail of hair that leads up to his belly button and over his toned abs. You realize as his whole torso is on display, that he has both of his pink, pebbled nipples pierced.

“You’re both so fucking greedy for this cock, jesus.” Eddie huffs, but he’s the complete opposite of upset or annoyed, fuck no. He’s vibrating, the most excited and turned on he’s probably ever been in his life.

“Open your mouths, hands behind your back.” Another demand you both follow instantly.

Eddie grabs the end of his shaft in his hand and fucks into Steve’s mouth, four thrusts in and he’s removing himself and bringing his cock to your lips. He goes back and forth between your throats, as spit drips off of his dick and into puddles on the floor.

“Up.” He says with a stern vibrato.

“You. lay on the bed with your head upside down, I want it hanging off the edge.” He says, and you make quick work at following his orders.

“Good girl.” He whispers sweetly, before bending down and catching your lips in a dirty, hunger filled kiss.

“Alright, I want you to fuck her wet little cunt while I fuck her throat. How’s that sound, big boy?”

Steve nods his head in agreement, as an excited smile and hungry eyes find your awaiting, pliant body. Your boyfriend climbs over you, nestling himself between your thighs. He brings two fingers between your legs and rubs at your folds, gauging whether or not he needs to get you wetter for him. But to his contentment, you're already soaked and dripping. He grabs his hard, leaking cock and rubs it along your slit before breaching your hole.

“Mmm.” Steve hums in delight, as he reaches the depths of your pussy, so warm and tight.

Eddie begins to slide his cock between your lips, and you're quickly being filled at both ends. You can't help but to relish in it, the fantasy you’ve had for years, playing out before your very eyes, with you as a participant. The thought had you growing wetter and your throat relaxing while both boys pounded into you.

“She takes cock so well, doesn't she?” You hear Steve question above you.

“So fucking good, she’s got my goddamn legs shaking from this tight little throat.” Eddie growls as he thrusts harder with each word. You hear the smacking of their lips, as they both groan and whimper between tongue filled kisses.

“Shit, shit. I gotta stop or I'm gonna come.” Eddie pants, removing himself as quickly as possible.

He couldn't let this be over, yet.

Steve pulls out too, looking to Eddie for his next command.

“Princess wants to watch us mess around, then that's what princess is gonna get.” Eddie says, throwing you a wicked smile, as he moves in closer to Steve. He grabs his cock and fists it before crashing their lips back together.

You move towards the top of the bed, for the perfect view. But also to be out of their way, you didn't want there to be any distractions from this.

They start out kissing and stroking each other's cocks. Their tongues lapping together, sloppily as desperate moans flow through the room.

Your fingers find their way between your thighs, the tips move in a circle over your throbbing bud and you bite at your lip as your eyes never leave the scene in front of you.

Eddie now has Steve on all fours, while the metalhead stands behind him. He falls to his knees, before bringing his tongue to the other boy's rim. He fucks him with it, making Steve mewl all the while his eyes bore into yours. You can tell he’s so turned on; his hair is a mess, his face is flushed and his eyes are glossed over with desire. The long haired boy begins prodding at your boyfriend's hole with his fingers, stretching him out enough to take his cock that is now aching, painfully.

“You ready to give our girl a show, Stevie?” Eddie murmurs into his ear, while his eyes finally take in the image of you, laid out for them; legs spread wide as you touch yourself. He can’t help but want you closer.

“Come help me, baby.” Eddie insists, as he rubs his cock against Steve’s hole.

“Yes, sir.” You purr, crawling across the bed before you're stopping just beside him.

“Such a good girl.” He praises as both boys watch your every movement. “Hold his ass open for me, can you do that, sweetheart?” You nod at his words.

“Yes sir, I can do that.” And you do, grabbing at both of Steve’s plump cheeks and pulling them apart, as the metalhead begins pushing into his tight hole. They both groan in unison as Eddie buries himself inside the pliant boy beneath him.

“Fuck, that looks so good.” You can't help but utter as you stare at the way Steve stretches around Eddie.

“Yeah? Like the way your boyfriend's tight little hole looks getting stuffed with my big cock?” He grunts, his hips speeding up as he fucks Steve with a force that knocks the wooden headboard repeatedly into the wall.

Steve’s drooling and whimpering into the mattress, as his eyes roll back with pleasure. Eddie’s cock has been hitting his prostate dead on and he’s so close to coming.

“I, I'm gonna come.” Steve whines.

“No. You’re. Not.” Eddie growls, as he slowly pulls out of the warm, tight hole that has always taken his cock so perfectly.

“Pretty girl deserves to be fucked too, doesn’t she?” The older boy smirks, slapping the round globe of Steve’s ass.

“Switch places.” Eddie commands.

You bend over, ass up in the air; mimicking the exact position your boyfriend was just in.

“Jesus, you’ve got some real pretty holes, baby.” Eddie cooed, as his thumbs spread you out.

“You ever played with her little asshole, Harrington?” He asks, before spitting a glob right onto your puckered hole.

“Just with my fingers.” Steve admits, bashfully.

“That’s a shame. We’ll have to change that another time, but right now I’m dying to stretch out this little cunt. Fuck, she’s dripping. Just begging to be fucked.” He boasts, then he’s sinking his two middle fingers into your cunt, all the while he rubs his thumb over your spit filled asshole.

He works his fingers inside of you, almost immediately finding your sweet spot, which instantly has you whining and biting at the bed sheets.

“Fuck yeah, so fucking ready for me.” Eddie murmurs under his breath, before he’s removing his fingers and replacing them with his much bigger cock. “Mmm, fuck.” He groans as his head falls back and a sigh of pleasure leaves his parted lips.

Steve sits with his back against the headboard as he watches your bodies move together so effortlessly. He can't take it anymore, so he starts palming at his needy cock as he watches the two people he cares about most, captivate and pleasure each other.

“Get your ass over here, big boy. Come fuck her mouth for me.”

Steve’s moving before the demand fully leaves Eddie’s mouth, making you both giggle at his desperation. “With pleasure.” The honey eyed boy marvels, as he lays down with you between his thighs. His sensitive tip sits just inches from your lips, so you grab it and incase him in your wet mouth as you begin to suck him off with gusto.

They both begin to fuck into you, like they did when this all first started. Your wetness drips down both sets of balls, and Steve can’t take his eyes off of the way you're working his cock in and out of your mouth. Your eyes are watering and spit is dripping from your chin before you take him all the way back into your throat. You shake your head, making him whimper as his eyes roll back.

“Need to feel you, Stevie.” Eddie groans, “help me stretch her little pussy out.” He’s practically begging the pretty boy, and your body slightly tenses at the idea of both of them inside of you, stretching you out together.

“That okay, sweet girl?” Steve asks you, tenderly.

“Please.” Is all you can mewl, as you tighten around Eddie.

“Oh yeah, she’s very okay with it.” Eddie teases, as he brings both palms down harshly slapping at your ass, while he waits for Steve to make his way underneath you.

Finally, he sheethes his cock in right alongside his roommates. Stretching you out to maximum capacity, and you can’t hold back the loud moans and sobs that are ripped from your throat.

Once the sharp pain is gone and you're used to the stretch, they begin snapping their hips in unison. The feeling is so indescribable, as both cocks rub together inside of you. You're all so wet and slippery and both boys are incredibly hard, but they only grow harder as their tips rub together between your walls.

“Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck, want you fill this pussy up with me, baby.” Eddie groans as he talks directly to Steve. His words cause you to clench around them.

“I'm gonna come, please don’t stop. Please don't come yet.” You babble.

“We're not coming until you do, honey.” Steve chokes, trying not to moan and curse as you tighten up even more, pushing their cocks together with force.

Eddie wraps your hair around his knuckles and pulls, causing your head to snap back as your eyes meet his, upside down.

“You gonna come on our cocks? Hm? Make a fucking mess on us.” He encourages.

Both boys' hands fall to your hips, right over each other as they bring you down harder on their dicks, that are so close to exploding.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You squeal as your body begins to jerk and shake with intensity. You come so hard you almost black out, falling onto Steve's chest. He snuggles you in closer, holding you tight as him and Eddie continue to fuck into you. Two sets of expletives fall from their mouths as their cocks twitch against each other and they empty their balls deep inside of you.

You all fall into a heap of tangled limbs, as you and both boys fight to catch your breath. Everyones silent for a few minutes, trying to take in the events that just took place.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two alone.” Eddie mumbles with sorrowful eyes, as if he’d felt like he worn out his welcome.

“No, stay.” You and Steve mutually implore.

“You want me to stay?” He asks, unsure if it was a good idea.

“We want you to stay.”

★ 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

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angel-eyes05 · 11 months

Text

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count: 4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late.

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end.

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #spider-woman reader #across the spiderverse #fem!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #spiderman #spider man #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse

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otaku553 · 6 months

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Ok so I have been stewing this crossover au in my brain nonstop for the past few days and. I am nothing if not committed to the bit, so. Volume cover redraws :)

Here are the originals:

If you want to read more about my one piece spy x family crossover, keep reading!

So the idea is simple! Crossover reincarnation au where ASL is reborn in Spy x Family. They’re each born separately and none of them are born with the same names as their previous lives, and with no way of finding each other, they each find their own thing to do in the world.

Sabo, too used to the dangers of being a spy, eventually finds a cause to devote himself to again, in preventing war from engulfing the country he was reborn in. Ace, drawn to fire as he was in his previous life, used arson as a means to rob rich people for sustenance and survival, and is eventually scouted and hired by Garden as a fire specialist and assassin. And Luffy, though born in perhaps the poorest condition, grows up happily and takes whatever part time jobs he wants to do.

The thing about Sabo is that, as much as he seems like a young man of good repute and high standing within society, everyone in WISE knows that he is a massive nuisance. Nobody knew in the beginning how a child less than half the age of most of their veteran agents could have the same skills and knowledge in their profession. Sabo was— and still is— hyper competent, and by the time WISE figured out just how much of a menace to society he was, it was too late.

Ace forgot for the first few years of his new life that he wasn’t made of fire, and consequently, received multiple accidental burns. This did not deter him, however, from growing up to be a very skilled arsonist, well-practiced in every which way to start a dumpster fire or house fire. As a teenage he would use this often to draw attention as he robbed rich people blind. When he was caught, he was given an ultimatum by Garden: join them and receive payment for starting fires and causing problems under contract, or face the government and authorities for his crimes. Begrudgingly, he joined Garden, but eventually comes to appreciate that he can make substantial money in his element.

Luffy is Luffy. No telepathy or experimentation, no fancy schools, no gimmicks or secret identities. But he has still lived an extremely colorful life in this world, full of fascinating and kind individuals who have helped him grow up healthy and relatively happy. He goes where he is free, and he takes whatever part time jobs he wants in order to make the minimum he needs to survive.

Ace and Sabo find each other first, in their late teens, and neither of them realize that the other remembers their previous life, but both refuse to separate. (Sabo thinks Ace doesn’t remember, because Ace didn’t recognize him. Ace never saw Sabo grow up past 10, however, so he doesn’t recognize older Sabo immediately. By the time he does realize who exactly Sabo is, Sabo has backtracked and pretends to know Ace from a dream, or from somewhere else.)

Sabo’s attachment to Ace, predictably, causes problems between Sabo and WISE, but by then, Sabo is indispensable to the organization, and they make an exception for Sabo to be able to remain with Ace, so long as Ace never finds out what Sabo’s actual job is. Ace, on the other hand, hides his job because he doesn’t want his brother, who he has just found and who does not know Ace well enough yet, to know that he makes a living from killing people.

And they find Luffy sometime afterwards, prior to the beginning of the Spy x Family canon. Luffy figures out, not long after moving in with his brothers, both of his brothers’ secret occupations and the fact that both of them remember their past memories. He thinks it is common knowledge, however, and so he never brings it up.

#one piece #spy x family crossover #sabo #monkey d luffy #portgas d ace #crossover #I have so many ideas for this au #I’ll probably write like a drabble series for it #maybe. if I get around to it #extra things:#Loid and sabo get paired on a nonzero number of missions as siblings #they are only 6 years apart in age and they’re both blond so WISE is like.. ‘it’s free real estate’#every time this happens sabo finds a way to sneak into conversations that they’re actually cousins instead #this annoys loid a LOT because he thinks sabo can’t keep a cover to save his life. sabo is aware but he only has 2 brothers #and even in disguise he refuses to let someone else take ace and luffy’s place #ace’s codename within Garden is either ‘flame lily’ or ‘pyracantha’#the latter being another name for the firethorn plant #yor has only heard of him in passing and has not met him in person before. but she knows that she is sent whenever he blunders and lets #someone see his face #Luffy is kind of just chilling! he takes a lot of part time jobs everywhere #to the point that loid is briefly worried that he’s a tail or stalker or something since he keeps seeing luffy around #Anya really loves playing with Luffy though because luffy has such vivid thoughts of the ocean and being a pirate #ok that’s it for now #I am very. brainrotting

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radiosteve · 7 months

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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.”

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