Tumgik
#guitar approach notes
guitarguitarworld · 11 months
Text
MINOR TOPIC-EASIER WAY TO IMPROVISE WITH MODES
Minor topic-improvising on modes mad easier for guitar
CLICK SUBSCRIBE! minor topic-an easier way to improvise with modes of music IMPORTANT: Please watch video above for detailed info: Hi Guys, Today, a quick look at another way of exploiting modes/improvisation on the guitar fingerboard. We will be creating music via concepts/musical tools based on this minor shape. Why do this? Because with this 5 fret shape arpeggio we can easily…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
1 note · View note
hanjsquokka · 2 months
Text
Stray Kids × Chase Atlantic [ OT8 ]
Tumblr media
🎸 SYNOPSIS : A series of eight unrelated one shots revolving around each member of Stray Kids, in the famous club 5-STAR.
GENRE : smut (with slight plot)
PAIRING : stray kids ot8 × f!reader
CONTENT WARNING : honestly pure filth, swearing, alcohol, getting high, smoking, weed, smut (warnings in each one-shot!)
WORD COUNT : 2K (ongoing)
AUTHOR'S NOTE : Happy Stray Kids day!! It's my first anniversary with them so I made these, hope you guys enjoy <3
Tumblr media
01. bang chan × slow down (2K words)
↳ There was something about the way he looked at you that made you squeeze your thighs together, your focus faltering as you did his eye makeup. However, your predicament might get a solution when you overhear a conversation you weren't supposed to.
02. lee know × swim (1.7K words)
↳ After a nasty break-up with your loser ex, you head to your favorite club to let loose, when the bartender catches your eye. He's managed to make you laugh more than you had all week and slowly you find yourself losing focus on his words and more on his veiny hands.
03. seo changbin × okay
↳ You honestly wanted to leave the club as soon as you saw Changbin's face, but something made you stay. You regretted your decision when he approached you, but no one could deny the tension floating between you both that he was eager to get rid of.
04. hwang hyunjin × heaven and back
↳ You weren't a club girl. Anyone who knew you knew that. That was exactly why you found yourself in the club, talking up with the most handsome man you've ever met in your entire life, someone who didn't know your past and was only focused on giving you a good time.
05. han jisung × meddle about
↳ He was stunning. Absolutely alluring the moment you saw him step onto the stage. And it was like he was looking right at you with a smirk, strumming his electric guitar to the music. Who were you to deny when he asked to take you somewhere private?
06. lee felix × tidal wave
↳ You hadn't expected to run into Felix at someplace like a club but you were glad you did. The alcohol coursing through your body finally gave you the courage to do something you've been wanting to do for the past few months — talk with your crush. But he had a lot more planned than just talking.
07. kim seungmin × moonlight
↳ Was it cliché you were in love with your best friend? Maybe it was, but it was the truth. After not seeing him for months, you meet in the oddest of places — a club. Something about him was different, but that made you want him that much more.
08. yang jeongin × church
↳ More than the band playing on stage, you were interested by the security guard standing near the stage. He looked exactly like your type and you weren't going to leave until you at least got his phone number. But sometimes, you got more than what you bargained for.
Tumblr media
©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited
651 notes · View notes
radiosteve · 7 months
Text
I Knew You
Tumblr media
Summary: You and Steve Harrington have hated each other ever since sixth grade, which made living next door to him all the more miserable. It hadn't always been like that though, shared smiles and loving gestures in secret before popularity went to his head. But now, Steve somehow keeps finding ways to squeeze himself back into your life, making you question if the boy you once knew, the one you might have loved, still lived somewhere within him.
Note: Its been a bit since I last posted, but I had this idea and really wanted to write it. I'm currently drowning with work and school stuff for my masters so my next fic might take a hot minute and will definitely be shorter. This takes place in the fall after season 4 and both Eddie and Max survived with minimal injuries. It’s also partially inspired by Cardigan by Taylor Swift, hence the lyrics as chapter titles. This ended up being way longer than I intended for it to be, but I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: 18+, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as Baby), smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), enemies to lovers, language, mentions of blood/injuries, some cannon divergence, fluff, angst, slowburn.
Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader
Word count: 30.5k (I got carried away)
I knew I’d curse you for the longest time
The last salt of the summer air lazed its way through the breeze, picking up the fresh fallen leaves with it. There wasn’t enough foliage on the ground to worry about raking them just yet, but it still brought a chill down your spine at the thought of autumn’s rapid approach. You were sitting on the window bench in your room with a book in your hands and your back against the wall as the breeze floated through the open window, making the curtains dance despite being drawn back. It was a moment of quiet, something you desperately needed.
You were lost in words on the page before you, taking them in sentence after sentence, until the loud slam of a door interrupted your trance. The sound of the door was followed by singing, loud and obnoxious singing. More specifically, Steve Harrington’s loud and obnoxious singing. He had just strolled into his room, playing air guitar along to whatever metal song he was bellowing. A metal song that you presumed Eddie had played so many times on the tape player in his van that it somehow ingrained itself into Steve’s pop-hits brain. 
You sighed, shaking your head to try and brush off the noise as if this was a daily occurrence. Well, it almost was, in some form or another. You lived next door to Steve Harrington for as long as you could remember. Your bedroom windows faced each other too, allowing each of you to gain small, often unwelcome, glimpses into the other’s life. Just about every girl in school had come up to you at least once to tell you how lucky you were to have such an easy way to see Steve Harrington. Then they’d always proceed to ask if they could join you for a sleepover at your house, no doubt just to get a chance to spy on the boy in his natural habitat. 
Your eyes flitted back down to the page, stuck on the same sentence ever since your ears were met with the unwelcome disturbance that was Steve Harrington’s singing. He’d moved on from singing to vocalizing the song’s guitar solo, which was somehow even more annoying. Steve’s arms moved wildly up and down his fake guitar as he banged his head up and down. If you weren’t so annoyed you’d honestly be impressed by the amount of endurance Steve’s performance surely required. But you were annoyed. Annoyed enough to finally speak up. 
“Do you constantly have to make so much noise or do you just like to hear the sound of your own voice?” your remark rang out through the open window, trickling through the air to reach Steve’s room. You didn’t look up from your book, doing your best to look unbothered. Steve stopped singing and thrashing about. His heavy breaths evened out slightly before he responded, slowly approaching the window sill.
“Do you constantly have a stick up your ass or do you just like to pretend that you do?” your eyes widened at that, putting your book to the side as you turned to face the window, to face Steve. He had a smirk on his lips, one that you were more than familiar with by now. It was the smirk he flashed each time he said something that he knew would piss you off. Quite frankly, it was the expression you were most familiar with seeing Steve wear at this point in your life. 
“If there’s a stick up my ass then it's only because you put it there,” it was a lame comeback. You knew it. Steve knew it. But they can’t all be winners. You winced as the words fell from your lips, waiting for Steve’s retaliation, which was sure to be unsavory.
“I don’t recall ever doing that. But Baby, if you bend over I’d be more than happy to oblige,” Steve's smirk grew wider. Whether it was the stupid nickname or the sexual nature of his response that caused the flash of his pearly teeth, you didn’t know. However, you did know that you hated it, all of it. You hated that you constantly walked right into his dumb little comebacks. You hated that he seemingly had an endless supply of them just for you. You hated the day that the stupid nickname was ever aimed in your direction and you hated that Steve Harrington was the one to do it. 
It was late September 1978. Summer was still putting up a fight, albeit a weak one, to keep its warmth in the air. It had rained the night before, washing away the fresh fallen leaves to get stuck in the gutters along the roof or in the storm drains beside the narrow streets. School had only started back up a few weeks ago, and somehow, Steve found himself climbing the popularity ranks. It was a big deal for a sixth grader who’d only just begun his journey at Hawkins Middle to be so admired so fast, but Steve was already starting to see people worship the ground he walked on. He liked the idea of it, that he could waltz through the door of some place and up and run it so soon. His dad always said that the Harringtons were winners, and Steve knew he would be nothing if he disappointed his dad. 
Steve was walking to school that morning, Tommy and Carol to his left as a group full of his classmates followed closely behind. It was as if Steve had his very own entourage. They were a few blocks from the school when he saw it, a bike abandoned on the grass next to the sidewalk. There was a backpack beside it too, laying face down as if it had been thrown off in haste. It didn’t take long for Steve to realize why the bike before him looked so familiar. It was the same one he had seen you on almost every day that summer. The bike you rode to the library, to Lover’s Lake, to the movie theater, to the quarry. As long as it was a place with a good story waiting to be watched or read, or a quiet environment to immerse yourself in a good book, someone was sure to find you there with that bike. 
Steve panicked for a moment, preparing himself to run to the police station and report that you had been kidnapped. But then he looked up. You were hunched over the sidewalk a few yards up, picking at something on the surface of the cement. Steve’s legs moved, the others following, and stopped once again, this time only a few feet from where you sat on the sidewalk. Steve’s brows furrowed as he looked down, finally getting a good look at what you were doing. 
You sat there, slowly and gently peeling the dried worms from the sidewalk. Then you parted the grass next to the sidewalk, putting the worm down to get it as close to the soil as possible. Steve watched you curiously as you moved on to the next worm. It was then that the breeze picked up a bit, shifting away the hair that covered your face. Steve saw it, the tear tracks running down your cheeks as you struggled with the worms that Steve was sure were already dead. A few chuckles sounded from the group behind Steve, and suddenly he remembered that it was not just you and him on that sidewalk.
You too had suddenly become aware of your audience then, head snapping up to see the group in front of you. Your eyes landed on Steve. His expression was etched with empathy, an emotion Steve still held onto no matter how much Tommy tried to strip it from him in his sudden rise to king status. At that moment you didn’t care about the others or the tears that still leaked down your soft cheeks. You cared about the poor worms that stuck to the sidewalk. Your gaze landed on Steve, appealing to the boy who lived beside you for so many years.
“The rain,” you sniffled and Steve’s heart ached at the sound. He’d seen you cry before, as he was sure you had seen him cry too, through the cracks in the curtains obscuring bedroom windows. Each time Steve had to stop himself from marching over to your house and wrapping you in a comforting hug. It was an urge that he still had to repress, even here and now. “The rain cools down the sidewalk and the worms like to come out onto it. But it- it’s not raining anymore. It's too hot for them now. They- they’re burning alive,” fresh tears fell, replacing the old ones. They ran races against each other, fighting to be the first to drip off of your chin and onto the cement below. Steve’s mouth opened, but he was cut off by the boy beside him.
“Whatever, worm girl. Just move out of the way so we can get to school,” Tommy’s words rang through the air, the entourage laughing at you from behind him. Steve could picture it now, you’d spend the rest of middle and high school deemed as the worm girl. You’d hide in all of your classes, eat lunch by yourself in the library, and ignore the taunts that echoed throughout the hallway. Worm girl, worm girl, worm girl. You’d leave Hawkins the day after graduation, a car full of boxes, your life packed up and tucked away in each, and you’d never return. You’d start a new life in a new city that only knows you by your real name, not some playground-esque tease that stupid Tommy Hagan awarded you in 6th grade. You’d be happy there, build a place you could call home, find your one true love, and Steve would never see you again. 
Steve had to stop this now. He had to bury the name worm girl in the ground before it could ever fully emerge. And there was only one way that Steve’s prepubescent brain could think how. Your eyes flickered from Tommy before landing back on Steve, willing him to say something, to defend you. Maybe that was too much to ask.
“Damn, that was lame. Worm girl, really? Are we five?” Steve pulled his gaze from yours. He couldn’t bear to see the look of hope that blossomed in your eyes. Not with what he was about to say next. “I mean, if anything, we should call her Baby since she’s crying like one,” small giggles sounded off behind Steve before being overtaken by full-blown giggles and laughs. And there it was. Steve’s master plan had come to fruition. Replace a bad nickname with a not-as-bad nickname. It wasn’t a great plan, he knew that, especially when he saw the scrunch of your brows and the quiver of your bottom lip, but it was the best that Steve’s 11-year-old thoughts could conjure on such short notice. And Baby really wasn’t that bad. It's a term of endearment for Christ's sake. Or at least that’s what Steve would tell himself.
Tommy laughed from beside Steve, throwing an arm over Carol and guiding her to walk around you. The others followed, hurling a few taunting calls of ‘Baby’ at you as they walked by. You looked back down at the ground, refocusing yourself on the task at hand, ignoring the cracks running along the foundations of your heart. Maybe Steve wasn’t the same boy you had grown up with. Maybe his middle school fame had gone to his head more than you thought it would. More than you hoped it would.
You had just freed another dried worm from its place on the sidewalk when you saw it. A pair of Nikes in front of you. Steve Harrington’s pair of Nikes. He hadn’t gone with the others. It was like he was rooted to the spot. You placed the worm into the depths of the grass, tilting your head to look up at the boy towering over you.
“Screw you, Steve,” you spoke harshly, doing your best to let venom lace your words despite the shake in your voice. Steve didn’t say anything back. He just crouched down in front of you, gently picking up the last worm from the sidewalk. He copied what you had done, parting the grass to place the worm close to the damp earth below. Steve stood up then, walking back to the group that had now passed you, heading towards the school. They hadn’t even noticed he was gone. 
Steve rejoined them, sticking to the back of the group to not draw attention to his momentary absence. He looked back at you then, finding you with your head turned over your shoulder, already gazing at him with confusion plastered across your face. He shot you a soft smile, one that he had typically reserved just for you. It only lasted a moment, but for that moment you were more perplexed than before.
In that smile was Steve. The Steve. The one that had plaid wallpaper in his room and hand-drawn pictures of cars taped to the walls (some that you had drawn for him). He was the boy who had a slew of green army men sitting on his window sill, the same ones that he had given you. They sat pointing towards the street out front, and never ever at you. They protected both of your rooms. The soldiers protected them from monsters, wizards, ghosts, and disappointed parents. At that moment, Steve was the boy next door who left messages taped to his window for you to see. The boy who stayed a few paces behind your bike after school to make sure you got home safely. He was the boy who promised to love you always before placing a peck on your lips when you were both five. He was the boy you knew, not the one who humiliated you in front of his friends. 
But the moment ended. The smile dropped from Steve’s face as quickly as it had appeared. He turned his head back around, putting more and more distance between the two of you. You watched him for a moment longer until you finally managed to tear your gaze from his retreating figure. You moved then, leaning over the grass to see the worm that Steve had placed there, worried that he left it too high up. Most of the worms were dead long before you got there, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from trying to help them. All the worms in the grass were lifeless and unmoving despite your efforts. All except one. It was the worm Steve had placed there.
You jumped into action then, using your fingers to dig a hole in the dirt. As quickly as you could, you placed the worm into the hole, covering it with the fresh soil. Its tail poked out just a bit and you watched with bated breath as it slowly retracted, moving deeper into the ground below. You glanced up at the sidewalk again, expecting to still see Steve in the distance, but he was gone. Over the hill and out of your eye line, just like the worm. 
“Don’t call me that,” you bit through gritted teeth and Steve just laughed. His stupid, obnoxious, loud laugh. The one that warned you that danger was near anytime you heard it in the hallway in high school. 
“Would you prefer I call you something else?” Steve pondered dramatically, bringing a finger to his lip and glancing up as if he were trying to remember something. “Maybe worm-” Steve began, a look of anger more prominent on your face now.
“Fuck you, Steve,” you cut him off before he could finish his taunt. He was about to say something else, no doubt another snarky comment that you could definitely afford to miss. It was about to spring from his lips when Steve was met with the sound of your window slamming shut. You locked it too, pulling the curtains closed and retreating to your bed, no longer in the mood to read. Steve stared at the purple curtains now blocking his view of you. Oh, how he hated that specific shade, knowing that they were the only thing keeping him from gazing at you. 
Steve closed his window too, locking it the same as you had. But he kept his curtains open, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of you later. The hand-drawn cars that once lined his walls were replaced by movie posters, ones he had gotten for free from work. He still had the army men littered along the window sill though. Most of them had been knocked over on their sides and Steve never bothered to pick them back up. They pointed at your room now, though Steve never intended for them to do so, unlike you who had purposefully aimed your soldiers at Steve’s window no more than a few days after Wormageddon.
Steve sat back on his bed, laying down and placing his arms under his head. He’d made you mad. Gotten you all riled up, just as he had planned from the second you opened your mouth. So why did he not feel better right now? Why did his stomach hurt and his heart refused to rest? This battle was over. The war waged on but this was still a victory worth noting in the imaginary books. He hadn’t gotten the final word but he still won nonetheless. Isn’t that what he was supposed to do? He was a Harrington after all, and Harringtons were winners. Right? 
But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss
The sun crept along the horizon, unwilling to give in to the moon just yet. Orange and pink illuminated your room through the open curtains. You sat at your vanity, applying a final layer of gloss to your lips before smacking them together. Unbeknownst to you, Steve had been watching you through the window. He admired the effort you took while getting ready, although he knew you didn’t need it. Steve would never admit it, he’d repressed it for far too long, but he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. 
You turned towards your closet, digging through it to find a pair of shoes that matched your outfit. Steve couldn’t help the clawing desire to know what you were getting ready for. There weren’t any parties that he knew of that night. Maybe you were hanging out with Nancy and Robin. He couldn’t imagine why you’d need to get dressed up for that though. Steve wished your window was open. He would lean on his window sill, asking about your plans for the evening. He’d say it in that snarky Steve Harrington way. The way he knew would elicit an eye roll in response. But maybe you’d give in and tell him. Maybe you’d invite him to go with you. Or maybe Steve was letting fantasy mix with reality.
A car horn sounded from outside, pulling Steve from his thoughts with a jump. He didn’t realize he was still standing at his window staring at you. At least he hadn’t until you rushed to your window, trying to get a glimpse of the vehicle out front. Your eyes locked with Steve’s then and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. You brushed it off, refocusing on why you had come to the window in the first place. Parked on the street in front of your house sat a van. A beat-up, rusty, falling apart at the seams, van. Steve’s gaze followed yours, also noticing the van below. A van he was more than familiar with at this point. 
You bent over, pulling on your shoes as quickly as you could before rushing out of your room and down the stairs. Steve jumped into action then, doing the same from within his own house. He burst out the front door just in time to see you grabbing for the handle of the van’s passenger side door. Steve peered through the windshield getting a glance of the unruly curls that rested on Eddie Munson’s head. You hopped into the van and Eddie looked up, seeing Steve cut through his yard and head towards the van. You fastened your seatbelt and looked up, also catching sight of the boy rapidly approaching you.
“Eddie, please drive. Like right now,” you turned to the boy next to you. Your voice came out shaky and desperate. Definitely not the commanding tone you’d hoped for.
“Sorry, princess. Gotta see what the hair is so adamantly chasing us for,” Eddie shrugged and you groaned, throwing your head back. Unfortunately that only made Eddie laugh at you.
“If you leave right now, I’ll do anything you ask for the rest of the night,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together to beg.
“As tempting as that sounds, it’s a bit too late,” Eddie points to the window behind you. You turn, seeing Steve standing next to your window, hand raised in a wave. Eddie leaned over, arm reaching across your lap to crank the window down, because he knew damn well that you wouldn’t do it. Not when Steve was standing on the other side at least.
“You’re like a goddamn jumpscare. I hope you know that Harrington,” you spoke, folding your arms over your chest as Eddie retreated back to his side of the van. He could identify the hint of jealousy on Steve’s face all too well. It was the same look Steve wore anytime a guy got too close to you or made you smile a bit wider than normal. Eddie was well aware of Steve’s complicated feelings for you, even though Steve sure as hell wasn’t.
“Whatcha up to? I thought you were staying home tonight?” Steve asked Eddie, resting his hands against the van’s door. He was close to you, too close. You leaned back in your seat, putting more space between the two of you.
“Well, now I’m not,” Eddie shot Steve a cheeky smile and Steve just blinked in response. “Ok fine,” Eddie gave in, unraveling under Steve’s stare. He hated lying to Steve, especially now that they’d gotten closer. “We’re going to see some band play at The Hideout. We’ve had these plans for weeks. I lied about staying home,” Eddie rushed out and your mouth dropped in shock.
“One look into Harrington’s sparkly eyes and you're spilling your guts? Pathetic,” you groaned from your seat. Eddie rolled his eyes, focusing them back onto Steve.
“You think my eyes are sparkly?” Steve quipped, a smirk growing on his lips. You heard Eddie laugh beside you and you couldn’t help the scowl that formed on your face.
“Get over yourself, Steve,” you moved your hand over the window crank, threatening to roll up the window, but Steve stopped you.
“Wait! I wanna come with,” he spoke quickly, eyes darting back and forth between you and Eddie. You couldn’t help the laugh that formed in your throat. “What’s so funny?” Steve glared at you then.
“Well, for one, you hate metal music,” you began and Steve scoffed.
“So do you,” Steve tried to retaliate, but the smirk on your lips told him he was fighting a losing battle.
“Sure, I’m not the biggest metal fan, but I like it enough and I love the energy of the crowd. Plus Eddie and I have been doing this for years. It doesn’t even matter, you’re not coming with us so you might as well give up now,” you spoke, lifting your hand in a sarcastic wave goodbye.
“Good thing it’s not up to you then. It’s Eddie’s van. He gets to decide,” your head snapped in Eddie’s direction then. You glared at him and focused as hard as you could. When you were younger, you and Eddie were convinced that you’d be able to communicate with each other telepathically if you tried hard enough. It never worked of course, but it never hurt to try. Eddie understood you better than anyone. He became your number-one confidant since the day you met. Surely he could pick up on your brain waves begging him to bar Steve from your plans.
Eddie headed towards the band room at Hawkins Middle with his guitar case swinging in his hand. He was early, intending to warm up on his own before the rest of Corroded Coffin got there for band practice. Eddie flicked on the lights, expecting the room to be empty. But it wasn’t. You were there, in the corner of the room, tucked between some music stands. You’d been curled into a ball and looked up when the fluorescent lights came on, illuminating your hidden figure. There were tears streaked across your face after a particularly brutal day of taunts from Tommy and Steve. Eddie set his guitar down and moved towards you slowly.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a quiet voice, hesitantly approaching. You remained silent, rising from your spot on the ground and wiping away your tears with your sweater sleeve. “I’m Eddie,” he spoke again, extending his hand for you to shake when he got close enough. You told him your name but didn’t meet his hand with yours, not yet.
“But everyone calls me Baby,” your voice was hoarse from crying but Eddie heard you loud and clear. He was an eighth grader but even he’d heard about the poor sixth grader that the popular kids had been calling Baby. It had moved beyond just them though. All of your classmates, teachers, and neighbors had adopted the name for you. 
“Well, I won’t call you that, not if you’re not comfortable with it,” Eddie reassured you. He had been victimized plenty by the popular kids. He understood what it felt like, which is why he was shocked when you shook your head. His hand fell back to his side.
“No, it’s ok. I’ve been telling people to call me Baby to help reclaim it, I guess. It took Marissa the librarian forever but she’s finally gotten used to it. My parents still slip up, but that’s to be expected,” you shrugged. What you didn’t tell Eddie was that it still hurt when the name spilled from Steve’s lips. You weren’t sure why it did. But the more you were called Baby by everyone else, the more desensitized you hoped to become to it.
“Reclaim the name?” Eddie asked, eyebrows furrowed. You nodded, suddenly unsure what the boy in front of you thought. “That’s pretty metal,” a smile stretched his lips and his hand shot back up between you, beckoning for yours to join it. “It’s nice to meet you, Baby.”
“You too, Eddie,” you mirrored his smile, finally placing your small hand in his. Eddie’s calloused fingers enclosed around the back of your palm and two became one. You were inseparable. Inseparable in everything except for the reoccurring nightmare scenario that kept popping up in your life. You’d been dragged in early on, being one of the last people to see Barb before she went missing. You’d caught a glimpse of her through your window, sitting on the diving board above Steve’s pool, when suddenly she was gone. You joined Jonathan and Nancy in their quest to find her and kill the thing that took her. It sucked to keep Eddie out of that part of your life, but it was for his own good. Or at least it was until this past spring when Chrissy Cunningham became Vecna’s first victim right before the poor boy’s eyes. Then you told him everything. Your two worlds fully merged, and you and Eddie became totally and fully inseparable.
Your glare bore into Eddie’s and you thought you had gotten through to him. You were wrong.
“Alright Harrington, hop in. Quickly though, I don’t want to miss the opening act,” Eddie conceded, turning to face his gaze towards the road ahead. He could feel you burning holes into him with your eyes. You rolled the window up as Steve opened the van's back door. 
“We’re so working on the telepathy thing again. Evidently, you’re in desperate need of a refresher,” you grumbled and Eddie chuckled at how mad you were at the addition of Steve to your plans. Steve closed the van door, lounging in one of the bean bags Eddie kept in the back. After what felt like the longest ride of being tossed around the back of Eddie’s van, Steve was never more thankful to see The Hideout come into view. The three of you filed out of the van as the sound of metal music filtered through the bar’s closed doors. Much to Eddie’s dismay the opener had already started their set. It smelled like cheap beer and cigarette smoke, causing Steve to wrinkle his nose.
“Go get us some drinks from the bar. Baby and I will get us a spot up near the front,” Eddie handed Steve a few dollar bills, enough to cover both your drink and his own. You and Steve might hate each other, but you’d been around each other in enough alcohol-fueled group settings to know each other’s drink orders. Steve beelined towards the bar, yelling over the music to order your Dirty Shirley with extra cherries, Eddie’s Rum and Coke, and his own Long Island iced tea.
He spotted you and Eddie pushing through the crowd. You were in front of Eddie, his forearm thrown across the front of your shoulders to keep you close. The two of you stopped not far from the stage. You leaned up to say something in Eddie’s ear, your back flush with his chest, and Steve felt a rush of jealousy run through him. Eddie had told him countless times that the two of you were just friends. That the kisses he’d once shared with you while high were just meaningless, drug-fueled, pecks on the lips. That was a lie of course, but Eddie definitely wasn’t going to tell Steve about the way you moaned against his lips until the two of you sobered up enough to feel embarrassed and swore to never speak of it again. Sometimes Steve needed to be lied to about certain things, mainly so Eddie wasn’t on the receiving end of Steve’s right hook.
The bartender placed the drinks in front of Steve in exchange for the wad of cash slapped on the counter. Steve grabbed all three glasses and began his trek through the tightly packed crowd. He’d gotten really good at holding a bunch of stuff in his hands at once during his brief stint at Scoops. Steve made it up to you and Eddie, passing the drinks to each of you. The three of you watched the opening band’s set, dancing as much as you could with drinks in your hands and a packed crowd.
By the time the opener’s set was over you had sipped enough of your drink to expose one of the cherries in your glass. Steve couldn’t help the way his mouth gaped as he watched you fish the cherry out with your finger, popping the morsel in your mouth and pulling it from the stem with your teeth. Eddie eyed the boy next to him, amused not only by Steve’s aroused reaction to such a simple thing but also by your complete obliviousness to said reaction. Despite the lack of music coming from the stage as you waited for the headlining band to come on, Eddie still had to shout over the buzz of the crowd.
“Show Stevie the thing,” Eddie gestured towards the cherry stem between your fingers. You shook your head in protest, but Eddie gave you his best puppy dog eyes and you were instantly beat. You rolled your eyes, placed the cherry stem on your tongue, and closed your lips. Eddie brought his arm up, glancing back and forth between you and his watch. Steve was baffled by the coordinated performance that the two of you were putting on in front of him. After a few seconds, your mouth popped back open. You plucked the cherry stem from between your teeth and held it up for Steve to see.
“Seven seconds! That might be your personal best,” Eddie exclaimed while Steve looked closely at the stem. It was tied in a knot. He took it from between your fingers and was about to ask how you did it when the band came on stage. Steve’s hand trailed down to his side, tucking the tied cherry stem into his pocket. He wasn’t sure why, but throwing it away felt wrong for some reason.
The band was really good, especially the lead singer. He was only a few years older than you and he had gorgeous, blonde hair that flowed down to his shoulders. Steve had scoffed when the singer winked at you during their set, but you couldn’t hear the sound over the music. The three of you had a surprisingly good time together, although it's pretty hard to fight with such loud music blaring throughout the room. Eddie and Steve were tasked with finding a table after the band left the stage and you got stuck with grabbing everyone new drinks. 
“That was actually really fun. How often do you guys do this?” Steve asked, his pants getting stuck to cheap faux leather as he slid into a booth opposite Eddie. 
“Once every month or so. It depends on which bands are playing,” Steve was listening to Eddie or at least he was at first. His eyes had been scanning the bar, trying to find you. When he finally did, his expression hardened. You leaned with your elbow against the bar, waiting for the bartender to come back with the drinks, but you weren’t alone. The lead singer of the headlining band was beside you. He was smiling at you, and even worse for Steve, you were smiling back. Eddie noticed the change in Steve’s demeanor, the jealousy that now filled the hazel of his eyes. He tracked Steve’s gaze across the crowded bar, landing on you. 
Eddie was impressed. He’d seen you bag your fair share of hot guys after a show at The Hideout, but never had you managed to get with the lead singer of the headlining band. Steve, on the other hand, was not impressed. He was livid. It didn’t help that the lead singer had just placed his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he leaned in close to whisper something in your ear. Steve quickly slid out of the booth, stomping his way through the crowd of people, heading towards you. Eddie winced, knowing he should chase after the boy, but slightly curious to see what would happen if he didn’t. Steve pushed through the bodies surrounding him, stopping just in front of where you stood against the bar.
“What's taking you so long with the drinks?” He called out and your head shot up at the sound of his voice. The smile that had grown on your lips quickly faded at the sight of Steve. The singer, Corey, looked up from where he had just started to kiss your neck. He didn’t move his hands from your hips despite Steve’s pointed glances. 
“Hey man, you’re kind of interrupting something right now. If you want a drink then ask the bartender or whatever,” Corey moved to face you again, but Steve wasn’t done.
“Hey man,” Steve mocked Corey’s words. “You need to take your hands off of her right now,” your brow furrowed in anger while Corey filled with confusion.
“Sorry dude, didn’t realize she was your girl,” Corey assumed based on Steve’s comment and began to move his hands, but you stopped him.
“I’m not, I swear. I barely even know that guy,” Steve scoffed at that and you shot him a glare. Corey’s eyes flitted back and forth between you and Steve. He looked more confused than ever, almost painfully so. 
“I’m way too high for this. You have her, man. It's not worth the fight,” Corey held up his hands in defense. Eddie had just worked his way through the sea of people in time to see Corey back away from you, scan the crowd, and head towards some pretty redhead across the room. Steve looked triumphant as he turned his gaze back to you. Eddie thought you looked like you were about to go ballistic. He’d never seen you that mad before in his entire life. You looked even angrier now than you had when Eddie purposefully put gum in your hair and it got stuck so badly that you had to give yourself bangs to get rid of it. Eddie was about two seconds from sprinting out of the building to save himself from being a witness to what was sure to be Steve’s murder when the bartender, Dave, called out from behind you.
“Here’s that Long Island for you, Baby,” you spun around, revealing the Rum and Coke and Dirty Shirley that sat on the counter behind you. You thanked Dave, giving him a good tip, before turning back to Steve. Because even in your fury, you could still be nice to the waitstaff. You picked up the Long Island, marched towards Steve, and slammed the drink directly into his chest. 
“Since you wanted it so fucking bad,” you pushed past him, not caring about the way the liquid sloshed over the lip of the glass, coating your hand and Steve’s shirt. You moved towards the exit, slamming the door open into the moonlit darkness outside. Steve took a second to process what just happened. He placed the remainder of his drink back on the counter before following in your path. Eddie groaned, grabbing his now abandoned drink from the bar and downing it. He grabbed your drink from beside his, knowing you’d need it when this was over, and followed Steve. You had made it to Eddie’s van and tugged on the door handle, cursing the long-haired boy for actually locking it for once.
“What the hell was that?” Steve called out from across the parking lot with his arms held wide. He was stalking towards you at a furious pace. You were so pissed that you didn’t even notice your feet dragging you forward to meet him in the middle.
“Where the fuck do you get off?” you asked in response instead of answering his question. Steve stopped when the tips of his shoes touched yours, scrunched faces mere inches from each other. “First you invite yourself along to Eddie and I’s thing and then you ruin my chances with the very hot lead singer of the band. You did that for what, huh? Shits and giggles? I don’t give a shit who you are Harrington, that’s too fucking far,” you yelled, rage boiling beneath your hot skin. 
“He wasn’t that hot,” Steve scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes widened. Eddie, who had just made it out to the parking lot, was surprised there wasn’t steam shooting out of your ears at this point.
“Is that the only thing you fucking heard from what I just said?” you brought your hands to your forehead in exasperation. “You’re such an asshole! I thought it would end when we graduated. Like you’d grow up a bit after graduation day. Hell, Robin said you’d matured, changed, and left the King Steve shtick behind. Eddie is one of your best friends now, the boy you taunted for years. So what is it about me, huh? Why are you suddenly too golden-hearted to bully everyone else but you never stopped fucking with me?” you had gotten close to Steve, not that you noticed through your tunneled vision of anger. Your heavy breaths fanned across Steve’s lips as you awaited his response.
“I-” Steve opened his mouth to respond and then quickly shut it. He didn’t know. Well maybe he did know, somewhere deep down, but it wasn’t something he could say to you now. Not in The Hideout’s parking lot where a crowd had started growing around you. Steve stepped back, creating the space between you that you desperately lacked at the moment.
“That’s what I thought,” you stepped back too, turning to walk towards Eddie. You quickly stopped, facing Steve once more. “Do me a favor, find some other girl to lurk around for a while. It's bad enough that you live next door. I really don’t need you following me wherever I go like some fucking creep,” you spun on your heels again, grabbing the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand and throwing it back like it was fruit juice. 
Eddie unlocked the van and you slid inside, slamming the door behind you. Eddie’s eyes met Steve’s with a grimace. Eddie looked at you in the van and then back to Steve. Steve got the message; Eddie couldn’t take you both home together. Maybe Steve was the one with telepathy instead. Eddie’s remorseful eyes searched Steve from across the lot. Steve conceded, gesturing for Eddie to take you. He was the one that fucked up anyway. If anything he deserved to be the one that had to call a cab. Eddie shot Steve a tight-lipped smile before hopping into his van and driving off. Steve watched the van’s taillights as Eddie rolled through a stop sign, speeding off into the night.
The light in your room was off when the cab finally dropped Steve off at home. He wasn’t surprised, expecting that you’d be at Eddie's trailer, erasing the night from your thoughts with a shared joint. Steve trudged up the stairs, opening and closing his door softly behind him so he didn’t wake his parents. They’d be gone for another business trip in the morning, leaving one less thing for him to worry about tomorrow. Steve’s window was still open from earlier, allowing the cool night air to seep in. He laid back on his bed, thoughts racing in the silence. And that’s when he heard it. A soft sob, then a sniffle. A deep breath, then another sob.
Steve sat up, his gaze aimed in the direction of the sound. His eyes landed on you, sitting on the floor of your darkened room with your back against your bed. Your window was cracked open, the way you normally kept it at night, allowing the birds to wake you with their songs in the morning. Steve stood, moving towards the window. You couldn’t see him from this angle, not that you would have been able to regardless with the tears clouding your vision. Steve frowned. An ache in his chest, the same one he’d felt whenever he heard you cry, flourished within him. He wanted to comfort you. To wrap an arm around you and let cry into his chest. To tell you it would be okay and ask who’s ass he needed to kick. But he couldn’t. You weren’t friends. You hated him. And it’s not like he could kick his own ass. 
He didn’t realize, didn’t even feel it, but a tear slipped down his cheek, matching the flood that crowded yours. Steve lifted his hands to rest on the window, leaning against it as his brows furrowed over the broken look on your face. He pushed down, shutting the window softly, locking it, and closing the curtains. He couldn’t listen to you cry anymore. He remembered what you said, and he didn’t want to linger. The tear rolled off Steve’s chin, drowning a little unsuspecting green soldier on the window sill below. Steve moved away from the window and laid back on his bed. He felt around his pants pocket and fished out the knotted cherry stem. Steve’s eyes roamed over it for too long before he set it aside on his nightstand and closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep that night, no matter how hard tried. In the quiet dark of his room, Steve swore he could still hear your muffled cries.    
Drunk under a street light
Black and white flickered from the TV screen, illuminating the dark room that you lounged in. You were lazing on the couch, mindlessly picking at the bowl of popcorn in your lap. The movie playing across the room did nothing to pull your unfocused stare from the coffee table in front of you. It wasn’t until you received a light kick to the thigh that you could finally shifted your eyes away.
“Okay, ouch,” you glared at Robin who was lying across the couch beside you, feet practically draped across your lap. She sat up, digging her hand into the bowl of popcorn. Her perfume scent lingered in the air around you even after she pulled back. It was sweet and light like she had just finished baking a batch of sugar cookies.
“You’ve been begging me to watch Casablanca with you for months and you’re not even paying attention to it now that I actually am,” she lifted her hand towards the screen before bringing her handful of popcorn to her lips. It's true. You had been dying to get someone to watch Casablanca with you for ages. Eddie watched it once and then refused to do it again after he ended up crying at the ending. Rick Blaine’s selfless act of giving up his one true love to give her a better life brought tears to the cold-hearted boy’s eyes. He made you promise not to tell anyone, especially Dustin. 
“Sorry Rob, I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” you apologized, trying your best to pay attention to the movie again. You’d been zoned out for the entire first half of the movie, not that it mattered. You knew exactly what was happening on screen, given that you’d seen the movie a million times. It got to a point where Steve started keeping a copy under the counter at Family Video so there was always one available when you came in.
“Are you thinking about Steve?” Robin asked, her voice overpowering Ingrid Bergman’s as Ilsa confessed why she left Rick alone in Paris. Your head snapped towards the girl beside you and you could see the faint smirk growing on her lips.
“Why would I be thinking about Steve?” you answered her question with your own. The smirk fell from her lips then and she rolled her eyes. Robin sat up, pressing pause on the remote.
“Because he was totally jealous and caused some huge blowout fight between the two of you. And when I say huge I mean huge. It’s been over a week and you still won’t even acknowledge that he exists,” Robin explained, turning to face you better. You sighed and faced her too. You tried to avoid talking about Steve with Robin. Ever since they became friends it seemed too weird to talk shit about him in front of her.
“First of all, Steve definitely wasn’t jealous. He’s just a menace that loves to torment me,” Robin snorted a laugh but didn’t interrupt, allowing you to continue. “Second, Steve and I aren’t friends so me not talking to him for a week really isn’t that big of a deal,” Robin shrugged at that, seeing your point. “And third, how the hell do you know about all of this?” a guilty look spread across Robin’s face and you quickly realized the answer to your question. “Eddie’s got a big mouth,” Robin nodded in agreement at your words. 
“I would’ve figured it out regardless. Steve’s been moping around for days. He’s really beating himself up over the whole thing,” you chuckled and Robin shot you a confused glare.
“What? I find it hard to believe that Steve Harrington even remotely cares about anything that has to do with me. Well unless it has to do with making my life a living hell,” you leaned back again, digging your hand into the popcorn bowl once more. Robin just stared at you, obviously baffled by something. 
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe somewhere in Steve’s caveman brain all this ‘torment’ is actually his way of expressing that he likes you?” Robin asked and repositioned the blanket that covered her lap. You stopped mid-chew, considering Robin’s words. You swallowed hard, sitting up and placing the popcorn bowl down on the couch between you.
“So what, Steve pulls my pigtails on the playground and it’s all okay just because he likes me? That’s such a toxic ideology, Rob. Not only that, but the suggestion that Steve actually likes me is insane. I mean have you heard the worm story?” you felt defensive, as if you were being attacked even though you weren't. You couldn’t understand why your heart wouldn’t stop racing at the thought of Steve liking you.
“Of course, I’ve heard the goddamn worm story,” Robin threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over the popcorn in the process. “And I didn’t say that it was a healthy way of expressing his feelings. It just might be the only way he knows how. It’s not like his parents are great role models in teaching him about love and stuff,” a quiet fell over the room while your head raced at Robin’s words. You’d been so wrapped up in your feud with Steve that you hadn’t taken the time to consider his life outside of you. 
You knew Steve’s parents were pretty absent based on the lack of cars in the driveway. And it was well known across town that Mr. Harrington was an asshole, no need to grow up next door to figure that out. Steve adored his dad when he was younger, and talked about how he wanted to be just like him. But you had heard the fights that seeped through the open windows in the years that followed. The disappointment that filled Mr. Harrington’s face when he entered Steve’s bedroom and saw the movie posters lining the walls. You wondered then what Steve’s parents thought of his decision to forgo college. Whether they argued with his choice, fought with him to take a chance to change his future, or if they just accepted it, not expecting much else from their disappointing son.
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Robin studied your face as you spoke. You looked lost, like you were questioning your past with Steve. After a moment the hint of a smile graced your lips and Robin furrowed her brow. “Still doesn’t mean he likes me,” you quirked as Robin sat up, grabbing another handful of popcorn. 
“Oh whatever,” she launched her fistful of popcorn at you, hitting your face with the popped kernels before they fell to your lap. You retaliated, throwing popcorn back at her. The popcorn fight quickly ended when Robin picked up the bowl, dumping the rest of its contents over your head. The two of you fell into a fit of laughter while you tried, and failed, to pick the popcorn kernels from your hair. Eventually, you gave up, resting your head on Robin’s shoulder, the crunch of the popcorn sounding off as you did. Her shoulder was bony, uncomfortably stabbing your cheek with each delicate press against it, but you didn’t mind. Neither of you was very touchy-feely with each other, though you were never sure why, so it was nice to have a rare moment of intimacy. It granted you a deeper understanding of one another and a peak into the mysterious ways that each of your brains worked.
“Go to a party with me tonight?” Robin asked softly, not quite ready to leave the comfortable quiet just yet. You kept your head still on her shoulder and closed your eyes, inhaling sharply.
“Since when do you actively attend parties?” you questioned and Robin’s shoulder shook beneath you as she let out a gentle laugh. It was a comforting sound, like waves at the beach or rain on the pavement. That’s what Robin was to you. A comfort. Sure, Eddie was your best friend and you’d known him longer, but Robin understood you in a way that he didn’t. She controlled your chaos and balanced it with ease and truth. Robin matched your energy, knew what was best for you, and made you feel heard.
“Since Vickie asked me to go,” Robin winced out the words, anticipating your shift away from her side. Just as Robin thought, you lifted your head, turning to face her.
“So you’re not inviting me to go to a party, you’re inviting me to Third Wheel all night?” you raised your brow, eyes pouring into the girl beside you. Robin winced, shrinking into her spot on the couch. “Alright, I’ll go. Got nothing better to do anyway,” Robin cheered triumphantly at your concession, standing to go to your room and start getting ready together. You stopped her, gesturing to the popcorn that littered the couch and floor. She groaned, reluctantly helping you clean up the mess she made.
You’d walked to the party, arriving after everything was already in full swing. The sticky air reeked of weed and cheap booze as you pushed your way through the front door. It was sweltering inside the house. Sweaty bodies pressed themselves closely together on the dance floor, sipping on whatever deadly concoction resided in the punch bowl. Robin made a beeline for Vickie as soon as she walked through the door. There were familiar faces, people you knew from high school and whatnot, but no one you particularly fancied talking to. That is until you saw a mop of brown curls approaching with a black lunch box in his hands.
“I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” you called out over the boombox that was blaring music throughout the room. Eddie wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to walk along with him. He guided you to the kitchen, stopping in front of a countertop littered with booze. You weighed your drink options, eventually pouring some vodka and Sprite into a solo cup, disappointed at the lack of cherry grenadine. You held up a bottle of rum pointed in Eddie’s direction, but he shook his head.
“Strictly business tonight sweetheart,” Eddie patted the lunchbox in his hands. You nodded in understanding, bringing your cup to your lips. “Where’s Buckley?” he asked, suddenly noticing the missing girl that he was sure dragged you here. You didn’t even have to speak, just pointing your finger to where Robin danced with Vickie across the room. Her hair was already a mess and her cheeks were flushed bright pink. You were about to say something else, keep your conversation with Eddie going, when he received a tap on his shoulder. It was some jock looking to make a deal. Eddie gave your hand a quick squeeze in place of goodbye and led the guy to the back of the house.
So there you were, standing alone in a crowded kitchen, regretting your decision to come in the first place. If only Nancy or Jonathan were there to keep you company, too bad they were both off at their respective colleges. Hell, you might even take Steve’s companionship at this point, because the longer you leaned against this countertop, the more boxed in you felt. What you didn’t know was that Steve was there. He thought it would be a good way to get his mind off your fight, but as he stood in the corner of this too-hot house, sipping a lukewarm beer, and listening to his old basketball teammate drone on and on about how they should’ve won the championship game their senior year, Steve realized he was wrong.
It especially didn’t help when his eyes scanned the room and somehow landed on you. You were alone, searching the room, presumably for a familiar face, when he spotted you. Luckily for Steve, you remained oblivious to his watchful gaze, giving him some time to study you since he felt like he hadn’t been able to in ages. He considered going over to you, to keep you company, but before he could even take a step, someone else approached you first. Your face dropped to a scowl at the sight of the freckled boy who now stood in front of you.
“What’s wrong Baby? Not happy to see me?” Tommy asked, a devilish grin hiding his lips. Steve was rooted to the spot, unable to move. He wanted to march over to you, drag you away from the douchebag before you, but he couldn’t will his legs to trudge across the congested room. He was never good at standing up for you, especially not to Tommy. 
“Is anyone ever happy to see you?” you asked, crossing your arms and keeping a close grip on your cup. Tommy looked you up and down, hungry eyes boring into your skin. Suddenly you wished you brought a sweater to cover your bare shoulders. Steve still watched you from afar, his stomach turning at the desire that lingered in Tommy’s expression.
“There are plenty of girls around here that love when I show up,” Tommy grinned, leaning in closer. He reminded you of a shark with his teeth bared, waiting for a lowly seal to stumble into his pathway. “I could show you why if you come upstairs with me,” his lips came dangerously close to your ear, muffling the music that rattled the room. 
“I’ll pass,” you grimaced at his offer. Tommy’s grin faltered and you brought your cup to your lips with a shrug, trying not to look too smug at your denial of his advances. That must have been what set Tommy over the edge. He reached up, slapping the cup from your hand, ignoring the liquid that splashed over you both. His face leaned in close as his arms caged you against the counter. 
“Fuck you,” he spat, his face close to yours. “You’re just some weirdo bitch anyway,” you were scared at that point, terrified even, but you remained calm. Showing your fear would be the worst thing to do. Steve’s heart raced in his chest as he watched Tommy corner you. He took a step forward, moving in your direction.
“A weirdo bitch that won’t fuck you,” you fired back at Tommy and his face turned red with fury. Maybe poking the bear wasn’t a good idea. Suddenly someone knocked Tommy to the side, freeing you from him. You looked up, seeing a flash of red hair and someone in a striped shirt. Vickie and Robin. 
“Woah man, we were spinning around and kinda lost control. Didn’t even see you there,” Robin leaned down to where Tommy now sat on the floor. She shot you a wink when he wasn’t looking. Vickie offered him a hand, but he brushed her off, standing on his own. He looked around, catching the glances of some of the partygoers, and stomped off, too embarrassed to continue trying to pursue you. Steve had made it about halfway through the crowded living room when Robin and Vickie took down Tommy in some sort of weird spin attack. He stood there now, watching as they checked over you. “You alright?” Robin asked you while Vickie inspected you for any bruises or blemishes from Tommy.
“Yeah, I’m all good. Think I’m just gonna go actually,” you looked down at your shirt, taking inventory of how damp it was from your spilled drink. 
“We’ll go with you,” Vickie spoke up, taking hold of your arm as if she would guide you out. You shook your head, sliding her hand down to yours and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. 
“No, you guys stay and have fun. I’m gonna try and hitch a ride. I’ve gotta know someone around here that’s planning on leaving soon,” you had no intentions of actually getting a ride from someone. But you knew Robin would never let you go if she knew you were going to walk home alone and you just needed to get out of there. You would ask Eddie, but you knew he needed the money he’d make from selling tonight so you didn’t want to bother him. 
“Okay,” Robin nodded, granting you permission to leave. You gave her and Vickie a two-finger salute and made your way to the door. “No rides home from anyone on the basketball team. Past, present, or future. I swear all of those guys are creeps,” Robin called after you, turning a few heads as she did. You chuckled, continuing on to the door.
Steve still stood in the living room, watching the three of you closely. His eyes followed you as you trekked through the crowd to the door. Once you finally made it outside, his gaze shifted back to Robin only to find that she was already looking at him. She motioned with her head to the door, encouraging him to follow after you. So he did. Steve threw away his half-drunk beer and burst through the door. You were already halfway down the block when he got in his car and pulled up next to you. 
It was cold outside, especially for early September, a chill lacing the breeze with each gust. It definitely didn’t help that your shirt was still soaked through. You saw the headlights of a car approaching behind you, brushing it off as you shivered and pulled your arms close. It took you a moment to realize that the car hadn’t passed you yet. You turned your head, suddenly facing a maroon BMW with its windows rolled down. A groan escaped your lips, but you still bent down to peer through the window. Steve’s car came to a stop, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of your exasperated face.
“You stalking me now, Harrington?” Steve let out a chuckle and a gust of wind picked up, making you shiver again. 
“You wish. Come on, get in and I’ll drive us home,” he studied your face, searching for a sign that you’d agree. He couldn’t find one, your body unmoving from your spot on the sidewalk. 
“I’m perfectly capable of walking. Plus Robin said no rides from anyone on the basketball team,” you shot him a sly smirk and stood up straight, continuing your walk through the neighborhood. You’d expected Steve to drive off then, leaving you to walk in peace. But he didn’t, his car followed alongside you. “What are you doing?” you asked, stopping again to see Steve through the passenger window.
“If you won’t let me drive you home, then I’ll just drive next to you,” Steve shrugged, looking up at you.
“What if I cut through someone’s backyard?” you asked and Steve shrugged again, a smirk dancing on his lips.
“Then some people are gonna be really pissed to see tire tracks on their lawn,” he replied and you almost wanted to laugh at his persistence, entertained by Steve’s unwillingness to let you be alone. His smile faltered then. “You and I both know the kind of shit that lurks around Hawkins at night,” any amusement from before had slipped away. None of you mentioned the Upside Down much now, not after finally defeating Vecna. It was final, the battle that ended the war, destroying the Upside Down for good. You couldn’t help the lingering fear that you’d missed something, that one day it would all return. And here, on the sidewalk after some lame party, you realized that Steve shared that fear too. 
“Ok,” you said simply, shocking Steve as you pulled on the passenger door handle and slid into the seat next to him. He waited until you buckled up before rolling up the windows and driving off. It was quiet in the car, the lingering tension of all the unspoken words swirling in the air. Steve heard the sound of your teeth chattering and your hands brushing the goosebumps on your arms. He quickly reached into the back, grabbed an old sweatshirt that sat there, and handed it to you. Normally you would’ve rejected it, your pride too inflated to accept help from Steve in any form. But it was cold, your shirt was wet, and your conversation from earlier with Robin still lingered in the forefront of your mind. 
Steve didn’t expect you to take his sweatshirt so easily, replacing his hand on the wheel when he felt the weight of it lift from his palm. You pulled his sweatshirt on, reveling in the warmth it provided. It smelled like hairspray and lavender, a hint of boy mixed with the two. It smelled like Steve. Silence settled over the two of you again and Steve couldn’t stand it anymore.
“I’m sorry,” the words burst from within him, head turning to look at you for a moment. You looked calm and objective like Steve hadn’t even spoken in the first place. “The whole thing at The Hideout was so stupid. I don’t even know why I did that,” you looked at him then, expression still neutral. “I guess I just feel like I need to protect you and I took it too far,” your brow scrunched at that, finally giving Steve an insight into your thoughts.
“Protect me? You and Tommy tormented me for years,” anger rose in your throat. You hadn’t meant to get mad, still considering what Robin said, but Steve’s twisted claim brought it out of you in the way that only he could.
“I know, I know. And I’m sorry about that too. I just- I just wanted to fit in, to be cool. But I realize now that none of that shit ever mattered. I mean, how important was popularity when the one person that I actually cared about couldn’t stand me?” Steve spoke and the tension in your face dropped. The one person Steve cared about? Was he talking about you? You took a deep breath, thinking over your words when the car came to a stop in front of your driveway.
“Steve,” you spoke softly, almost a whisper, like the breeze rattling through the trees. “I can’t just forget about all of it because you’ve abruptly changed. I can’t just decide to be your friend all of a sudden. You hurt me, for a long time. Hell, you still do,” Steve winced, wanting to turn back time to when you were five, when nothing bad had happened to you yet and things were much simpler. 
“I know,” Steve’s head sunk, his chest aching with each passing second.
“I just,” you stopped, jumbled thoughts bouncing around your head. “I just think it’s easier when we keep ourselves apart. It doesn’t hurt as much that way,” the streetlights above reflected the swelling tears in your eyes as they threatened to spill. You hadn’t meant to cry, and you surely didn’t want to. Steve understood your sentiments. Being around you only reminded him of how it could’ve been if he hadn’t tried so hard to fit in. If he hadn’t screwed it all up.
“But maybe we could try. Try to be friends,” the words surprised Steve as they left his lips. They came out far bolder than he felt capable of being at the moment. “Group settings, public places. Baby steps, you know?” Steve tried to stop the hope building in his chest, too worried about the damage it would do if you said no. But you didn’t. 
“Maybe,” you said in a whisper, a tear finally tracking down your cheek. A soft smile slipped over Steve’s lips, the same one he wore around you as a kid. The same smile you saw before he traipsed over the hill, leaving you on the sidewalk with the worms. Your lips twitched upwards for a second before you pulled the door handle and exited the car. 
The feeling of hope now took full form, blossoming in Steve’s chest, filling every crack and crevice between his ribs. He watched you walk up to your front door, still wearing his sweatshirt, slipping inside your house with a small wave in Steve’s direction. Steve put the car back in gear, pulling into his driveway next door. He shut the car off and leaned back in his seat, still unable to wipe the smile from his face. Maybe. He could work with maybe.
You drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding
Eddie’s van was a mess. Your legs brushed against fast food wrappers while cigarette butts covered the floor, crunching under your sneakers. It smelled like weed and sweat with a hint of the black ice air freshener that you forced him to buy a while ago. It was early afternoon, the sun still high in the sky as Eddie made a right turn out of your neighborhood.
“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, shifting to look at Eddie. He had his hair pulled up into a messy bun that you insisted on doing for him. It was a rare and rather unwelcome hairstyle for the metalhead, but it was well warranted for the occasion. 
“Because Buckley wants to learn how to play basketball and Harrington asked for my help,” Eddie shrugged, approaching a stop sign and making a left. You rolled your eyes, letting out a huff of air from your chest.
“But you hate basketball,” you groaned, wondering why Robin would even want to learn how to play in the first place. 
“Yes, but they’re my friends and they asked for my help, so my help they shall receive,” normally you would have laughed at Eddie’s goofiness, but the thought of being around Steve loomed over your head. You still hadn’t seen each other since the party, just glimpses through bedroom windows. It was hard to say where either of you stood with each other. Becoming friends seemed like an impossible feat on your part, too stuck in the past to care about the potential future.
“Okay, so why am I included in this? Steve didn’t ask for my help,” you pulled your feet from the trash-covered floor, finally sick enough of how the garbage touched your ankles. Your feet rested on the seat and you hugged your knees close to your chest. Your head sat atop them, watching Eddie closely with narrow eyes, trying to figure out if this was some scheme to get you near Steve.
“Each team needs two players, Baby. Kind of hard to play a two v. two with only three people,” you let out another groan and Eddie smirked in response, knowing you couldn’t refute him anymore. He made a sharp right turn, pulling up to the outdoor basketball courts that sat behind the high school. Eddie turned off the engine and tapped your knee. It was his way of telling you to get out of the car and lock your door behind you. The two of you began your walk over and could just barely make out three figures through the holes in the chain link fence that surrounded the basketball courts.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear athletic shorts before. I might pass out at the sight of your legs,” you said to Eddie as the two of you walked through the gate, entering the basketball court. You barely had time to accentuate your comment with a smirk before Eddie leaned in close.
“Reel it in, Baby. Best not to flirt with me in front of Harrington. Wouldn’t want to risk him getting jealous again,” your face grew hot at Eddie’s comment, the thought of a jealous Steve stirring something deep in the pit of your stomach, something like desire. Eddie donned a stupid smile as you approached Robin, Steve, and Lucas in the middle of the court.
“What’s up with you?” Steve asked, noticing your flustered appearance. Your eyes darted back over to Eddie, who continued to wear the same shit-eating grin as before.
“Nothing, just ready to play some basketball,” you deflected and Steve nodded, covering the basic rules of the game. Lucas was acting as the referee for the match, making it feel much more intense than it should have. That’s probably why you took it so seriously, covering Robin as if your life depended on it. Steve won the tip-off, sending the ball back to Robin. She caught it and began to dribble towards the basket. She looked like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time as she made her way up the court, nearly smacking the ball away from herself in the process. You used it to your advantage, managing to grab the ball from her, dribbling up the opposite side of the court, and scoring a basket from the three-point line. Steve retaliated after that, shooting his own shot and tying the score. It continued like that for a bit, Eddie and Robin eventually gave up on trying to cover the both of you, which was how you ended up in front of Steve, desperately attempting to block his shot.
“Worried you’re gonna miss?” you taunted as Steve dribbled in front of you, your back to the basket. A cocky smirk overtook his lips then, bringing the ball up to shoot. It would’ve gone in too, if you hadn’t smacked it out of the air, stealing it for yourself. You sprinted down the court towards the other basket with Steve hot on your trail. He managed to get in front of you and you turned your back towards him, protecting the ball in the meantime before you could get a clear shot. “Come on, Harrington. I thought you were the team captain back in high school. Figured you’d be better than this,” you knew it was dangerous, teasing him in such a flirty way, but it was all in good fun, right?
“Oh, I’ll show you, Baby,” Steve practically whispered into your ear, his chest pressing against your back. If you weren’t so focused on beating Steve you would’ve felt the goosebumps that littered your spine. Steve’s arms came up to circle you, so you moved, pivoting to take your shot and knocking Steve out of the way in the process. He lost his balance as the ball left your fingertips. You felt Steve’s hands find your torso as you watched the ball tip into the basket, dragging you down with him as he fell. Your shirt had ridden up when you made your shot, causing Steve’s fingers to brush against your bare skin. It felt like you were falling in slow motion until you finally landed hard on top of Steve, your back flush to his chest. 
Pain shot up your sides as Steve’s fingernails scraped against the semi-healed scars that resided there. You got up quickly, not taking the time to register your pain, lifting your shirt again to see that the wounds had broken open on both sides. It took Steve a second to get up after hitting the ground so hard. The others rushed toward the two of you, but your eyes landed on Steve, his gaze already honed in on the fresh blood pooling on your skin. His hands came down to his own torso, feeling the scarred flesh that matched yours. 
After everything was said and done, the dust settled and Vecna gone for good, there was only the matter of medical care to worry about. Eddie was mostly unscathed, with a few bat bites here and there, but nothing some disinfectant and band-aids couldn’t fix. Lucas was sure to have a swollen eye, cuts, and bruises after fighting Jason. Max was delivered to the hospital where the doctors said she would make a full recovery but might need a pair of glasses. Which just left you and Steve. You had jumped in right after him at Lover’s Lake, fighting your way through the water as he was tugged deeper below. When you popped out of the gate mere seconds after him, the bats swarmed you too. It wasn’t until Nancy appeared, oar in hand, that you managed to escape the feeling of the bat’s teeth sinking into your skin. 
The bats had gotten you good, doing just as much damage to you as they had to Steve. When the fight was over and everyone was safely right-side-up, you refused to get medical care, worried that you’d be poked and prodded while Owens’ doctors tried to study your wounds. Steve refused too, unwilling to be treated unless you were first, not that you knew that.
Robin and Eddie insisted on staying with the two of you to make sure nothing bad happened in the middle of the night. But you said no, pointing out that Eddie needed to stay hidden until his name was cleared. Not to mention that you just wanted to be alone after the strenuousness of the previous few days. You assured Robin and Eddie that your parents would take care of you if anything happened, same with Steve. They reluctantly agreed, dropping you and Steve off in front of your house, leaving the two of you to go your separate ways.
You were about to trudge up the lawn and enter your house, thinking about finally being able to sleep, when you caught sight of Steve’s empty driveway. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that his parents were out of town, and he hadn’t mentioned it to Eddie or Robin either. Steve had already started walking towards his house when you called his name.
“You didn’t say that your parents weren’t home,” you jogged up to him, wincing at the pain that shot up your side. Steve shrugged, also looking desperate for a decent night of sleep. Steve turned around again, continuing towards his house, leaving you on his lawn. You started following him until he saw you from the corner of his eye and stopped again.
“What are you doing?” the words sounded twisted as they fell from his lips, the same venom you expected from the boy who bullied you for years. Your face grew hot with anger, suddenly wondering if you should just turn back around and retreat to your house.
“You can’t be alone tonight, not when you’re in such bad shape,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to come across firmly in an attempt to discourage Steve from arguing with you. He simply raised a brow in question. 
“I think I’ll be fine,” he moved to turn on his heel again, to scale his front steps and enter the cold empty house before him. But your arm shot out, landing on his arm and stopping him in his tracks. Steve froze, mind racing at the feel of your skin against his. He couldn’t remember the last time you touched him, given that you usually kept your distance whenever he was near.
“Steve, I can’t leave you alone in good conscience. If you bleed out and die, that’s on me,” you spoke the words quietly, almost sounding embarrassed to have to say them at all. Steve studied you, eyes roaming over your face. The walls you kept up around him seemingly fell in that moment as he caught sight of the worry hidden deep in your gaze. He nodded then, giving in and leading you to his front door, trying not to look visibly upset when your hand no longer held him.
The house was just as you remembered from when you were a kid. Clean and organized, everything in its designated place. It always frightened you back then, a house so pristine that it didn’t look like anyone could possibly live there. You followed Steve as he ascended the staircase, both of you winded and clutching your wounds when you got to the top. Steve showered in the bathroom attached to his room, offering you a towel and clean clothes before sending you off to the guest bathroom.
The hot water pulsed down on you, blood and grime swirling around the drain at your feet. The water seared your skin with each drop, but you didn’t mind, hoping the sweltering heat would rid you of the horrors you’d witnessed within the past few days. The sight of Eddie being tackled to the ground by a swarm of bats. The sound of Steve’s screams as his flesh was torn open. Your own wails of pain as the bats did the same to you a few feet away. Max’s broken limbs and unfocused eyes as Lucas held her in his arms on the way to the hospital.
You turned the shower off, unwilling to let your thoughts run rampant anymore. You were careful when drying off, avoiding your wounds to keep blood from soiling Mrs. Harrington’s stark white towels. She’d be sure to have a fit at the sight of a stain. You dressed quickly, pulling Steve’s old shirt and baggy sweatpants on. There wasn’t a first aid kit in the guest bathroom, so you headed back to Steve’s room, holding your shirt away from your body to avoid getting blood on it. You knocked gently on Steve’s bedroom door and it only took a moment for him to open it for you. 
His hair was wet, a towel draped over his bare shoulders. He was shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips as water dripped down his hairy chest. Your eyes lingered there for a moment before trailing to the bandages wrapped around his torso. Steve’s eyes followed yours, landing on the gauze tied tightly to his skin.
“I seem to get the shit beat out of me anytime something like this happens,” he used his towel to gently pat his hair dry. “I’ve gotten pretty good at patching myself up,” Steve shrugged, hanging the towel on the back of his bathroom door. 
“Can you do mine?” you asked quietly, lifting your shirt to reveal your wounds. Steve’s gaze flickered down to them, blood from each gash threatening to spill down your sides. His breath caught in his chest at the sight of your exposed skin. It was dumb, just your stomach on display, but it took Steve a second to contain himself. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, memories of your bare skin seen on the few occasions that you forgot to close your curtains before changing. Steve always looked away, but the flashes of your skin were seared into his brain. He nodded in response to your question, going into the bathroom with you trailing behind him. He told you to sit on the counter, pulling out the first aid kit from the cabinet next to your dangling legs. Steve wiped each wound with an antiseptic wipe, cleaning the area and sopping up the thin blood that surrounded it. His hands were gentle and soft like he was afraid to touch you, to break you.
“Hold this,” Steve placed a gauze pad on one of the wounds, his fingers guiding your hand to rest over it, holding it in place. He ignored the tingle in his fingers as his skin brushed yours, moving on to place another pad over the other blemish. Your hand came up automatically, holding it in place without Steve having to tell you again. He unraveled the rest of the gauze, slowly wrapping it around your waist, softly brushing your hands away when he no longer needed you to hold the pads in place. Steve circled it around you a few times, finally securing the gauze tightly in place with a swift knot.
“Thank you, Steve,” you whispered, his face close to yours. Steve hummed in response, letting his eyes drift to your lips for a moment too long before pulling himself away and packing up the first aid kit. He returned it to the cabinet, his shoulder brushing your leg in the process, sending chills down his spine. 
Steve stood then, opening the linen closet by the door, searching for a blanket to give you in case the guest room got too cold. You were tired, to the point of exhaustion really, longing to lay your head against a soft pillow. But fear came creeping in, the demons in your closet, or the demogorgons rather, holding your mind hostage. The fears controlled you then, in combination with the exhaustion, speaking words from your lips that you otherwise wouldn’t have even considered muttering.
“Can I sleep in here? With you?” when you were first dropped off all you could think about was finally being alone, but as you sat there now, Steve's clothes covering your skin, you realized that wasn’t what you wanted at all. Steve froze, and his quest to find a blanket quickly halted. He looked up at you, taking in the heavy bags under your eyes, the weight of the past few days slumping your shoulders forward. He knew under normal circumstances that you never would have asked, and probably couldn’t have even stood being in the same room as him for more than two minutes, but these weren’t normal circumstances. And he would take what he could get.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll sleep on the floor. You can take the bed,” Steve turned to the linen closet once more, searching for a blanket for himself this time. He heard you slide off the counter, thinking you’d brush past him and get into his bed, but you didn’t. You stopped next to him, pulling Steve’s focus to you.
“You can’t sleep on the floor. What if you bleed out? I’d never know if you were down there. At least not until the morning,” Steve placed his hands on your shoulders, ceasing your seemingly endless babble. Your eyes were wide and bloodshot, staring back at Steve with a worried brow.
“Okay,” he agreed, trying to calm himself, the jitters of being so close to you creeping in. “We’ll both sleep in my bed,” his hands fell to his sides and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Steve left the bathroom, turning out the light as he did. You slid into Steve’s bed, the sheets pulled up around you as Steve switched off his lamp. The bed dipped beside you from Steve’s weight. You went to roll over, trying to face him, but you were met with pain, gasping and clutching your side with a hiss. Steve shot up, trying to help you but only injuring himself with his sharp movement in the process. You couldn’t help but laugh as you both settled down onto your backs.
“Aren’t we a pair,” you mumbled and Steve chuckled beside you. The room was dark, filled with the scent of a burned-out candle, Steve's lavender-scented shampoo, dirty laundry, and something else inherently Steve. Your eyes watched the ceiling, lying in silence next to the boy you supposedly hated. He rustled around beside you, trying to get comfortable. In a normal situation, you would’ve snapped at him for moving the bed so much, but right now you found it amusing. After another minute of restless movement, he let out a groan.
“I normally sleep on my stomach, but this shit makes it impossible,” annoyance laced his tone as he referred to the bat bites lining the front of his stomach. Your head turned in his direction, silently taking in his side profile, his sharp nose, and long eyelashes. He almost looked normal if you ignored the angry ring of red flesh lining his neck. 
“I’m a side sleeper,” you spoke softly, Steve’s head turning towards your voice. For some reason, he liked hearing more about you, even if it was just something as silly as how you normally slept. “I’m in the same boat as you, Harrington,” the wounds on your sides making it impossible to lay that way. Steve could just make out the shadows of your face in the dim light. The curve of your lips, the arch of your brow, the tip of your nose. He thought you looked beautiful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop the bats from getting you,” your lip quivered then, tears welling in your eyes as you lived up to your crybaby nickname. You weren’t sure where the burst of emotion came from, chalking it up to the exhaustion that weighed heavily upon you. Steve lifted his head, his hand coming up to brush away your tears.
“Are you kidding? You jumped in right after me. If you hadn’t been there I would’ve been dead in less than a minute. You distracted some of them. I would’ve been bat food if not for you. If anyone’s sorry it should be me,” you shook your head and Steve’s hand came down to rest on your cheek, thumb rubbing circles against it gently as he spoke. Why were you letting him hold you like this? Why did it feel so comforting? You sniffled, trying to stop your tears from falling. “Baby, you saved me. I need you to know that,” you nodded at his reassurance, too choked up still to use your words. Your eyes were heavy by then, the lack of sleep weighing in on you even more. 
“I'm glad I went through that gate then,” you mumbled, words barely audible through your sleep-slurred speech. With the last of your energy, you moved, rolling onto your stomach, the wounds on your sides untouched by the mattress. Steve followed your lead, moving onto his side, and facing you. His arm draped across you, careful to avoid your wounds, and a soft sigh left your lips as your eyes slowly closed. Your breath evened out soon after, slowed inhales and exhales taking over. Steve’s fingers found the bulge of the cotton pads on your side, tracing across them gently, a comforting gesture that you’d never know about. He wished he had superpowers, the ability to heal you with just a touch. But he didn’t, so he’d do this instead, easing your pain with a soft touch while you slept.
When you woke in the morning you had the overwhelming urge to pee. You slid gently from Steve’s embrace, somehow managing to get even closer to him during the night. You tiptoed to the bathroom, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy. The large mirror covering the wall taunted you when you finished, urging you to take a peek beneath the gauze. You caved, hands gently pushing the gauze to the side. The bleeding had stopped and the gashes already started looking better. It was curious how well they had cleared up overnight, but you just shrugged, used to the strangeness of the supernatural by now. You climbed back into bed with Steve after putting the bandages back into place. You wanted another minute of peace, a moment, maybe the last of its kind, when you and Steve didn’t hurt each other. When Steve Harrington was still the boy you knew, not the one you’d grown to loathe.
“Shit Steve, seriously?” You winced as the blood began to trickle down your skin. “It’s a basketball game, not tackle football,” you lost your balance for a moment, Lucas’ arms shooting up to steady you. Steve stood speechless, incapable of fathoming how his hands did so much harm to you. The skin had never quite healed right, you suppose, more fragile than most other places on your body. “Eddie, can you take me home,” you asked, trying to keep your shirt from getting wet with blood, knowing your shorts were a lost cause with scarlet droplets already pooling at the waistband. Eddie nodded quickly, rushing to your side as if he had to carry you to the van.
“I can take you. I mean, I live next door. I’ll clean you up,” Steve suddenly was able to find words, knocked out of his stupor. He moved towards you then, but you raised your hand, stopping him in his tracks.
“I asked Eddie,” you spoke with a glare, already walking toward the court’s exit. Eddie shot Steve a sympathetic look before following behind you. Robin lifted her hand to comfortingly pat Steve’s back while his mouth fell slightly agape. You got into the van with a wince and Eddie closed the door for you. Robin, Steve, and Lucas were filing off the court then. Steve’s head was down while he unlocked his car. Eddie turned the keys in the ignition, started the van, and began to pull out of the lot.
It was an accident, you knew that, so why did it frustrate you so much? The same hands that once held yours as children now were the ones to lacerate your skin. Maybe it was the ache you buried deep inside, the one you’d never been able to alleviate, the pain Steve perpetuated for years. The one you hadn’t been able to forgive him for no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you wanted to. He left you, tossed you aside like you were some old sweater discarded beneath his bed, like you were nothing. It seemed never-ending like you’d never escape his harmful grasp. You wanted to be five again when the world seemed so much kinder and you loved Steve Harrington. Maybe the latter was still true, maybe that’s why he scarred you more than the others ever had.
As Eddie drove towards the exit, your gaze drifted up, landing on Steve. Robin and Lucas had already gotten into Steve’s car, but he stood outside of it, arms resting on the crook between the car’s roof and the door. His eyes followed you through the van window as Eddie sped away. A strange look overtook Steve’s face, one you couldn’t quite read. It was the look of a boy that never wanted to hurt you, but somehow constantly did.
I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs
           The sun hid behind the clouds, peaks of light streaming through the cracks in the sky. Tires rolled against the pavement, making their way across town. The radio was low in the car, some Fleetwood Mac song lulling softly through the air. Your car was old, covered in dents and scratches, with windows that only opened halfway and an engine that grumbled with each press to the gas pedal. Even though your parents offered to help you buy a new one, a more reliable form of transportation, you refused. This car held too many memories in its stained cloth seats. Your first kiss in the backseat, jam sessions with Eddie, driving Will, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas to the science fair where they finally got first place again. You couldn’t let it go, not yet, not while it still had some life in it. You knew how much it sucked to be abandoned. 
           The tires screeched and squealed as you turned into the Family Video parking lot. You pulled into a space near the front of the store, dim headlights shutting off when you pulled the keys from the ignition. Robin had told you she was working today, but as you looked around you were unable to find her bike in its normal place on the bike rack. You did however spot a maroon BMW parked near the back of the lot. That lying bitch. A sigh fell from your lips, eyes closing at the thought of seeing Steve. It had been two days since the basketball incident and you had been sure to keep your distance. Steve’s sorry eyes peeked through bedroom windows and only made you feel guilty for getting mad at him in the first place. But you couldn’t stall this any longer, the movies were due today and you’d be pissed if you got another late fee. So you grabbed the tapes from the passenger seat, holding them close to your chest as you closed your car door and walked through the entrance to Family Video.
           Steve stood hunched over the counter, the same way he normally did when the store was empty like it was now. His eyes were glued to the magazine that rested on the counter before him. It was a Cosmopolitan. He was ashamed to admit that he was searching its pages for tips on how to get back in your good graces. So far he was coming up short, but he still skimmed through it anyway. The bell rang above the door, signaling to Steve that a customer had entered. 
           “Welcome to Family Video. My name’s Steve. Let me know if you need help with anything,” the words spilled from Steve’s lips automatically, his gaze still glued to the magazine. It took Steve a moment to register the silence he received in response, brushing it off as another inconsiderate customer. At least that’s what he thought until a stack of tapes slammed down on the counter beside him. Steve looked up then, seeing you standing across from him with raised eyebrows. Your eyes trailed down to Steve’s magazine, and his gaze followed yours. In less than a second, Steve had slid the magazine off the counter, quickly tossing behind him. You simply blinked, an amused smile blossoming on your lips as the magazine crashed to the floor. 
           “I want to return some tapes,” you couldn’t help the smirk that remained as you spoke, pushing the stack of video tapes in front of the boy. Steve nodded, picking up the first tape and scanning it back into the system. “What were you reading there, Harrington?” he could hear your smile through your amused tone, refusing to meet your eyes as he continued to scan your tapes. 
           “Sports Illustrated,” Steve lied, ignoring the way your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You couldn’t contain your laughter anymore, clutching your sides as giggles poured from your throat. Your laughter was contagious, causing a few chuckles to spring out of Steve too. 
           “Whatever you say, Harrington,” you composed yourself, finally ceasing your giggles, but the smile remained taut on your lips. Steve handed over your receipt for the returned tapes, expecting you to leave after clutching it in your hands, but you didn’t. Your feet drifted over to the movie-lined aisles and Steve couldn’t help but follow, tripping over his discarded magazine in the process. 
Eventually, you stopped in front of a shelf, Steve watched the way you studied your options. When one finally caught your attention you leaned up, standing on your tippy toes to grab it. Your shirt rode up in the process, revealing the large bandages that covered the wounds on your sides. Steve’s heart dropped, the memories of the basketball game, the whole reason he had been reading that stupid magazine in the first place, flooded his mind. Just as your fingers brushed the front of the tape, seconds from getting ahold of it, Steve’s hand lifted it instead, offering it to you.
“Thanks,” you said sincerely, only then noticing the kicked puppy look on Steve’s face. You opened your mouth to speak again, but Steve beat you to it.
“I’m so sorry about the other day. I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got carried away,” Steve’s gaze drifted to the ground, missing the pity that swelled in your eyes. “I’m sorry this shit keeps happening. It’s just that when I’m with you I can’t seem to function like a normal person,” he lifted his head then, catching a glimpse of emotion in your expression. Regret? Or is it that underlying anger you saved just for him?
“It’s fine, Steve,” you assured him, but the boy wasn’t comforted. He opened his mouth to apologize again, but you didn’t let him. “Dude, I’m sick of hearing you apologize. It's fine. If anything I should apologize for being such a bitch about it. It was an accident, let’s move on,” Steve eyed you, unsure whether you were messing with him or not. But you were serious, hoping that the old Steve still lived within the boy in front of you, and that one day you could make amends. Maybe this was the first step, and if that meant forgiving him for something he accidentally did, then so be it. “Check me out?” you asked, holding the tape up for Steve to see. He nodded, going back behind the counter. He reached down, grabbing a copy of Casablanca from under the counter and placing it next to the movie you had just picked out, but you shook your head.
“You don’t want it?” Steve asked, suddenly wondering if you had been kidnapped and replaced by a clone. That was the only logical explanation for your behavioral change towards both him and your favorite movie. 
“Kinda bored of complicated romances at the moment. Maybe another day,” Steve slid the movie back under the counter, keeping it there in case you changed your mind. “I heard this one was good though,” you gesture to the copy of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off that you had picked out. 
“Yeah, Robin said that she thinks I’d like it. Haven’t had a chance to watch it yet though,” Steve scanned the tape, fixing his gaze on the computer, where he typed in the code for his employee discount. He did it every time you came in during his shift, thinking he was sly and that you’d never noticed, but you caught on a while ago. It came to light after a rousing argument with Robin about how she had been overcharging you. 
You pulled a few crumpled bills from your purse, handing them over to Steve. He waited, knowing you were now going to dig around your purse until you found some coins, never willing to pay with anything other than exact change. After a few seconds, you pulled the coins out, two quarters, a dime, and three pennies. You placed them gently in Steve’s extended hand. His palm tingled with the brush of your fingers, quickly sorting the coins to alleviate the sensation. He handed you the bag with your tape when he finished putting your change away. With a small smile, you turned, heading back towards the door you entered through. Just as you were about to place your hand on the large handle and push it open, you stopped. Steve, who had been watching as you walked away, felt that dreaded sense of hope again, the one he felt so often when you were near.
“What time do you get done here?” Steve’s eyebrows raised, taken aback by your question. His mouth opened, fumbling for words as he checked his watch.
“Thirty-two minutes. Why?” you chuckled at his sudden nervousness. Maybe he really had come a long way from his days as King Steve. King Steve never would’ve struggled like this when talking to a girl.
“Do you want to watch this with me?” you held up the bag that housed the Ferris Bueller VHS, extending an olive branch. Steve’s response was immediate like he didn’t even need to think about it.
“Yes,” it was a simple answer, but you just nodded in return, a shy smile creasing the corners of your mouth. “We can watch it at my place. My TV is bigger,” Steve smirked, regaining his charming and flirty tone, the one you’d gotten so familiar with as a result of all the teasing. You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, smile still cresting your lips, and pushed your way through the exit.
“Whatever you say, Harrington,” you called out behind you, repeating the same words from earlier. Steve laughed, watching your retreating figure, the sway of your hips, and the swell of your ass. He looked at his watch again, still displaying the same time as when he had checked just moments before. Steve groaned into his hands. This was going to be the longest thirty-two minutes of his life. 
You were enveloped in a book, sitting on your window bench when a light tap sounded off next to you. Thinking it was just the old house creaking or something, you ignored it, eyes scanning the next page. That’s when it happened again, and again, and again. You pulled back your curtains and flung open the window only to narrowly avoid getting smacked in the face by a pebble.
“Shit, sorry,” Steve swore, his cheeks turning red with guilt and embarrassment. He was standing below your window, pebbles spilling out of his hand. A week or two ago, hell maybe even a few days ago, you would’ve gone off on him, screaming about nearly hurting you and potentially damaging your window. But now, you just smiled, taking in the sight of the boy next door. Only Steve Harrington could make a romantic gesture nearly turn into a trip to the hospital. “I tried to leave you a message, but your curtains were closed,” you glanced over to his window, spotting the piece of loose leaf taped to it with the words ‘come over?’ scrawled in black ink.
“Give me two seconds,” you pulled your head back inside, closing the window behind you. As you did, a few of the army men on your window sill fell on their sides, no longer facing the window across the gap between two houses. Snagging the video tape from your desk, you ran down the steps, stopping in front of the mirror hung up in the hallway. Why did you suddenly care how your hair looked around Steve? Brushing off the thought, you continued, opening the front door to be met by the boy next door. 
“Ready?” he asked and you nodded, following as he turned towards his house. You walked closely behind him, catching a whiff of hairspray, lavender, and cologne. Steve led you to the rec room in the basement, which housed the largest television in the Harrington residence. You handed him the tape and he slid it into the VCR before settling on the couch, a good two feet from where you sat. Neither of you mentioned the distance, just watching the movie and laughing at Ferris’ goofy antics.
As the movie progressed a chill ran through you, goosebumps prickling your skin. The Harrington’s seemingly liked to keep their basement ice cold. Steve noticed and pulled down the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. He laid it on his lap, extending the end of it towards you. You accepted his silent invitation, closing the gap and sitting close with the blanket wrapped around the two of you. The rest of the movie was spent that way, thighs brushing against one another when either of you moved.
When the credits finally ended, with Ferris Bueller in his bathrobe disappearing from the screen one last time, you felt at ease. You hadn’t expected to feel so comfortable with Steve, but it was almost a relief that you managed to get through a whole movie without wanting to kill him.
“That was so good. Robin was totally right, I loved it. I'm basically Ferris Bueller so it makes sense I guess,” Steve shrugged and you couldn’t hold back the laugh that bloomed from your lips at his comment. Steve turned to look at you, a brow arched in confusion at your humor. “What?” he asked bluntly, a hint of amusement on his face.
“You would think that you’re Ferris,” you spoke, looking smug. Steve's lips stretched into a daring grin, curiosity getting the best of him.
“Okay, if I’m not Ferris then who am I?” Steve leaned in close and you rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder.
“It’s so obvious that you’re Cameron. Sure, the people that don’t know you that well might think you’re Ferris, but I know you Steve Harrington, and you’re Cameron fully and completely,” your grin widened with Steve’s look of exasperation. His hand flew to his chest in mock offense.
“What the hell makes me Cameron?” his words still had the air of joviality behind them despite his faux wounded front. The corner of your lips faltered then, suddenly reluctant to divulge more about your characterization of the boy before you. You didn’t want to tell him what he already knew, that he and Cameron shared a strained relationship with their fathers, both all too afraid of disappointing the men who raised them. That up until recently both boys took all the shit that their fathers gave them, too freighted to stand up to them. You didn’t want to say any of it, which was fine because Steve already knew. From the second Cameron appeared on the screen, the voice in the back of Steve’s head pointed out each similarity that they shared. Silence settled over the two of you, smiles fading in the quiet room.
“If it makes you feel better,” you began, voice small and fingers fidgeting on your lap. Steve wanted to reach over and grab them, encase your fingers with his, but he restrained himself. “Cameron was my favorite character in the movie,” you nodded towards the TV screen that now reflected a blank blue shadow over the pair of you. Steve observed your bashful demeanor, thinking about how cute you looked when you got all shy. 
“You would definitely be Jeanie,” Steve asserted, breaking through the uncomfortable quiet. Your jaw dropped at the comparison and the smile returned to Steve’s lips at your reaction.
“Ferris’s bitchy sister?” Steve nodded and you shoved him again. He righted himself, continuing to make his point.
“I mean, come on, it’s so obvious,” Steve repeated your words from earlier and you shook your head. “You’re both a little crazy in a hot way. Not to mention you both go for bad boys,” you glared at Steve, but he could tell you weren’t actually mad.
“I’m not into bad boys, asshole,” you defended and Steve’s smirk grew, his rebuttal already concocted in his head.
“Oh really? So it wasn’t you that hooked up with Billy Hargrove at Tina’s Halloween party two years ago?” your jaw dropped again, and Steve’s snickering filled the air. He reached over, pressing your chin up to close your mouth. You brushed his hand off of you in confusion.
“How the hell do you know about that?” you asked, confusion and curiosity coursing through your thoughts. “Did Eddie tell you? I swear to god I’m never telling him anything ever again,” you crossed your arms, waiting for Steve to talk.
“Hargrove used to brag about it to me and try to rub it in my face,” Steve informed you and your face wrinkled, filled with questions. “I guess he thought that it would make me mad since you and I used to be friends or whatever,” Steve shrugged, no longer smiling. He watched you, unsure how you would react to his explanation. 
“Did it?” you questioned, and Steve shrugged again. He didn’t want to tell you that it did, that it took every fiber of his being to restrain himself from punching the blond boy’s stupid face.
“A little,” Steve lied and another silence fell over the room, but it wasn’t as tense this time. Steve waited a moment before speaking again, watching the way you avoided his gaze. “Why’d you even hook up with him? I thought you hated him,” Steve’s voice was quiet, unwilling to break through the low noise barrier that settled between you.
“You stole my copy of Pride and Prejudice,” you let out a sigh, gaze shifting to your hands that rested in your lap again. Steve’s brow furrowed, confused about the correlation between his question and your response. “It was the copy my grandma gave me when I was 11. I had notes in the margins on just about every page. You took it from my bag in homeroom the day before the party and refused to give it back,” Steve knew what you were talking about. He couldn’t remember why he took it, but he knew that he still had it, tucked away in his closet, in a spot that only he could find.
“But what does that have to do with Billy?” Steve still didn’t understand. Your hands ran over your face as you let out a sigh.
“You hated him and he hated you. I figured the enemy of my enemy was my friend, which wasn’t true by the way. I was super pissed about the book and a little tipsy. I needed to blow off some steam, so one thing led to another and we hooked up in his car after the party,” you were ashamed of it, regret filling you the second it was over. “I didn’t know that he was such a douchebag when it happened. If I had known how badly he treated Max and Lucas then I never would’ve done it,” you explained, still unable to meet Steve’s gaze, embarrassed by your past. Steve’s hand extended, tilting your chin with his finger, allowing your eyes to finally meet his.
“I shouldn't have taken your book, Baby,” Steve whispered and you gave him a soft smile in return. The nickname rang through the air and reverberated off the walls. Hearing it didn’t bother you for some reason. For the first time in years, the word didn’t sting as it fell from Steve’s lips. Maybe the tide finally turned, the war nearly over. It gave you a sense of courage, making you brave enough to let your next question out in the open.
“When Billy bragged about it, what did he say?” Steve was taken aback, wondering why you would want to know. Billy’s words were far from nice, if anything they were disrespectful and an invasion of privacy. But the way you looked at Steve now told him that you genuinely wanted to know, needed to know.
“It was really depraved stuff, like how your body felt against him,” Steve started and you nodded, motioning with your hands for him to continue. “He said you would start to breathe heavily when he kissed your neck. That you did this thing with your tongue when you kissed that felt insanely good. He said you moaned his name like it was made just for you to say it. That your thighs shook when you…” Steve trailed off, face flushed and unwilling to finish his sentence. He had started speaking slower with each sentence, despite the racing of his heart. The tension floated thick in the air, crowding the room and making it way too hot for the blanket draped over your lap. Steve wasn’t sure when his hand had dropped to your lap, brushing between your legs from over the blanket.
Your eyes were glued to Steve’s, unaware of the distance that disappeared between you with each passing second. His breath mingled with yours, tingling against your skin. Your tongue darted out, bringing moisture to your dry lips. The heat between your thighs ached to be relieved, wishing Steve’s hand would travel higher up your thigh as his jeans tightened at the sight of your gaze alone. The blue from the TV screen that coated the room disappeared as your eyes fluttered shut. Both sets of lips were centimeters from meeting in the middle when the VCR popped out the tape, landing with a loud smack on the ground. Steve had leaned on the remote while moving closer toward you, accidentally pressing the eject button. He knew he needed to fix the VCR, worried about its tendency to spit out tapes rather than the slow half push it was supposed to do, but he’d put it off, too tired after a long day of work. You broke apart at the sound, creating more distance as you moved the blanket from your legs and scrambled back, Steve’s hand falling into the now empty space. Neither of you could look up at the other.
“I wish we stayed friends when we were in middle school,” Steve said after a long span of silence. He never wanted to be your enemy, never wanted to drive you into the arms of an undeserving man. Your eyes met then, his were glassy, which was something you hadn’t expected. 
“Yeah, me too,” your voice was small but sure, words speaking nothing but the truth. You didn’t remind him why you weren’t, something you would’ve done a week ago. Instead, you sat in agreement, pondering how different your life would be.
“I wonder what would've changed,” he spoke. It was soft, almost a whisper, and you longed to be close to him again. To feel his words fan across your lips instead of the empty space beside you. “If I would’ve been friends with Tommy, if I would’ve dated Nancy, if we’d be off at a college somewhere instead of this shithole town,” Steve was louder now, melancholy mixed with underlying anger. Even if you were finally able to be friends now, Steve couldn’t help but think about the time he missed out on with you and all the other lingering what-ifs. 
“We could still get out one day. Leave the teen angst and trauma behind,” you sounded normal again, reassuring to Steve’s overactive thoughts. “Maybe we could go together,” Steve’s heart leaped out of his chest at your words, but he reeled it back in. It was still new, being able to talk without words slicing into the other’s skin. You looked at him with anticipatory eyes, awaiting his response.
“Just give me the signal Baby and we can be out of here before sunrise,” Steve extended his hand, this was a deal to shake on, a long-term agreement that one day you’d run away together. You grinned, accepting his outstretched hand, wondering about where you’d go. Considering if you were in love with Steve Harrington, if you always had been. Dying to know if he was in love with you too.
A friend to all is a friend to none 
           Autumn had officially begun, a chill in the air that persuaded the orange leaves to tumble from the trees. It was your favorite time of year, though you couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that swelled in your heart at the thought of leaving the warm summer sun behind. Eddie insisted that you come to visit him at work, his desperation ringing out through the static of the phone. After a few minutes of groveling, you caved and agreed to go, which is how you ended up banished to the backseat of Steve’s car on the way to the record store on main street. Robin had called shotgun, but you didn’t mind, having the entire backseat to yourself and stretching out your legs. Steve’s car smelled like pine trees and leather, hairspray and cologne, as it rolled along the pavement. 
Steve pulled up to a parking spot in front of the record store, placing his hand on the passenger seat headrest as he threw the car in reverse. He turned his head towards the car’s rear, watching carefully as he backed into a spot, shooting you a wink before he faced the front again. You couldn’t help the warmth that spread over your cheeks, feeling like a bumbling schoolgirl with a crush. Ever since your movie night, your almost kiss, things had been different with Steve. Sure, there was still some teasing and the typical dirty innuendos, but it didn’t sting the way it used to. It didn’t evolve into slammed windows and drawn curtains, loud arguments and bruised egos. Something new coursed through your veins, your heart beating just to hear the sound of his voice. It was scary, the rush of feelings that you’d seemingly repressed for years, hidden under what you thought was hate. 
“You coming or what?” Robin leaned back into Steve’s car to face you. The thoughts of Steve had distracted you and you only now noticed that they had already exited the car. You followed suit, unbuckling and sliding across the seat to get out on Steve’s side. He greeted you with an arm slung around your shoulder, purposely messing up your hair in the process. You swatted at him, smoothing your hair back down as you walked through the store’s entrance together. Music wafted down from the speakers that littered the ceiling and you instantly knew that Eddie had picked out whatever metal song was playing. As if he could hear the mention of his name in your thoughts, Eddie appeared in front of you, grabbing ahold of your wrist and dragging you towards the front counter. Meanwhile, Robin and Steve headed towards the back, searching for some Abba vinyl that Steve had been wanting for ages. The absence of Steve’s arm around your shoulder left you with a chill, the tingle brought on by his touch subsiding, but you brushed it aside following the long-haired boy. 
You went behind the counter with Eddie, hopping up to sit in the space between the cash register and the pile of records stacked to the left. It was a familiar spot for you, somewhere you’d sat a million times, much to Eddie’s manager’s dismay. In this spot, you’d talk about dates that you went on, someone from high school who got knocked up or married, a new song Eddie was working on, and your hatred for Steve Harrington. But this time was different. Eddie remained silent as you perched before him, crossing his arms over his chest and peering at you with knowing eyes. He came to stand in front of you, his stomach brushing against your knees. You glared at him in response, already knowing the words that were about to crest his lips.
“You and Harrington have been awfully close lately,” a smirk danced across his face, arms uncrossing, hands landing to rest on your knees. You narrowed your eyes, placing your hands behind you, and leaning back on them.
“We’re sort of friends now, I guess,” you shrugged and Eddie leaned in even closer, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead as if he was testing your temperature. You smacked his hand away, earning a yelp in response. The grin reappeared on Eddie’s lips as he shook his hand to alleviate the pain caused by your slap. 
“Friends, huh?” you nodded as his question, eyeing Eddie for his next move. Someone entered the store, the chime of the bell over the door alerting the both of you. But the two of you didn’t flinch, didn’t even spare the new customer a glance, too enveloped in your weird standoff staring contest. Instead, Eddie called out his standard greeting, welcoming the person to Rad Records, as his eyes roamed over you, searching for an unspecified answer. “Just friends, nothing more?” Eddie finally continued, needing more evidence to make his case, to find the answer to his unasked question. And you gave it to him, eyes darting away from his and legs beginning to bounce. Eddie’s jaw dropped, a gasp seeping from the open space between his lips.
“Shut the fuck up, Edward,” you rushed out, clamping your hand over his slack jaw. Eddie’s wide eyes trailed from you to Steve and back. His lips moved behind your hand, trying to speak, but you shushed him, refusing to let go until he calmed down. You cringed at the swipe of his tongue against your palm, but still held on tight. After a few seconds, Eddie stopped and you took it as a sign to set him free. Your hand retracted, falling limply onto your lap, where you wiped his saliva onto your jeans.
“Holy shit. You like him. You actually, consciously, like him,” Eddie whisper-yelled at you and it took a considerable amount of effort to not spontaneously combust at his words. It’s one thing to finally admit it to yourself, it’s another to hear it spoken out loud. Still, you felt like there was a ritual you had to play along with, like you had to deny the accusation.
“I so do not,” you spoke stubbornly, but Eddie could hear the give in your voice, knowing the truth.
“You totally do. The fact that it’s taken you this long to realize is insane,” Robin spoke up from behind you, startling you with her sudden appearance. You looked beside her, expecting to see Steve, but he wasn’t there. You didn’t know whether to be sad or relieved by his absence from the conversation.
“Where is Steve anyway?” you shifted on the counter, making space for Robin to rest her elbows next to you. Robin nodded towards the back of the store. Steve’s figure was obscured by the towering displays that littered the room.
“Some guy that he knew from the basketball team came in and started talking to him. Steve called him Jumpy or something. I dipped out as soon as I could, so Steve’s stuck back there now,” you cringed at the name that fell from Robin’s lips. Jumpy was the dumbass nickname of Allen Peterson, some douchebag that was friends with Tommy.
“Ugh, he and Tommy once broke into the girl’s locker room during gym and stole my clothes. I had to walk around in my gym uniform for the rest of the day. It was humiliating,” a frown bloomed on your lips, one that was echoed by Eddie and Robin. 
“I remember that. They somehow never got caught,” Eddie’s eyes trailed to the back of the store, still unable to spot Steve. “You want me to kick him out?” Eddie’s eyebrows raised in question, almost begging for the chance to kick someone out of the store. But you shook your head, tapping his shoulder so he’d move out of the way. He did, stepping to the side, allowing you to slide down from the glass counter.
“I want to see if he remembers me. Maybe mess with him a bit,” Eddie and Robin waved you off as you walked towards the back, the top of Steve’s perfectly styled hair coming into view as you got closer. You approached from behind Steve, not able to get a good view of his face. You were still hidden, questioning whether you should continue with your plan or not. Wondering if Allen would do something to upset you, tease you, and make you feel small. But Steve was there, and how could he hurt you when the boy you loved was standing by your side? Just as you were about to take a step out, you heard something, Allen’s voice. 
“Dude, I can’t believe you’ve been hanging out with such losers,” Allen’s words elicited a soft scoff from your lips. He peaked in high school but here he was calling you a loser? You wished you could see Steve’s face, to know what was running through his mind, the witty comeback that was sure to leave his lips any second now. But it didn’t. All you heard was the smooth sound of his laugh dancing through the store.
“Come on, man. They’re not that bad,” you brushed off Steve’s weak, delayed defense. At least he stood up for you in some regard, that’s what matters.
“Nah man, that Baby chick is nuts. I remember how weird she was in high school, always crying over something. Sometimes I just wanted to bend her over and give her something to cry about, you know?” Allen mimed thrusting his hips as his words hung in the air. It made you feel dirty and violated, like he had already touched you in the way he said that he wanted to. The boy viewed you as an object, nothing more than something to be used to satisfy his needs. Your eyes bore into the back of Steve’s head, willing him to speak up on your behalf. To defend you, to protect you, to punch this asshole in the face. But Steve was never good at defending you and all he did was laugh again. That irritatingly coy laugh, the one that set off alarm bells whenever you heard it. The laugh that belonged to the reigning king, not the boy you loved.
“Oh yeah, totally. One good screw would straighten her right out,” at that moment you could’ve sworn that the entire town could hear your heart as it shattered. You weren’t really sure when you revealed yourself from your hiding spot behind the bookshelf, but your eyes locked with Allen’s, and his stupid smirk dropped. Steve tracked his gaze, spinning on his heels to see you, tears welling in the corners of your eyes, forehead creased, and red-hot anger coursing through you. You turned, moving as fast as you could towards the exit at the front of the store. Steve chased behind you, his hand catching your arm right after you passed through the door. Eddie and Robin looked alarmed at the sight of you both stopped before the store’s glass front.
“Let go of me,” you spoke hotly, cursing the strength of Steve’s grip. Steve’s eyes roamed over you, catching the flicker of hurt that flashed across your face before you restored it to its angry glare. 
“I didn’t mean it. It’s just-” Steve began, but you quickly cut him off, still trying to wrangle your arm from his grasp.
“I don’t give a shit what you meant, Harrington. I thought you changed. I forgave you for all the shit you put me through. Guess I wrong to think you were capable of being a decent person,” Steve’s eyes watered at your words, hating himself for making you doubt him and how he feels for you.
“I have changed. I don’t know why I said that shit,” Steve pleaded, he wanted you to understand, to give him five minutes to explain himself. But Steve knew this was it, you’d already made your decision, it wouldn’t matter even if he got down on his knees and begged. He’d broken your trust, said shit he didn’t mean, and now he’d lost you again, the same way he did years before, the way he never wanted to again. Steve let go of your arm, giving you the freedom you asked for when you first left the record store with him in tow. Your arm felt numb, empty, without Steve’s hand there, and you cursed your stupid heart for not wanting him to let go.
“I guess old habits die hard, Harrington. Stay the fuck out of my life,” your words spat from deep within you, fire coating each syllable. Steve watched as you turned, making your way down the sidewalk and turning into an alleyway between two stores. Eddie and Robin burst through the record store’s entrance, ignoring the autumn chill that they were greeted with as they did. Steve wiped his eyes, glad to have tears clouding his vision because he was not sure he could stand to see his best friend's face as he recounted the past few minutes to her. Eddie looked to Steve, silently asking where you went, and Steve lifted his hand pointing in your direction. Eddie took off, turning the corner to the alley to find you slumped on the ground, knees to your chest and head in your hands. He approached you slowly, pulling you into him when he finally got close enough. Sobs racked your body, chest heaving against Eddie’s as he held you in a tight hug, knees resting on the cement below. 
“I hate him, Eds. I fucking hate him,” Eddie nodded in understanding, stroking your hair and pulling it from where it stuck to your tear-stained cheeks. “I should’ve known he’d break my heart again. I should’ve known not to let myself fall in love with him,” your tears soaked Eddie’s shirt and he froze, stuck on the words that fell from your lips. Love. Sure, he’d known you liked Steve, but love was different. Love meant more hurt. It held more weight. It meant that you set aside the past and moved on. It meant you finally gave in to the feelings that gnawed at your heart and your brain each night. It meant that Steve really fucked up.
Chasing shadows in the grocery line
           Steve’s car finally peeled away and flew down main street, signaling to Eddie that the coast was clear. He walked you back to the now barren record store, save for his co-worker Terry, who was in the back unpacking a new shipment. Eddie asked Terry to cover for him and when Terry saw your tear-stained cheeks and red puffy eyes, he agreed, no questions asked. So Eddie put you in the passenger seat of his van and sped off down the road. You didn’t ask where he was going when he passed the street that led to your house, already knowing where he was taking you. 
           Eddie’s van stopped abruptly in front of his trailer. Wayne’s car was gone, signaling that he’d already left for work, leaving the trailer empty. It was getting dark, gloomy clouds blocking the sun as the moon rose in the sky opposite it. The porch lights flickered on, illuminating the shadows of your face through the cracked windshield. You caught sight of Lucas’ bike through the back window. It was lying on its side outside of Max’s trailer, thrown in haste. Normally it would’ve made you laugh, elicit a joke about young lovebirds to fall from your lips, but right now you couldn’t even will the corners of your lips to curl into a faint smile. 
Eddie opened your car door, gently lifting you by your waist and placing you on the ground. You followed him inside, trailing behind him like a lost, heartbroken puppy with nowhere else to go. He led you to his room, indicating for you to sit on his bed, so you did. Eddie placed a soft kiss on your forehead, the kind a mother gives her child, and lifted your arms. He disrobed you of your heavy knit sweater, your way of protecting yourself from the autumn winds that pierced the air, and replaced it with one of his Black Sabbath shirts. You unclipped your bra through the shirt, pulling it out of your sleeve before tossing it to the floor. The action always amazed Eddie, drawing a laugh from his lips, but this time he remained quiet, too concerned over you to pay attention to much else. Next, Eddie unlaced your shoes, pulling them from your feet. You shimmied from your pants after, throwing them across the room, uncaring where they landed. 
With a shaky breath, you laid down, facing the wall, your back turned to Eddie. Eddie pulled off his leather jacket, shucked off his jeans, and moved towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you, Eddie’s body now close to yours. He pulled the bed sheets up to cover you both before draping his arm across your torso. You relaxed into him a bit, fingers and legs intertwining with one another. It was a familiar position, one you and Eddie had shared a million times, but his comforting touch wasn’t working quite the same as it normally did. Not when your heart hurt this much.
Eddie wanted to ask what happened, pester you with questions, and uncover the truth, but he refrained, knowing you’d speak up when the time was right. His heart ached at the feel of your body shaking against his, small sobs springing from deep within your chest no matter how much you wanted them to stop. Eddie only held you tighter, his arms practically crushing your ribs as his own tears began to well in his eyes. You stayed like that for a while, long after the sun fully sank beneath the horizon, leaving the room in complete consuming darkness. The wind caused sapling branches to scrape against the window, becoming the only sound to fill the lingering silence. You stopped crying after a while, wishing you could sleep the pain away, but remaining unsuccessful in your attempts. 
Finally, you gave up, shifting to face Eddie, your forehead pressed to his. Breath intermingling, comforting you, letting you know that, yes, your heart may be broken, but you were still alive. Eddie studied you, unsure whether he should be the first to speak or not, but you quickly quelled that thought when you opened your mouth.
“Do you think you’ll ever leave Hawkins?” your question threw Eddie off, his brows scrunching in confusion. It’s not what he expected you to say. 
“Not unless the band takes off, and certainly not without Wayne,” Eddie had thought about it before, considered moving to a big city where the lights never dimmed and the gigs would never end. But as much as Hawkins may have hated him, he could never hate it in return. He’d get sick of the city noise and never be able to sleep, craving to hear the chirp of crickets and cicadas instead. So when you asked, he was sure of his answer. But he didn’t echo your question back to you, already knowing that your answer would be a resounding yes. It would be tough for you to leave everyone behind, but you longed for something different, somewhere new to help escape the past and finally look forward to the future. Eddie was lost in thought, still wondering why you asked that when you spoke again.
“He’s exactly who I thought he was,” it was a whisper, one that could easily be lost, left hanging in the air with no one around to hear it echo off the peeling walls. But Eddie heard it, he absorbed your words from the silent room, wanting to know more, so you continued. “I thought he was different now, but it turns out he’s still the same, too wrapped up in caring about what others think,” fresh tears sprang in your eyes, a sob tightening your throat as you spoke. “I’m tired of fighting against his undying need to be liked. I’m tired of losing against it every goddamn time. I’m done,” there was a finality to your tone, one that caused Eddie to lift his head from his pillow, a questioning look on his face.
“Sweetheart, do you want me to talk to him? Figure out what’s running through his head?” Eddie offered, but he knew the gesture would be wasted on you. Once you set your mind to it, it was done. But he wanted you to hear Steve out. He wanted you to find a way to reconcile your differences. For all the pain and confusion that Steve Harrington brought, he also filled you with joy and light. You’d been happier throughout the past few weeks than Eddie had ever seen you, illuminating rooms simply by entering them. Eddie didn’t want that to disappear, to be forever obscured by a compilation of closed curtains and avoidant gazes. But he was met with a furious shake of your head.
“No, Eds. I mean it. No more Steve,” Eddie nodded despite the voice in his head yelling at him to speak up and try to change your mind. It was no use. He rolled onto his back, one arm resting under his head, the other still laid across you. You shifted too, laying with your chest pressed to Eddie’s stomach, head resting just below his. “I wish it was you that I loved. It’d be much simpler that way,” you’re not sure why you said it, maybe the cloud that formed in your head from the day’s events expanded, spilling all of your hazy thoughts through your lips. It was a sad wish, an empty hurt with truth behind it. But Eddie understood, his own thoughts reflecting yours, the telepathy finally working in a way. He wanted to take away your pain in any way he could, but not like this. Not when your heart was beaten black and blue, longing for a simple ceasefire to mend your open wounds. Not when that same heart belonged to another, an echoed call through the woods waiting for the birds in the treetops to sing back with an affirmative answer. Eddie loved you, but not in the way the both of you currently wished for. An irrefutable loyalty that would consciously be limited to platonic fellowship, no romance lingering from either party in the way you held each other close.
“I’m sorry, Baby,” Eddie’s whisper slid through the strands of your hair, a soft kiss placed overtop of it. You’d grown quiet by then, breath evening out as you were finally granted your wish for sleep. Falling deep into a slumber where you were still five and Steve Harrington tucked flowers behind your ears as he whispered to you about love.
Days had passed, an endless stream of the same heartache and emptiness that blended each rise and fall of the sun together, making it difficult to distinguish one from the next. Robin called you probably a million times, but you refused to come to the phone. Your parents opted to unplug the phone from the wall for a few days, growing tired of the incessant ringing. You knew she just wanted to talk about Steve, but that was something you couldn’t quite handle yet. You’d only plugged the phone back in to call out of work, letting them know you had a nasty stomach bug, not caring if they believed you or not. The curtains in your room remained closed with the little army men on the window sill replaced in their defensive stance. To you, this was war. 
On the fifth day of refusing to depart from beneath your bed sheets, your mom entered your room, messing with the knick-knacks that covered your dresser as she did. A custom D20 from Dustin, a kazoo Eddie gave you for your birthday one year joking about how you could be Corroded Coffin’s lead kazoo player, a mixtape Robin lent you ages ago, a new pack of colored pencils you’d been meaning to give to Will, and a flower that had been dried and pressed into a glittery bookmark, all littered your dresser’s surface. Your mom grabbed the bookmark, admiring the way the lavender flower retained its shape despite being flattened so many years ago. It was the same lavender that grew from the ground beneath your bedroom window, decorating the grass between the Harrington’s house and your own. You watched closely as she eyed the bookmark, curiosity flooding your thoughts. 
“I remember making this with you,” she spoke softly, a gentle cadence meant to comfort you, and it sort of did. “You came running inside with the flower and insisted that we save it. You said it was too important to let die,” she sat on the edge of your bed, bookmark still glinting in the soft glow of the lamplight. You propped yourself up on your elbows, wondering where she was going with all of this. She handed you the bookmark then, and you took it, confused, examining it as if you’d never seen it before. 
“I don’t remember that,” your voice was hoarse from crying. It didn’t help that you hadn’t properly spoken out loud in days, too congested with the bustling thoughts running laps around your mind.
“You were five. And if I remember correctly a certain boy had been the one to pick the flower for you,” you understood then, she was talking about Steve. Part of you felt betrayed, like your mother was providing aid for the enemy, but the other part of you wanted to know more, why she wanted to talk about this, especially now. “We always assumed the two of you would be friends, lovers even,” she wagged her eyebrows at you and the corners of your lips ticked up at the gesture. “So it was strange to see the distance that grew between you, the pain you caused each other. I’d always hoped you’d resolve your differences, and fall back into the same ease you had as kids, but I know it’s more complicated than that,” her hand reached up, brushing softly against your cheek. You hadn’t realized that you were crying until her fingers swiped over the fallen tears. “I love you, my Baby,” her words were a whisper, gentle lips pressed to your forehead. She patted your leg through your comforter, standing up as she did. On her way to the door, she stopped, turning back to look at you. “Maybe some fresh air might help. A trip to the store?” she suggested and for some reason you nodded, actually thinking that it would be nice to leave your bed for a bit. She smiled, making her way out of your room to grab the grocery list for you. As she rounded the corner, one foot out the door, she couldn’t help but notice the tight grip you kept on the bookmark in your hand. The flower within it that was always in bloom. Something that could never die.
You opted to go to the store alone, wanting to drive with the windows down and the music up, drowning out the overcrowded space in your head. It was nice to leave the house, to be in an open space with autumn in the air. The crisp leaves crunched under your tires as you pulled into the grocery parking lot. You were so concerned about making sure that you had the list your mom gave you that you completely missed the maroon BMW parked on the opposite end of the lot. Once you had the list, you grabbed a cart, its wheels squeaking loudly as you made your way down aisles, grabbing item after item off the shelves.
There was only one thing left on your list, a bag of tortilla chips, which was your dad’s favorite snack food for some odd reason. You almost chuckled to yourself seeing how his scratchy handwriting interrupted your mom’s pristine list. With a squeal of protest from the shopping cart’s wheels, you turned the corner, eyes roaming over the chip options in front of you. You finally found what you were looking for and stood up on your tiptoes, the top shelf being just a bit too high for you to reach. A warmth washed over you as someone leaned into your space, large hands retrieving the bag and offering it to you. Your breath stopped for a moment and you found yourself unable to move.
“I’m just gonna put these in here then,” Steve spoke softly, placing the chip bag into your cart when you froze. He looked tired, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His hair was flat, almost greasy looking, lacking his usual abundance of hairspray and product. Steve watched you, the way you shrunk at the sight of him and he felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest. He never wanted to hurt you, to make you feel less than what you were. And to Steve, you were everything. Steve opened his mouth to speak, an apology sputtering from his lips, but the sight snapped you out of your stupor, suddenly springing to action.
“I told you to stop apologizing to me,” your voice was firm and cold, nothing like the ease it held back at Family Video the last time he tried to right his wrongs. 
“Just let me explain, please,” he pleaded, eyes soft, a glimmer of familiarity in them. For a moment you almost let him, finding yourself more than willing to listen to the boy speak. You were reminded of the comfort you found in the sound of his voice recently, the swell it brought to your chest. But that vanished when you remembered the way he laughed when talking to Allen, his vile words leaving your glass heart shattered across the record store’s stained carpet. It felt like a slap to the face, a cut on your cheek, a crack in your rib. You meant what you said, you were done with him. The boy before you showed no growth. He was still the same boy who called you names, taunted you in the halls, stole your favorite book, and scared off the boys you liked. 
“No,” it was stony and resolute, an end to the conversation. You pushed your cart away, leaving Steve behind, your shadow cascading over him as you did. You made your way to the register and Steve followed close behind. He got in line behind you, but he stayed quiet, unsure what to say. He only had two things in his basket, which made his checkout go by quickly. By the time he got out to the parking lot, you were still there, placing the hefty grocery bags into your trunk.
“Let me make it up to you,” Steve startled you, appearing at your side out of nowhere. “I swear I've changed, I promise. I care about you, so much,” you slammed your trunk closed, wheeling your cart back to where it belonged. Steve followed you, but you stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge his pleas. He stood in front of your car door then, blocking it so you couldn’t get in. “I don’t want to lose you again. Let me show you I care. Let me prove it,” he looked like he was on the verge of tears. Part of you wanted to reach out and hold his face in your hands. The other part wanted to hurt him more, make him feel what you felt. The latter won. 
“You can’t prove shit to me, Harrington. I don’t believe it, any of it. You’re still the same stupid boy you were when we were 11, and I fucking hate you for it,” you spat and Steve’s face hardened. You wanted him to yell back at you, to prove that he felt something for you, something worth fighting for. But he didn’t. He simply stepped aside, a new slump in his posture as he let you go. His gaze followed the battered silhouette of your car as it drove off, a wisp of fallen leaves and Steve’s shredded heart trailing behind it.
When you got home you stormed inside, leaving the groceries in the car for your parents to unload. You fell back into your bed, resuming the same position you held before you went to the grocery store. It took some time, anger encapsulating your every fiber, but eventually, you fell asleep, putting the situation with Steve aside as you escaped to the peace of your dreams. 
You awoke the next morning, groggy and sore. Rolling onto your back, you caught a glimpse of something from the corner of your eye, something that was out of place. Your body groaned as you arose, hesitant steps towards your desk, hands slowly lifting the object. It was a book, but not just any book. It was Pride and Prejudice, the copy that your grandmother gave you years ago, the one that was taken from you. You flipped through the pages, fingers tracing the words you’d penciled in on the margins. Stuck between its pages was a bookmark, your bookmark, with lavender and specks of glitter decorating it. 
You sat back on your bed, wondering why the book was returned so suddenly and out of the blue. Your mom was the one to put it in your room, marking its pages with the bookmark, but Steve had been the one to take it years ago. Why did he keep it? Why give it back now? Was this the end? A bookend in your tumultuous relationship with the boy next door? A post-it note fell from between the book’s pages and you leaned down to grab it. Written in Steve’s messy scrawl was one word. 
“Please.”
And you’d come back to me
           The note was metaphorically stuck in your head, lingering like a bad dream that you couldn’t wake from. It didn’t help that it was physically stuck to your nightstand, its fluorescent green shade haunting you with each passing glance. But you just couldn’t will yourself to throw it away. It was a life preserver tossed to you after falling overboard, a worm on a hook meant to reel you in, a last attempt to fix what had been broken, to reconcile with Steve. You meant it when you said you were done, but the ache inside you longed to be quelled. And there was only one person that could do that. The least you could do was hear him out. Find closure, nothing more, or so you told yourself. 
A few days had passed since your encounter at the grocery store and you finally felt brave enough to face Steve again. You knew he was home given that his car had scarcely left the driveway in the past few days. Your legs felt wobbly, knees knocking as you marched in the dark through your lawn, crossing over onto the Harrington’s property. It was late, but you knew he’d still be awake, just as plagued with his thoughts as you were. You jabbed the doorbell with your finger, waiting nervously for the door to open, to see the boy that plagued your thoughts. But it didn’t. So you rang it again, and again, and again. Repeatedly pressing the button until the door finally cracked open.
“I don’t want whatever you’re selling, man,” Steve began but stopped when he saw you, straightening his slumped shoulders. He looked worse than he had at the grocery store like he hadn’t slept in days. He let the door hang open as he gaped at you, unable to form words. You took advantage of the open space, slipping inside his house before he could stop you. Steve shut the door, turning to see what you were doing, but you’d already made your way upstairs to his room. 
His room was pretty much the same as it had been the last time you were there, back when the world almost ended. Clothes strewn across the floor, trophies lining small shelves, movie posters galore. You noticed a new poster though, one for Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Steve finally caught up to you, his perpetual gloominess temporarily taken over by confusion as to why you were suddenly here in his house. You sat on the edge of his bed and he followed suit, worry filling his entire being. Was this the end? Did you come to say goodbye? Steve’s heart beat rapidly in his chest, panic rising in his throat when you finally spoke.
“You said you wanted to explain, so explain,” your voice was soft and quiet, a tone completely unlike the one you used when you were mad. Steve was baffled, wanting to know what made you decide to hear him out, but he knew better than to waste what very well could be his last chance with you.
“I didn’t mean what I said in the record store. I didn’t mean any of it. I wanted to beat the shit out of Allen when he said that stuff,” Steve’s hands shook as he spoke, watching your face for any sign of emotion. He wanted to know what you were thinking, wished he could read your mind. But he couldn’t, so he continued. “It’s like every time I’m around someone from high school, I get pushed aside and someone else takes control of what I say. Someone that reminds me a lot of my father,” angry tears welled in Steve’s eyes. He hated that after all these years his dad still had such an impact on him and the way he acted.
“Steve,” you spoke up, still emotionless in your tone. But Steve stopped you, wanting to continue, practically begging you with his glassy eyes to let him. So you did.
“I know it's not an excuse, and it's so so shitty of me. But he’s just there in the back of my head reminding me that Harrington’s are winners,” a tear dripped down his cheek and it took a great deal of restraint from you to not reach out and brush it away. “I hate that I let him win. I hate that I ever betrayed your trust, that I was so mean to you in school, that I let you out of my life. I hate that I let Allen get away with what he said, that I agreed with him instead, because I don’t. I think you’re beyond perfect the way you are. I don’t want to change anything about you,” Steve stopped for a moment unsure if you’d let him continue. Little did he know that your breath had caught in your chest and extinguished any words that might have spilled from your lips.
“I never ever want to hurt you again,” Steve continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise, I won’t. I want to be better, I want to be the boy you trusted when we were kids. I care about you so unbelievably much. I never stopped, not once. Please let me prove it,” he’d moved closer to you and you let him, trying your best to keep your feelings hidden from your expression. You were close to breaking, to giving in, to letting yourself be unequivocally in love with Steve Harrington. But you still had to put up a fight, to prove it was the right choice, not just a never-ending loop of pain.
“I’ve given you so many chances, Steve. How do I know this one would be any different?” you couldn’t look at him, knowing you’d lose all your resolve if you did. So your eyes fell to your lap instead. Steve watched your avoidant gaze, wanting more than anything for you to face him.
“Because I love you,” it was firm and unwavering, a declaration spilled from Steve’s cracked lips. It snapped your attention to him immediately, granting Steve his previous wish. “I always have, even when we were kids. I got confused when popularity came into play, but it was still there, in the back of my mind. I didn’t know what it was then, but I do now, and I’ll do anything for you, anything to keep you with me,” Steve grew shy, still unable to tell how you feel. “I want you in any way that you’ll have me. Anything is fine with me as long as I have you back in my life. I just can’t lose you,” Steve finished, leaving his words in the air for you to respond. You took your time to collect your own thoughts, to steady the thump of your heart in your chest.
“Steve,” it was soft, gentle, longing, matching the tone Steve hoped to hear. “I don’t want to lose you either,” the words halted Steve’s heart in his chest. He hoped this was it, that you loved him the way he loved you. “I want to trust you again, but you have to earn it. We can't just keep hurting each other,” you asserted and Steve nodded wildly. You wanted to laugh at the way his hair flopped around on his head as he did it, but you refrained, simply letting a smile crest your lips instead. Steve’s lips matched yours, curling at the edges, and soon you found yourselves incapable of holding back the soft chuckles that rose in your throat.
Steve’s eyes never left you, admiring the smile he’d so dearly missed seeing. He only ever wanted for you to be happy, only wanted you to know you’re loved. And from here on out, he’d make sure that you were. You leaned forward resting your forehead against Steve’s, one last ditch attempt at your silly determination to communicate telepathically. It never worked with Eddie, so why not try it with Steve, the boy you loved since you were five. It would ease the tension, tell Steve what your lips were too scared to say.
“What am I thinking?” you asked, hands coming up to hold Steve’s shoulders in place. His hands wrapped around you, resting on your waist, feeling your scarred skin through the thin material of your shirt. Steve scoured his mind, focusing on you, the soft reflection of light in your eyes, the way your lips were dry and cracked, the curve of your cheekbones. You were more than beautiful to him, you were angelic, bewitching, radiant. You were everything he ever wanted and needed.
“That you like me too?” Steve put on his smug charm, trying to cover up his nervousness. It made you want to laugh, to kiss him, to tell him the truth.
“So close, Stevie. I was thinking more along the lines of love, but if that’s what you’re getting then, sure, we can go with that,” you shrugged jovially, a smile stretched across your cheeks as Steve’s jaw went slack. His eyes watched you for any sign of doubt, of mockery, but he couldn’t find any. He knew it then, you loved him too. Steve found your gaze, eyes whispering to him in their own secret language. Kiss me, they said, and who was he to deny them of their wish? Steve pulled you in, grip tightening on your waist as he did. Your chest was suddenly flush with his, your body now resting in his lap, lips only a breath away from meeting. It was a last chance to bow out, to give it up for good, but you didn’t want to. You tilted your chin, finally closing the gap and brushing your lips against Steve’s. The kiss was encompassed by every flower he’d ever picked for you, every peek behind closed curtains, every taunt and tease and fight, every innuendo, every unseen longing gaze, every utterance of the name Baby, all wrapped together. It felt like winning a game of hide-and-seek that had been called off after an hour of unsuccessful searching, a ring of smoke clinging to the air and lingering high only to be dissipated by the summer breeze, a ceasefire on the battlefield for a war that had gone on too long. It felt like Steve, and you couldn’t get enough of it. His lips danced with yours, never wanting to feel anything but the crush of you against him. But eventually, you ran out of air, pulling back enough to breathe, still keeping your forehead pressed to his.
“I think I knew you loved me because I always loved you too,” Steve’s words were breathy, softened with the heave of his chest. Your smile flashed through your heavy breaths and hot cheeks. Steve Harrington loved you, and you loved him too. It would take some getting used to, but you liked the sound of it. You couldn’t hold back any longer, leaning back in to reattach your lips to his. 
A moan mixed in with the kiss, grumbling up from Steve’s throat. His hands shifted down past your waist, landing on your ass with a light squeeze. You laughed at the gesture, keeping your lips pressed against his, and Steve’s heart melted at the sound. But he didn’t have long to linger on the feeling, because your hips rolled against his crotch, catching him off guard. Steve’s mouth opened a bit at the feeling, eliciting a groan from deep within him. You took advantage of the opportunity and slid your tongue against Steve’s. You did the move that you always did, a roll of your tongue against his, and Steve’s fingers dug deeper into your skin.
“Fuck, is that the tongue thing that Hargrove was talking about?” Steve asked, pulling away for just a second before attaching his lips to the column of your neck. 
“I don’t want to talk about Billy right now, okay?” you gasped as Steve’s teeth bit into the sensitive spot on your neck. You felt heat flush straight to your core and a whimper slipped from your lips. Steve was mesmerized, enthralled with the sweet sounds you made and the way your breaths picked up.
“Noted,” Steve spoke against your neck, sending vibrations down your spine. He worked his way back up to your lips, hand trailing under your shirt. You flinched when his hand brushed your scar, his cool fingers causing goosebumps to prickle your skin. You always had to lie to your hookups about where the scars came from, but you didn’t need to with Steve. He knew you. He had matching wounds. Steve pulled away, worried about the way you shuddered when he came into contact with the healed skin. But you just lifted your arms above your head, signaling for Steve to remove your shirt. The soft fabric slid from your skin, leaving your chest exposed. You’d foregone a bra that morning, and given the entranced look on Steve’s face at the sight of your bare breasts, you were really glad that you did. His hands gravitated towards your chest, cupping it gently. Steve’s thumbs came to rest on your nipples, brushing back and forth over them, evoking a delicious moan from your lips.
His mouth found yours again, and you couldn’t help the way your hips began to grind against his, craving friction to satisfy the heat pooling between your legs. You removed Steve’s shirt then, and instead of resuming his previous position, Steve tilted his head down, attaching his lips to one of your nipples. You couldn’t help the pleasure that coursed through your veins, grinding harder against Steve’s lap. He was hard beneath his sweatpants, and his length caught against your clit with each movement, only further riling you up. Soft moans fell from both of your lips in harmony until Steve’s mouth departed from your chest, shifting to lay you down with his body hovering over you. His lips were swollen and red, wet with his saliva as he gazed down at you. He looked at you with a hunger that he’d suppressed for far too long as his hands trailed down your stomach, slowly pulling down the sweatpants that rested on your hips. You lifted your bum, making it easier for Steve to take them off. Once your pants were discarded on the floor, Steve’s face shifted down, hovering over your clothed cunt. 
“You don’t have to,” you spoke quietly, suddenly seeming shy and so drastically different from the girl who just rolled her tongue into Steve’s mouth.
“Trust me, Baby, I want to. I want to so fucking bad, have for a long time,” Steve’s eyes found yours, but he didn’t move from his spot between your thighs. His breath fanned over your skin, only adding more heat between your legs. He placed small kisses on your inner thighs and your back arched at the sensation. Steve truly had waited a long time to do this, thought about it late at night while his hand fisted his cock, so he was going to savor every second. His fingers dragged over your panties, drawing little stars over the material. You threw your head back, unable to contain yourself as a result of Steve’s teasing.
“Please Stevie, need you so bad,” you begged, breath coming out ragged and labored. Steve smirked up at you, finally hooking his fingers into the cotton material and yanking them off. He lowered himself further, breath now fanning over your exposed heat. Steve wasted no time, licking into your cunt, flexing his tongue with each flick back and forth through your wet folds. You gasped as he held down your thighs, holding them tightly around his head. His tongue was persistent, like a starved man eating for the first time in days. Steve’s hips rutted against the mattress, so turned on by the noises you made, the way you tasted, how you felt against his tongue. It got to a point where you could hardly keep still, squirming wildly beneath Steve’s steel grip, and he knew you were close.
His mouth came up to your clit, sucking it with enough force to make you whine out his name. He could come at just the sounds you made, but he held back, keeping his focus on your core and the shake that slowly began in your thighs. The coil that had been building in the pit of your stomach snapped, a wave of pleasure flooding through you. Steve lapped at your folds, capturing the last of your arousal on his tongue as you came down from your high, chest heaving and thighs quaking.
“Fuck, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Steve ran a hand through his hair, shifting up to place a kiss to your lips. You tasted yourself on him, a whimper escaping you in response. Without breaking the kiss, your hands came down, fumbling to rid Steve of his sweatpants, but he stopped you. 
“I wanna return the favor, Stevie. Wanna make you feel good too,” you spoke between kisses and Steve pulled away, hastily shaking his head. 
“You do that now and it’ll be all over. I’d rather come inside you, Baby,” Steve's eyes asked you for permission, wanting more than anything to be buried inside you. You understood what he meant and nodded eagerly, the idea reigniting the heat between your thighs. Steve got up quickly, pulling his pants from his legs. You repositioned yourself, now on your hands and knees, facing away from Steve. He kneeled on the bed behind you, one hand smoothing over the curve of your ass, gently finding its resting place on your waist. His lips placed a quick kiss to your spine as he took his length in his hand. He pumped himself a few times before lining up with your entrance, slowly pushing in with a wrecked moan. Your walls stretched around him, squeezing his length as he bottomed out. You couldn’t help the faint pants that fell from your lips at the feel of being so full. 
“Fuck, Steve, so big,” you whined, arms weakly holding you in place. He chuckled behind you, trying to keep from blowing his load right then and there. You were so tight, your walls surrounding him perfectly. He slowly started to move, pulling his hips out gently and pushing himself back in. Steve was practically growling at the sensation of your walls clasped so close around him. As you both adjusted, Steve sped up, his hips bouncing quickly off the curve of your ass. It was hot and wet, hard and deep, the sound of skin slapping together filled the room. 
“Taking me so good, Baby. Wanna hear those pretty sounds. Making ‘em just for me, right?” Steve’s breath was labored, trying hard to hold on as his fingers dug into your hips. You complied with Steve’s request, letting your stifled whimpers echo throughout the room. Steve pulled you up then, your back pressed to his front as your ass bounced off his thighs. He thrusted up into you and his hands came up to fondle your breasts. “Tell me you’re close, Baby. I can’t hold on much longer,” he muttered in your ear, ending his statement with another shaky groan. You nodded, the back of your head moving against his shoulder as you did. He quickened his pace then, using every last ounce of reserve that he had to pound into you, bodies pressing together. Your face scrunched in pleasure and Steve’s followed, both of you toeing the edge of blinding pleasure. 
“Fuck, Stevie. Love you so much,” you moaned through ragged breaths, hand coming behind his head in an attempt to pull his lips to yours. The words you spoke and the crash of your lips against his had Steve coming undone. His hot streams of cum coated the inside of your walls, triggering your own high, cries of Steve’s name muffled by the taste of his swollen lips. You sunk back down onto his lap as he finally ceased his movements, resting on the back of his heels, still buried deep within you. His eyes met your soft gaze and he couldn’t help the uptick of his lips. You loved him and that’s all that mattered to him now.
The two of you cleaned yourselves up, slowly redressing to various degrees. Steve pulled on the boxers that were lost in his sweatpants while you draped your oversized shirt back over your frame. You gave up on trying to find your panties, accepting that they were now lost in the mess of Steve’s cluttered bedroom floor. You fell back into bed with Steve, rolling on your side to face him, the bed sheets draped over you. Steve’s legs brushed against yours, slowly intertwining until one of your legs rested between both of his. You caught sight of a cherry stem resting on his nightstand, one that had been tied in a knot, and held back your teasing remarks about him keeping it. Steve studied you, wanting to memorize this moment, each feature of your face. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up to the sight of your soft, pleasant smile as you watched over him in the same way he did to you. Eventually, Steve’s lids grew heavy, fluttering closed as he drifted off to sleep, you not far behind.
When you woke in the morning, you were still tangled together, radiating heat off one another to fill the otherwise cold morning air. You nestled your head into Steve’s bare chest, a soft groan slipping from him as he awoke. Neither of you wanted to get up, face the morning, and separate after a night together. The only reason you eventually did get up was because Steve had to go to work and you were sure your parents would notice your absence soon.
You went downstairs before him, waiting for him to find his car keys in the mess of his room. You shared a kiss on his doorstep, fingers tangling in Steve’s hair as he pulled your hips flush with his. A whine escaped you as he pulled away, leaning down to pluck a daisy from his mom’s well-manicured front garden. Steve tucked the daisy behind your ear, placing one last kiss to your lips before walking over to his car. He opened his car door, stopping for another glimpse of you before he left. You smiled at him, waving him off and watching as he backed out of the driveway. He blew you a kiss before putting the car in drive and pulling away. You held the kiss close to your heart, the heart that now belonged to him, and headed back across his lawn to your own house.
The smell of coffee wafted through the air as you shut the front door behind you. Your parents sat at the kitchen table, a newspaper between them and a cup of coffee each. You drifted into the kitchen, ignoring their questioning looks, and plugged the phone back into the wall. Your parents shared a silent look, a look of relief that the storm was over, that normalcy would soon resume. 
You went upstairs then, entering your bedroom and pulling back the curtains that encompassed your window. You planned to leave a note for Steve stuck to the glass, the same way you used to when you were kids, one for him to find when he got back home from work. But when your eyes drifted to the window across from yours, you were met with confusion.
In place of the army of green men that once sat on the window sill was a pencil with a half sheet of white paper attached to it. A white flag. Steve surrendered, and the war was over. You smiled at the gesture before crafting your own flag to mirror the one across from you. It would be a truce then, breaking even and giving up the fight. The ache in your chest was quelled and replaced by an unfathomable warmth. There were no winners or losers anymore. There was just you and Steve, two lovers that took way too long to figure it out. 
You would call Eddie and Robin later to explain the previous night’s events, but for now, you sat back on your bed, Pride and Prejudice clasped in your hands. You opened the cover, eyes landing on the bookmark between its pages, mind drifting off to the boy that picked you flowers and told you he loved you so long ago. Maybe you knew him all along. Maybe he wasn’t so different after all.
You put me on and said I was your favorite
The summer sun beat down on Steve’s tanned skin, sweat dripping from his brow, making a trail down his neck to the collar of his t-shirt. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, wishing to escape Hawkins’ summer heat. With a deep breath, Steve leaned down to grab the box at his feet, hoisting it up to hand to you. You stood in the back of a U-Haul, organizing the boxes that were handed to you. Your very sweaty boyfriend flashed you a smile before turning to go back into his house and grab more boxes.
“You guys couldn’t have picked a hotter day to move,” Eddie appeared in front of you, unruly curls stuck to his forehead and neck. You’d offered him a hair tie earlier, but he declined, now stuck suffering in the humid air. His arms were strained with the weight of the box he was carrying, clearly struggling more than Steve had been.
“Sorry, Eds. We can’t control the weather,” you took the box that he had brought out, placing it somewhere behind you in the truck. You brushed away the sweat that had formed above your lip and watched as Eddie shook his head.
“I can’t believe you guys are actually leaving,” a sad smile stretched his lips as he spoke. He knew that it would happen eventually, that you would leave behind this horror story of a town and start anew. You’d suffered more Upside Down related trauma than he had, and he knew the fears that still crept into your mind from time to time. It was a good change, even if it meant leaving the people you loved behind.
“Me too, honestly,” you looked up then, head snapping towards the sound of voices arguing in the distance. Steve and Dustin were on Steve’s front porch loudly talking back and forth about how to move Steve’s dresser from his room. Robin stood next to them, rolling her eyes and dragging Max towards your house to grab the last of your book collection. “I’m glad it's with him though,” you nodded your head towards Steve, who was still deep in his discussion with Dustin, wild hand gestures and all. Steve caught you gazing at him from the corner of his eye, shooting you a look that said ‘this kid is crazy’ before disappearing into the house, Dustin hot on his trail. 
“Yeah, yeah, you guys are in love or whatever. We get it,” Mike appeared at Eddie’s side, his slim arms struggling to carry his box. You raised a brow at him, lifting the box from his arms with ease and he faced you with an unamused glare. 
“I think it's sweet,” Will approached behind him, also unloading a box into your arms. He smiled at you sweetly, and suddenly it hit you how much you were going to miss all of them. The bickering and the fights, the tight hugs and reassurances that they would call to let you know they got home safe. The late nights spent overanalyzing every detail of some cheesy movie that you’d forget the plot of by the morning. And in the background of it all was Steve. His forlorn gaze as Nancy walked you down her driveway to your car. His open curtains waiting for your lights to flicker on when you got back from work. His grand gestures as he put himself in harm's way, trying to protect you. You pretended to hate each other, but now you know that you never really did. 
The afternoon dragged on, the heat weighing heavy on everyone as boxes and furniture were piled into the truck. Eventually, you all finished and everything you owned was packed away. Steve grabbed a quick shower, rinsing the sweat from his body to make the long car ride more comfortable. You hugged your parents goodbye, urging them to come visit once everything was unpacked. The others still lingered, waiting to watch as you and Steve drove away. Tears filled their eyes and streamed down sweaty cheeks as you hugged each of the younger kids, promising to return for Thanksgiving. 
Steve began his round of goodbyes, mainly opting for a secret handshake or a ruffling of hair. Robin squeezed you so tightly that you thought she might crack one of your ribs. She sniffled as she pulled away, moving on to give Steve the same crushing embrace. Eddie stood before you, his head tilted towards the ground. You brushed his hair back from his face, catching sight of his tear-stained cheeks. He pulled you close, arms encompassing your frame. 
“You’ll call every week?” he spoke into your hair, burying his face in it to hide his swell of tears. You nodded against him, your own muffled cries slipping from your lips. He pulled back then, and Steve was right behind you.
Steve placed his hand on your back, guiding you to the front seat of the U-Haul. He said his goodbye to Eddie before joining you. Steve’s car was hooked up to the back of the truck and your parents planned to bring yours up with them when they came to visit.
You stood on the ledge of the truck admiring the sea of your friends that stood before you. They watched you with tearful eyes as you shot them one last watery smile and slid into your seat. Your gaze was pulled towards the side of your house, your bedroom window that sat across from Steve’s. It was funny to think how close he always was, even when he felt miles away. Steve’s hand brushed yours then, the tingle of skin pulling you from your thoughts.
“Ready to go, Baby?” Steve asked, reaching down to put the truck in gear. His hair was still wet, smelling of his lavender-scented shampoo. You ran your hands through it, brushing the loose strands to the side. Steve caught your hand, placing a small kiss on your palm before you could pull away. 
Sixth grade Steve was right, you were leaving with your things packed into boxes and a new city calling your name. But not because you were the worm girl that was running away. It wasn’t because this town had terrorized and taunted you to the point of no return. You were leaving because you wanted to, not because you felt forced out. And sixth grade Steve was wrong about you finding the love of your life once you left too, because you’d already found him, and for that Steve couldn’t be happier.
“With you?” you questioned, eyebrows raised, hand still encompassed by Steve’s. He nodded, showing you that smile that he reserved just for you. The same one he gave you as you sat on the sidewalk with dried worms newly relocated to the surrounding grass. You mirrored his look, gazing into his hazel eyes with all the love and adoration you had acquired for him over the years. “Always.”
2K notes · View notes
ptolemaeacles · 9 months
Note
pls write more for hazel omg i loved the cheerleader hcs maybe like a childhood best friends to lovers so lots of pining and smut maybe
♡ you belong with me
pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader
synopsis: hazel has had a crush on her best friend since they met in the 1st grade. they were freshman in college now and hazel realizes she can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore.
warnings: 18+ minors dni (both reader and hazel are 18), smut, childhood best friends to lovers, switch!hazel, switch!reader, top!reader, bottom!hazel (no pun intended), let me know if i missed anything!!
notes: aw thank you !!! im glad you liked the hcs. also small disclaimer, i'm a horrid smut writer and i rushed the ending because i didn't want to keep you waiting. hope you like !!!
word count: 2.5k
“god, i’m so excited. i mean this is the first time a girl has asked me out. usually it’s guys who approach me and then i get weird comments when i tell them i like women…” you rambled on but hazel could barely focus. she could only feel the empty pit in her stomach. 
you were so happy to be going on a date and all she could think about is if you would ever be this excited to go on a date with her. she tried to convince you to not go but there was only so much she could do without giving her feelings away. 
hazel thinks she’s loved you since the day she met you. before she knew what ‘love’ meant or what it looked like, she loved you. to her, you were the very definition of that word. 
hazel’s hopeless crush started in the 1st grade. it wasn’t some cute interaction where one of you saved the other from a bully or something. it was simple with the both of you. it always has been. 
you came up to her during lunch and told her you would give her half of your sandwich if she agreed to be your friend.
“what kind of sandwich is it?” hazel asked, from her seat on the lunch table.
“peanut butter and strawberry jelly.” 
“i’m allergic to strawberries.”.
“then don’t eat it and just be my friend.” you sat next to her without another word and the both of you left it like that. simple.
since then, she knew she would never escape you. and she never wanted to. but right now, she felt like if you didn’t stop talking to her about this date, her head would explode. 
hazel watched you walk around your room, shuffling through your closet for an outfit to the movies with the girl who asked you out. she never bothered remembering the girl’s name because she thinks it would the whole situation worse for her. she didn’t want to know anything about that girl.
“...and she said we’ll get ice cream later which i hope-” hazel interrupted you.
“hey, i think i should get home. my mom’s probably wondering where i am and shit, so… i’ll see you later.” hazel wanted to get away as soon as possible. not from you but from the giddiness she could practically feel radiating off your body at the thought of your date. 
“oh.. i thought you told your mom that you were going to study at my place after classes?” you questioned. hazel’s quiet behavior didn’t go unnoticed by you. she was always quiet but after more than 10 years of friendship, you could tell which silences were good and which weren’t. this definitely wasn’t a good one.
“yeah well, we aren’t studying so. i’d better get going, bye.” she spoke in a flat tone, with her head down, as she grabbed her backpack and made her way out of your room.
you stood still, staring at the open door of your room and wondering if you had done something.
Tumblr media
hazel walked into her house, red in the face and a vicious grip on the doorknob. she ran up to her room, and threw her backpack in a random corner, probably knocking her guitar down. but her guitar was the last thing on her mind. 
she was pissed at you. mostly herself but you as well. she knew she had no right to be angry at you but how could you never see that hazel was right there. she was right in front of you, waiting for you to even glance in her direction. it’s all she wanted. to be the one who makes you laugh, the one who you’d think of when you saw romantic tiktok slideshows, the one who took you out on rollerblading dates, the one who got to kiss you before dropping you off back to your house, the one who got to slide her hand up your skirt, the one who got to be in between your legs-
she groaned and loudly, flopping onto her bed and stuffing her face in her pillow. she needed to apologize before her stupid feelings ruined your friendship.
Tumblr media
hazel had a plan. she was going to go to your house after your date and apologize. apologize for being a dick, apologize for falling in love with you, apologize for every and anything she could apologize for so that you wouldn't hate her. she expected you to yell at her or ask her what was wrong with her. what she didn't expect was you to be calling her phone, right now.
she pressed the green 'accept' button and put the phone up to her ear.
"haze.." she could hear you sniffling through the phone, "i-, uh, can i come over, please? my date- it just- it went horribly and i really want to see you. please." hazel felt her heart drop 10 stories.
"yeah, yeah, i'll come pick you up, angel, where are you?" she questioned.
"outside your house."
hazel ran down the stairs and opened her front door, to be met with your red eyes and puffy face.
you immediately wrapped your arms around hazel, burying your face in her chest. her hands went landed themselves in your hair, stroking it gently in an attempt to comfort.
hazel helped you into her room, setting you down on her bed.
"do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.
"she- she, um, she stood me up." you could barely get a sentence out without hiccuping. hazel reached over to her nightstand and pulled out an unopened water bottle, unscrewing the cap and handed it to you.
you whispered a thank you and took a few sips. it was hazel's turn to speak now.
"fuck her," you give her a confused look, "oh no, not fuck her, don't do that, i meant that you should just forget about her. she obviously isn't the one for you if she stood you up, and there are so many other people in the world-"
"hazel."
"yes?"
you didn't waste anymore time. you grabbed hazel's face in your hands and crashed your lips into hers.
hazel was sure this was a dream. there was no way you were kissing her right now. she definitely fell asleep and she's imagining this whole thing.
while hazel was having her loser lesbian crisis, you noticed that the kiss wasn't being reciprocated.
'fuck.' you thought. you just ruined your closest and longest friendship. you pulled away from her.
"shit, haze, i didn't mean to do that, i'm not sure what i was thinking-" you started but were quickly shut up when hazel pulled you back in for another kiss.
relief flooded your body. she wanted this. both of you wanted this.
hazel felt you smile into the kiss and took that as her 'go ahead'. she tilted her head, deepening the kiss. shyly, she moved her hand from her lap to your waist. you moved one of your hands to the side of her neck and the other in her hair. you could practically feel her pulse beating rapidly under your palm.
hazel gained a newfound confidence and pushed you back onto her bed, slotting herself between your legs. her lips hovered over your neck before attacking your neck with sloppy kisses. her lips trailed down your neck, making sure to savor the taste of you. her lips met the fabric of your blouse.
"can i take this off, please?" she asked in a breathy manner, as if she had just ran a marathon. you nodded, at a loss for words.
“need to hear you say it, baby. need to know you want it just as bad as i do.” hazel wasn’t aware how raspy her voice was, as if she hadn’t drank water in days. 
“take it off, haze, please. take it all off.” you whispered and caught her lips with yours while she lifted your top off your body. once she had your top thrown in a random corner in her room, she went straight for your pants, not even bothering to take her own clothes off. 
“fuck, hazel,” you were breathless, “i want to see you, too.” you swallowed, gripping the beige button up she was wearing, hoping she knew what you meant.
“you will, princess, don’t worry. i just want to focus on you right now, okay?” you nodded, not fully sure what ‘focusing on you’ meant.
hazel had you in just your bra and underwear, her eyes scanned your body hungrily. if this was a dream, she prayed she remembered every single moment when she woke up. you were better than any fantasy she could conjure up on those lonely nights, when she couldn't think of anything but you. 
you felt her strong gaze settle on your body and you felt self conscious thoughts take the forefront of your mind. you raised your hands over your body, starting to think hazel didn’t want you like you wanted her.
“hey,” hazel grabbed your hands and gently pushed them to your sides, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted you like this. how many nights i’ve stayed up thinking about you.” hazel started kissing down your neck, making her way to your chest. 
she pulled your bra down, not even bothering to fully unhook it before latching her tongue down onto your right nipple. 
the wet feeling of her mouth made you cry aloud, completely forgetting her mom (and jeff, too, probably) were a few feet down the hall.
hazel lifted her mouth of your tit with a pop, moving her hand to squeeze it instead.
“i’d love to hear you, angel, but i need you to be quiet,” she feverishly pecked your lips, “just tonight, hm?” you murmured a response, more concerned with the ache between your thighs than anything else. 
you guessed hazel read your mind or something, as she started moving down the bed towards the place on your body that needed the most attention. she looked up to you, as if asking once more, if this was what you really wanted. 
“haze, please.” you whined. that was all the confirmation she needed. she slid your panties down slowly, watching a string of wetness connect your pussy and your underwear. hazel felt herself growing wet at the fact that she did this to you. it filled her with a new sense of confidence. she didn’t even wait for your panties to completely slip off your legs before diving in between your thighs.
your back arched off the bed the moment you felt hazel’s tongue make contact with your swollen bud. she slipped her wet muscle throughout your folds, desperate to catch every single drop of wetness she could.
“fuck, haze, feels really fucking good.” you moaned and brought your hand to the back of her head, gripping her hair between your fingers in ecstasy. 
she hummed in response to the praise you were giving her, sending vibrations throughout your core that nearly made you choke. hazel continued to suck on your clit, holding your thighs apart with her hands hooked under your knees. she slid her face side to side with her tongue flat against your pussy, moving your clit with just the right amount of pressure. 
you felt a pressure building in your lower belly and tried to move hazel’s face closer to your mound to chase your release. 
and she stopped. 
you lifted your head from the pillow and stared at her kissing your thighs, before going to unbuckle her own pants. 
“wait hazel,” you put your hands on top of her jean button, “can i?” you spoke so quietly, hazel barely caught what you were saying. she nodded her head, unsure of what else to do.
you gently unbuttoned her jeans before sliding them and her boxers down and allowing hazel to step out of them. you lifted her button up over her head and unclasped her bra, letting them fall onto the space on the floor next to her. she was in awe of you. you were so gentle to her and she would never believe she deserved it, even if you reminded her of it everyday for the rest of her life. 
once she stood completely naked in front of you, you led her to lay down on bed, stomach facing up, before separating her legs and hooking one of your own over hers. 
you looked at her face for any sign of discomfort, only to be met with the rapid rise and fall of hazel’s chest and her eyes shut in euphoria. 
“hazel,” you caught her attention, she stared right at you, “keep your eyes on me.” you lowered yourself gently, placing your clit right on top of hers. both of you let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of your juices mixing with the others.
placing your hands on her stomach, you moved slowly, rocking your hips back and forth against hers. hazel struggled to keep her eyes open, getting lost in the pleasure you were giving her. she always thought of moments exactly like this and imagined it being a lot different. she imagined that she would be the one on top of you, taking charge and pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. but after feeling the movement of your hips against hers and the way your breasts bounced slightly when you would pick up your pace. hazel fought her hardest to keep her eyelids from drooping. she didn’t want to miss a single move you made.
you quickly found a steady rhythm and went faster, prompting hazel to cry out. you leaned down and caught her moans in a rough kiss. 
the familiar coil in your belly seemed to get tighter and tighter. hazel must’ve noticed the way your hips started to rock faster and knew you were about to cum.
“c’mon, cum for me, baby. give it to me, i’m almost there too,” she started rambling as she felt her orgasm approach her as well, “keep going, just a bit faster, angel.” both of you fought to keep your moans from being heard from anyone else in the house.
“fuck hazel, i’m cumming, i-” you were cut off as your orgasm hit you in waves. warmth spread throughout your body, making your limbs weak and causing your legs to nearly give out. 
you kept going, over stimulating yourself, trying to get hazel to reach her orgasm. by the looks of it, she was on the edge. her baby hairs stuck to her sweaty forehead, her face scrunched up in pleasure as her back arched into the air. 
“fuck fuck fuck fuck-” she rambled as her orgasm washed over her, quickly quieted by your mouth capturing hers. 
the both of you gently rode out your releases, breathless and sweaty. you carefully lifted yourself off of hazel and laid next to her on the bed. 
“we should talk about this, you know.” hazel started.
“we will. in the morning, i promise. for now, i just want to be with you.” that seemed to be enough for hazel.
you draped your arm over her waist, pulling her closer to you. she tucked her head in the crook of your neck and the both of you drifted off to sleep.
2K notes · View notes
charlesslut16 · 5 months
Text
-Pregnant christmas-
summary : you and lando visit his family pregnant...
PAIRING : lando norris x fem!reader
WARNINGS : none
note : i am so sorry that i didn't post for two days but i had so much to do with collage that i ahd no time to update.
december masterlist ; masterlist 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You stepped out of the car, the crisp winter air biting at your cheeks as you and Lando arrived at his family's home for Christmas. The air was filled with the scent of pine and anticipation, a light blanket of snow covering the ground, making everything seem like a scene from a holiday card.
The crisp winter air carried the scent of pine and cinnamon as Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver, and you, his radiant wife, made your way to Lando's family home for a magical Christmas reunion.
With beautiful snowflakes dancing around you, you approached the door adorned with lights, nestled amidst a snowy landscape, adorned with twinkling lights and wreaths.
Lando squeezed your hand gently as you walked up the front steps, his smile warm and infectious. He was excited to introduce you as his wife and share this special time with his family, especially with a little one on the way.
The house was adorned with twinkling lights, a magnificent tree standing proudly in the corner, adorned with colorful ornaments and tinsel.
Laughter echoed through the halls, and you were immediately enveloped in a flurry of hugs and greetings from Lando's family.
As you entered the cozy home of the Norris family, the warmth of festive cheer enveloped the two of you. Lando's family greeted you with open arms and infectious enthusiasm.
His mom, a bundle of joy and warmth, enveloped you in a tight hug, her eyes shining with happiness.
"Welcome, both of you! Oh, look at that bump," she exclaimed, gently placing a hand on your growing belly, a gesture that made Lando beam with pride. His mother adored you.
Your pregnancy bump, adorned with a festive ribbon, was immediately ushered to the comfiest armchair by Lando's mom, who insisted she would take it easy while the others bustled around, preparing a lavish Christmas feast.
The day was a whirlwind of festive activities. Lando's nieces and nephews eagerly showed you their handmade decorations, each one proudly displaying their artistic skills.
Lando, ever the mischievous one, snuck behind you and whispered silly jokes in your ear, making you burst into fits of laughter. He could be serious if he wanted to be, but you liked him better this way.
Amidst the joyful chaos, you found yourselves in the cozy kitchen, where Lando's dad, an expert in culinary delights, was concocting his famous Christmas dinner.
The aromas of roasting turkey and spices filled the air, and you couldn't resist stealing a bite of the freshly baked cookies cooling on the counter, you were allowed, I mean you were pregnant.
As the day drifted into evening, everyone gathered around the fireplace, cups of hot cocoa in hand. Lando's sister, armed with a guitar, led the family in singing classic Christmas carols.
Lando, ever the enthusiast, joined in, his voice blending harmoniously with the melodies, eliciting smiles and applause from everyone. He truly was an angel, your angel.
Later, you found a quiet moment with Lando by the glowing tree, the twinkling lights casting a magical aura around you both. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and whispered,
"This is perfect, isn't it? Spending Christmas with you and our little one on the way."
You nodded, feeling a surge of emotion as you rested your head against his chest.
"Absolutely perfect," you whispered back, your heart swelling with love for this man and the family you were becoming a part of.
The evening ended with exchanging heartfelt gifts, laughter, and embraces. Lando's mom pulled you aside, handing you a beautifully wrapped box.
"For the little one," she said with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
It was a beautiful little necklace with Norris been standing on it. You knew that either bean would be a girl or a boy, she or he would appreciate and love the lovely gift.
As you and Lando drove back home, the moon lighting the snow-covered landscape, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and happiness.
"I love you, Lan. I hope that we can spend a thousand more Christmas together."
"I love you, angel."
"And I love you, bean," Lando added and gave your bump a little kiss, as he stood at a red traffic light.
The day had been filled with love, warmth, and the promise of new beginnings. And as you both nestled into each other's arms, you knew that this Christmas would be a cherished memory forever etched in your hearts.
991 notes · View notes
bambikisss · 1 month
Text
When at Coachella :: Song Mingi
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lead Guitarist! Mingi x Singer! Reader (ft Manager!Yeosang)
🎶: Rude boy - Rihanna, Slow Down - Chase Atlantic, Mamacita - Chase Atlantic
📙: You and your band are on a sold out tour when you decide to make a pit stop at Coachella to perform, the performance being as hot as possible, leading to a night between you and your guitarist boyfriend, Song Mingi.
⚠: Unprotected sex (always wrap it up), accepting alcohol from a fan, public sex, Voyeurism (ft Yeosang), 69, talk about becoming an adult entertainer
Bambi's notes: I'm back! I recently watched Coachella and loved how Mingi looked and acted, so I used it as inspiration. I also realized that I haven't done anything with our Yeosang yet, so I thought this is how I introduce him to my writings lol. There also may be a part two for this 👀
REBLOGS + COMMENTS ARE WELCOMED AND ENCOURAGED
"Showtime in 10 minutes, everyone make sure you are ready!"
You could hear the roar of the crowd from your dressing room backstage, smirking as you heard the chants for you as you put on your lip gloss in the mirror.
Due to popular demand, you were to headline Coachella for the first time, being the reason for the surge in ticket sales. You were a very popular singer, you and your band are currently on a sold-out tour, making a pit stop at the festival for the night.
"You always look so good when you're like that."
Your smirk only grew as the door closed behind your guitarist, the click from locking the door echoing in the room as he approached you. You didn't move, allowing his hands to rest on your hips before slowly moving down to your skirt, his thumbs grazing the bottom of your ass. You were bent over the vanity, your hands moving to support you against the mirror as the man behind you licked his lips, pressing his body against yours as he played with the fabric of your skirt. You knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted to do a lot more than touch it, his eyes moving up your back slowly to meet your eyes in the mirror with a smirk of his own.
"Don't you know that you're not allowed in here, Mingi? Yeosang is going to get upset that you're in here after he banned you from being alone with me before performances."
"Who gives a fuck what stick up his ass Yeosang has to say about me seeing my sexy girlfriend?" Mingi scoffed, his hands slowly pushing up your skirt more to see the globe of your ass, chuckling when you began to move your hips side to side, giving your ass some movement against him. "Hey, be nice, he's our manager. He's just trying to look out for us and make sure that I get on stage on time, unlike the last time you came back here before a show."
At your words, a proud smile moves over Mingi's lip, remembering how he had you pinned against the wall at one of your concerts, making you late to get on stage after he drilled into you. He wouldn't stop until you came hard around him at least 3 times. He wouldn't take any excuse, even when Yeosang came banging on the door, following after you with a shit-eating grin on his face when you both emerged from the room.
"You excited for Chella, babygirl? The crowd is chanting your name." Mingi hummed, fixing his platinum hair in the mirror above you before pulling back to let you stand up straight, his hand resting on the small of your back as you both made your way to the stage. You nodded, picking up your microphone and in ears while Mingi did the same. Your set was around 22 songs, including 2 costume changes and even a special guest. Your show was one everyone was looking forward to and you wanted to make sure that you met their expectations.
You and the rest of your band listened to Yeosang give a rundown of the stage as you all stood up on the lift, Mingi's dark blue guitar resting against his feet as he bit his guitar pic, something he did before every performance. You nodded, smiling as the lift began to move up, the cheers growing louder and louder until you were on the stage, the huge crowd of people screaming their hearts out at your appearance.
"Coachella, make some noise for me!" The crowd was like putty in your hands, screaming even louder before the first song began. The crowd cheered for each band member as you introduced them.
You made a show of walking over to Mingi, the crowd getting even louder when you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. "This is my right-hand man and lead guitarist, Song Mingi" Mingi accompanied your introduction with a guitar rift, your fans barking for him. It was a staple whenever he performed to bark for him, the barking growing louder as many of the Coachella crowd picked up on the trend, barking for him as well.
Your set was full of cheers, the band playing perfectly as usual, interacting with the fans while you sang. You were even able to get close enough to the fans to have them touch you, which Mingi smirked at. While you were on your knees in front of your fans singing, Mingi came over to play his guitar closer, the crowd exploding as he began to drop to his knees, performing the guitar rift right over you as you continued to sing. The moment would go viral on social media, you already knew it, but you were much more concerned with Mingi's dark eyes that met yours while he played before he shot you a secret wink, raising himself back up from being over you before he walked to play at the other side of the stage.
You were having fun singing, flirting more with Mingi as the songs went on, your touches getting hotter for opening his jacket during his solo to show off his fresh 'FIX ON' tattoo that moved over his chest and his abs, singing right behind him while he played, his head moving back to rest on your shoulder while he played. You could tell by the way he stared at you that he would've taken you right there on that stage if he could, his lust for you growing more and more as the songs went on.
Mingi was full of his own tricks, though, grabbing a shot of whiskey from a fan for both of you, holding one for himself before he handed it to you, you both taking the shot before he poured the rest on his head, shaking his head as he played, your eyes falling on the droplets of whiskey that moved down his chest and abs. Mingi then took the opportunity to press his forehead against yours, panting as he tried to keep eye contact with you. He wanted you to focus on him as he played, your vocals never wavering as you and he held eye contact, singing flirtatious lyrics as if you both were alone.
"Thank you Coachella!" You waved goodbye as your set finally ended, walking back to the lift with your band members, the crowd still cheering for you as the lift slowly fell as you all waved, Mingi's free hand landing on your lower back as you all slowly disappeared.
"Good job everyone, you all are trending on every social media site!" Yeosang complimented you all as you all walked from the lift, accepting the water bottles he handed out. You had barely taken a few sips of your water when Mingi began to drag you away from everyone else. Coachella's backstage area was all outside, the trailers being only for the artists to get ready. However, Mingi didn't have the patience to go all the way to the trailer, bringing you to an area that was empty near the stage, hidden behind a pillar. You didn't have to question him at all, his hands landing on your hips as your lips met his in a heated kiss, Mingi's grip on you tightening as he pressed his body against yours.
You ran your hands through his hair as he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before he pressed your back against the pillar again, letting you feel just how much he wanted you. At your moan when he rolled his hips into you, he shushed you quickly, his teeth dragging along your bottom lip before he placed a finger against his lips, whispering "shh, baby. keep quiet for me, yeah? Don't want anyone to come over here for us."
"I thought you had always wanted an audience though?" You whispered back against his lips, your nails slowly dragging down his chest as he moaned softly. It was true: Mingi had a thing for pleasuring you with an audience, eating you out underneath tables when you are going live with fans, doing the same thing when you're recording with the producer in the room, Mingi wanted everyone to know just how good he could make you feel.
Mingi smirked, his hands grabbing at your breasts over your top as he responded "Can you handle that, though? Can you handle someone watching us with their hands down their pants as I fuck your pretty pussy? You won't get all embarrassed and try and look away as per usual?''
You nodded, feeling like you were in a haze as Mingi returned his lips to yours, his tongue teasingly moving over yours before he pulled back, his chest moving as he began to roll his hips against you. You were deep down happy that there was no one around the area, everyone backstage either leaving, trying to beat the traffic, or helping to pick up the trash around the festival site.
"Are you two done?" Your kiss with Mingi broke with Mingi's annoyed groan at Yeosang's words, rolling his eyes as he turned to face him. His eyes drilled into the manager before an idea came into his head. "Baby, Yeosang had to sign an NDA before he began working with us, right?"
"Yeah, he signed a bunch of them, why?" You remained in Mingi's arms as he turned to face Yeosang, a devious smirk moving over his lips before he said "No, actually, me and Y/N here aren't done. If you want to talk to her so much, you're going to have to talk to her while I eat her out."
Mingi's words made Yeosang blush, stuttering out a small "what?"
"You heard me: Either you wait to talk to her," Mingi paused, unwrapping your legs from around his waist before he placed you back down on the ground, Mingi's lips meeting yours before he slowly kissed down your body, dropping to his knees in front of you. "Or, you can stand here and talk to her while I eat out her wet pussy, your choice."
Yeosang couldn't help but stutter, trying to figure out if Mingi was serious, but when Mingi began to press kisses to the insides of your thighs, he could tell that he was in fact serious. At Yeosang not moving, Mingi smirked before looking up at you, asking "You're okay with our manager Yeosang watching us, right? I mean, whatever he has to say must be so important that it can't wait for us to finish." You bit your lip as you nodded, a small moan leaving your lips as Mingi bit down on your thigh, saying "No baby, out loud. Look at Yeosang and say it's okay if he watches."
"It's okay if you watch" You whimpered to Yeosang as Mingi kissed over his bite, placing your leg up onto his shoulder before he kissed up your thigh, his focus now only on your pussy as Yeosang cleared his throat. He felt challenged as if Mingi was challenging him to see if he wouldn't be able to handle the sight, but he could. Heck, he had walked past you both constantly fucking all the time, this was nothing different other than that he could see it.
"So, I'm going to go over the analytics of tonight's performance with you along with how payment is going to work." You nodded as Mingi pushed your panties to the side, cursing softly at how wet you seemed to be before he dipped his tongue into you, making you gasp. You tried to keep your facial emotions in check while Mingi ate you out, trying your hardest to pay attention to Yeosang's words and analytics from the show on social media. Mingi looked up at you as you kept talking to Yeosang, sucking hard on your clit to make you moan out loud in the middle of your sentence, your hand moving into his hair to press him against your pussy, making him moan into you. You wanted to keep him busy from trying to play with you, your cheeks already on fire from how Yeosang was watching you both.
Mingi smirked as your leg began to tense on his shoulder, letting him know that you were just about to cum. He slowly kissed up your body, his ringed fingers playing with your pussy lips as he whispered into your ear "you're focusing so hard baby, let me help you relax a bit"
You bit your lip harder as Mingi easily slipped 3 fingers into you, your hands rushing out to grip his forearm as Yeosang continued to talk to you, his eyes glancing down at your hands as they gripped Mingi's moving forearm as he fucked up into you with his fingers, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, Mingi's lips all over your neck as he shamelessly whispered into your ear all about the things he wanted to do to you. Yeosang felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sight and the sound, his eyes slowly moving back up your body as you tried to hold back all your sounds. He hummed before holding up his tablet, needing your signature for something.
Your hands shook as you accepted the tablet from him, your orgasm right about to wash over you as you signed your name on the tablet. Mingi smirked as you came all over his hands, his gaze now moving to Yeosang as he slowly pulled his hands from you. You cleared your throat as you handed back the tablet, your signature drawn messily onto the page. Mingi shamelessly sucked on his fingers as Yeosang looked down at the tablet, holding back his smirk when he noticed that you had written your signature while you were cumming.
You rested against Mingi as he began walking to the limo, chuckling deeply before he paused, turning around to face Yeosang. "If you'll excuse me and Y/N, we're going back to the hotel. I'm sure everything else you need to say can wait?"
"Of course" Yeosang hummed, his eyes moving over both you and Mingi before he walked past you, his arm grazing yours as he made his way to his ride back to the hotel without even glancing back. "I think he liked it," Mingi chuckled, picking you up before carrying you to the limo, having you sit on his lap before your lips met in a heated kiss. You and Mingi kissed as the limo driver turned up the music, giving both you and Mingi as much privacy as he could as he was used to you both doing this. Mingi's hands moved down to your hips, his hands moving underneath the skirt to knead your ass as you deepened the kiss, your hips moving against Mingi's, his hard cock pressing against his belt hard.
Mingi tossed his head back as you kissed down his neck, your hands moving over his chest as Mingi helped you grind down against him, his eyes closing as you bit down on him. "That's my baby, mark me up. I wanna post a selfie tomorrow showing all your marks off on me." Mingi loved seeing the comments on the post debating whether or not it was real or not, if they came from a woman or from somewhere else- it always got him off.
"Should start recording us," he moaned out as you removed his belt, his hand landing harshly on your ass before he licked his lips. "Have you be my own private little porn star."
You moaned at his words, licking up his neck as Mingi continued to moan out his desires, not caring about the poor driver in the front as he dragged his hands up your ass slowly, his nails digging into you before you shut him up with a kiss, your lips and tongue meeting in a messy kiss that was fit for a porn star.
When the limo finally pulled into the hotel, Mingi and you rushed to exit the car before you both rushed into the hotel through the back that was for celebrities, bypassing the many cameras. Mingi and you both laughed as he pressed you against the wall of the staircase, your lips meeting in a deep kiss as you both stumbled up the stairs to your floor. Mingi then pressed you against your hotel room door, panting against your neck as his hands already began to unzip your skirt, his voice against your ear neck as he panted "You better hurry up before I shove down your skirt and take you in this hallway, maybe we can give the security team a show next."
You bit your lip as you pressed your keycard against the door, knowing that the security of the hotel didn't sign an NDA, unlike Yeosang. You pushed open the door, Mingi's body immediately following yours as you both entered the room, his heavy boots kicked the door closed before his lips met yours again in a messy kiss.
Clothing began to be thrown all around the bedroom as you both made your way to the nearest surface, which so happened to be the floor. Mingi chuckled softly as you both landed on the floor, Mingi's back pressing against the hotel's expensive carpet as he helped you move on top of him, moving you so you faced his cock while he could have you sit on his face. "Put that pretty pussy on my face, baby."
You didn't have to be told twice, moaning as your pussy landed right on his mouth, his tongue moving quickly to taste you. Your eyes closed, your nails digging into his abs before you leaned down to take his cock into your mouth, his own eyes rolling back at the feeling. Mingi swore there was something about how you took him deep in your throat that always made him fucking ravenous. He growled deeply against you, his hands moving to grip the globes of your ass as you took him deeper into your throat, all the way to the hilt.
"That's my fucking girl, taking me like a pro." Mingi praised, his tongue returning to you to match the pace that you set.
You stopped? He stopped.
You rolled your hips back? He rolled his hips up to make you choke on his cock.
Mingi was a man of many talents, and making you cum quickly was number one.
"I'm gonna cum, Mingi, fuck." You pulled back from his cock to pump him in your hand, your words urging your boyfriend to speed up as he curled his tongue, pumping another finger into you as he moaned, the vibrations helping you to cum all over his tongue.
Even though your haze you continued to pump Mingi's hard cock, Mingi tossing his head back against the floor as he praised you. "Faster, baby. Earn that nut from me, baby. I'm almost there with you just don't stop- oh my fucking god, yes"
Mingi couldn't even think straight as you deep-throated him, a small whine leaving his deep voice as he came. He didn't know what to grab onto, choosing to dig his fingers into your ass before he fully fell back against the floor, his body shaking slightly underneath you while you cleaned him up with your tongue. Mingi chuckled at the feeling, his hand landing a firm smack on your ass before he ran a hand over his face.
"You always make me cum so hard when you do that, baby. Always know how to make your man so fucking happy." He chuckled, helping you get up before he got up from the floor, his legs now slightly wobbly before as he laughed. He walked with you over to the bed, his hands resting against the sheets as he asked for a minute, still shaking from the orgasm you had given him, making you giggle. You loved watching Mingi recover from cumming, his hair being a mess, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the fresh layer of sweat making him glow in the room's light.
You crawled over to his hunched frame, pressing small kisses to his shoulders as he chuckled, his voice now even deeper. His hands then pushed you back on the bed, his tongue moving over your lips as he grabbed your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed. He slowly pushed into you, his long and thick cock stretching you out as he slowly filled you up, making sure that you felt every single part of his cock.
"Yeah, baby, roll those eyes back at how good just having my cock feels in you" Mingi moaned, his eyes burning into you as your eyes rolled back as he stuffed you full. He loved how your body seemed to react to his cock whenever you both fucked, his eyes now on your breasts as he began to fuck you, watching as they bounced.
"Those perfect tits of yours too, fuck. Saw Yeosang looking at them earlier while I was finger fucking you. I don't blame him though, just look at how juicy your tits look when they're moving from my fucking cock" you moaned as Mingi's hands moved to your breasts, playing with them as he began to roll his hips, leaning down to wrap his lips around the nipple. Your moans got louder, your running through his hair as he switched nipples, his tongue moving over your nipples before he pulled back, pressing them against each other as he moved faster.
"Yeah, sing for me, Y/N. Sing for me while you take my cock" Mingi's pace picked up to drill into you, using your breasts as leverage to move you on his cock, his cock hitting deep into you as you moaned his name, your hands moving from the bed to his hair to his back; you didn't know where to hold on as he fucked you, your back arching as you felt your orgasm building up quickly. At your tightness, Mingi growled "No, not yet. You better hold on until I'm fucking ready, Y/N."
"Mingi" You begged, you cries not making your lover stop, only moving faster, his eyes moving from your face to your tits he still held onto your stomach as his cock plowed into you. He loved how you begged for him, his cock twitching before growled out "cum, cum for me baby"
You both came hard, your vision becoming blurry as Mingi's pace stuttered, his cock plowing into you before he filled you, his eyes closing before he rushed down to suck and lick on your tits, leaving hickies behind as he moaned and panted against you. You held him close as you both panted, Mingi soon landing on the bed right against you as you both tried to calm down. Your eyes were closed as Mingi kissed your shoulder, his hand moving your face to his as he kissed you, his tongue running along your bottom lip before he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.
You rested against the bed as Mingi got up, blinking still as his vision returned, stumbling to grab both you and him a water bottle before he went back over to you, his phone also in his hand. He opened your bottle, handing it to you before he said "I'll turn the water on for you, baby, just lay there."
You nodded, resting with the cold water bottle while Mingi went into the bathroom, turning on the water for you and him to bathe. He sat down against the side of the tub, taking a sip of his water as he unlocked his phone, his eyes zeroing in on a text from Yeosang.
Yeosang: If you and her ever want an audience or more, I'd be more than happy to do so again.
BAMBIKISSS | 2024
457 notes · View notes
flwrstqr · 1 month
Text
— SOMEONE'S JEALOUS...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⸃ ⸰ ⌁ after jay and you had an arguement before the concert, he gets jealous after seeing you sing to a guy. ヾ
pairing - guitaristjay x singer fem!reader ୨୧ wc - 200+ ₊˚⊹ genre jealousy, oneshot ୨ warnings - not proofread, jealousy, argument in the beginning, the song that they sing is into you by paramore⠀✩。:*・.nini side note i saw a clip on an acting vid about this so i thought why not write it for jay cus its so jay coded!??!?!| LIBRARY FOR MORE...
ᝰ feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG
Tumblr media
"YOU NEVER UNDERSTAND, JAY!" you exclaimed as the two of you argued.
Jay scoffed, "We've been over this 50 times, YN."
"She's just a 'pick-me' who's obsessed with you! Are you choosing her over me?" you murmured, tears threatening to spill.
"YN-" his voice was cut off by the staff instructing them to go onstage.
"God, Jay, you always ruin everything," you muttered, brushing past him swiftly to prepare your earpiece and mic. As the concert began, you maintained a good image, hiding your anger.
Jay strummed his electric guitar in time with the music, stealing glances at you. His mind was filled with guilt over the argument.
"After all this time," you sang. Jay looked up to see you approaching a male fan, exchanging flirtatious looks before continuing the song, singing to him. 
"I'm still into you," you winked at the fan, Jay's frustration simmering. He watched as you continued to engage with the fan, singing directly to them. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. With each change in tempo, Jay's strumming grew louder.
You flinched as the guitar's volume increased, Jay purposefully overshadowing your vocals. Determined, you sang louder, meeting Jay's smirk with a gaze.
"And baby, even on our worst nights," you sang, locking eyes with Jay, "I'm into you. Let them wonder how we got this far, 'cause I don't really need to wonder at all."
As Jay slightly lowered his volume, you turned away from the fan, making your way towards him. Singing directly to him, you eyed his guitar before meeting his gaze.
"After all this time, I'm still into you," you sang, sharing a moment of eye contact before turning away to continue the performance.
536 notes · View notes
auggieblogs · 9 months
Text
"Dude, I have a boyfriend"
Max Verstappen x fem!reader
Author's note: Hi, hi, turns out I actually enjoy writing and I am also half decent at it? So, hopefully, I'll be writing more in the future:))
P.S.- This one shot is inspired by a very cute TikTok I saw recently (this morning). AND I AM SO DOWN BAD FOR MAX, LORD HELP ME!
Tumblr media
Max Verstappen had been immersed in his world of sim racing for hours. He'd been practising tirelessly, determined to stay at the top of his game even when he wasn't out on the real racetrack. Meanwhile, his girlfriend, Y/N, had been in their cosy bedroom, strumming her guitar softly and humming along to the music she was creating. The soft, warm glow of fairy lights hung above their bed and bathed the room in a comforting ambience. It was one of those peaceful moments they cherished, each lost in their own world yet connected by the simple fact that they were together. But now, finally, he was done. He pushed away from his simulator, feeling the relief of stretching his legs after sitting for so long.
He walked into their bedroom, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watched her fingers glide across the strings, of her vintage guitar, creating a beautiful melody that filled the room. He approached her with the intention of showering her with kisses, but as he leaned in, Y/N playfully turned her head, avoiding his advances.
"Dude, I have a boyfriend," she said with a mock-serious expression.
Max froze for a moment, his brow furrowing in confusion. Had he missed something? Then realization dawned, and he burst into laughter. "Wait, what?" he chuckled. "You're dating someone? Tell me more about this mysterious boyfriend of yours."
Y/N giggled, setting her guitar aside and giving Max a teasing look. "Well, he's a pretty awesome guy. He's got this incredible talent for racing, and he's cute, too."
Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Cute, huh? Sounds like someone I should meet."
Y/N leaned closer, closing the distance between them. "Oh, you've met him plenty of times, Max Verstappen."
Max's playful grin returned as he wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her close. "Well then, I think it's time for me to have a little talk with this boyfriend of yours."
Y/N laughed as Max leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. Their lips moved together in perfect harmony. When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other.
"You know," Max said with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm going to fight that boyfriend of yours for stealing my girl."
Y/N's eyes softened as she cupped Max's cheek. "I love you, Max."
Max's heart swelled with love, and he pressed another gentle kiss to her lips. "I love you too, Y/N."
2K notes · View notes
aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 month
Text
Ex-Boyfriend John Price MiniFic
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Thinking of your ex-boyfriend John Price seeing you again for the first time after a nasty break-up that essentially didn't go as planned by him.
You knew what you were getting into when entering a relationship with a man who was a workaholic. You knew it was always a priority but you never thought that it had to be an ultimatum between you and that, clearly you were an idiot to think you were more important.
If only you hadn't asked his friend, why was he prolonging his time with you if his decision was set to end it with you when he got the promotion? What exactly would change in that short amount of time?
That night ended in screams, no matter how much John tried to tell you he loves you, it fell on deaf ears. "Actions speak louder than words" was always the saying and you know what? That applies to this, it applies to everything he's ever made you felt and the lack of exchange.
You tried so hardly to not discredit the past, but maybe he just used you. He only tolerated your love like it's a minor convenience for him, you were already there, it's not like he could be picky on who chooses to take care of him.
But who cares right? That was three years ago and you two live separate lives now. John was out there doing god knows what with his colleagues drinking his nights away as he took another woman in bed every night in hopes to drown you out his mind.
If it wasn't for his friend's influence that one drunken night, John wouldn't have said yes to attending a black-tie event. Wasn't ever his thing really, fancy settings with stuffy clothes.
He tried to fit in as far as he could, pretending to stare at whatever painting or sculpture he can spot when in reality no thoughts or feelings except one thing.
He was never one to appreciate or understand what most art try to convey but he once knew someone who did. This was a place you would've thrived in and maybe some part of him wanted you to be there, some sick joke life was playing really.
His whole body froze right as he knew it. There you were, that silk baby pink dress that just made you glow paired with that white fur shawl that he remembers you showed off to him. How adorable you were telling him that it caught your eye and might be useful at a formal event.
Something he thought he'd only ever see in his dreams again.
Barely blinking as you stared at the painting mounted on the wall with this golden frame, you expression deep in thought yet your eyes were glassed with admiration.
What does he do? Without thinking, he stepped forward in hopes that his body would be strong enough to be able to approach you.
He was about to when.. a man approaches you, embracing you from behind. You were caught of guard but you quickly realize who it was and it was clear to John what your familiarity was with this man.
The image of the man burying his face on the nape of your neck was more than enough to cruelly twist the knife in his heart that's been lodged there for the past 3 years.
Those three words uttered by the man, loud enough for John to hear, the same one you'd always tell him but he rarely returned for a reason he himself is unaware of.
The sound of the camera clicks snapped Price out of his trance, paparazzi, who wouldn't want to capture an intimate, romantic moment between a couple who both happened to be rich?
He couldn't do anything to fix this even if he tried, for all he knew you were now in the arms of a influential, dangerous man who would destroy John's life if he wanted to. He gulps, not knowing what to do..
My CoD Masterlist
A/n: Was this inspired by that one scene from Twisted LIes?? Idk what you're talking about 👀 ALSO DON'T SPOIL ME, I'M ONLY HALFWAY THROUGH THE BOOK
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo
384 notes · View notes
ronwestbreeze · 1 year
Text
ROLE MODEL
Tumblr media
pairing: rockstar!hobie brown x drummer!reader
summary: i just like the song lol
word count: 1k (drabble)
author's note: the rockstar!hobie brown idea was inspired by @murdrdocs drabbles. go check them out!
Tumblr media
It’s crazy cuz’ he noticed you before you ever set your eyes on him.
The first time was the night before his gig. Hobie just happened to be pub hopping when he saw you smashing it on the drums. You were just so into it, so entranced by the music—him so entranced by you. Hobie just knew by then he had to find some way to talk to you. You were just something he could not see only just once and leave it at that.
No. Once wasn’t enough.
You saw him during one of his gigs. The way the purple and pink lights flashed upon his umber skin, his hair—god you loved the dreads—the piercings, the devilish smirk that just made your heart jump, and the way his hands expertly moved on the strings of his guitar, creating such an amazing sound that you loved so much. The guitar was your favorite instrument, unfortunately you found yourself best at the drums but someday you’d love to give the guitar a try. And look just as cool as this guy.
 Oh yeah, you were totally crushing on him the moment you first saw him. You wanted to talk to him—really you did—even your friend was trying to push you toward him after the show. You were confident on the drums, not asking dudes out.
All you knew was that you wouldn’t forget him or that night. You just weren’t sure if you would ever see him again.
Fuck, you blew your chance…
After that night, you found yourself now obsessed with his band’s music, sometimes catching hints of his singing voice here and there. God you were such a dork about it. Your friends liked to laugh about your little crush, but you were feeling absolutely stupid about it. Knowing that it probably wouldn’t ever happen.
Turns out the two of you lived in the same city. Hobie found you during one of his quick runs to the coffee shop. There he spotted you hunched over a table with a book of music notes and headphones on your ears. He thought about approaching you, introducing himself and all that, but unfortunately he was in a rush and could do nothing but briskly walk past you. Only to stop short when he heard a familiar song coming from your headphones. Just when Hobie was about to leave, you looked up at him.
Smooth as all can be, Hobie pointed to his ears, causing you to move part of your headphones so you could hear him say, “I like that song. You’ve got taste, yeah?”
Your smile made him smile just a bit, “I wouldn’t say all that. If you see my playlist you might change your mind.”
“Naah, I’ll show you mine and you show me yours.”
A chuckle left your lips, “Sure, sounds great.”
Hobie smirked, “I’m—”
“Hobie Brown. Yea, I saw you at one of your shows.”
Huh, you knew who he was. Hobie shouldn’t have been so giddy about this the way he was at that moment.
“You gonna tell me your name then?”
“Y/N.”
God your name was even prettier than he imagined.
You saw him again during a show near your old neighborhood. He even spotted you out in the crowd this time. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you had ran into him that day in the coffee shop, much less that he now knew your name. You pinched yourself multiple times just to make sure you hadn’t been dreaming about that interaction. And when the bruises appeared on your skin, your heart fluttered for hours. A giggly mess as embarrassing as it sounded.
When the show was over, you managed to leave out the side door of the venue only to find Hobie leaning against a wall with a cigarette in his mouth and black headphones around his neck. He looked up, a grin stretching his lips when he saw you.
“Thought I saw you in ‘ere.”
He stepped toward you as you grinned, “You were killer on that guitar you know, I’m almost envious.”
“Naah, I know you ain’t shit talkin’ when I saw you slammin’ it on em’ drums.” Hobie smirked when you grew visibly flustered. You didn’t know he had seen you play before. “Best drummer I’ve seen, I’ll tell ya.”
“Shut up, there’s way better.” You playfully rolled your eyes as you leaned on the brick wall next to him. You gestured to the headphones, “Got that playlist for me?”
Hobie smirked and placed them on your head, “This first song is why I picked up the strings in the first place.”
When the song played, when you heard the guitar, you immediately was engrossed into the song. Closing your eyes, listening closely to every instrument and every voice. For a second you had almost forgotten that Hobie was there watching you, his hand on the wall next to you and leaning on it.
You pointed to the headphones, “You’ve gotta show me how to play like this. Like you one day.”
“Yeah?” Hobie glanced from your lips and then back to your eyes, “What, d’you want private lessons? Cuz’ I think there’s room in me schedule. If ya ready for it.”
Instead of replying, you took your own headphones out and placed them on his head. “Here, you're gonna like this one.” When you played the song from your phone, Hobie didn’t close his eyes and get into the music like you had done. Instead he never broke eye contact with you and his head began bopping slightly.
You stepped forward and Hobie leaned closer. It was perfect how your lips easily fitted each other. How the smell of both cigarettes and cologne filled your nose, leaving you wanting more of it. How the softness of your lips only confirmed that he wouldn’t let you go so easily.
Both hands were on the wall and on either side of your head as he leaned further into the kiss. The music pounded in both of your ears, the night was loud and yet quiet at the same time.
There was a certain high that came from his touch. And there was a certain drug that he craved when it came to kissing you.
When the two of you broke apart to catch your breaths, he grinned down at you.
“It’s a date then.”
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
vmpiires · 1 month
Text
﹆₊エモ‧₊˚ HEY EMO BOY ! KAMO CHOSO
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ he caught your attention so why not shoot your shot? wc, 3.49K. dark mode recommended.
␥ note. y’all see the title..i was thinking about this song and every day i say it reminds me of choso so..why NOT make a story out of it? (i was on c.ai and i made a bot for it to test the idea) AND JOIN THE DISCORD. hope ya enjoyyy. reblog to support meeee.
␥ tags. emo!choso, choso is a bass guitarist, smut, cunnilingus, smoking, female anatomy, college AU, etc. lmk if i missed anything
␥ misc. masterlist AO3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
wearing all black with chains dangling from his ripped jeans and striking black boots was choso kamo. that bass player who was in one of your college classes. his ears were adorned with multiple piercings, including a cross-shaped earring hanging from his left ear.
his tongue and eyebrow were also pierced, along with a thick black choker wrapped around his neck, complimenting his edgy appearance. you noticed how slender and delicate his fingers were as he adjusted the strap on his guitar, each nail painted a glossy black to match his image.
choso was one of the rudest but most attractive people you've ever interacted with on campus. his pale skin brought out the dark rings under his eyes, making him look as if he hadn't slept a day in his life. there was a black mark running across the bridge of his nose, extending to both sides of his face and piercing violet eyes that were nearly covered by his obsidian hair that was tied back into a low ponytail.
you were always up to something of course. you wore a skirt that hugged your curves and showed your ass perfectly, guaranteeing a stare from any man you walked by. your shirt was also quite revealing. as someone as snarky and bitchy as yourself, you were confident that you could handle choso like a dog on a leash.
a smirk stretched across your lips as you slipped a sucker between your lips. it was free time, and everyone was hanging around outside on campus. of course, your target was there too. as you approached him, you could hear the sounds of his guitar as he strummed the strings with his slender fingers.
"hey, emo boy," you shouted, putting your foot up on the bench just beside choso's thigh as you removed the sucker from your mouth, a long string of saliva connecting to it. you knew what you were doing.
choso jumped a little, hearing your voice close by. his head whipped around to look at you, his expression going from a slight frown to flat nothingness. "well, well, well. if it isn't the slut."
"and if it isn't the school's jackass," you snapped back.
"whatever, slut. you should watch who you're talking to and where you stick that sucker around me." choso's gaze fell back down to his guitar as he kept plucking the strings, making sure to look at you from the corner of his eye.
a scoff escaped your lips, the smirk on your face growing wider at his words. "yeah?" you challenged, your tone dripping with sarcasm and amusement. "i guess it'll be in your mouth next if you keep it up." the playful glint in your eye matched the teasing tone of your voice as you continued to banter back and forth with the male.
those words surprised him enough to make him pause, his eyes flickering over to focus on you fully once he realized what you just said. a smile crept onto his face and his eyes glimmered a bit as he looked at you. "oh really? i wouldn't mind that."
your boisterous laughter echoes through the room, "you're definitely a freak," you exclaim with a sly smile. "but you know what? i like that about you, emo boy."
"of course you would." choso smirked, playing with the strings even faster and playing a cord with just the right amount of ferocity and finesse. you watched as his fingers moved, just wondering how they'd move when they were abusing your cunt.
choso’s gaze shifted from the guitar to your eyes, a momentary pause before returning to his instrument. "so, wanna get out of here?" he asked, his voice smooth and low like velvet.
with a smirk, you teased, "oh, the emo asshole wants to go out with the slut." despite your words, you couldn't resist the glint of mischievousness in his eyes. "well," you shrugged nonchalantly, “fine, i guess i’ll go with you."
choso let out a low chuckle, standing up. he was tall, almost 6 feet, and even in his slouching position he looked like a model. "of course you will. i wouldn't let a girl with a body like yours go just like that." he smirked as he put his guitar in its casing and pulled it over his shoulder before holding out a hand for you to take.
"you wanna hold my hand and you don't even know my name," you remarked, grabbing his hand. as you held onto his significantly larger hand, she felt how calloused and veiny they were. you could only imagine how he looked without his clothes.
"i do know your name, but not caring about it is the fun part." choso said, looking down at your interlocked hands once you took his. you were quite small compared to him. just imagining the two of you together looked absurd, it made him smile a bit.
"what's your dorm room number?" he queried, finally moving his gaze away from your hand and back to your eyes. you hummed, wondering if you should lie or lead the guy off somewhere other than your dorm room but you eventually gave in anyway.
"777," you answered briefly.
"your lucky number," choso replied. he turned, letting go of your hand and gesturing for you to follow. he led you down a path that maneuvered you through a section of trees that connected to the dorms of the main campus.
as you approached your dorm room, choso could already feel the heat radiating from your body. your presence ignited a fire within him, stirring desires he hadn't planned on acting upon. the air seemed to pulse with electricity as he walked beside you, his eyes drawn to your every move.
he couldn't deny the attraction he felt toward you, a magnetic pull that seemed to intensify with each step. choso couldn't resist the urge to take things a bit farther than he had originally intended.
"you got a roommate?" choso asked, watching as you grabbed the keycard from your skirt pocket and unlocked the door. your room was big enough for another person to move in, but you requested to be in a single room before the school year began. though, it was damn near impossible to get approved, you sure did...with your looks.
"nope," you finally say, slipping your shoes off. choso's boots made a loud clacking sound as he followed behind you, pushing the door closed and then removing his boots, just as you did.
"of course you don't," he scoffed jokingly, a smirk evident on his face. the male glanced around the room, taking in his new surroundings, excited for what was about to come next. "you probably scare every girl who tries to room with you off, huh?"
"its not my fault the girls here aren't scary and sexy like i am," you shrug nonchalantly. "they're usually either or...or they're sweeter than this stupid sucker in my mouth," you added, furrowing your eyebrows with disdain for your female schoolmates.
choso couldn't help but chuckle at the sour expression on your face before turning his head to the side for barely a moment. his eyes wandered over your body before they finally returned to your eyes. they were so bright, and so sharp that it was almost intimidating.
"you're just a narcissistic slut, huh?" he teased. your eyelids lowered, narrowing your eyes at the male as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.
you flipped him off as you sat yourself down on your bed. "you're getting laid by this slut so i suggest you shut up." you snapped at him.
"and i'm gonna enjoy every second of it," he growled under his breath, a lustful smile spreading across his face. "you better not be lying about having any roommates because i'm gonna make you scream until you can't anymore."
"yeah? i'll make sure you get some sleep tonight." you sucked on your bottom lip. there was a silence between the two of you, each daring the other to do something first. choso slowly bent down to get eye level with you, his hands going to your waist as he ran the back of his fingers along your sides.
“yeah, right.” his voice was a low, husky whisper in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. the heat of his breath tickled the sensitive skin of your ear as he spoke. "i bet you're so tight," he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. the intensity in his words made your cheeks flush and your heart race.
“wanna see?” you whispered back, a smirk playing on your lips once again, challenging choso to do something more.
choso smirked and wrapped one arm completely around her waist, pulling her up against his body. his other hand trailed up your thigh. with one swift motion, he lifted you up and pushed her down onto the bed. his fingers traced a line slowly across your thighs as his breath hitched.
“i can feel how wet you are,” his voice, rich and low. it was rough and thick, like velvet against your skin. you couldn't help but suck in your breath as he spoke. the air was thick with anticipation and desire, and you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs at his words.
every nerve in your body seemed to hum with need as you waited for him to make his move. his presence felt magnetic, drawing you closer until there was barely any space between you. your heart pounded in your chest as his heated gaze locked onto yours. an that moment, there was no denying the primal attraction between you two.
“i’m always wet. it’s just your first time seeing,” you replied sharply.
a smirk spread across choso’s face. the way you spoke about yourself was very cocky but he liked it. he liked it when you challenged him.
he slowly moved towards your skirt, grabbing the hem and pulling it up just enough to peek underneath, his fingers grazing the edge of your panties before they reached their way up your thigh again.
as he leaned forward, his breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers of anticipation through her body. time seemed to stand still as choso's lips finally made contact with your thigh, his kisses and sucks slow and deliberate. you couldn't help but smile as you ran your hands through his hair, pulling the ponytail out and placing it in your own hair.
a soft moan escaped from choso's lips as he pressed into your thigh, barely audible but the way his head shook told the story of his pleasure. without hesitation, he climbed on top of you, his hips pressing firmly against yours as his hands explored every inch of your body.
your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as you relished in the feeling of it between her fingers. it reminded choso of something from his past, a memory that both pained and comforted him.
his breath hitched once again when you touched his hair, a gesture that brought back memories of his mother and his broken family. but in that moment with you, he felt whole again, grateful for the pleasure you gave him and longing for more.
choso bit his lip as he closed his eyes, his hands moving frantically across your body. he was so lost in the moment that he forgot about the time, where he was, and what he was supposed to be doing. he was focused on you, only you.
"come on, stop playing around," you interrupted with a playful grin, egging him on. "i wanna see that monster in your pants." your mischievous tone was accompanied by a wink, hinting at your true intentions as you pushed him closer.
“oh, you’ll get to see it, just not right now…”
choso's lips curved into a smirk as he finally pulled away from your thigh. his breath was heavy and quick, evidence of the excitement that coursed through both of your bodies. his strong hands stayed on your hips; their grip was gentle yet possessive as they moved lower toward your skirt.
with careful precision, his fingers slipped into the waistband of your skirt and began to slowly pull it down. as the fabric fell away, his breath hitched once again at the sight of what you were hiding underneath.
a soft moan escaped his lips as his hands remained in place, admiring every inch of your exposed skin. he bit his top lip as his fingers trailed along the edge of your thong. in that moment, he couldn't help but think that you looked just as amazing as your fiery personality.
choso’s hands slipped underneath your thong as he held the edge of them, and after a few moments, they came off of you. he smirked again and then pulled his hands away, allowing himself to see you fully and take her in. his smirk grew wider at the sight.
“yeah, you definitely know what you’re doing.” his hands were shaking a bit. you were almost completely naked in front of him. his fingers traced patterns over you once again, feeling how smooth you felt.
“i bet you look so good on your knees,” he mumbled under his breath. his voice was raspier now and he had to control his breathing when he finally looked into your eyes again.
“hm…maybe. we’ll have to see about that another time,” you smiled, still running your fingers through his hair. “now hurry up before i go dry.”
choso scoffed, feeling your fingers in his hair made it impossible for him to resist you. “i’m just gonna do one thing first,” he whispered as he looked at you, his eyes still full of lust. his hands left his sides again and went to the top of your thighs, his hands resting right underneath where he knew you were sensitive.
he smirked at you as his fingers began to trace small circles around your needy core, feeling your heat as his hands lightly squeezed your thighs with his free hand.
you gasped, your breaths already growing pretty fast, which eventually turned into audible moans as your hips started to buck against choso’s fingers.
choso smirked and squeezed you just a bit firmer, not wanting to push you too far too fast. when you moaned for him, he decided to keep pushing a bit further, finally taking his fingers away, only to use his mouth to do the work.
you spread your legs a bit wider for him and put your hand down on his head again, running your fingers through his hair and tugging on his dark locks a bit harder while you tilted your head back against the pillow as more moans fell from your lips.
the male was more than happy with your actions, suddenly grabbing your wrist and moving your hand from his head. his other hand remained firmly on your thigh as he began to slowly move his head between your thighs, taking his time as he slowly made you want more and more.
he paused for a moment and then slowly let his tongue dart out of his mouth once just to give it a taste. choso groaned softly as he looked up at you, his tongue darting back to his mouth.
your cheeks were completely flushed as his tongue moved against her. “you’re not just some emo loser, you know exactly what you’re doing,” you managed to get out before another moan interrupted your sentence and your hand latching back onto his hair.
choso moved his tongue slowly around your core while his other hand remained firmly on your thigh, occasionally squeezing a bit tighter before releasing.
the feeling of you gripping his hair made him moan and move his tongue with more fervor. he bit his lip gently and sucked on you a bit before letting go and making his hands tighten up on her thighs.
“put that tongue piercing to use,” you commanded followed by a light chuckle, the sensation obviously feeling a bit ticklish to you but the best feeling you’ve ever had.
choso smirked as you mentioned his piercing. he moved his hand from your thigh to your hip and then lowered himself down to her level, so his hands were at the edge of the bed.
he took his time to line his tongue up correctly before he pressed up against her. the sensation made his eyes close slightly before they opened again, this time looking up at you and meeting your eyes.
you bit your lip at the sensation, your moans encouraging him to continue on. he smirked as he heard your noises. he moved his tongue around slowly again, using the silver ball on his tongue to his advantage before sucking on you a bit harder than he had before.
you couldn’t help but moan choso’s name as you pressed his head against your leaky core, your slick wetting his face as your hips moved faster against his lips.
“that feel good?” he whispered, his tongue going back at it again. he looked up at her and saw the way her hair was gripping his, the way your hand rested on his head, how your teeth were biting your lower lip.
you nodded your head vigorously, being unable to speak as you struggled to breathe. a smile spread across choso’s face. your whimpers and moans only reassured him that he was doing something right.
he continued to work his magic on you and kept going until you were finally panting like you were about to faint, your heart racing.
soon enough, you finished all over his face, your mess also spraying onto your thighs. you sat up a little and giggled a little, looking at your mess dripping from choso’s face and on his lips.
a smile stretched across his face, and he finally opened his eyes and looked at you. the sight of you sitting up and giggling at him made his heart flutter, his body feeling fuzzy but satisfied. his eyes went down to his lips, and he smirked as he noticed a trail of your juices dripping from them. he looked back up at her.
“you’re very messy,” he said, his voice full of amusement before he took a swipe of his tongue across his lips, not missing a single drop trying to lick your fluids from his mouth. choso looked at you for a second longer before licking his lips one last time.
"you caused it," you retorted, your voice slightly breathless as your head lolled back against the soft pillow. a content sigh escaped your lips as you gazed up at him. choso's smirk only grew wider as he studied you, taking in every inch of your form.
in his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman in the world, and he loved that you knew exactly what you wanted. he was drawn to your confidence and independence, and it only added to your allure.
slowly, choso went up to you, his face getting as close to you as he could without you pushing him away before placing a kiss on your cheek. his breath was still a bit heavy, a blush painted across his face.
“mm…you made me tired,” he groaned as he finally laid down on the bed next to you. choso crossed his arms over his chest and looked over at you, the exhaustion written all over him.
with a playful giggle, you looked over at the boy next to you and teasingly said, "told you i'd put you to sleep, emo boy." despite his initial skepticism, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. choso couldn't help but be amused by your confidence.
you playfully nudged him, knowing that he secretly enjoyed being teased. "that's exactly what you get," you added with a mischievous grin.
choso's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red and he shifted his gaze away from you, his eyes now fixed on a random spot on the wall in your room. his voice was still calm but tinged with drowsiness as he finally spoke up. "shut up…" he muttered, his irritation evident. "i can't stand you." Choso's words were laced with feigned frustration and resentment towards you.
having a sly grin on your face, you rolled over to face him and rested your head on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "hate me all you want but that doesn't mean you don't like what's between my legs," you retorted with a playful wink.
choso's face turned even redder as he tried to come up with a response, but you could tell he was struggling to keep a straight face. "but that doesn't mean i like you. you're still a pain in the ass."
"whatever," you teased, grinning cheekily. "you'll be back for more."
Tumblr media Tumblr media
© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.
344 notes · View notes
inklessletter · 11 months
Text
Since I can't draw tonight, here's a steddie prompt for you:
Steve runs away from home once he becomes eighteen because his home environment is absolutely toxic. It's all yelling, and spitting insults, and constantly hearing that he is such a disappointment, so he decides to hit the road and go some city away from everyone he knows and just start over. His trauma response to loud, aggressive spaces leads him to accept a job managing a school library.
And he finds out it is his dream job.
He sees all these teens studying, sharing glances, romances beginning, stress increasing as midterms come closer, annoyed faces, giggling girls gossiping, kids vandalizing his tables... And he feels an observant. A watcher.
And he imagines. He imagines their lives, the tall jock with the widest smile going soft for the sarcastic redhead. The quiet thing blossoming between tose two boys who give longing glances when the other is not looking. The oddest friendship between the meanest eleven year old he's ever met and the most cynical kid to ever set foot in that school. He sees and he imagines, but he's silent.
Because silence is a precious shield that protects his imagination. Silence will never hurt him.
His first real friendship begins in silence. This girl, Robin, passes him a note with a poor drawing of him falling asleep on his desk. It made him laugh. She laughed too. That was enough.
They play this game together in which they both exchanged the craziest theories they could think of about other people's lives.
That one is a Russian spy.
That one runs a secret lab.
That one has mind powers (okay, that was maybe too crazy).
That one is an former cop.
"That one is a rockstar," Robin said pointing an absurdly good looking guy that was checking out a couple of books.
"He does looks like one, though..."
Robin was going to reply when she noticed Steve's rosy cheeks. She just smiled. She noticed the guy looking briefly at them, and then he grinned.
"Metal is more my scene, but close enough," he said.
Shit.
The guy approached them and Robin, the traitor, bolted away. The guy, all dimples and soft hair lent Steve two books and his library card (Munson, Eddie), that he registered and gave back to him.
Steve tried hard not to be an awkward mess, he barely managed to.
"I do actually play in a band, uh, on Tuesdays," Eddie said. Steve looked at him with a twist in his stomach. "And today is Tuesday. So if you want to come, I would gladly buy you a drink."
Steve felt a lump in his throat, and looked down.
"Uh, I—I don't—"
"Oh, sorry, I just—"
"I don't do well with loud noises," Steve said quickly. "I'm sorry."
Eddie nodded.
"Good luck tonight," Steve said, not wanting to leave the conversation in a rejection. He pointed the book. "This one is really good."
"Have you read The Lord of the Rings?"
"Yeah," Steve smiled. "I've got time and silence here."
Eddie looked at him with something hidden in his pupils meant to be discovered by Steve.
Eddie left the library.
There were a few days and a lot of conversations with Robin about that Eddie guy. Steve let himself imagine again, about him. About Eddie. He fantasized a lot, ignoring deliberately the sting in his guts knowing that he blew up his chance.
Two weeks passed and Eddie was there to return the books again, with a small guitar case hanging in his back, and Steve tried his best not to look like a kicked puppy.
"I can do soft noises," Eddie said, out of the blue. It earned him a look from both Robin and Steve. "When do you, uh, have a break?"
"Right now," Robin chimed in, quickly. "He's having a break right now."
A few minutes later they were in the rooftop. They found a comfortable spot with the best views and Eddie took out an old and battered ukulele. Then he looked at Steve.
"I am not a silent person. I exist in noise, and busy environments, and awful high pitched laughs," he said with a smile. "I can't change that, but I can change the noise."
Eddie caressed the tiny guitar strings, and the sound sent goosebumps through all Steve's skin.
"I can change the noise for you," Eddie said, low and soft, and he started playing a song. "If you let me."
His first real love began with music.
2K notes · View notes
celestica-1988 · 7 months
Text
An headcanon for every Tokyo Revengers character. Some are funny, other are not.
Mikey favorite holiday is Halloween cause he can eat as many sweets as he wants and nobody can tell him shit.
Draken secretly wants to go to a spa with Emma. Draken babysits Toman, Emma takes care of the Sano household and they need to rest. He gets flustered if he thinks about sharing a bed with her or taking a bath together at the offsprings.
Baji feeds stray cats and others animals. Animals are naturally drawn to him for some reasons.
Chifuyu likes to watch TV programs of plane crashes. He dreams to be a pilot and he wants to learn how to avoid situations like the ones in the programs.
Takemichi started reading and watching thrillers in the hope they help him sharpen his ability to investigate
Kazutora still has nightmares of his father beating his mother.
Mitsuya keeps himself updated on what is popular amongs kids so he can sew cool things to his sisters like clothes or stuffed animal.
Hakkai is secretly learning Italian since he loves the Godfather series.
Taiju favorite film is Shark Tale.
Pahchin sleeps cuddling his dog.
Pehyan reads scientific books so he can came up with more witty come backs on Pahchin brain.
Angry is really loved by the elderly people in his neighborhood because he's always ready to help them in any way despite his grumpy face. One of the grannies taught him the perfect recipe for ramen.
Smiley is an hardcore naruhina shipper and won't hesitate to fight if someone insults his otp.
When Mucho saw Sanzu for the first time he thought he seemed like a stray cat. That's why he approached him with food aka cheesecake.
Sanzu would like to fix his relationship with Senju but he doesn't know how. Senju is always with Takeomi and he hates Takeomi. He's also scared that if he stops checking on Mikey, even for a second, something bad will happen to him and Shinichiro would have died in vain.
Kisaki has an album of pics of Hinata that he took when she didn't notice.
Hanma really loves movies with a lot of action and comments loud every scene of violence saying what he would have done instead if he was the protagonist.
Kokonoi talks about his days and his thoughts to a framed pic of Akane. He feels like she's still with him.
Inui plays guitar and he's interested in spiritism.
Izana throws darts to a Karen Kurokawa pic pinned on the wall because she ruined his life and his relationship with Emma and Shinichiro.
Kakucho shaves his hair by himself. He's not comfortable with people touching his scar.
Shion is unexpectedly good with children. He's a bit chaotic but overall a good babysitter.
Mochi is really good at cooking and he's proud of it.
Rindou started going to the gym because he was tired of being teased for his chubby cheeks. His guilty pleasure is eating Mac Donald food.
Ran loves 70s lamps, the one with bubbles that are moving up and down inside. They help him sleep.
South loves to dance Latin dances like samba, cha cha cha, rumba etc...
Wakasa has got some fishing trophies in his apartment.
Benkei appears as a tough guy but he loves to sleep with plushies.
Shinichiro has got an organizer that uses as his diary in which he writes his thoughts and notes all of his siblings birthdays.
Takeomi is always scolded by his relatives because of how he wasted his life, raised Haru to be a lunatic and ruined the relationship between Haru and Senju.
Hinata secretly trains in martial arts to help Takemichi, even though she knew he probably won't let her take part in a fight.
Emma often thinks at how good it would be if Izana lives with them. She wants him to have a family.
Yuzuha listen to heavy metal as a let out of her frustration for living with Taiju.
Senju sometimes wants to be adopted by Wakasa so she won't have Takeomi around and maybe Sanzu would visit her. She also hate Concordes.
624 notes · View notes
hobiebrownbrowser · 11 months
Text
Waiting Room Quickie
Author note: For this handsome young lad he'll probably have a goofy yet calm aura like the rest of the Hobie's. I gave him a concealed expression. Like imagine his eyes just admiring something in front of him. Not taking his eyes off you for one second unless he's forced too. His smile is low but he mean's well kinda vibe.🧡
Concept Hobie Brown x FEM!Reader
🔞NO KIDS ALLOWED 🔞
Summary:Before a concert Hobie wants to do just more than admire his favorite lady.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"But what if someone comes in?" You look at Hobie clearly nervous, his determination not changing as he simply gets up and locks the door. Walking back towards you, Lifting you in his arms and placing you onto a scratched up make-up stand.
"No one's gotta split the jit now luv, come on~" You gulped, avoiding his eyes. He invited you to his waiting room, The first thing he did was set his guitar down, Propping it in the corner and causally sitting on a beaten up chair that's seen better days.
Your fingers fiddled with one another as he slowly approaches you. His hands resting on your knees as he waits for an answer. His cold rings sending shivers through you as he caresses your calf muscle.
You gave in, A smile plastered on Hobie's face, His lips attaching to yours. A soft moan spilling from you as Hobie pulls on your bottom lip with his teeth, His fingers trailing past your panties.
A muffled cry leaving your lips as he plays with your clit. Spreading your folds with his index and middle finger. Your back arching as his fingers probed at your cunt, barely pushing them inside of you.
"Stop teasing me..." He hummed, your pussy sucking his fingers in as he slowly thrusts them out. Your hands clutching on his shoulders as he finds your sweet spot, his body pushing you up against the mirror frame.
A shallow breath leaving you as something hard pressed against your inner thigh. Hobie placing soft kisses along your neck as he pulls off your shirt.
"H-hobie..." You whined out, His hand sliding upwards to unclasp your bra, Caressing your hips as he discards all your clothes. His soft loving gaze never leaving yours as he pulls off his vest.
You pulled on the rim of his crop top, The thin fabric coming off next. A kiss being placed on your temple before he pulls away. His eyes scanning your body.
You ran your fingers through his beautiful butterfly locs, being careful not to ruin them. The man below you trailing kisses along your cleavage, The palm of his hand making contact with your seeping cunt once again.
You watched as he pulled down his pants, A massive bulge in his boxers. You bit your bottom lip, trailing your finger over the rim of his undergarments before pulling them down. His cock slapping against his abdomen.
You could feel his breath on your skin, His body putting pressure on yours as his cock makes contact with your clit, The tip of his cock pushing past your entrance. Your grip on his shoulders tightening once you feel him stretching you out.
"Fuck!... please..." A quivering cry ringing throughout the room as his cock pulsates inside of you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation. Warmth building in your lower abdomen once he'd set a perfect rhythm.
"Eyes up' ere dollface." He'd finally spoke, his voice raspy as he sets a finger under your chin. His eyes admiring yours as he placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. His hands under your thighs as he deepens his cock inside of you.
Your legs trembling in his grasp as the base of his cock brushes over your sweet spot. Repeatedly sending shocks up your spine as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. His nails digging into the drawer below you as he groans next to your ear.
"Keep ya' pretty lil' eyes on me lush." You did as told, stopping yourself from falling into ecstasy. Your pussy clenching around him as your orgasm falls near.
He slowed down his movements, your gaze following his as a figure stands on the other side of the door. You could feel your heart pounding, A muffled cry coming from you as he covers your mouth with his palm, ravishing you.
A faint knock on the door heightening your senses. Pleasure rolling in your hips as you cum all over his cock. A lousy moan seeping out of you. Hobie hushing your whimpers with the palm of his hand.
"You gotta' jig in 10 minutes mate!" The voice beckoned for hobie, your head in a complete daze as he fucks you senseless, chasing his own orgasm as he captures your lips.
His hips staggering as he fills your pussy with thick ropes of cum. A loud groan spilling from his throat as his cock twitches uncontrollably inside of you, His lips detaching from yours.
He was still inside of you. You both sitting still until one another pulls away. The exhausted male draining the last drops of semen into you. His heavy breathing calming as he picks you up and sets you on a nearby couch.
A tired smirk on his face as he coos you back into existence, Caressing your stomach before wetting a towel and cleaning the mess you both had made. Helping you put back on your clothes, making sure your straight before placing a kiss on your forehead, getting ready for his next rave.
He winks at you, the same grin plastered on his face as he places one last kiss on the bridge of your nose.
"Thank you luv~" He grabbed his guitar and jogged towards the door. A few minutes past 10 as the sound of his guitar lit up the crowd outside. A cup of herbal tea being left by one of his co-workers.
You smiled, enjoying the concert on a digital screen as you sip your hot beverage.
Tumblr media
Now I'm not a professional but I think I aced an A+
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
hsyvers · 11 months
Text
I WANT SOME (OF YOUR LOVE) - spiderwoman!h.yj x f!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SYPNOSIS; yunjin being late to band practice is slowly becoming a habit...and you think you know why. yunjin also has a habit of blushing around you, and you definitely know why.
NOTES; 1.9k. it's all fluff <3 i watched across the spiderverse and had to...lsrfm is a rock band 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yunjin being a terrible liar and chaewon being done w her bs 😭 there's a little bit of swearing
Tumblr media
"shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"
yunjin is late to band practice. again.
which, in theory, should be fine. punctuality was important to her but, hey, in the life of spiderwoman, there had to be sacrifices, right?
"jen, where are you?"
delivered 5 minutes ago. she'll arrive in another 5. shit.
"jm almost theref i orimkse!;" 🗣🧍‍♀️✈"
you stare at your phone with narrowed eyes, your brain trying to process and translate the foreign language.
"hey," you hear chaewon, the leader of your band, call you, "have any idea where your girlfriend is?" she teases, though you can sense a little bit of frustration from her part, which was understandable, knowing that yunjin was her friend too.
"girlfriend!?"
"girlfriend?"
"girlfriend!"
the other three shout simultaneously. eunchae's eyes are sparkling, kazuha's mouth is open in an "O" shape, and sakura looks like she's about to interrogate you on when, why, how, and where this happened.
you throw off the others with a wave of your hand, offering the leader an apologetic smile, tapping your drumsticks on your lap, "ignoring the "girlfriend" part because she isn't, but she did say she'd be here soon."
chaewon merely gives an unconvinced hum, inspecting her microphone while kazuha tunes her bass guitar, eunchae tests her keyboard, and sakura practices rifts on her electric guitar. you tap your drumsticks on the cymbal a little nervously.
"i'm here!" a loud voice announces, as huh yunjin finally runs in, her hair looking messed up, her clothes ruffled, and her own electric guitar lugging along with her on one shoulder. chaewon purses her lips at the scene, but you simply leap from your chair and towards yunjin.
the taller girl closes her eyes and braces for a lecture, but all she feels is gentle hands weaving through her hair. she opens her eyes and looks into yours. you don't look mad...?
"huh yunjin," you whisper.
"hm?" she hums dazedly, her cheeks turning a warm pink when your hands move to pat at her wrinkled clothes.
"what's your excuse this time?" sakura chimes instead, stealing your question from you. at this, yunjin smiles sheepishly, sneaking a glance at you for advice on how to approach this, but all you give her is a slight nod. she sighs.
"i actually have a very good excuse for this and, well....i-"
"she was picking something up for me," you answer for her, with your back still facing the rest of the band. yunjin looks at you, failing to hide her relieved expression, and you shake your head at her before turning around and having a staring contest with chaewon.
the leader sighs and gestures for the both of you to get on stage, "just don't make a habit of it, please, that was the third time this week, jen."
"yes ma'am," the blond electric guitarist nods with a grin, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and running to the stage before you could reprimand her.
you huff, rubbing your cheek, and you make your way back to your drums, deciding to talk to her privately about it later.
you take no notice of how hot your cheeks felt, and you certainly pretend that you're unaware of yunjin's stares.
Tumblr media
"I can't keep covering for you, yunjin," you mumble, patting gently at the cut on her cheek. she lets out a pained whine as you do so, but you don't let up.
yunjin doesn't say anything at first, not when you're in such a...compromising position.
'is this on purpose?' she thinks, because between you straddling her lap and treating her stinging wounds, it's either the pain or how horredously down bad she is that's making her this dizzy.
and your face was terribly close. she swallows, not making direct eye contact with you.
"hey," your lips curl into a small smirk, and yunjin makes the mistake of looking up. her cheeks immediately color when her gaze locks with yours, "you've been uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal with me today."
you bandage her cheek carefully, then moving on to the small gash on her stomach.
"may I?"
her cheeks burn with embarrassment as she lifts up her own shirt for you, and you roll your eyes playfully at how dramatic she's being. you feel her squeeze your arm when you disinfect it, with you biting your lower lip in concentration.
"is this really necessary?" she finally gathers the courage to ask, and she gestures to you sitting on her lap as though it wasn't your first time.
"why?" you whisper, finishing up the first-aid, the tip of your nose touching hers, "does it bother you, spiderwoman?
and yunjin tries. she tries her absolute hardest not to give in, because she wonders if this was all a game to you. she wonders if yesterday night had happened at all.
yunjin doesn't know why you're so calm when she had just saved your life.
she had thought that after the shock of almost being burgled, you'd be shaking like every other person would be. but instead, here you were, sitting on the edge of your fire escape, offering her half your sandwich.
she's hanging upside down, her mask only lifted high enough for her lips to be visible as she quietly accepts the food after you refused to take back your offer.
"can i ask you a question?"
yunjin nods slowly, "go ahead."
"are you always this caring towards the people you save?"
she's caught off-guard by the question and grateful that the mask was hiding her flustered expression.
"...i don't know what you mean."
you raise an eyebrow, a shit-eating grin on your face, though it did look a little strange for her from this angle, "really? well, do you bring every single one of them home? and stay a while? do you somehow know all their addresses? are you secretly a stalker?"
yunjin rolls her eyes underneath her mask, but her heart is racing. were you implying that you knew it was her?
knowing she wasn't sure of what to say, you lean closer to her masked face, and yunjin swears that she hears your breathing get slightly shaky.
"jennifer," you whisper, relishing in the way she tenses up visibly, "you know you're terrible at hiding things and how you're feeling, right?"
the last bit of sandwich she has in her hand drops, and she catches it with her web and a small yelp, making you giggle. her jaw hangs open and she racks her head, thinking how she could save this.
but, she knows, if there is any chance of anyone ever knowing about her secret, it would be you.
"how did you know?" she manages to say, her lips pursing.
"let's just say you're pretty obvious," you say, "at least, to me. and in more than one way."
"your voice, your mannerisms, and the subtle hints..."
yunjin finds herself staring at your lips. 'oh my god,' she thinks, mentally facepalming, 'is this really the best time to be dreaming about kissing her, huh yunjin?'
"wait, what?" oh. how articulate.
you let out a soft laugh at her dumbfounded tone, and she finds herself moving closer, and closer.
"if you already know who i am," you can feel her warm breath on your lips, "and you know how i feel, then, what are you going to do about it?"
"i can think of something," you say, staring at her lips, and she finally closes the gap, her lips hesitantly brushing against yours, before you cup her cheeks with your hands and you pull her close.
god, an upside down kiss. she could literally die happy now.
she could hardly register what's happening before you pull away. her lips chase yours, but you only giggle before gently pulling her mask off. there she is, the person who's been plaguing your daydreams.
"wanna come in and talk?"
"...more kisses?"
"mhm, if we talk."
"deal."
unfortunately, your roommate had called from inside, and she immediately pulls her mask back on. you're just about to apologise, but she shakes her head.
"tomorrow?" she asks, hopefully.
you pull her mask down again, just enough to give her one last kiss. she's almost afraid the web that's holding her up will break from how weak every part of her is feeling right now.
"tomorrow."
well, tomorrow was here. and fuck, she wants to kiss you again.
"wait," yunjin presses her index finger to your lips, "you promised we'd talk."
"right," you smile, opting for a kiss on her forehead instead, and she can feel the gears in her head screeching at this point, "sorry, you just look extremely kissable."
yunjin's hands settle hesitantly on your hips while your arms wrap around her neck, "what do you wanna talk about?"
"first of all," yunjin tilts her head, "what are we?"
"whatever you want," you tease, making her pout, to which you giggle, "okay, okay."
"jennifer huh," you say in a more serious voice, somehow making her posture straighten. you lean your forehead on hers, your voice laced with lovesick undertones that makes her heart melt, "i want to be your girlfriend."
yunjin can't stop herself from grinning.
"again."
"what?" you pull back a little to see her entire face. she looks happy. you love when she's happy.
"say it again," yunjin whispers breathlessly, her hand reaching up to cup the side of your face, her thumb brushing against your lips, "please."
"huh yunijn," your head feels fuzzy, but you nod as you humour her, shivering when her other hand starts playing with the hem of your shirt, "i want to be your girlfriend. that is, if you wa-"
she doesn't allow you to finish her sentence before she presses her lips to yours, making a surprised sound leave your throat. your hands tangle in her hair, and when you pull a little, you feel giddy when she whines softly.
this time, she pulls away first, but you don't chase her lips. you don't have to, anyway.
yunjin clears her throat, her blush getting redder as she gives a indifferent shrug, "sure, sure. yeah, that sounds good."
you scoff, slapping her shoulder playfully.
"okay! okay, i'm sorry, babe," yunjin pouts, and it's honestly terrifying how much of an effect she has on you already.
also. woah. babe. you're mentally giggling and kicking your feet at this point. not that you're ever gonna let her know.
"i want to be your girlfriend too," she kisses your cheek, "but, you do know what comes along with being spiderwoman's girlfriend, don't you?"
"enlighten me!"
"i mean, i'm somehow always in trouble, which means you could get into trouble, and it can and will be dangerous, and oh god, i wonder if we should even-"
"nuh uh," you interrupt, using your hand to cover her mouth.
her eyebrows furrow as she lets out muffled complaints, and you tsk at her, "you've already saved me once, jen. i'd trust you with my life. i've got your back and you have mine."
yunjin takes your hand off her mouth and she sighs in defeat, nodding, "you're right."
"aren't i always?" you question in faux offense and she snorts in return, looking at you with so much fondness that it made your heart ache.
she nuzzles her face into your neck and pulls you closer, "it means a lot, you know."
"i know."
Tumblr media
"babe, please tell me you're almost here 🧍‍♀️"
you stand outside your home, weaving your hand through your hair, waiting for her reply. you look away from your phone and up at the sky, the blue appearing especially pretty today. then, suddenly, you see a small, dark-suited figure flying through the same sky.
you think you're hallucinating until you see the mask up close, and your eyes widen comically when your girlfriend swoops by and picks you up smoothly by your waist with one arm, her other one preoccupied with webbing. other than the deafening whistle of the air as you shot up, you hear her breathless, excited voice, "hi, babe!"
"y-yunjin!" you yelp when your legs almost land on top of a random car in traffic, "this is not what i meant by picking me up for practice!"
spiderwoman only laughs, fleeting and free, amd your breath hitches in your throat.
ah, fuck.
you bury your face in her neck, focusing on how warm and secure her arm felt around your waist instead.
"you owe me for putting me through this!"
"aw, come on! now, be honest, would you give this ride a 5 star rating?"
"yunjin!"
2K notes · View notes
onlybeeewrites · 5 months
Text
The Valley Song
Tumblr media
Requested: nope, I just wanted to write this
TW: just Coriolanus’ being himself.
Pairing: possible Coriolanus x reader, Sejanus x reader, Lucy gray x platonic!reader
Authors note: Listen to this for the story. I imagine this is what the reader sounds like when singing <3, I’m also changing the lore a little to the reader wrote the valley song to fit the story :)
The Valley Song Series: Part 2 -> Part 3
The Hob was filled with people as usual. The crowd of people made the heat even more unbearable, but everyone arrived to hear the Covey preform as always. The summer heat caused sweat to drip down everyone’s faces, but no one seemed to mind as they awaited the Covery to preform.
Drinks were being passed sound eagerly as the members of the district awaited the sound of the music and voices that allowed them to escape just for a few hours.
Coriolanus Snow stood towards the back of the Hob, Sejanus by his side as they spoke to his bunkmates, what were their names? Smiley and Bug. Such stupid names, Coriolanus thought he to himself as he leaned against the back, unsecured wall of the hob.
It wasn’t always his first idea of what to do in their night off, but then again they were in District Twelve…there wasn’t much to do to begin with.
Coriolanus’ attention was turned back to the stage as eager whoops and applause filled the Hob as Lucy Gray and the rest of the Covey made their way on stage.
With their clothes and make up, the girls had flowers entangled in their hair. It made it seem like they had rolled around in a field before coming up on stage. It was intriguing, but very much district, and it made Coriolanus internally scowl.
The covey continued to play for a few hours, rotating songs and singers. Giving each other a break, Maude Ivory sang for a while before Lucy Gray returned. Of course she held the audience in a captivated gaze at the sound of her voice.
Coriolanus and the other off duty peacekeepers were no exception as she twirled around the stage with her black guitar in hand. It was a sight, certainly one that would make her plenty of money if she came with him back to the capital. She would make a pretty capital girl, once she was cleaned up and better fed at least, Coriolanus thought.
The end of the night was winding down, and everyone was exhausted from the dancing over the last few hours. Lucy Gray panted softly before approaching the microphone once more.
“District Twelve ya’ll have been amazing as always,” she said with the biggest grin, like it was a privilege to be preforming at the Hob in the lowest district in Panem.
“And just before we go for the night we got a special treat. My cousin Y/N Rose Baird! She got an awful special song for y’all tonight to finish us off.. y/n!” Lucy gray turned and beckoned her cousin up front.
A girl, maybe not much older than Lucy Gray, maybe a year or two stepped up wearing a pink blouse and off white skirt, her hair was done half up, help of what looked like baby’s breath through her hair.
Coriolanus’ eyes widened a bit at the side of her, the soft rouge on her cheeks and pink on her lips. It was soft. Not harsh make up like Lucy gray had worn, but very little.
“Oh wow…” he heard Sejanus’ voice beside him, and for a moment he had completely forgotten he was there, “she’s beautiful,”
Sejanus was right though. This Y/N Rose was beautiful. Even from the way that she held the old brown guitar in her hands, everything about her intrigued him. The softness in her eyes and expression. Glancing around the room, he felt a hot jealously spring through him as he saw many of the other men looking at her the same way.
They didn’t deserve to look at you that way. You were too gentle, too soft and vulnerable. He could tell by just looking at you. The shy way you were glancing around the room. You preferred the background, and he liked that.
Lucy gray was always upfront, bold. Abrasive. But that wasn’t you. You weren’t like your cousin, who had killed in the games, you would never hurt anyone. And you needed protecting. He could do that.
“Thank y’all for comin’” Y/N’s voice rang into the microphone and he couldn’t help but stare. In the corner of his eye he could see Sejanus almost making heart eyes.
“This is a song I wrote a little while ago. Lost someone as we all have. Hope y’all like it,” she said nervously before she gently began to strum the guitar in her hands. One note after another. Then she began to sing.
“Down in the valley, valley so low,
Late in the evening, hear the train blow.
The train, love, hear the train blow.
Late in the evening, hear the train blow.”
Coriolanus felt like he was in a trance as she began to sing. Her voice was soft and airy, almost shy. It was so different to Lucy Gray. Though his mind snapped out of his thoughts as Lucy Gray found her way over to him with a grin.
“Hi! Good ain’t she?” She asked happily, rather proud of her cousin.
“Good isn’t the word for it,” Sejanus said, his cheek flushing a bit as he looked from Lucy Gray back to the stage.
Coriolanus cleared his throat, “yes, she’s quite good. But most of the Covey is,” he said, listening as Y/N continued.
“Go build me a mansion, build it so high,
So I can see my true love go by.
See him go by, love, see him go by.
So I can see my true love go by.”
“She was always shyer than most,” Lucy Gray said, “prefers the background. But I couldn’t let her not sing this one,” she said, and it make Coriolanus think….who was it about? Was this recent?
“Go write a letter, send it by mail.
Bake it and stamp it to the Capitol jail.
Capitol jail, love, to the Capitol jail.”
“Who is it about?” Coriolanus asked, he couldn’t help himself.
Lucy gray let out a small sigh, “someone she was with about a year ago. He was the bakers son. Honestly I never seen someone so smitten before,” she said fondly, remembering how Y/N was with the boy before shaking her head,
“but he got himself into some bad trouble with the peacekeepers. Attempted to bribe one of the commanders. They thought he was all involved with the rebels and then he was sent off to the capital jail. Never seen someone so heart broken before.” Lucy gray shook her head, her messy black curls moving as she did so.
“But anyway, she wrote this a while ago. But just finished coming up with the music. I think it’s a hit with the district. Many people lost a lot of loved ones. For things like stealing and illegal trading,” she finished explaining.
“Roses are red, love; violets are blue.
Birds in the heavens know I love you.
Know I love you, oh, know I love you,
Birds in the heavens know I love you.”
Coriolanus’ head snapped back as she continued to sing the last verses of her song. It reminded him of his mother, she would sing those same lines to him. And it made his stomach flutter. Nerves? Anxiety? He couldn’t tell.
Sejanus cleared his throat, “Lucy Gray….do you think you could introduce us?” He asked hopefully, and Lucy Gray gave a knowing grin.
“Why of course. Once the crowd clears,” Lucy Gray said.
Coriolanus couldn’t help but internally scoff at Sejanus. What could he do for a sweet shy girl like you? Sejanus was just as weak. You needed someone to protect you, who knew better. Sejanus couldn’t do that to you. But Coriolanus could. And he wouldn’t lose to someone like Sejanus.
His pale eyes moved from Sejanus as the crowd erupted into applause, and watched as Y/N gave a bashful smile and a cute little bow.
Yes.
He couldn’t lose you to anyone.
531 notes · View notes