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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

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YANDERE! BATFAM W/ MILES MORALES (BUT MAKE IT GENDER NEUTRAL)! READER

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] [PREVIOUS CHAPTER ]

GENERAL CW/TW: Spoilers for Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse. Typical Yandere themes of stalking, violence, and whatnot.

PART SPECIFIC CW/TW: Soft, awfully wholesome scene with your father. Like seriously it’s like the third time I watched the whole movie but this particular scene still breaks me

current status: unedited

summary: you get replaced by peter last minute as the one that plugs in the goober. but you won’t let that happen. not when he still has a whole life to get back to.

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WHAT’S UP DANGER

( PART FOUR )

“Aye, Getting old they doubted us, makes it that more marvelous. Sign ‘em up cause I’m on this vibes and I get synonymous.

What’s up, danger?

Aye, don’t be a stranger!”

Look, because of the Spiderman: Miles Morales game I’m a bit biased.

I don’t want uncle Aaron to die damn it. But yeah the Prowler does exist and you have been keeping contact with him.

But for the sake of keeping the dude alive though he’ll only physically come in act 2 of this series, we gucci?

Although this means you lose a lot of the development Miles gets from his death. I’ll try my best to make the events as natural as possible

Anyways, you come back to the spider gang hanging out at Jason and Roy’s apartment.

The gang essentially jumpscares you (thank god for spider sense) with a suit of your own.

Except it was one size too big.

And there were holes at the eye sockets for you to actually see through.

“Ehrm . . . Thanks ?”

“You don’t gotta pretend you like it, kid.”

“Ahaha…”

“It’ll fit eventually.”

You begin sweating quite a bit. Something felt so off here.

You notice that Jason was looking straight at you.

Which I mean, anyone would be m e l t i n g if someone like Red Hood was staring right at them so it’s a miracle you aren’t a puddle at the moment.

Perhaps it’s cause you spent so much time with your crush, Gwen, that you’ve pretty much gotten used to hot people looking at you directly.

Still, you turn away and hide your face. Utterly clueless as to how react in this type of situation.

The relatively peaceful circumstance doesn’t last long as everyone’s spider sense is alerted and the door bell rings. A mechanical tentacle shoots through the lock, completely shattering it.

“Cute place. Real homey.”

Oh great, it’s Liv.

“Get out of here, kid.”

“For the last time I’m a legal adult—“

“Mira todas estas arañitas. (Well, look at these little spiders.)”

Two more of Kingpin’s men show up, Tombstone and Scorpion.

God, fucking damn it—

Olivia spots the new flashdrive Peni made around Peter’s neck and grins.

“Oh, I think I’ll be taking that.”

You hold in your attraction to the woman and duck as a fight ensues.

Scorpion takes notice of you.

“Niñito dale. (Go ahead, little one.)”

“Prepárate a morir (Prepare to die) — Ah, man stupid pillows!”

Before you could get your body bashed in by the cyborg, Red Hood takes a shot his tail just in time.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah.”

Your spider senses were all over the place just like with Damian. What is it with black haired hot guys and their danger levels-

You manage to slip away, flashdrive in hand, courtesy of invisibility finally working in your favor.

“All vehicles in the area we have a disturbance involving multiple spider . . . people ?”

“On my way.”

Dick wasn’t the type to spend Christmas in Gotham.

But the tone of his brother’s voice — how broken and desperate it was — alarmed him.

It seemed that his baby brother finally fell in love.

It was about time really.

Although he was terribly curious as to who the person the Damian Wayne had fallen for.

You couldn’t just be a normal student from school right?

He finds around the scene looking terrified and scared.

A perfect opportunity to get to know you a little better.

“You alright there citizen?”

“Huh? Yeah I’m fine.”

“You seem pretty calm despite being in a police car and all.”

“My dad’s a cop. He gives me rides in one plenty of times.”

“Jefferson Davis, right?”

“You know him?”

“Well, it’s hard not knowing the guy who’s been looking all over for you. He spread the news to several police departments.”

“That . . . sounds a lot like him . . . “

“You don’t have to worry. I won’t tell him where you are. You need some space, right?”

“Right.”

Nothing outstanding so far. You were cute albeit awkward. But he could see that you were going through things at the moment. Early adulthood is a bitch after all.

You kept quiet most of the ride.

You were so distracted that you didn’t even question how he knew what school you went to and the location of your dorms.

“Hey, I’m a little curious, why don’t you have his last name? Family problems?”

“No, it’s something with my grandfather. I don’t think it’s within my place to share.”

“Well alright.”

You two arrive at your dormitory and you make sure to give the place a good old scan just in case you were getting followed.

“I’ll see ya when I see ya, [Y/N]. Give me a call if you ever need help.”

“Got ya.”

You realize that you don’t even know the man’s name much less a way to contact him.

But as you look back, the car he was in had already driven away.

Time wasn’t going to wait for you.

You knew that. You were trying your darn hardest to chase after it.

But you weren’t fast enough.

“[Y/N]. We came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye? We can say goodbye at the collider.”

“You’re not getting it. You’re staying here.”

“I need to be there, so you can all go home.”

“They are going home [Y/N]. I’m the only one staying.”

“You’re taking my place.”

Your voice trembled as you say those words. And unbeknownst to you, Jason (and to be fair the rest of the spider-people are out there eavesdropping too) shivered as he heard your words.

“If you stay here you’ll die.”

“I’m doing what needs to be done. I just wanted you to hear it from me.”

“What about MJ?”

“Not everything works out, kid. I need the goober.”

“That’s not fair! You gotta tell them I can do this.”

It took Jason all his might to not reach out and embrace you.

He knew how it felt to be replaced. Circumstances differ but still, a connection was made.

Although he couldn’t be there for you now as you had to grow into the Spiderman you had to be, he promised to himself that he will in the future.

After all, if you two were partners in another universe, what stops it from happening in this one as well?

“It wasn’t their decision.”

“I’m ready, I promise— ah—!”

Peter knocks you down, jumping to the ceiling and dangling you by a web.

Jason clenched his teeth. As much as this man knew so much about him and his vulnerabilities, and how he knew this was completely necessary it still ached to see his destined partner getting thrown around.

“Then venom strike me right now or turn invisible on command so you can get past me.”

Peter webs your entire body and sticks you to the chair your roommate always used.

“Look I know how much you want this kid. But you don’t have it yet. I’m sorry.”

“When will I know I’m ready?!”

He then webs your mouth and takes the goober from your hands.

“You won’t. It’s a leap of faith. That’s all it is [Y/N]. A leap of faith.”

And you’re left alone, stuck with webs all over your body. Unable to move or talk.

You hear a knock to your door.

“[Y/N]. . . ! Uh . . . [Y/N] it’s your dad. Please open the door.”

Unfortunately you couldn’t so you just use thrust your body closer to him.

“[Y/N] I can see your shadow moving around.”

“Yeah okay I get it. I get it yes… still ignoring me. Look can we talk for a minute?”

You nod. Internally facepalming after realizing he can’t see you doing so.

“Look sometimes people drift apart [Y/N] and I don’t want that to happen to us, okay? I know I don’t always do what you need me to do or say what you need me to say but I’m…”

“But I see this - this — spark in you, it’s - it’s amazing. It’s why I push you but . . . it’s yours and whatever you choose to do with it you’d be great.”

You feel tears falling from your face as your father spoke.

All those days feeling the pressure of everyone’s expectations on you

As [Y/N], as the Spiderman of this universe.

You were an adult in age, yes. But in the face of all these events your youth and inexperience slapped you in your face.

You wanted to run away. You wanted everything to be over and done with.

But you realize, you were the only one who could do this. For the sake of the spider-gang. For Gotham.

You didn’t know if you were going to succeed but wasn’t that what life was?

A leap of faith.

“Look, call me when you can.”

“I love you. You don’t have to say it back though.”

And your father leaves.

You close your eyes. Thinking back to all the moments you’ve failed, all the times you’ve broken a bone or two trying to learn.

Time wasn’t going to wait for you. But why run after it when you can web-sling it up?

You use your venom powers to get rid of the webs and do you best to get to Jason’s place. He had to have an extra, better suit lying around right? Anything was better than what the gang gave you.

You ring the bell to his house completely expecting him to not be there and potentially having to break in.

But you stand corrected.

“Took you long enough.”

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daisies-and-domming · 2 years

Note

Hey!! Would you do a sub!billy hargrove/dom!reader smut? Thank u <3

Boy Next Door (NSFW)

S3 spoilers in my author’s note, and vague reference to how S2 ends!!

Summary: You’ve lived in the trailer park nearly your entire life, long enough to know that nothing in Hawkins was ever normal. So when the new king of the school starts dropping by your trailer at ungodly hours, you don’t even blink - why would you? Weirder shit’s happened here, and you’re certainly not complaining either, not when the king decides to get on his knees for you.

Warnings: swearing, smut, dom!reader, reader has an undefined hole, p in said undefined hole, sub!billy, oral (reader receiving), frottage(?), edging, praise, little bits of degradation (reader calls billy “slut” and talks condescendingly at some points), unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it kids!!), a lil bit of a breeding kink, billy likes when reader pulls on his hair <3

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

Oh my god anon I didn’t know I needed sub!billy until you sent this in and now I’m scouring the website for more… I’m a whore for subby men, what can I say 🤷 He’s a little ooc but I firmly believe that billy is secretly a soft with people he trusts - sure, he’s mean to max, but I think that’s because he doesn’t want her involved in his life of alcohol and flirting - and I’ll die on that hill. This is set between S2 and S3, but in my universe billy doesn’t die during S3 anyways because I’m the author and I said so >:O Anyways, I had so much fun writing this, thank you for the request!! It takes like 1000 words to get to the smut, I’m so sorry ;-; But the smut is like 2000 some words, so hopefully that makes up for it ahaha I went batshit

– – –

You’ve lived in this dinghy trailer park in the middle of nowhere, Indiana, your entire conscious life. When your parents were really drunk (which, in all honesty, was far more often than you were willing to admit) they would talk about their “golden days”: when your parents were something other than full-time alcoholics, living in the suburbs of Cleveland in a nice neighbourhood. You were told you were born there, in that nice suburb house near the coast of one of the great lakes, but you’ve never had the nerve to ask what happened that landed them here, in Hawkins.

But Ohio was none of your concern now. There were supernatural beings practically on your doorstep and the only people that seemed to care were the children that your friend Steve seemingly adopted, which would make for a good movie. But the fact that a ragtag bunch of kids were the ones saving your very real world left a nauseating pit in your stomach. Sure, the angry buzz cut kid who they called “Eleven” put an end to the last thing that came after Hawkins, but something tells you this was just the beginning. No matter. At the moment, you had bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that there’s a soft knocking on your door, despite the little analog clock reading a blinking “2:34am”.

Peering through the peephole, a clearly drunk Billy Hargrove stood, wobbling slightly. You’d seen him around school - it’s hard not to when he drives a flashy car and insists on poking at Steve - but certainly hadn’t spoken to him before. Opening the door slightly, you make eye contact with the man in question.

“Hi,” you say, tentatively. “Can I help you?”

“l/n!!” he slurs, eyes lighting up. “What’re y’doin in my trailer?”

You frown at him. “This is where I live, dipshit. Your trailer is more than a few down.”

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” he said, nudging at you. “Lemme in, will ya?”

You stood firm, skeptical. “Why should I?”

“Because,” he drawls. “You’re pretty, I’m pretty, we should do pretty people stuff together.”

You snort, but move to the side. You didn’t know what his home life was like, but, nevertheless, sending him away in the middle of the night, piss drunk, was dumb. If he had gotten hurt on the way back to his trailer because you had sent him away you would never forgive yourself. Sure, he seemed like a pretentious douchebag, but even pretentious douchebags deserve a chance. Besides, the ‘rents were out, which meant there wouldn’t be any “did you use protection?” or “you aren’t pregnant, are you?” questions the following morning.

“l/n,” Billy whined out, making you turn in time to see him flop onto your couch. “Why aren’t we doin’ pretty people stuff yet?”

You shut and lock the door, plopping yourself down on the floor in front of the couch in an attempt to set an unspoken boundary. “Because you’re drunk. You’re welcome to come over here sober some time and try this whole song and dance then, but I believe in full consent when doin’ that tango. You’re inebriated, so no ‘pretty people stuff’ for you tonight.”

He whined dramatically. “But that’s half the fun of getting drunk!!”

“God, you’re really drunk,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the smell. “We can talk if you want, but you’re not getting any tonight, lover boy.”

“Ooooh, you wanna hear about the crazy shit that Tina did at the party today??” – – –

This became a recurring event. Billy would go out and party, then come over, drunk out of his mind and strangely soft. You had learned a lot about him - about Max (who he seemed to truly care about, despite how he acted when sober), about his dickhead father, about his mother, about why he drowned himself in people and alcohol all the time. You weren’t sure why he chose to keep dropping by, but you weren’t too perturbed. In any other situation, you might even consider him your friend. But, you remind yourself, he’s always drunk or high or some combination of the two. You don’t make friends when you’re drunk. And you certainly don’t fall for them, either.

A knock resonated at your door and you froze, staring at the clock. It was 3:24pm on a Saturday afternoon, unless Steve had decided to give you a surprise visit there should be no one at the door.

“l/n! Open the goddamn door,” a voice rang out, one that you recognized immediately. “I don’t have all goddamn day!”

You stumble to the door, opening it embarrassingly quickly. “Hi???”

“Hey,” he said, shoving his way past you.

“Wait wait wait,” you said, spinning around to him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What I normally do, dickbag,” Billy said, refusing to make eye contact. “We gonna talk or what?”

You close the door gently, clicking the lock almost tentatively. “You’re sober.”

A flash of hurt crossed his face, but he quickly covered it up. “Am I not allowed to be?”

“That - that’s not what I’m saying!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I just - I kinda figured you didn’t want to talk to me, normally. I’m not exactly your usual crowd.”

He groaned, running a hand over his face. “Look - how do I say this? I… don’t think you’re that shitty, or whatever. Sure, Tina’s a hot piece of ass, but if I tried to actually, I don’t fucking know, talk to her, she’d just laugh and tell me to ‘shut up’ or somethin’.”

“I don’t think you’re that shitty, either,” you say, slowly. “Is that all you wanted to talk about…? We could’ve done this on the porch.”

“It’s a trailer, there’s no goddamn porch,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes but still not making eye contact with you.

“You’re dodging,” you say, walking over to him and crowding him a bit. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“I don’t want to go back home,” he said bluntly, still dodging your prying eyes. “Deadbeat dad is on a rampage again. Dropped Max off at the arcade and found myself here.”

You blink up at him and back up a bit, feeling awful for prying. “Shit man - sorry I pushed you. You’re welcome here whenever you want to escape your place, sober or not. Or if you just want to come over. You can bring Max, too, she seems nice!! My ‘rents are never around, like ever, and even when they are they’re drunk and hiding in their room, and there’s a key under the doormat in the back if you need an escape and I’m not here - though I’d be careful about my parents, they get pretty drunk sometimes too, it’s not pretty. That’s not the point though! Point is, you’re always welcome, I’m sorry for prying-”

He pushed you to the couch, a small smile on his face, and were his eyes a little teary?? “Shut up, loser. I got it, I’m welcome to be here. Not shocked, though, people love me, of course you’d want me around.”

You roll your eyes at his smirk, trying to tug him down to the couch. However, you hadn’t anticipated him resisting, and your knee jerk reaction was to just yank. He stumbled and landed on top of you, knees straddling your legs. He blinks at you, owlishly, face flushed and pupils beginning to dilate.

You grin up at him, jokingly winking. “Just where I wanted you, baby.”

“Can I- can I take you up on your previous offer?” he said, voice lacking its usual bravado and confidence.

“Previous offer as in…?”

“Sex,” he said, straightforward. “You said if I was sober we could fuck.”

“What eloquence, Mr. Hargrove,” you said. “And I believe we referred to it as ‘pretty people stuff.’”

“That’s a yes, yeah?” he said, hands resting on the couch on either side of your head.

“Aw, look at you, asking for consent,” you said, grinning up at him deviously. “Mmm…maybe if you beg me.”

He looked at you, incredulous. “If you think I’ll ever beg for something, you’ve got something coming-”

You cut him off, pulling him down into a harsh kiss. He groaned into the kiss, grinding down into your clothed sex. When he pulls away, he smirks down at you, cocky.

“You’re going to be the one begging for me, babe,” he said, head tilting. “So how ‘bout we hear it, hm?”

Well that wouldn’t do. Using all your strength, you flip your positions, grinding down on him once you’ve settled above him.

“If we’re doing this, baby boy,” you said, sultry. “We’re doing this my way, got it?”

You could see the struggle in his eyes, and began to grind down on him lightly.

“Come on, sweet thing,” you murmured against his lips, rolling your hips in a way that had his eyes rolling back. “You can be good for me, can’t you?”

“Mm- yeah, yes, I can be good for you,” he groaned. “Now get on with it, will you?”

You frown at him, faux pouting. “Thought you were gonna be good. But that’s fine, we can play that game, I don’t mind.”

He opened his mouth to object but was cut off when your grinding turned harsh and fast, his words turning into a breathy moan. He slapped a hand over his mouth but you weren’t having it.

“Listen here, Hargrove,” you growled. “You’re going to let me hear those pretty little sounds or you’re not going to come. Understand?”

“No way in hell-”

You reach a hand down to his straining cock and squeeze, hard, revelling in the way his head rolls back and his hips jerk up into your hand. His mouth opens and closes uselessly, and you lean your weight onto your knees so you can shove your fingers that aren’t cradling his cock right down his throat. He gags, eyes glazed and unfocused.

“God, look at you,” you groan, voice strained. “Made for this, made for me to use, huh?”

He tries to respond but all that comes out are choked moans, drool dribbling down his chin as he gags on your fingers. You other hand kickstarts, rubbing him not-so-nicely through his pants. He looked gorgeous like this: choking on your fingers, eyes unfocused, hips bucking uncontrollably into your harsh touches. God, you just want to drown yourself in the feeling of the power you had over this man, this man who insisted on so much control in his everyday life. But here he was, on your couch, gagging on your fingers like he never wanted anything else.

His bucking gets more erratic and his breaths get shorter, signalling an incoming orgasm. You paw at his cock a little harder, removing your fingers from down his throat so you could hear him when you tear his orgasm away from him.

“You wanna cum, baby?” you coo, letting your hips take over for your hand and grinding down on his clothed erection. “Wanna cum for me?”

“Yeah - gonna cum, gonna cum, let me cum-”

“No.”

His hips jolt upwards as you lift yourself from his lap, chasing after your heat. You smirk sadistically at him, chuckling at the glare he gives you in exchange for your denial.

“What the fuck?!” he yells, hands clenching at his sides (but not moving to change his predicament, you noted). “I was so fucking close, why would you-”

You put a finger on his lips, shushing him. “You were a brat earlier, so I’m treating you like one. Maybe if you get me off I will consider letting you come.”

“Yeah?” he said, still panting from his lost orgasm. “Yeah, I can fuckin’ do that.”

“Good,” you say, getting up. “Get on your knees in front of the couch.”

He snorted at first, but his face contorted when he realised you were serious. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? You’re not going to get me on my knees, sweetheart.”

“Then you’re not going to cum,” you said matter-of-factly. “Eat me out on your knees like the little slut you are or you don’t get to cum.”

His nose scrunched up angrily but he moved to get down in front of the couch. “There. That make your sick little heart happy?”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a mouthy brat we wouldn’t be here in the first place,” you said, discarding your pants and undergarments god knows where. “Don’t touch without permission, m’kay?”

He growled but kept his hands obediently at his side. In spite of all his back talk, Billy didn’t ever make a move to take control. He wants this, you realise, but he doesn’t want to admit it.

“How cute,” you coo, pinching his cheek as you settle yourself in front of him. “Now eat me out - no hands though, baby. Just put your pretty little mouth to better use for me, mhm?”

He begrudgingly folds his hands behind his back and buries himself in your hole. Your head rolls back, a low groan escaping your mouth. If he wasn’t drowning himself in you he might see your composure slipping, but he seemed just as out of it as you. Hips jerking up into nothing, hands clasped behind his back, face red and teary, Billy looked like so fucking good that you felt yourself clenching around his tongue, rolling your hips into his lapping.

“God… so good with that tongue, baby, shit - keep doing that, y-yeah, just like that,” you blabber out, a hand flying to grip at his hair. You give an experimental tug and grin when he moans, breathy and high.

“Y-yeah? You want me to tug on your - ngh - hair? Shove you deeper into me?” you say, chuckling lowly when he nods into you. “Your wish is my command, sweet thing.”

You could feel your orgasm drawing nearer as Billy’s talented tongue ruined your insides. His movements were precise, even without the use of his hands, and when he nicked your sweet spot you came, clamping your thighs around his head as you tugged harshly on his hair.

Panting, you try to regain enough composure to address Billy. “God, sweetheart, your so fucking good with your tongue.”

“Yeah?” he said, tone cocky despite the straining bulge in his jeans. “You gonna let me use you now? I know you want it darlin’, you can’t keep pretending to have contr - mph!”

You yanked him up in a kiss, effectively shutting him up. Your legs were a little shaky from your previous orgasm but you were stubborn: there’s no way in hell after all this you would give Billy the satisfaction of fucking into you.

“Get on the goddamn couch,” you said, panting as you pulled away. “I’m going to ride you until all you can think of is me.”

“Fuck, pretty thing,” he groans, dropping onto the couch. “You better hold true to that or I might have to take over.”

“If you think you have a say in how this goes you’re dead wrong,” you said, straddling his hips. “You don’t cum until I say, got it baby?”

“Easy peasy,” he said, ever the fucking brat. “Think you can hold it sweets? Because I can guarantee that you’ll be creaming around my cock in no time.”

“Mhm,” you murmur, unimpressed as you help him wiggle out of his jeans and underwear. “Whatever you need to help you sleep at night.”

“You scared you can’t take it - shit!” he moans, cock twitching as you sink down on him in one slide. “Fuck, you gotta give a man a warning-”

You don’t. Bouncing up and down on his cock at a harsh pace, your trailer is filled with the lewd sound of skin slapping skin. You’re sure the neighbours can tell what you two are doing - hell, the whole trailer park probably knew - but you didn’t have the heart to care. His cock stretched you wide, so goddamn girthy that every bounce had white bouncing at the edge of your vision.

Billy wasn’t much better. He had a death grip on your hips, finger-shaped bruises already forming. Tongue sticking out, eye half-lidded and staring up at you reverently, Billy was a fucked out mess already and you’d just started.

“Mmngh, feelin’ good, pretty boy? God… just look at you, takin’ - ungh - t-takin’ it so goddamn well, shit,” you said, still slamming yourself down on his cock like your life depended on it.

“Mmm, fuck, please, please please please-”

You couldn’t even tell what he was begging for anymore. “What do you - ngh - what do you need, babe - fuck, just like that pretty thing - huh? Got to be specific, darlin’ - god…”

“Cum,” he moans out, eyes shut tightly as he bucks into you. “Need t’ fuckin’ cum!”

You clench around him as he bucks, eyes rolling back a bit. “Ngh, yeah? You wanna cum? Wanna fill my pretty little hole - ahn, do that again, jesus - fill my pretty little hole with your cum?”

“Yeah, shit. Gonna let me?”

“Mhmm, I don’t know…” you said, pretending to ponder like you weren’t desperate to feel him fill you up. “Have you been - jesus fucking christ - have you been good?”

“‘ve been good!!” he wails, eyes teary as he stares up at you. “Been so good, such a good boy, please let me cum, please, jus’ wanna be you good boy, please please please!”

Your eyes roll back. Fuck, you hadn’t expected him to beg in return. Slowing down a bit, your bounces send him slow and deep, causing you to clench. His eyes cross and his grip on the couch turns his knuckles white, trying so goddamn hard to hold himself back.

“You can cum,” you groan, his cock rutting against your sweet spot just right. “You can cum, baby, cum with me, want you to cum with me-”

Your vision goes white and you clench, gripping his cock harshly. He near screams, fucking himself up into you as he came. You both melt into each other, a panting, post-orgasm mess tangled on the couch. When your brain was finally back online, you winch, gently sliding his softened cock out of you.

“Fuck, really did a number on me,” Billy murmured, ragdolled on the couch looking like he never wanted to move. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Fuck off, Hargrove,” you say, trying your best to walk (or waddle, rather) your way to the kitchen to start cleaning off.

“You love me and you know it!”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a washcloth and dampening it. God, he was such a doofus. You couldn’t believe that the rest of the school considered him the king, but maybe your friendship was something special. You sure hoped so - you were certain he wasn’t just submitting himself to anyone, after all.

“Where the fuck did you go, dickhead? The great Billy Hargrove demands cuddles!”

God, he was such a dork sometimes. You snort, but make your way back to the living room, water bottle and damp washcloth in hand.

“Have patience, great Billy,” you said, handing him the water bottle before gently cleaning him up. “Great things come for those who wait.”

“Oh shut up,” he said, melting into your touch. “I didn’t come here for you to philosophise.”

“Course, course,” you say, jokingly. “Okay, all done. Let’s pick up all our shit and go to my room, yeah? Really don’t want my parents to come home and find us naked in the living room.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re boring,” he jokes, wobbly as he stands to help you grab your discarded clothes. “Half the fun is getting caught.”

“Perv,” you shot back.

“Says the one who rode me on their parents' couch.”

“Ew!! Don’t fucking say that, I don’t want to think about my parents in the afterglow!”

“You’re the one who brought them up!” “Yeah, because I don’t want them involved in my post-orgasmic haze!!” you say, exasperated. “Cmon, this way.”

Dumping your clothes unceremoniously on the floor, you lock the door and drag Billy towards your bed. Wordlessly, the two of you melt into each other. You’d worry about sneaking him out under your parents’ radar later - right now, you had much more pressing concerns.

Word Count: 3374

#stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove stranger things #dom!reader #dom reader #sub!billy #Sub billy #sub!billy hargrove #sub billy hargrove #holy fucking shit #i'm such a simp sometimes jesus

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seiya-starsniper · 10 months

Note

Could I humbly request a Dreamling 1 or 19 for the Soft™ fic prompt meme 👉👈

1. slow dancing or 19. ‘it made me think of you.’

I somehow managed to fit both prompts in here 👀 👀

Sorry for being slow about this one friendo, work’s been kicking my butt lately but hopefully this was worth it! <3

Fic could be considered a companion piece to this fill, since I'm such a sucker for weddings ahaha.

—----------------

“Please welcome the newly wedded Gadlings!”

Hob pulls Dream excitedly through the entrance to the ballroom as soon as they’re introduced. They’re both flushed with excitement (and wine from the Dreaming) as they wave at all of Hob’s friends from his current life.

The crowd for their wedding reception is sizable, not nearly as large in attendance as their wedding in the Dreaming, but still large enough to cost Hob quite a bit of money in food and alcohol. He doesn’t care. The glowing and easy smile on Dream’s face is worth far more than any worldly currency.

“And now,” the DJ announces once they’ve reached the center of the room, “it’s time for the newly wedded couple’s first dance.”

The lights dim everywhere except for where they are standing. Hob pulls his husband (his husband) flush against his own body and wraps one arm around Dream’s waist, the other settling into his open palm. They move easily together once the piano intro begins to play, and Lionel Richie’s voice echoes throughout the room.

My love There's only you in my life

“You’ve always had a strange sense of humor,” Dream says, brow raised in amusement as they sway and step easily around one another. Hob knows Dream’s body like he knows his own breath, and it is little effort for him to step back and easily maneuver Dream into a quick twirl.

“Excuse you,” Hob says with mock offense as he pulls them back together. “Endless Love is a classic wedding song.”

“Is that so?” Dream asks, eyes literally glittering with stars and mouth turned up in a challenge.

Hob nods assuredly. “It was Diana’s Ross’s best selling single,” he says, diving into his encyclopedic memory for music. Dream’s expression lights up as he continues to talk.

“Couldn’t escape this song on the radio back in the 80’s,” Hob continues. “It was nominated for a lot of awards. too. You could say it’s one of the defining songs of the decade,” he adds, then wrinkles his nose. “Film’s absolute shit though.”

“You say that about many films,” Dream notes, probably remembering the time Hob had given him a twenty minute mini-rant on the origins of Tears in Heaven. Or maybe it was Can’t Help Falling in Love. Come to think of it, most of Hob’s favorite records were tie-ins to terrible movies.

“Yes, well,” Hob shrugs before he pulls Dream closer to him. “Sometimes great music is made for shit films.”

“So I take it ‘Endless Love’ is not on the list of your ‘must see films’, then?” Dream huffs, tilting his head playfully towards Hob.

“Not even close,” Hob grins before he leans and captures Dream’s lips with his own. The crowd around them erupts in applause and cheers.

When they pull away, Hob twirls Dream once before, before he tilts the Endless backwards into a dip. Dream’s back arches beautifully, and it steals Hob’s breath for a moment before he remembers to pull Dream back up. When their bodies are pressed together once more, Hob dips his head and admits a secret against Dream’s ear.

“I also may have picked this song because I’m a sap,” he whispers, grinning as he feels Dream shudder beneath him. “It made me think of you a lot, you know.”

“Did it?” Dream asks, pulling his head back to meet Hob’s gaze.

Hob nods as he begins to mouth the next verse, his focus solely trained on Dream:

And love, I'll be a fool for you, I'm sure You know I don't mind 'Cause you, you mean the world to me

“I think I’m beginning to see the appeal,” Dream says before he kisses Hob once more.

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #the sandman #seiya drabbles #seiya writes #am I a sap for 80s and 90s love songs yes yes I am #are most of them tied to terrible movies lost to time? ALSO YES #thanks for the request friend! <3 #seiya writes dreamling

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spiritsofprogress · 9 months

Text

Muppets haunted mansion

So this came out last year and I never got around to watching it before the new movie came out, and if you haven’t seen it… do. Some of it lags but there was a lot of honest to god gut busters packed in this cute tribute/parody. It does a great job with some of its references and jokes and it’s really in the spirit ( ahaha) of both the ride and the Muppets. Here’s some of my highlights

“Please, oh, please, let them rest in peace. For once they start, they never cease” whole song is great but this line took me out

“Ah, you speak Spanish?” “ no”

“Sorry, he’s new” “I’m new”

“I hoped We’d get a bigger cameo, beaky” “meep x4” “budget”

“Pumpkin spice lattes and a vampire bat, you must look for a door with a glowing Exat” the sign literally said exat and I think I started crying

Leota sneezing in the ball.

THE DOOMBUGGY BREAKS DOWN MID SONG

“Oh me? I croaked”

Constance and her husbands, also how they’re all sort of still into her despite her killing them. Girl has one hobby and that is murder. You know what? Slay

Their use of “dancing in the moonlight” is similar to the new movies use of “superstition” where it’s absolutely perfect.

#muppets haunted mansion #the muppets #the haunted mansion #haunted mansion #disneys haunted mansion #minor spoilers #ramble #constance hatchaway #gonzo #gonzo the great #pepe the king prawn

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prince-liest · 21 days

Note

The Hannibal reference in the last snippet made me think about how as much as I want Vox and Alastor to bicker, they would probably both enjoy similar movies. Vivzie has mentioned that Alastor loves cinema and theatre, and Vox is giving filmbro mansplainer so I can totally see them being like “Ah yes, Citizen Kane.. they don’t make them like this anymore” Like they go hand in hand at some psychological drama and they don’t stop yapping and overanalysing in the salon during the entire thing, annoying everyone around them. And since you’re the one who planted that brainworm into my head I wanna hear your thoughts 👁️

Ahaha, I love that thought! I think the two of them would probably have viewpoints that generally agree with each other, but would be willing to take a stand on the smallest of hills while treating them as deep, fundamental differences in opinion. It's the kind of frustration that comes from liking the same thing, seeing the other person almost get it, but be just wrong enough that you need to correct them on their stupidity. It would honestly be less frustrating if they had bigger disagreements, but also, they snipe at each other as a hobby, so.

That said, I don't think Alastor would be rude enough to chatter over a show in public like that! It seems like the sort of thing he'd see as uncouth. Vox, on the other hand...

I also think that Vox's taste in cinema is probably more inclusive of modern cinema than Alastor's. I genuinely see him enjoying mindless action flicks and just having a great deal of appreciation for modern cinematography techniques, CGI, etc, that Alastor would find cheap and lacking in heart. If he told Alastor that Mad Max: Fury Road was all practical effects, he'd be much more likely to agree to watch it, but I still don't think he'd enjoy it very much.

I feel like their tastes would overlap just enough that Vox would end up desperately trying to win Alastor over to the types of movies that Alastor would think are middling at best, and Alastor would enjoy disappointing Vox over and over again until he figured out where Alastor's tastes actually lie, because Alastor certainly isn't going to be the one to clue him in when this way is so much more fun.

#ask #personal #Anonymous #hazbin hotel #my writing #radiostatic

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nattaphum · 1 year

Text

MILE AND APO’S INTERVIEWS FOR AWESOME!PLUS MAGAZINE

MILE PHAKPHUM

MUSIC COLUMN: LOVE SONG

George Benson - Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You

Very romantic. It's a song about how much I love you, and I can say that not only to my lover, but also to my family and friends. What I imagine is the feeling of singing to a cat in the house (laughs). I love how warm it is.

Is there anything you are looking forward to when you come to Japan?

Of course I was looking forward to working with awesome!plus. Also, i am a guitar collector, so I was looking forward to buying vintage guitars. People have good taste and keep things in good condition, so there are many second-hand items that are really good.

You originally studied music, right?

Yes. I started music when I was 22. If I hadn't been doing music, I wouldn't be where I am today, and I wouldn't be appearing in dramas. The basics of Thai culture are doing music, and that leads to theatrical performances. I also stepped into the entertainment industry because of the music. I was also making demos on guitar. The first thing I made was an acoustic pop rock.

What is important to you when making music?

I take care of it. You can't eat a guitar, so it doesn't have a taste, but you can really feel the taste of its sound. From my point of view, the guitar is very sexy. Plus, vintage guitars are made from old wood, so they smell great. It feels like wine. Furthermore, the guitar can be played in any genre. That's the biggest attraction.

Please tell us about shooting episodes of the drama "Kinn Porsche The Series"

In this work, the performers and all the staff wanted to make a good work. There are many fictional scenes but there are also many human-like lines. Everyone was seriously trying to put on the best performances in the time allotted. I called that time a magic moment. It turned out to be a really good work.

How was the reaction?

I was surprised that everyone responded so well. No matter which country I go to, I can feel everyone's feelings.

The world tour sounds like a lot of fun.

I feel really lucky that I was able to take everyone with me. It feels more like a school trip than a job (laughs). However, the other day I went to Paris by myself for work, and then I felt incredibly lonely..!

Ahaha. By the way, Apo as seen by Mile. What kind of person is he?

He's very energetic. That's what comes out. I'm the type of person who listens, so when we're together, it's really well-balanced. He surprises me a lot. I'm always trying to do my best, so I'm very happy to be able to work with him.

What kind of story are you listening to?

He says everything, such as how he felt at that time. He says anything. He will tell me everything I can understand or can’t understand. He is a person who has no secrets and will tell me everything.

Ahaha. Is there a role you would like to play in the future?

I would like to act in dark, thriller, and murderous scenes. I would also like to play a horror movie like Japan's Ju-on! I was 20 when I started to like the guitar, so I may not be very good at it, but I think it would be great if I could collaborate with Jeff this time. l'm looking forward to it!

Now, Mile, please tell us what you think is the appeal of this drama.

Although the original is a novel, it has become a work that reveals the true face of humans. It's wonderful. To put it simply, it's Pocky."

Pocky!!

"Yes (laughs). Pocky comes in strawberry, chocolate, and banana flavors. I want to try different flavors. This drama is like Pocky (laughs).

APO NATTAWIN

MUSIC COLUMN : LOVE SONG

Vivaldi's Four Seasons

I think it’s a love song. It's smooth and soft, so if you listen to it and are in nature, you can feel the background and love of the song.

What are you looking forward to during your visit to Japan?

I want to work with Japanese staff. Recently, I have traveled to various countries and worked with people from various countries, but Japan is one of my favorite countries, so I am happy to work with Japanese people. I wanted to work with them, and when I actually worked with them, they were all wonderful and always made me feel good.

Is there anything you eat every time you visit?

Surrounded by the sea, I think there are food colors and flavors that only Japan can offer.

However, what would you like to do in Japan if you have time?

I want to feel the unique lifestyle and traditional culture. I went to Meiji Jingu this time, and my mind and body became softer. The smell of nature calms me down, and I feel good energy and energy increase.

About the popular drama "KinnPorsche The 'Series'", do you want to share some behind the scene story?

In the scene on the boat in episode 3, our boat sways every time a boat passes by, so the camera gets drunk, so we have to take a little break after each take! I can not forget. Mile and I are fine because we are concentrating on the people we are acting with, but the cameraman must be drunk because he has a wide field of view through the camera.

Currently on a world tour as a drama member. If you were to hold an event in Japan, what kind of projects would you like to do?

Japan is famous for anime cosplay, so it would be great if everyone could get together in cosplay and sing and dance. There were people in duck and avatar costumes, but if we could get together in Japan and do cosplay together, I'm sure it will be fun.

You like singing and dancing, is there an instrument vou would like to try?

I wanted to play the saxophone because I liked jazz and instrumental music since I was little. I wanted to join the music circle. But now I wonder if I should listen to someone else play it (laughs).

Do vou have a favorite Japanese artist?

I love KAT- TUN. I don't know what it means, but I like the rhythm of the song, the way it's sung, and the beatbox, and it feels good to listen to it. i also like EXILE's "Lovers Again" and “LAST CHRiSTMAS". I like it because it makes me feel like something good is going to happen today.

Is there a Japanese actor you'd like to work with?

Nana Komatsu-san. I'm interested in her because she has a charming natural acting style. Also, Rinko Kikuchi's acting is so deep that it caught my eye. Tomohisa Yamashita, who I've been watching since I was young, is also one of my favorite actors. Takeshi Kaneshiro is also cool, isn't he?

What does acting mean to you?

Acting is what made me understand the world, people and nature. In the process, there are three things that are important to me: the environment in which I was born, the environment in which I am now, and the environment in front of me. When I was worried about the role of Porsche, It was about how he was born and what kind of environment he was raised in. It's difficult because he's a contradiction between his feelings and his actions. All I can say is that he likes Kinn. He loves Kinn regardless of position or gender, and the straightforwardness of Porsche is the appeal.

What role would you like to play in the future?

This work is currently being filmed, and in this series I am performing Thai dance. There is something unique about Thai dance, it is strong but soft and delicate. My teacher told me to think of myself as an angel and move, but it is a loose style. However, it is not popular among young people these days, so I want to convey the charm of Thai dance through this work. Just as everyone thinks of Japan when they hear the words ninja or samurai, I want them to think of Thailand, when they think of Thai dance.

#the part of mile saying he imagines to sing the song to a cat in his house…..#really??? really?????#also it’s so fun that mile mentioned food and tasting things even when it wasn’t the right topic but they asked about food to apo ajssksk #mile felt alone in paris #i wonder if he felt alone in mumbai #:D #kinnporsche #mileapo #awesome!plus #i translated it with google

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mochiimadness · 2 years

Note

Hi! Can i request a headcannon for rottmnt where the guys find out their s/o is a huge fan of horror & mystery. Like for example buzzfeed unsolved and movies like the conjuring and/or it? Thank you!

Neon Leon

Leo’s a huge horror skeptic

“Psh, ghosts aren’t real! It’s probably just the wind.”

Which means for the most part, he isn’t afraid to watch horror movies or read scary stories

Which is great for you!

He won’t object to watching them

But

He also, well, a huge-

H u g e

Critic

“That isn’t even possible!”

“How did he catch up to them, he was walking!”

It can get to be a bit much

If you’re fine with that, cool!

Critique with him, you two will end up laughing at most of the movies and stories

(Mikey walks by and sees you two laughing at the scariest thing he’s seen and is convinced you two are possessed-)

If you’re not okay with that, just let him know!

He won’t take offense

Realizes his critiquing can take away from the horror atmosphere

He’ll tone it down and instead opt to laugh quietly at some scenes

Is absolutely down to lay down with you and scroll through some buzzfeed unsolved articles

“Maybe I’ll end up on there one day! I’ll be famous, baby! Just make sure they put the best photo of me.”

Leo no

He does get a bit freaked out with horror movies based on real events

Tries to laugh it off

“C’mon, it can’t actually be real.”

He’ll manage to keep up his unphased image at first

But the second the scary scenes come on, he’s clinging to you

Will try to play it off

“I just thought maybe you were scared- ahaha…ha…”

You’re not fooling anyone Leo.

Please give him a hug.

Don Tron

One word

✨Theories✨

He loves to theorize about the paranormal and such

Will share his theories with you

“BUT WHAT IF THERE WAS NO GHOST ALL ALONG??? WHAT IF IT WAS- A DREAM?!”

D o n n i e

He’s so excited to share his theories with you, especially since you listen

You two regularly have a horror movie/reading binge at least once a week

It’s one of y’all’s favorite thing to do

You’ll both curl up with some pillows and blankets

Snacks and drinks within arms reach

The highest quality screens he has

And ofc he has note pads by him

If you also love theorizing, he sets up a space in his lab for you two to record your theories

Y’all probably have a podcast or YouTube channel

And you both wear hoodies with horror puns and references on them.

He still gets scared and will knock over a bowl of popcorn or too-

But don’t worry, Shelldon helps y’all clean it up

Speaking of Shelldon-

He joins y’all every now and then

His fans whirs loudly when he gets scared but he’ll deny it.

Donnie sometimes grabs your hand when he gets really scared

Just hold his hand and tell him it’s alright- you’ll throw hands with any monster

“You can’t hit a ghost-“

“Watch me.”

Mystic Mike

Mikey likes watching horror movies every now and then

But can he handle horror???

N o

It’s okay, he’ll still try to be brave with you

“With my s/o with me, there’s no monster we can’t beat!”

Two seconds later he’s popped into his shell

Just pick him up and put him in your lap

Scratch his shell gently and he’ll pop back out after a moment

Mikey definitely clings to you during movies, and keeps a blanket wrapped around you both.

He does much better with reading horror

Loves to read buzzfeed unsolved with you

“Hey wait a minute- I’ve seen that guy!”

“W h a t?!”

He’s definitely seen one or two ‘missing’ people

Usually they’ve just been mutated

If you want, he’ll introduce you to them!

You two usually curl up on his bed and read horror stories together

He even gets a few scary scrolls and books from the Hidden City library for you two to enjoy

More often than not, they’re mainly illustrated- like a comic book.

Mystic horror books are on a whole different level

Sometimes the books come alive and try to eat y’all

Other times, they sort of work like a mystic 3D hologram-

Using magic to show the events of the story happening around you

You two get so invested that you both shriek when the monster suddenly appears in front of you both

10/10 for practically being in the stories yourself

Big Red

Oh sweet, sweet Raph…

He can’t handle anything horror to save his life

He’ll try to tough out watching a movie or two for you

But he always ends up shrieking and nearly breaking your tv- or his dads projector

(Okay, he has broken his dads projector repeatedly)

He thinks you’re the bravest person ever for enjoying horror

If you want him to watch a movie with you, you’ll usually have to coax him into it

Make the couch super comfy and cozy- with his favorite blankets and pillows

You’ll have to keep a light on- or get fairy lights

He’ll sit with you in his lap, with his arms around you

This way he can hold onto you when he gets scared

(Also so he can hide behind you)

He’ll be so happy if you get him some noise cancelling headphones

The movie will still scare him, but he’ll be able to handle it a bit better.

If you’re reading some buzzfeed unsolved or horror stories,

He’ll gladly sit next to you with a book of his own, or his phone

While he won’t read it with you, he’s more than glad to spend time with you

You both get to enjoy time together while doing what y’all like

He usually falls asleep with his head in your lap while you scroll through buzzfeed unsolved, or watch movies on your phone with your headphones in.

He may feel a bit guilty over not being able to enjoy horror with you

So he gets you a poster of your favorite movie

Or asks Splinter if he knows one of your favorite horror actors so he could get a signature for you

“I uh- know ya really love scary stuff, so I got ya a signature from that one actor you like!”

Sweet boi

He’s trying.

Thanks for requesting, I hope you liked it!!

This was pretty fun to write ^^

Reblogs appreciated :3

Updated and edited as of July 2023

#x reader #my writing #imagines #tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #hamato #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #neon leon #don tron #mystic mike #big red #the boys

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sattlersquarry · 2 years

Text

& now i'm covered in you (steve harrington x female!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 3, inspired by Taylor Swift's "ivy") Despite having a boyfriend, you find your feelings for your best friend Steve Harrington growing tenfold over Christmas break, 1985.

Word Count: ~6k (I got carried away ahaha)

Warnings: (I'd say this one's 18+, maybe) Language, alcohol use, mentions of sex, angst related to general unhappiness and loneliness, mentions of nightmares, and canon-typical violence. Also lots of mutual pining. Extra TW for abusive, manipulative behaviors from an OC (this is a Tyler Didn'tGiveHimALastNameBecauseHeSucks hate page).

A/N: I felt unhappy so I wanted to write a fic about feeling unhappy and then kissing Steve Harrington. It turned into this. Enjoy!

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 14th, 1985

MY PAIN FITS IN THE PALM OF YOUR FREEZING HAND / TAKING MINE, BUT IT’S BEEN PROMISED TO ANOTHER

It’s a slow Sunday morning at the Family Video, and Steve Harrington wishes he were anywhere else but here.

His job is essentially dealing with one annoying customer after another, all day, for eight hours. It’s passable when Robin’s scheduled, but since she’s still a high schooler and just works part-time, Steve is left to fend for himself a good chunk of the time.

The bright spot in his miserable existence at the video store is when you come to visit him.

When he first got hired in October, you used to come twice a week to rent movies and talk with him. You always did a great job sounding impressed with Steve’s (albeit limited) movie knowledge when Keith hovered nearby.

As of late, the space between your visits grew significantly. And if you rented a movie, you’d use the curbside drop-off box to return it instead of coming in to see Steve. He tries not to take that personally. He rationalizes it, knowing you’re probably just busy with your classes at Roane County Community College. That was it. Nothing else.

He tries not to think about how your avoidance could have something to do with the events at Starcourt last summer. About how maybe it was related to waking up next to him in an underground Russian bunker, bloodied and bruised and drugged out of your mind. About how maybe you didn’t want to see him because you blamed him for—

Ding, ding! The bell above the door signals your entrance. Steve looks up from the returns he’s processing, wondering if he’s summoned you with the power of thought.

“Y/N!” he says, his bored expression brightening. “Hey!”

You give him a shy smile and wave.

“Hey, stranger,” you say, the gentle lilt to your voice making Steve’s heart melt. You stamp your boots, shaking snow onto the doormat. “Sorry, I know it’s been forever.”

“Don’t even worry about that,” Steve says, waving your apology away like a pesky fly. “I know you’re busy with finals.”

You join him by the counter, and the two of you catch up a little more: you talk about your classes, he talks about his job and his misadventures in babysitting.

At some point, the conversation shifts to relationships. Steve hopes he doesn’t sound too eager when he asks, “Are you…seeing anyone?”

He’s expecting you to say no. He doesn’t know why—you’re pretty, really pretty, and kind. And smart. And you smell nice. Long and short of it, you’re a total catch.

So he shouldn’t be surprised when you say, “Actually, yes.”

His eyes widen. He plasters on a (fake) smile and says, “Whoa! Awesome! Who’s the lucky guy? Someone I know?”

You shake your head. For some reason, you can’t look Steve in the eye while you explain, and instead pick at your fingernails.

“He’s from a small town in West Roane County,” you say. “I met him in my psych class. His name’s Tyler.”

“Tyler,” Steve repeats it, trying not to make it sound like a curse. “What’s he like?”

“He plays baseball,” you add. “And he’s in a band.” You start scratching at a stain on the countertop. “He’s pretty nice.”

“Pretty nice?” Steve says, eyebrows pulling together. “Y/N, you deserve better than ‘pretty nice.’”

“He’s fine!” you say, a little exasperated, as if you’ve had this conversation many times before. You meet Steve’s eyes, something akin to defiance flashing in yours. “He’s great! I really, really like him.”

“That’s great,” Steve says, lying through his teeth. “Super great. I’m glad you’re happy.”

You falter. Your expression twists to one of regret, for just a moment, before you turn away.

“I should get going,” you say. “He’s meeting me at Enzo’s for lunch. But I’ll see you around, all right?”

“Sure,” Steve says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Hey, listen, sorry if I said something to upset—”

“It’s fine, Steve,” you say. A lie. You beeline toward the exit.

You’re halfway out the door when Steve steps out from behind the counter and blurts out, “You still having those nightmares?”

You pause in the doorway. You consider just leaving, pretending you didn’t hear him. But you knew you were being a bit short with him, and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

You turn back into the store and shrug.

“I mean, sometimes,” you say. Another lie. You have them every night. Nightmares where you wake up in that godforsaken elevator again. Nightmares where you watch as the soldiers beat the shit out of Steve, out of Robin, out of you again and again and again, and over and over and over.

Steve doesn’t say anything. He studies you, honey-brown eyes shining like opal in the mid-morning light. He’s waiting for you to elaborate, so you do.

“I was seeing a therapist about them,” you admit. “But I was tired of wasting 100 bucks a week sugar-coating the horrible truth to someone who would never know what really happened. So I stopped going.”

“It’s hard,” Steve says. He cautiously steps closer, as if you’re a jittery animal he doesn’t want to spook. “Listen, if you ever want to talk about what happened, I’m here for you. Okay?”

Your heart twists. For a moment, you want to drop the facade. You want to tell Steve every bad thing you’ve been thinking and feeling lately. But you can’t do that. You can’t give him that burden.

So you pull him into a hug (so he can’t see your face) and say, “Thank you, Steve.”

He hugs you back, and you relish in the feeling of his arms around you. You want to stay like this forever.

But you can’t, because your boyfriend is waiting for you at a booth in Enzo’s.

Steve watches you go, a splintering feeling exploding in his chest. He tells himself it’s only because he can tell that something’s wrong, that you aren’t being fully honest. That it has absolutely nothing to do with his unrequited feelings for you, the ones he’s had since the two of you became Scoops Ahoy coworkers in May.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 27th, 1985

YOUR TOUCH BROUGHT FORTH AN INCANDESCENT GLOW / TARNISHED BUT SO GRAND

Steve doesn’t see you again for almost two weeks.

Christmas comes and goes, and he finds himself wondering about you and your elusive new boyfriend more often than he should.

You visit the store two days after Christmas with Tyler in tow.

“Who’s that with Y/N?” Robin asks, peering out the store’s large front windows from the sci-fi section.

Steve looks up from the tapes he’s organizing and almost drops them at the sight. A tall, muscular guy with piercing eyes has his arm around you as the two of you walk through the parking lot. Steve doesn’t miss how you seem to sag under the weight of the guy’s arm.

“That,” Steve says flatly, “must be Tyler.”

The two of you enter the store.

“Hey!” you say, pulling out from under your boyfriend's arm to give Robin a quick hug. “Merry Christmas, a little late!”

“Merry Christmas Y/N!” Robin says, hugging you back.

You turn to Steve and hesitate, before giving him a quick hug as well. You try not to think about how good his new aftershave smells: like cinnamon, like peppermint, like everything cozy and warm.

“I’m glad you’re both here,” you say. You gesture to Tyler. “This is my boyfriend, Tyler. Tyler, these are my friends Robin and Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, man,” Steve says, holding out his hand. He hopes the smile on his face doesn’t look too forced.

Tyler gives Steve a once-over before shaking his hand, and then shaking Robin’s.

“Y/N’s mentioned you two,” Tyler says. He puts his arm around you again. “Says you worked in the mall together, at some ice cream shop?”

“Scoops Ahoy,” Robin says. “God, I do not miss that uniform.”

You and Steve chuckle in agreement. Tyler squeezes you a bit tighter. You stiffen.

“Sucks that it burned down,” Tyler says. “Y/N says you were there when it happened. That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, eyes flicking to Robin, and then back to you. He clears his throat. “Crazy’s one word for it.”

“Did you like, see the flames—”

“Hey,” you interrupt, before Tyler’s morbid curiosity of the mall “fire” can send you into a panic attack. “I’ve got to run to the bathroom. Is there a key, or something?”

“Nope!” Robin says. “It’s just down the hall to the left.”

“Great, thanks. Ty, why don’t you pick out the movie?”

“Sure, babe,” he says, sounding a bit bored. You kiss him on the cheek and disappear down the hall.

“Need any recommendations?” Robin asks Tyler. “I know all about the foreign films and horror, and Steve’s big on the action-comedies—”

Ding, ding! A new patron enters the store—a pretty girl, around your age, wearing a low-cut sweater and bright red lipstick. Tyler’s focus immediately shifts, eyes hungry as he watches her walk toward the romance movie aisle.

Robin scrunches her nose up in disgust and shares a look with Steve, who looks pissed.

“Huh?” Tyler says, turning back to the duo when the new object of his attraction is no longer visible behind the shelves.

“Movie recommendations,” Steve says sharply. “Need them?”

“Nah,” Tyler says. He pats Steve on the back a little harder than necessary. “I’m good, champ.”

Steve bristles. Tyler breezes to the romance movie aisle.

“Holy shit,” Robin whispers. “He was totally ogling that girl!”

“He’s more than ogling,” Steve hisses. “Look!”

The two of them eavesdrop as Tyler flirts with the pretty patron, complimenting her lipstick, her sweater, her ass in those jeans. It’s shameless and pathetic, but the girl giggles and twirls her hair around her finger.

“He’s a total dog,” Robin says, crossing her arms. “We have to tell Y/N.”

Steve’s seeing red. He wants to do more than just tell you—he wants to knock Tyler down a peg. Or two. Or seven.

Before Robin can stop him, he’s charging toward Tyler and the girl. He grabs a VHS copy of Sixteen Candles off a nearby shelf.

“Hey, Tyler,” Steve says loudly, sauntering down the aisle. He slaps the tape into Tyler’s chest. “I found the movie your girlfriend was looking for.”

“‘Girlfriend’?!” the pretty patron says with a scowl. She huffs and flounces away, shoulder-checking Tyler on the way past.

If looks could kill, Tyler’s glare would send Steve six feet under.

“What the hell, man?” he says. “What about bro code?”

“We’re not bros,” Steve snaps. He steps a little closer. “Have some respect for Y/N, okay, ‘champ’?”

You emerge from the store bathroom and join the boys in the romance aisle, clueless to the tension.

“Ooh, Sixteen Candles!” you say, noticing the tape in Tyler’s hands. “I love that one!”

“I’m not watching this girly shit!” Tyler barks. He chucks the tape at you. You flinch and fumble, dropping it to the ground. “Let’s go, Y/N.”

“Wait,” you say with a frown. “Aren’t we going to rent a movie—”

“We’ll just go to the drive-in!” Tyler says. He storms toward the exit. You follow, and don’t hear Steve calling you to, “Hold on, Y/N—”

“It’s a little cold for the drive-in,” you say with an awkward laugh, “don’t you think?”

Tyler looks down at you with a sleazy smile, grabbing your belt loops and pulling you flush against him (in the middle of the goddamn Family Video).

“I mean, I know a couple ways you can warm me up. Like what you did last night…”

Shame burns through you. You hate how Tyler talks about sex so flippantly and in front of your friends.

You hate how he looks at you. Not like a person, not like a girlfriend. Like a sexual conquest.

You hate how he touches you, like a possession.

You don’t want to spend your night at the drive-in having subpar sex in the backseat of Tyler’s Ford. You want a cozy night in, with candy canes and warm blankets and hot cocoa and marshmallows and a movie you’re actually going to watch.

You gently push Tyler away from you.

“I’d rather just stay in Ty,” you say quietly.

Tyler’s expression morphs back to anger.

“Fucking hell,” he grumbles. “Fine. Get your dumbass movie and let’s fucking go.”

He leaves to smoke outside. You fidget with the hem of your sweater and watch him for a moment, too embarrassed to face your friends again.

You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Here,” Steve says softly. He hands you Sixteen Candles. You stare down at it, unable to look him in the eyes. “Is this still the one you want?”

You nod. Steve squeezes your shoulder and drops his hand.

“C’mon, I’ll get it checked out for you.”

You follow him to the counter, dragging your feet the whole way. Neither of you say anything as he finalizes the rental. Steve catches Robin’s eye from across the store and gives her a look. Robin nods, interpreting the signal.

“You know,” she pipes up, joining you two by the counter. “Steve and I only have an hour left of our shift. If you hang with us until then, we can go get food after.”

“Sounds fun, Rob,” Steve says. “What do you say, Y/N?”

You want to; you really do. But—

“I shouldn’t,” you say. “Tyler’s pissed, so he won’t want to wait.”

“Tell him to buzz off!” Robin blurts out. She sucks in a breath. “Look, I’ve got to be honest. I don’t love the way he treated you just now.”

“He’s just got a temper,” you say, waving away her concern. “It’s fine.”

You reach to grab Sixteen Candles from the counter. Steve stops you, holding both your hands in his.

All the air escapes your lungs. Steve’s touch is tender and warm. He’s looking at you with concern, empathy. He’s a gentleman and would never loudly boast about sex. He’s the perfect antithesis of Tyler.

For a fleeting moment that you aren’t too proud of, you imagine that sex with Steve in his BMW would be leagues more enjoyable than anything you’ve done with your boyfriend.

“Y/N,” Steve says, voice low. “Is Tyler…hurting you?”

“No!” you say, much louder than intended. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

“You’re sure?” Steve asks, brows furrowed. “The way you reacted to him throwing the tape—I mean, anyone throwing anything at anyone makes them flinch, but I just—”

“It’s not like that,” you repeat. “But thank you for looking out for me. Both of you!”

You want to say more. You want to admit that you’ve been thinking about breaking it off with Tyler, because you have the sneaking suspicion he’s cheating on you. You want to break down crying because he’s your first serious boyfriend and it’s not going the way you envisioned at all in your head, and you’re starting to wonder if you’re even capable of being loved at all—

Beep! Beep! Beeeeeeeeep!

“HURRY UP!” Tyler yells from outside the store. He honks his car horn twice more.

You quickly pull your hands out of Steve’s and mumble out goodbyes, before grabbing the movie and running out of the store.

Steve frowns as you climb into Tyler’s car, the splintering in his chest from a couple weeks ago back with a vengeance.

“Oh, that guy sucks,” Robin says, watching with disdain as Tyler peels out of the parking lot. “What are you thinking, intervention?”

“Maybe we put a hit on him,” Steve says darkly. “Or, hell, we handle it ourselves. I’ve got my bat. Do you think Sinclair would let you borrow the wrist rocket?”

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 31st, 1985

YOUR OPAL EYES ARE ALL I WISH TO SEE / HE WANTS WHAT’S ONLY YOURS

Now that the majority of Steve’s friends are nerds, any parties he throws these days are of the D&D variety.

It’s New Year’s Eve, and he’s allowing Mike, Dustin, and Lucas to run a special holiday-themed one-off campaign at his house. The other guests include Robin, Erica, Max, and you.

Well, you’re supposed to be there. But now it’s almost an hour after the scheduled start time and the impatient Mike started the campaign already, and you’re nowhere to be seen.

Worry blooms in Steve’s chest as he checks the clock for the fortieth time.

“Dude!” Dustin says. “It’s not midnight yet!”

“I know!” Steve says. “I’m just worried about Y/N. She should be here.”

“She’s probably just driving slow,” Lucas says. “The snow’s coming down pretty hard.”

But another hour passes, and another, and you still aren’t there.

Steve slips away during the one-shot’s final battle to give you a call.

He thinks for a second that you aren’t home, until he hears: “Hello?”

“Y/N, hey,” Steve says lightly. “Happy New Year, almost.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“Oh my God, Steve,” you say. “I’m sorry. I know, I suck.”

“You don’t suck.”

“I do. Totally, utterly, completely suck. I’m late.”

“It’s no big,” Steve says. He fidgets with the phone cord. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay. My car’s a piece of shit though and wouldn’t run, and the taxi fares right now are insane because of the holidays, and I called Tyler and asked him to drive me and he said he would, but that was, like, two-and-a-half hours ago and I haven’t heard from him since.”

The mention of Tyler spikes Steve’s blood pressure.

“Oh. Tyler. You’re…still with him?”

You blanch.

“Oh, um, yeah.”

You can almost hear his unspoken question: But why?

You aren’t sure why, but you find yourself verbalizing the thought you’ve had for weeks: “I think I’m going to break it off though.”

Steve tries not to sound too excited.

“Really?” he says. “That’s good! Seriously, you deserve better. He was a total jerk to you the other day.”

“Yeah,” you admit. “He was. He’s like that a lot more than I realized when we first started dating.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Steve says cautiously, “but why exactly did you start dating him?”

Because I like you. Because I’ve liked you since the summer, Steve Harrington, but you never made a move and obviously don’t feel the same and I just wanted to be wanted for once in my stupid life—

“I like baseball players,” you say, twisting your mouth into a smirk.

Steve’s mind flashes to the nailed baseball bat in his car trunk.

“What about guys who are burnt-out basketball players and swimmers,” Steve teases, “who also happen to be capable with a bat?”

Your chest starts to feel warm. No way he was actually flirting, right? No. He’s just joking around.

“Hmm,” you say with a chuckle. “I’ll have to circle back about that one.”

In the background, you hear the D&D group cheer.

“Sounds like they just won, or something,” Steve says, pushing the phone closer to his ear to block out the raucous noise.

“I wish I was there to see it,” you say. Before you lose your nerve, you quietly add, “I wish I was with you, Steve.”

The double meaning is not lost on Steve: with you, as in physically at the party. But also with you, as in I-wish-I-was-dating-you-and-not-that-shithead-Tyler. Steve’s mouth drops open.

He’s about to ask you for clarification, or to tell you he feels the same, but you curse.

“Shit, Tyler’s here and he brought his stupid friends. I guess he’s not giving me a ride. I’m sorry, Steve. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait, Y/N, I’ll come get you or—”

Click. You’ve disconnected the call, leaving him reeling about your maybe-confession.

He stares at the phone, mind buzzing in tandem with the droning dial tone.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 1st, 1986

OH, I CAN’T / STOP YOU PUTTING ROOTS IN MY DREAMLAND

You had wanted to break up with Tyler as soon as he came over, but he brought all his friends, and his friends brought wine coolers, and you had to spend your New Year’s Eve as the designated babysitter, making sure no one got alcohol poisoning.

With a drunk Tyler passed out on the mattress next to you, you went to bed thinking about how you were going to end things. You drifted off to sleep, worried about what his reaction would be.

For the first time in almost 6 months, you didn’t have nightmares.

In fact, you had quite the opposite: a rather amorous dream about someone else. The kind of dream that has you feeling flushed, your insides fuzzy and hot.

When you wake up the next morning, Tyler is already gone, and he isn’t answering his landline. Instead of trying to track him down, you decide to make it up to your friends for missing the D&D party. You invite them to go sledding on the big hill by your apartment complex.

At some point during the festivities, you drag Robin aside and away from the others. You confide in her about your interesting dream to try and get some clarity.

Instead, she just laughs and laughs.

“It’s not funny!” you say, glaring at her.

“It is pretty funny, though,” Robin says with a giggle and a snort. “I mean, we’ve seen a lot of wild shit, but you having a sex dream about Steve—”

“It was not a sex dream!” you hiss.

“Okay, whatever. A ‘romantic’ dream about Steve. Look, I don’t know what that means, but I do know one thing: both dream-Steve and real-life-Steve would treat you a hundred times better than Tyler does.”

“There’s no way Steve feels that way about me, though,” you say. You spare a glance at him further down the hill, where he’s cheering for Erica as she speeds away on her bobsled.

“You’ll never know unless you tell him how you feel,” Robin says, playfully poking you in the shoulder. “Who knows, maybe you had that sex dream—”

“Again, NOT A SEX DREAM!”

“—because he was thinking about you, too.”

She winks and wanders to Mike and Lucas. You accidentally catch Steve’s eye. You give him an awkward smile and turn away, praying he didn’t overhear you and Robin…

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 1st, 1986 & THURSDAY, JANUARY 2nd, 1986

SO TELL ME TO RUN / OR DARE TO SIT AND WATCH WHAT WE’LL BECOME / AND DRINK MY HUSBAND’S WINE

Steve never gets the chance to talk with you one-on-one during the day of sledding. It seems like you’re avoiding him. Every time he tries to strike up a conversation, and maybe bring up your statement from New Year’s Eve, you make some excuse to go on a hot cocoa run or grab an extra hat for Dustin and his cold ears.

Which is why when your roommate Molly joins the fun, Steve doesn’t rebuff her advances when she bats her eyelashes and asks, “Sled with me, Steve?”

“Sure, Molly,” he says with the kind of grin “King Steve” should’ve retired two years ago. “Sounds fun.”

He doesn’t miss how Robin’s coughing fit sounds suspiciously like: “Dingus! You’re a dingus!” as he and Molly climb onto the sled. He doesn’t miss how Erica loudly whispers to Lucas, “Wait, doesn’t Steve like Y/N?”

He definitely doesn’t miss how you look sick to your stomach, how you turn to Robin and say, “I’m not feeling well. I’m heading in.” How you make some comment about some party Tyler is throwing, how you want to rest up before you go.

Steve doesn’t see you for the rest of the day, and although you have plans with freaking Tyler, he politely declines Molly’s offer to go to the diner for a bite.

Later that night, however, he does see you again, in less-than-stellar circumstances.

It starts when he gets a phone call from Nancy Wheeler at 1 a.m.

“I’m sorry to call so late,” Nancy says as Steve rubs his bleary eyes, “but this is urgent.”

Panic rises.

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, imagining Russians and demogorgons and rips in the fabric of space-time.

“It’s not Upside Down stuff,” Nancy clarifies. “It’s Y/N. She just called me, and I think something’s really wrong.”

This doesn’t lessen Steve’s panic one bit. Cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear, Steve rushes to get dressed while Nancy explains that you called sobbing, absolutely hysterical.

“I couldn’t really make out what she was saying,” Nancy continues, “but she gave me an address. I would go get her, but my parents are out of town and have the car with them. I’m worried about her, Steve.”

Steve assures Nancy that he’s on it, thanks her for the information, and breaks about a dozen traffic safety laws to get to the address in record time.

The address takes him to a house on the edge of town. It’s very obviously a house owned by college boys, due to the amount of red SOLO cups littering the front yard, the music pumping through the windows, and the frat-house flag waving on the porch.

The party is loud and overwhelming. Steve cuts through the crowd, elbowing drunks left and right and loudly asking, “Does anybody know where Y/N Y/L/N is?”

His saving grace comes in the form of a bored-looking designated driver sitting at the kitchen counter.

“Is Y/N wearing a pink sweater?” the DD asks Steve. “With, like, little hearts on it and shit?”

Steve nods, remembering how cute you looked in it earlier during sledding.

“I saw her go in there,” the DD says, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the pantry.

Steve thanks the guy and slides open the door. His heart cracks into 70 pieces when he sees you sitting on the pantry floor hugging your knees to your chest, sobbing.

In one of your hands, you’re gripping a bottle of wine like it’s a lifeline.

“Y/N,” Steve breathes out, rushing to sit next to you. He puts a hand on your back. “What happened? Are you okay?”

You continue to cry and shake your head no.

“He has a girlfriend!” you say, hiccuping between every word.

“Who?” Steve asks, although he has a sneaking suspicion.

“Tyler!” you say. You take a swig of wine and start to slur your words. “I came over early and I found him making out with some girl. She’s been his girlfriend for three years. Three fucking years!” You bark out a hollow laugh. “I figured he was cheating, but turns out I was the one he was cheating with!”

“Oh, shit,” Steve says. He wraps an arm around you. You lean into him and lay your head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You drop the wine bottle and roughly wipe your eyes.

“I don’t even know why I’m fucking crying,” you say. “I only came tonight to break up with him anyway. And he treated me like shit. But…ugh, it’s stupid.”

“What?” Steve asks, voice gentle, as he runs a hand up and down your arm—a comforting touch.

You suck in a breath. If you were sober, you’d keep your mouth shut. But your alcohol-addled brain doesn’t give you the chance to stop yourself.

“It was nice to be wanted for once,” you mumble. “I’m just so tired of feeling this way. Feeling so goddamn lonely. So fucking unhappy.”

You’re glad that you can’t see Steve’s face, because if you could, there’s no way you’d have the confidence to keep going.

“I don’t know why I feel this way,” you continue. “I have you and our other friends. I have my parents. I have classmates I’m getting to know. I have a part-time job that pays well and I’m taking courses I’m interested in and I’m constantly surrounded by people and my life is good so I should be happy but I’m just not.”

Before Steve can respond, you start to ramble: “I’m unhappy, and I don’t know what to do or how to change it. I feel stuck. Stagnant. Like I’m in quicksand and I’ll keep getting pulled down until there’s nothing left.”

For a moment, Steve doesn’t respond. Insecurity chips away, making you worry that you overdid it. You clear your throat and start to backpedal:

“Sorry, ignore me, it’s stupid—”

“It’s not,” Steve says firmly. “I promise you, it’s not stupid. Honestly, I get it. Really, I do. My life is not what I wanted it to be and I constantly find myself wondering if it’s fate or if I did something stupid in a past life and now I’m being punished.”

You bite back a badly timed joke about his tenure as King Steve.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it,” Steve adds, “but this is just a small blip in your life. A small, insignificant blip. You feel stuck now, but you won’t be forever. You have such a bright, awesome future ahead. And you’ll find a guy who treats you wayyyy better than fucking Tyler.”

“Oh yeah?” you scoff. “Like who.”

“Doesn’t matter who.”

You look up at him, faces so close you can see every freckle and beauty mark on Steve’s cheeks. Steve has to remind himself to breathe when your nose almost touches his.

“Like you?” you whisper, the wine making you bold.

“Maybe,” he whispers back. His sincerity throws you off guard.

Your eyes pull to Steve’s lips. The urge to kiss him feels like a necessity, not just a desire.

You start to close the space between you two, but Steve pulls away. The one thought rattling in his mind is, Not now. Not like this.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” Steve says, helping you to your feet.

Embarrassment washes over you. Of course he doesn’t want you. You figured as much.

You’re unable to look any of Tyler’s friends in the eye as you clumsily exit the bustling party behind Steve.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 2nd, 1986

MY HOUSE OF STONE, YOUR IVY GROWS / AND NOW I’M COVERED IN YOU

You spend your Thursday hiding in your room, hungover and embarrassed about…well, pretty much everything. You can’t believe your drunk ass blubbered like a baby and almost kissed Steve. You have no idea if there’s a way to bounce back from that.

Steve calls your apartment a few times during the day, but you have your roommate lie and say you’re at your parent’s house.

Molly comes into your room around dinnertime and says, “You need to call Steve back. He won’t stop hogging the line. It’s getting desperate.”

You drag yourself out of bed and decide to do one better: to go see him.

When you enter the Family Video, he’s slouching behind the counter, watching St. Elmo’s Fire on the miniscule store TV. He doesn’t even look up from the movie and, in a bored monotone, says, “Hey, so we close in 15—”

“Don’t worry,” you say, “I’ll be quick.”

He straightens up and looks to you, instinctively running a hand through his hair.

“Y/N, hey!” he says. “Sorry, I thought you were a customer. I mean, you are a customer, but I thought you were a stranger—”

“No worries,” you say. You clear your throat. “I have something for you. Two somethings, actually.”

You reach into your bag and place two items on the counter: the Sixteen Candles tape you rented the other day and a square-shaped Tupperware container.

You remove the Tupperware lid and reveal a cookie cake with a message in blue icing: “I’m Sorry :( ”

Steve raises an eyebrow, looking down at the cake and then back at you.

“What are you apologizing for, exactly?” he asks, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“For last night,” you say. “I shouldn’t have gotten so wasted. And I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. I’m really sorry, Steve.”

Something unreadable flashes across Steve’s features. He fidgets with the Sixteen Candles box.

“No, don’t apologize,” he says. “It’s fine, really.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and you don’t say anything else, and for a moment the only sound to be heard is the movie in the background.

“I can get out of your hair,” you say, “if you need to close up—”

“No!” Steve says, quicker and louder than he means to. “I mean, why don’t you stay? You made this cake, you should at least enjoy some of it. Right?”

That’s how the two of you end up sitting side-by-side on the rough carpet of the Family Video, backs leaning against the counter as you tear the cake apart with your hands.

Through the wide front windows of the store, you watch the sunset dip below the horizon, painting the bottom third of the sky purplish-pink. Higher up, the sky is a dark indigo. You imagine the view from outside almost looks like a Christmas card, the two of you housed in the cozy glow of the store, its exterior draped in half-melted snow.

Between bites of cake, you two chat about everything and nothing. It’s nice, it’s easy, it’s friendly. It’s familiar. But there’s a buzzing in your ear, a pounding in your heart, and you want nothing more than to grab Steve by the collar of his stupid polo and kiss him until you can’t breathe anymore—

“Can I ask you a hypothetical question?” you blurt out, before your mind takes you to someplace you shouldn't be.

“Shoot,” Steve says, turning to face you. You meet his eyes.

“Let’s say there’s a girl,” you say, “who likes a guy. And she’s liked him for a while.”

Steve drops the piece of cake he’s holding.

“And for a long time,” you continue, “she was too chicken to make a move, so she didn’t say anything, or do anything. But the feelings just kept growing and growing, and covering her completely, like ivy.”

Steve swallows hard. You can’t tell if the wild look in his eyes is because he’s horrified or because he feels the same. You pray it’s the latter and keep going.

“Instead of doing the smart thing and telling him how she feels,” you ramble, “she convinced herself he only saw her as a friend, so she did a really stupid thing and dated a really shitty guy, but that shitty guy’s gone, and she needs to finally tell the first guy she likes him but that’s really scary and—”

Steve’s kissing you. You're not sure exactly how it happened, not sure when he moved closer, but now he’s kissing you and it’s perfect.

He cups your face in his hands and kisses you like he’s fighting for his life. Like there’s a fire in his soul, blazing away, and you’re the only one who can tamp down the flames. Like he’s covered in ivy too, completely enamored with you.

You kiss him back, grabbing a fistful of his dorky green vest. You kiss him like nothing else matters.

“Wait,” Steve says, pulling away, cheeks flushed. “The guy in the story was me, right?”

You laugh, and Steve is convinced it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. He wants to record it on a cassette and put it in his Walkman so he can loop it all day long.

“Yes, Steve,” you say. “You’re the guy, and I’m the girl, and I’ve liked you since June.”

“I’ve got you beat,” Steve says, grinning. “I’ve liked you since Scoops employee orientation. But I thought there’s no way you’d want to be with me. I mean, you’re you.”

“Holy shit,” you say. You think of all the missed opportunities, the wasted time. “We’re idiots. The two of us? We’re actual idiots.”

You both laugh, and then Steve kisses you again. Outside the window, the sun sinks completely, leaving nothing but a crescent moon shining in the dark winter sky.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #god i hope this does well #please reblog if you like it :)#st fic: ivy

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