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#i want solo song too like still with you

leydenkilgore · 8 days

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how i managed to shift 62 times

This is my go to method that I use most times I shift. I shift using sleep paralysis about 4 times a week and successfully. I like this method because it puts me in the thoughtless state which allows me to shift and allows me to focus. You don’t need to focus to shift but when I don’t I tend to just not want to shift anymore because I’m so consumed with other thoughts. This is not the void, however. I first shifted with this about four years ago, and have shifted with this method about 62 times that I consciously remember.

Step one: I can’t focus at all when I close my eyes and even if I do it in the day I take a nap. So for whatever reason I put my feet up on the wall. And I shifted the first time I tried. This helps me because even when I do nod off I wake up not long after. And I can actually focus on where I want to go. So I put my feet up usually with a blanket covering my legs and feet. It doesn’t have to be super high up where you’re uncomfortable. Just something even slightly raised helped me lots. I usually stay still because it puts my body to sleep and calms me. But you don’t have to if it’s too uncomfortable.

Step two: Oh, I’m usually listening to a playlist that reminds me of the place I’m shifting to or a moment or memory from my dr. That way I’m not scared by the silence when the sleep paralysis kicks in. Play it quietly so you don’t get annoyed and pick songs that aren’t too distracting. It should just kind of blend in the background. Then I start thinking about memories of my dr and moments. Usually in first person unless I’m looking at photos in my memories. If I nod off, I usually wake up from the unusual position and begin affirming naturally.

Step three: I usually forget I’m affirming and just shift immediately. I open my eyes and then I’m there. Or I get sleep paralysis where I affirm and think I’m there. And I wake up in my dr pretty soon after.

I’ve never failed with this method because I think it just fits well with me. It’s loosely structured and hits all my strengths in visualization, affirmations and so on. So I’d try this for three nights and if it doesn’t work. Apply what did and drop what didn’t. Anyways I’m so excited to shift for the summer to Okinawa. I think this one is just going to be a solo adventure with me and my five dogs. I might permashift from there but I don’t know yet. Does anyone else like to shift for holidays?

Happy shifting lovelies, you got this!

#shiftblr #shifting #shifting community #shifting antis dni #sucess story #shifting realities #reality shifting #shifters #shifting blog #shifting motivation

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radiosteve · 8 months

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I Knew You

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

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

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

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 30.5k (I got carried away)

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drunk under a street light

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A friend to all is a friend to none

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chasing shadows in the grocery line

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

And you’d come back to me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You put me on and said I was your favorite

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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discopaddock · 9 days

Text

OPEL ASTRA - JOOST KLEIN

SUMMARY: it's a good thing finding an inspiration to your song in your everyday things. what is not a good thing is that your friends shouldn't change your work if you like it.

PAIRING: joost klein x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff

WORD COUNT: +/- 600

WARINGS: none:3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hai:3 sorry it took so long but there are really lot of requests in my inbox and im trying my best at keeping up with them. this was based on this and that request. hope you like it!.

“I’m still not so sure about this,” Aggu said, pointing at some lines that were displayed on the computer. Y/N only sighed and put her fingers at the piano keyboard again.

She changed some notes and words, hoping it would satisfy her friend but unfortunately it wasn't enough. You can say that she was pissed, but she was really trying her best not to say anything. The song was okay, what didn't he like about it?

“Aggu stop, it's okay, I like it, you don't have to, it's just not your song” the girl said and then the door opened and Joost entered the room with beers in his hands. He quickly gave them the drinks and leaned against the desk, where Y/N was sitting. She knew him for the last two hours, but he was such a cute guy.

“What’s going on?” Joost asked, looking at Aggu and Y/N. One glance at Aggu’s face was enough for him to know that he didn't like something in the song. “Play it” he told her and she only sighed, expecting another complaint that the song wasn't enough. She pressed the play button and placed her head at the desk. She was so tired at that moment. She just wanted to lay in her bed and play guitar for some time or gossip with her best friend.

Joost enjoyed listening to her song. It was really catchy and he wanted to dance really bad.

“I like it,” he said with a smile. He clapped her shoulder, as if he was trying to tell her not to think about Aggu without words.

“But something is missing here, don't you think?” the Germanman asked, looking at his friend. Joost only furrowed, looking at blondeman.

“Nah, not really,” Joost said. “Do you like it, Y/N?” he asked the girl, who was looking at the monitor with empty eyes.

“No. Those lines are shit” she said about the lines she changed earlier, because of Aggu. “It was better earlier,” she added. Joost encouraged her to show him what it sounded earlier and only smiled, when he heard her own version.

“It sounds more like you, you know” he said, making her blush a little. “I think this one is better,” he added.

Aggu only rolled his eyes and stopped his attempts to change anything.

“Why don't you add some guitar before the bridge?” Joost proposed, after again listening to the song. “It will be even more in your style” he said and took a sip of his beer.

“You’ve listened to my music?” the girl asked, looking at him. Of course she listened to him, he was such a great artist. But him listening to her bunch of shit? No, it couldn't be.

“Sure, “Opel Astra” is my favourite” he announced with a chuckle. Y/N only blushed more. “Opel Astra” wasn't a very popular song of hers (actually none of them was) so it meant that he had to listen to her music for longer. It was so lovely.

“I like it too,” she said.

“Do you wanna sing in one of my songs? I really need something like you do, it's a true need” Joost said at some point as they were sitting on the patio and eating pizza with everyone.

“Really?” Y/N asked only and he only nodded. “We can do something tomorrow” she said and his smile only grew bigger.

“Thanks” he said only, making her blush a little.

The next day was going to be very, very interesting and full of guitar solos for sure.

masterlist

#discopaddock #joost klein fanfic #joost klein imagine #joost klein x reader #joost klein x you #joost klein fluff #joost klein angst

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p1utofairy · 9 months

Text

PAC: “i just wanna be your favorite…” ⭐️🎀💍

• which fictional characters is your person most like?

disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. i also just wanna say thank y'all from the bottom of my heart for the support <3 it means so much to me. enjoy!

pile 1 💸 —

"i can't wait 'til i get you on the floor, good-looking. hey, going hot, so hot, just like an oven. and ow! burned myself, i just had to touch it. but it's so fire, and it's all mine."

hiii pile 1! let me start off by saying your person is one fineeee m'fer! they look straight out of an old hollywood movie. suit & tie by justin timberlake ft. jay z won't stop playing in my head lol, their vibe is literally that song. they're gonna love taking you out to fun events and showing you off to people hehe i heard "trophy wife." this isn't in a superficial way by any means, they just really love how you look and how bright your personality shines. you have a mesmerizing appearance and an extraordinary personality to match. i feel like your eyes or their eyes is another main focus that will garner lots of compliments. ok, wow. back to the topic at hand! the characters i channeled were jay gatsby from ‘the great gatsby’, lon hammond from ‘the notebook’, and napoleon solo from ‘the man from U.N.C.L.E.’ now of course your person may not exactly look like these characters but the ✨vibes✨ are very much there. you're gonna have the time of your life with this person lol they are so damn fun and charismatic. i can hear them teasing you and and saying "don't be a brat, baby." with a sly smirk on their face LOL they're gonna make you feel so tingly and giddy inside ahhh. i feel like it was hard for them to settle down before you came into their life pile 1. they wanted to have their cake and eat it too. i mean this person could honestly have whatever they want, but you actually make them work for this relationship and they're not used to that. people (romantically and platonically) just fall for them at the drop of a dime because they are just so damn sexy, and it doesn't help that they're good with their words and actions. i just heard smooth operator by sade and ego by beyoncé at the same time lol this person is seriously a charmer! they can't help it though, they just love to socialize and have a good time. on the flip side, this sometimes weighs them down. the constant attention and socializing can make them feel overwhelmed at times. i'm thinking of ‘the great gatsby’ when jay kept throwing elaborate parties and inviting thousands of people to attend them, so that he could eventually catch daisy's attention. i'm hearing "when you're happy, they're happy!" random thought, but for some of you…your person could be from the UK/have a thick british accent. i also feel like your person is funny af, they've got jokes for dayssssss. they honestly take nothing serious…like if either of you had a bad day at work or just in general, TRUST that they will find a way to turn it around. like it'll actually amaze you how they just go through life vibing and you'll just be like how??? and i can hear them saying "i don't know, babe. i just got it like that." lol they're so cocky (but in an annoyingly hot way) you will never be able to stay mad at them. like if you were being petty and giving them the silent treatment for whatever reason…i can see you getting ready and they'd come up all close behind you, arms around your waist, kissing your neck and they'd be like "you still mad at me, baby?" and your brain would literally malfunction like €|>~€\€,\!|!]€]€YESNOYESNO.!:!,&:’ i'm crying this is hilarious. never a dull moment with them, pile 1. i'm telling ya!

other channeled messages:

theme from new york, new york by frank sinatra, gene kelly, tuxedo, her way by partynextdoor, sophisticated, expensive cologne, j'adore dior, pearly white teeth, cartier watch, swarovski crystals, meet me on the dance floor, babydoll by mariah carey, british, sprinter by dave & central cee, love island, damson idris, i'll make it happen, ballin’ by partynextdoor, diamonds are a girl's best friend

pile 2 💣 —

“who wants that perfect love story anyway, anyway. cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché. who wants that hero love that saves the day, anyway cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché.”

okayyyy pile 2, i see y'all with the bonnie and clyde vibes! let's buckle down and get serious though. i already feel like your person is very misunderstood. they might've had a rough childhood growing up or possibly struggled with connecting to their family. they feel like they fuck things up? they kinda think to themselves "why should i even try to be in a relationship, i'm a mess. i mess things up." it's actually sad because i feel like they're a great person (very soft and gentle) and when things go left/don't work out they immediately blame themselves because the blame was always put on them as a child. i'm hearing it's a "trauma response" :( aw pile 2 i feel like crying…your person really takes it on the chin and keeps it pushing. i can see them sitting on porch steps, gazing at the skyline and kinda just shrugging saying "that's just life i guess." they tend to self-sabotage before things even go into motion but before you two meet, they'll be pushed to confront their problems/fears. they have this cool, in-control, idgaf type of vibe on the outside but internally it's the opposite. i'm hearing pretty little fears by 6lack ft. j cole wow pile 2 they'll really have a soft spot for you. the characters i channeled were damon salvatore from ‘the vampire diaries’, luke glanton from ‘the place beyond the pines’ and tyler durden from ‘fight club’ which are some pretty complex personalities whew. your person is a loner by default, they feel like they really can't depend on many people. they've been left out in the cold so many times it's like they had no other choice but to become independent fast. when they meet you, pile 2…you're going to awaken them. i'm hearing j cole's verse in pretty little fears, “i'm loving your light, vulnerable. letting your guard down is honorable. 'specially when the past ain't been that friendly to you, but…there's magic in that.” it's gonna be insane to them how someone like you could display so much love, care and devotion towards them. i can see them keeping a really cute picture of you (or you two together) in their wallet/bag and just staring at it with a small smile on their face. you give them so much hope pile 2. they never knew they were capable of such strong emotions; love, happiness, joy. i can see you two laughing about something…you have this big grin on your face and when you turn your head to look at them, you just see them with a dopey smile on their face and a glint in their eyes just staring at you in awe. and you're just like "what?" but you don't even know how much you really mean to them in that moment. I'M ABOUT TO BURST INTO TEARS PLS I CAN'T. they're not used to anything stable, but you give them hope and anticipation for their future…with you. y'all are going to have to have so many enlightening, deep and forward-thinking conversations. i see them holding your hand and kissing your knuckles, taking random drives at night together while blasting music and going to the movies and talking/debating afterwards about what you hated and what you loved. k i'm crying, bye!

other channeled messages:

west coast by lana del rey, west side, successful relationship, turning tables by adele, cigarettes out the window by tv girl, well my boyfriend's in a band, ultraviolence album, someone like u (interlude) by ariana grande, toxic upbringing, scorpio moon, aries, smoking weed, american psycho, it's a forever thing

pile 3 🐚 —

“every little thing you do got me feeling some type of way. when you gimme that thunder you make my summer rain.”

welcome to your reading pile 3! idk why i wanted to say pile 333 hehe let's take that as a sign that you're about to meet your person soon. your person is so easy-going…like their energy feels so carefree and warm; like a nice summer breeze (i feel like some of you that chose this pile watch/really love the summer i turned pretty) i can see your person adjusting their sunglasses and saying "i'm just happy to be here." they're such a vibe lol. ok and why did i just randomly hear "no you're cute jeans." their sense of humor is so sjhfjdjcjdsn y'all are gonna have a lot of inside jokes together; internet memes especially. that "i'm sorry, i'm just in a silly goofy mood" shemar moore video just popped up in my head LMFAOOOO your person is hilarious pile 3. i channeled johnny storm from ‘fantastic four’, chad meeks-martin from ‘scream vi’, stefan salvatore from ‘the vampire diaries’ and conrad fisher from ‘the summer i turned pretty’ which are all pretty different but i see the vision pile 3…i see the vision. i feel like your person has just gotten back to themselves, because for awhile they weren't this upbeat and silly. i feel like this has to do with a past hurt/betrayal from either a friend or an ex-lover…that person took them for granted and made them feel small. i just randomly heard "katherine pierce" so maybe that person was very sneaky and never had good intentions in the first place. when they're with you though, they feel like a moth drawn to a flame. best friend by 50 cent just came to mind, "if i was your best friend, i want you 'round all the time. (i want you 'round me all the time) girl, i'll be your best friend if you promise you'll be mine (girl, promise you'll be mine)." i see you both posting funny photo dumps of you two together on instagram/instagram stories. i feel like y'all will be a PDA couple, and even if you aren't one of those type of people that likes all that…they're definitely gonna make you so happy that people visibly see the love between the two of you. i can see them kissing the side of your head, you slightly leaning into them…them giving you their hoodie/jacket to wear when you're cold. it's subtle things like that 🥹 so so so cute. you two have a very sacred, beautiful and divinely protected relationship. your person will be very generous with their time, money and love when it comes to you pile 3.

other channeled messages:

there goes my baby by usher, one in a million by ne-yo, connie baby, it's your world i'm just living in it, positions by ariana grande, unlock it by charlie xcx ft. kim petras & jay park, right my side by nicki minaj ft. chris brown, long walks on the beach, forever boy, vintage camera/digital camera, breakin’ my heart (pretty brown eyes) by mint condition, taylor swift, peter parker

pile 4 🌹—

“moment of honesty. someone's gotta take the lead tonight, who's it gonna be? i'm gonna sit right here and tell you all that comes to me. if you have something to say, you should say it right now.”

heyyy pile 4. i'm kinda stunned rn cause your person is sooooooooo captivated by you. like they wanted to skip all the bullshit and get right into it, and honestly…i #respect it. they think you're an absolute badass, you handle tough situations with so much grace. i'm hearing "you're better than me." lol they play no games pile 4, especially when it comes to you! i'm hearing that you've been through a lot, and it hasn't been easy for you to get to the point in your life that you're at now. they just wanna kiss you and make everything better. kiss it better by rihanna just started playing, "kiss it, kiss it, better baby." yeah your person is sensual af pile 4, it's givingggg taurus vibes. this is random af but i feel like they really love your back? if you wear a backless top or a backless dress, they will go absolutely FERAL. like fingers ghosting down your spine, their lips kissing down your neck…and don't get me started on the eye contact. their gaze is INTENSE. i’m hearing lyrics from nobody by selena gomez, "no kiss, no lips, no feel, no rush can keep me high, i swear no one…can love me like you do. can love me like you do, no." the characters i channeled were tobias eaton from ‘divergent’ and anakin skywalker from ‘star wars prequel trilogy’ which is so on brand. those 2 did not play about tris and padmé, ok?! you are their whole world pile 4. if it's not you, they don't want it. they feel so relaxed around you…like they can finally breathe. i can see them standing in a serious stance (obviously tense af) pondering about something and you just come behind them and wrap them in a big bear hug and they just…melt. they finally take that deep breath that they didn't even realize they were holding in for so long. they usually keep their feelings to themselves, but you create such a great safe space for them to be so open, honest and vulnerable; and vice versa. i'm also hearing that they are a very hands-on type of person, so whatever you need done/fixed, they sure as hell will find a way to do it for you. i can also see you two chilling/relaxing together a lot. don't get me wrong this person will always find something for you two to do, but there's something about that downtime (watching a movie while cuddled up with you on the couch, spending time with you and your loved ones/friends or taking a late night drive with you) that makes them think to themselves, "damn i really love life." 😮‍💨 you've got them locked in pile 4. it's so sweet & amazing.

other channeled messages:

1 of 1, peppers by lana del rey ft. tommy genesis, skywalker by miguel ft. travis scott, adore by cashmere cat ft. ariana grande, it's us against the world baby, 90210, pisces, dream guy, sauvage cologne, miss dior, sagittarius rising, virgo's groove by beyoncé, 1:11, best i ever had (remix) by drake & nicki minaj, all i want is you by miguel ft. j cole, bouquet of flowers, tennis bracelet, wild thoughts by dj khaled ft. rihanna & bryson tiller, cpr by summer walker

#pac #pac reading #love pac #pick a card #love reading #intuitive reading #tarot reading #pick a pile #energy reading #tarot pac #pick a card reading #p1utofairy

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demieyesore · 2 months

Text

Tear You Apart - Anakin Skywalker

Summary - Anakin's obsession with you is slowly taking over; He keeps hoping it'll just go away but quickly realizes that it won't.

Song inspo - "Tear you apart" by She wants revenge

Warnings / Mentions - GN!Reader, No use of Y/n, AFAB!Reader, ... Cannibal!Anakin ... CANNIBALISM AS A METAPHOR FOR LOVE OKAY ... He doesn't literally eat the reader tho, only sexually LMFAO. Anakin is a serial killer tho. Modern AU, College AU, Stalker!Anakin, Yandere!Anakin, Smoking (I don't smoke or do drugs so idk if I wrote it correctly but whatever) Some 18+ but it's really not full on smut lmfao, more like it's just known that they're doing it

A/N - Okay finally actually deciding to write because I keep thinking about Anakin and this song...

Requested - No

Word Count - 1.5k

Anakin Skywalker, a serial killer that hides behind the name "Darth Vader". He didn't choose this name for himself, it was given to him by the media after his first 3 murders. Well known for killing and eating his victims, people began to avoid leaving the house. The FBI were investigating the deaths, trying to find any trace of him.

They wouldn't ever find him. He knew that. He had been so careful to make sure that nothing lead the cops to him.

Or to you.

You are his everything. His world. All the murders are a symbol of his love for you. Everything he ate from his victims were something you had touched. If he didn't eat it, you didn't touch it. But that doesn't mean he didn't still take anything.

The first victim, a boy in your college class. He simply asked to barrow a pencil but when you gave him the writing utensil, Anakin immediately took notice of how your hand brushed against his.

His eyes narrowed at the frat guy's hand, his tongue poking at his inner cheek in annoyance and frustration.

Why would you touch him? He was dirty. All men are and you should be aware of that. You should be more careful about who you touch. Anakin would think in his mind, scolding you as he makes a note of who the douchebag was.

Two weeks later, he was found dead. His left hand missing and instead resting in Anakin's stomach. Of course from just the first victim, they couldn't assume he was actually eating the victims, they couldn't even be sure that this was a serial killer when there were no other deaths.

The second victim came about a month after that. In honor of the frat boy's passing, you and your friends went to a college party. This party was only about a week after the frat boy passed. You got a little too drunk, you could barely stand upright. What was Anakin supposed to do? Especially after he saw how handsy some guy was being with you? After he saw how he tried to lead you upstairs.

You unfortunately went with him, too drunk to fight back but that's okay! Anakin will take care of you like always.

Anakin saw how the sober party goer kissed you, he had to figure out how to protect you without drawing attention to himself.

He picked up a half empty red solo cup, standing by the staircase as he chucked the cup at your best friend. He swiftly walked away from the stairway, leaning against a doorframe as your best friend turned around.

She was clearly pissed, already a good sign for Anakin. She was scoping out the scenery, looking for who could have thrown the cup at her when she saw you making out against a wall with a dude that definitely was not your type. She stomped up the stairs, grabbing your wrist as she pulled you back downstairs and out of the party.

Anakin smiled to himself, holding a new cup with some kind of alcohol. His eyes drifted to the moron you were kissing. God how he wanted to kiss you too. Jealously spiked in his heart, his eyes darkening already trying to form a plan.

So three weeks later, same thing happened. Another guy found dead. He wasn't missing his hand this time, no it was something more personal.

His tongue.

The tongue that was practically shoved down your throat. He enjoyed cutting out his tongue while he was still alive, wanting him to know that this is what happens when you try to take advantage of someone who's drunk.

This pattern continued, making sure that the murders were far away enough from when you last interacted with the fucking losers.

I mean who would suspect you? Oh yeah, you gave a guy a pencil and he never gave it back? Such good motivation to kill someone.

Now of course, the second one could be motivation but you were so drunk that you didn't even remember it in the morning. And your best friend didn't say anything about it. Anakin would have known if she did, he has spyware installed on all your devices, recording devices in your dorm room and with how often he's watching you, he would of course know.

The other murders he committed were similar, anyone who came into contact with you that he disliked... a couple weeks or even months later, they'd end up dead.

No one put together that it was involved with you. I mean even you didn't. It wasn't like you were dating anyone, he didn't have to kill a boyfriend. Only small... inconveniences.

That old geezer at your job that kept harassing you? Dead, his eyes gouged out.

The girl at the movie theater that was an absolute bitch? She was on a fucking phone call during the whole movie. She was interrupting the date you and Anakin were on! It didn't matter to him that you didn't know you were on a date. It was a movie you were really looking forward to but the cunt couldn't keep her mouth shut. Yeah well, it's fine because she also ended up dead, her ears missing.

Nothing would come between you and Anakin. You may have only talked to him a couple of times, mainly to work on a project but it didn't matter. He knew you thought he was cute. He was watching you even before that.

Anakin didn't even want to like you as much as he does. When he first saw you, he felt a connection. Convinced himself that he was crazy. He would tell himself that he didn't need you. That he wouldn't give into his urges.

It became useless after a while. He was already hooked before you ever spoke to him.

But it solidified when you were stressing yourself out over an exam. You went outside, needing a smoke break. Anakin had been working on a scheme to be able to talk to you. Wanting to make sure how he felt about you before he took it too far.

He watched as you groaned, pulling out your pack of cigarettes and realizing none were left. You swore you had one more left, you rummaged through your bag looking for the last one when he tapped your shoulder.

You turned around, confused with a dazed look on your face when you saw him.

Anakin held out a pack to you. It was your favorite brand and you thanked him as you took one of the cigarettes.

You leaned towards him when he flicked his lighter on. He lit his first, pressing it between his lips as he towered over you slightly, his left hand holding the lighter on while his right hand protected the flame from any wind. Your cigarette ignited as you happily took an inhale of it.

Anakin knew for a fact that he would obsess over this for the next two days even when he told himself that it's only just a crush. It'll go away.

When you smiled up at him he had to repeat his little affirmations to himself, not wanting to be attached.

"It's just like all the others, it'll go away." He thought to himself.

He prayed for it to go away but his obsession just continued to grow.

I guess that's how you got here, underneath him. His obsession, his "crush" just never went away.

Anakin slowly invaded your life, not wanting to frighten you away. He may have eaten parts of people but it was just a metaphor for his love. Something he took a little too seriously.

He'd never hurt you, ever. Not unless he absolutely had to. But even then he wouldn't. He'd only just make threats.

You're too pure for him to hurt.

The only way he'd hurt you, was sexually.

He craved to hold you close, your skin pressed against him tight.

"Lie still, close your eyes..." Anakin would mumble against your lips, pulling himself away as he lined himself up with your entrance. He didn't want this to hurt you too badly.

He'd groan as he pushes himself into you. Thrusting into you slowly at first, letting you adjust to his size.

Anakin wanted this for so long, he couldn't help but to moan your name into the crevice of your neck as he sped up.

"So-" A whimper escaped his mouth before he finished his sentence.

"So lovely, you feel so right..." His soft breath against your collar bone, you could feel his beating heart in his chest.

He fucked into you deeper, a whisper fleeing his esophagus and into your eardrum.

"I want to fucking tear you apart."

Your hand brushed up against his, leaving it there. You told him how you felt, how much you loved him as you were both locked in a stare.

Anakin's movements slowed at your confession, taking a moment to process what you just said before his lips met your again.

You weren't sure of how he felt, whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last.

Either way, Anakin wanted you and this was bad. He wanted, wants, to do things to you. It was making him crazy.

A little crush turned into a like.

Anakin grabbed you by your hair, gripping it roughly and told you.

"I want to hold you close, skin pressed against me tight."

#yandere anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #stalker!anakin #dark!anakin #perv!anakin #demieyesore

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beomie3 · 9 months

Text

shoong! - choi yeonjun

pairing: boyfriend idol! yeonjun x fem!reader

summary: an upcoming dance challenge video with one of yeonjun’s role models has him nervous, overworking himself with the tricky choreo. but you’re by his side, there to relax him in more ways than one ;)

wc: 3.9k

warnings: smut, cursing, heavy make out, oral (both giving/receiving), unprotected sex, yeonjun is down bad (so are you), also tons of fluff too!<3

title track: shoong! - taeyang

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

"stop! start again," the choreographer's voice echoes throughout the dance studio for the tenth time tonight, biting your nails as you watch yeonjun hang his head in frustration.

his black tank top was beginning to pool with sweat, occasionally lifting it to wipe his forehead as beads formed near his hairline. to say he was tired was an understatement.

after practicing all day for an upcoming tour, he also had to master a solo dance for a challenge video promotion he would be filming soon. you could practically feel his exhaustion from afar when he shot you a tired glance.

you lifted your fist in a "fighting" gesture, being the only form of support fueling him. because right now, the choreographer was on his case and it angered you, if you were being completely honest. you wished she would tone it down a bit. but yeonjun found her harsh orders a helpful form of guidance, always pushing himself to the extreme.

the choreographer cued the music and it began echoing throughout the mirrored studio, the only sound booming other than yeonjun's sneakers squeaking onto the wood floor and her shouting down from five.

he began to move fluidly with the music like he was one with it, moving his hips and arms and legs perfectly, even better than what the choreography called for. he was the best dancer you'd ever seen, and damn was he passionate in what he did.

the song came to its end and he had to lay on the cold, wood floor for a moment to catch his breath, standing up immediately when the choreographer approached him.

"great, now with better visuals." she almost scolded him, noticeably bringing him down with her backhanded compliment. more visuals? but lady, he is the visual. it took everything in you to restrain yourself from walking over there and saying just that. but doing that will probably do more bad than good, ultimately having to painfully retract yourself.

you furrowed your brows, fingernails aching as you watched your boyfriend get into position again, somehow mustering a natural and sultry smile as he did the dance over, body flowing perfectly with the deep bass of the song.

your heart ached for him, already thinking of all the ways you would take care of him after he was done practicing, wanting to give him all the love and care in the world after getting through such a physically draining day.

yeonjun doubled over after the song ended and the choreographer signaled he had "passed" with a few claps and a thumbs up from the staff room, dismissing him for the night as he chugged water and wiped sweat from his face.

he sluggishly made his way over to where you stood by the changing room, melting into your arms as soon as he reached you. it felt as he had just gone for a swim, damp from head to toe with sweat.

"you're gonna kill it tomorrow with taeyang," you assured him, gently rubbing his wet back as he breathed you in. you knew yeonjun was nervous for this, he had worked his ass off perfecting the choreo because he always looked up to taeyang even since his trainee days. and now, he was going to film a promo with him, how surreal.

"i know," he whispered into your hair, the small smile on his face obvious because of his tone. you looked up at his flushed face, plump lips tugged into a sweet open-mouthed smile as he still caught his breath, running a hand through his dark, wet locks.

"c'mon, let's go home," you patted his hip and he nodded sluggishly, quickly slipping on the fresh hoodie you brought him before wrapping an arm around you, exiting the dance studio together.

once you returned to your apartment, you ran junie a shower like you always did after a long, hard practice; either joining him to wash up or staying back in the kitchen to make him his favorite soup while he showered.

today, you made his soup faster than usual, leaving it covered on the stove to retain its warmth while you went to go check on him in the shower.

steam escaped the bathroom as you opened the door, knocking on its wooden frame to advise him you were entering. his head poked out from the shower curtain, black hair slicked back from the water; a heavy glint of worry in his eyes, lips slightly downturned. baby :(

you felt a pang at your heart, immediately entering the steaming room and wrapping your arms around his wet body from where you stood, not caring that you were still fully clothed. you could sense that look from a mile away; he just wanted to be held. to be told everything will be okay.

"i'm just...really worried about tomorrow. what if i mess up? i can't do that in front of taeyang, i just can't." his voice was frail and he sunk his face into your neck and sighed, melting into you as your shirt quickly became soaked from his wet head of hair.

"yeonjun, you're the best dancer i've ever known. the best person i've ever known. you'll do amazing. you are amazing." you lightly massaged his shoulder with your palms, feeling him melt deeper into the hug. his face softened at your kind words, but he still struggled to even fake a smile.

"get in with me?" he didn't even let you respond before he was pulling you in, helping your clothes off and throwing them off next to his on the bathroom floor. he hugged you even tighter now, both of you silent under the running water, just holding him there as he breathed you in, sighing as you stroked his damp hair.

"it's all going to be okay," you whispered into his skin, gently pressing loving kisses to his neck. you wanted to relax him, give him all of your physical affection to remind him of just how much you love him. to calm his nerves before the big day tomorrow which you knew he sure as hell would kill.

trailing your kisses up his neck, under his jaw, and meeting your lips with his pillowy ones, he kissed you back softly.

"don't worry junie." you whispered against his plush lips. this was what he needed; your kisses and your reassurance. the warmth of your body pressed to his in a tight embrace. like you were an angel, coming to save him of all of the harshness of the world.

"it'll all be okay," you trailed your fingers to the tops of his shoulders, lightly rubbing the sore muscles while pressing tender kisses to his collarbones, sensing him lean his head back to the shower wall, relaxing under your touch.

you gently squeezed the muscles of his arms all the way down to his hands, following with the trail of your lips across his chest, working your way down to his lower stomach, where his abdomen slightly tensed in sensitivity. you knelt in front of him, looking up at him with kind eyes, and he looked down at you with a half-lidded gaze, neediness clearly present.

"just relax," you smiled up at him, and he gave you a small nod, the corner of his lip slightly upturned and sucked between his teeth, savoring your delicious touch. his member had already grown helplessly erect since you first started showering his neck in gentle kisses; pressed flush against his stomach and just waiting for your magical touch.

you gently trailed your fingers over his flushed tip, deriving a small shudder from your boyfriend as he leaned back onto the shower wall, eyes closed, just enjoying the moment. you took his heavy hardness into your hand, gently stroking him, kitten-licking the pre-cum off of his tip just the way he needed it.

he sucked air between his teeth at the sensation of your warm tongue on his sensitive tip, a low moan escaping his lips when you licked up and down his length, swirling your tongue on the sensitive skin. you were just too good.

his hand fell to your hair, tangling his fingers between the wet locks as you took him entirely into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat and slightly making you gag, the feeling fucking fantastic to him.

the way you looked up at him with tears pooling in your eyes from sucking him off so good made all worries flee his head immediately, only thing he could do was watch you, enjoying the insane pleasure you gave him.

his groans grew louder, echoing throughout the bathroom, spewing your name as you quickened your pace, doing everything so perfectly he could just bust at any moment. the way you trailed your fingers up and down his thighs, tracing his hip bones and running them across his abs had him going insane, pleasure through the roof as he released a loud moan, back arching against the shower wall.

"you're so good baby," his voice was low, tongue emerging to wet his lips as you began stroking and sucking simultaneously, getting a good rhythm going before he was a moaning mess, bucking his hips into your hand, rutting himself deeper into your mouth.

"i'm so so close," he pressed his head back onto the wall, slightly pulling at your hair, still gentle with you. but when you quickly flicked your tongue on his tip, it was over; inviting hot cum to shoot all over your mouth, licking your lips clean of it.

he huffed out of breath, eyes half open as he gave you a lazy grin, fucked out of his mind. helping you to your feet as you hugged his waist, he pressed kisses to the crown of your wet hair. the sound of his chuckle brought warmth to your heart; that's all you wanted, was to see your boyfriend happy and worry free.

"your soup is warm and waiting for you in the kitchen," you stroked his cheek, smiling when he placed a small kiss to your lips. he couldn't quite find the right words to thank you, so he pecked your lips repeatedly, holding you so tight. he even forgot exactly what he'd been stressing over, thanks to you. just knowing you'd be by his side tomorrow was all he needed.

and there he was again- next day in the studio, examining his outfit in front of the large mirrors, and you were too; checking out the beige, designer sweater he sported along with some baggy pants and black shoes. he was already absolutely killing it and taeyang had yet to arrive.

you noticed his slightly uneasy posture when he looked over at you, the hint of nervousness in his expression. you beckoned him over quickly.

jogging to over you when the staff weren't looking, you handed him a small napkin, holding the weight of his favorite cookie you had baked him this morning before you drove over to watch his big filming day.

he unraveled it, revealing the small sugar cookie with "yj fighting<3!!" piped onto it perfectly with baby blue frosting, bringing a blushing smile to his cheeks which he failed to hide with his other hand, finding it the cutest thing ever.

he slipped the cookie between his lips, smiling even bigger when the sweet flavor soothed his nerves. "you're the best," he praised your baking skills with a full mouth, chewing quickly and giving you a quick peck on the lips before running off to the dance floor when the choreographer emerged from the staff room.

the minutes went by of watching your boyfriend gain more and more confidence during his warm ups, rehearsing the song thoroughly before the arrival of the other idol.

you almost wanted to kick your feet at watching yeonjun's reaction to meeting taeyang; their interaction was professional yet so wholesome, bowing every second they could and you smiled, so happy to see your boyfriend enjoying himself with one of his role models. you were beyond proud of him, and you're sure many other moas felt the same.

after some small talk, it was time to begin filming, and you dialed in on yeonjun, praying that he would find his confidence through it all. and boy did he ever; moving so in tune with the music that he practically became it, mesmerizing you.

and damn was he sexy, moving his body carefully yet rhythmically with each beat, giving it his all when it came to his solo in front of the camera. he gave the camera a few winks and he looked over at you after each take, shooting you the same wink. you simply melted in your little spot by the changing room.

the sound of shoong! by taeyang was long engraved in your ears by now as it was probably the hundredth time hearing it over the span of two days. but you could never get tired of watching your man dance, eyes trailing his every slick move; every subtle rut and roll of his hips and flick of his tongue over his lips. feeling so lucky that such a man was yours.

you felt yourself slightly hold your breath during each take, fingers crossed that yeonjun would be happy with his performance and not too hard on himself, and every time he shot you a satisfied smile after each monitoring period, you brimmed with happiness, so glad he could see himself shine the same way you did.

after several hours of watching your boyfriend and taeyang dance professionally through the choreography countless times, getting takes with every angle possible, they said their goodbyes and he was dismissed for the night.

a large smile grew on junie's cute face as he ran over to you like an excited puppy, wrapping his arms around you tightly, nearly picking you up.

"see!! i knew you could do it! i'm so proud of you." your words simply meant the world to yeonjun, gazing into your sparkling eyes as you both brimmed with contentment. his love for you grew in this moment, wanting to repay you for being so amazing.

you weren't even halfway through the front door of your apartment before you had to come up for a breath amidst your heavy make out with yeonjun, his hands trailing everywhere imaginable on your body as you stumbled past the door.

shutting it with his foot, yeonjun scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he pressed you against the wall of the living room, decorating your neck with kisses and love bites.

"we deserve a little celebration don't we?" he mumbled already out of breath against your ear, and you nodded, basking in the excitement of the moment.

"you actually did so good junie," you kissed his neck softly as he carried you to the bedroom, hearing his small giggle as he set you down on the bed.

"only because of my #1 cheerleader," he leaned down, pressing his hips in between your legs and reuniting his lips with yours. the kisses were hot and passion-filled, making him begin to sweat even after all of the dancing he had done tonight.

he helped your shirt off of you, throwing it off to the side where your shoes were also kicked off, kissing a trail in between your breasts and down to your pants, undoing the button with a swift tug.

you could already feel wetness pooling in your underwear from the moment he was playing with the hem of your waistband in the taxi on the way home, occasionally slipping his pinky under and tickling the skin, hinting at you of what he wanted to do tonight.

and here you two were, not even home for three minutes and already a whimpering, moaning mess as you made out half naked on the bed, lips swollen from his nibbles as he lightly circled your clit through your panties.

you pulled his sweater off and threw it aside, running your fingers across his damp skin as he shivered, smirk widening against your lips. his lips ghosted down to your waistband, leaving a trail of kisses and goosebumps behind as he slowly peeled your underwear from your throbbing wetness, just begging to be touched by the handsome man in front of you.

teasing you with a few thigh kisses, he spread your legs far apart, hooking them under his elbows and then over his shoulders as he got a good look at you, licking his lips at how delicious you looked glistening in the dim lighting of the bedroom.

"thank you for being there for me, always," he flicked his eyes up at you with a warm smile, diving in between your legs before you could even say anything back but the moan that escaped your throat, arching your back at the sheer pleasure as he licked up and down your folds gratefully, savoring every bit of your essence.

yeonjun knew what the hell he was doing in many different aspects. in this one, he for sure knew how to make you scream his name and have you coming all over his face in a matter of minutes.

curling his fingers up to hit your jackpot, hot pleasure dispersing throughout your body, eyes rolling back as he fucked his fingers into you, flicking his tongue against your bundle of nerves deliciously.

one loud moan of his name and your legs were shaking on his shoulders, giving out when you rode out your wave of absolute pleasure, leaving your juices on his fingers which he licked clean.

he was quick to kiss you again while you caught your breath and recovered from the pulsations of your orgasm, helping him unbuckle his pants and dropping them to the floor; every vein visible on the imprint of his rock hard member through his underwear.

you were already soaking wet again when you helped him peel his underwear off of his hips; the sight of his dick springing out had your mouth practically watering again, just needing to lick off the bead of precum that formed at his tip.

but that was all he allowed you to do, wanting to take care of you this time, considering last night only he had finished and not you. in his eyes, you deserved to come even twenty times if you were up to it.

he took control, pressing you back down onto the bed as he kissed you, his warm member nudging against your stomach, so hard you just wanted to be stuffed full already.

taking your legs in either of his hands, he held them up in the air, tapping his tip against your entrance and then entering slowly to give you time to adjust, easing in so effortlessly due to how drenched you were.

he threw his head back at your warmth that engulfed him to no end, walls sucking him in perfectly. he threw your legs onto his shoulders so that they bent at the knees, hands on the plush of your hips to support each of his thrusts as he began to slowly and deeply pound into you, your moans echoing though the room with slaps of skin.

his hips snapped rhythmically against your own, which after all, yeonjun knew how to use his hips considering how amazing of a dancer he was; leaving you mesmerized with them more so after watching him dance tonight. and now you were getting to see him use them up close and personal, grinding skin to skin against you with every twitch inside of you, practically wanting to scream.

he fucked you slow and deep, then hard and fast; knowing exactly when to speed up or slow down. not to mention, he liked to switch positions frequently, flipping you so easily around like you were putty in his hands.

he had you on all fours now, ass in the air as he pounded into you from behind; doggy being the best angle to spank you in, because he knew you loved it.

"fuuuckkkk," he drew out his words, a groan in his throat as he watched your ass bounce back onto his thighs, kneading the plush of your skin with a firm grasp and slapping it gently.

you were already about to come again and he could sense it by the way you tightened around him, growing louder as he reached around to palm your breasts, fingers circling your sensitive nipples.

"jun-" you could only moan half of his name, chanting it over and over like a prayer, sheets messy with sweat and some drool as you buried your face into the pillows.

"wanna come on my cock y/n? yeah? give it to me." he spoke through gritted teeth, giving it to you so good you were on the brink of exploding.

you spasmed violently all over him, doing everything in his power not to finish quite yet; thrusting into you slower to let you catch you breath, gently turning your face with his fingers to kiss your lips, warm chest pressed to your back.

before you knew it, he flipped you over again, his body weight melting on top of you as his cock was still buried deep inside, subtly twitching as you fluttered around him. he went slow, kissing you in what felt like slow motion as he hit the deepest parts of you, splitting you open with each of his thrusts.

his face was flushed, even more than when he dances, eyes half-lidded and sultry and gazing deeply into yours, lips plump and dark middle part messy over his wet forehead. he was sexy as ever.

his hips stuttered and you decided you wanted to give him a break after doing all the hard work, maneuvering him so that he lay on his back, you on top.

he got a beautiful view from this angle, well, you each did. but he smiled, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he gently palmed your tits, trailing his fingers down your waist and over the plush or your ass.

you rode him steadily, watching his dick stretch you perfectly from where he was laying. you thought maybe you could last a little longer for him, but the moment his thumb rhythmically massaged your clit, it was over. there you were bouncing on him, getting yourself off to the friction of his tip against your g-spot and nearly crying at how amazing he felt.

sensing you were so close and tired, he began rutting his hips up and into you, fucking you so hard you were almost dizzy, fisting the sheets in your hands as he pulled them from you and interlaced your fingers with his instead.

"you're so fucking good," you moaned at the last second before he was finishing inside of you, the warmth spreading around your core and pushing you to the edge as well as you collapsed to his chest in a sweaty heap.

you both breathed heavily, your head rising and falling on his chest as he caught his breath, pushing his wet bangs out of his face before hugging you tight.

you both lay there, pressing kisses to one another, talking about the events of the day and how excited he was to see how the promotion would turn out.

"tell me why that song is still stuck in my head," you weakly laughed on his chest, envisioning the smooth choreography in your head and how well he danced to it today.

"maybe i'll teach you?" he smiled down at you and you happily nodded, knowing that you two would probably end up back in this bed because dancing with yeonjun always gets you heated.

he kissed you again, so satisfied with everything in his life; knowing that if he had his #1 supporter next to him, he could conquer any hard choreo.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

a/n: if you made it this far, tysm for reading! <3 this is inspired by the t:time ep of yeonjun’s behind the scenes shooting of shoong! and i’ve also been trying to learn this choreo so why not write a fic!😭 hope you enjoyed <33

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satoruhour · 10 months

Text

HE PLAYS BASS !

a/n: modern au bc i cant handle any angst rn. i ramble a lot in this to set the scene teehee. not beta read, gn btw / tagging @crysugu @slttygeto @getousex :3

wc: 3k ish

warnings: bass guitarist!geto, soft dom!geto, he is respectful of your boundaries, both geto and reader smoke weed, shotgun kiss, sexual acts under the influence, fingering, clit stimulation, implied second round, implied cunnilingus, dry humping, praise, n*sfw under the cut

bass guitarist!geto who has had an interest in music and its instruments since being a little boy, practically begging his parents to enrol him in some guitar classes. with fingers strumming the nylon strings alongside complicated chords on the frets felt so right that since then he and his guitar have been inseparable since.

bass guitarist!geto who gets to know the guitar so well that he masters guitar solo after guitar solo, playing songs by ear in his free time and thought lead guitar was all there was to music until the age of fifteen where he stumbles across a song with a bass line that sounded absolutely heavenly — through the 240p quality of the youtube video, he watched the bassist dish out the heavy beats, always in the background yet detrimental to making the band sound complete.

bass guitarist!geto who leaped at the opportunity to buy a bass guitar with whatever money he had to purchase a Squier bass — it was a little shitty in sound but it was cheap, something affordable for a middle schooler. suguru didn’t care. he perfected the use of his bass guitar, already having the basics down from playing guitar; his room is filled with posters, picks, pieces of displaced lyrics.

bass guitarist!geto only has the chance two years later to ask his new friends if they wanted to jam out together and down the line, if they wanted to form a band. it was a clueless band of boys (with shoko of course) in some room of gojo satoru’s luxury house where his parents don’t care to ask him to keep the noise down like suguru’s parents do.

bass guitarist!geto fights to get a spot to audition for one of tokyo’s biggest music festivals a few months later. if they won they would get more recognition, more support, even if they haven’t figured out the specifics of how to operate a band. with gojo as the singer, shoko on the lead and nanami on drums, they would find out what they had.

bass guitarist!geto who breaks that stereotype of the bassist being ignored throughout a performance. he thinks it could be because of his longer hair and his newly bought gauges, and he thought he didn’t look too shabby himself — although he isn’t surprised to see most of the girls fawn over gojo as he sang lyrics of an original song, courtesy of the joint effort between geto and shoko.

bass guitarist!geto who gives judges the finger after they said they couldn’t perform originals at an audition, blacklisting them for future performances — but gojo sees it as a win when he has a hoard of new fans waiting outside to get a photo with him with autographs that differed from each paper his pen made contact with. later, he bursts out laughing when gojo says he hadn’t even thought of a proper signature yet and just ‘did whatever on their paper’.

bass guitarist!geto whose band gained popularity fast because of everyone’s good looks, singing at that same place they auditioned at, but now with repertoire under their belt. it’s then that they’re already all in university, and yet everyone’s still incredibly passionate.

bass guitarist!geto who spots you in the crowd together with your friends, jamming out to their set, but while your friends’ eyes are locked on gojo who’s loving the attention, nanami who can’t give a shit and shoko who’s too focused on her solo, you manage to draw geto’s eyes to you. he spends the rest of the set locking eyes with you, amidst other things like sending you winks and licking his lips until you’re under his spell. all throughout he doesn’t lose the rhythm, but he does slip-up from time to time and there’s a panicked look that nanami sends to geto for messing up his rhythm.

bass guitarist!geto who sees you at his next show alone, smiling up at him right at the front row while he’s trying not to mess up after the last time. this time he has a chance to show you what he’s got in a bass solo, losing himself in the music until even you fades off and you’re truly seeing the bassist for who he is. he’s easing back into the main melody of the song but not before leaning over the speakers with a knee on the floor, hovering right over you before shoko takes over and he’s back to his heavy beats.

bass guitarist!geto who brushes off the teasing after the set ends, only to be bombarded with more of it when he sees you on campus — no way you’re in the same school as him, walking around with your cute outfits and laughing along to your friend’s joke with no care in the world.

bass guitarist!geto who doesn’t have much trouble charming you into hanging out with him, already recognising him from far away when he’s got his long flowy hair and gauges and tight black shirt and tall stature — you aren’t realising he’s asking you if it’ll be okay for you to head over to his dorm room. you’re getting pushed by your friends behind you to say yes with giggles and gossip, and of course you weren’t going to reject the hot guy you missed class and ditched friends for.

bass guitarist!geto who shows you his room and tells you to let him know if he’s made you uncomfortable in any way. in the background, there’s a faded, soft song that continues to play that really completes the dorm, immediately hitting it off until he starts to roll a joint a while later, offering it to you with a raise of his eyebrow.

“oh— n-no it’s fine, geto-san, i don’t really smoke…” you sheepishly turn down the weed, settling instead to watch him and his beautiful side profile, letting him explain to you about bands and guitar and chords.

“thank you for having me, geto-san,” bowing, you’re nothing like the person in the bar that day, geto thinks it’s the lack of alcohol but he doesn’t mind, simply leaning on the doorframe as he nods down at you. his smile is intoxicating and so goddamn attractive you would’ve buckled to your knees if not for the deep breaths you were taking.

“next time, pretty?” geto smiles, a little high from smoking. his eyes are lidded (they usually are anyway) and smile lopsided. his hair’s almost out of the bun.

“yeah, next time,” it sounded so breathy, you bit your lip. “i guess you’d have to find me on campus, though.”

bass guitarist!geto who mutters how you’re a little tease to himself later when he closes the door. he swears to himself he’d get your number next time, but it’s not difficult to find you the next time, hanging around the same place at the same time. it’s like you wanted him to find you — he’s not opposed to it. it’s a few weeks down the road now, and the second time is watching him curiously as he smokes, too. you take a hit and embarrass yourself completely in front of him though, and while you’re fighting for your life, you’re not opposed to the buzz it gives you.

bass guitarist!geto who’s opening the door to you the next time, surprised to see your dishevelled state and a pillow between your arms, walking almost a block like this to the next building where his dorm was. he offers to make you some tea and you shake your head, feeling a pounding headache already coming on just from explaining that your roommate was an asshole.

“you can sleep here if you want to, okay?” you sigh, thanking him immensely because even after knowing him for such a short period of time, you’re comforted by his presence.

“at least satoru’s not here,” you laugh at that, nodding tiredly before you’re settling on gojo’s bed after insistence from the other. he wouldn’t care, he’s always going back home anyway, don’t know why he wanted to share a room with me. but before you can get settled in, you hear the familiar crinkling of the paper and the click of the lighter and the smell of weed fills the room again.

again, his hand is outstretched, holding an ashtray below him as the tip of joint glows a red, calling out to you yet reminding you of the way you coughed the other night.

you crawl off his roommate’s bed, snatching the cig out of his hand in a way to prove something to yourself before taking a big puff. this time you’re better, letting the drug flow through your system, but tolerance is another thing, because it only takes another hit for you to be smiling drowsily at the other while geto is a little high, too, eyes rolling to the back of his head when your hand traces over his arms and you giggle.

“you w’nna kiss?” geto asks quietly, a little soberly, having talked late into the night while you hang off his arm and slur your words. but now you know you’re feeling a little more sensible when you can feel your heart pound and your eyes widen despite their need to close.

“i meant it, doll. you’re fuckin’ stunning,” suguru mumbles, the coldness of his rings sending a chill down your body, but also a spark to your core, “you look exactly like the day i discovered bass.” and it’s like cupid fully shoots his arrow through your heart — because have you heard the man play? you’re speechless at his point, only mustering a nod before you’re leaning in.

he hums drunkenly as a way to ask you to wait a min, manoeuvring you onto his lap before he’s taking the almost vanishing joint into his hands. two more puffs are perfect for the cigarette to be discarded and so with a gentle hand, he holds onto your nape while he tries not to get hard from having you on his lap. slowly, your lips wrap around the other end of the joint, taking in another influx of the drug before he does too.

bass guitarist!geto who pulls you towards his lips a little roughly but he doesn’t give you what you want (what he has in mind is much, much better), rather leaving his lips ajar as he exhales the smoke from his mouth into yours, your own smoke already dissipating. weirdly, this burn is more prominent, probably because all you can focus on are suguru’s dazed eyes and the way they burn through your skull. you inhale the smoke before you feel his soft lips on yours.

geto hums into your lips, coming off of them periodically to allow the smoke to disperse, but the moment is so intimate and hot that you blow away the smoke and lunge forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

“no more pullin’ away, geto-san…” you’re trailing off, words messily whispered against his lips and you burn at the chuckle he sounds out, muttering back a question of consent. you’re nodding, reeling at the speed at which he places his hands on your thighs, dragging you further up his front until you rested on his pelvis.

“kissing me like you can’t breathe and you’re still calling me by my last name? i’m wounded.” geto pulls away and defies your rule — you think he’s the only one who can do that. pouting, suguru pushes away the hair enclosing your face. “c’mon, drink, sober up a little.”

“...i like it like this,” you murmur, ashamed as to how readily you leaned into his touch. his stare is piercing though, not budging until you’re gulping down half the cup.

“throats turn dry when we smoke, princess. we can do it more when you’re more used to it, alright?” geto explains, patting your thigh and ignoring the tensing of them around his own. he’s trying so hard to act nonchalant, but he can’t get the image of you parting your lips for the smoke out of his head. the way your eyes flutter close, how you wanted more of him.

“alright… suguru,” you sigh out the name and geto wishes he could hear it somewhere else, “but can we—” the high is getting to you, making your hormones go into a frenzy and you’re grinding on his lap. geto hisses at the feeling, of your cunt brushing against his bulge. your hips are inexperienced, but you’re going by feel, drawing little circles and moving back and forth; whatever that brings you pleasure.

“baby— f-fuck…” geto swears when you pair it with the lips tha kiss down his cheek and jaw and neck, hands on your hips guiding you as you try to chase your high. but a whine from you draws geto out of his daze and he almost cums hearing your needy voice, begging him for something, anything.

“’m tired, suguru,”

he knows, grinding is a tiring thing, so rather he opts for you to lie on him with your back to his chest. by now, the room’s filled with the smell of weed and arousal, asking once again if he could take off your pyjama shorts. geto smiles at the lack of underwear but he says nothing, eyes latched onto the strings of juices that connect your pussy to the shorts.

“my baby ready to be touched?” he feels you nod, loving the way your stomach contracts and expands at the hand that travels over your clothed tits. there, he squeezes them, rubbing fingers over the hardened nub but soon creeps towards your centre. his hand and fingers are so much larger than yours, covering your whole core easily when he cups it and the contact is enough to make you mewl.

“hurry,” your hips hump the air.

“patience, darling,” geto’s gravelly voice cuts through to your ear before he finally draws languid circles upon your clit, rubbing and pressing on your bundle of nerves. his whole body burns from seeing you react so cutely, all cause your eyes couldn’t leave his on that stage. now your eyes were rolling up and over, little moans leaving your lips just from his hands.

bass guitarist!geto who seems to know all your pleasure points in one night, kissing the spot under your ear, to talking you through your orgasm. you were enamoured by the guitarist that you’d let him do anything to you, obsessed with the way he never missed questions of “is this okay?” and “tell me to stop”. geto is just as besotted by you, the arch of your back, the call of his name. god, he was going to write so many songs about you.

“think you can handle a finger, baby?” suguru whispers, caressing your twitching thighs from your first orgasm. with a shaky “yes”, geto plays with your hole, smearing your juices around your sex and getting it all on your thighs. the bashful suguruuu! has him laughing, taking your lips into another kiss as an apology.

“sorry, sweetheart. love teasin’ ya,” muffled words are said, “goin’ in.”

your jaw drops even more when geto first inserts a finger, so much wider and longer that a long moan escapes you. the stretch is so good, everything you’ve ever imagined after watching his fingers travel over the bass strings, and you’re already asking for a second finger. when he does oblige, your hands fly to grab at his wrist.

“feel good?” he chuckles at your lack of an answer, rather responding by clenching around his fingers and leaning back more into his hold. geto sets a pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. he thinks it’s enough of staring at you and almost gets whiplash when his head turns to his hand — from the way he disappears into your dripping cunt, he thinks he’ll cum untouched, although your desperate hips also would play a part.

“feel s’good, suguru— shit…” geto groans lowly into your ear when he feels your hand replicating the circles he’s made on your clit, juices starting to collect in his palm from how wet you were.

“you keep clenchin’ around me, baby, you w’nna cum?”

your body is more vocal than your voice, twisting and thrashing from how his fingers already feel so good. the haze and the smell of geto suguru and the weed in your system is all overloading on you at the moment, but in between you’re able to nod, fingers rubbing at your clit while geto’s speed picks up a little.

your legs naturally spread, each slap of his palm against your pussy paired with the lewd noises only making the whole thing better. it’s not long before you feel that familiar feeling, using your right hand to direct him to you once more and it’s here you see the man you saw on stage before: focused, flushed, small smirk on his face. “gonna cum.”

“yeah? are you?” geto asks against your lips, still tasting the faint aroma of the joint. your eyes are so heavy and your limbs feel like lead; it’s a wonder how both your hands are moving on your soaking wet pussy.

“yeah, sugu, s’sensitive—!” geto coos softly at your whimpers before capturing your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and your orgasm comes crashing down on you. suguru effectively swallows your moans, groaning on his own end when he can feel your cum running down his hand. slowly, he lets you ride through your orgasm, pressing pecks on your skin and shoulders.

“attagirl. so much cum, hm?” your chest is heaving, whining when he removes his fingers and there’s a cute little squelch from the juices, gasping softly as geto separates his fingers and there’s strings connecting his middle to ring finger. “dirty girl.”

you scoff softly with a smile, eyes following how his fingers make his way into his mouth. the other only hums before carrying you bridal style to the shower with a sweet smile on his face. geto suguru was certain he’d worship you.

“gotta taste that cute little pussy next time.”

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miaisocool · 3 months

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Johanna

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary - Wanda was your best friend in college that you had feelings for... were your feelings reciprocated or not?

Warnings: Mentions of underage drinking, Angst, Fluff in a way?... YES THIS WILL HAVE A PART TWO!

Word count: 4k

Note: This is inspired by the song Johanna by suki waterhouse :) so i recommend listening to that song..

Oh, my Johanna, Johanna...

There you were at a party that wanda invited you to it was just a simple college party nothing else the atmosphere felt weird... and tense your vision was hazy including nothing but people passing out, strobe lights flashing over your face red solo cups plastered all over whoevers kitchen counter.. drinks that you didn't recognize the name of assuming it was something fancy. It made sense since it was apparently some rich kid who's dad owned a big company hosting the party you didn't even recognize anyone there except wanda, clint, tony and maybe natasha?...

You and natasha never got along well due to your past with her meaningless hookups that would end up with nobody in her bed the morning after. It was a on and off thing for a while with you catching feelings for her when she didn't want you and natasha catching feelings for you when you didn't want her it was a confusing thing between you both it was on and off like that for a while during your freshman year of college but, you guys talked it out and discussed how it was better for you both to just keep the relationship between you two EXTREMELY platonic she went on a rant of multiple pros and cons about it and how it would keep your friend group together you didn't care as much as she did but you went along with it. So did she.. she soon got used to it and distanced herself from you she was tired no matter whether or not the friendship included those hookups or if it was platonic she couldn't manage to be friends with you knowing she was gonna catch feelings again. Did she have a good reason to? maybe but those were hookups that you and her both strived off of everyone moved on from it except for her it was somewhat of a cold atmosphere between you and her for a while but its okay now, which you assumed since she gave you a quick smile at this party...

"come on.. go talk to her!" clint nudged your shoulder as he nodded to the direction wanda was in she looked so beautiful.. whenever you got a glance of her the signal of butterflies would turn in your stomach and it made you somewhat smile to yourself it was common for you to do that.. smiling at the thought of wanda or smiling whenever you had a interaction with her you couldn't help it who wouldn't fall for her? he was bothering you all night to go up to wanda and dance with her or at least have a conversation with her but he knew you were too afraid to "I think i just need to sit down.. i dont know clint.. this party is just.." it was true the party was overwhelming with the music pulsating off of the walls even when you stepped outside for some "fresh air" it was nothing but the music still blasting strobe lights were even set up outside to "keep the party going" which was doing nothing but making everyones face in the crowd unrecognizable and the strong scent of weed making the air thick, the scent of sweat and alcohol mingling with the aroma of wanda in your mind wasn't doing you justice she always smelt like cherries and wine in the best way possible the only scent that you could ever get drunk off of, the only scent that ever brought comfort to you when you didn't feel safe, the only-

"Y/n! im so glad you made it!!" Wanda had the biggest smile on her face as her slender fingers caressed your shoulder bringing you the sense of home and getting rid of the overstimulated feelings you had from the party. You were caught off guard with the sight of wanda suddenly coming up to you, you didn't expect it but yes you did how couldn't you? you guys were friends and she was known for being the sweetest to you, you sometimes wonder if thats what made you catch feelings for her. You hated it but no matter how much you did it wouldn't go away.

"wanda.. hey.." it took a while for you to regain your composure as you were drunk off of literally nothing except the thought of wanda in your system well to be honest she was the only thing in your mind that night "i couldn't find you" you lied, you saw her multiple times throughout the night even when clint brought your attention to her and tried to pressure you into talking to her. You avoided her, you felt guilty about it. how could you? wanda was basically your friend that you had feelings for just a friend that you had a really good connection with, the first person to ever show you what true love was like? or was it just fully platonic you always wondered what she thought about your friendship with her..

"i was looking for you!" she giggled her laugh was like the only noise that ever brought you happiness the noises from the party fading away and the soft rustle of the cup she was holding which had a bit of what you assumed was rum her eyes glistening from the backyard lights really making the emerald green remind you of the beautiful grass that you always dreamt about laying in with her and being far away from home you stood there taking in the moment of her presence until she spoke again "let me get a drink for you!" she said loudly but quietly in your ear it was hard to speak with speakers literally making the music blast in your eardrums the music was too loud for you to understand what she said but you made it out in your mind as you nodded she took your hand gently dragging you through the big crowd of people who were all over the place dancing, drinking, smoking or just passed out all over the atmosphere was still a mess but with the sight of wanda your mind was blurred from the chaos of the party the noise quickly faded as you took in wandas features from her dark brown reddish hair to the curves on her body your mind was in awe her presence was like a aura of light in darkness

A few seconds later as your back inside of the house wanda hands you a cup of a drink you couldn't even recognize but you knew it was alcohol you weren't used to liquor but you decided to put on a front for wanda as you chugged it and had sort of a face of grimace as you put the cup back down onto the counter "i know you don't drink" you turned your gaze back to wandas as you spoke

"i know.." it was true you didn't drink but you decided to act tough for her or maybe loosen up once in a while but she knew you.. she knew that you hated parties, hated smoking, hated the thought of being peer pressured, hated alcohol. anything that was sinful for you in general you despised, but this night wanda was your heaven sent angel

"just thought i would've gave it a try you know?" you murmured into her ear the music was still too loud to have a conversation with one of you yelling or whispering into the others ear "I guess its not my thing" wanda brought her hand up to your back as she slowly caressed it up and down making a wave of comfort wash over you.

"it doesn't have to be your thing" her eyes softened as she noticed your discomfortness " Y/n.. you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with" "you don't have to pretend with me you know?" you couldn't help but feel your cheeks warming up and blushing at the sound of your name coming out her mouth and the sentence that tugged at your heart strings heer words truly resonated within you, cutting through the noise of the party and the insecurities that had you held up throughout the party. A reassurance that you didn't have to adjust to anyone else's expectations to belong.

"honestly you could just be yourself and thats all i want" her pupils dilated as she looked into your eyes this caught you off guard "nothing else?" you smiled and teased wanda seeing how far you could push her back into her regular state she quickly hit your shoulder and rolled her eyes as she giggled.

A flashback to two months ago

You were invited to breakfast by wanda you weren't used to waking up as early as her. This restaurant spot was where you guys would meet up countless times to talk, study or just have a coffee you didn't like waking up early to meet up with wanda like this but you couldn't help but fiend for her presence so you pushed yourself cause it was wanda and you wanted her, you loved her, you desired her. The morning sun was glistening over your skin as you stared at your phone until wanda spoke up "The service is awfully slow today.." you weren't used to seeing wanda be impatient was she complaining too much? no she wasn't it's true the service was very slow it makes sense since it's summer there was many tourists visiting the city just for food, beaches, views and expenses it held. "I could've cooked my own food faster than this.." wanda muttered under her breath you weren't used to seeing cold attitude come from her even her voice was laced with venom but you quickly spoke up and decided to ignore it "i'm sure they're just busy.." you noticed she was biting the inside of her cheek wanda would always do this whenever she had something heavy on her mind or if she was just frustrated. It hurt you seeing her like this so you snapped her out of her thoughts "wanda our foods here" she quickly re adjusted herself straightening her posture in the seat as the server set her food down along with yours "Sorry for the wait, enjoy." the server smiled at you both as he walked away quickly attending other customers. Wanda just rolled her eyes leaving a awkward but comforting silence you weren't sure what to say to cut the tension in the air until wanda spoke up "So.. i have news" you noticed something was off her voice was a bit hesitant before speaking that wasn't normal either she was always so confident before she spoke.. you raised your eyebrow giving a signal to wanda to continue talking as you bit into your food "I've been seeing this guy.." your heart immediately stopped at the mention of a guy wanda is with, the oxygen in your lungs felt nonexistent, the butterflies in your stomach died, it felt like you were suffocating almost, your chest started to burn as you coughed on your food a bit as you tried to force a smile "That's great wanda" you spoke up trying to suppress the feelings of jealousy within you, you wanted to scream at her telling everything you ever felt for her what you loved about her and how much you longed for her but you knew you couldn't. wanda spoke up again silencing the ringing noise in your ears "We're still figuring things out you know?" "I just wanted you to be the first to know" she smiled at you how could you not love wanda? The room fell silent once again, the weight of Wanda's words heavy in the air. You glanced around the restaurant until you swallowed scrambled eggs and your feelings of jealousy "im happy for you" your voice was slightly trembled oh how you wished wanda wasn't so blind..

I was drinking hard, acting tough But it was just a crush, just a crush

There you were dancing with wanda you were at least two shots in not enough to be drunk but enough to start pouring out your heart to her of how you wanted to marry her, make her yours, or be hers? your body was starting to loosen up so was the lump in your throat with every secret you held you towards her you couldn't help but notice how beautiful wanda looked even with messy hair your mind would sometimes drift off wondering if that's what she would look like if you ever had the chance to wake up next to her. You couldn't help where your mind was drifting off to but it felt strange, your mouth started to open up as if it was a feeling of vomit the music made you deaf from any words that were about to come out your mouth you tried to protest it but soon your body gave up

"Wanda.." You said her name as if it was a prayer she kept dancing as she heard you speak up the lights looked so beautiful in her eyes as it glistened over her face making wanda a bit unrecognizable and making your vision hazy mixed with the alcohol you had...

You knew she didn't want you, You knew she was with vision, she belonged with vision, She didn't even think of you that way but here you were about to dump your feelings towards her the weight on your chest was starting to feel heavier.

As Wanda danced like a angel gracefully, her laughter ringing out like in your ears, you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing deep within your chest. She was so close, yet so far away, a distant star shining brightly in a sky you could never reach.

"Wanda" You repeated once again... You leaned into her waiting for her to send or give a sign of some assurance that she knew what you were trying to do or if your feelings were reciprocated she soon leaned in and brushed her lips against yours. Your heart started to pound quickly as if it was a ticking time bomb that was about to explode. The kiss was soft, tender she tasted like cherries, rum and wine with a hint of cinnamon you were testing the waters first until she deepened the kiss making it become more passionate with a trembling touch you cupped her face into your hand you could feel how warm her cheeks were getting and the smile forming on her face as you pulled back she pulled back into the kiss making her breath warm and sweet you could tell she wanted this too with the way she pushed her body against yours the longer the kiss continued you pulled back and started kissing onto her neck as she moaned into your ear all you wanted to do in that moment was melt into her arms but it soon came to a end.

The feeling of vomit was starting to get heavier on your chest the more you stared at her figure dancing in the strobing lights

"im gonna get another drink" Your voice trembled with emotion as she nodded and smiled give you assurance that she would be right there just dancing the night away knowing she'll never walk away from you. You wished you could stay there forever with her but you walked away quickly to the bathroom making your way through the crowd getting elbowed a few times and struggling to get out of some tight spaces

You immediately shut the door once you stepped in and looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair was messy droplets of sweat were pouring down your face, watery eyes, pupils dilated. You looked completely out of it, you couldn’t tell what was real or fake, there was still adrenaline running throughout your veins from the sensation wanda had once placed on your lips and the melody she left ringing in your ear it was everything you ever wanted you soon closed your eyes turning on the sink splashing your face with water noticing the vivid image of wanda’s face and the lights you soon opened your eyes and smiled recollecting your thoughts of what just happened you were all happy and thought about how it was finally the right time to confess your feelings to wanda. You resented that vision was going to hold a spot in wanda’s heart even if you wanted to be in a relationship with her but you daydreamed about ways it could work out for the both of you.

Soon after you stopped smiling to yourself and daydreaming what you and wanda could be you soon stepped out the bathroom your eyes being greeted with the sight of clint coming up to you

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere!” He drunkenly swung his arm around you catching you off guard forcing you to regain your balance “Clint right now is not the best time…” You whispered into his ear trying to look for wanda in the crowd. It was hard to look for anyone in general even with the strobe lights flashing and fog in the air masking everyone, making it impossible to find her.

The air was choking up your throat as you tried to get a fresh breath of air from how terrible the party smelled but you had to adapt your senses to it even if it meant passing out all that mattered to you right now was getting to wanda. Your heart started to race the more you were scanning the crowd with desperation of finding wanda but you could barely recognize anyone… The feeling of clint trying to tug you back into his presence wasn’t helping you focus much either and the fact that he was yelling into your ear was just causing you more overstimulation. You bumped into a couple of people having to apologize profusely over and over your voice noticeably shaking with fear and emotion until….

You finally spotted wanda crossing out everyone in the crowd making the lights that were once flashing into your eyes causing a headache, you noticed she was dancing with a tall figure you really couldn’t make out who it was but you noticed it was some tall blond lanky man dancing and grinding against her they looked like two intertwined souls dancing with not a care in the world. You couldn’t help but feel a lump build up in your throat as you spotted the two having such a intimate dance, your throat got even tighter when you recognized it was vision the man who she would brag about all the time and how happy she was with him..

Was that why she was smiling at you all night? Was that why she didn't pull away from your kiss? Your mind drifted off to multiple scenarios maybe she was trying to get her mind off of vision. You knew he wasn't the perfect boyfriend for her well everyone had their reasonings but that's what you wanted to believe so you could swoop in and be with wanda because at the end of the day you believed that you were the one she belonged to. You remembered those nights you stayed up late just to hear her rambling about how many times she caught vision cheating on her you tried to convince her to break up with him not out of jealousy but out of how you wanted the best for her even if that meant not being with you. You didn't really have the right to be upset with her even if she was dancing with vision..

Feeling suffocated by the weight of unrequited love, you needed an escape – something to numb the ache in your chest and quiet everything that was going on in your head. So, without a second thought, you gave Clint a quick glance and pulled him into the kitchen, where all the drinks were stocked.. Your throat was tight and burning enough already, the alcohol was not going to suppress your feelings for her, it wasn't going to suppress the numbness you felt at the sight of wanda dancing with vision but you decided this is what you need to clear your head so you drank away

"Hey.. y/n lets slow down the drinks alright?" although clint was a bit drunk he still had a mind of his own. To be fair he was the only one out of the group who knew you best even since you didn't speak your feelings he could still tell what was wrong with you. You could notice that clint was very concerned and worried for you all you needed to do was to communicate with him so he could stop you for whatever disaster was about to happen.

"I'm fine."

You paused, your hand hovering over the bottle, the weight of Clint's words sinking in. In that moment, you realized that drowning your sorrows in alcohol wouldn't make the pain of seeing wanda with vision go away – it would only numb it temporarily. But either way you took a long chug of whichever alcohol you chose from the counter and how it left a sharp pain in your throat the same sharp pain wanda was leaving..

Clint watched you silently, his eyes filled with understanding and empathy. He knew all too well the pain you were having as he soon came to what made you this way the agony of watching someone he cares for slip through his fingers. "I just need a moment," you muttered, your words slurring slightly as the alcohol began to take effect. But even as you spoke, you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnawed at your insides, a constant reminder that wanda would never be yours and that her happily ever after would be with vision even in every other universe..

You were already soon too deep it had been a few minutes ever since you chugged multiple cups of alcohol and clint snatched the bottle from you although you tried to fight him and protest but you knew he wasn't doing any wrong so you soon gave up after.. You noticed a few looks coming from the crowd as you started to cause a scene while all clint was trying to do was diffuse the situation as he took the bottles and cups away from you.

Your body was starting to give up as you tried to lean against the counter for support even clint was trying to help you regain your composure your muscles were slacking and the lights started to turn into a hazy vision of a kaleidoscope, the weight of the alcohol and emotions bore down on you, the world around you began to blur and spin. With each passing moment, the room seemed to tilt on its axis, the sounds and colors melding together into a haze.

You tripped over your own foot as you tried to lean against the counter again but without warning you soon saw every overwhelming sense come to a halt as the last thing and all you could perceive were scurried footsteps and Wanda's voice, a distant echo calling out your name in panic and worry. The last sensation being the vibrations of her voice coming through and her hands reaching out to catch your weak body as you felt droplets from what you assumed were tears of concern coming from wanda.. In that moment, as darkness closed in around you, you couldn't help but not have a single thought but for now, all you could do was surrender to the embrace of unconsciousness and wandas arms wrapped around you as she tried to help you.. The voices of the crowd and clint and wanda and then vision were the finally the last thing.

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mysteriouswolf · 3 months

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I'm going to start this off with saying it hurts. It fucking hurts. It hurts so, so much, and there's parts of me that still desperately want to look for a way out, to make him not the bad guy, but there isn't one.

Wilbur Soot is a fucking asshole. A piece of absolute trash, and it hurts. Because I've looked up to him for so many years now. He's been such an inspiration and comfort in my life, from dealing with issues I have myself, and giving me all the more reason to stay here. And now he's turned out to be like this. To anyone who's been following what I reblog about him, it's conflicting, because my thoughts seem to change by the minute. But I'm hoping in saying this I can clear my head and make a definite decision.

I will never be supporting Wilbur ever again. No matter how much better he gets, I don't care. What he did was unexcusable, and if you think otherwise, you can fuck off of my blog. His "apology" wasn't an apology, and for the most part all he did was defend himself. The responses from other content creators have pushed me to agree that yes, fuck Wilbur. He's an ass. I think I've stated this a couple times.

What he did to them, especially Niki and Tommy was inexcusable as well from what we know, and since Tommy is going on tour in about a week (if he's still going/up to it) PLEASE no one harass him with questions, or how he feels. Please, just leave him alone. I'm sure it's a lot to process for him too- even more than us.

I've seen some posts saying how we should be angry at other content creators for not speaking out sooner, but some of them have hinted at it/tried. And others haven't known enough, or didn't want to start causing something against him. The same reason Shelby didn't want to say his name. Maybe they couldn't. Please leave them alone.

The last thing I would like to say, is maybe controversial. If you disagree with me, I don't care, this is purely my opinion.

You can still enjoy his character. Your stories, your artwork, all that you've done with it. Don't feel bad about keeping it up, because that's yours now. You've worked so hard on it, and cared for that character so much that it's become far more yours than his. In regards to his music, I know his songs have provided a lot of us with comfort, including me. It's going to be really hard for me to stop listening to something I loved, but I'm going to make the effort- especially with his solo albums. Also, please don't harass the other members of Lovejoy. From what we know, they're lovely people, and if you're going to stop listening to them, great, do that, but don't harass them. Please. And if you do choose to listen to them, there's ways you can listen to music without supporting him- in my opinion covers are the best way to do that, but that one is up to you.

To wrap this up, I'd just like to say...please don't send death threats, or threats in general to anyone involved in this situation- including Wilbur. Leave them alone. Please.

This is subject to change if we get more information, but for now and the foreseeable future, this is my stance. I wish everyone hugs and comfort. This sucks. I'm sorry.

#wilbur situation #wilbur #wilbur soot #cc!tommy #tw: abuse #tommyinnit

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muntitled · 7 months

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𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃: 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐢 𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲!?

Didn't anybody tell him being back in the booth will leave him singing solo?

Pairings: Lee Jihoon x Fem!reader | Slight!Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: A kink confession in couple's therapy might just save your relationship

Warnings: Established Relationship, Insecurities, Gender Roles, Slight!Toxic Relationship, Fluff, Slight Angst, Smut (+18 Minors DNI), Masturbation, Dom/Sub undertones, MeanDom!Jihoon, Sub!Reader, Innocence Kink, Slight DDLG, Ownership Kink, Hair Pulling, Spitting kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Humiliation, Submission Kink, Dirty Talk, Grinding, Oral Sex (Male rec), Breeding Kink, Slight!Hate sex

Word Count: 3.9k

Song: Mine | Beyonce

Woops

"I'm aware that I'm on this mission to get my boyfriend to actually want to fuck me again but why does it feel like I've already failed on the very first step?" A whine so childish, and so petulant rips itself from the depths of your throat but Jihoon's running shower silences the pathetic noise.

While he showers, you're left sitting on the floor surrounded by a graveyard of designer lingerie. A too small Victoria's Secret set is immediately abandoned in its box, leaving you howling into the phone as you wriggle yourself into the complicated underwear.

Your confidence wanes as you adjust to the intricate bows and string of the set, wincing as you pull up the pink garter belt until it's clasped around your thighs. Soon enough, you're padding across the floor of your walk-in closet, hesitantly approaching a mirror.

"I mean, this says 'slut' but what if 'slut' isn't what he's attracted to?" Your hand curls tightly around the width of your phone, "Jihoon is an anomaly! What if I end up making a complete and utter fool of myself?" The mirror is nestled between Jihoon's clothing rack harbouring all his neatly pressed designer pieces. You let the sight of his intimidating fashion waver your already fragile confidence.

"Are you hearing yourself?" Scoffs Mingyu through your phone's speakers, "What man has ever in the history of the universe not been attracted to 'slutty'? I feel like that might be a prerequisite in terms of the origins of the word." He says in a lax, calm manner, "Woozi'll just be happy to see boobs and ass becuase that's usually how a guy's brain goes. Or how mine goes at least."

Despite Mingyu's assurances, your arms are still folded over your scantily covered breasts while you cradle your phone in the air. "I don't know," your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth. "You didn't hear him today at counseling, Mingyu. I feel like our therapist might actually hate us." You continue to cradle your torso, forcing yourself not to flinch at the memory of your earlier session of couples therapy.

How far away Jihoon had felt despite being seated right beside you, like a gleaming, stoic-faced monolith. You feel as though you have been living in nothing but a perpetual winter, forever trying to please Jihoon, your boyfriend, but always falling short in front of Woozi, the entertainer. Work, work, work, on his mind meant that you were left to entertain your own wants by your lonesome. Even more harrowig, is the excuse he had given your therapist.

"She's always in boss mode," Jihoon's tone was as cold as ice, refusing to spare you even a single glance as he faced the therapist ahead, "And that's one of things I love about her, yes. Her drive and determination makes us compatible because I know I'm the same-"

A scoff slips past your lips at that point, making Jihoon's fist clench on the arm rest as you snootily interjected, "Don't misconstrue." You said, "He works more than me," and it was the truth as far as you believed it. Yes, you would gladly admit to neglecting a few key elements of your relationship in the face of your career, but never had you ever made Jihoon feel microscopic in your pursuits. Not like how he made you feel.

"It's important to listen to each other without interjecting." The therapist calmly scolded, leaving you grumbling in your seat, "You'd be surprised at how much could truly be accomplished by simply listening to each other,"

You were truly ready to tell that old lady to go to hell but something strange happened, and Jihoon finally opened his mouth, unburdening himself with what has truly been bothering him in his relationships as of late.

"It's just," He swears lightly under his breath, which does a terrific job in garnering yout attention. You peek up from underneath your lashes and you're stunned to hear him say, "I just wish she'd understand that it wouldn't burn down the foundations of feminism if she'd just," Jihoon's jaw ticked as he displayed the very first signs of emotion, "-Just let me take that load off for a bit…"

"In what way?" The therapist asked, sensing the nearness of a eureka moment. She treaded carefully, in fear of scaring Jihoon back into his shell. Thankfully, he made himself clearer because by now, you needed to know as well.

"She's the boss in her day to day and I respect that," he says, "But all I'm saying is that it wouldn't hurt to leave all that shit at work..."

The therapist nodded with grave understanding, although even you could see the trepidation easing onto her face. There is no hiding the conflicting emotions displayed on your face.

"You're asking her to become more…" The therapist cleared their throat, "Submissive?" Jihoon had not responded after that, letting the pregnant silence act as his megaphone.

"I'm submissive," you had whispered, nodding as if trying to convince yourself of your words. "I'm like… so submissive," before you could decorate your lie with even more lies, Jihoon finally turned towards you.

"Really?" He asked, "Where?"

You let an incredulous chuckle escape from your throat as you shot back, "Where what?"

Jihoon did a show of looking around the therapist's clinical office, delving deep into his petty theatrics as he calmly, "Where are you being submissive, because it hasn't been with me?"

The session had ended with you wracking your brain at Jihoon's admittance of what you suspect to be a kink. His words haunted you on the silent drive home. They had piqued your interest considerably, filling the atmosphere with a tense warmth, as if a tempest was brewing. One that neither of you was quite aware of how to deal with yet.

It was a feeling that led you into the deepest confines of your closet, until you pulled out the Savage x Fenty lingerie box, immediately calling Mingyu in a fit of panic while Woozi was in the shower. He was, after all, your best friend way before you even knew of Lee Jihoon.

Ripping your arms away from your torso is a mission on its own, one you succeed with immense reluctance as you finally gaze at your reflection in all her half naked glory.

You commence a hesitant twirl in front of the floor to ceiling mirror.

Very hesitant.

The lace bralette is digging into your ribs, and the matching pink garters are cutting into the skin of your ample thighs. It is all so painfully uncomfortable that you're threatening to take it off, no matter how much of a wet dream you may look like.

But there is excitement there too, bubbling beneath the surface, awakened by Jihoon's confession. You are almost excited to try this with him. Submission, sexually, was never on your cards previously but maybe this is something you should have noticed long ago. You pride yourself on being observant so why didn't you notice it before?

The soft affirmations of "Say my name," while he was steadily bringing you to orgasm with his fingers alone. The unmistakable need to have his hand locked around your throat whenever he was on the verge of cumming.

Even the non sexual stuff.

Ordering for you. Making sure your hand was always locked inside his when you found yourselves wandering the city. Forcing you to pay with his card despite knowing you made more than enough to sustain your lifestyle.

How didn't you know?

Keeping a hesitant grip on your satin nightgown, you tilt your head at your reflection skeptically.

"Imagine how embarrassed I'll be if he just ignores me," The insides of your mouth is bleeding non stop from the way you've been gnawing at it, "Maybe I should just accept that work is the only love in Jihoon's life."

Mingyu's voice is diabolically soothing as it bleeds through your speakers, "No, no," he says, and you can imagine him swatting away at the air in the process "Jihoon acts like a prude but he's one of the biggest sluts- if not - the biggest slut I know."

"Besides yourself of course," you murmur,

"Besides myself of course" Eventually, Mingyu comes up with what he suspects is his big master plan.

"Perhaps you should send me a pic of you in it, that way when the little guy gets out of the shower and sees you, then you'll be far more relaxed in the knowledge that someone else has already seen you in it."

It truly was Neanderthal mathematics.

However, there is an underlying veneer in Mingyu's tone bleeding in through the phone's speakers that makes you believe your best friend is far from joking. Despite it infuriating Woozi to no end, Mingyu might never stop flirting with you ever. In respect of your dynamic.

"Surely, I shouldn't have to tell you that I'm not sending you a pic of me in my lingerie for you but I guess I have to put that into words you would understand maybe?" You hold up your fingers and clear your throat as you monotonously say, "how dare you," 'have you no shame, Mingyu," You ask, "Need I go on?"

In the midst of Mingyu's petulant whines urging you to just 'leave your man' Jihoon's shower silences, and you right your bad posture immediately. You suddenly have no idea what to do with the drawstring of the nightgown. Somehow, this seemed like the make it or break it moment. The moment where you would decide to dive headfirst into your plans of winning back your relationship despite the possibility of being met with Jihoon's hostility and coldness that you had grown so accustomed to.

The pool of dread and anxiety is deep, and your hands are nearly shaking as your fingers gloss over the lacy pink garment. "I have to go," you whisper into the receiver, vaguely aware that you've already clicked the button to sever the line before your sentence even ends. All while you awaited the footsteps from Jihoon. But they never came.

Courageously abandoning your fear for the sake of actually getting laid, you walk up to the door of your shared bathroom and knock hesitantly.

"Jihoon? Honey, are you okay?" But he is not okay, in fact, Jihoon might venture to believe he may never be okay because your voice is just so pretty, even when muffled by a closed door. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his forearm is leaning against the shower glass, and you just called him honey and fuck, if he didn't start tugging at his dick faster. He feels pathetic, having to get himself off when you were right there but the nuances and complexities of fighting with your partner introduced the need for such things.

Jihoon's jaw is locked tight as he succinctly and suspiciously responds with a rumbling and groaning "Fine." His brows are furrowed, and his teeth locked tightly together as he fights to get off easily and succinctly.

He hopes that you would take the hostility in his voice as a sign to make yourself scarce. Jihoon already fucked up when he let the 'submissive' thing slip but he cannot bear to imagine the utter humiliation he would be subjected to if you swung that door open right now, catching masturbating in the shower, as if he did not have a girlfriend able to meet those needs… It bruises him like nothing else could. He did not want you to see him like this. He did not want you to know that even in the midst of your fights, you were the only woman he ever really thought of.

His palm skates over his soaked cock as his mind is filled images of you on your knees in front of him, head tilted back and tongue sticking out like a-

"Good little slut," It was intended as a whisper to fuel the violent pool of heat bubbling in his abdomen and make him cum quicker. A whisper that you weren't supposed to hear but your ear is on the door now and you shout back,

"Did you say anything?"

He cannot reply because his cock is aching and heavy with the weight of his fantasy. A fantasy in which you were his to hold, his to fuck, his to cum inside of until you were completely and utterly full of his load-

"Fuck-"

He rushes to squeeze the base of his dick, edging himself even though he's not quite sure why. This had been his moment to just cum all over his hands, wash off his spilt seed and be done with it, but you're knocking much more fluidly on the door, and you're becoming impatient.

"Honey, you're scaring m-," You venture to say, despite already pushing the bathroom door open. You're both left momentarily stunned by what the other is seeing in front of them. He is left paralyzed by seeing you in so little clothing… and wearing pink.

While you did not anticipate seeing Jihoon naked in the shower. Why had you not anticipated that? That’s so silly. Your mouth hangs open with the shock of his beauty perhaps.

Has it truly been that long?

In the same breath, Jihoon's lungs are wiped clean as he stares at you through the glass. His breathing is heavy, ghosting over the glass while his broad chest rises and falls. He is nothing but darkened hooded eyes. Eyes that ravage the sight of you in your lacy pink underwear, underwear that he had not seen anywhere. Where did you get that? When did you get that? Myriad thoughts swirl in Jihoon's mind, each more sinister and lustful than the last because you look so completely innocent and so soft standing by the door, arms at your side while the dressing gown hangs lazily off of your shoulders.

After a moment of silence, Jihoon decides to stop this nonsense by leaning back slightly. His long black hair still dripping down the sides of his face and his tongue skates over his bottom lip as he says,

“We should not be this surprised to see each other naked,” He says, a deep voice ringing out through the acoustics of the bathroom, “We are a couple, last I checked.”

When you do not respond, he tilts his head downward, letting an even deeper shadow cast over his eyes as he scans you from head to toe. For an innumerable amount of minutes all is quiet. It feels as though the world had been rid of noise, like you had teleported back in time, to a Charlie Chaplin motion picture. A world of absolute silence.

You begin to wonder how you might respond because surely, you cannot stand here, gawking at him for the rest of your merry life.

Before you could even think of adding to the silence with anything, anything at all, Woozi keeps his ice cold gaze on you, as he leans his head against his forearm, the one still positioned against the shower glass and he resumes his movements of languidly stroking his thick cock buried in his tight fist.

Your mouth runs dry as your eyes betray you, finally venturing down to watch him. You seem to have forgotten just how beautiful your boyfriend truly was, taking in his damp locks kissing his shoulders. He is all solid lines with a sculpted torso and you feel as if you never even knew him at all.

"Jihoon," Your voice quivers with immense passion but he silences you immediately.

"Don't ruin this. Please don't-"

"I wanna help." His mouth snaps shut but he can feel himself twitch in his palm. Jihoon's breath grows hot as you step closer and closer and he squeezes his cock, as the overall scent of you forces its way through his nose and into his brain. You're so utterly addicting, Jihoon's hand strokes almost instinctively, his hips even venturing to push his cock into his palm as he follows your every movement.

"I want you to tell me what to do," You finally say, letting the silk gown fall to the floor as you step into the shower, lingerie and all. Jihoon's mind has completely descended into lechery while his hooded eyes watch you with nothing but adoration.

"Your knees." Is all he is able to force out, "I need you on your knees," He whispers an incredibly hoarse, "Please," that has you falling to his feet automatically. The movement immediately had Jihoon's reeling.

"Fuck," He whispers, the sound of complete awe rushing straight to your core as he finally let's all his inhibitions wilt away with the rest of his manners. Jihoon is quick to bury his fingers into your hair with a roughness you're surprised to see. Surprised but far from disappointed.

"Open your mouth," He instructs, despite already prying your mouth open with his thick fingers, forcing your teeth open as if you were his plaything all while craning your head backwards.

Once he gets your mouth open, Jihoon is insatiable. He immediately bends down and crashes his lips into yours, letting his tongue invade the inside of your mouth like his life depended on it. It's a manic, passionate and domineering kiss, neck that had you moaning into his open mouth as your tongue wrestled with his.

"I'm gonna fuck your mouth now, okay?" His tone however, lets you know that he is not asking, not really, but you nod anyway, unsure of who or what has come over you. All you're really sure of is that you want to make him feel good. The goal, the satisfaction of it is building so fantastically inside of you, pushing through your arteries, steadily soaking your panties with arousal and eliciting a slightly wayward kind of dizzying emotion inside of you all at once.

"Tell me," he says, and you're forced to crane your head back as he straightens his form. "Tell me to fuck your stupid little mouth. Tell me it's what you want." His jaw is locked tight as his hand once again encloses around his sensitive dick. He refuses to give you anything, however, unless he hears you submit to him fully and completely. He feels like he needs to hear the words. Some part deep in his monkey brain needs the confirmation from the source, as if hearing you say such nasty, horrible things would increase his already heightened arousal.

"Please, Fuck my mouth, Jihoon!" In any other instance you might have been shocked at the words flowing out of your mouth, but your cunt is absolutely dripping through the fabric and your hand immediately dives down to cup your pussy through your panties as you look up at him and say, "Please fuck my slutty little mouth, Jihoon! I fucking want you to, pleasepleaseplease-"

"Such a slut- such a pretty little slut-" you'd never heard Jihoon's voice crack the way it just did and you really wish to hear that beautiful sound again. His hand is once again in your hair while his other hand is on your jaw. He pushes a finger inside until he's flattening your tongue and craning your neck even further back. You're momentarily confused, trapped in a haze of stupid lust before Jihoon hovers above you and spits directly into your mouth.

You're moaning, and keening and Jihoon is already forcing his cock all the way inside your mouth.

"Your mouth-" His voice is hoarse as he eases his cock inside the warmth of your mouth. He cannot take his eyes off of you, his beautiful, brilliant girl taking his cock so far into your mouth while you had taken to humping your own hand like an insatiable little slut.

"Fuck baby," He murmurs, letting the tip of cock meet the very back of your throat before inching out again, "is my little girl really getting turned on from sucking cock?" His humiliation is punctuated by a sharp and powerful thrust, one that has you seeing stars and your vision blurring as you fight to keep him inside your mouth. "You don't even have to do anything," He says through gritted teeth, "I'm doing all the work fucking this tiny little mouth of yours, aren't I?" You can feel how turned on he is. He's fucking huge inside your mouth as he slides himself to and fro like his life depended on it.

"God you're so beautiful like this," He whispers, "You're so fucking beautiful taking my cock like a good little whore."

Jihoon's gaze lowers down to where your hand has taken to pushing aside your panties and rubbing swift wet circles on your clit.

"You're not gonna cum like that," He says, almost immediately stilling his frantic hips, "when you cum, it's gonna be because of me, understand?" His grip on your forearm is solid as he pulls you up from off the shower floor. You're absolutely limp in his hands, breath heavy as he brings you close to him. There is a silent, almost tender exchange, with him breathing heavily in your face while you stare wide eyed up at him.

Soon, he's spinning you around with his hands digging into your sides as he presses your front against the fogged up glass. Letting your tits push against the cool, wet surfaces, he draws your hips to his.

Before he sinks his cock into you, a very strange thing happens. Soft pillowy lips brush against your shoulder blade, eliciting a sharp gasp from you.

"Thank you," He whispers before sinking his cock into you with determination. He bottoms out faster than you anticipate, all while you've taken to moaning and whimpering like a mad woman. Your sounds egg him on, until he's rutting his twitching cock inside of you, desperately searching for the alleviation of a budding and aching need inside him.

"You feel so fucking good, you know that?" You hear him behind you. Feel him behind you. Your walls stretch and contract around his cock who continues to bully your insides.

"F-Fuck, Jihoona-"

"Fuck, you're squeezing me, Princess," Your orgasm sneaks up on you pile the devil himself, stripping you of your dignity as you push your hips backwards, almost instinctively forcing his cock deeper as you fucked yourself back onto him. Jihoon's mind is absolutely deranged with lust. He sinks his nails into the softness of your sides and he pulls your hips impossibly closer. He fucks you like a madman, his cock is fluid and quick, pushing against that particular cushion of nerves that has your orgasm feeling like an absolute lifetime. Your panties that had been carelessly pushed aside creates a second later of friction that has him so dangerously close to the edge.

"I'm going to cum inside you." He states while never letting himself stop fucking you, "Fuck- I'm going to cum inside you-" It's the hardest you've ever seen him cum before. His hair is messy and a darker shade under the wetness of the shower, his eyes are hooded and glossy and his body is shuddering against you, overcome by a wave of vicious shocks as he stutters and empties his balls deep inside of you. His cock is forced deeper than it's ever been and you're made completely full of his load. Jihoon is utterly spent as he lowers his weight onto your back. Letting a sea of kisses reign down on your back as your heavy breathing fills the warm and damp air.

"You look so fucking beautiful," He says, never letting his pecks against your back stop, "so fucking gorgeous." That seems like apology enough, on both parts.

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myouicieloz · 14 days

Text

Collide

Huh Yunjin x 6th member!reader

Synopsis: you can’t take your eyes off her, specially when she’s dancing. thankfully, yunjin makes sure to put up a show for you.

Warnings: suggestivee. safe for work ma babes ^^

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: I SHALL PERSEVERE. fuckass writers block 😤. i will noooooot proofread this ^^

“Oh my God. Are you ok?” Yunjin asks, turning her attention away from her choreography as soon as she catches you desperately choking on water.

You throw your phone on the other side of the couch— as well as the bottle you were holding, in hopes of controlling the coughing fit that has you shaking rather violently. Still trying to gasp for air, you manage to nod, thumbs up to let Yunjin know you’ll most likely live.

“Just fine.” Your voice comes in between breaths, still accompanied by weakened coughs. “I drank too much at once.”

She giggles, walking towards the couch so you can sit side by side. You make sure to grab your phone back so your bandmate doesn’t reckon the cause of your coughing fit: scrolling through TikTok, you found a fan cam of the red-haired girl performing at their showcase just days ago.

Her bare waist, tight cropped and low-waisted jeans were enough for you to breathe in deeply, looking anywhere in the empty room but at her; carefully to not be reminded of the sin that was your bandmate’s body. Not only that, but the way she moved, too— sharp and flawless, skilled as she played with her hair and bit her lip while looking at the damn camera. Yunjin is well aware of how hot she is, and she sure as hell makes good use of that when performing.

It’s torture.

“Are you sure?” She frowns, and it’d be adorable if your mind wasn’t clouded by how she’d react if you just pushed her down the small sofa and ruined her relentlessly until someone had to barge in, worried about the screams coming from the room— only to find her whimpering under your touch, begging for more. “Your face is all flushed, and your skin feels hot. Y/n, are you sick?”

You shake your head, doing your best to duck from your bandmate’s attentive touches. It’s comforting to have her hand cupping your cheek, but her touches are electrifying. A single brush of her fingers is and your heart skips a beat, along with a familiar ache that starts growing in your core.

“It’s nothing, unnie. Don’t worry.” Her smile is so pretty. She loves to be loved by you. “You might want to take a small break, though. Come on, you’ve been here for hours already! Don’t push yourself too hard.” You offer, even though it’s obvious she’s going to decline. Yunjin’s too much of a perfectionist, so much so that it’s incredibly common to find her in that same practice room during late hours of the night, rehearsing the group’s choreography so she’ll be nothing but perfect once they go on stage.

The hate train Lesserafim’s been receiving has been getting to her, you know it as much. It’s easy to see in her chapped-off nails, disheveled hair, and how she never stays still, due to the amount of coffee she consumes on a single day. She’s too hard on herself, and you wish she’d open up more. How much better would it be if she just didn’t bottle it up so much, and relied on you instead? You’re bandmates, after all.

Touchy as she’s always been, Yunjin grabs your hand and leads you to the middle of the dance room, in front of the mirror. You’re left standing awkwardly, with a confused face until she rushes back with a chair. “Actually, I needed your help with something.” She gestures for you to sit, which you do. “It’s my turn to record something for TikTok, and manager-im asked it to be a dancing piece. Can you tell me if it’s good?”

You gulp when she launches her jacket lazily onto the ground, setting up her song of choice on her phone. The beat starts slow as the singer’s sweet voice echoes through the room, and Yunjin walks towards you in unhurried, precise steps. There’s not enough air, with all your mind clogged by her, and you can feel the slick dripping from your cunt. Once she finally reaches you… it’s insane. Her fingers brush your collarbone, the shadow of a proper touch has you shivering as she places both of her hands on your elbows and pushes herself down, her hips swirling just as the melody drags on— you can’t do anything but hold her by the hips, adding pressure to her rocking back and forth in your lap.

Her covered cunt brushes against yours and it’s the best feeling you’ve ever experienced; it feels heavenly, to have the friction just right where you need it. Yunjin’s arms go up in an arched movement, leaving her pretty neck all exposed. It’d be so easy to just push her in and suck on her porcelain skin until no makeup could hide such hickeys. Along with the song, she breathes in, which rides her crop top enough that you can see her lack of a bra.

It’s borderline painful: the way her actions lit your body on fire, the desperate need for more, the way she does a hair flip, still so attentive to the music you don’t even hear anymore. The only bang in your head comes from the pleasure building up down in your lower abdomen, waiting. Anticipating.

Yunjin grabs you by the neck just as the chorus hits, brushing her mouth against yours. She makes her way down to your neck, teasing her teeth against your clavicle whilst her other hand toys with the hem of your sweatpants, tapping in the right rhythm. “Do you want it?”

“More than anything.” Your response comes immediately. You’re soaked, and there’s nothing more in the world you want more than for her to touch you. “Please, Jen… Want your fingers inside.”

Yunjin is always eager to please, and you’re so glad for that. Her hand makes her way past your panties, and she smirks once she’s met with the mess you’ve made. “Does my dancing turn you on that much?” Her sultry tone does nothing but entice your moans, “Oh, Y/n… that’s pathetic.”

In any other situation, you’d give her mockery an answer just as filthy. But as her fingers brush your slit, gathering slick as Yunjin uses your juices to press her thumb on your clit, you can only muster a loud whine. Tangling your arms under her neck, you lift your hips a bit further, in hopes of having more.

More. It’s all you want. You need more.

“Jen, f-fuck. Please, I need—“ Two of her fingers enter your cunt unannounced, making you grasp. Yunjin’s movements are just as precise as her choreography, thrusting in and helping with the ache in your pussy right where you need it.

You’re not proud of how lewd you sound, all at your bandmate’s mercy as she fastens her pace on your dripping sex. She’s still in your lap, and the combined pressure feels just perfect.

Yunjin’s mouth leaves a trail of kisses in the valley of your boobs, her wet, cherry lips enticing the fire in your body. “I know what you need, baby. Just let go for me, you can do it.”

One command of hers and the tingling sensation that has been building up in your body explodes, allowing you to feel the wave of pleasure you’ve been so eagerly anticipating from the moment you entered the room. You cum with a high cry, with Yunjin’s fingers going even faster as you ride out from your orgasm. It’s not enough, though — you still need more. You think she’s going to give it to you, but your friend’s fingers retreat completely.

Yunjin’s left you a breathless mess, hot and bothered and just so desperate to have her in any way as you stare at her, hopeless and confused.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine, puting.

Yunjin laughs at the sight of your puppy eyes, so big and watery from frustration.

“Because that was it.” Her answer is resolute as if she didn’t make you cum seconds prior. With a fake frown, she adds, “Should I post it? Is it good enough?”

Taking a deep breath, you bite your lip as your hands find their way to her waist, bringing her to your lap once again. Even the smallest amount of friction _hurts_, from how horny you are, and you wince.

Noticing your struggles, Yunjin giggles as she leaves small, wet kisses on your jaw. You decide to play coy, too, “Not at all. In fact, I think you need a lot more practice. Go again, from the beginning… please?”

Yunjin laughs so hard she drops her head back, pinching your nose. “Sure, baby. I think so too.”

You kiss her again, exploring your way into her pretty mouth as your hands lift her shirt, groping her tits. Yunjin makes an effort to be perfect, and you’re so glad for her hard work.

“Oh, and Y/n?” She calls you, her tone all innocent. Yunjin’s lips are addicting, and she’s such a good kisser… it’s nearly impossible to focus on anything else. You hum in acknowledgment, and that seems to be enough for her, “You should lower your phone’s brightness before watching my thirsty edits, next time.”

You’d for sure choke again, if it weren’t for her devious laugh, silencing your shock with her sultry movements on your lap.

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #sol writes #huh yunjin x you #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin smut #huh yunjin imagines #huh yunjin x y/n #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim x reader #lesserafim smut #Spotify

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jennifercheckapologist · 5 months

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You Should Probably Leave

I can't help myself... just a drabble of Mean, Sorority Girl Reader and Ellie at a frat party... I will could talk about this for hours. (title from the Christ Stapleton song btw)

On TLOU2 and Palestine

It's terribly predictable, really. Ellie should've expected it by now; she had a type.

It was always the pretty girls that were oh so mean, but soft and so perfect it was almost scary. You know, the girls in short skirts with their house’s letters gleaming between their breasts and the scent of vanilla on their necks. The manicured girls whose boyfriends hated Ellie even as they invited her to their frat parties.

She certainly should've expected it when she'd first seen you with your Kappa Delta letters shining in the sunlight as you knelt on the grass in the middle of the quad, your skirt splayed carelessly around you.

She'd turned her music down in her headphones and gotten a real good look at you. Of course, she was going to fall into you.

And yet, she hadn't ever expected this.

You smell marshmallow-y and soft, and your lips are sticky with lip gloss when you take a seat on her lap. You look like you're supposed to be there, even though you’ve never spoken to her. There are too many bodies around and shitty LEDs lining the frat walls, and she can’t think properly with you here.

You look damn near angelic here, with boredom plastered on your face. You take the half-full solo cup full of vodka that she’s been nursing all night from her hand and drain it. You ignore the sound of her clearing her throat as she watches your face contort as the alcohol makes its way down your throat.

“I want to go,” you declare as soon as you finish her drink and offer her empty cup back. You’re barely even tipsy and it’s a little annoying. Everything is a little annoying right now, really. Especially now that one of her hands is toying with the edge of your skirt and the other is at the base of your neck, her palm warm and fingertips callused. You can picture how they got there now with the guitar you’ve seen her lugging around campus and it makes you even antsier to leave.

Ellie removes her hand from your knee to take her cup back, and soon the hand on your neck becomes one in your hair. She grips a fist full at your roots to pull your head back, somehow still gentle. She’s so warm leaning into you, pulling your ear to her lips. You can't help but smile when she manages to sound a bit unsure as she murmurs into your ear, “With me?”

#ellie williams #the last of us #ellie williams x reader #wlw #ellie williams tlou #lesbian #zavi learns to write♍

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