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husbandhoshi · 4 months

Text

TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort

this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)

and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.

i. strawberries (the summer we were young)

When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.

This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.

That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.

Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)

Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.

It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.

Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.

"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.

"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.

"We all know what happened to Persephone."

"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."

"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.

"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."

He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.

"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.

"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."

It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.

Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.

Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.

ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)

"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."

You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).

You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.

You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.

"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."

You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.

"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."

"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."

"Here?" you ask, incredulous.

"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."

He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.

"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."

"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."

"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."

"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"

"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."

"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."

"You do?"

"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."

"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"

"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."

"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."

"You want to go to law school, right?"

"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."

"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."

He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.

You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.

But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.

It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.

"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."

"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."

You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.

"Maybe."

It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.

All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.

The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.

iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)

Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.

"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.

"What do you mean."

He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.

Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).

"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."

"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"

"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"

You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.

"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."

He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.

The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.

He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.

But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)

Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.

"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.

Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.

This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?

"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.

"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."

Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.

"Kinda?"

The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.

"Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"

"Maybe. You still want to, right?"

You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.

Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.

"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.

"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"

Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.

Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.

You can handle a little pressure. You have to.

What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.

For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.

"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.

There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.

You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.

iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)

Mingyu's family loves Christmas.

You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)

Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.

The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.

It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.

It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.

That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.

You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.

So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.

You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)

It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.

You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.

"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."

"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."

He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.

"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."

And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.

So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.

"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."

When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.

We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).

The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.

Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?

For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.

You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."

Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."

Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.

"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."

"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."

Clink.

"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."

"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."

"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.

"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."

Clink. Clink.

There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.

Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.

It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.

Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.

Clink.

Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.

"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.

There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.

Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.

"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."

But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.

Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.

v. wild barley (grows like weeds)

In March, you play house.

Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.

It's a kind, blinding charade.

(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)

(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)

It's good until it isn't.

That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.

(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.

It's a lie. You're a liar.

You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)

It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.

The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.

Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.

You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.

Your throat feels like crumpled paper.

Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.

///

The letters come one after another.

You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.

Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"

No, you don't. You never really do.

You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.

"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."

You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.

"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."

You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.

"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."

He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.

"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"

"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."

The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.

You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.

Going, going, gone.

///

Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.

You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.

You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.

Waitlisted.

It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.

Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?

No, but—

It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.

You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.

You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.

Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.

So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.

It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.

"Mingyu?"

"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."

The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.

You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.

"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."

"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."

No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.

You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.

"Mingyu, I swear—"

"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."

That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.

He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.

"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."

You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."

"I’m not, i just—"

"You just what? You can't help it?"

"No, I—"

"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"

There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.

"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"

Mingyu looks stung.

"W-why didn't you tell me?"

Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.

"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."

The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."

It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.

Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.

The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.

You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.

It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.

There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.

vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)

You broke up the next day.

Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.

"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.

Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.

Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.

"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"

"No, I just...need some time."

"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."

"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.

"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"

And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.

"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."

He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.

You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.

Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.

About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.

Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."

The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.

(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)

You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.

Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.

"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."

Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.

You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.

And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.

"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly."

"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."

You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.

"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."

"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."

"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"

"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."

"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."

Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.

Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.

"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.

"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."

A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.

"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."

The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.

"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."

"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."

For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.

"Promise."

The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.

#literally on my hands and knees begging for the tags to work #mine #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #mingyu imagines

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prythianpages · 5 months

Note

in a field of dandelions, I was so ready for the y/n to say the dialogue 'Don’t talk to me like that' and I was ready for it to hurt. az saying it somehow hurt so much more

omg I didn't even think of having the reader say the dialogue! so I wrote this spin-off i guess? or au lol of y/n saying the words instead, which starts as soon as they get to her apartment. you can read below! you can find the original imagine here

The walk to your apartment is silent and you begin to wonder if you should apologize for your outburst earlier. It was not within your nature to raise your voice at anyone…or harbor anger toward someone. But Eris had tried to hurt you, hurt Azriel and then shamelessly sneered about it.

Azriel follows you into your home, watching as you set the ingredients you collected down. He expects you to bid him farewell and kick him out but as you turn to him and your gaze falls to his injured hand, you sigh.

“Come on,” you offer, reaching out for his hand and he recoils. You frown. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

You know he’s lying by the way his jaw clenches and you can’t help but notice that he appears to be repelled by your touch. You almost laugh, even though you want to cry. “I promise I won’t curse you. I actually never cursed anyone before.”

Azriel’s expression remains unreadable.

“Just let me see. I can help you.”

“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth.

And as his blood drips onto your floor, you burst into tears because it’s all your fault. That arrow was aimed toward you. It was meant for you and if you hadn’t been distracted, maybe you could’ve protected Azriel. He wouldn’t have gotten hurt. He wouldn’t be trying to hide his pain.

“It’s all my fault. You’re hurt because of me,” you voice your thoughts out loud. You’re crying, wiping hastily at your tears, but they keep spilling and no matter how hard you’re trying, they’re not stopping. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Azriel’s gaze softens and is bridging the distance between you both. The sight of you crying is more painful than the injury in his hand and he hates himself for every agonizing tear of yours. He uses his uninjured hand to coax your gaze to his. He wipes your tears for you and you blink up at him, finding yourself lost in his hazel eyes. They’re a beautiful fusion of earthy browns and grassy green and they ground you like a tranquil forest kissed by sunlight.

“This,” Azriel inclines his head toward his injured hand. “It’s nothing to me. I’ve been through worse and I’d go through worse for you. I will always protect you.”

“Please,” you’re begging and you close your eyes but you still feel his gaze burning into you. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.” Your voice drops to a pained whisper and Azriel has never beheld anything more breaking.

He can’t do this anymore. He can’t keep hurting you. His mate.

“y/n,” he calls softly, his gloved thumb brushing against your cheek. You reluctantly open your eyes. “You’re my mate and I pushed you away because I--fuck, I don't deserve you. I thought I was doing you a favor but now I realize, I only hurt you instead. Please forgive me.”

“I know you're my mate." You confess and his breath hitches. “I’ve known since the moment I met you. I wanted to tell you right away but I didn’t want to scare you and when I was ready to tell you, you were avoiding me. I thought you hated me because–because, well, I’m a witch and not everyone is fond of them and I can’t blame–”

Azriel gently interrupts you with his lips. They’re soft and warm against your own and you’re kissing him back with a soft pressing need. You feel him smile against your lips and the butterflies in your stomach are dancing and fluttering all the way to your heart. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. You’re able to appreciate his smile and you’ve never seen anything more beautiful. You’re inclined to ask Feyre to paint it for you later.

“I owe you an explanation,” he breathes. “Where do I even start?”

You smile back at him. “How about we start with taking care of your hand?”

**the rest of the imagine would continue with Azriel still being hesistant to show you his hands but you accept him wholeheartedly bc who wouldn't?? <3 and it ends the same way*

#can you tell i'm so soft for them?#azriel imagines #azriel drabble #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel x witch!reader #az!dandelions #thank you for the ask!

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i-love-scarameowche · 8 months

Text

Caged bird.

Content Warning ⛈️: Yandere themes, breaking Readers legs, unconsensual nonsexual touching, kidnapping. Ft. Yandere Xiao, Scaramouche, Venti and Kazuha x reader!

Summary🔎: You thought you could trust them. You were so so wrong.

Part 2

Another Wattpad repost

You groaned as you opened your eyes, you just woke up. You heard giggling. Once you opened your eyes, but you still couldn't see, you felt fabric on your face so you assumed you were blindfolded. You tried to sit up but couldn't, you felt restraints on your wrists and ankles. You heard someone walking over to you and resumed trying to get up. "Y/n..~" You heard someone say and tut. You knew the voice was familiar, Venti! "Venti! Help me out please!" You say. "Aww Y/n, you are so adorable!" You heard him say, only this time much closer. You then felt hands squish your cheeks. "What? Venti help me!" You exclaim.

"Of course my dove!" You hear him say and giggle. You felt your held being lifted and someone taking off your blindfold. You can't see at first but then your eyes adjust to the light and you see Venti sitting next to you. (Youre on a bed) "Venti, where are we?" You ask and your lip starts to tremble. "Oh, we're in our house! In the basement!" He said and smiled at you. "Why?..." You ask. "Well, heh don't be mad but, we kindaa, kidnapped you.." Venti said chuckling. "W-what, why!?" You ask and as he's about to respond you realize. "We!??" "Yea, Xiao, Kazuha, Scaramouche and me!" He says with a smile. "Want me to go get them?" You shake your head but he gets up anyways and leaves.

Your lip started to tremble again, you can't cry, not now, not infront of them.. But a few tears still escaped from your eyes, right as they walked in. "Venti, what did you do!?" Scaramouche yelled. "Why are you blaming me I didn't do anything wrong!" Venti respond. They continued to argue as Kazuha walked over to you. He started to untie your ankles, and then he untied your wrists. He picked you up and you thrashed around. "Let go off me!" You screamed, but he just stood up and hugged you closer. You always loved his touch but now, it feels wrong...

After a while you stopped thrashing because you were tired and Kazuha sat on the bed with you in his arms. You heard a loud slap. And looked to the other men. Scaramouche had slapped Venti. "Stop, talking." Scaramouche said and Venti looked offended. You wanted to leave, you always hate when people argue. They then start to scream at eachother. You look up at Kazuha, he looks annoyed, you thought. You covered your ears and closed your eyes wishing everything would stop.

Kazuha noticed this, put you down on the bed, and got up. "Stop arguing." He said to them. "Why would I listen to you?" Scaramouche asked in a rude tone. "Because you're both making them scared." Kazuha said and they looked at you. "Fine." They both say.

Kazuha was wrong, they were all making you scared, you didn't wanna be here at all.

A week later

"Come on Y/nn have some!~" Venti said and offered you his bottle of dandelion wine. "No thank you.." You said quietly as he pulled you closer to him. "Leave her alone, Venti." Scaramouche said. "Noo, she wants some right?" He said and looked at you pleading for you to say yes. "Okay." You said, you worried what he would do if you said no.. Venti then gave you his bottle. "Have some!" He said and Scaramouche glared at him. You barely ever drank before.. You put the top of the bottle to your lips and slowly drank it. You cringed inwards, you didn't like it. You put the bottle back down.

"Sooo?" Venti said. "It was fine." You said. "Just, fine? Really?" He asked and looked at you. "She did what you asked, it's my turn with her now." Scaramouche said and picked you up, he threw you over his shoulder and walked into the bedroom.

"Heyy, give her back!~" You hear Venti say and then hear crashing. Scaramouche groaned and opened the bedroom door then closed it. He threw you on the bed and locked the door. He laid down next you and groaned. "You love me, right?" He asked and you nodded, you didn't think it was true but you didn't want him to be mad. "Good." He said and pulled you underneath him.

He put his face on your chest (btw it doesn't matter if you don't have boobs or are a guy) and hugged your waist.

Time skip cus 😚🫶

You woke up and groaned. Your eyes fluttered open and you tried to move but you felt someone on top of you. "Stop moving." You looked and saw Scaramouche hugging your waist tightly and pressing his face into your shoulder trying to go back to sleep. "Xiao and Kazuha are back!!" Venti yelled as he burst open the locked door, you flinched. "Shut up.." Scaramouche said in a raspy voice. "No, your hogging Y/n! I want my dove!" Venti says walking over to the bed and pulling your arm.

Scaramouche quickly realized this and got up and grabbed your other hand. "Let go!" Venti said. "No they're mine!" Scaramouche growled at him. "Ow..." You whispered as they pulled your arms but Venti heard it, and quickly stopped. Venti quickly jumped on the bed and hugged you. "Oh, dove I'm so sorry!" He said. "Hey, let go of them!" Scaramouche said still pulling your arm. "Can't you see its hurting them? Do you want them to leave you like every one else?" Venti said.

Scaramouche crossed his arms. "They can't even if they want to." He said. "Fine, but still!" Venti whined. Scaramouche growled and left the room. "He's gone now!" Venti said and smiled as he put his forehead to yours. "Y/n, can you come here?" Kazuha asked standing in the doorway. "But, but I just got them back, Scaramouche was hogging them.." Venti whined out. "That's not my problem, come on Y/n." Kazuha said and motioned for you to come to him. You slowly got up and walked to him and Venti whined.

"I knew you'd come to me." Kazuha said as he smiled. He grabbed your hand and walked to the kitchen. "Do you want some food?" He asked. You are hungry... You nodded and he smiled and let go of your hand. He walked further in the kitchen and told you to sit on the couch. As Kazuha was cooking you heard Xiao talking to Venti. You heard Venti squeal in joy and saw him walk out of the room you guys were in. Xiao followed him and they both sat next to you. Venti hugged you and made you sit in his lap and he put his head on your shoulder.

"I don't know why Xiao is so shy, he:s the one who kidnapped you!~" Venti giggled as he spoke. "Venti you little-" Xiao said but got cut off by Venti tutting. "Don't curse in front of our darling!"

5 months later

It's been so long since you last were outside.. You wanted to leave so badly, and now you had a chance! You've been behaving well so they would trust you, and finally they all are out of the house, while you aren't chained up! You walked to the door and unlocked it, then you opened it and walked outside. You closed the door and walked towards the gate. It would be hard to climb but you had to do it quickly you don't know when they'll be back..

Once you got on the other side you jumped off and sat on the ground for a moment. You then got up and looked around, the house was surrounded by a forest. You didn't know where to go so you just, started walking.

Time skip cus I'm lazy 🤗

You've been running for a while, everything looks so similar... You were so tired, so you sat down next to a tree to catch your breath. You panted you're probably far from the house by now. It started raining aswell.. They probably know you're gone by now, you need to keep going until you find people.. but youre so tired. You tiredly stood up and started walking, but you slipped on mud and fell on your face. "Oww.." You mumbled and sat up.

You heard rustling in a bush, it scared you, what if it was one of them? You quickly stood up and ran you looked behind you and saw a bunny pop up from the bush. You sighed and looked forward again, you tripped and stumbled on a rock you fell on your face again. You were pretty annoyed at that point but then you heard creaking. You were confused you looked up and saw a tree starting to fall. You tried to crawl away but it fell too soon and the tree falls on your foot. You scream in pain and tears start to form in your eyes. You were in so much pain and yet that wasn't even your biggest problem. You were stuck. Your foot is stuck underneath and you were tired. One little nap wouldn't hurt, right?

"Get up." You heard someone say. You groaned and shook your head. "I said get up." They said in a ruder way. You whined and looked up. You saw Scaramouche. "Fucking finally." He said as he leaned down and cupped your face. "And I found you first at that." He chuckled angrily. He let go of your face and used his vision to get the tree off of your foot. You quickly pulled your foot back and he let the tree back down. Scaramouche picked you up and slung you over his shoulder. "We're going back home then, I'll sort out your punishment." He said and you whimpered..

Another time skip sorry

"Y/n!!" Venti exclamed as he hugged you. "Why did you ever think that it was okay to leave us? Hmm my dove?" You didn't respond. "He asked a question." Scaramouche said. "I don't know.." You said as you fidget with your hands. "That's okay, you'll just have to learn to not I suppose." Venti said as he smiled. Venti picks you up bridal style he giggled and brought you to the basement. The others follow. He sets you a familiar bed. "Whats her punishment Scara, you found her." Venti asked. "Don't call me that. And I can think of one, breaking their legs so definitely can't leave again." Scaramouche said. "W-wait I'm sorry please don't!" You said. "You shouldn't have escaped then." Scaramouche said.

Idk how to write that, so after he broke your legs 😚

You were crying on your bed as Venti rubbed your back. "Hey, it's okay." He said. "It's not okay, nothing is okay about this!" You yelled. Venti grabbed your ankle roughly and you yelped in pain. "What's so wrong about it?" He asked in a dark tone. "Y-You kidnapped me, hurt me a-and say 'oh but I love you!' what did you think I was gonna think about this?" You responded and Venti sighed. "My dove, we're doing it for you, it's a dangerous world out there. You had a tree fall on your foot, of course I'm gonna want to keep you safe.." He said and smiled softly but he still held your hurt ankle.

You sniffled and laid back down knowing nothing you say will get through to him.

#xiao x reader angst #yandere xiao #yandere venti #yandere scaramouche #yandere kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #Scaramouche x reader angst #venti x reader #venti x reader angst #kazuha x reader

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cheeseceli · 20 days

Text

Slow Motion

Pairing: Lee Felix × Gn!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, reverse comfort

Prompt: "you're my escape from reality, you know what you mean to me"

Warnings: not proofread

A/n: I'm not sure about the final results but I do hope you guys like it nevertheless! | join the 1k event !

Sometimes, the world crumbles down.

Felix is usually optimistic, with a sunshine personality, and that's something he likes about himself. It makes him go through those occasional "ends of the world" more easily. However, it doesn't work all the time.

Today it felt like an apocalypse. People's voices got louder, his own thoughts couldn't seem to be kind and the pressure of the world was drowning him. For a second he couldn't breathe, nor stop the tears from falling down.

Suddenly he hears a familiar ringtone, your call id showing up on his cell phone screen. He picked it up before he could even process it, your voice echoing through the speakers of his phone.

He remembers how he was scared of crying in front of you in the beginning of the relationship. He wanted to portray himself as strong, someone you could rely on. Breaking down in front of you wouldn't give you the desired impression. But then again, he is used to calling you "angel", and you proved to be a real one in his life.

You would constantly save him day by day. No matter if he wanted to cry, shout or run away, you were there for him. Just your presence always calmed him down. You seemed to be his portal to another reality, one he felt at ease. At peace.

"Lix? Are you listening?" He heard you again. You probably asked him something, he's not sure about that, but he couldn't bring himself to have a proper conversation right now. He just wanted to hear you.

"Are you busy right now?"

"I just arrived home, why?"

"Could you talk to me?"

There was silence for a bit, until you replied "I just finished reading a book. Do you want me to tell you about it?"

He smiled weakly. You understood what he meant perfectly, you always did. You would start talking and, like medicine, your voice would heal him for tonight.

"It would be perfect if you did."

Masterlist | you'll probably like: we cry together

Thank you for reading 💙

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

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bagopucks · 1 year

Text

J. Hughes - As Sure As It Gets

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 4.6k

Warning(s): none? Angst? Miscommunication?

This was proofread once and written during a nasty headache.

—————————————

“Jack, you’re my best friend.. and I know that..” I had to pause to find the right words. Jack was home for the summer. Home with his family, and I stupidly thought I couldn’t hide my feelings any longer.

“Your best friend?” Jack smirked, leaning into my side, where he’d been for the past hour, binging comedy sitcoms with me. He was practically laying on me, but I never minded. Jack was always a space invader. The best kind, in my opinion. Cuddly and gentle.

“Yeah.” My heart hurt to hear the excitement in his tone when he repeated my words. Maybe best friends was all he wanted to be.

“What’s up?” Jack pressed on, knowing by the tone in my voice that there was more.

“Jack-“ I sighed, glancing down at my lap, where I had been playing with Jack’s hands, occasionally running my fingers over the bracelet I made for him a week ago. The one he never took off. Because it was a symbol of our friendship.

When I didn’t continue, Jack gently moved one of his hands from my own to rest on my thigh.

“I’m listening.”

“Did you ever think about us.. as maybe more than friends?” I knew he had when we were little. Because when we were little, Jack was obsessed with me. Always running across the street with dandelions or flowers from his mother’s garden to knock on my door and give them to me. I used to love the flowers, but Jack had to stop that eventually when Ellen’s plants kept dying. At one point, little Jack, as mischievous as he was, stole his mother’s wedding band to propose to me. Granted we were only kids, and those feelings meant nothing, because they weren’t romantic. But Jack used to think I was the prettiest girl in the room.

“What?” Jack giggled, and I was too caught up in the fact that he was laughing to acknowledge the nervous sound in his voice. “No. Why? We’re best friends.” Jack squeezed my thigh. “Silly.”

Silly. Just like my delusional hope that he felt the same way. My heart shattered. Tears sprung to my eyes, but I tried my best to wipe them away without disturbing the boy pressed into my side. I stared down the tv, as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. Jack and I never bothered to look at one another. But at one point I did notice the way his hand raised to his face. No doubt biting one of his nails, which was a nervous habit he had. Had I made him uncomfortable?

When I got the confidence to speak again, I carefully rubbed a hand through his hair to gain his attention. My eyes were no doubt red from holding back tears, but in the dark, Jack would have been none the wiser. He tilted his head back to look at me.

“Yeah?”

“I should get going..” I was slow to slip out from beneath him. Jack’s lips immediately pulled into a frown. I never left the Hughes house this early.

“You have to stay. The episode’s not even over.”

“Sorry, Jack. I’m just too tired. Ask Lu to watch it with you.”

“Lukey’s boring.” Jack’s small whine of complaint would have been amusing if not for the pulsing pain in my chest. I forced out a laugh nonetheless and started to make my way over to the door. It was only then that Jack completely sat up and stared me down, a sad look in his eyes that I didn’t completely understand. I slipped my shoes on and eyed him in the silence.

“You’re really leaving?”

“Yes, Jack.”

“But we were gonna do milkshakes.” The disappointment in his tone frustrated me. The last thing I wanted to do was be around him.

“We’ll do ‘em some other time, Jack.” I sighed, shaking my head and grabbing my purse. A few tears finally slipped down my cheeks.

“Did I do something?” I heard Jack stand up, and I immediately reached for the door, opening it.

“No.. no Jack. Goodnight.”

Perhaps it was a harsh way to leave him. We hadn’t spoken for a week. An insufferably long week. I pushed him aside when he asked about hanging out. I told him I wasnt home when he asked to come over. I told him I didn’t have time when he offered to take me out. And each time he texted, I’d cry. I’d remember how he wanted nothing more than a friendship, and my heart would break all over again.

“He can have anybody. I should have known it was just in my head.” Eventually the sadness became overshadowed by anger. Frustration in myself for ever letting my feelings get as far as they had.

“I could have sworn he had a thing for you.” Madison muttered as she leaned against the cafe table we were seated at. The one I took Jack to frequently before I decided to ignore his existence.

“Apparently not.” I snapped softly. “He’s just like that.. that’s just the way Jack is. He’s touchy and sweet- and cuddly, and he probably did the same thing with Ty before he left.” My voice could barely balance itself, overwhelmed with emotion as I felt tears well up in my eyes. What hurt the most was knowing Jack probably wasn’t even phased by the fact that we weren’t talking much, or seeing each other. He probably just assumed everything was fine. This was one of those things I couldn’t see Jack about. I couldn’t cry on his shoulder about a broken heart, because he was the one who broke it. And he didn’t even know.

“Maybe you just need to find another guy. I mean, you’ve never known anybody as deeply as you knew Jack. Maybe a contender might help. And you have shit to look forward to! Like your birthday coming up! Did you make plans?”

“Not really…”

“We should do something!”

“I don’t know.”

“We could go out for drinks and get you laid. I think that’s a flawless plan.”

“What about Jack?”

“Think of it as the beginning of you forgetting about him.”

“I’ll think about it.” I wouldn’t. I knew for a fact the Hughes would want to do something, and as hard as it was to think about Jack, I’d still rather spend my night with a family who cared about me, than a man looking to get lucky.

——————

“Hey, mom?”

Ellen smiled at the sound of her son’s voice. Filling that silence she grew used to over the years of her boys being gone. She looked up from the magazine in her hands, taking in the usual disheveled appearance of her middle child. She wasn’t oblivious to the change in his behaviors as of recent, but seeing as he wasn’t going to be an open book about it, she never asked more than once.

“What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you, just real quick?”

“Yeah, hun. What’s-“

“It has to be fast. I’m up to play Quinn in ping pong next.” Ellen smiled at her son. He always thought he was slick, finding excuses to make their emotional conversations brief. To act like whatever was on his mind, wasn’t truly that bothersome.

“Pop a squat sweet pea.” Jack quickly plopped down in the deck chair across from Ellen. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed, leaning back and getting comfortable. Too comfortable for the supposed “short” conversation they were going to have. “What’s going on?”

“Do you know..” Jack’s hands fell into his lap, fidgeting with them aimlessly. “How to apologize for something.. when you don’t know what you did wrong?”

Ellen’s brow furrowed, and she closed the magazine in her hands.

“Who’s mad at you?”

“Uh.. nobody. I was just- asking.”

“Is it one of your brothers?”

“No.. it’s just- the other night, at the house when I had-“

“Did you upset her? What did you say?”

Ellen knew it was me before he even said my name.

“I didn’t say anything.” Jack brought his hand up to his face, resting his cheek on his fist and propping his elbow up on the arm of the chair. “She asked me if I ever thought of us as more than friends.”

“What’s wrong with that? You like her, don’t you?” Jack shrugged, a deep frown tugging at the corners of his quivering lips. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Ellen cooed, slowly leaning forward.

“I told her no.”

“What?” She set her magazine aside. “Why?”

“Because she’ll end up hating me!” Jack began to wipe at the tears forming in his eyes. Ellen stared him down in disbelief.

“How many years have you guys been friends? She’s put up with you this long.”

“But it’s different.. if we get into a relationship and she decides she hates me, it’ll ruin our friendship.” Jack choked on a breath of air and sighed. “She’s my best friend, mom. What if I ruin it?” Ellen slowly stood up and closed the short distance between herself and her son. She reached out to him, and sighed when Jack fell forward, his forehead pressed into her stomach as his arms wrapped around her legs.

“Sometimes I wish you’d just tell me these things before you work yourself up this much over them.” Ellen whispered as she ran one of her hands through Jack’s hair. “Jack, I don’t think you could possibly ruin anything between you two. I raised you to be a kind and respectful person. You’ve never hurt a girl before, have you?” He shook his head, a quiet sniffle catching the attention of his mother, who moved the hand rubbing his back to carefully guide his head away from her body. She tilted his chin upwards. “And even if something happens and you two decide to stay friends, I doubt she’ll just walk away.”

“She won’t spend time with me now.” Jack whispered, trying to stop himself from breathing as hard as he was, while his mother wiped the tears from his cheeks.

“Because she’s hurt, Jack.”

“‘Cause I hurt her.” Ellen could see the tears forming again.

“You can fix it honey, I promise. It’s not too late to figure it out.”

——————

“It’s refreshing to get out of the house. Jack’s been such a let down lately.” Quinn griped as he turned down the next street. I didn’t know why I turned Madison down to go out. I dreaded seeing Jack, but spending the day with Quinn helped me ease into the idea of spending an evening around him.

“Thanks for the birthday celebration today.” I spoke with a small smile.

“No problem. I enjoyed it. Especially that cake you dropped.”

“I didn’t drop it!”

“Yes you did! You’re lucky the thing had a lid, or we would have been eating cake off the concrete.”

“Bold of you to assume I was eating concrete cake.”

“You like the gift though, yeah?” Quinn swiftly switched the conversation on me, and I chuckled softly.

“It’s perfect, considering I’ve only been asking for Canucks gear for a year now.” I teased, tugging at the sides of the Canucks beanie I wore on my head.

“I’ll take it back.” Quinn threatened as he pulled into the driveway of the Hughes’ household. My gaze drifted to the house, and my smile slowly faltered.

“Mom’s been cooking all day. She even got our dad to help.” Quinn turned the car off and quickly climbed out. I hesitated, and he must have taken that as a hint, seeing as he opened the door for me when he got around to my side. I had no choice but to slip out of the car and follow him to the front door. I could smell the food the second Quinn pulled the door open. We both inhaled at the same time, an excited look taking over Quinn’s features. His usual dark and brooding demeanor completely gone.

“Mom! I got her!” Quinn called, and I gently shoved his shoulder.

“I’m not a package.” I scolded.

“Trust me, I know. Nobody would pay for you.”

“Hey! Don’t be mean!” Luke piped up as soon as he stepped into the entryway to greet us. “I’d pay for you.” I assumed Luke was trying to be kind, but it hadn’t come out the way he wanted it to, which left us three laughing softly.

“Glad to know. At least I’d have one supporter if my first profession doesn’t work out.” I held my arms out, and Luke was quick to hug me.

“That’s nasty.” Quinn commented, seeing as I put a visual in his head that he certainly didn’t want. “Go talk to Jack about that.” It was a thoughtless quip. One he knew better than to speak after his mother informed him of the situation, but one he hadn’t thought twice about saying because he said similar things all the time. I cringed, and Luke gave me an extra squeeze. I had no clue that either of these boys knew of my situation with Jack. When Luke pulled away, Ellen was standing in the doorway waiting for her turn. We lunged at each other the second we made eye contact, Ellen pulling me into one of the tightest hugs I’d ever received.

“Oh how I missed you!” She laughed softly. “Jim did too, believe it or not.” It was my turn to laugh.

“Where’s he at?” I questioned as we pulled apart.

“In the kitchen with Jack.” My heart sank. I hadn’t been as prepared as I thought I was. “Come on!” Ellen grabbed my hand and led me off down the hall. I drew in a deep breath, soothed by the smell of her cooking, and quickly stressed by the sight of Jack when I stepped into the kitchen with the woman.

“Hey! Birthday girl’s finally here!” Jim shouted, abandoning the pan on the stove to hug me. I laughed at his excitement.

“Jim! I told you to stir that!” Ellen left my side to rush toward the pan. Jim pulled away from me to look back at his wife.

“I just wanted to say hi.”

“I got it, now.” Ellen waved him off, and I found myself giggling at them before my gaze trailed toward Jack, seated at the table with a hopeful smile on his face.

“Hey!” I had to remind myself that he hadn’t really been affected by my confession. That the joy in his tone was from the fact that this was the first time we’d seen each other in a good week and a half. I couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Jack’s hope was merely a cover for how worried he was that our friendship was already falling apart. He was trying to look excited while mentally he berated himself over missing his chance with me.

“Hey, J.” I prayed for a distraction, and thankfully it presented itself when Luke came rushing into the room to grab my arm.

“You have to pick our movie tonight.”

“It’s my turn!” Quinn shouted from the living room.

Jim scoffed and leaned against the counter.

“Quinn and I will compromise on something. We’ve spent the whole day together, I practically know him like the back of my hand now.” I joked softly. “Go tell your brother to calm down.” Luke nodded and slipped back out of the room. I turned to look back at Jim and Ellen.

“Happy birthday.” Jack’s voice made me cringe. I forced a smile and looked toward him to nod, but my brow furrowed when I noticed the falseness in his smile, fidgeting with his hands.

“Dinner will be ready soon, if you kids wanna go sit in the living room and find that movie.” Ellen suggested.

“Got a time estimate on that?” I watched her head whip back in my direction, smiles painting our lips.

“Ten minutes,” she answered with a chuckle. I nodded and swiftly left to find Quinn and Luke in the living room.

“Quinn, hand over the remote.” I held my hand out, and watched Quinn roll his eyes before placing the tv remote in my hand.

“We’ll pick something together.”

“Oh no! It’s your birthday. Nobody wants what I want.” I chuckled at Quinn’s dramatic acting.

“You hit the nail on the head, Q.” I teased, only to earn a glare from him. We spent the next ten minutes arguing over a movie before Ellen called us into the kitchen again. There was a swift prayer said over the food, and Ellen began preparing plates before guiding everybody into the living room. Usually we ate at the table, but seeing as it was a special occasion, Ellen was lenient.

I plopped down on the couch beside Quinn, Luke quickly invading my space on the other side. I’d admit it felt weird, because Jack always sat beside me, but I tried not to think much of it. Until he came into the room and sat in the arm chair diagonal to the couch. We spared each other cautious glances, and Jack flashed me a hopeful smile. He was off. I couldn’t understand why.

“So,” Ellen spoke when she walked into the living room, sitting on the floor and resting her plate in her lap. “Tell me what you and Quinn did today.”

“She dragged me around until my feet hurt.”

I lightly slapped Quinn’s shoulder, and shot a glare at Luke when he laughed.

“We went to Starbucks first. Then we went to the mall and ran around for a bit. I went ahead and bought a new dress for this fund raiser I have going on next month.”

“I pitched in on that.” Quinn chimed in.

“Yes. He technically got me two things.”

“Yeah, but the beanie didn’t cost much.” He reasoned, and I shrugged.

“Anyways,” I smiled. “We stopped at Walmart after and got a small cake to share-“

“That she dropped.”

“On accident!” Luke started laughing once again, and I shot him another dirty glare. Jim seemed just as amused, and I almost expected Jack to laugh too, but when I looked in his direction, he didn’t seem to be paying much attention, merely picking at his food and occasionally looking up. I may have been heartbroken over the fact that he didn’t like me the way I did him, but I hated to see him so off. I hated that I hadn’t been able to spend my birthday with Jack, like we did every year prior.

“It was still good.” I spoke, slightly distracted by my conflicting thoughts about Jack.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Quinn still decided to play difficult.

“Seems like you two had a great day. Jim went out to do some last minute present shopping while I cooked today.” Ellen’s husband looked up at her with wide eyes.

“Damn mom,” Quinn laughed, “throwin’ dad under the bus.”

“More like ran me over.” Jim chimed in, earning a gentle nudge from Ellen.

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”

“We always do, hun.” Ellen reasoned, and she wasn’t wrong. The Hughes family always made me feel loved and special. Anybody would have been lucky to be as close to them as I was.

We conversed and discussed various things while we ate, until plates were set aside and conversation slowed. “Alright. I’ll take plates into the kitchen. You guys get the presents out.” Ellen instructed, and I watched everybody stand up and disperse. Everybody except for Jack. I eyed him for a moment, the way he brought his hand to his mouth to bite one of his nails. That spaced out look in his eyes. We started out good. He smiled at me. He greeted me. I pushed him off again…

“You good?” I finally asked.

“Fine.” Jack answered in a flat tone.

“Jack-“ I immediately stopped when Luke returned with his father. Luke held a small bag, and Jim held two wrapped boxes. When Ellen came back, with Quinn, she had a bag in her own hands. Everybody got situated in their spots again after the presents were set on the coffee table.

“Jack, honey, did you get anything?”

The middle boy looked toward his mother, shaking his head.

“I forgot.”

“That’s such a lie! You got her something like two months ago! You haven’t shut up about it since.” Luke was on the receiving end of a hard glare from Jack before the middle brother got up and stepped out of the room.

“I’ll grab it. You guys go ahead and start.” He spoke.

“Open mine first.” Luke suggested, and I nodded. Opening presents always went by quickly with the Hughes. Luke got me a Polaroid camera and a few packs of extra film. Something I never asked for, but was certainly elated to get. A gift that I was excited to use over the summer. Ellen had informed me that her mother had helped with her gift, which happened to be my very own Grandma Hughes blanket. With three little logos in the bottom, being the teams the boys play for, and my name embroidered in cursive on the other corner. Jim had gotten me a mug and tried to tie it in with his wife’s gift. I assured him the mug would be put to good use, and that I loved it. When it came down to Jack, Ellen called for him. We waited for a while before she let out a sigh.

“I’ll go find him.”

“Let me do it.” I slowly stood up from the couch. Ellen smiled at me and nodded. I didn’t expect my birthday to go by as smoothly as it did, but I knew there was tension between Jack and I. We just needed to talk. When I got up to his bedroom, I gently knocked on the door before pushing the cracked door open. Jack was on his bed, staring down at a little box and twisting a lock of hair between his fingers.

“Jack?” I must have startled him, hearing the gasp he drew in as he looked up at me. He looked teary eyed.

“I’m fine.” He insisted before I asked, his hand falling away from his hair. “I got this for you.” He held out the box, but it was the last thing I was interested in when my best friend looked absolutely heartbroken. I took the box from his hand and set it down on his nightstand.

“What’s going on?” I sat down on the edge of his bed. “Just a bad day?”

“A bad week.” I bit down on my bottom lip. I knew it was my fault. “I missed you.” He looked down at his bed.

“I’m sorry Jack.. I should have made time to spend with you.”

“It’s okay.” He sniffled. “You were upset.. it’s my fault. I ruined it.” I raised a brow.

“What did you ruin, Jack?”

“Our friendship.”

“Jack it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have asked you that question anyway. If anything it’s on me.. and if you don’t feel the same, it’s fine-“

“I like you too.” Jack’s voice came out in a whisper.

“You don’t have to lie now.” I felt the tears spring to my eyes, looking away.

“No I mean it. I do. I was afraid- in the beginning.. I got scared. I didn’t wanna lose you. I’ve liked you for- for forever. But I was afraid it would ruin our friendship.” I tensed when I felt Jack’s hand rest on my thigh. “I wanna be with you so bad.”

I looked back at him, my brow knitted together in disbelief. “Are you sure?” I wiped the tears from my eyes.

“So sure.” Jack looked up at me, and the silence was almost deafening. “I’m sorry I messed this whole thing up.” His eyes trailed back down to the bed, but I was quick to cup his jaw in my hand, bringing his attention back to myself.

“You didn’t mess anything up, Jack.” I insisted. “Just added a few pages to a chapter that could have ended a week ago.” I joked gently.

“I guess so.”

“Oh, stop that.” I gently rubbed his cheek with my thumb. “We’re on the same page now. There’s nothing to worry about.” I shimmied up the length of his bed and leaned back against the headboard. “Come here.” I patted the space next to myself, and Jack quickly moved up to sit beside me. I grabbed the small box from his nightstand and rested it in my lap. He still seemed a bit upset, but I had no doubt he was only beating himself up. He glanced down at the small box in my lap.

“I can return it if you don’t like it.” He spoke softly, but the last thing I wanted to do was return a gift from the boy who just confessed his love for me.

“You know I never return a Jack Hughes birthday gift.” I reminded him as I slowly tore the colorful wrapping paper off. I tried to fight the excitement in my chest when I felt the velvet on the box. It was jewelry.

Jack leaned into my side, one of his hands resting gently against the side of my thigh while I lifted the box and slowly opened it. My heart raced. I gasped. I sat up so quickly that Jack’s teeth chattered when my shoulder hit the underside of his jaw.

“Oh my god!”

“You like it?” Jack asked as he rubbed his face. I turned to look at him.

“It’s beautiful! Jack you have to put it on!” I quickly removed the cushion the necklace sat on. A dainty silver chain with an equally dainty heart charm on it. Something tiny, but elegant in its own manner. I removed the necklace from the cushion and handed it over to him.

“Where’d you find it?” I asked while he worked on undoing the clasp.

“New Jersey. My mom helped me find it for you when she visited last.” He wrapped the necklace around my neck, and I had trouble containing my smile. Once he got the clasp redone, I reached up to run my fingers across the chain.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t like it when I got it.. ‘cause it looked like something for a couple-“ I turned back in Jack’s direction and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

“God it’s a good thing we like each other then, huh?” Jack’s silence made me slowly pull away.

“Huh?”

“Because it’s a thing for a couple.” I reminded him of his previous words, and it seemed to take Jack a moment to understand before a smile parted his lips.

“We can do that?”

“Absolutely we can.” I allowed my arms to hang lazily over his shoulders.

“Man, I was so nervous.. I thought you’d change your mind or- god I don’t know..”

“Jack.” I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I have loved you for years now. My mind was made up a long time ago.” His big smile was such a contrast to the frown from before.

“You’re sure?”

“Ask me one more time, Hughes.” I whispered.

“You’re sure?”

I slowly leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“As sure as it gets, lovely.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #quinn hughes #luke hughes

691 notes · View notes

bimrwolf · 2 years

Text

The Things We Don't Say

steve harrington x afab!reader words: 17,418 warnings: smut ! 18+ (minors dni) summary: Steve Harrington once was the bane of Y/n's existence. He had always been an arrogant asshole and a terrible kisser. She never understood how others fell for the boy's eye-roll worthy charm. Now it seems like he will do anything to prove her wrong about anything. a/n: this is my first steve fic and it turned into a very long one shot

There was something sweet when it was the time of year that it wasn’t too cold to be winter nor too warm to be Spring. The leaves on the trees began to grow back to their vibrants green. Dandelions started to sprout on the side of the roads. Lawns needed to be mowed from the cool showers that casted over Hawkins, Indiana.

Sweaters, cold cheeks, and hot tea, sitting on her porch swing, watching the sunset and streetlights cast their glow on the streets, telling children it’s their time to retreat back into their homes to get rested for the next day— to do it all over again. In Hawkins, it sometimes felt like the day repeated itself.

Graduation was creeping around the corner. College rejection letters flooded her mailbox. Choices were slimming down every week.

Maybe if she had focused better in school.

That’s why she found herself on a chilly Saturday evening with her friend, Heather Holloway, at Daniel Brown’s house.

It was a small gathering. Soft music, beer, and the smell of weed and cigarettes. A few couples making out in dark corners. People who would never interact at school making out in the backyard next to the crackling bonfire. High school was weird.

Heather only wanted to come because Daniel and her had gone on two dates and now suddenly she believed the two of them were going to be married.

Y/n didn’t despise parties, she always went to them if she were invited, but they only seemed fun when she was plastered and couldn’t remember anything. Too bad she was the designated driver tonight.

She pulled at the shirt she wore as the two of them stood in the corner, silently gossiping at who was there, and who was with who. Heather swatted her hand. “Stop. I told you already. You look great.”

She groaned. “You’re legally obliged to say that because you’re my friend.” She didn’t care what she looked like, but today was a day where her clothes seemed to snug her, making her feel uncomfortable and awkward.

“Wasn’t Billy with Vanessa on Monday?” Heather motioned toward the couch. Billy Hargrove had his hand dangerously close to Penny Melton’s privates, nibbling her ear.

“Are you that surprised?” She gave Heather a knowing look.

The front door opened, bringing in a wave of cold air that stung her cheeks. She rolled her eyes at who walked in.

A perky boobed brunette with rosy cheeks and small hips sauntered in. Right behind her, Steve Harrington, his hand around her shoulders. His dark locks were styled in his signature updo, a tiny loose curl clinged to his forehead.

The couple walked past them, and she couldn’t help but smirk at their visible similarities. “Hey, Harrington. Didn’t know you had a sister.”

The girl looked up at Steve, gasping, tearing away from him and storming off. Steve threw his head back. He looked at her, not amused. “Can you not be unbearable for once?” He asked her.

“Be careful not to step too close to the fire outside. Hairspray is flammable, y’know?” She gave him a cheeky grin.

Steve paid no mind, storming off to find his date.

“Remind me why you hate Steve so much?” Heather asked in amusement.

“Since he ditched you to swap spit with Kelly Sullivan.” She answered.

“That was sophomore year.” Heather stated.

“Freshman.” She corrected her.

Heather held out her arms dramatically. “See! It’s not a big deal. I don’t even remember. If I kissed him now, I feel like I would be kissing all the girls in Hawkins.”

Y/n gagged at the description. “Ew. You dodged a bullet.”

“Rumor has it that he’s not a douche anymore. I don’t know what that Nancy girl did to him, but apparently he’s a saint now.” Heather’s words sounded like a joke.

Y/n nudged Heather. They watched Billy grab Penny’s hand and led her upstairs.

She wished the couch hadn’t been infested with sex germs so she could sit down. Her feet were killing her.

Heather took a sip of her beer she had in her hand. Wiping her mouth, she then tapped her chin, thinking. “He was your first kiss.”

“Who?” Y/n was caught off guard. “Oh. Well, that’s a memory I suppress into the back of my mind. Worst kiss of my life.”

“Not what you said in eighth grade. I can’t believe he took your wet dream virginity.” Heather sighed. “I remember my first like it was yesterday. Harrison Ford could do anything to me.”

“I’m never telling you anything again.” She bounced off the wall and walked to the table full of beverages and snacks. She picked up a bottle of water. Heather had followed her, leaning against the table.

“Admit it. You have no reasonable explanation to hate Steve Harrington.” Her friend took a chip out of one of the bowls, popping it in her mouth.

“I don’t even hate him. He’s just insufferable, arrogant, and a bad kisser.” She needed fresh air from this interrogation. “Don’t you need to go find Daniel or something like that.”

“Your lack of knowledge about flirting is astounding. My plan is to be here, look cute, and then leave. When he sees me Monday at school, he’ll ask me why we didn’t talk tonight.”

Y/n was grateful that the conversation had moved elsewhere. “That’s not even flirting.” She led them to the backyard where most everyone was. She noticed Steve had made up with his date— his tongue was down her throat.

“How would you know?” Heather questioned, scanning the yard, smiling when she noticed Daniel over by a group of his friends. She pushed up her boobs and laughed loudly like Y/n had said something hilarious. She frowned when he didn’t look their way.

As the night went on more laughter and conversations were told into the chill air. It felt good to be young.

—

Y/n was not having a good summer. Heather was the only one between the two of them who was hired at the pool.

Summer was now the last bit of time Y/n would get to spend with her before Heather went off to NYU.

Y/n’s grades only managed to get her into a community college about forty-five minutes outside of Hawkins. So, she felt like she wasn’t even leaving.

Although she managed to get a job at the Gap at the newly opened Starcourt mall, their schedules seemed to never align.

It was one particular day that Y/n finally had a day off. She didn’t feel like going to the pool. Or doing much of anything. She wanted to lie in her room and read her newest magazine with a cold glass of lemonade. But instead she found herself in the parking lot of Starcourt.

This was her new hobby. She would browse all the stores, pick up things she wanted and place them back because she was saving her money. Then she would go bother her co-workers for a few minutes, sometimes buying an item she had been eyeing for the past few weeks. She did get an employee discount after all. Then she would head out and go home to get ready for the next day.

But on this particular day as she passed the food court, one of the shops caught her attention. It was a small shop, decorated in red, white, and blue. The front of a boat was next to the entrance. Y/n had heard good things about Scoops Ahoy. Some even rivaled it with Baskin-Robbins.

She entered the shop, eyeing the striped walls and checkered flooring. The theme was cute. She had seen a glimpse of their uniforms when workers would walk by the store, and she was glad the Gap let her wear what she wanted.

She got behind a girl with curly blonde hair, and she was giggling at whatever the cashier was saying. Five minutes had gone by and the girl hadn’t moved yet. Y/n peered over the girl’s shoulder, and nearly doubled over in laughter.

Steve Harrington was on the other side of the counter, leaned over, and wore that silly sailor uniform. He looked ridiculous. It almost made up for waiting almost seven minutes to get a damn scoop of ice cream. Y/n sighed. She guessed she would have to take matters into her own hands.

She pushed past the girl, who let out a large huff, almost dropping the ice cream cone in her hand. “Stevie!” Y/n squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck, planting a wet sloppy kiss on his cheek.

Steve’s face was priceless. His eyes nearly popped out of his sockets and mouth agape. “Wha-”

He didn’t even get to finish because Y/n pushed his jaw back up. “Sweetheart, you’ll catch flies.” She turned around to face the girl who looked pissed. “Sorry, haven’t seen my boyfriend in a few days. He’s getting over mono.”

The girl let out a sound of disgust, pivoting on her heels and stormed out of the ice cream parlor.

Y/n’s face fell and quickly let go of Steve. “Okay, now that the horrendous sight of Steve Harrington trying to flirt is over with. Can you tell me the specials?”

Her attention was dragged to a pair of tiny doors opening behind him. A girl with medium length brown hair held a board with one side being You Rule and the other being You Suck. There were three tallies on the You Suck side. She drew another, making it four. “Some girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve looked embarrassed and livid all at the same time when he turned back around to look at Y/n. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Is this you breaking up with me?” Y/n clutched her chest.

“Isn’t there a sign outside that says no pests?” He asked her.

“Didn’t know they were so desperate for workers they allowed dipshits to apply.”

His co-worker let out a cackle. Y/n noticed her name tag said Robin. “Oh, I like her, Harrington. Can I keep her?”

He growled, moving over to the freezer that held the ice cream. “Just pick a flavor.”

Y/n ignored Steve and focused on the girl. “I can’t believe someone took my job on being the bane of Steve’s existence.”

Robin shrugged. “He makes it so easy.”

“I know, right?” She laughed with her.

Steve coughed.

She rolled her eyes and looked at him. Robin retreated into the backroom. “So, is it true you’re not a pretentious dick anymore?”

“I guess you could say that.” Steve answered, averting his eyes elsewhere. There seemed to be a shade of pink that pricked his cheeks and nose.

“Does that mean you bring girls back to your place on the second date instead of the first?”

He didn’t answer.

She sighed, looking up at the menu above him with all the flavors and combinations. “I would ask what you would recommend, but I feel like it’s vanilla.”

He gave her a sarcastic ha.

He thought for a moment before taking a scoop and making a cone of a golden brown ice cream, dark chocolate pieces poking out. “Here.” He walked to the cash register and held it over the counter.

“What is it?” Y/n narrowed her eyes.

“Ice cream.” Steve replied in a “duh” tone. He pushed it closer for her to take.

“Obviously.” She mumbled, taking it out of his hand. His fingers grazed hers, and she swore she felt a tingle. “Peanut Butter Cluster Delight.” He stood back, crossing his arms. Y/n took note on how his biceps hugged the sleeves of his uniform. She took a bite, the many flavors almost seemed overwhelming at first, but then they melted together smoothly against her tongue. She wouldn’t admit it to Steve, but he chose something delightful and delicious.

His face was scrunched up, cringing. “You bite your ice cream?”

“Shut up. How much do I owe you?” She dug into her back pocket to pull out some money.

Steve held out a hand, stopping her. “It’s on me.”

“You poisoned it. That’s what’s going on, isn’t it?” Y/n was somewhat convinced he had done something to it. Yet, she took another bite.

He smirked. “No, but what kind of boyfriend would I be if I made you pay?”

She almost smiled. Almost.

—

Y/n never expected to find herself physically fighting her best friend. She tried her best calling her name, reminding her who she was. She recounted stories and memories, but when she looked into Heather’s eyes. There was nothing but a cold dark stare.

Nancy Wheeler tried to warn her Heather would come after her. But she didn’t believe her.

When she arrived home after work, there Heather was, sitting on Y/n’s bed. Everything about her was different. Her stoic expression, straight posture, the black protruding veins in her neck.

“It will only hurt a little.” Whoever was possessing Heather said, as it pinned Y/n against her bedroom floor.

Y/n turned her head, sobbing, staring at the shaggy carpet. She could see dirty socks and loose change scattered. Would the old pink nail polish stain be the last thing she saw when she died? She closed her eyes, thinking about her favorite things. Hot tea with honey. The warm buttery vanilla smell that engulfed the house when her mother made cookies. The cold nights she spent on her porch swing. Peanut Butter Cluster Delight flavored ice cream. The smell of sea salt soap that reminded her of the beach. Laughing with her best friend about stupid boys. Crying with her best friend about moving off.

She snapped her eyes open. This was not Heather. Y/n screamed, lifting her hand up and whacking the creature’s head, forcing the thing to fly off her body.

Almost on cue, her bedroom door flew open. Nancy and her boyfriend Jonathan Byers stormed in holding weapons. She was dragged out of her house and forced to hide with them in a cabin in the middle of the woods with a bunch of kids. She tried to wrap her mind around this world they had been living in while she was worried about simple things like what to wear and who was kissing who. The life she had been living suddenly felt mundane and meaningless compared to theirs.

It was even more mind boggling when a slimy creature broke through the cabin and this girl– Eleven– used her mind to fight off a slimy tentacled creature. Y/n felt dazed as she stood off to the side, watching these people fight it so nonchalantly. Like it was their job.

They made a new safe haven in the supermarket so they could clean Eleven’s very large cut on her leg. Y/n felt queasy as the blood oozed and sputtered out. She broke off with Nancy and Jonathan, off to find soap and water. “So, this thing,” Y/n began. “You’ve fought it before?”

Nancy shared a look with Jonathan. “Listen, you’re just here so we can protect you from becoming like Heather. Possibly, from turning into that thing you saw.”

Y/n’s jaw ticked. “That didn’t answer my question.”

Nancy sighed, handing the water and soap to Jonathan and motioning for him to keep going. “No. Well, maybe. But it’s different now. It’s too complicated, and it’s best if you don’t get involved.”

She scoffed. “It’s a little too late for me not to be involved.”

Before the oldest Wheeler could answer, sounds of Mike yelling could be heard. The two of them jogged over to see what the issue was.

Next thing Y/n knew, they were heading back to the one place she felt like she couldn’t escape.

She led them through a secret hallway to the upstairs when they noticed a group of men dressed in black with guns. Mike whispered he could see his friend that they were looking for, and the gunmen were going straight to them. There was a look of relief on the group downstairs when El made a car crash into the strangers.

Although she had just seen a real life monster and a girl with superpowers. Nothing shocked her more than seeing no other than Steve Harrington in his stupid little sailor uniform, arguing with the group, letting Y/n know this wasn’t his first time either.

When he noticed her standing meekly behind Nancy, he pointed at her, shaking his head. “Who the hell brought her along?”

“Nice seeing you too, Harrington. What happened to your face? Lost a fight to a revolving door?” She shot back quickly. The kids all looked at one another. They were at a loss for words.

“Jesus.” He groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Cut me some slack. I was just drugged and beaten to a pulp by Russians. I don’t need your shit today.”

Y/n let out a sorry. They all stared at her awkwardly, and suddenly she felt out of place. She excused herself and walked away.

Robin had come after her a few moments later, a sympathetic look on her face. They weren’t exactly friends, Y/n would say, but they’ve hung out for a few weeks while on breaks. It was enough for Robin to make sure everything was okay.

“You should have seen the shit I saw.” Y/n blew out a puff of air. “I think if I survive this, I’ll have to start smoking cigarettes.”

“That’s gross, Plus you’ll ruin your beautiful teeth.” Robin chuckled. “You missed it though. That El girl… some weird ugly slug came out of her leg.”

“Isn’t this all crazy? Like it’s almost unbelievable.” Y/n put her face into her hands. “And Harrington. Oh my god. He’s been through this before.” It hit her like a truck. His overnight shift in personality made better sense to her. There was a time when he probably was hanging out in the streets, playing baseball with a neighbor, waiting for the street lamps to turn on, telling him to get back home. He might have turned into a douchebag, but when his life was threatened, he was reminded he was just a young boy. That’s what he was. Just a young boy learning to survive.

Her new perspective on the brown eyed boy with stupid hair forced her to be silent around him. She didn’t even make fun of him when he called himself daddy as they piled into a sweet looking car to drive Dustin so he could make a large range radio signal.

Y/n felt like helping fight the monster was more bearable than sitting in the backseat and occasionally making eye contact with him. However, Nancy convinced her she didn’t want the chance of Heather finding her. Deep down, Y/n knew Nancy didn’t think she could fight off her best friend again.

She was probably right.

—-

There was a feeling Y/n had never experienced before. True gut wrenching heartbreak. The news that her best friend had perished in the end of the fight was like a knife had been twisted in her heart. She tried to remember quickly what Heather’s voice sounded like or the last time she had actually called to check on her. Her clouded mind failed her as she sat on the sidewalk, hugging herself.

She didn’t realize Steve had sat down next to her, until he offered her a bottle of water.

“Do you think they’ll mind if I call in sick tomorrow?” Y/n smiled weakly at her poor attempt to joke.

Steve let out a breathy laugh.

She noticed the blood on his face had dried, caking on his skin. It reminded her of last semester when he came to school with a black eye, and the year before that. She assumed it had been him fooling around with a girl that he shouldn’t have. Never did the idea of monsters from another dimension cross her mind.

It was at that moment that her dislike for him bubbled down. She now felt respect. She wouldn’t tell him that though.

Instead, she told him goodbye and got up to leave. She didn’t get too far before Steve called her name. “The first night is the hardest. When you’re all alone. It sucks.” He told her.

To be honest, she hadn’t thought of it that way. Alone in her room— the room she nearly died in. Even when she blinked, the nightmare she had lived flashed before her eyes. “What do you suggest I do?”

She wasn’t expecting a serious answer. She noticed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. He was nervous. “You can stay with me. So you won’t be alone.”

Y/n smirked. “I had it all wrong. Steve Harrington doesn’t even wait until the first date to invite a girl over.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t cream your panties. Robin will be there too.” He started walking, leading her towards Robin.

“This is your evil plan. Comforting us tonight so we'll play out your wildest fantasies?” It felt somewhat normal again, bantering back and forth. She knew he secretly enjoyed it by the way his lips tugged into a grin. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but she enjoyed it too.

——

Y/n had only been to Steve’s house a handful of times. He hasn’t hosted a party since last year, and now she knows why.

Although she was familiar with the living room, and swimming pool in the backyard, it felt different stepping into his room. It was tidy besides the clothes strewn across the floor. It was funny watching him quickly running around the room to put it in a laundry basket in his bathroom.

They all took turns taking a shower, Robin, her, and then Steve. As soon as the water hit Y/n’s skin, it felt like the tension in her shoulders relaxed. It only took a few minutes for her to wash off, but she stood there, letting the warm water hit her back. She had picked up to read the different bottles in the bathroom. Tucked away in the corner, there was a soap bottle of Sea Salt Breeze.

When she walked out of the bathroom, Robin was already passed out under the covers of his bed. Steve trekked inside the bathroom.

Y/n sat with her back against his bed, knees against her chest, listening to the soft snores coming from Robin mixed with the patter of water coming from the shower. She heard him turn the shower off, his heavy footsteps padded around the bathroom. She heard a few curses and something clatter on the floor.

It took her a moment to make the decision. She got up and softly tapped on the door. “Come in.” His voice was weak and hoarse.

She opened the door slowly, revealing Steve in a pair of grey sweatpants and a navy sleep shirt. His hair was damp and brushed back out of his face. He had his palms against the counter, looking at his swollen eye and busted lip more closely. “Everything okay?” She sounded different to him. Concerned and gentle.

He turned his head. “Yeah I’m fine.”

She didn’t seem convinced by the way she crossed her arms against her chest and her eyebrow raised slightly. Steve sighed. “I just… I’m having a hard time getting this stupid contact lense out of my eye.”

Y/n had to refrain from laughing. Not only for Robin’s sake but not to upset him even more. Her pinched lips made him groan. “I’m sorry!” She walked up to him, climbing up on the counter to sit. There she saw the case that held glasses with black frames, contact solution, and the contact holder. He must hide them from the wandering eye. “Do you need help?”

He didn’t answer.

He stood up straight and moved in front of her, leaning forward and widening his right eye. He winced because his left eye tried to widen with it. She told him to relax. Opening the eye up with her thumb and pointer finger with one hand, she used her other hand to pinch the contact out of his eyes, setting it in the holder with solution. When she turned her head back to face him, she realized how close he was.

The last time they were like this was at Carol Perkin’s birthday party in eight grade. Y/n was more than nervous when the bottle landed on her in a game of seven minutes in heaven. He had a stupid grin plastered on his young freckled face. At that age, Steve had been everyone’s first school girl crush. He was goofy and charismatic. There was also that time in seventh grade he returned that pencil he borrowed. No one had returned her pencil before.

Who wouldn’t want to kiss him?

He still had those few freckles on his face. His breath still smells like mint toothpaste. His body still smelled like she was walking along the beach. His lips were chapped and cracked. She brushed her finger over the cut dangerously close to his bottom lip. “You need to clean that. You don’t want it getting infected.”

He moved away from her, and she felt cold.

He opened the mirror above the sink, pulling out a first aid kit, coming back and handing it to her. When she gave him a look, he shrugged. “Can’t see. Remember?”

He stared at her as she took care of the wound. She knew he was. She could feel the hot blazed glare burning into her skin. It made her itch.

When she finished, he stepped back and looked into the mirror again. “I won’t be able to step outside for weeks.”

“Wear the glasses. People might be too distracted by those than your black eye.” She slid off the counter, patting his shoulder. No, she didn’t do it just to see how his muscles felt.

Before she pulled away, Steve’s hand came up and was placed on top of hers. It was large and calloused, yet it was also gentle and warm. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she answered.

“Does this make us friends now?” He asked, taking his hand away, facing her, leaning back onto the counter.

Her eyes scanned over him, thinking to herself how odd the question was. Why did he care if they were friends? “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Harrington.”

But when she laid on his bed that night, too afraid to sleep, her mind couldn’t help but think how her only friend was gone. She wouldn’t tell him, but maybe the idea of calling Steve her friend wasn’t as absurd as she thought.

——

Winter had always been Y/n’s favorite season. The white glow of fluffy snow when she stepped outside or how icicles hung from above. Her house always smelled like gingerbread and pine needles.

It wasn’t until she sat against hot concrete, feet dipped in the pool, watching Steve and Robin argue about diving techniques. It wasn’t until three weeks ago when Steve had asked the two of them to come over to swim and he had answered his front door in only his swim trunks. It wasn’t until this was now a ritual— every day she and Robin would arrive at Steve’s door, wearing their swimsuits under their clothes, holding a pack of beers from the corner store, carrying mischievous smiles. It wasn’t until some days, they would venture inside and put on a movie. Robin would make claim to the loveseat and Y/n had the couch. Steve laid his back on the floor, but on one occasion he plopped on the other side of her, propping his feet into Y/n’s lap.

Although she was sad, and experienced something so traumatic, summer seemed to be irrevocably irreplaceable. The warm sun, melting popsicles that ran on her fingers making them sticky, staying out too late were all the things that made her feel young and in love with summer again.

It sucked that they all were jobless, but none of their parents pushed for them to get a new one after everything that had happened. Also, it was Hawkins. The job market was slim to none.

It was good to just be a kid again.

Y/n laughed as Robin and Steve had gotten into a heated childish argument that resulted in her pushing Steve off the diving board. Y/n felt the drops of water hit her face and legs, but she didn’t care. Steve came back to surface, wiping his stinging eyes, swearing words that even sailors would wince at. He turned towards her, pretending to be angry that she was laughing too hard, swimming towards her. She yelled at him to leave her alone, kicking the water so it would splash him. He grabbed her ankles so she would stop.

She leaned her head forward, peering over the Ray Ban sunglasses she had– borrowed– from Steve. Water beaded on his forehead. His wet hair clung to his face. His nose was pink from the sun, exaggerating the tiny freckles that kissed his face. The sun cast a golden glow on his tan skin. “Help me out.” He stuck his hand out for her to take.

“There’s a ladder over there.” Y/n replied, kicking her free foot slightly against his chest.

Robin had made fun of him earlier today on how hairy it had become.

“If you don’t help me, I’ll pull you in.” He threatened.

Y/n watched as Robin cannonballed off the diving board, causing the pool water to ripple into tiny waves. Steve gave her a toothy grin. She didn’t trust him one bit, but she knew he would keep bothering her if she didn’t give in. She rolled her head back, sighing, taking his hand in hers. As she expected, he used all his strength to pull her arm and leg, placing her over his shoulder. His hand was settled at the back of her thigh, and a little too close to the bottom of her ass. The sunglasses had fallen to the bottom. She didn’t even try to fight him as he threw her into the middle of the pool. By the time she had come back up, he was climbing out before she could get revenge.

“You guys want some pizza rolls?” He asked, picking up his towel off one of the pool chairs, shaking his hair in it.

When he received a yes from both Robin and Y/n he retreated into the house.

Y/n seemed to let out a deep breath, as she watched him. She swam back under the water to retrieve the sunglasses, surprised when she resurfaced to see Robin looking at her smugly. “What?”

“I used to think you were cool.” Robin said, propping her elbows up on the ledge.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/n asked.

Her new-found friend shrugged. “When I first met you, I thought you found him as irritable as I do. But the rest of the summer I’ve had to endure the two of you disgustingly flirting all the time. You’ve fallen under his spell.”

Y/n scoffed. Robin sounded ridiculous right now. “Robin, I am not flirting with Steve Harrington.”

Robin hummed, clearly not believing a word.

“Even if I did flirt with him. It’s not like I’m the one he’s interested in.” Y/n gave her a pointed look. She had noticed Steve and Robin were closer and seemed to come to an understanding of one another. He always had a smile on his face around her and even touched her a lot more than he did Y/n.

Robin nearly choked on her own laughter. “Me? Oh my god. No no no no. Never. Nope. Trust me on this one, Y/n.”

“Why not? You’re pretty and… you get along very well.”

Robin closed her eyes, biting her lip. The look on her face was serious. “I don’t like Steve. If I did like someone, it would be someone like you.”

Y/n raised her eyebrow. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m a lesbian.” Her voice was soft, but Y/n could still hear the raspy words loud and clear.

There was a sudden shift in her perception on the both of them. It wasn’t bad. But the secret whispers if the three of them had gone out made a lot more sense. Y/n smiled at her. Not one of those smiles full of pity. A real genuine friendly and encouraging smile. “Is that why you never argue when Steve puts on Risky Business?”

Robin splashed her and told her to shut up.

The rest of the day, now that they were dried off and back inside, Y/n couldn’t help but think about what Robin had mentioned. It was like she had to analyze every single move that Steve made or said. When they settled in the living room and he settled on the couch like last time, Y/n quickly slid to the floor, nervous that he might put his feet in her lap again. She looked down at her fidgeting fingers when she noticed Robin gave her a strange look.

Really, the entire night she had brushed him off or barely spoke to him.

It had gotten late. Robin decided to spend the night. Steve offered an invitation to Y/n, but she quickly rejected, making a lame excuse about waking up early to do chores. She said her goodbyes, quickly walking out of the house to her car.

“Y/n!”

Steve’s voice called out to her when she made it about halfway. She turned around. “Yeah?”

“Everything good? You seemed… off tonight.” His porch light shone on his face. She could still see the faded bruise underneath his eye.

“I’m just tired is all.” She lied. Although, she didn’t know the entire truth to what she was feeling.

“You coming by tomorrow?” He asked her.

“If I didn’t know any better. You sound a bit obsessed with me, Harrington.”

She was too far away to see the pink that spread across his cheeks. “No,” he sputtered out. “You wish.”

There was a beat.

“I have a date tomorrow. That’s why I asked.”

Robin had been wrong to assume anything more was going on between the two of them. She relaxed her shoulders, feeling at ease that Steve was interested in someone else. “Who on Earth agreed to go on a date with you?” It was a joke. Only a joke. That’s why he scoffed and flipped her off before going back inside without saying goodnight.

Maybe she should go inside and apologize. Maybe she should even tell him she changed her mind and wanted to stay.

She didn’t.

She thought Steve had been lying about his supposed date. But after she had called his house two days later, sobbing that her car wouldn’t start, he had pulled up and in the passenger side was a freshly permed redhead. There seemed to be a scowl on her face as she watched Steve look under the hood of Y/n’s car.

“Date go well yesterday?” Y/n gave her a taunting wave.

Steve shot her a warning look. “Yeah, I guess. I was um… about to take her home when you called.”

“Gonna see her again?” Y/n kicked at the pebbles on the ground.

“I dunno.” He answered, tinkering with something Y/n had no clue what the name was. “She wasn’t too happy that I had to come help a friend who is a girl.”

“Did I interrupt your morning coitus?”

Steve quickly straightened up, hitting his head on the hood. He backed up, clutching the spot, cursing. He sat on the ground in pain.

The girl quickly jumped out of the car and ran up to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Sweetheart! Are you okay? Why are you just standing there and laughing? Go get him an ice pack or something.” The red haired girl glared at Y/n.

“Don’t worry. I think his hair prevents any trauma to the skull.” Y/n snorted.

The girl narrowed her eyes. “Some friend you are.”

“Harrington, tell your girlfriend to relax.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

The red headed girl huffed, pulling away from Steve. “I’m walking home.”

She must have expected Steve to come after her, because she turned around twice to see if he would let her. But he just sat there, watching her walk away.

Without another word about the redhead with no name he finished working on her car.

—

Y/n shrugged off her jacket when she walked into the video store, placing it on the counter. She could hear quiet arguing from the backroom. The voices got louder as they ventured into the store.

Robin was the first to walk out with a stack of VHS tapes. “Thank god you’re back.” She proclaimed when she realized Y/n was there. “Your hair is shorter.”

Y/n couldn’t help but touch the end of her hair, smiling bashfully at her new decision. She looked over at Steve who hadn’t acknowledged her presence. “Hello to you too, Harrington.”

The duo had finally found themselves a job towards the beginning of the school year. Y/n had tried to convince Steve to apply to the community college she attended, but he pushed it aside. He said that he needed to figure himself out first. She wondered what he even did when Robin and her were gone during the day and if it involved “figuring himself out.”

He grumbled, putting his own stack of tapes on the cart. Robin rolled her eyes. “He’s trying to play it cool, but he missed you. The entire week you were gone he kept whining and asking me if it was Saturday yet.” Robin whispered to her so he couldn’t hear.

Y/n had gone on vacation during Thanksgiving break to Florida at her aunt’s beach house. It was only a week, but it felt like a lifetime being away from Hawkins. Being away from them. Robin. Steve.

Y/n watched Steve roll the cart over to a shelf, wordlessly putting tapes into their rightful place.

Robin tilted her head towards him, silently telling Y/n to talk to him. She slowly made her way over to him, leaning her body against the side of his body, propping her hands on his shoulder, and resting her chin on them. He didn’t flinch or budge. In fact, she swore he moved closer into her touch. “Guess what.”

“Hm?” He continued to put the movies in their place.

Y/n moved off of him, retrieving a folded envelope from her pocket, pushing it in front of his face. He backed his head up so he could get a better view. “Is that…”

Y/n nodded.

She bit her lip as he took the letter out of her hand. “Why didn’t you open it?”

“I couldn’t do it myself. You’re the one who stayed up with me every night to make sure I finished my homework and helped me study. If I failed my midterms, I want you to be the one to break it to me.” She motioned her hands, encouraging him to open it.

Steve set a copy of Jaws on the shelf. He dragged his finger slowly against the seal. Y/n bounced on her feet in anticipation, leaning forward as he took the piece of paper out. His eyes scanned the contents of the paper. He shook his head, giving her a disappointing smile. “I can’t believe you managed to pass all of your midterms.”

Y/n’s eyes bulged, quickly snatching the paper out of his hand to see for herself. Sure enough, she had managed to get a passing grade in each course. “We did it!” She proclaimed, wrapping her arms excitedly around his neck.

It took Steve a second before he hugged her back, patting her. “No, you did it yourself, Y/n.”

She couldn’t help it. She gave him a tight squeeze, burying her face in his neck. “Thank you.” She muttered. When she pulled away, he ran hand through his hair, smiling awkwardly. “We should celebrate or something.”

Steve leaned his elbow on the shelf, but it hit the tape he had just set down, causing it to flip. Luckily he caught it as it tumbled in the air. “Yeah. How about pizza and a movie at my place?” He suggested as he set the tape carefully back on the shelf.

“As long as I get to pick the movie.”

“Anything for you. Tomorrow at nine sounds okay?”

“Good with me.”

“Great. It’s a date.” Steve picked up Jaws and pushed it between the row of movies. He then rolled the cart to a new shelf, leaving Y/n frozen in place. He didn’t seem to notice the choice of words he had used. He’s used it before. But somehow his tone of voice felt different.

Shaking her head, she turned around and walked over to her who was leaning over the counter. Y/n picked up her jacket. Robin gave her a smug look. “What?”

“A date, huh?” Robin had lowered her voice.

Y/n looked at the floor. “You know it’s not like that.” Normally, these “dates” included Robin. Yet, she acted like she knew something Y/n didn’t.

“Do you want it to be like that?” Y/n was used to Robin questioning her feelings for Steve.

Y/n could admit that the two of them have gotten closer but there was nothing more. When he touched her it was nothing more than a friendly squeeze. When they spoke it was always friendly banter. He never had any hidden reasoning behind it.

“He’s just Steve to me.” Y/n replied.

Robin was not convinced.

The next day, Y/n arrived at Steve’s house. When she walked in the door it felt weird and quiet. “Where’s Robin?”

He plopped on the loveseat that Robin would normally take over. He was wearing his glasses and his hair was messy. He looked like he had just woken up from a nap. “Not here.”

“Obviously. Why didn’t you invite her?” Y/n went over to the television, popping the movie she had brought inside the player.

“I did invite her. She said she couldn’t make it.” Steve threw the remote towards her.

Y/n let a deep breath out. Robin was a conniving sly mischievous sneaky bastard. Y/n wondered if she should turn around and tell Steve that their mutual friend was trying to parent trap them. She didn’t though.

Steve and her had hung out plenty of times by themselves and nothing happened. This was no different.

Although, she did have a difficult time paying attention to the movie, glancing over periodically as he had his knee in the air and hand under his head, parading his bicep. It would be so easy to go over and sit between his legs and lay down on his stomach. Her thoughts were distracted when his doorbell rang. She paused the movie to allow him to get up and answer the door, walking back into the living room with a box of pizza. He set it on the coffee table in front of the couch, grabbing a slice, and took a seat on the other side.

Y/n had to keep repeating to herself he only sat there because it was easier to share the pizza that way.

She must have been staring because he looked over at her, making a face. “You gonna start the movie back?”

She had a hard time focusing, and Steve looked nothing but bored out of his mind and they still had about thirty minutes left of the movie. He must have sensed it. “Guess who came into the store this week?” He said, eyes still focused on the screen, taking another bite of his third pizza slice.

“Who?” She asked him.

“Tommy. Haven’t seen him since graduation.” Steve answered. There was a glimpse of sadness in his eyes. Tommy used to be one of his best friends. It shocked her and Heather at the beginning of senior year when they barely acknowledged each other’s existence. “Him and Carol split up. Crazy right? He said she went off to the University of Texas.”

“I never really spoke to her before except in eighth grade.” Y/n wiped her hands clean on a napkin, bringing her knees into her chest.

“I remember you two belted out Call Me at her birthday party.” Steve laughed. His attention was finally on you.

She laughed at the memory of her and Carol Perkins standing on top of Carol’s mother’s expensive new dining table, singing horribly out of tune to Blondie. “Oh my god. I completely forgot about that! How did you even remember?”

“I remember a lot of things about that night.” Steve’s face had changed into something she couldn’t quite place her finger on, but it disappeared as quick as it came. He smirked, nudging his foot on her leg. “Even the kiss.”

“I didn’t think you would remember that happening.” She couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that they were talking about it almost six years later.

“Why would I forget my first kiss?” Steve chuckled.

The comment was almost unbelievable. Surely he was lying. What about the rumor that he kissed Betty Wyatt’s cousin in seventh grade? “I try to forget it.” She teased him, hoping it would distract from the shy look she was giving. “You were a bad kisser.”

Steve scoffed, but the smile stayed. He leaned over and hit her knee. “I was not that bad.”

She nodded her head violently. “Yes, you were. It felt like you were trying to suck a straw.”

“I’m sorry I was not born with natural kissing abilities like you. I bet you only knew what to do because you practiced on a poster of Donny Osmond.” He yelped when she kicked her foot against his.

“That is just not true. It was Kevin Bacon.”

“Yeah, well unlike you, I was not a weirdo.” She tried to kick him again, but grabbed both of her calves, pulling her towards him. “Had to practice the old-fashioned way. No other girls have complained so far. Must be doing something right.”

“Then why haven’t any of your relationships lasted?” She raised an eyebrow. She opened her mouth, gasping in revelation. “Maybe it’s not your commitment issues but your terrible lip-action.” She poked his forehead.

Before, when they hadn’t been friends yet, that comment would have pissed him off. However, instead, he rolled his eyes, jabbing her side so she would yelp in laughter. “A lot has changed since eighth grade, Y/n. My kissing skills are phenomenal.”

“Then show me.”

Shit.

She didn’t mean to say that out loud. She didn’t even mean to let the thought cross her mind. By the look on his face, eyes wide, lips parted as if he was unsure what to say, he was just as taken aback as she was. But she couldn’t help it.The glow of the television screen gleamed on his glasses. The light danced on his face, defining his jaw line. He didn’t look like the eighth grade boy she fancied. Nor did he look like the high school boy she despised. Now, he looked pretty and grown up.

She gulped at his lack of response. “I… I was kidding, Harrington. Don’t cream your pants.” She playfully shoved his chest, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“Oh.” He said.

“Even if I wasn’t kidding. It would be no different than in eighth grade. It wouldn’t mean anything. It would be just for fun.” She should probably just shut up now before he kicked her out of his house for crossing the line.

“Okay.” He shrugged.

Her eyes met his again. Slanted and hooded. Not phased at all that he was agreeing on kissing his friend. She crossed her legs and he mirrored her. Their knees touched.

There was no slow build up or lingering looks. Steve quickly leaned in, giving her a chaste kiss.

When he pulled back she frowned. “Really?”

“What?” He shrugged. He was holding back and she didn’t understand why.

“That was barely a kiss.” She crossed her arms.

He took a deep breath and removed his glasses, setting them down on the coffee table. He turned back towards her, running his tongue along his bottom lip while staring at hers. He placed his hand on the side of her face, thumb brushing over his cheek. This time, he leaned in slowly, until their lips met once again.

Her hands laid stupidly by her side as their lips melted against one another. She was afraid to touch him. She was afraid if she did touch him this friendly kiss would become more.

She wasn’t sure when his hand came to the back of her neck, pulling her deeper. She was the one who invited his tongue in, parting her lips, allowing it to glide over the roof of her mouth before dipping it against her own.

Maybe it was the guttural moan that came out of him that she found herself climbing into his lap, hands finally touching him. She broke away. He tried to chase her lips, whimpering. “I should probably go.”

Steve looked over at the television. “The movie isn’t over.” The movie had been long forgotten.

“I have class tomorrow.” She argued.

Steve gripped her sides. “Please stay. At least until the movie is over.”

Her lips found his again. More greedy and intense than the last time. She couldn’t help but grab a fistful of his hair, tugging it. That same moan from earlier came back. He came up for a breath of air like he had been drowning for hours. Y/n herself felt like she was in a whirlpool. Her head spinning, stomach flipping.

Their noses bumped into one another as he angled his head. His lips moved to her jaw then to her neck. Licking and nipping the soft skin. “Harrington.” She sighed.

“Hm?”

“You know this isn’t going to be a thing, right?” He looked up, lips pink and swollen. His eyes clouded with desire. “I don’t like you or anything.”

“Okay.” He tried to lean back in, but she stopped him. He rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to say? We both agreed it’s only for fun.”

A part of her wished she hadn't said anything. A part of her wanted him to argue and tell her it wasn’t just fun for him and he liked her.

She was ready to get off his lap again and run out of his house. The air was suffocating. But then he shifted, and she felt the hardness under the soft cotton of his sweatpants, brushing lightly against the back of her thigh. She hitched her breath.

His fingers pushed the hem of her shirt, brushing her bare stomach. “You know this only confirms that you don’t wait until the first date.”

“Do you believe the only thing I think about is sex?” He quizzed her. There was the playful smirk on his face that he always gave her when he wanted her to pick on him.

“Actually, yes. Probably the longest committed relationship you’ve had.” The anxious feeling gnawing on her brain loosened. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I can also feel your dick.”

He flushed.

“Look at you getting all flustered. You’re too pretty for your own good, Harrington.” She smiled smugly when he grew redder at the compliment.

She squeezed his warm pink freckled cheeks, making his lips pucker out. “Do the other girls get you worked up like me?”

He shook his head. He didn’t need to though. She knew the girls he brought home didn’t speak to him in such a way.

That was one thing about her that Steve found most enthralling. She was never different around him. Even when he makes a comment that flustered her, she could come back with full force. It was like they were on opposite ends of one of those Newton’s cradles.

“I’m not expecting to have sex.” He assured her.

“I know.” She was ready for him to shut up. She bucked her hip.

“Shit.” Steve groaned from the pressure in his pants. His palms ran up and down her bare sides, thumbing the fabric of her bra underneath. There was a shaky breath he let out when she grinded against him. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you expecting to have sex?”

She dipped down, kissing his sweet lips. “I’m just having fun before the movie is over.”

“You’re avoiding the question.” His hands were still now, resting on her ribs.

She threw her head back, agitated. “I dunno! I’ve never even had sex before. I don’t know what I want to happen.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, quickly removing his hands from under her. “But you acted like you’ve done this before.”It came out as a question.

“Confidence gets you a long way.” She mumbled. “Now you’re treating me like I’m going to break if you touch me.”

“No. No! That’s not… I don’t want you to feel like you are making a mistake.” Steve’s face softened with concern.

“We’re already making a mistake. What’s one more? Show me what I’ve been missing all these years.”

This wasn’t what she had imagined her first time. It had always been someone she cared about deeply. There was a trail of rose petals and satin sheets. Her lips would taste of the red wine she had just drank with maybe a hint of strawberries. She would wear a well thought out lingerie set which would slowly be taken off her and her body would be ravished, idolized, relished. She had always thought those were the things that would make her first time perfect.

Never did she imagine it would be Steve Harrington, laying her on his couch after he had just taken her shirt off, her bra not long after. Her breasts in his mouth, sticky and wet as he lapped his tongue over her nipples.

More clothes seemed to disappear between them. The glow of the television melted into his skin. She brushed her fingers over the freckles on his ribs. It was something she wanted to do months ago when they were swimming in his pool.

His hand slipped between her thighs, sliding up. She was only wearing underwear now, and embarrassingly enough, it wasn’t anything cute or fancy. “Who’s the worked up one now?” He commented as he slipped his hand inside her underwear, feeling the wetness.

“Can’t help it. You’re so pretty, Harrington.” She mewled. She was happy to discover the compliment made him red-faced and clumsy. She was going to use that to her advantage.

“Can I touch you?” He asked.

“You are.”

“Not what I meant.”

His fingers felt like electricity. Gliding, massaging against her sweet area. His lips were on hers again, sucking, nibbling her bottom lip. He was hungry for more.

When he removed her underwear and kissed her pelvis, it began to hit her that she was naked and about to sleep with Steve Harrington. Her– unlikely– friend Steve Harrington. “Steve.” She let out a wanton moan as his tongue made contact with her swollen clit.

He lifted her legs onto his shoulders, hands wrapped over her thighs, gripping the insides. He pushed his face deeper, moaning against her.

“You look so pretty between my legs.” She chuckled when he looked up at her, eyes hazy, drunk on her. He flicked his tongue faster, and she tried to clench her legs together but he spread them back apart.

He came up for a moment, a string of salvia between his mouth and her. “You okay?”

“Really? You’re checking on me now?” She complained, wiggling for him to continue.

There was a moment.

He looked at her intensely, watching her chest rise and fall. He took note of how her eyes glimmered. How beautiful she looked on the couch, the cushions enveloping around her bare body. Before his thoughts could stray further from just friends territory, he returned his mouth on her, taking one of his hands, he moved his hand off her thigh. “Eyes on me.”

He groaned when she parted her lips, a soft gasp escaping as he slowly slipped his middle finger inside of her. He pumped it in and out. Hot sticky sounds mixed with soft moans and grunts. “Jesus…”

“Feel okay?”

She nodded.

He slipped a second finger in.

Dear god, she felt she was floating in the air as his tongue lapped and circled her clit, sucking, and occasionally his teeth grazing. It all felt surreal like if she closed her eyes and opened them back up he wouldn’t be there. Maybe that’s why she tangled her fingers into his dark mop of hair, ensuring he was real and wouldn’t disappear. Maybe she also gripped his hair after he curled his fingers, hitting a sensitive spot. Maybe she held on tighter because that bubbling feeling at the base of her stomach appeared, her eyes watering, and her breath irregular, her walls tightened around his fingers, her high pouring all over them.

He kissed her thigh, letting her catch her breath and revel in the orgasm, fingers still inside of her. She stared at white the ceiling above her, trying to refocus her eyes. Steve took his fingers out, and crawled out from underneath her. His fingers were slick and wet. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, taking his tongue, licking them, putting them in his mouth, and taking them out with a pop.

He’s hovered above her now, and she’s happy. It had been too long since they had kissed. It felt like ages ago she had only asked him to kiss her as a challenge, to prove that he wasn’t the goofy freckled boy anymore.

He wanted to kiss her, she could tell by the way he leaned in. However, when she saw his wet depraved red lips, she found herself cupping his jaw, rubbing her thumb over them, brushing it against his tongue. His eyes fluttered shut for a second and she could feel him twitch against her. “Fuck.” He whispered. “Fuck… you. I need… you so bad.” When he opened his eyes, she noted the plea that shone in them. She could imagine he would hate her if she didn’t let him by the wrecked expression on his face. “I need to hear it from you.”

“Okay.” She tried to kiss him but he moved his head back.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He rested his tongue on his bottom lip, that smug look appearing, knowing it would piss her off.

“Just fuck me already, Harrington.” She threw her head back on the couch, exasperated.

It was a quick swift movement, him removing his underwear, his dick slapping his stomach.

She tried not to react. She had always assumed his size would not be disappointing. Sometimes he wore too tight of jeans and sometimes she found herself staring at the bulge it would make.

He took himself by the hand, sliding it against her folds, teasing her. He leaned in one last time. “It’s all yours. I just need you to say the words.”

She let out a laugh of disbelief, looking away from his intense gaze. “I need you.” She whispered.

“I couldn’t hear you.” Steve leaned his ear closer.

“You’re blind, Harrington. Not hard of hearing. I’m not saying it again.”

“Not the time to be stubborn, Y/n.” He tsked, caressing her breast, pinching her hardened nipple.

“I need you, Steve. Please.” She hated begging, but the pathetic look on his face when she said please, made her stomach swell.

He slowly inserted himself into her, sinking slowly. He made sure she was okay before he started to move his hips, slow careful thrusts, in and out of her.

She looked over at the television screen and almost laughed. The credits were rolling.

Steve grabbed her jaw, making her turn her face back towards him. “Look at me.” He bucked his hip, his entire length filling her. He did it again, and again. Y/n gasped, clenching her thighs against his waist. “Trust me, it will feel better to keep them wide.” He gently pushed them apart for her, continuing a steady rhythm. Marveling the fact his entirety was completely sheathed inside of her.

She could barely stand it, her shaky hands grabbed his arms, proving to be as strong and muscular as they looked. Her nails dug into his soft tan flesh when he rolled his hips.

“Feel good?” Steve asked.

“It’s alright.” Her mouth was wide, grinning. She knew that he knew she was lying. It was amazing, but it felt even more fun to tease him, watching his eyebrows crease when he was annoyed, trying to prove to her he was beyond just “alright.”

“It would feel even better if I wasn’t doing all the work here, sweetheart.” He used the nickname in a condescending tone, but it didn’t stop her stomach from flipping, and a breath hitching in her throat. He grabbed the side of her ass, pulling it up, allowing the tip of him to brush over her cervix. “Move your hips with me.”

She did as she was told, her pelvis hitting his, colliding together in a sound of sticky slaps. “Fuck. Yes.” He leaned down and gave a sloppy kiss. She took his bottom lip between her teeth. He couldn’t hide the loud moan. He gave her ass another squeeze. “Try to keep in rhythm with me, baby.”

His hooded eyes were half-closed, hypnotized and intoxicated. “You’re so gorgeous.” He mumbled, flushing his chest against hers, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, placing tender kisses. “So beautiful.”

He sounded like she had broken him.

“How do I feel?” He asked again.

Her arms snaked around him, fingers brushing over his shoulder blades. “I told you already.”

“That answer wasn’t good enough.” He pulled his hips back, nearly completely out of her, before slamming back down. Her thighs came back around him, and he pushed them apart, giving unrelentless thrusts, groaning and grunting, her walls clenching around him, her body never wanting to let go of him.

Everytime he sank back inside of her, hitting the right spot, short whiny breaths of air escaped her.

“I like the sounds you make.” She admitted.

Although she was beneath him, she still felt some sort of power, knowing her words could determine his next move or destroy him. Like now, his eyes were closed, lips parted, cursing under his breath.

“I need to hear you again.”

“Hear what?” She asked in a sharp breath of air.

“Since you won’t say how good I make you feel. I want to hear it.” He quickly took himself out of her, and the sudden lack of warmth almost made her cry. He sat so his backside was against the back of the couch. He pulled her hand, motioning for her to come over, guiding her to straddle him.

She placed her forehead on his as he lifted her up and led her back onto him, swearing as she sank down. She placed her hands on his neck, his on her back, the two of them moaning and kissing as she rocked back and forth.

“That’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He murmured.

She shivered as his hand trailed down to her hips, grabbing the flesh. He began to harmonize with her rhythm. Her mouth found his neck, sucking a rosy bloom. She pushed herself harder against him, feeling his base brush her clit. “Y/n.” His voice was weak, pleading.

She pecked his lips. “It feels so good.” She groaned in satisfaction. “You make me feel so good.”

His composure faltered, her words sending him over the edge. His hips continued to buck up, but each one a little faster and a little harder, his cock unrelentlessly penetrating inside of her, hitting her G-spot.

“Steve.” She had said under her breath.

“Steve.” She moaned a little louder so he could hear her.

It was almost too overwhelming. “Steve.” She felt her climax wash over her, body falling forward, face in his neck. He continued to fuck her through it, making her cry from the intensity of pleasure pulsating throughout her body. It wasn’t long after her that he choked a groan, nails digging into her hips, one last deep thrust, releasing his own orgasm in her.

They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Her face in his neck, panting, limbs numb. He was staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, running his hand up and down her back.

“That was fun.” He spoke out loud, not particularly to her, but to fill the silence.

“Yeah.” Her voice was shaky. She brought up her face, looking him in the eyes. She leaned in for another kiss, but that seemed too romantic. It was too much for just two friends that only had sex for fun and not because they liked each other. Instead of kissing his soft glossy lips, she kissed him on his cheek. Ignoring the feeling that she wanted to.

—-

Y/n couldn’t believe in only a few hours marked 365 days that Earth had gone around the sun.

It had been 180 days since Starcourt and Heather’s death. It had been 30 days since she had sex with Steve for the first time.

Nothing had changed. There was still bantering between them. They still hung out. Steve had even gone on a few dates after, but Y/n could admit something was different. Stolen looks, lingering touches, and maybe the fact they had sex three times after that.

It had been a week after the first time Steve showed up at her doorstep, a desperate look in his eyes. It didn’t take long for them to sneak up to her bedroom, his hand over her mouth, trying not to catch her parent’s attention.

The next was when he had gone on a date with Beth Newman. Apparently, it ended terribly, calling Y/n to come over. He kept telling her he didn’t ask her to come over for just sex, but a little part of her knew that was a lie.

But the last time felt different than any of the other times. There was no failed date, no desperation.

It was Christmas Day and Y/n had invited him over to celebrate with him after he had mentioned his parents were going to Las Vegas. Robin was in Indianapolis having Christmas with her grandparents. Steve was going to be all alone on Christmas and it bothered Y/n. Even though he showed up at her front door she had been shocked he showed up, wearing one of the ugliest brown sweaters she had ever seen.

They spent the afternoon eating and talking with her family. They even watched A Charlie Brown Christmas. It was tradition for the family to bake banana bread the night before and after their own festivities would go around the neighborhood to pass them out. However, Y/n and Steve stayed behind.

The house smelled of honey glazed ham and mashed potatoes that lingered from dinner. Y/n walked into the living room with two mugs of peppermint hot chocolate, warm enough for marshmallows to melt but cool enough to drink. Steve was staring at the Christmas tree decorated in lights and garland. He gave her a sweet smile, taking the mug from her. “I don’t remember the last time our family decorated the Christmas tree together. Usually, I’d come home to find it already up.”

She could tell he wasn’t telling her this to make her feel bad for him.

“I have a present for you.” He told her, setting his mug down, walking over to the coat closet her mother had told him to put his jacket in. He came back, holding a poorly wrapped golden box.

Y/n had sat down in front of the electrical fireplace, criss crossed, watching him walk to her. “I didn’t get you anything.”

He smiled, sitting next to her. “It’s okay.” He handed her the present, leaning back on his hands, arm brushing hers, watching her run her fingers over the wrapping.

“It’s a good thing you don’t work at a gift store. Your wrapping skills are atrocious.” She nudged him.

“Henderson wouldn’t help me.” He had grumbled, looking away so she couldn’t see his flushed cheeks.

She smirked, ripping the paper off, revealing a square black velvet box. She glanced over at him. He was chewing on his bottom lip, hitting the top of his feet together, and not looking at her. She opened the box, letting out a quiet gasp.

Inside was a dainty silver bracelet. There was nothing entirely special or spectacular about it, but the way the white lights from the tree shined on it and the fact it was from Steve, everything made it more special. “It’s beautiful, Steve.”

“Yeah?” He looked at her, noticing the gleam in her eyes.

She nodded, placing a quick kiss on his lips, taking it out of the box. “Will you help me put it on?”

Steve, still shocked from the kiss, coughed. He sat up and silently helped her clasp the bracelet on her wrist, looking up at her when he was done, hand still on hers. She called it beautiful again, only to herself, but he had heard it. “For a beautiful girl.”

She snorted, but couldn’t help but feel nervous. She still wasn’t used to the blatant flirting or compliments he gave her. “How long were we holding in that cheesy comment?”

His thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse. He took the leap and kissed her softly. So soft it felt like he wasn’t kissing her at all. She placed her hand on his face, pulling him in, deepening the kiss. There was no hesitation when she asked if he wanted to go to her room, leaving behind the now room temperature hot chocolate.

“Surprised you didn’t make fun of my sweater.” He had told her, smiling, between their heated kisses on her bed.

She smiled back, showing all her teeth, tugging the hem of said sweater, helping him tug it off. “It’s Christmas. Decided to be nice.”

All the touches and kisses he gave her that night were softer, longer, and slower than before. Like he was savoring everything about her. Marveling her in nothing but the silver bracelet on her wrist.

And now she had to sit in an uncomfortable dress at his parent’s New Year’s party, watching him talk to one of his dad’s co-worker’s daughters. She was clean, gorgeous and straight-laced. Her blonde hair was straight and shiny. Y/n couldn’t help but glare at the way she laughed when Steve told a joke, touching his elbow lightly.

They hadn’t talked about Christmas or acknowledged it. Not even two days ago when they had gotten high in her car and made out.

“These sandwiches are probably the best thing ever.” Robin commented, mouth full of the finger turkey sandwiches. “Steve’s parents might suck but they know how to throw a hell of a party.”

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Y/n asked, rolling her eyes when the girl brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Who?” Robin followed her gaze, trying not to smirk. “Not sure. She’s kind of hot.”

Y/n shot her a dirty look.

Robin laughed. “Not my fault you have a crush on him.”

“I do not!” Y/n’s voice raised and was higher than normal. A few bystanders gave the pair an odd look before returning back to their conversations. Y/n coughed, taking a sip of the sparkling cider in her hand. Steve had promised later he would sneak them some booze, but he was too busy flirting and the night was coming to a close.

“Hm.” Robin stuffed another sandwich in her mouth. “Don’t worry, if she sees that hickey he’s been trying to cover all evening, she’ll lose interest.”

Y/n choked, eyes wide, receiving a questioning look from her friend. “Hickey?”

Robin chuckled. “Oh yeah. He came to work yesterday and I pointed it out immediately. It’s kind of hard to miss. I had to come over an hour early to press some powder on it. Do you know if he has a secret girl?”

“Why would I know? You’re his best friend.” Y/n tried her best to play it off.

Robin shrugged. “You’re the one who hung out with him the night before.”

“I hope you’re not implying what I think you are.” Y/n nervously took another drink, looking away from her. She could easily tell when someone was lying by just the scrunch of a nose.

“I’m not implying anything.” She answered.

There was a beat.

“I’m just one-hundred percent sure I saw him touch your butt the other day when you came into the store.”

It wasn’t that Y/n was hiding the fact that she and Steve had hooked up… multiple times. But she assumed since Steve had never told Robin about them, that it was a silent agreement they wouldn’t tell anyone at all. Y/n gulped. “He did not.”

“Mm, yes he did.”

“He probably just grazed it when walking by, Robin.”

“Y/n, that was not just a graze. He went like this.” She held up her hand, squeezing the air. “His hand was full of your ass.”

“That’s so gross. Never do that again.” Y/n elbowed her friend, laughing.

Another moment of silence.

“We’re not together or anything. We’re just… having fun.” She twisted the silver bracelet around her wrist.

Robin hummed again, not pushing any further.

Y/n managed to slip outside, letting the freezing air sting her cheeks. There was only about ten minutes left of 1985. She took a seat on the deck, slipping off her shoes, and putting her feet in the heated pool water. Leaning over slightly, she could see her reflection in the water. A whole year went by and she looked older, taller, bigger. The bags under her eyes told her she was tired a lot more.

It was funny to think just months ago she was still in high school and now she was grown up. She heard the door open, chatter from the inside drifted out before being muffled again when it was closed. She could hear quiet giggling. Turning her head, she saw Steve and the girl from earlier walk out, his hand on the small of her back. They couldn’t see her hidden behind a pool chair.

Their conversation was quiet, but she could hear a lighter being lit, the smell of cigarettes followed after.

“You have anyone to kiss at midnight?” The girl asked him in a sweet sultry tone.

She could feel her throat close up. There was no escape. If she stood up and walked away, they would see her. Maybe if she crawled on the ground she could go around the house back to the front.

“I thought I did.” He answered.

Y/n’s escape plan was paused, her ears perked up.

“Thought? You have a girl here with you?”

Y/n heard the long sigh that came out of him, a trail of smoke lifted into the cold air. “She’s just a friend.”

Oh.

Y/n heard enough that she wanted to. She grabbed her shoes, picked her feet out of the water, shivering as they hit the freezing slab of concrete. When she stood up, the girl and Steve looked at her.

The girl’s face was pinched into an annoyed expression, clutching Steve’s jacket over her shoulders.

Steve’s eyes were wide, mouth ajar, like a kid who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Don’t mind me!” Y/n faked a sweet smile, but she knew Steve could recognize the sarcasm by the way he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was looking for someone.”

The girl’s face relaxed. “Who were you looking for?”

She sounded like she had done this before. Like she knew everyone that was at the party. Like she knew Steve.

Y/n walked closer to the door, looking Steve up and down, giving him a chance to say anything.

He didn’t.

“No one important. Just a friend.” Y/n locked eyes with Steve. He gave her a look, lips parted like he wanted to argue with her. Instead of giving him a chance, she walked back inside to the party.

She looked around the living room to find Robin. She had plans on leaving but she didn’t want to without her friend not knowing. It came to no surprise to find her standing to the side, gawking at a pretty brunette, who also seemed to be looking at her too. Y/n sighed, pushing her pride behind, realizing her friend needed her.

“You know, you could just go over and talk to her.” Y/n told her, slipping back on her shoes now that her feet were dry.

She scoffed. “Have you met me?” Her voice was raspy and warm.

Suddenly, there was a clinking of glass, everyone’s attention turned to Mr. Harrington standing in the middle of the living room, Mrs. Harrington wrapped around his arm. Steve stood behind them, looking at his feet. His hair was messy and he had put his jacket back on. “Thank you all for coming tonight. My family and I are grateful for everyone in this room. The clock here says we have two minutes left of 85’ so I suggest you tie your loose ends up quickly.” He winked, making everyone laugh. He raised his glass, everyone followed suit.

Y/n quickly turned to Robin again. “There’s nothing you can lose if you go talk to her now.”

Robin bit her lip, looking at the girl across the room. “Okay. Fine, I’ll go.” She straightened the blazer she was wearing and asked Y/n if she looked okay before walking timidly over to the stranger.

She couldn’t but smile as the pair immediately dived into conversation, Robin turned around and gave her a smile.

Someone in the room shouted that there were twenty seconds left before midnight. Y/n covered her mouth, pushing down the laugh when the brunette took Robin’s pinky, pulling her upstairs. However, she couldn’t help but feel envious that her shy friend, who was scared of being an outcast if the town knew the real her, had snuck off to lock lips with a gorgeous girl.

“Ten!”

Y/n looked at the couples finding one another to celebrate the new year.

“Nine!”

Her eyes caught Steve still standing in the living room.

“Eight!”

He ran a hand through his stupid messy brown hair.

“Seven!”

He craned his neck to look around.

“Six!”

He walked towards her, still looking in every direction except hers.

“Five!”

His stupid brown eyes finally found hers.

“Four!”

He just stood there, staring at her as if he was too scared to approach her. She didn’t want to go to him. She didn’t want to be the first to move.

“Three!”

He gave her a small smile, putting his hand up, waving.

“Two!”

Her body betrayed her, turning towards him, smiling back, waving back, a silent invitation.

“One!”

She saw the step he took. She knew he was coming to her.

“Happy New Year!”

The blonde girl from earlier had gotten to him faster, grabbing him by the collar, snaking her arm around his neck to pull him into a kiss.

That kiss was supposed to be for Y/n.

Y/n knew it was.

But it still hurt and gnawed at her brain that she would never be good enough for Steve. He might think she was pretty enough to fuck, but never enough to be with her for real.

—-

The floor of Robin’s bedroom floor had never felt so fuzzy before. Y/n twisted the carpet strands between her fingers, feeling the strands between the pads of her digits. She let out a long drawn out sigh, giggling when Robin took that as a sign to hand over the blunt, hanging her arm off the edge of the bed for Y/n to take.

Y/n took a long deep inhale, filling her lungs before puffing the smoke out. She turned her head slightly to the dark haired boy next to her. He had one hand behind his head and the other laying on his stomach. His lips were parted, eyes dilated, focused on the ceiling. She nudged him with her elbow, but he didn’t look at her when he took the blunt out of her hand.

This is how it's been the past month. He only would hang out with her if Robin was around. He would barely look at her and only talked to her when it was absolutely necessary. There was no flirting. No lingered touches.

She had to watch his hair get longer, muscles get bigger, boyish features disappear. It felt like their friendship had taken three steps back and they no longer knew one another. They were just there because Robin was there. They were strangers.

“Guys, are you even listening to me?” Robin sat up, looking down at them.

Steve sat up too, reaching over Y/n to hand Robin the blunt back. “We don’t need to listen to know you’re back on another tangent about Vickie. How cute her freckles are and how red her hair is.”

Robin groaned, annoyed that he was being a jerk.

“She could call your cousin and play tonsil hockey with her instead.” Y/n snorted. When Robin told Steve about who she met at New Year’s, he broke the news she had made out with his cousin, Bethany. Now, it was an inside joke between them, Steve was indisposed.

He gave her an unimpressed look, definitely not amused by the joke. “I don’t know why it’s a big deal to talk to Vickie if you were brave enough talking to a stranger you had never met.”

This conversation had happened before. Steve would ask that question each time, and each time Robin would answer the same thing.

It was different flirting with a stranger she had never met, because if she had been rejected, it was fine no one would ever know, but if it had happened to a Hawkin’s local there would be consequences she wasn’t ready to go through.

“Even if Vickie doesn’t like girls, I’m sure someone else in Hawkins does.” He tried to reassure her.

Y/n sat up, looking at Robin, leaning in, pretending like it was a secret. “Or you could go down the list of his family. Maybe his mom could be next.”

The two girls burst out in laughter.

Steve looked between the two of them. “I gotta piss.” He grumbled, standing up to walk out of her room to the bathroom.

Y/n couldn’t help but watch him, biting her lip.

“Jesus. You two are exhausting.” Robin proclaimed. “I'd rather be drugged by Russains again than watch you two act like children who can’t talk about their feelings.”

“There are no feelings. Besides, he's the one ignoring me.” She crossed her arms and grumbled.

The girl on the bed rolled her eyes, moving her recently cut hair behind her ear. “This is why friends shouldn’t sleep with one another.”

“Feeling left out? Send Steve home and I can fix that.” Y/n joked.

Robin’s face grew bright red, laughing louder than necessary.

Steve walked back in, making the girls cackle even harder, tears in their eyes, clutching their thighs because they were on the verge of peeing themselves. Steve leaned on the door frame, the corner of his mouth upturned, even though he had no clue what the uproar was about. He shook his head, sitting back in his spot.

For a second, Y/n had forgotten they weren’t talking to one another. She laid her head on his shoulder, letting the last remaining giggles out. She expected him to push her off, but she swore he shifted closer, his thumb secretly rubbing the bottom of her back.

The sun was setting, and their high was gone. Y/n announced she should head home before it got dark. “Car in the shop still?” Robin asked her.

“Yeah, I thought it would be fixed by now, but supposedly the alternator is out. Mom has had to take me to school this week.” Y/n sighed, grabbing her bag and slipping on her shoes by the bedroom door.

“Your car broke down again?” Steve looked concerned, eyebrows knitted together, and his head tilted to the side.

Y/n shared an awkward look with Robin. “Yeah, last Friday when I was leaving school.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” His hands were on his hips now, like a scolding father.

She furrowed her brows. “You were at work and I was forty-five minutes away. Eric helped me. He knew a few things about cars.”

“Who’s Eric?” He asked her.

“Oh, it’s one of her classmates who is totally into her.” Robin interjected.

Y/n shot her a look. “Anyway, I’ll see you guys later.” She could hear hushed whispers as she walked out of Robin’s bedroom. There was a defeated sigh followed by rushed footsteps.

“Y/n, wait.” She was almost to the front door when Steve had caught up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She turned, raising an eyebrow. They stood there for a moment. “Let me drive you home.”

She only agreed because it was cold outside. Not because it would be the first time in weeks she would be alone with Steve.

The radio was on, windows were rolled down, Steve had a cigarette in his hand hanging out the window. A bad habit he had picked up again recently. Robin had scolded him the other day at work for stepping out to take a smoke break.

The breeze ruffled his hair that was overdue for a trim. “So, this Eric guy. Is he cute?”

“Why? You want his number? I could give it to you.” Y/n snorted at her own joke.

“You have his number?” He flicked the cigarette out the window. Y/n looked back to watch the still lit bud bounce in the middle of the road.

She leaned over to turn down the radio. “Yeah. He gave it to me Friday. Told me to call him if I needed a ride or anything.” They both knew what anything meant.

Steve made a noise from the back of his throat in response, tapping his steering wheel, deep in thought about something. “You gonna call him?”

Y/n had boys interested in her during her friendship with Steve. Never did he ask about it. Then again, she never asked about his interests. A little irritated, she bit the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. It was unbelievable. “Yeah, maybe I will. Unless you think I shouldn’t.” This was his chance. She opened the door for them to finally, in Robin’s words, talk about their big kid feelings.

“You can do whatever you want, Y/n. I don’t own you.” He brushed his nose.

“Right. Just friends, right?” Y/n’s jaw ticked.

“Of course we’re friends.” He noticed the hurt look on her face, realizing what she was talking about. “I mean… we’re better off as friends.”

“Yeah we are.” She put on a fake smile for him. “Besides, I can’t be with someone I don’t take seriously.”

His knuckles turned white from clutching the steering wheel. He pulled into the driveway, her door was already open before he had even put the car in park. “Y/n!” He yelled as she started to storm off inside. She took a deep breath in, turning around, leaning over to look back inside the car, clearly frustrated.

He looked like he wanted to say something important, swallowing hard. “I think I left my jacket here from Christmas. If you find it, could you return it?”

The laugh she let out was breathy and full of disbelief. “Yeah, Harrington, I will. Do you think you could return my virginity?” Her face fell and lips were pursed, glaring at him.

His jaw went slack, looking away from her glowered look. Without another word, he shifted into reverse, pulling out of her driveway. It took everything in her power not to run after his BMW. Instead she stood there in the February cold, hugging herself, tears streaming down her face.

She walked up the steps of her home and sat on her porch swing, wishing Heather was there next to her. She would probably make a joke like, “I was right. You never really hated Steve Harrington.”

Because it was true, she didn’t hate him.

Being around him, getting to know him, made her feel like those chilly evenings when the leaves began to turn back to their color. He even reminded her of summer, sunkissed, and days in the pool. Steve reminded her of all the seasons and her favorite things about them.

She twisted the silver bracelet around on her wrist.

She would probably never say it out loud, but she was pretty sure she had fallen in love with him.

She was in love with Steve Harrington.

—-

The Florida sun felt unbearable. Hot and sticky. Sweat. So much sweat. Y/n slid open the doors of the family beach house, slipping inside into the air condition. She clutched a towel over her body, dripping with pool water, her footprints on the wood flooring. Her mother and aunt smiled at her from the kitchen table, playing canasta with some other family members.

She grabbed a muffin leftover from breakfast, sitting down on a stool at the bar. Her two cousins, Penny and Mary walked in. They were twins and a year younger than Y/n, and sometimes they acted like they were the ones in charge, but Y/n still had a lot in common with them. Probably the only reason she wasn’t dreading spending her entire Spring Break here.

“Y/n, can you please tell Pen that Judge Reinhold is hot.” Mary threw a magazine on the counter, revealing a picture of the lanky actor.

This was common between the sisters. They clearly had different types in men, and were always arguing about it.

“Why would you ask her? Her taste in men is questionable. She thinks Zach Gilligan is cute.” Penny declared.

“He is!” Mary shot back.

Penny let out a loud groan, rolling her head back.

Y/n peered at the magazine. “He’s not really my type.”

“See, I knew you– what?” Mary snapped her head towards her, eyebrows furrowed. She pushed her sister who cheered at the small victory. “Whatever. I don’t really value the opinion of someone who has never had a boyfriend.”

Y/n wasn’t hurt by the comment, and she would have flipped her cousin off if their mom’s weren’t watching.

They were also clearly listening, because her aunt spoke up. “What about that handsome boy who came over on Christmas?”

“I think he’s the only boy me and Mary agree is attractive.” Penny giggled.

Y/n’s mom rolled her eyes. “Y/n insists they’re just friends. I’m wiser than I look. I know that Harrington boy is sweet on her.”

Her entire family snickered, making Y/n’s cheeks heat up. “He is not.”

They all unanimously hummed, not believing a word she said.

Later that evening, Y/n was dressed in regular clothes, sitting in the living room area reading a book. Mary and Penny were watching Growing Pains when the phone began to ring, the twins yelled for someone to answer. Their mother mumbled under her breath about doing everything, even on vacation, nevertheless, she answered it.

“Y/n, it’s for you.” She called out in a sing-song voice.

Y/n furrowed her brows. She had only given Robin the number to the beach house, but only in case her house was on fire since she was in charge of watering her mom’s plants. She got up from the couch, walking over to her aunt holding the phone out for her niece to take. A smirk on her face when she grabbed it. “It’s your lover boy.” She teased, winking before she walked back to the kitchen.

Y/n took a moment before collecting her senses to put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Y/n.” Steve answered, almost in relief.

She wanted to slam the phone back on the wall. “What do you want?”

“I… I wanted to hear your voice.” There was a tone of defeat in his voice.

She looked around, not wanting any of her family to hear. “Are you drunk or something?”

“No.” He sighed. “You remember last summer?”

“Yeah.” It was kind of hard to forget.

“Well, all that crazy shit is back without the Russians.” He chuckled at the last part. He sounded so casual.

Flashbacks infiltrated her mind, her heart started to race. “Are you okay?”

He shushed her to calm down. “I’m okay, I promise. It’s a long story, but we have a plan to fix it.”

“We?”

“Yeah. Me, Dustin and his friends, Robin, Eddie Munson… Nancy.” He was hesitant about her name like he was afraid to say it out loud.

She ignored the burning in her chest. She was all the way in Florida while Steve was hanging out with his ex, his first love. “Eddie Munson? You’ve been complaining about him for months because you’re afraid Dustin likes him better than you.”

“That is not– like I said, it’s a long story.” She could see him pinching the bridge of his nose or even running a hand through his hair. “Listen, I called because I just wanted to let you know what was going on, okay?”

“Why?”

There was a pause.

“Because we’re friends.”

There was another pause.

“Because I care about you.”

A breath hitched in her throat. “Stop it.”

“No, it’s true.”

“Stop saying things like you’re going to die, Harrington. It’s cliché.”

She could hear his heavy breath. “Then I’ll tell you when you get back.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Alive?” She asked him.

“Alive.” He assured her.

“You better be or I’ll kick your ass, Harrington.”

He laughed. “I know you will. I gotta go now. I’ll see you.” His voice was soft.

“Yeah.”

Neither of them hung up the phone. She could still hear the crackling of him adjusting it against his ear. The silence was comfortable.

A few minutes had gone by and she heard the familiar raspy voice of Robin telling Steve they needed to get going.

He finally hung up.

—

Y/n’s vacation was cut short when the news broke Hawkins had experienced a large earthquake, resulting in twenty-two casualties and numerous homes being destroyed. Although Y/n concluded the earthquake had to do with whatever Steve had mentioned over the phone.

A long line of cars were exiting Hawkins as her family entered, almost like fools.

Their house had been spared, the only damage was that the porch swing had fallen from the hooks and split in half.

She had immediately gone to Robin’s house to check on her friend, but of course, was directed to Steve’s.

Y/n was surprised to be greeted by Steve’s dad when she rang the doorbell. Mrs. Harrington was talking frantically on the phone, a cigarette in her mouth. She gave Y/n a wave, covering the speaker. “They’re upstairs.” She mouthed, returning back to the conversation.

When she arrived outside of his bedroom, she could hear voices arguing.

She slowly opened the door, seeing Robin sitting on Steve’s bed. Almost out of instinct, she swung it open, running over to her, wrapping her arms around the girl. They both toppled on top of the bed. Robin laughed, patting Y/n on the back. They sat up, Robin brushed the hair out of her face. Y/n looked over to see Steve standing in front of his closet. A box at his feet, clothes in his hands. Next to him was a boy about an inch shorter than him, long curly hair, wearing a t-shirt and ripped jeans. His face was scarred with tiny teeth marks. She recognized him as Eddie Munson.

“Who’s this chick?” Eddie asked.

“Eddie, this is Y/n.” Robin introduced her.

A big grin appeared on his face. He walked over, took her hand and kissed it. “M’lady, it’s a pleasure to finally be acquainted with you. Heard a lot about you.”

Y/n giggled, looking over at Robin who was laughing too.

Steve, on the other hand, looked annoyed, returning back to his task of going through his closet. “Heard about me?”

Eddie placed his hands behind his back, looking her up and down. “Yeah, Steve would not shut up about you. However, he didn’t tell me his girl looked like an angel.”

“Munson, shut up before I tell my dad to call the lawyers off.” Steve threatened.

Whatever he meant by that, Eddie seemed scared, putting his hands up in surrender. Y/n noticed Steve looked over at Robin. They shared a wordless exchange. Robin stretched her arms out. “Eddie, can you take me home?”

“Didn’t we just get— ow.” Eddie leaned down to clutch his shin that Robin swore was an accident. It was weird seeing the new addition, and Y/n was sure she would be told everything that had happened while she was gone.

He took the hint, bowing over dramatically. Him and Robin said their goodbyes, walking out of the room, finally leaving Steve and Y/n by themselves.

Neither one spoke. The only sound of hangers clanking together and muffled voices from downstairs. Y/n played with the silver bracelet on her wrist, scanning her eyes on the plaid walls, remembering the first time she spent the night with him, waking up and making fun of how disturbing the pattern was.

She stood up from his bed, approaching him slowly. She wasn’t sure what to say. The phone call was the first real conversation they had in months. What was there even to say? Or how was she supposed to start? She was beside him now, and for some reason, he looked taller than she had remembered. He took his hand off the hanger, turning his body completely towards her. Without a beat, she engulfed the boy in a deep hug. He took a step back, surprised by the sudden contact.

They never hugged before, which is shocking because they’ve seen each other naked.

He returned the hug, tightening his grip on her. She heard a quiet sob leave his lips. He burrowed his head in her neck, tears soaking into her shirt. Both of them sank to the floor because his body had become too weak to stand.

She brushed her fingers through his hair, telling him everything was okay. She was there for him and she wasn’t leaving.

It took a few minutes for him to calm down, his head had found a place in her lap, mindlessly playing with one of her hands. With her free hand, she continued to run it through his hair.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” She finally asked him.

“We were so close.” He answered. “If I had done things differently.”

It was a mindless thought but it still hurt Y/n that Steve believed he was responsible for the destruction of Hawkins. “Steve, none of this is your fault. You can’t carry the fate of Hawkin’s on your shoulders.”

He puffed his cheeks, a long breath of air rolled out of his mouth. He shifted his body, wincing, clutching his side. Y/n tilted her head, pulling the hem of his shirt up, revealing similar bite marks that were on Eddie’s cheek. She didn’t make a comment about it or ask. Part of her didn’t want to know. Instead, she looked up above her at the remaining clothes in the closet, smirking when she saw the familiar brown sweater that he wore on Christmas. “I hope you decide to donate that ugly sweater.”

Steve’s eyes were closed, but he had a half-hearted smile on his face, knowing what she was referring to. “Too many great memories involve me wearing that sweater.”

“What? Like us having sex?” The joke felt like thick molasses, drowning her slowly, waiting for a reaction. He didn’t wince, his smile never faltered, nor did he open his eyes.

“Yeah.” He replied truthfully. “But also when I realized I am undoubtedly in love with you.”

His confession was cool and collected. She swore there was a smug look on his face and she wanted to wipe it off. For the past couple of months she had struggled to even come to terms with her own feelings and to watch him casually admit it almost made her laugh in disbelief.

Her silence made him open one eye, looking at her as she focused her eyes on the ceiling above her. “You know, one of the last conversations I remember with Heather was at Daniel Brown’s party senior year. She tried telling me I didn’t hate you as much as I led on. She’s probably laughing at me right now letting you lay on my lap. I’ve always thought you were an arrogant asshole. Don’t get me wrong. You’re still a pain in the ass, but Steve, you care so much about others. When you hung up that phone I was so scared you were going to die because I knew you would sacrifice anything to make sure everyone is okay.

“I would never forgive myself if you had died without knowing how much I care for you.” He sat up, scooching back, her knees touching his leg. His hands were behind him holding his body up. She met his eyes that always seemed to catch the sun, glossy and thick like honey. Like the honey she put in her tea. The tension in her shoulders relaxed. “Becoming friends with you was unexpected. I guess in a way I’ve felt guilty because I’ve been moving on with my life since Heather died. I guess I felt like I was betraying her.” She put a hand on his knee. He leaned forward, grabbing her hand, intertwining their fingers.

Steve’s face softened and his cheeks turned pink. “I’m sorry about everything. I didn’t want you to think I was using you for sex. Then I was nervous you might not feel the same. I was embarrassed, because I’m crazy about you, Y/n. I cannot stop thinking about you. When you asked if I didn’t think you should call that Edwin guy-”

“Eric.”

“Whatever his name was.” He rolled his eyes when she giggled. His voice dropped. “I wanted to beg you not to call him. But I felt like it was too selfish of me. Too selfish, wanting you to be my girl.”

Y/n lifted the corner of her mouth upwards, putting her hand on his cheek, brushing her thumb over the freckle she has been well acquainted with. “You’re allowed to be selfish sometimes.”

His jaw went slack and eyes were wide. He was too pretty for his own good.

Y/n remembered all the things she wanted to tell him over the course of getting to know him, but never did. She held it all back because she was afraid. She was afraid he hadn’t really changed at all and she had stupidly fell for his charm. She was afraid he would laugh in her face. She would feel like her porch swing that had fallen off the hinges and cracked in half.

“Falling in love with you was unexpected too.” She whispered, biting her bottom lip.

“I really want to kiss you.” Steve was already leaning towards her.

She smiled, ear to ear, allowing the pretty boy with the stupid hair and stupid eyes to be selfish.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #blaize writes #steve fic

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luvv4j4ybe11 · 6 months

Text

With time

✧𝐓𝐰𝐢n 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐥𝐨’𝐚𝐤

✧Tw!!: mentions of death,sibling loss, lo’ak dies instead of neteyam, lots of crying, first time celebrating birthday without your twin brother, mentions of su!c!de, underaged dr!nking, mentions of alcohol,mostly angst with some fluff towards the end (if you squint),feelings of grief and depression and I think that’s all, enjoy this lil Drabble<33

✧Dividers by @benkeibear

✧ translation(s): Skxawng-moron,idiot , kuru-queue, hammerbrow fish- the goldfish that kiri was playing with in that one scene (idk how else to describe it😭)

(Listen to this to make it extra sad🥰)

You woke up feeling the weight on your chest being even heavier than usual. Your face still wet with tears from last nights realization. That realization being that today was your birthday but not just yours, it was his too. Ever since the night he died, you haven’t left your side of the marui since.

Even though it’s been four months since your twin brother died, that day just keeps replaying in your head, the sound of your mother screaming, the look of absolute devastation on your older brothers face, the blood on your hands, the sound of tsireya crying, lo’aks cold expression, the way your father looked at you with complete disappointment and spat out a cold, “you’ve done enough”

Every time you thought about it you felt sick.

And naturally, being Navi twins you guys were connected more than normal siblings were, you felt each other’s heartbeats, felt when the other was happy or sad, uncomfortable or frustrated. So when you felt cold and utterly alone, you knew he was gone.

But yet there’s still times you hear his heartbeat, you feel how lonely he is and how much sorrow he’s filed with. And it makes you weak with sadness every time.

Being pulled out of your thoughts by a small pair of hands on your bicep shaking you back and forth, you turn around to see your baby sister staring back at you with a smile on her face, her eyes still washed with sadness. Yes, she was young, but she certainly wasn’t stupid. She knew how to read the room better than kids your age did.

“Sis, come on, get up! It’s your birthday!” She says while climbing onto you to give you a hug, which was something she did every year, but this one was more gentle and genuine than the others. You break the hug to place a hand on her head, lightly ruffling her braids,“Maybe later tuktuk, I’m still a little tired.” You say,weakly trying to hide the pain in your features with a fake smile.

She frowns at this, making you let out a soft chuckle as you go to push her off of you. Making her cling onto you more. “That’s what you always say!, please sis, can you get up? For me? For lo’ak?” She says while looking at you with puppy dog eyes. The slight mention of his name brings tears to your eyes, not ready to start this day without him.

“Sister, leave her be, alright? How about you go see what kiri is up to?” Neteyam says as he lifts the curtain to get into your side of the hut, holding it open for tuk to run out eagerly to find her sister.

Closing it, he glances at you before siting on your sleeping mat, “Sister, I’m-” “Teyam don’t. I can’t go through today with this fake sympathetic bullshit!, you guys were constantly on both of our asses for everything! You guys never cared about how we felt! How he felt! You know how many times he came to me telling me how dad made him feel like shit? Or how kiri was pushing him about certain things? Or how he caught dad talking to you about how he’s, “too reckless” and he “wouldn’t be surprised if he got himself killed”?”

His ears pin back to his skull immediately, knowing the exact conversation you were referring to. “Sister, you think that didn’t bother me too? I told him that lo’ak only acted like that because he wanted to be like him. But of course he didn’t listen. And do you think I wasn’t aware of how you guys felt? Why do you think I’d always have both of your guys backs whenever you got into trouble? Why do you think I came up with lies left and right to mom and dad so you two wouldn’t get your asses beat? I wanted to avoid making you guys feel like that, but I only have so much control y/n..” he says as he squeezes his his fists in anger, his feelings from that night bubbling to the surface again.

You move from your comfortable position to sit next to him, bringing him into a much needed hug. “Brother, I know you did. I know you try every single day. And I look up to you because of that. You’re stronger than I am. You keep pushing forward even though there’s so much shit happening to you, I don’t understand how you do it.” You say as you feel tears flowing from your face, the hug reminding you of how lo’ak used to hug you whenever you were in a mood.

“I do it because of you guys. Because of him. You guys are the reason I keep pushing. And especially the both of your skxawng asses” he says with a soft chuckle before breaking the hug, placing his hand on your head softly, something he did with you and lo’ak that became a comfort thing for the both of you. “You can do this today sister, I believe in you, we all do.” His tone making tears automatically spill over your eyes, and causing you to notice his tear filled eyes.

Looking for some sort of grounding you place your hand over his and squeeze, taking multiple deep breaths before speaking. “Teyam.. I can’t, I miss him so much. Everytime I wake up I feel so alone and cold, but I can still hear his breath, and his heartbeat. My pain is not only mine, but his too.” You say in between sobs, watching neteyams breathing get more shallow as he tries to hold in his tears. His features covered in concern.

“Oh baby sis..” bringing you into another much needed hug. He places a light kiss on your forehead before rubbing your back and gently swaying you from side to side,trying to calm down your cries.

Kiri walks in quietly, the feeling of your pain drawing her to your room. Her whole body goes slack and cold when she sees your state, making her glance at Neteyam. That feeling intensifying even more once she saw the pain in his eyes. She takes her place behind you, quickly inserting herself into the hug. Wrapping her right arm around your waist and the other overlapping with neteyams so she can hold him too,her chin resting on your shoulder.

“You feel him don’t you? His heartbeat? His sorrow? His breath? Like he’s just a word about to be spoken?” Without lifting your head you nod quickly, too mentally exhausted speak anymore. “I know how you feel sister. Take that feeling as a way of him telling you to keep going. Keep breathing for him, keep your heart beating for him. That sorrow will be gone once he sees that you’re living for him.”

Her words make you sob even more. Knowing she’s right, he’s always hated seeing you cry, and he did anything to fix it. Purposely making himself look like a dumbass, making you go on an ikran ride with him, asking you to go exploring with him, taking you to you guys secret spot, pinky promises. He did anything for you. And so did you.

A wave of calm suddenly hits you, making your sobs come to a complete stop, and your breathing becomes more level. Feeling the change, your siblings give each other a confused glance before looking down at you. “Sister?..” they both say in sync as you break the hug and get up, your features going completely cold. “I’m going to visit him..if that’s ok with you guys” you say while lifting up a blanket, revealing a stash of alcohol you’ve been keeping ever since his funeral.

Quickly you take a bottle and cover it back up, grabbing your hunting knife and putting on both you and lo’aks matching bracelets you made on your 10th birthday. Walking towards the curtain to leave, you’re pulled back by a gentle pull on your shoulder.

“Y/n..don’t don’t drink today. It’s not gonna stop you from hurting, and you know that.” Kiri says while gliding her hand down to your hand that was holding the alcohol firmly. “Yeah, I know that kiri, but it dulls it somewhat. And it stops me from wanting to throw myself off of a cliff so I think it’s worth it. Plus it’s my birthday! I’m allowed to drink as much as I want today!!” You say in a fake enthusiastic tone, your sarcasm reminding them so much of lo’ak.

“Y/n.” Neteyam says in a soft but stern tone, the one that told you that whatever he was about to say was gonna be serious. “Don’t drink. I know you’ve been hurting more than we have but we need you here. Lo’ak needs you here. You know how much he hates seeing you hurt.” He says as his voice starts to crack slightly, remembering all the things the three of them would come up with whenever you were anything but happy and content.

Feeling the tears well in your eyes again, you squeeze the bottle tighter, fighting the instinct to drown your feelings in the burning liquid.

Glancing over at them, your heart breaks seeing the genuine hurt on their faces because of the realization you’ve been drinking this whole time and they didn’t know. Sighing angrily,you shove the bottle into neteyams chest. “Fine, but when I get back just save me a bottle, because I know it’ll be gone by the time I come back.” You say while turning out of your room swiftly, leaving kiri and neteyam there speechless.

Once you get to the spirt tree, you thank payakan and tell him that you’ll see him soon. Ever since lo’aks passing you’ve only really left your marui to go see payakan, knowing he carries the same weight as you do.

While swimming towards the tree, you mentally prepare yourself for this painful experience. You’ve been avoiding coming to the tree in the first place, because you knew how much it take out of you. And he knew the same.

Connecting your kuru to the tree, you’re brought to you and lo’aks secret spot back at your actual home. The only place that brought you two comfort. Tentatively, you walk through the clearing, lo’ak still not in sight.

“Lo?, where are you?” You call out, the sound of your own voice making you realize you weren’t 15, but you were younger. Walking towards a curtain of flora that led to a small river, you catch a glimpse of your brother, making you walk quicker.

Once you get there you see lo’ak sitting at the edge of river with his feet languidly swaying in the water, just staring into the water. Almost like he was waiting for something, or someone. You don’t say anything at first, just taking in the sight of him after not seeing him for months.

“Brother..” you say softly, not wanting to disturb his peace. His head whips in the direction of your voice, his expression lighting up as he gets up and walks towards you. “Sister!!, I thought you’d never show!” He says as he takes you into a hug, the sound of his voice making you giggle since he was also his younger self.

“Of course I did, it just took me a little time. You know I’d always come to see your skxawng ass” you say as you break the hug to shove his face with your pointer and middle finger. He giggles at that, his smile making the weight on your chest get lighter.

Grabbing your hand, he guides you to where he was sitting. Taking your seat beside him, you gaze out into the water with him.Nervously playing with your extra finger, you take a breath before talking about what you were avoiding for so long.

“Brother I’m-” you exhale slowly before continuing, noticing out of the corner of your eye how all lo’aks attention was turned to you. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be here. It should’ve been me that got shot that night. I was the one that put the idea into your head to go save spider. I should’ve just told you and teyam to go so I could’ve got spider by myself-” “Sister,” he cuts you off, your rambling making the pain in his heart worse. “It’s not your fault. You need to stop hurting yourself like this. It’s not fair to you. You need to focus on now. Not ‘what if’. And plus, It’s not like I would’ve listened to you if you told me to go anyway, there’s no way in hell I’d let that happen.”

Both of you giggle at the last part, knowing that he’s not lying. Once your laughs die down, you look down at your hands, that feeling of guilt still lingering in your chest. Glancing over at you, he notices how you’re playing with your pinkies, a telltale sign that told him something was bothering you.“Sister, what else is it?” He says as he leans back onto his hands, noticing how your shoulders slightly go stiff from his question.

Turning your body to face him, you don’t fail to notice the genuine look of concern in his eyes. “You know what day it is today?” You ask, making his expression completely drop. “Yeah, I know.” The words feeling like a weight on his tongue. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do today without you lo’. I can’t. It hurts too much.” You say as the tears finally spill over your face, the grief crawling back up your throat once again. “No, y/n, you can and you will. For me. Just because I’m here doesn’t mean you can’t live out there. Live for me, y/n. Stop letting yourself be consumed by grief and guilt. I hate seeing you like this and you know that.” He says sternly, making sure you know he’s being serious.

All you do is nod your head, not trusting your voice with the lump in your throat and the never ending tears that keep falling from your eyes. The sight of your hurting form makes lo’aks heart twist in pain. And the fact he couldn’t really do much hurt even more. “Come here, sis,” Placing his hand on your shoulder he pulls you towards him. Giving you a much needed hug, immediately making you sob into the crook of his neck.

“I miss you, twin” he says while resting his chin on your shoulder, letting the tears fall freely from his eyes. You let out a broken, “i miss you more” as the void in your chest grows the longer you two hug.

Once you finally calm down,you break the hug, now seeing each other how you guys remember. “Well shit..” you both say in sync, making you both laugh. “You look so grown. I don’t like it.” Lo’ak says as he admires you a little longer, a feeling of peace swirling in his chest. “Yeah,me neither” you say in a soft tone, once again feeling guilty for moving on without him with you.

Placing left hand on your head, and his right on your shoulder he looks at you with a soft smile on his face, “Y/n,you’ll be ok. I’ll always be watching you, and I’ll always protect you.” The tone of his voice making you inhale sharply so the next wave of tears doesn’t come. He raises his pinky finger towards you, waiting for you to do the same. You let out a soft chuckle at his childish behavior before obliging.

Once both of you pinkies are holding onto one another, he grips your shoulder tighter. “Promise me, that you won’t give up on yourself, that you won’t push everyone away, that you won’t drink your feelings away. Promise me that you can get over this feeling. That you will live through this feeling.”

You squeeze his pinky even tightly as you feel the tears well up in your eyes, realizing that time will make no difference to how much you miss him. But it will for how much you will grow through this feeling.

Tugging his pinky towards yours, you nod your head ‘yes’ before saying, “I promise. I promise I’ll do my best for you. I promise that I’ll try for you.” The words making a smile appear on his face. He brings you into a loving hug, the warmth of comfort washing over both of you guys.

“Happy birthday,twin” you guys say in sync again, a soft giggle coming from both of you. Breaking the hug, he grabs your hands and squeezes them tightly “ow! That hurts!” “I don’t care! I want you to have fun for me today alright? Celebrate us! Spend time with everyone that loves you and gives a shit about you. You deserve it!” he says through his laughs, making you smile softly at his childish demeanor.

“Alright I will!! I’ll come visit you again tonight and I’ll tell you all about today!” You say in a giddy tone, noticing that this has been the first time you’ve been somewhat happy since these last 4 months.

“You better” he says while rolling his eyes dramatically, knowing he did it to make you laugh. Once your laughter dies down, you both look back at the water. Not wanting this moment to end already. “I love you,bro” you say while bumping your shoulder against his, making him laugh and do the same to you. “I love you more,sis” he says with a soft smile on his face, one that replaced the one on yours.

You two stay like this for a while, just basking in each others presence and invading each others space. Thoughts of leaving suddenly crowd your head and the second those thoughts occur, your brother says something about it.“Y/n go spend the day with them. You know how they get on our birthday, plus they’ll make you feel better.” He says in a delicate tone, a soft smile on his face from remembering how much they loved celebrating your birthdays. You sigh softly, before reluctantly standing up.

He gets up with you, bringing you into an affectionate hug. Without breaking it, he whispers “I’ll miss you,sister.” With complete sadness laced in his tone. A tear falls from your face from the sound of his voice,“I’ll miss you more than you’ll ever know, brother.” You two stay like this for a while, until it starts getting harder to breathe, a harsh reminder of the truth.

Breaking the hug, you give him a look that lets him know that, making him hesitantly let go of you. “I’ll see you later tonight brother, I promise. I love you!” You say while turning around to leave, hearing him let out a little ‘I love you, too’ before you leave.

Once you reach the surface you catch your breath, calling out to your ilu and mentally going over your interaction with your brother to avoid acknowledging that void in your chest.

It’s a peaceful ride back home, until you start getting in your head about ‘having fun’ today without lo’ak. Because it wasn’t just your birthday, but his too. And celebrating without him just doesn’t feel right, even tuk knows that.

But right when you start having those doubts, a group of hammerbrow fish swarm around you and your ilu, stopping you in your tracks. One of them swims up to your face and flicks your forehead, making you furrow your brows and shove it away. They swim around you and you ilu for awhile longer before leaving, one of them staying back a little longer to look at you.

The whole interaction left you with a smile on your face, knowing that it was definitely lo’ak telling you to calm down, and to stop worrying about unnecessary things. Making hope swirl in your chest.

With time, you know you’ll be okay.

A/N~ this took SO LONG to write oh my fucking god. But we made it!! And I hope you guys enjoyed this (and this is my first angst fic so pls cut me some slack if some phrasing gets repetitive😔) because I did, didn’t enjoy the tears I cried while writing this but it was worth it🩷 if you made it to the end and you’re reading this I wanna thank you so much for reading this whole long ass fic, must really love me huh😏?? LMFAOO but anyway! Otw to write for kinkmas now🏃🏽‍♀️💨

Duces🫶🏽,

Luvv4j4ybe11

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