retrobutterflies

[retrobutterflies]

ok i NEED more billie fics from you omg i think that ambrosia altered my brain chemistry.

Omg I'm literally plotting another one rn :)

[retrobutterflies]

Ambrosia | billie eilish

Billie Eilish x Female!Reader

Summary: Your avoidant attachment style can only work for so long until it's time to face the music.

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Bi panic, hurt/comfort, fluff

A/N: If you've gone to see her on tour, you and I are in a fight.

You had been acting off. You knew it. And you weren't a very good actress so you could tell your friends knew it too. But no one had said anything, at least not yet. You had tried to drop hints of work being stressful or your lease ending soon but they were halfhearted and pitiful attempts to camouflage your real turmoil.

You could tell Billie knew it too. Her eyes lingered on you a little longer when someone would say a joke and everyone would laugh and you would be quiet in the corner consumed by your thoughts. A few times she called your name to pull you back into the conversation, a quirked eye brow and side smirk barely concealing the confusion or concern lingering in her eyes. Sometimes it was a gentle nudge in the side or handing you a fresh drink to pull you back from your mind. And it would work for a while until you couldn't stop focusing on how close she was sitting to you on the couch or how every time she would laugh her body would lean into yours and you would feel her warmth and smell her perfume. And then you would be sucked right back into the buzzing thoughts of panic and fear and confusion and you would be plotting your escape route before you imploded.

Tonight was harder than usual. You had been in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and sipping your third beer that was finally giving you a little buzz, softening your brain for the time being. Oliver had come up to you with an award winning grin and glinting eyes. He was a friend of a friend but he seemed to be at every party you were and slowly but surely you started talking and flirting every time you saw each other. You knew if you wanted someone to dance with or chat or make out in the bathroom you could find him and he would give you his charming smile and an enthusiastic yes.

Only tonight it was different. Everything had felt different since your startling realization on the floor of your room a month ago. You noticed him before he reached you and instead of the usual feelings of excitement or anticipation, all you felt was anxiety. Your stomach had been in knots on and off all night and suddenly at the sight of him they were back to full power.

"I thought I'd never find you," he mused, strolling up to you and leaning his torso against the marble counter top. "I thought maybe you were avoiding me."

You let out a soft puff of a laugh, taking a larger gulp of your beer before replying, "I'm avoiding everyone.”

He quirked an eyebrow, pushing back a brown tuft of hair out of his forehead. "For any particular reason?"

You pursed my lips, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, thinking about how to respond. "Just, tired, I guess," was your intelligent response.

"Just tired, you guess," he echoed, eyebrows raising further as he tilted his head at you. His eyes were piercing and you could feel him trying to peel back the layers of your newfound shell.

"Too tired to even dance with me?" he asked, giving you a soft, playful nudge in the side. You tried to give him a smile though you were sure it looked more like a wince.

"I'm sorry, Oliver, I'm just–" You struggled to find the words, the knots tightening in your stomach, "–out of it today."

He let out a hum, taking a sip of his IPA, and stared at you long and hard.

"Is this about a boy?" he questioned.

You winced but it only seemed to encourage him.

"So it is. C'mon, I'm not upset that you have a crush, I’m just upset its not on me," he joked, nudging you again. When you didn’t respond he continued.

"So," he repeated, "Who is it? I promise I'll keep it a secret."

You shook my head, taking another large sip of your drink like it could wash away the anxiety blooming in your chest.

"Is it Ben? You guys used to talk didn't you?" he continued, eyes now scanning the busy kitchen and through the archway peaking into the living room.

"Or Sebastian? I know he's always had a thing for you. He glares at me sometimes," he let out a chuckle.

"Oliver–" You tried to cut him off.

"Wait no, it's Griffen isn't it? God, I should've guessed that first."

"Oliver, stop, please," You put a hand up to rub the spot between your forehead that was starting to ache.

He looked back at you and frowned. "I get it, you don't have to tell me. I have been told I give good advice though," he said.

You looked up at him. His big brown eyes were sincere and there was a time when they used to make butterflies erupt in your stomach. But now it was like any fascination you had had with him before had puffed out like a candle.

"Listen, I appreciate that, but–" You let out a breath, trying to choose your words carefully, "this has nothing to do with a boy."

"You sure?" he replied, skeptical. Your stomach twisted again.

"I'm sure," You breathed.

He left you alone after that, strolling away to find his next playmate. You stood there for a while, people watching and sipping on your beer. It didn't take you long to notice Billie with a few of your friends, perched on a couch in the living room, a perfect view from the kitchen. Someone said something and she laughed, throwing her head back, hair glinting in the low lighting. You stared for longer than you should've.

And then she finally noticed you. Her eyes caught yours and her smile morphed into a softer more tentative one. The anxiety that had been appeased for the moment roared back to life and you felt your heart rate quicken to the point that you could feel your pulse in your neck. You looked away, clenching onto your near empty beer can before sliding it onto the counter. You looked up to see the far door to the balcony and before you could think your legs were taking you there.

It was surprisingly empty and the chill of the autumn air felt refreshing against your burning cheeks. You leaned your elbows on the metal railing, taking in a few deep breaths as your eyes scanned the glowing lights of the city skyline.

You felt like you were going crazy. Everything you had known about yourself had suddenly flipped on its head on a random Tuesday and now you couldn't function normally. You were overthinking everything. All of your relationships, all of your friendships, all of your actions. How could you have not known? How could it have taken you this long? Don't people usually know right away?

"Hey," her voice hit you like an electrical shock. You jumped slightly and usually this would've made her chuckle but you could tell she knew something wasn't right. "Sorry," she said, her voice a hair softer, "I didn't mean to scare you."

You finally turned to look at her as she was closing the sliding door behind her. Her eyes seemed cautious and she took slowed steps towards you like you were a frightened animal.

"No, it's fine. Sorry, I'm–" losing my mind, "just a little tired."

She came to stand next to you, leaning her arms on the railing as well, and nodded. A few pieces of dark hair fluttered in the crisp breeze and your eyes lingered for a moment. You took in her side profile, the slope of her nose, flush of her cheeks, the pinched wrinkle between her eyebrows. She was quiet for a while, eyes looking out at the city, seeing through it like it wasn't even there at all.

"You seem to be tired all the time now," she finally said, her voice low and soft. You could hear her attempt at light humor, trying break the tension that had settled between you as the weeks went on but you could read her well and you could see the worry etched on her face and feel the apprehension in her words.

"Yeah," was all you could muster to reply. Your mind flashed back to all of the plans you had turned down or cancelled on last minute under the ruse you were tired. You turned your attention back to the city, trying hard to focus your eyes anywhere but her face.

You could practically hear the thoughts buzzing in her head, all the words and questions she had for why you had suddenly sunk into yourself. And why you had suddenly started avoiding her. She let out a soft sigh. You could feel her gaze on the side of your cheek but you couldn't bring yourself to look at her.

"Are you doing okay?" she asked, voice even softer than before.

You bit the inside of your cheek. You weren't sure how to respond. Any wrong word and you might very well burst into tears.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" You replied. You tried to sound nonchalant but even you could hear the slight waver in your voice. You moved your hands to grip the railing, an attempt at grounding yourself so you didn't lose your resolve in front of her. You were already thinking about an escape route, maybe to the bathroom to cry or maybe straight out the front door where you could call someone to come pick you up.

She paused for a moment, staring at you. You could tell she was trying to read between the lines, hear the words you weren't saying. And you knew if you met her eyes she would be able to pull them from you in an instant.

"You know," she paused again, her eyes still boring into the side of your face, "usually I don't pry because you always come to me when you're ready but–"

She let out another sigh, finally pulling her gaze away and back towards the twinkling night. She tapped her fingers softly on the railing. You could hear her rings making gentle clinks against the metal. It was a tell tale sign she was nervous or agitated, or maybe both.

"You're worrying me a little." She took another breath. "And I just want to make sure you're alright because I can tell something is bothering you even if you're not ready to tell me what it is yet."

You could feel your eyes start to sting and your hands were starting to freeze from clenching the cold steel of the railing for so long but you didn't dare move them for fear their fidgeting would give you away. But your throat had tightened to the point that you weren't sure you could say any word without it sounding strained and threatening tears.

"And–" she started again, her voice taking on a slightly pained sound, "if I did something that upset you I'm really sorry. I know I can be a lot sometimes but I don't want that to make you uncomfortable or . . ." She trailed off, grimacing at her own words.

You finally plucked up the courage to look at her. She looked pained and you felt the anxiety in your stomach turn to dread. She looked so worried and it was obvious that your strange behavior had been affecting her for a while now. And somehow she knew she was the cause.

"You started acting strange after the last time we hung out and I–" she scrunched her face up in regret, "–didn't mean to do anything that would make you uncomfortable and sometimes I get too comfortable and I forget to check myself–" she let out a frustrated sigh. You turned your gaze away sharply.

Your mind spun back to that moment a month ago, both of you sitting on the floor of your room. You didn't even remember what you had been talking about but you remembered your stomach had cramped from laughing so hard. And your faces were so close together. And she had started playing with your hair, first brushing it behind your ear and then twirling a strand or two. And then her finger had brushed so lightly against your cheek once, then twice, then it travelled down your jaw then towards your neck and left goosebumps and tingles in its wake and then so suddenly like a bolt of lightening you had wanted her to kiss you.

Your whole life you had thought you only liked boys. You had only ever had crushes on boys and dated boys and then suddenly you wanted a girl and you had to double back through every interaction in your life to see if you had been deluding yourself, refusing to acknowledge this second side of you. And it was an earthshaking realization that you hadn't even known yourself and that you had been so blind to it.

And then the worst part about it was that it wasn't just any girl but it was your best friend. The most major, important, integrated person in your life and suddenly you had feelings for her and you had no idea what to do.

"I just–I didn't mean to let it get–" she cut herself off, letting out another frustrated huff.

You couldn't risk looking at her. Your eyesight was already blurring from the moisture building up in your waterline and you knew if you made a sound it would cause them to start falling, ruining any last shred of dignity you had left.

You could feel her gaze on you again, penetrating and heavy and from the corner of your eye you could see her shoulders sag and her head dip slightly.

She was quiet for another few seconds before murmuring a quiet, "I'm sorry."

It made your heart clench painfully and you wanted to turn to her and reassure her that nothing was her fault and you were just dealing with your own inner turmoil but you could already feel a few tears escaping your eyes and rolling hot and fast down your wind-bitten cheeks.

She took your silence as rejection and pulled back suddenly from the balcony. "I'll, um, leave you be for a little. If, uh–" her voice sounded pinched and low and you could picture the look of defeat on her face and it made you feel like throwing up.

"If you need a lift home, just, uh, let me know," she murmured.

She turned around and took a few steps to the door, hand resting on the handle. You turned to look at her, sudden panic and desperation clawing at your neck at the thought of her leaving even though a second ago that was all you had wanted.

"Bil–" Her name got caught in your throat that had tightened so much you felt like you were choking.

She turned quickly, shock filtering across her features as she noticed the tears.

"Are you crying?" her voice held a quiet tone of surprise but it was enough for the rest of the tears you had been desperately holding back to break free.

You cupped your hands over your eyes, a hiccup of a sob leaving your lips, and pressed your sleeves into your eyelashes in a piteous attempt to dry up your tears. You heard her whisper your name before you felt her in front of you.

"Please don't cry. I didn't realize–" Her hands went to your shoulders, squeezing slightly before pulling you forward until you could feel her torso pressing against yours and feel her arms winding around your body.

It was useless fighting your emotions. They had always won before. It was silly of you to think you could beat them now. You felt yourself sink into her, your hands moving to wind around her neck, pressing your cheek against her warmth.

"I'm–I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you were so upset. I–" she sounded like she couldn't find her words, still surprised by your reaction. Her arms tightened around you, one of her hands reaching up to cup the crown of your head.

She dragged her hand down the back of your head, fingers raking through your hair, brushing against your scalp. We stood there for a while, your tears soaking into the sleeve of your shirt, her delicately stroking your head, dolling out a few hushed apologies even though there was nothing for her to be apologizing for.

Finally, when your choking whimpers and nearly ceaseless tears quieted down, she pulled back. She pulled her sleeve over her hand and pressed it gently against your cheek and with slow and deliberate movements she wiped away the wetness on your face. It was an intimate enough gesture to bring more tears to your eyes but she tutted at you.

"Come on, baby. I don't want you to run yourself ragged," she cajoled though her voice was still hushed and the worry never left her face.

'Baby' hit you right in the chest. She had called you that before, and more often in recent memory, and though it had always made you feel warm it had never quite knocked the breath out of you like now.

She swiped her thumb over your eyelid, then the other, brushing the new tears from your lashes. Then she swiped the delicate skin under your eyes, once, twice, maybe a third for good measure. You couldn't tell where the flush in your cheeks from the cold stopped and the blush began. Her eyes now held yours and in the darkness their hue was almost as dark as the deepest part of the ocean and you could see the lights of the city glittering in her irises like she had plucked all of the stars from the sky and sprinkled them in her eyes. And for a second time you were breathless.

"Why don't I take you home?" she breathed, eyes now flittering around your face.

You wanted to reply with something witty, something to ease the tension even a hint but you couldn't find your words. All you could do was give her a nod. She held out her hand to you and like it was second nature you took it. Her rings were cool against your skin but her hand was warm and soft and she gave you a reassuring squeeze before gently tugging you back inside the apartment.

She didn't bother to say goodbye to anyone. You were sure she was doing it for your sake. You knew you looked like a mess. Her car was parked on the street and she opened the passenger door for you and waited until you were seated before shutting it and going towards the driver's side.

She didn't say anything, only turned the radio on to a comfortable buzz before starting in the direction of your apartment. You leaned your forehead against the cool glass of the window and shut your eyes tight, trying to take in the small moment of peace before you knew you would have to finally explain yourself. You could feel her heavy glances and for a moment you swore she was going to reach out to touch you but she didn't and soon enough you were pulling into the parking garage of your apartment.

She pulled into one of the designated spots for your unit, the other one reserved for your roommate. It was essentially hers since you didn't have a car and the familiarity of her pulling in like normal when she hadn't done it for a month had your heart clenching again.

The elevator ride was quiet as was the walk to your unit. When you opened the front door, your roommate and her boyfriend were cozied up on the couch, watching the newest slasher flick. You had calmed down enough to offer them a pleasant greeting as you took your shoes off and they turned their attention from the glowing TV to respond. You could see the peaked interest on your roommate's face at the sight of Billie standing next to you who she hadn't seen since that fateful day.

"Let us know if we need to turn the volume down," your roommate said and you gave her a small smile before leading Billie down the hall and to your room, shutting the door behind you.

For the first time ever, she looked somewhat lost being in your room. You were so used to her sprawling on your bed, borrowing your clothes without needing to ask, using far too much of your body wash when she took a shower and now she was lingering by the door, arms crossed over her chest like she was too scared to touch anything. You dropped your bag onto your desk and sunk down to sit on the bed. You patted the spot next to you.

"You can come sit," You said, before adding, "If you want."

She relaxed slightly and nodded, shrugging off her jacket onto your desk chair before taking the space next to you. You sat there in a thick silence. You opened your mouth to speak but your courage was depleting at a rapid rate and your eyes kept flashing back to that moment a month ago, seeing you both like ghosts sitting on the floor in front of you. She finally broke the silence first.

"I just want to say that," she took a steadying breath, eyes focused on her hands that were wringing nervously in her lap, "I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable and I'm sorry that I overstepped a boundary."

You let your eyes wander over her face. Her brows pulled together, furrowing slightly as she thought back to that day.

"I know you don't have those feelings and I–" she shook her head, pieces of dark hair falling into her face making her brush them back behind her ears.

"I shouldn't have let myself get close like that. It wasn't fair to you," she admitted, letting out an irritated exhale.

She was quiet again. You weren't sure if she was waiting for you to answer or trying to find the words to keep going. You felt your pulse quicken as you stared at her. She lifted her head and her eyes met yours and again you were breathless. She had always been beautiful but you had never let yourself view her as anything more than a friend. And now looking at her you had the crushing realization that you didn't think you could ever view her as anything but anymore.

"Billie," your voice was quiet and you didn't realize what you were going to say until the words were spilling out of your mouth.

"I love you."

She blinked at you, eyes wide and flickering between yours. And then she grimaced. You couldn't help but feel the wash of rejection settle in your chest.

"Don't say that," she said, shaking her head and looking like you had just slapped her.

"Why?"

She stood up abruptly, like being close to you was suddenly suffocating her. She crossed her arms back in front of her chest, eyes looking around your room but focusing on nothing.

"Because you don't mean it," she muttered, her eyes following the myriad of pictures and polaroids you had decorated over your wall, her face smiling back in more than a few of them.

"What do you mean?" You almost laughed at the absurdity. "Of course I do."

She shook her head again and turned back to look at you and you were taken aback at the sudden anger swirling in her eyes.

"You fell of the face of the planet four weeks ago," she snapped. Her eyes were narrowed and her thick liner made them look darker than normal.

"You barely answered my texts. I thought I had done something horrible. And then when I realized what I had done you were no where to be found for me to apologize. You iced me out so fast it made my head spin!"

You couldn't help but gape at her. She bit her lip, her eyes now glimmering with her own tears threatening to fall. The sight of them made your insides coil up so tight you almost felt faint.

"One second we're talking about the future, laughing at the possibility that we could ever live apart from each other and the next second you're gone like I was suddenly nothing to you," she exclaimed, her voice raising in a mix of anger and pain. A couple stray tears rolled down her cheeks and she angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"You can't just leave me like that and then . . . and then–" she let out a shuddering breath, "say you love me."

You felt your tears resurface, stinging against your lashes as you stared at her. Guilt was wrapping around you like vines and you couldn't believe you didn't realize how much you had hurt her from pulling away like that.

"And it's not fair because you don't even mean it. Not–" she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment like she could force her tears back.

"It doesn't mean the same thing to you,” she finally met your eyes, "Not in the way that it does to me."

"Billie, I–" You felt your breath get caught in your throat, "I'm so sorry."

She stared at you for a painstakingly long moment before the anger seeped out of her and was replaced by dejection. She sunk down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"No–" she rested her forehead against her knee, her face now hidden from your gaze, "I'm sorry. I just–You'd think at this point I'd be able to deal with it better, you know? But it doesn't seem to get any easier."

You got up from your spot on the bed and sunk down to the floor with her.

"You have feelings for me," You suddenly realized, eyes scanning her as if you were trying to see what you had been missing all this time.

She let out a humorless laugh. "Brutal, isn't it?”

She chuckled again, raising her head to rest her chin on the top of her knee.

"You don't even like girls. And I can't seem to like anyone but you," she admitted, her voice rasping at the end. It sounded like she had accepted her fate long ago and you couldn't help but feel the pang of regret in your chest at wishing you had realized this so much earlier.

"I tried to make it go away. But sometimes I would just let myself pretend just for a second that you felt the same way," she let out a heavy breath.

"The last time I was here, I just, I let myself pretend a little too long and I got carried away."

She met your eyes and a few rouge tears dropped down her cheeks. Instinctively, you reached out and brushed them away, cupping her face and swiping your thumbs across the swells of her cheeks. She closed her eyes and you watched her face relax for a fleeting moment before the anguish was creeping back in again.

"You can't do that," she whispered, eyes blinking open as she pulled her face out of your hands. "You're only gonna make it worse."

We stared at each other for a few moments, the air heavy and thick with emotion. But you could feel your resolve strengthening after she bared her heart to you. You figured it was only fair to do the same.

“I love you,” You repeated, this time more firm than the last.

She winced again like the words were painful to hear.

“I mean it,” You said, “I love you.”

She shook her head, not believing your words or maybe thinking you didn’t understand her.

“You don’t,” she denied, opening her mouth to retort again but you cut her off.

“I do,” you insisted. “Please, just–Let me explain.”

She closed her mouth, blinking at you before giving you a short nod.

"I grew up in a very traditional household," you started, taking a wavering breath to ready yourself. "My whole life I was surrounded by nothing but heterosexuality. My parents, my relatives, all of my friends. And I had always liked boys but it had never crossed my mind that I might like girls too."

"And when I met you I knew you were going to be so special to me. It was kind of frightening how quickly we grew attached. But I had always valued my close friendships with girls that I just–" you shook your head, eyes straying to your hands nestled in your lap, "I hadn't realized that sometimes my feelings went beyond the scope of platonic."

"But last month, when you were here and we were talking I . . . I had this sudden realization that I wanted you to kiss me.”

You looked up to see her eyes boring into you. She kept so still like she was worried one wrong move and you would close back up.

“I had to . . . comb back through my life to make sense of it. I didn’t realize–I thought you just knew. I thought it was so crazy of me to only realize now and . . . how stupid could I be for not knowing I felt like this.”

You shut your eyes, thinking back through all those memories you had replayed over and over again.

“And then I thought back to moments between us,” you let out a shaky exhale, feeling your eyes sting, “How close we get, the things we talk about. How I don’t let anyone do the things you do. How I always look to you first for anything.”

You could feel her penetrating gaze even with your eyes shut.

“And then I just . . . I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Your friendship is so important to me but I didn’t know how to be around you without confronting these new feelings. And I couldn’t,” you winced, letting out another shaky sigh, “I couldn’t bare the thought of losing you because of them.”

It was so quiet for a moment you thought maybe she had left. But after a few beats of silence you heard her shuffle towards you and then slowly her arm curved around your back and she was pulling you into her.

“You could never lose me,” she said so softly it was nearly a whisper, her voice thick with emotion.

You bit your lip hard to stop it from trembling. Her other hand found your face and cupped your cheek, nudging you to look up at her. You opened your eyes to be met with her anguished expression, eyes glossy in the dim lighting, eyeliner smudged at the sides.

“And you’re not stupid,” she said, brows furrowing further.

“But how could I not have known–”

“That doesn’t make you stupid. There’s no calendar for this shit,” her thumb danced softly over the plush of your cheek, so light, so delicate, you couldn’t help but lean into it.

“So you believe me?” you finally asked after another bout of silence.

“That you love me?” she questioned, a rasp in her tone. You nodded.

She moved her hand to stroke back your hair from your face, thumb lingering on my hairline as she brushed back the soft baby hairs.

“Yes,” she finally conceded, eyes roaming around your face like this was the first time she was able to openly admire it. Her face drew closer and you could feel the warmth of her breath graze your lips.

“You just can’t go cold on me like that again,” she breathed, her eyes so blue and captivating like this was some sort of spell she was weaving on you. “I felt insane.”

You let out a weak chuckle. She mirrored your smile, eyes straying to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, making her eyes meet yours again, “I really am.”

“I know, baby,” she replied.

That was all it took for you to lean in and kiss her. She took a sharp intake of breath, maybe in surprise, but her lips responded to yours in an instant. They were so soft, velveteen and silky, and you could smell her sweet perfume overwhelming your senses. And she tasted like honey and mint and ambrosia and you couldn’t believe you hadn’t kissed her before.

Her hand raked through your hair, curving around the back of your neck, massaging the tendon as her kisses grew deeper and sweeter. You felt your mind start to mellow into a hypnotic buzz where you couldn’t think much past her and her satin lips and her soft exhales fanning over your face. Her other hand slid around your torso, palm centering on the small of your back, before she was pulling you into her and up onto her lap.

“Fuck,” you breathed between kisses, wrapping your arms around her neck so you could press yourself in further.

Slowly her kisses strayed from your lips, tracing the edge of your jaw. She nudged her cheek against the underside of your jaw making your head lift so she could press fiery kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. You dug your fingers into her hair, tightening your hold when she found an extra sensitive spot making her let out a pleased hum against your skin that vibrated and tickled.

“Bil–” You could barely speak, so consumed by her ministrations.

She littered kisses on your neck and over your pulse point where you were sure she could feel how fast your heart was beating. You felt her grin against your skin, nipping softly before apologizing with a searing kiss. Your body was turning lax and her arms tightened around your torso, anchoring you to her.

Then her lips were moving back up, leaving a wake of tingles as they climbed before they found yours again. You kissed back eagerly, trying to convey everything you weren’t able to in words, your guilt, your fear, your worry, your adoration, your love. And she drank you in, evaporating the remnants of your anxiety and doubt.

It took you a moment to realize one of her hands had slipped under the back of your shirt, her palm warm and pleasing against your bare skin. She dragged her nails lightly down your spine and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation. You felt her smile against your lips and after pressing one, two, a third, another kiss she finally relented, pulling her head back so she could look at you.

Your eyes fluttered open, dazed. Hers were half-lidded and penetrating and her lips were a bright pink, bruised and swollen. Her free hand reached back up, pushing your hair back and stroking her fingers delicately along your cheek.

“I love you too,” she murmured, voice so soft you could’ve missed it.

A flood of warmth filled your chest and a blush rose on your cheeks and she seemed unable to stop herself from leaning in and pressing a kiss against the flushing skin.

“I really missed you,” you confessed, sighing in contentment as her lips lingered on your cheek.

“Not as much as I did,” she said, leaning back again so she could look at you. She rested her head back against the foot of the bed, looking at you low through her dark lashes.

“No I was going crazy,” you admitted and she let out a spluttering laugh. You smiled for the first time in what felt like forever, gaze lingering on her squinting eyes and the small dimple that appeared on her chin.

“Dude, I was out of my mind. I wouldn’t shut up about you. I literally wrote a fucking song because you were ignoring me,” she confessed.

“No way,” you laughed, delighted at the thought that she would ever like you enough to write a song about you.

“I did,” she affirmed, snickering, moving both of her arms down to rest behind your back, tugging you in again so you sat higher on her lap.

“Will you let me hear it?” you asked, moving your hands down to her neck, finding the soft baby hairs at her nape and brushing your thumbs against the sides.

“I was really in my feels,” she warned.

“That’s okay,” you said and she smiled at you so softly that you felt a swirl of butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“Okay,” she said, biting her lower lip, eyes flashing back down to yours.

“Really?”

“Mhm, you just can’t make fun of me though,” she replied and you let out another soft laugh at the thought.

“I’ve never made fun of you in my entire life,” you said unable to stop your smile and she guffawed at you.

“Still a shit liar I see,” she retorted.

“I’ve never lied either,” you said, grinning and she squeezed your side making you let out a shocked giggle.

“‘No, I’m fine Billie. I’m just tired. Nothing is wrong and I’m not ignoring you’,” she paraphrased, poking fun now at your sorry excuses for avoiding her.

You groaned half in regret, half in embarrassment.

“I mean, it’s not entirely a lie. I was sleeping like shit,” you admitted.

She hummed, eyes seemingly now noticing the darker shadows lurking under your eyes, your makeup long gone from all of your tears.

“I was too,” she said, taking a deep sigh, “How do you think I had time to write a whole song?”

You laughed again and she smiled at you. All of the worry and sadness that had clouded her face for the past few weeks had finally left. She looked like she had her sparkle back and you felt breathless at the thought that it was because of you.

“Would you, um,” your eyes flickered between hers, suddenly nervous, “wanna stay the night?”

She let out an affronted laugh. “Did you think I wanted to leave?”

“I was just checking. I didn’t wanna push you or anything,” you replied, narrowing your eyes at her but unable to quell your smile.

“I know, baby. And I appreciate it,” she cooed, leaning in to kiss your cheek again.

“I like when you call me that,” you confessed, the words leaving your lips before you could even think to stop them.

“Yeah?” Her grin deepened and you nodded, your cheeks warm. She hummed again.

She stared at you for another long moment, eyes scanning your face, her hand reaching up to brush your hair back. Your eyes fluttered shut at the comfort.

“You’ll tell me next time when you’re this upset?” she asked, voice softer now.

You blinked open your eyes. Her worry was seeping back and you felt the guilt pool in your stomach again but you pushed it back, confident in the fact that you couldn’t ignore her again even if I tried.

“I promise.”

She stared at you long and hard. And then she leaned in and pressed another silken kiss to your lips.

“Good because otherwise I’m breaking down your door,” she mumbled against your lips and you couldn’t contain your laugh. And then she pressed in further, kissing away all the guilt and fear that lingered, replacing it with nothing but the touch of her lips.

A/N: If there are any spelling or grammatical errors no there aren't (me gaslighting you)

[retrobutterflies]

So so cute and lovely!

loved up?

pairing; fred weasley x fem!reader

series; the bestfriendverse NEW! (ongoing)

warnings; allusions to self harm (reader), pining, idiots in love (but they don't know it yet), a lil sad but also fluffy

synopsis; fred gives you - his obviously platonic best friend - a cuddle in the common room. an interrogation ensues.

a/n; i'm veeeery rusty but i'm back bitches!! and proud to present.... the bestfriendverse. turning this into a lil series of drabbles (& hopefully longer chapters) if my brain keeps braining for long enough. so requests are muchly appreciated and my inbox is always open. cannot wait to explore these two in more depth!!! missed you all </3

You're halfway into Fred's lap when George and Lee round the corner to the common room, melty soft and warm with your legs over his thighs, eyes closed and lashes brushing at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

He smells lovely.

He feels even lovelier – that soft rumble of his chest that lazily pushes its way through you, his hand at the side of your neck, keeping you nuzzling against him like a needy kitten. He hikes you further up and you preen, eyes still closed, half asleep and well on your way to drooling on his shoulder.

You stretch and wheedle your arms underneath his own until your shoulder is squeezed beneath his armpit. He makes room for you, as expected.

"Oi! They're having a love-fest in here!" Lee says. You groan and dig your head further into Fred's neck. Your heartbeat ticks up when he scrubs a sweeping circle over your back with his palm outstretched –you don't even mind when he rucks up your t-shirt.

You diligently ignore the hammering in your own ears.

The other end of the settee dips and George's weight settles at your back, knuckles brushing at the back of your neck in a way he knows makes you bristle and squirm. You squeak and make to dive behind Fred.

"Leave her be, Georgie," Fred says, mock offence dripping from his every syllable. His arm lifts instinctively and he ushers you right under until you're well and truly squashed, your whole body curled inward against his chest. It's endearing how seriously he takes defending your honour. "We were very comfortable before you interrupted, you silly sod."

"I resent that comment."

"You resemble it, more like."

George gasps in faux horror. You tip your head upwards just in time to watch Lee throw his arms around the pair of you, a devious grin on his face.

You know what he's going to say, no matter how much you wish he wouldn't.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you two looked proper loved up. Wouldn't you agree, George?"

"Absolutely."

If Fred feels you deflate, he's gracious enough not to mention it. Your lips purse and you busy yourself picking at your cuticles.

"Shut up," Fred snorts as though the thought alone is utterly ridiculous. Your heart does this awful sort of flip-flop that knocks the breath right out of you– it leaves an ache that carries right down to your toes.

You try to disentangle yourself from him as smoothly as possible. You want to run and hide from this conversation, the very conversation you've been rehearsing over and over in your head for months.

Being in love with your best friend isn't for the faint of heart.

Fred clings when you attempt to slide out of his grip, tugging you right back into his side. Heat rises to your cheeks so fast you feel faint.

Honestly, you might pass out right now.

Lee's already distracted, animatedly discussing the next upcoming prank with almost concerning fervour. Fred absentmindedly fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt as he listens.

Godric, you're burning up.

You can feel George's eyes on you. You know what he wants to say – can picture it right down to the pitying look in his eyes. He's always been the more observant twin.

You don't want to hear it.

Fred won't let go no matter how much you fidget. You pick at your nails until red pools at the edges of your cuticles. The sting prickles at your eyes.

"Hey." Fred's attention snaps to you suddenly. "What's the matter, lovie? You feeling alright?"

Fucking hell. He must be doing it on purpose, surely. Your throat burns.

"Nothing," you croak. "I'm okay."

It's just convincing enough for him to leave it, though you're half sure you'll be questioned later.

He smears a kiss to the crown of your head before he stands and it almost finishes you off.

That boy is going to be the death of you.

[retrobutterflies]

Love a group masterlist ◡̈

THEODORE NOTT

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all theodore nott stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) <3

MASTERLIST • SLYTHERIN BOYS • THE MARAUDERS • 07/24/24

@angelfic ✰ the way i loved you in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him

@obsessedwithceleste ✰ lessons in love Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession. ✰ all’s fair in love and quidditch All’s fair in love and quidditch. At least until Matteo’s poorly aimed bludger knocks you off of your broom. ✰ theodore nott and the fortress of trust issues Theodore Nott had never been able to cast a patronus. In third year, when dementors were swarming the castle, of course he tried, but was never able to manage more than a whisp of soft silver. Come seventh year, he was painfully unsurprised when his efforts were once again lack luster. Turns out, with the right tutor, casting the formidable charm might not be as impossible as he thought.

✰ til it’s gone It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. ✰ mother brother knows best In which Theodore is no match for the sheer determination of a twelve year old fueled by sugar, pumpkin juice, and spite. ✰ fighting fate soulmate!au in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Bold of fate to assume it can tell you what to do.

@ahqkas ✰ jealously an unexpected situation catches you off guard in the heart of florence and your boyfriend reveals a side of him you’ve never seen before ✰ practice makes it better struggling with the local slang, you feel out of place until you meet theodore nott, the silent slytherin ✰ dealer smoking had never interested you before but when the local dealer catches your eye, you might get the experience of a professional

deactivated account ✰ the odds of affection where theodore is grumpy and quiet and when the slytherin’s take note of how he always gives reader forehead kisses, they’re rather shocked.

@luv4freddie ✰ fools in which the only Hufflepuff friend in the group of slytherins develops a crush on Theodore Nott— something only fools do.

@theostrophywife ✰ shut up kiss me ✰ written in the stars

@caramelcal ✰ lovebites and potions

@kaciebello ✰ not even the addressee When Theodore's name gets misspelled he's not happy about it.

@frost-queen ✰ the sirens task

@spectorgram ✰ the letter you get a letter from a secret admirer who wants to confess. your best friend is none too pleased. ✰ eyes wide open you discover that there is so much more to theodore nott than you thought. 

@amourane ✰ flustered and blushing in which you're a flustered mess around theo nott and he absolutely adores it. ✰ why can’t we love freely you're tired of being a secret and it was time to let theo know. ✰ so this is love there's a weird feeling that erupts in theo's chest whenever he looks at you and for the first time in his life his mind goes silent. ✰ down the rabbit hole in which it's blatantly obvious that theodore nott has fallen down the rabbit hole of love.

@retrobutterflies ✰ little dragon You are not a fan of one of his admirers and he thinks you are a pretty idiot.

@dreamcubed ✰ i think he knows you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move ✰ you need to calm down after returning to hogwarts for a subsidiary 8th year to make up for the loss of 7th year due to the war, you are a completely different person, and muggle-born-hating theo finds himself obsessed with you

@mrsmikaelsxn ✰ tired you were theo's childhood best friend and he waits for a time when you will love him back

@distantdarlings ✰ try that again Pansy finds out that a group of Gryffindor girls has had a lot to say about you and your relationship with Theodore Nott. They think you won’t do anything about it, but you prove them wrong. ✰ house pride Theo is pissed that you seem to be interested in other guys. The two of you are not officially dating so you find it ridiculous that you can't talk to whomever you want. You have feelings for Theo, though, and think it might be interesting to put his jealousy to the test. ✰ by the fireplace You have been an Animagus for around a year now. You have quite a knack for learning everything you need to know about it quickly and Professor McGonagall really likes you. However, a fellow classmate, Theodore Nott, does not like you. And you couldn't care less. Both of you are in for a surprise when you accidentally meet in the library.

@darkmagic-s ✰ one star rating of dirty talking Sexting through note passing, one of Theodore's favourite ways to bother you.

@lexamiele ✰ you understand Hogwarts students aren't exactly known for minding their own business. Thankfully, you and Theo speak a language they don't.

@cassiopeiasdaughter ✰ august Theo asks you to be his fake-girlfriend but you understand the assignment a little too well. ✰ gold rush loving Theo in secret was not something you had ever planned ✰ invisible string you get married in the middle of the night during the war

@battinscn ✰ i could never not love you theodore nott is a self sabotaging selfish bastard. he jumps to conclusions too quickly and is too hot headed for his own good. you never thought you would ever be one to experience it first hand. yet, despite it all, you could never find it in you to truly hate him. ✰ i hate you tate has a very special lucky broom he relies on for every match. when you accidentally step on it, he loses his temper. ✰ trust me theodore’s always had a hard time trusting other. but you would think being his girlfriend that he would have some faith in you. turns out you were terrible wrong and one day, you had finally reached your limit. ✰ missing you theodore’s job takes him away from you a lot and hi here understanding for the most part. but after countless broken promises, you had enough.

@yoursecrett ✰ his hufflepuff You were known as the sweetest Hufflepuff at Hogwarts, from tutoring students to being Madam Pomfrey's helper, you were constantly busy you liked it that way... Theodore Nott - The Slytherin Prefect, you had caught his attention, and everyone knows Theodore Nott never gives up on something or someone he wants.

@0luv9 ✰ sugar rose Fool in love, bright like silver, shinning for everyone to see. Life has never been this good for Theo and he'll go out of his way to keep it that way. Or Theodore being utterly and unapologetically in love with you.

@weasleyreidstyles ✰ between the shelves

@magiclostinfantasy ✰ blind date Y/N and Theo's friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they've secretly been dating.

@wordsarelife ✰ karma karma is the way you wear his jersey, making sure his team will lose the game

@gemissleeping ✰ moonlight and masks Newly turned Death Eater Theodore Nott is tasked with hunting down Harry Potter and the Order Operative protecting him. Only to discover the person he hunts happens to be the one he loves.

@aemondsi ✰ anything for you in a universe where voldemort won, you and theo risk everything.

@writingsbychlo ✰ nonsense you got that holiday glee from your true love.

@sunshinelollipopsicle ✰ secret notes theodore and you begin leaving notes for each other, you knowing it's him but him unaware it's you, and eventually, you agree to meet in person

@thestarsarebrightertonight ✰ dreaming of saturn theodore nott seems so out of reach to most people yet you have him right in your arms ✰ cinnamon girl everyone knows you have a crush on theo , even he knows! so when you randomly start avoiding him one day , theodore cant help but go crazy.

@crimsntwlip ✰ seeker

@puffleyia ✰ clandestine Mattheo can not seem to place his finger on what exactly you have been keeping from him. He confides in his best friend, Theo, though he ends up cutting the conversation short due to some urgent matters. (aka, you)

@vintagebishx ✰ for the first time in which, the usual womaniser finds himself in love with a girl who doesn’t even know his name…

@papercorgiworld ✰ no smoke, only love in the air When the guys notice that you don’t like their smoking habit they quit, but dealing with the withdrawal has your boyfriend constantly needy for a kiss.  ✰ pansys interrogation Weird behaviour and rumours have Pansy asking questions and figuring out who the guys are crushing on. ✰ theo The things Theodore Nott does for love.

@rainyreading ✰ babysitting

deactivated account ✰ the only heaven i’ll be sent to (is when i’m alone with you) Best friends get dared to play seven minutes in heaven but they just sit and talk the whole time and somehow manage to admit their feelings for each other ✰ our secrets are buried where they go on a double date with separate dates but they spend the whole time flirting with each other

[retrobutterflies]

So cute, a little Italian sweet treat. I love their shy connection and his poetic words 🤍

Romance Languages

Middle image from mewwons on Pinterest here, others mine

Theodore Nott x Reader

Word count: approx. 4.5k

Summary: You and Theodore Nott have a little weekly ritual that you’ve always enjoyed. There’s definitely not any meaning to it, no matter what Pansy Parkinson says.

Warnings/be aware: she/her reader, Ravenclaw reader, Italian!Theo, google translate Italian, use of Y/N, slight time skip, fluff fluff fluffiest fluff

A/N: This is so cheesy and fun, I had an amazing time writing it.

There are some places where I didn't translate the Italian for the sake of not spoiling the story, but all will be clear in good time :)

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There was a sort of rhythm to your Fridays at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that you’d become quite fond of as a sixth-year.

            First, you had Transfiguration, one of the most difficult classes on your schedule (rivaled only by Ancient Runes), but also one of the most rewarding. Then you had Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid, another course you enjoyed. You loved being able to get outside during the day and interact with the creatures of the forest while learning more about them. After lunch was your final class of the day and your absolute favorite, double Charms. Professor Flitwick was your Head of House and one of the kindest people you knew. The two of you had bonded during your first year when you’d been bullied by some third-years and he’d been a mentor to you ever since. You'd also grown to become a strong student of the subject itself. At the end of the previous year, you’d scored an O on your Charms OWL and when you’d returned to the class for your NEWT level, he’d quietly let you know that you’d earned one of the highest scores in your year. The Charms classroom was your comfort zone, your favorite place to retreat to after a long day.

            You also enjoyed your last class of the day because many of your friends had decided to take NEWT Charms as well. Each day, you sat next to your best friend, Padma Patil, and in front of two Slytherin girls who were quickly growing on you, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass. Though the Slytherins usually kept to themselves, you and Pansy had bonded after being named Potions partners the previous year and remained friends, sharing notes for your classes and the occasional tidbits about Hogwarts romances and parties. Pansy's approval had been enough to persuade Daphne of your likeability, and you'd made another friend.

            After greeting Professor Flitwick and setting your books down near Padma, Pansy, and Daphne, you came to the next part of your Friday routine. Theo Nott, a dark-haired popular boy with an angular face and mischievous eyes, approached your desk as usual. He was the dream guy of half the Hogwarts population, and you could see why. Though you’d never admit it, his attention definitely made you a little flustered.

            “Buon pomeriggio, belissima.” He wore a confident little smirk as you giggled, your afternoon ritual familiar.

            “Hi, Theo.” You smiled at him and he winked before returning to his seat near the back of the classroom with the other boys from Slytherin. Before every Charms class since the end of the previous year, Theo Nott had greeted you by saying something random in Italian. You had no clue what any of it meant or how it had started, but you weren’t complaining. The first time you’d encountered Theo outside of sharing classes with the Slytherins was when you and Pansy had started hanging out together. The two of you had a few conversations about Quidditch and music, and you were able to detect his southern European accent, but you’d never known that he could speak Italian until one random day in fifth-year Charms when he’d approached you before class.

            “Vorresti venire a cena con me?” Theo murmured. His eyes were oddly soft – he looked more gentle than you’d ever seen him.

            You laughed. “What the heck does that mean?” His subtle expression quickly became a smirk, his eyes sparkling.

            “That’s for me to know, and you to, well…” He strode back over to the other side of the classroom, as elusive as ever.

            It became a pattern between the two of you, him greeting you with some random phrase in a language you didn’t understand and you laughing it off, saying hello to him in English. You’d wondered if he would stop after the end of your fifth year, but when he’d spotted you in NEWT Charms, he’d immediately resumed the ritual. You were glad, and not just because he was paying attention to you. It felt like you could see another side of him when he spoke his first language, like he was letting you in on a different part of himself.

             As you sat down after your brief conversation with Theo, Padma raised her eyebrows at you playfully.

            “Oh, hush.” You laughed, shoving her playfully as you rolled her eyes. You knew what she was going to say before she said it.

            “You’ve got to jump on that, are you kidding?” She shook her head, her thick ebony ponytail swishing back and forth behind her. “He’s so hot and you have an opening!”

     ��      “I do not ‘have an opening,’ Padma.” You grinned exasperatedly. “Besides, you need to be quiet. You’ll only inflate his ego if he hears you.”

            “If only I had your self-restraint. If Theo Nott talked to me…”

            “If he came up to you and said a bunch of random words to you in a language you don’t understand, I’m sure you’d be just as confused as I am.”

            “What does it matter what language he’s speaking?” She threw her hands up in the air dramatically. “He’s attractive in all of them.” You sighed, laughing softly to yourself. As much as you loved Padma, she had no idea what she was talking about. Theo could have any girl he wanted, you definitely weren’t going to ‘have an opening’ with him anytime soon.

            Professor Flitwick began the lesson and you attentively followed his demonstration as he walked the class through drills of the Extinguishing Spell. You soon mastered the technique and Flitwick instructed you to walk around the classroom and help others as they sought to extinguish the fire that he’d conjured. As you finished correcting Dean Thomas’s aim, you glanced around the room and saw that Hermione had also been employed to help, along with Theo. Your eyes locked with his as he turned in your direction and you felt your face flush as you looked away quickly.

            “Impressive, bella.” He raised his eyebrows as his path crossed yours. You rolled your eyes playfully at his need to throw in a little Italian for good measure.

            “Thanks,” you replied politely. You smiled at him, though you found yourself unable to meet his eyes. Internally shaking your head at your own easily flustered nature, you walked away quickly.

            After Megan Jones’s spell backfired and her flame got a bit out of hand, Professor Flitwick brought the drills to an end and began the second half of class, a lecture on nonverbal spells theory. You and Padma split a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans as the two of you took notes. The lecture was fascinating and you scarcely noticed time passing until you ran out of Every Flavor Beans. It wasn’t long before Flitwick called the class to a close and you packed up your things. As you and Padma left the classroom, the two of you fell into conversation with Pansy and Daphne, discussing the all-too public snog that Daphne had witnessed between Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown in the Astronomy corridor the evening before.

            “I didn’t even know they were seeing each other!” Padma remarked in surprise. “I feel sorry for her, honestly. Weasley’s a bore.”

            “Well, there were a lot of words for what they were doing, but ‘boring’ certainly wasn’t one of them,” Daphne drawled, grimacing. “It was so – “

            “Ciao, bella ragazza,” a deep voice interrupted. You turned to see Theo smirking at you and throwing you a nod as he walked past, keeping pace with Mattheo Riddle and Blaise Zabini next to him.

            “Bye, Theo.” You shook your head, grinning slightly as you waved to him. Turning back to the girls, you chuckled softly to yourself. “He’s ridiculous.”

            “Haven’t you ever wondered what he’s saying?” Pansy asked suddenly. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

            “I guess. I don’t know, he’s just saying random stuff, right?” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m not sure I could figure it out if I tried. ‘Ciao’ is literally the only word I know, and Hogwarts doesn’t exactly keep a strong collection of Italian-to-English dictionaries.”

            “But Tomes and Scrolls has a languages collection,” Pansy countered. Daphne suddenly glanced at her, shooting her a look that you couldn’t decipher, and Pansy shook her head. “Tomorrow’s a Hogsmeade trip. You should take a look.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

            “Okay, I guess I will.” You wondered why she was so insistent about it – she’d never indicated that Theo’s assorted ramblings might be of importance before. But with your curiosity sparked, you resolved to stop by Tomes and Scrolls the next day.

            The next week, with a few books on Italian language safely tucked inside your trunk in Ravenclaw Tower, you listened carefully to the words coming from Theo’s mouth as Charms class began.

            “Tutti gli oceani del mondo non potrebbero rivaleggiare con la tua bellezza.” He shot you the same confident look as usual and you smiled back, repeating the phrase to yourself in your mind.

            “Good to see you too, Theo.” As soon as he returned to the back of the classroom, you hastily wrote everything you could remember in the margins of your parchment to reference later. Then you did your best to put it all out of your mind so that you could focus on the Charms lesson. Though you were sure that whatever the sentence meant would disappoint Pansy’s curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel a slightly intrigued as well.

            “Did you manage to get it down?” Padma hissed, glancing at your parchment as you labeled it for note-taking. You nodded.

            “Don’t get your hopes up, though.” You leaned over to whisper in your best friend’s ear. “It’s probably nothing interesting.” You paused, studying the foreign words. “If it turns out he’s been insulting me all this time, I’m gonna flip.”

            After Charms concluded, you returned to your dormitory and retrieved your new purchases from Tomes and Scrolls. Locating a particularly secluded section of the Ravenclaw common room, you sat down and began to flip through the books until you found a section with direct word translations. Painstakingly, you started with the first word and began to hunt for its meaning.

            “Tutti gli oceani del mondo – all the oceans of the world.” Your whispers to yourself cut through the silence as you studied the words. Why on Earth was Theo talking about oceans? Maybe the books were wrong. Nonetheless, you continued, trying to trust the process.

“Tutti gli oceani del mondo non potrebbero rivaleggiare con – all the oceans of the world could not rival.” What? You must’ve written something down wrong, you figured, because the words still didn’t make any sense together. Either that or you’d been right all along and Theo had just been talking nonsense for the heck of it. Maybe he thought it was funny. Out of curiosity, you searched for the last three words you’d written down.

La tua – together, they meant something like “your,” but didn’t help make the sentence any more coherent. What could oceans not rival you in? Doing magic? Eating popcorn? Rolling your eyes, you searched for the next word.

Bellezza – beauty. Huh.

“All the oceans of the world could not rival your beauty.” You stared at the sentence that had appeared on your parchment with wide eyes. It wasn’t an insult – far from it. It was actually one of the most lovely and poetic compliments you’d ever received, and you couldn’t help but let the sound of his voice echo in your head as he said them. Your lips parted in silent surprise.

            Your mind raced. Was this right? Were you even reading correctly? Was this some kind of joke or did he really mean…but how could he? He was one of the most handsome, popular guys in your year, there was no way he wouldn’t just ask you out if he really thought those things. Rejection wasn't exactly something he needed to worry about.

            Closing the book in front of you, you realized that there was only one person who could answer all your questions. As you stood, you took your piece of parchment in your hand and resolved to go find Pansy.

            Thankfully, locating Pansy didn’t require much searching. You found her sitting in the library, leaned back and filing her nails while Daphne studied across from her and Draco mumbled about something or other, his lip curled in distaste. She turned slowly at the sound of your approach, but the moment she saw your expression she sat up, interrupting Draco with haste.

            “Get, Malfoy.” She waved her hand in a shooing motion. Though Draco frowned, glancing at the two of you in confusion, he gathered up his books and stepped away from the table.

            “He didn’t have to leave.” You guiltily watched Draco sit down at another table by himself.

            “He did if we’re going to talk about what I think we’re going to talk about,” Pansy declared. “Can’t keep a secret to save his life.” She focused in on you, her expression intense. “Did you do your research?”

            “Did you know what he was saying all this time?”

            “I had my suspicions.” She paused as you pulled out a chair and sat down in Draco’s former spot. “What was this one, exactly?” Your cheeks turned pink as you handed her the parchment and her eyebrows shot up. Her curiosity piqued, Daphne sat down her quill and leaned over to look also.

            “Wow, Nott’s got more game than I thought,” Daphne said with a grin. She looked you up and down playfully. “You’re a lucky girl.”

            “But there’s no way he actually means that, right?” Both Pansy and Daphne met you with skeptical glances. “I mean, if he felt that way why wouldn’t he just ask me out?” Pansy laughed under her breath, shaking her head slightly before leaning towards you over the table.

            “Look.” Her focused expression held your attention. “What you have to understand is that Nott being popular is basically an accidental byproduct of him being really good at Quidditch and really hot. Objectively, of course. That’s not my arena.” She cleared her throat and you laughed softly. “He’s learned how to talk the talk when he wants to look cool – mostly thanks to Riddle’s terrible influence – but he’s actually kind of quiet. Reads a lot. He doesn’t really know how to put himself out there, and with the way that girls throw themselves at him, he’s never really had to.  That is, until...” She nodded in your direction.

            “Theo…Theo likes me?”

            “He hasn’t told me anything, but the way he looks at you?” She let out a breathy little chuckle, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair. “He’s down bad.” Your whole face turned warm.

            “Pans!” Daphne gave her friend a light smack on the arm. “And you call Draco a blabbermouth.”

            “What? If I don’t get this ball rolling, no one will. He was hitting on her in a language she doesn’t even understand!”

            “What should I do, though?” you interrupted. “I mean, I can’t just pretend that I still have no clue what he’s getting at.”

            "Then don't." Pansy looked you up and down frankly. "You've got all those language books now. Use your resources."

            You arrived to Charms the next Friday with a nervous flutter in your stomach, repeating unfamiliar words in your head. As you entered the classroom, you glanced around, nearly forgetting to wave to Professor Flitwick before you sat down. Theo hadn’t arrived yet, and neither had Daphne or Pansy. However, Padma was waiting for you, eyeing you excitedly. You’d filled her in on your discoveries after talking to Pansy, and she was thrilled (if not a little smug that she had, in fact, told you so).

            “Hello, gorgeous!” Your best friend greeted you, beaming as she pulled her knee up to her chest. “See, I’m doing my best Nott impression.” You shook your head lovingly.

            “Hi, Padma. I do believe you’d have to learn Italian to accomplish that effect.” You sat down, letting your bag fall to your side with a loud smack. “Merlin, Transfiguration was difficult today.”

            “Glad I dropped it!” she replied cheerfully. “Divination was cake.”

            “That’s because all you lot do in that class is stare into crystal balls and spout nonsense.”

            “That’s all Transfiguration is too!” Padma protested. “Except you actually have to remember the nonsense, and occasionally the nonsense comes back into play when you have to turn a porcupine into a pincushion.”

            “Well that’s – “ You were about to launch into your defense of Transfiguration when a deep voice interrupted you.

            “È una bellissima giornata ora che sei qui, dolcezza.” Theo Nott stepped into your field of vision, a textbook in hand, grinning down at you. Once again, you had no idea what he was saying, but you were prepared this time. Well, here goes nothing.

            “Puoi semplicemente flirtare con me in inglese, lo sai.” You smirked back at him, trying to give off an air of confidence even though you weren’t entirely sure that the words coming out of your mouth were correct. (You can flirt with me in English, you know)

            The book in his hands hit the floor with a resounding smack.

            He stared at you for what felt like an eternity. A wave of nerves began to overtake you – what if your translation was wrong? Had you accidentally said something embarrassing? Was Pansy completely wrong about the way that he felt about you? As you looked back at him, you saw that his cheeks were completely flushed. He swallowed hard, then hurried away to the back of the classroom.

            “Well, that could’ve gone better,” you whispered indirectly at Padma. You turned in hopes of having an emergency conference with Pansy and Daphne, but Professor Flitwick quickly interrupted you as he cleared his throat, signaling the start of class.

            “Good afternoon, everyone, today we’ll be continuing on with nonverbal spells theory, then spending the end of class on review.” He stepped forward and the stray book at the front of the room caught his eye. With a frown, he waved his wand and sent it flying toward its owner. You turned around reflexively and saw Theo staring in your direction as he placed his book back on his desk, still looking shaken. Hastily, you whipped back around. “Do try to keep your textbook at your own seat, Mr. Nott.” You heard a few students laugh as you withdrew your parchment and your quill from your bag.

            That day might’ve been the only day you’d ever been eager for a Charms class to end. With your thoughts an endless swirl in your mind and your stomach turning with anxiety, you could hardly concentrate on the lesson. You felt guilty, as though you were betraying your favorite professor, when you realized that you’d been utterly distracted for nearly fifteen minutes and completely lost track of the lecture. Resolving to take detailed notes to keep yourself attentive, you began to write determinedly. But even the words written by your own hand began to make little sense to you as worry consumed your focus.

            “Miss Y/L/N, can you remind us of the effect produced by the Reductor Curse?”

            You snapped back to reality at the sound of Professor Flitwick calling on you. “Um, pardon?” He frowned.

            “The Reductor Curse, Miss Y/L/N.”

            “Oh, Reducto.”

            “Right,” Professor Flitwick said slowly. “That is the incantation, but what is the effect?”

            “Oh, um, destroys solid objects.”

            “That’s correct.” He gave you one last troubled look before turning to the other side of the classroom. “And who can tell me, what is the color of the spell?” You raised your hand, hoping to assure him of your attentiveness, but he didn’t even look in your direction as he called on Lorenzo Berkshire instead.

            Finally, class concluded. You were ready to hurry out the door with the hopes of catching Theo – you needed to apologize for whatever you’d done. However, as you packed your things, you lifted your head to see Professor Flitwick standing before you.

            “Miss Y/L/N, could I speak to you for a moment?” Your stomach dropped.

            “Of course, Professor,” you replied quickly, following him to a quiet corner of the classroom as your friends left.

            “I couldn’t help but notice that you were a bit distracted in class today.” His voice was gentle and respectful, but that made you feel even guiltier to have let him down.

            “Yes, Professor. I’m so sorry, it won’t happen again.”

            “I know that it won’t, Miss Y/L/N, I know you.” He nodded solemnly. “I did not ask you to stay after class so that I could scold you. As your Head of House, I simply want to make sure that you are alright. I know that you faced some challenges in your earlier days at Hogwarts.”

            “I’m okay.” You let out a heavy breath.

            “Are you sure, Miss Y/L/N? No one trying to make your life difficult?” You shook your head.

            “No, nothing like that. Just…something didn’t go the way I planned, that’s all.”

            “Ah.” His eyes grew distant. “Yes, the best-laid plans of mice and men do often go awry, as the Muggles say. Oddly, I've found that some of my most errant plans have had the best outcomes." The warm smile on his face brought you a slight reassurance. "Do let me know if you need someone to speak with.”

            “Of course,” you affirmed with a polite smile. “Thank you, Professor.”

            “You’re very welcome. Now, best get going. I do believe that you have a friend waiting for you.” He gestured toward the back of the classroom and you turned to see Theo standing in the doorway. You froze, your heart dropping in your chest.

            “Um, right.” Smoothing your uniform skirt, you quickly attempted to regain your composure. “Great talking to you.”

            “And you as well. Have a lovely evening.”

            “You too!”

            Your heart thundered as you scooped up your school bag and walked towards the door – and Theo.

            “Um, hi.” You bit your lip worriedly as you looked up at him. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

            “Of course, bella.” He froze, seeming to catch himself in the habit. “I…did not realize that you were familiar with the Italian language.”

            You shook your head hesitantly. “Actually, that one sentence is really all I’ve got.” You saw him relax slightly. He stepped away from the doorway and you followed him out of the classroom.

            “Where’d you learn that?” His grey eyes flashed with intrigue as he looked down at you.

            “Oh, that? That was the power of Pansy Parkinson and an English-to-Italian dictionary.”

            Theo grimaced. “Parkinson! I’m going to…” He trailed off, letting out a sigh. “Meddler.”

            “I meant what I said earlier,” you began softly. “Or at least what I thought I said, anyway. You can flirt with me in English.” You glanced up at him hesitantly. “I don’t mind.”

            “English is not a very romantic language.” You blushed as he gave you a playful grin. “I apologize if I frightened you, bella.” His voice grew sincere. “It was not my best moment.”

            “I was going to say the same thing,” you admitted. “I’m sorry if I scared you, or if it was all too sudden, or – “ He interrupted you, shaking his head adamantly.

            “No, dolcezza.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “It was time. I should have…I should have told you long ago.”

            “Told me what?” Your eyes connected with his, stopping him in his tracks.

            “Well, if you know now, what I’ve been saying – surely you must have figured, the way I feel about you.” You froze, surprised at his candid admission.

“Well, to be honest, I still don’t understand most of it.” Theo let out a little laugh. “But the parts I figured out…Theo, that’s some of the sweetest stuff anyone has ever said to me.” You gave him a little smile and your stomach fluttered when you realized that his cheeks were turning pink. It was adorable. “Why wouldn’t you want me to know?”

“It’s so embarrassing.” He chuckled bashfully, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the ground.

            “Hey, my attempts at mastering the Italian language were pretty embarrassing.”

            “You did well, bella.” His voice was so strained that you nearly laughed out loud. You raised your eyebrows skeptically. “Okay, so that is not how you say the words. At all.” You burst into laughter and he did the same, in spite of himself. He had a beautiful laugh, deep and clear and joyful, and when it was gone you longed for more.

            “It’s okay,” you said with a giggle. “You can tell me it was bad.”

            “It was…well, it was very cute.” He looked down at you with hesitant eyes and you blushed, grinning softly. “Even though you are not so good yet.”

            “Well, maybe I’ll learn better if you tell me more about what you’ve been saying all this time.” You smiled back, nervousness fluttering in your chest.

            He let out a sigh, leaning his head back in resignation before looking back at you. “I suppose so.” He ran a hand through his hair again and you observed with amusement how his curls immediately flopped back in his face. “Well…you see, Mattheo and Blaise, they have a very unfortunate sense of humor. Last year, they decided it would be really funny to…to dare me to ask you out.”

            You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. “So – this was a dare?”

            Theo’s eyes widened. “No! I mean, yes,” he corrected, “But they dared me because…well, they could see how I felt about you. That you made me nervous. They thought it was really funny.” Your stomach flipped as your eyes met his. “I thought for a few days that I would just do it, but then I saw you, and – “ He shook his head. “So I asked you out in Italian.”

            “So that’s what you said the first time?” He nodded sheepishly. “Theo, that’s really sweet.” His eyes brightened and you realized just how close he was to you as your words got caught in your throat. “Theo?”

            “Hmm?”

            “You could always…ask me again.” You looked at him hopefully and his face split into an adorable grin as he took your hands in his. “I’m sure it would help with the language acquisition skills, after all,” you teased. He chuckled.

            “Merlin knows you need it.” Your mouth fell open in mock surprise and you shook your head playfully.

            “So rude.”

            His eyes softened as he watched you, and your heart thundered inside your chest as he ran his thumb over your knuckles, making your skin tingle as his grey gaze held you captive.

            “Vorresti venire a cena con me?” The smooth sound of his voice washed over you as you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. (Will you go out to dinner with me?)

            “Si.”

[retrobutterflies]

Navigation // retrobutterflies

Welcome to my page :) I write when the wind tells me to (inconsistently and erratically).

Please see my masterlists here:

Stranger Things Masterlist

Theodore Nott Masterlist

If you have thoughts, questions, writing suggestions, or gossip please let me know.

[retrobutterflies]

TN Masterlist // retrobutterflies

Theo Nott

Little Dragon . f . 2.7k

You are not a fan of one of his admirers and he thinks you are a pretty idiot.

Hopefully I will add more :)

[retrobutterflies]

Little Dragon | t.n.

Theodore Nott x Female!Reader

Summary: You are not a fan of one of his admirers and he thinks you are a pretty idiot.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Jealousy, Fluff, mentions of snow lol, a hint suggestive at the end if you squint

A/N: I haven't written in a while. This is just a fun little thing, an hors d'œuvre if you will.

Abigail was nothing if not brazen. It had taken you years to be comfortable in the presence of Slytherin's most exclusive group. For a while you didn't even realize Pansy Parkinson had considered you anything more than a suitemate let alone a friend until she hexed Lacy Cressilda for calling you bitch. And Draco Malfoy barely dignified you with anything more than a smirk until one night he was trashed out of his mind and proclaimed that he would help you hide a body should you ever need. You assured him you wouldn't.

It was only by 6th year did you feel fully welcomed into the friend group. Now instead of getting wary glances when you sat with them at dinner, you were getting indignant glances when you joined other friends of yours for a change of pace.

But seeing Abigail seat herself comfortably between Draco and Theo, smiling easily and joining into the conversation seamlessly made you falter. Abigail Thorn had never really interacted with your friends. Though she was a sixth year Slytherin, her group of friends never really crossed paths with yours. At least, not until last term when Abigail started sitting closer by in the great hall, tugging along unwilling friends, or switching seats with annoyed Hufflepuffs to sit next to one of you in Potions. And now, relaxing in the common room when mostly everyone else had slinked up to bed, she had found her way into the conversation, her friends long since retired. 

You watched her from your seat on the opposing couch. The fireplace was dousing the room in a dancing orange glow, illuminating smiling faces and slouched forms. Someone had tossed a cinnamon stick directly onto the firewood so the room smelled of autumn spices and smoke. Mattheo made a crude joke from his spot laying on the green-woven rug on the floor in front of the hearth and Abigail let out a laugh, leaned forward, and rested her hand on Theo's knee.

A swirling green monster crawled up your throat and wrapped its tendrils around your neck. Your eyes zeroed in on her hand, fingers flexing on the dark material of his pants, and imagined shooting out a nasty stinging hex. You glanced up to see Theo's dark eyes swoop down to the hand on his leg. He eye'ed it, eye'ed her, then slowly, delicately in the soft-quiet way he does most things, moved her hand back to her lap. You wanted to feel pleased at that action, pleased that he didn't want her touching him but she moved again, her lips moving around words you weren't paying attention to as your eyes stared at her hand creeping through his arm to lock it with hers. And then with a smile, she rested her cheek on the curve of his shoulder.

You felt like you were on fire. Heat flared up your spine, flushing your cheeks and the back of your neck. The forest-green turtle neck you were wearing was suddenly choking you and you felt like if you didn't get up in that very moment then you would self-destruct.

"I'm going to the bathroom," you muttered softly to Pansy who gave you a nod while keeping her attention on one of Mattheo's long-winded stories.

You headed straight for the common room door. It was after curfew but you didn't care if one of the prefects saw you walking around. You just needed fresh air. You needed to freeze out all the raging fire in your lungs, squash it into a piteous puff of smoke. You shot out of the nearest door and found yourself in one of the stone courtyards. The ground was blanketed in a sweep of fresh snow clear and untouched. A few stray snowflakes fluttered in the air, glittering in the firelight of scattered torches, replacing the lack of stars in the dark milky sky. You took a deep breath and welcomed the icy air that cut through your chest. It sizzled your anger until only a pile of ashy shame was left.

Theodore Nott was no one to you but a friend. You had no possessive claim to him like your body seemed to think. He could touch whoever he wanted, be touched by whoever he wanted. And you had no right to get so upset at the thought. But you were. You hated even the briefest moment seeing him with another girl. If the thought of him linking arms with a girl was enough to make you want to hex her you could only imagine the nightmare you'd be when he actually got a girlfriend.

You felt like you could be sick. You took another deep breath and then another. Closing your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest as if to shut out all of your buzzing thoughts. A swirl of wind sent a dusting of snow across your stocking-clad legs, your skirt giving you little protection but you welcomed it, hoped it would help distract you so that when you found the courage to go back inside you were less of a raging psychopath.

"Are you alright?"

His voice cut through the still of the night and sent a shock down your back. Your eyes shot open and you turned to see Theo slowly walking up to you, hands in his pockets, shiny leather shoes crunching on compact snow.

"Yeah. Fine. Just–" you breathed out slightly, hot air puffing into the cold night, arms tightening across your sternum, "hot."

His eyes were dark and gleaming under the night sky. You couldn't help but squirm whenever they stayed on you for too long as if your body physically couldn't handle their intensity. They trailed down your crossed arms, over your fluttering green-plaid skirt, and down your legs, goosebumps barely concealed through the sheer tights. Then his eyes, dark and deep and heavy, found yours again.

"You look cold," he concluded.

"I'm– Well, now . . . yes," you stumbled on your words and hoped that he thought the pink creeping across your cheeks was because of the frigid air and not your scrambled nerves, "but it's . . . good."

You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"It's good?" He echoed, eyebrows raising and smirk pulling up the corners of his lips. "You're shaking."

You didn't notice until he said it but you did feel a tremble in your body.

"I like it," you replied. Half true, half lie. You liked it enough to distract you but your legs were starting to feel numb and your teeth were starting to thrum together in a quiet symphony.

"You like it," he echoed again and you knew he could smell your fibs like food. Theo was a bloodhound for lies.

"I just–," your eyes flickered to his and then back to the courtyard when you couldn't hold his stare any longer, "–needed some air."

You heard him step closer, snow crunching underneath his footsteps. He was quiet for a few moments, looking out at the empty courtyard with you, watching the snow flurries and taking in the icy air.

"You're angry," he stated, breaking up the quiet. His voice was soft and low but it sent a shockwave down your spine.

"I'm not," you deflected before you could think. You could feel his gaze fall to the side of your face but knew if you met those keen eyes your facade would crack and splinter.

"You are," he assured. You wanted to argue, spit back a retort and stroke the burning anger that apparently you weren't hiding well enough.

"And how would you know that?" You replied, words as tight as the arms crossed over your chest.

"Because you're brooding," he said and you felt yourself bristle. This time your eyes met his and you frowned, narrowing them at his crinkling in the corners as his smile tugged up.

"I'm not," you tried to think of something to defend yourself, or something clever so his attention would be diverted, but all you could settle on was, "I do not brood."

"No?" He let out a hum, hand reaching into the depths of his pocket to pull out a beat-up pack of cigarettes. He slid one out, tapping it seemingly unconsciously against the side of the cardboard as he picked through the thoughts in his head. You watched as his thumb and pointer finger pinched the rim and ignited a small flame enough for it to start smoking. You'd seen him do it before but felt just as breathless seeing it again, Theo and his wand-less tricks.

His eyes flickered up to meet yours again and your heart felt like it was getting vacuumed into your stomach at their heaviness, at their weight. His eyes, dark and shining, enticing enough that they seemed to weave their own spells. You felt rooted to the spot, powerless to tear your gaze away. He brought the cigarette up to his lips, inhaling, holding the breath, then exhaling a swirling cloud of smoke into the night, his eyes keeping yours captive.

"If I look hard enough I might be able to see smoke coming out of your ears," he commented. His smirk grew at your flushed cheeks.

Finally, finally you were able to rip your eyes away, glaring at one of the weeping angel statues of the fountain nestled in the middle of the courtyard. You were silent, pushing through scrambled thoughts, trying to find a placating excuse. Enough so that he wouldn't make you admit how pathetic you were being.

"Come on, my little dragon. Tell me what's wrong and I'll make it better," he drawled, taking another inhale of his cigarette.

Your insides burned at the nick-name.

"Is–" You bit the inside of your cheek, debating, deciding, before relenting, eyes shutting tight as you forced the next few words out of your mouth, "Are you and Abigail close?"

He was quiet for a moment. You counted to ten, then ten again before daring to open your eyes and cast a wary look at him. All teasing amusement was gone.

"Abigail?" He finally said. He looked surprised, brows tugging in at the center of his face like he was trying to decipher a riddle. "I hardly know her."

The words stroked your blazing core, calming it slightly. You mulled them over in your mind but stabbing images of her arm in his, her hand on his knee had the inner flame in your chest roaring. Theo was watching you carefully, as if only now seeing your real ire.

"Right," you muttered, feeling guilt and jealously and anger and shame weave together in your gut.

"Did she," he took a careful step closer so you could smell the aroma of his cigarette intertwining with his cologne that hung on him like shadows. Dark and woodsy and spiced. "Did she say something to you?"

His tone was soft but you could hear the twinge of sharpness. The silent assurance that if she had he would be stalking off to her in retaliation. And though the thought of lying and releasing Theo's acid anger on her pleased you, you knew it wouldn't be fair. Realistically, she had been nothing but kind to you. If only she had been unpleasant. Then you'd at least feel less guilty turning Theo against her.

But you weren't that evil. At least not tonight.

"No," you admitted, keeping your hard glare facing the dark sky. He waited for you to continue, to give voice to the cacophony of thoughts he could see buzzing behind your stormy eyes. You debated waiting him out, testing his patience until he sighed and relented and decided he was going back inside. But if you were a master of the long game, Theo was the creator.

"She was just . . . being very friendly towards you. And I wasn't sure–I didn't know if you knew her like that–" you let out a frustrated huff, welcoming the icy sting of the winter air as you sucked in another breath, "I just think that if, maybe, you got a girlfriend or something you'd tell us or something or–" you huffed again, "Or you'd warn me–Us. I mean–" you cut yourself off.

"Girlfriend?" He seemed well and truly shocked now. He let out a chocked laugh, staring at you with wide eyes. "You think she's my girlfriend?"

You felt like a fool. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment and you wanted to launch yourself off the edge of the courtyard and swan dive into the depths of the Black Lake, never to be heard from again.

"She was all over you. She was laying on you–" you bristled again, invisible wings flaring. You met his gaze and glared at him but he only laughed again, a rich smooth laugh that had your nerves zapping your insides.

"You're jealous," he finally said, eyes bright and blazing as he regarded you.

"I'm–" you couldn't even bring yourself to deny it. You had said far too much. You should've stalked off to the bathroom like you had said. Then maybe you could've drowned yourself in the toilet instead of being here, facing up to this.

"You're an idiot." His words felt like a slap. You opened your mouth to respond with an equally cutting remark but he spoke first.

"Her? Really? You're daft. And blind," he took a step closer until the tip of his leather shoe nudged your own and you had to crane your neck up to glare at him, "And–"

"If you keep insulting me I'm going to hex you," you threatened.

He reached out a hand and cupped the back of your neck. His fingers pressed into the skin, circling and massaging the muscle until you felt yourself deflate.

"Aren't you supposed to be smart? How could you possibly think it would be her?" He was so close now that every breath smelled of him and his cologne.

"Theo," your voice turned pleading.

His hand moved slowly from your neck up to the back of your head, fingers weaving into the silky strands.

"This has to be a cruel game that you're playing," he murmured, face inching ever closer. His eyes were piercing yours and you felt helpless to move, helpless to even speak. "You have to know what I feel for you."

Your lungs felt like they had been filled with ice. Your mouth opened but no words came out. He was so close to you and his eyes were suffocating you and you felt like you might well and truly burn up from the inside out.

His free hand, cigarette lost to the frozen ground, curved around the plush of your cheek. His thumb swiped the velvet skin under your eye and you didn't think you were breathing anymore.

"I only want your skin to touch mine," he finally said. His voice was so low, so soft, it caressed your burning cheeks. Your hands, numb from the cold, found their way to his chest, clutching at the wool of his dark sweater. He hummed in satisfaction.

"Only you are allowed to touch me," he breathed, eyes skimming your face, darting between your eyes. "Understand?"

You nodded mutely and he hummed again. Then his lips were touching yours. Warm and velvet lips caressing your own frost kissed ones. He exhaled into the kiss, his breath tickling your face. Your hands clutched at him, tugging him ever closer as you sunk into the kiss. Your body melted, relaxing into him, a rush of relief soaking down your spine and extinguishing the flames that had been coiling up your back. His kisses turned deeper, more desperate. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip then his lips soothed the sting. The hand at your cheek pulled away and you were close to whining before he was wrapping it around your waist, hoisting you higher, closer, chests pressing together so he could deepen his kisses and steal the air from your burning lungs.

It was a while before he pulled away. He admired your flushed cheeks and starry eyes that blinked up at him. His fingers woven in your hair tightened, gripping. You couldn't ignore the flash of pleasure that erupted in your stomach.

"Next time you decide to have a tantrum, at least come get me first," he murmured, words rumbling through kiss-bitten lips. You would've glared if you could think straight. But your mind was hazy and your lips were tingling and all you could think about was kissing him again.

[retrobutterflies]

I was having a really off day yesterday and I spent hours going back through almost 2 YEARS of my liked posts to find Menace 😭 truly my favorite I’ve ever read ❤️

This is so so sweet 😭😭😭 I’m sorry you had a rough day I’m glad it made you feel better :(( I’m here if you ever need a buddy!!

[retrobutterflies]

Love love love :)

emma omg omg pushing strands of their hair out of their face with steeb pls and thank u ily forever 🫶🏼

kait!!! omg ilyt this is for u MWAH 🫶🏼

-

Your boyfriend is beautiful. His soft hazel eyes, his pretty nose, the most kissable lips, the cute little moles dotting his cheek. Everything about him is just gorgeous. It’s unfair, actually, just how pretty he is. You could stare at him all day long, if he’d let you, but no matter how confident he can be, he still gets shy under your gaze, so you have to be sneaky about it. But sometimes, you just can’t help yourself.

The best time of day — your favorite time of day — is when you wake up before him, warm yellow light spilling in through curtains, and he’s still fast asleep beside you, cheek pressed into his pillow. He always looks so peaceful, so innocent, with his lips parted, his soft, wavy hair falling into his face. He’s perfect.

Scooting in closer to Steve’s sleeping figure, you snuggle into his chest, leaving just enough room to still admire him. From the close angle, you can count each of his long lashes, trace the freckles and moles that dust across his cheeks. A lock of dark hair curls around his ear, another twisting down his neck, disappearing beneath the blanket, even more falling into his face. It’s been a while since he’s had a haircut, and it’s getting long and shaggy.

Fingers tracing down the length of his neck, you twist a soft wave around your pointer finger gently. It wasn’t your intention to wake him up, but he groans softly, nose scrunching up as his eyes flutter open after a moment. You grimace your apology, though he can hardly see with how slowly he’s blinking, eyes still heavy with sleep. Cupping his stubbly cheek in your soft hand, you murmur, “G’morning, Stevie. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Mm,” he manages to grunt in response, not angry or annoyed, just still half-asleep. His body curls towards yours, an arm searching for your waist as his nose pushes into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply, “mornin’.”

“Sleep well?” you ask softly, the hand not on his cheek rubbing a gentle line up the curve of his spine.

“Mhm, good,” he breathes out, lips pursing into a light kiss against your neck. “How ‘bout you, baby?”

“Me too,” you reply, moving in closer than you already are, a leg hitching up over his hip to press your torso to his. You’re both on his pillow now, huddled together on his side of the bed. All of your senses are filled with Steve. His smell, his warmth, his strong arm holding your waist, his heartbeat, his sleepy eyes meeting yours.

A lazy smile tugs at the corners of Steve’s lips as your eyes meet. It’s so soft, it nearly makes you melt into the bedsheets right then and there. Sometimes you’re not sure you deserve the softness. The love that Steve always looks at you with. The utter adoration for you that seeps from him, even in this half-awake state. Your hand slides up his back, tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck, running the soft strands between your fingers. You want him to know just how much you love him, too, but you’re not sure how to say it, not so early in the morning. You hope he can feel it.

It’s quiet for a few minutes as you lay with each other, all soft touches and gentle kisses, quiet whispers as the sun rises further into the sky, spilling bright light into your room. You sigh loudly after a while, knowing you need to get up, and Steve, finally more awake, pulls his face from your neck to really see you. He gives you one of his gorgeous, heart-stopping smiles, and nudges the tip of his nose against yours, “I’ll make ya coffee, honey.”

The long, wispy hair hanging in his face brushes against your forehead, tickling you slightly and causing your eyes to close, nose scrunching up. Giggling, you reach up to push your hands into his hairline, pushing all of it out of his face. He looks a bit silly, but still so handsome. “Mm, yes please.”

He shakes free of your grasp, hair falling into his face once again, an over-dramatic pout gracing his lips, “Okay, well I’m not going to make you any if you’re just going to tease me, baby.”

“Sorry,” you rush to apologize, a smile still tugging at your lips as, this time, you delicately push a few strands of hair out of his face, tucking them behind his ear, “‘m sorry. You’re so pretty it hurts, Stevie.”

A soft pink blooms on Steve’s cheeks. His eyes roll, but there’s the hint of a smile at the corners of his lips, “Yeah, okay, whatever.”

“I’m serious!” you reply, a deep frown creasing the space between your eyebrows, “Y’so pretty, Stevie. Prettiest boy this side of town, no question.” You sweep more hair back out of his face, pressing little kisses to his nose, his cheeks, the moles dotting his skin, anywhere you can reach.

Steve all but giggles, face scrunching up as he leans into your touch. “Stop,” he says in a way that clearly means keep going, cheeks somehow even pinker as he pushes his face back into the crook of your neck to hide.

You giggle with him, cradling the back of his head as your fingers continue to card through his hair, “My handsome, beautiful, hot boyfriend and his ridiculously soft hair. Love you.”

“You’re just jealous of my hair,” he mumbles into your skin with a loud huff, and you can practically feel the eye roll he’s giving you. “Love you, too, though, pretty girl. Still want that coffee?”

[retrobutterflies]

This is stunning I wanna puke. Your writing is perfect!!!!! Love love love love 💕

surrounded by your embrace

summary: when you get drunk at a party, old memories make steve worry. he really doesn't need to because all alcohol does is make you clingy. gn!reader but mentioned to wear sum eyeshadow, no warnings u and steve are just absolute goobers for each other :D wc: 2k

He goes to the bathroom for five minutes.

Five minutes and you manage to make yourself scarce. The corner you had been previously inhabiting, slurping the lip of your red solo cup while talking to some friends, is completely void of you when Steve finds his way back to it.

Your friends are still there, leaned against the wall and chattering amongst themselves. Steve clears his throat to gain their attention.

"Did you see...?" He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, asking if they'd noticed where you might've wandered off to. You've had quite a few drinks tonight already and Steve's not surprised if it means you've forgotten you're the only one he knows at this party. These are your friends, not his.

One of them points towards the kitchen and he mutters a quiet thank-you, beginning to wind his way through the people to reach the kitchen.

A fraction of unease prickles at the back of his neck. Last time he was a party and his partner ambled off, full of alcohol, it had left a couple memories that cut deep. Steve hasn't ever admitted it aloud to anyone the seeds that Nancy had sowed that night, the little insecurities that had never bothered Steve in the slightest suddenly sprouting up overnight.

Worst is, he can't make himself forget that night. He remembers the spill of red punch on her white shirt vividly. Remembers the sting behind his eyes. Remembers how later on she'd come back in the middle of everything with Jonathan by her side and Steve had just... known.

But you're not Nancy and he knows that. He knows that this is a different party, you're a different person, it's a whole different relationship—

Yet, those insecurities have rooted deep and Steve can feel them shifting painfully inside him as his worries get away from him. Like vines wrapping tight around his ribcage the longer it takes to find you.

You're aren't by the drink station on the kitchen bench and looking out at the sea of people in the living room, you aren't there either. Steve pulls his collar away from his neck, feeling the prickle roll down his skin again. You've gone, something in his head whispers meanly, You've left him and found someone else at this party. Someone without his baggage, someone without his neediness, someone—

Steve scrubs a hand down his face and shoves away his ugly thoughts. None of them are fair to you — you who has been nothing but impossibly and endlessly sweet on him in the one month you and Steve have been dating. He inhales sharply to clear his head and scans the crowd again. Nothing.

Just as he's turning to go bug your friends again, he spots movement out the corner on his eye, someone shuffling about the walk-in pantry. Steve walks closer and peers in. It's you.

Delight and relief bloom together in his chest and he rounds the corner with a shaky smile, leaning up against the door frame. "There you are."

You turn with a little hiccup, clearly startled.

Steve adores how the recognition on your face melts into excitement, steamrolling his anxieties in an instant, and you drop whatever is in your hands and leap for your boyfriend.

"Steve!"

"That's me," He says with a smile, arms opening for you to burrow yourself in. You do so, arms twisting around his middle and face smushing against his chest and he welcomes the warmth of you in his arms. He expects you to move after a minute but you stay put, pressed right up against him, hold only tightening.

"I couldn't find you." You whine.

"You were looking for me in the pantry?"

"Nooooo," The drinks you've had have turned your usual drama up to 11. You dig your face out of his chest and rest your chin against it instead, forcing Steve to look directly down to meet your eyes. "S'just went to get water from th' kitchen 'n' then I saw they have a box of Fruit Roll-Ups."

You say this all as if it's incredibly self-explanatory why you're in the pantry while you're also looking for your boyfriend. Steve looks over your head and spies the spilled box on the ground you were holding just a few moment prior. Lo and behold, half a dozen Fruit Roll-Ups are scattered on the ground.

"Fruit Roll-Ups, Steve." You whisper with more emphasis.

He laughs a little, looking back down at you and thinking how pretty you look tonight. There's this blue crystal-coloured eyeshadow lightly smudged across your eyelids and it glitters beneath the low hanging bulb of the pantry.

"Well, I'm sure you can have one." He nods to gesture behind you. "Melanie won't mind, you're her friend."

Melanie, the party's host, had been tucked up and fast asleep in her bed with a big red bucket by her side when he had opened her door trying to find the bathroom. Steve definitely thinks she won't mind letting you gorge yourself of a single Fruit Roll-Up. Or a couple. Whatever, he won't tell on you.

"You think?"

Steve rubs your back lightly and goads you back towards the snack you're clearly hungry for. Your hands slide out of the hug reluctantly but the moment you turn, you're scuttling over to the treats. Steve chuckles watching you plop yourself down, sitting down on the cold tiles. You're in shorts. Steve can see your goosebumps from here.

He takes a few steps and crouches down, taking a seat next to you, leaning his back up against a beam. You're trying to tear into one of the packets but the moment Steve's back in your view, you're pouting and holding it out to him.

Steve pretends to scoff, taking the packet and opening it easily, but really, he loves that you ask him to do those things. Loves doing little things for you. He offers it back to you and you pluck it from his hands with glee.

He assumes you'll sink your teeth into it but you stare at it for a moment before you surprise him, crawling forward and all bout clambering into his lap.

It's rather inelegant, your drunkenness not helping and you push the heel of your hand just two inches from where it would really hurt, making Steve wince in anticipation. He holds his hands up and out of the way and lets you settle yourself.

A quiet revelation makes something in his chest glows hotly. You're always affectionate, always want to be touching him, but this is another level for you — there's a shyness around PDA that you usually carry that seems to have been shed tonight. Anyone could peer in the pantry and see you curled up in his arms and lap and you seem too enamoured with him to even care.

Steve grins and chides himself for ever being worried earlier.

"Hi." You say, finally situated comfortably. Steve's not sure it is comfortable, sitting sideways in his lap with one leg twisted nearly underneath you and one out in front, sorta curled in, but you seem content enough. He places one hand on the small of your back, the other holding just above your knee.

"Hi there. Comfy now?"

"Very. Can you pass me my roll-up please?"

You've dropped it in your wriggle to get closer to him and its rolled nearly under the shelf Steve's leaning up besides. He leans over and retrieves it, thanks God for the wrapper, and produces it for you.

"A gift." He says, drinking in how your face washes over with delight. With the lights haloing behind your head, your hair frizzy from dancing earlier, he thinks you look like an angel.

"That's right!" You take it from him and pull it close to your chest, attention back on him. "I wanted to give you a kiss, to say thank you."

Steve feels his heart flutter, a stutter in the beats at the utter tenderness of your words. He squeezes your knee and turns his face, holding out his cheek.

"Well, go on then."

You giggle and it's the most dreamy honeyed noise Steve's ever heard. You lean in and plant a big wet kiss on his cheek with a happy hum, pulling back with a mwah!

"Thank you for the kiss, sweetheart." He rubs the hand on your back lightly and you soften at his words completely, pure giddiness running rampant across your features.

Steve soaks it all in, unsure of the last time he knew someone who gave him love so freely. You seem to have endless amounts of it for him. You don't even mind when he's greedy with you.

You finally peel back the wrapper of the Fruit Roll-Up and gobble a bit of it down. You chew and swallow and lean all your weight against him, your shoulder pressing into his. You're close, a couple more inches and the tip of his nose would brush yours. A bashful expression flits across your features.

"I like when you call me sweetheart."

"You do?"

You nod enthusiastically.

"That's good," Steve says, fondness coating each word. " 'Cos I like calling you sweetheart, sweetheart."

It's so cheesy that Steve thinks you shouldn't laugh, but you do because you're wonderful. He grins, his fingers on your knee tightening slightly as you look over him, your eyes crinkled up by your grin. The alcohol makes you brash enough to stare and you look at his face intently for a moment before you huff.

“God!” You drop your head back with a dramatic sigh and sink your teeth into your bottom lip to try contain your giddy grin. It doesn’t work in the slightest. “That look.”

"What? What look?”

You tip your head back up and Steve can read the shyness on your expression, pulling at your eyebrows.

“You know,” You say, a little embarrassed, which is even more adorable on you while drunk. You're flustered over your words, like you know you wouldn't normally have said them if you were sober. “You just get this look sometimes, when you’re looking at me—”

Steve frowns for a moment, minuscule, as he thinks of what face you might be referring to.

“—and your eyes get all intense and- ugh! It still makes nervous when you do it.” You’ve drop your head again, forward this time, to hide your face in his shoulder. You pat your tummy theatrically and then clutch it, voice lowering to a whisper in his ear. “These butterflies are your doing, Harrington.”

Steve laughs, entirely too pleased with himself —he still makes you nervous. Ditto, he thinks. “Is that so?”

"Mmhm." You hum and Steve feels you place a soft kiss on one of the moles on his neck. His breath catches and his heart flip-flops. You wiggle a bit but it's just to try get closer to him, your nose nuzzling against his neck. A tired sigh escapes you.

"You tired? Wanna go home?" He asks.

You nod sluggishly but make no attempt to move. Steve chuckles lightly, his hand still soothing up and down your back gently, not helping in the least he knows. Still, he can't help himself; he wants to ply you with love, with comfort, if he can. You sigh happily.

"N' a minute." You mumble. Your words are slurring the more tired you get. "Just wanna be at a party with my super hot and amazing boyfriend for one more minute. S'okay?"

Steve's heart crumples and he can feel his entire body curl up, his legs sliding up an inch, his hands tensing, all involuntarily reactions to try bring you in closer to him. There is an ache in his very core but it's a lovely ache. Steve feels a burn behind his eyes. He blinks and presses a long kiss to your hairline.

"Yeah, sweetheart," He murmurs into your hair. "That's more than okay with me."

[retrobutterflies]

This whole series is perfect. Love love love. I wish I could inject this into my bloodstream!!!

Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader

part one | part two | part three

series summary: steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: a day at the lake with the Harringtons followed by a night out

content: steve and reader arguing (what’s new), drinking, swearing, these two idiots being in love, she/her pronouns, use of y/n

word count: 3.3k

_

You wake up with a wine-induced headache and you look over to see the spot next to you empty.

Yeah, you and Steve kissed last night, but so what? It didn’t mean anything. It was simply all part of the plan to be a more convincing couple. It would be weird if you guys didn’t share a quick peck every now and then if you were so ‘in love’ like you claimed to be, right?

You quickly shake it off and leave the bedroom to find out where Steve went. You’re half expecting to find a note that says ‘hey that kiss made me wanna flee the country. see you never’

Instead, you see Steve sitting on the front porch in one of the rocking chairs, taking in the scenery.

“Good morning” you say and sit down in the chair next to him. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a nod instead. You refuse to let it be awkward. The weekend has only begun and there’s no way you’re going to let a dumb kiss that meant absolutely nothing make everything weirder than it already is.

“Remember when we kissed last?” you try to lighten the mood. “Do we really have to talk about that? It’s been bugging me all morning”

“Oh, so you’ve been thinking about me all morning, huh?” you tease and he lets out an irritated sigh “do you not know how to be serious about anything?”

“What's there to be serious about? We kissed, for scientific reasons I might add, and it doesn’t have to be weird.” you shrug like it’s no big deal. Except it is a big deal, to Steve, at least. The kiss wasn’t terrible, he might’ve even liked it and he doesn’t want to be dramatic, but that might be the worst thing that’s ever happened. “It is weird though, isn't it?”

“Why? because you liked it?” you ask, expecting him to immediately deny it, but he doesn’t. “Steve? you liked it, didn’t you?” you boast. “No! no, I didn't like it. It was just really stupid and I think it’s insane that you don’t regret it”

“Oh my god, Steve. It was a kiss! You didn’t even hesitate, you practically jumped at the opportunity! then, you initiated the second one!” you proclaim. “Jumped? You were the one making that face!” he argues and you scoff “Face? What face? I was not making a face!” you insist and his eyes roll. “Oh, you so were. You were all like ‘Steve, please kiss me! I’ll even pout my lips and bat my eyelashes at you’” he attempts to make the look that you were allegedly making last night.

“Are you admitting that you think I’m irresistible?” you smirk at him and the triumphant look on his face immediately disappears. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” he says, avoiding an answer to your question. “Yeah, okay, but you still think I’m irresistible” you chaff and he stands up. “You’re about as irresistible as a bed of nails that got set on fire. Now, if you’re done arguing with me, we gotta get ready”

“Ready for what?” you question “There’s a private beach around here and my family wants to go in about an hour” he tells you as you follow him inside. “An hour?! Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” you chastise. “Because you were too busy drooling on your pillow this morning and no, you don’t have time to yell at me because you’re gonna need all the time you can get to look decent before we leave”

_

Apart from the human embodiment of stepping on a piece of gum in a new pair of shoes that is Steve Harrington, today was a lovely day. The sun was shining and there was a cool breeze that balanced perfectly with the weather, making the heat more bearable. The beach was nice, too. It was secluded and Steve’s family were the only people here. Now, if only you could find a way to leave Steve stranded that would make this day even better.

“You finally made it! We were starting to worry!” Steve’s mom, Joanne, greets you. “Sorry about that, Steve forgot to tell me about it last night so I got a late start getting ready” you explain.

“That’s Steve for you. Communication and time-management skills shouldn’t go on his resume if he ever decides to get a real job” His dad chimes in and you can’t help but feel a little bad. “Oh, no, he’s usually always great when it comes to that. We just all have our off days” you defend him and Steve gives you a slight smile as a way to thank you.

“Exactly, George, give Steve a break. I know it’s a little early, but I brought some wine if you’d like some, y/n. It is a vacation after all.” Steve’s mom seems to drink a lot of wine, but if you were married to someone as condescending as George, you would too. “I’d love a glass, thank you”

You sit with Joanne on a blanket while Steve goes over to join his cousins. She pours you a hefty glass of wine and you decide she’s your favorite Harrington.

“How are you two enjoying the house? I know it’s a little small, but we wanted you to be close to us” Their definition of ‘small’ is much different than yours. “It’s perfect, thank you, again. Steve and I had our coffee this morning while admiring the view” okay, you didn’t have coffee, you had a little disagreement, but you were still admiring the view.

“Steve seems absolutely smitten with you. I know I have my faults as a mother, but I still have my instincts and they tell me that maybe in a few years we’ll have another wedding to put on our calendars”

“Oh, I um-”

Before you can get a response out, Steve comes out of nowhere and you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful for his presence. “We've been challenged to a game of chicken. best two outta three, you in?”

“hm, I don’t know. Do you have to be my partner? I would like to win” you tease. “yes, because it’s couple versus couple and you know you can’t win without me. c’mon” he offers his hand to help pull you up off the ground.

When you pull off your bathing suit cover up, Steve knows he should look away. He shouldn’t care that the one-piece you’re wearing in the god awful shade of your signature color, hugs your body perfectly. His eyes definitely shouldn’t briefly flick down to your ass when you bend over to set the coverup on the blanket, but they do.

“Ready?” you ask, pulling him out of whatever weird trance he was just in. “y-yeah. let’s go”

“What did my mom say? you looked a little freaked out back there” he asks once she’s out of earshot. “something about you being just so head over heels for me and how we’re going to be married in a few years” you let out a sigh like it’s something to brush over. “Don’t listen to her, she’s drinking too much wine. Something you guys seem to have in common”

“how else am i supposed to cope with being your lover”

“gross. don’t say that” he whines and you laugh at him as you always do.

“this water is freezing!” you squeal as the water comes to the shore. “hm, really? how freezing?” he asks with a tone that sounds like he has a plan. “that’s a dumb q-” before you can finish your insult, Steve lunges at you and his arms wrap around your waist and he drags you deeper into the water.

“Steve! let me go!” you screech. “if you insist” he replies before dunking you into the water. You get a hold of him and pull him down with you. There’s no way you were going down without a fight.

You both emerge from the cold water, laughing and neither of you have a look of anger on your faces. Which is strange because usually just the sound of each breathing is enough to set either of you off, but you rarely ever see him have fun. It’s kind of nice to see him let loose even if that means being submerged in frigid water.

“If you lovebirds are done, we’re ready to take you down now” his cousin shouts and you both quickly retrieve your touch from one another. “you think you’re gonna be alright with my legs on your shoulders?” you ask him, not meaning for it to intend to sound as dirty as it came out and his cheeks turn pink. “my god, Steve, stop being a perv and squat down. We are not losing this game”

Steve crouches down so you can sit on top of his shoulders. He hands grip your thighs to steady you and you thread your fingers through his hair to keep your balance. He notices that your thighs are soft and smooth. It’s probably from the lotion that you constantly put on ‘cause you smell nice too. He hopes this game is over as soon as possible.

As the ‘battle’ starts, his grip on your thighs tighten, but you don’t have time to focus on the way it’s making you feel when you’re worried about trying to take down the other team.

You win surprisingly fast. Steve was expecting an immediate takedown that resulted in your flying off of his shoulders. Actually, it was more like hoping than expecting. You’re unexpectedly competitive. Steve figured since you’re so sweet and shy (other people’s words, definitely not Steve’s), that you’d go done in a split second, but you stuck to your guns. He’s decently impressed.

“I’m gonna take a walk to dry off. do you wanna join me?” he asks once you’re out of the water. “yeah that sounds nice”

As you walk, your arm wraps around his and he accepts it without question. “I’m gonna say something but don’t let it swell your ego any more than it already is” he starts and you refrain from a sarcastic comment. “I'm having fun with you today and I guess it’s not totally awful that you’re here”

“Should we get you to a hospital? I think there’s a blood-sucking leech in your brain”

“yeah, i think so too” he looks over at you and sees you're already looking at him. The sunshine really does something to his eyes and makes the freckles on his face more noticeable, you could almost connect them like a constellation. Maybe there’s a blood-sucking leech in your brain too.

“I'm having a good time too. Ya know, despite having to constantly be around you” you joke and he chuckles. “well lucky for you, the guys and I are going out to some bar so you’ll have the place to yourself for a while”

“thank god. i’m going to need some time to recover from being nice to you”

“you and me both, y/n. you and me both”

_

With Steve being gone, you had planned a relaxing evening. There was a little general store not far from the house and you’d gotten all the necessities; snacks, a face mask, and some stuff for a bubble bath. You’re about to start a bath when you hear a knock at the door and you pray that Steve isn’t back already.

“Hi!” One of the Harrington wives, Mary, greets you when you open the door. “Hi! Steve isn’t here-”

“Oh, I know. I’m here for you! Are you still getting ready?” She asks when she notices your robe and face mask. “Getting ready for what?” you question. “We’re meeting the guys at the bar! Didn’t Steve tell you?”

“Y-yeah, he did. I just thought it was a pity invite” you lie. “I don’t really have anything to wear for a night out”

“Honey, let me tell you something that I wish someone told me when I first joined this family; never travel without your favorite little black dress when you take a trip with the Harringtons. Especially us young ones. Those boys always go out”

“I don’t have a little black dress. '' You mumble, a little embarrassed. “Lucky for you, I always bring an extra. Here, try it on!” she hands you a dress from her bag along with a pair of black heels to match. Steve is definitely going to make fun of you for this.

You were expecting to feel out of place in this dress, but honestly, you look hot. The dress is a spaghetti strap with a simple square neckline and it’s shorter than what your choice might’ve been, but it’s stunning.

“Oh my gosh, you look incredible! Steve won’t be able to keep his hands off you” she squeals.“I don’t know about that…” you mutter. “Please. I see the way he looks at you and once he sees you in this dress he’s going to lose it”

People keep talking about the way Steve ‘looks’ at you and you’re starting to think they’re just saying it to say it. How can they confuse his looks of dislike and revulsion with love? No wonder Steve thinks his family is crazy

“Alright, I brought us some drinks and they aren’t going to drink themselves. Let’s get to it!”

_

“Hi, boys. Miss us?” Mary announces once you all approach the half-circle booth the boys are sat at. Steve does a double take when he sees you. Not only was he not expecting to see you here, he definitely wasn’t expecting to see you in that dress.

“Hi, Stevie” you say in a sing-song voice. There’s no denying you’re already a little tispy. Your eyes are glassy and you have a loopy grin on your face. “Hi, babe. I thought you were staying in tonight?”

“I was going too but I just missed you. I hope it’s okay I’m here”

“Oh, it’s fine” One of the men interjects. “Steve’s been talking about you all night”

“I have not. They’ve been asking about you and I’ve been answering questions” he explains. “And what have you been saying, Stevie?” you wonder. “He was just telling us-”

“Alright, that’s enough. How about you grab a chair and sit down, yeah?” You look around to try and find an empty chair but with the bar being crowded, there aren’t any available. “Just sit on Steve’s lap! None of us are prudes, clearly” Mary says and you look at Steve with hesitance. “Yeah, that’s fine. Just hop on” hop on? he repeats in his head. He can’t believe he just said that.

You sit on his lap like it’s something you’ve done a million times before. Your arm wraps around his shoulders while his arm wraps around your waist. Once you’re seated comfortably, his hand comes to rest on your thigh, a little too close for comfort. Your breath hitches slightly and you hope Steve didn’t notice. He did notice, and he’s planning on using this against you later.

Steve can’t focus on any of the conversations happening because the only thing on his mind is the fact that he doesn’t entirely hate your closeness. He blames it on the alcohol coursing through his veins. You look rather pretty tonight and you smell so good that it’s more intoxicating than the drink in his glass.

He absentmindedly begins to rub your thigh and you let out a small gasp, causing him to smirk. “Sorry. Just keeping up appearances” he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s fine” you whisper back.

Except, it wasn’t fine. It wasn’t that his touch was making you uncomfortable, it was the complete opposite and that was the problem. You felt yourself melting into his touch and craving it every time his hand left your thigh so he could take a sip of his drink.

You feel like you should regret not staying back at the house, but you don’t. Not even a little bit.

_

“You have to turn the key to the right, Steeevvvee” you drunkenly whine as Steve tries to unlock the front door. “I am turning it to the right” he whines back, mocking your tone. “That’s the left” you point out. “You try it then” he challenges. “Watch and learn, pretty boy”

The key doesn’t budge. You turn it left, you turn it right and nothin’. “Watch and learn. I’m soooo much smarter than Steve” he mimics you as you drop the key on the porch. “It’s broken! What’re we gonna do?” you pout, standing close enough that your chest is flush with his. “Follow me”

You follow Steve to a window that’s slightly open a little higher up than other windows. “I can’t climb through that window in a dress!” you exclaim. “Well, you can’t lift me, so up ya go”

“That is so sexist”

“I know, I’m the worst, blah blah blah. C’mon, let’go” Steve hooks his hands together for you to use as a step. You grip his shoulders and once you're balanced, you’re able to grab the window frame. “I need more of a boost” you tell him. “This is all the boost I got”

“Then throw me!”

“Are you insane? I’m not gonna throw you!”

“We’ll sleep outside, then”

“I have an idea, but don’t punch me! I’m gonna have to touch your butt” he giggles like a four-year-old when he says ‘butt’, making you giggle too. “Lucky you, then. Try not to bust in your pants, okay”

“You sure are confident when you’re drunk. Okay, on three” Steve counts to three and pushes you as much as he can until you’re able to pull yourself through the window. “I’m in!”

“Yeah, I see that. Go unlock the door” he says and you shake your head. “Oh, no no no. If I had to do this, so do you. It’s fun!”

“Why do you have to make everything difficult?”

“Scared you can’t do it?” you taunt. “What was that you said earlier? Watch and learn?”

Steve starts to climb the house and you can’t help but laugh at how many times he slips. Once he’s almost made it, you grab his hand and pull him into the house causing him to topple you to the ground and throwing you both into a fit of giggles.

“Alright, I admit that was fun” he says, a bit breathless. “I know. I’m full of great ideas”

You both stand up and flop onto the bed. “I’m ready to go to sleeo” Steve says with a yawn and closes his eyes. “Noooo, you can’t sleep in those clothes. That’s so uncomfy”

“I can’t move” he grumbles. You move to stand at the foot of the bed and reach your arms out to him. “Get up. Just grab my hands” he lazily grabs your hands and you let out a groan as you pull him up. “Hey, I’m not that heavy” he laughs. “If you say so”

Neither of you have moved from where you’re standing. Your hands are still holding his and his face is close to yours that you could count his eyelashes. “You look really pretty tonight” he whispers like he’s afraid you’ll hear him. “You don’t have to say that. No one’s around”

“And if I said I wanted to kiss you… what would you say to that?” his hand comes up to cradle your cheek and you lean into his touch.

“I’d say it’s a bad idea” you slightly lean in “I know” he leans in closer.

“We hate each other”

“We do”

“And we really shouldn’t kiss ‘cause I don’t think I’ll be able to stop”

“Okay” His nose brushes yours, but his lips press against your cheek instead. This is the one time you wish he wouldn’t listen to you.

“I wouldn’t be able to stop either” Steve confesses before going to get changed in the bathroom, leaving you to feel more confused than you’ve ever felt.

Fuck.

_

taglist: @nix-rose-q @eternallyvenus @freezaz123 @whisperingwillowxox @buckysmetalhand @clincallyonline17 @x-theolivia @realsuper-dark @eddiesguitarskills @megxplryxb @alicetweven @calmoistorm @impossibelle @k-k0129

(for some reason there were a few blogs that i wasn’t able to tag:( i apologize!)

[retrobutterflies]

Scrumptious!!! So well written. The fact that he called at 4am hahaha

and they were roommates - s.h.

summary: from the prompt "we hosted a party for our friends last night and somehow we ended up making out and now it’s the next morning and we’re cleaning the apartment together and I can’t stop thinking about it" wc: 1.5k warnings: lots of overthinking and a flustered steve, but that's about it lol a/n: originally requested as a blurb that i got carried away with; i hope you like it!! sorry for the stupid title LOL

my masterlist

It’s unusually quiet in your apartment for a weekend morning where both you and Steve are home. The radio is on, playing the current pop hits, but it’s not enough to distract you from the distinct lack of conversation. If you wanted, you could probably chalk it up to the headache you were experiencing from your drinking last night, and assume Steve was feeling the same. And you tried, you really did. But you knew that wasn’t the cause of the silence filling your apartment. 

Last night, you and Steve had had all of your friends over to unwind and hang out. There’d been lots of alcohol, and you’d ended up drinking way more than you’d planned to. Your drunk decisions were never your best ones, but you’d really outdone yourself last night. The stupid decision had almost been forgotten until you rolled over in bed to find Steve next to you, his perfect lips parted as he slept soundly. It wasn’t exactly abnormal to wake up next to him, especially after a night of drinking, but nothing had ever happened between the two of you. Until last night. 

You hadn’t done anything more than kiss — albeit quite… passionately — but Steve's one of your best friends, as well as your roommate, and a drunken kiss had the potential to ruin everything. Especially since there’d always been an unspoken tension between you, at least from your perspective, but you’d resolved to ignore it in hopes of it disappearing. Clearly, it hadn’t quite worked. 

After silently panicking, you’d scrambled out of bed and escaped to the kitchen, busying yourself with making breakfast. Steve had stumbled out of your room into the kitchen not long later, but was still half asleep as he poured himself a bowl of cereal, slumped over the counter as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth. Maybe he didn’t remember. 

At the time, you’d told yourself it was probably good if he didn’t remember. But now, as you silently clean the apartment together, you’re not so sure. Would it hurt more if he really didn’t remember the kiss, or if he was just pretending he didn’t? Sure, you’d both been drunk, but it would be a lie to say you’d never considered the possibility, so the thought of it meaning nothing to Steve nearly eats you alive. 

Empty beer bottles and cans clink loudly as you toss them into the garbage bag you’re holding. It’s louder than it needs to be, but you’re trying to focus on cleaning, on the noise; anything to keep your mind from wandering back to Steve and the kiss you’d shared. Because the images of your kiss flash in your mind, of Steve’s hands on your waist, soft lips pressing to yours, do nothing to stop your racing heart. 

You can’t believe he hasn’t said anything, but then again, neither have you. Just the thought of mentioning it makes you flustered, and you’re not sure you can face him without feeling like you’re going to burst into flames, but you have to go back into the kitchen where Steve is washing the dishes that had been left out overnight. 

Steve is humming along to the song playing over the radio when you walk into the kitchen, and only glances up from the dishes for a moment to flash you his perfect smile when the sound of the bag of garbage you’re carrying betrays you. You manage to return the smile — though you’re sure it’s awkward and unconvincing — as you make your way across the kitchen to dump the bag into the bin. He’s still not saying anything, and you’re still not sure how to feel about all of it. Realistically, you know you should really talk about everything that had happened, even if it was just a one-time, drunken make out. You just can’t quite get yourself to do it, though, and chicken out of saying anything as you dart out of the kitchen and up to your room. 

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you grab your phone and dial a number you know by heart. Robin knows both you and Steve better than anyone else; surely she’ll know what you should do. The phone rings once, twice, three times, and finally she picks up with a grumbled, “Hello?”

“Hey, Robs. Did I wake you?” It’s nearly noon, but Robin’s night had been similar to yours — without all of the kissing, of course. 

She huffs, and you can hear rustling from the other side of the phone as she shifts in bed, “Yeah, but it’s fine; need to get up anyway before my mom starts telling me about the dangers of drinking again. Like I drink all the time or something. Anyway, what’s up?”

Suddenly the butterflies are back, fluttering in your chest, as you rub your free hand over your face, “Do you, uh… Do you remember anything that happened last night? I dunno how drunk you were but—“

Robin is quick to cut you off, “If you’re talking about you and Steve sucking face, yeah I remember that.”

You groan in embarrassment, face and chest filling with heat as you whine into the phone, “Jesus, Robin. Do you have to say it like that?”

“Well! That’s what it was! What would you call it?”

“I dunno, anything but that! But that’s not— I called ‘cause… We haven’t talked about it. I don’t know if he even remembers or—“

A scoff cuts you off again and you can practically hear Robin’s eye roll, “Holy shit, can you just talk to each other please? I’m too hungover for this and Steve’s already called me about it.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, at like four in the morning. It was freaking ridiculous. He said he’d talk to you. I think. I don’t really know, I was half asleep.”

Something like hope stirs in you as you thank Robin and apologize again for waking her up before you hang up. A call in the middle of the night could be good or bad, but Robin hadn’t made it sound like it was anything bad. She’s known about your crush on Steve, going so far as to insist that the feeling is almost definitely mutual, but you’ve never had the courage to make a move. You know it’s now or never. 

Opening your door, you run straight into Steve’s chest with a muffled ‘oof!’ His hand is raised, as if he had just been about to knock, but his arm quickly curls around your shoulders to steady you, “Whoa! Sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

Your own apologies spill out at the same time, “Shit, sorry! I didn’t know you—“

Nervous laughter erupts from both of you, easing some of the awkward silence as Steve takes a step back. He looks a little nervous, with pink cheeks and wide eyes, which is strange for Steve. Lifting a hand, he scratches the nape of his neck for a moment and then murmurs, “I was just— thought we should talk and…” He trails off, eyes darting to the floor and back up to you before he blurts out, “I remember.”

“You do?” is all you can think to ask, sounding much more eager than you want to.

“Y-yeah. I do.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, a ragged sound as your breath catches in your throat. “Is that… is that a good thing?”

Steve laughs, a sound of adoration, as his cheeks flush again, a dark pink underneath his pretty freckles and moles. He lifts a hand, fingers tugging at his messy hair, tongue darting out to lick his lips, “Um. I mean, I think so. If you also think it’s good. Unless you regret it, and in that case, we can totally forget it happened and—“

“Steve,” you say his name quickly to cut him off, the corners of your lips pulling up slightly as he stops mid-sentence. 

“Yeah?”

You take a deep breath, and then just go for it, “I don’t regret it at all. I really… I really like you, Steve.”

“Oh. That’s— yeah, that’s good. Can I kiss you again? Since we’re, ya know, less drunk.” 

When you nod, a little dumbstruck, Steve wastes no time in cradling your face in his hands as he steps in closer to you. His hands are warm against your skin, thumbs brushing out over your cheekbones as he gently tilts your face up towards his. His eyes flick to yours for a second, and then he’s kissing you. 

This kiss is more delicate than the one you’d shared last night, though his lips are just as soft as you remember. He tastes less like alcohol this time, thankfully, and more like the fruity pebbles he’d eaten for breakfast, and maybe a hint of his minty toothpaste. You can’t help but melt into him, fingers curling into the worn fabric of his t-shirt to keep him close. 

You accidentally let out a small noise of disappointment when Steve finally pulls back that makes him laugh, the tip of his nose nudging into the softness of your cheek. His lips brush over the corner of yours once more as he murmurs, “Thank god you let me kiss you again. I’d never have survived off of what I remember from last night.” 

“You can kiss me any time you want, Steve.”

thanks for reading ilysm <3333

[retrobutterflies]

This ripped my heart out a little ngl :)

“Love is a permanent wound — especially the unrequited kind.”

Dude wtf why would you do that to me

Scenario 15 from the prompt list with Eddie?

Thank you!

honestly this just SCREAMED eddie leaving to pursue his career with corroded coffin. and i could not resist writing angst. thank YOU ♥

[There’s a hole in my heart from when you left—chasing your dreams in another town/country/state/city. I can’t figure out why though. It isn’t until you return and pull me into a hug do I realize that I love you, and I thought I lost you. ]

—

You're crouched down behind the counter, fighting a pile of papers you've just dropped when someone places a record on top of it. Your heart skips a beat; you didn't even hear anyone come in, although to be honest, you hadn't been paying all that much attention.

You bundle the papers into a hand sloppily and put them aside, a headache for later. You straighten up, already preparing your charming customer service voice.

But it's not needed. There's no use for it because on the counter, before your eyes, lies the newest (and first ever) record of a band called Corroded Coffin — a band that not only you but all of Hawkins knows quite well. And one of the people on the cover is on the other side of the counter, staring at you quietly.

"Hi," says Eddie.

You look at him, very aware that your own mouth is open and yet unable to do anything about it.

The Eddie in front of you is a softer version of the one on the cover, no makeup, no cool rockstar expression. He's two years older than the last time you saw him, but somehow he looks younger, and except for the dark circles under his eyes, he looks healthy enough. He even looks like he's grown a few inches, although that's probably not even possible.

Eddie Munson certainly, undoubtedly, most definitely, shouldn't be here. There's a part of you still doubting he's real, because he's supposed to be on the other side of the world. In a big city, maybe; at a concert with thousands of people watching him, on the cover of a magazine. Far from the small town where he grew up.

Where he had left you behind.

Thoughtfully, Eddie grants you a moment of pure shock where you just stare at him like he's just come back from the dead; it feels like he did, to be honest.

But then the moment is gone and you swallow the lump in your throat, snapping out of the trance.

"Your mom told me you'd be here," Eddie is smiling, but his eyes are apprehensive. It's like he's walking on thin ice, trying to measure your reaction and go from there.

He'd gone to your house. Your mom must have opened the door, overjoyed to see him. You should be happy too, you know you should, but you're not. And when you ask yourself why, all you can find is an old wound reopening, starting to bleed again.

Before you know it, Eddie is running around the counter and pulling you into a tight hug that has you on your toes and steals a whole lot of the air from your lungs.

Two years is a long time. With his arms around you and everything about him invading your senses, you also realize that it's not nearly enough time. Love is a permanent wound — especially the unrequited kind.

"What are you doing here?"

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his arms still around your body. "I missed you," he says, as if that answers everything. Or anything.

"After two years?" you ask, more defensively than you intended to.

Eddie's eyes drop to the floor, arms loosening from around you.

"I've missed you every day. I… wrote to you."

Your silence is an answer. So is the pile of letters still sealed inside a shoebox under your bed at home.

"You never wrote back."

You take a step back and Eddie's arms return to his sides. "No."

"Why?"

Instead of answering, you pick up the record from the counter and return it to the shelf where it belongs. You don't turn around, but you can feel Eddie following you closely.

"You're my best friend," he says suddenly.

"I was your best friend," you correct.

"Y/N."

He touches your elbow and you evade his touch, running a hand through your hair exasperatedly. "Eddie, it's been two years. Two whole years."

"And I've thought of you every single day in these two years."

A low laugh, close to a sigh, escapes you as you shake your head in disbelief. "Eddie-"

"Come with me."

You're sure you must have heard it wrong. "Where?"

"Everywhere. Anywhere. Come with me, with my band when we leave."

My band. Corroded Coffin had slowly shaped itself as it went — some members left, others joined in, and at some point everything fell into place and they finally started to get recognization. They're still not the biggest band in the world, but their popularity has grown enough that a fair amount of money is involved, and you can't see where in all of this you could possibly fit.

It's crazy.

"You're kidding," you say, looking at him in disbelief. "You're not making any sense."

"Why not?"

You shake your head and try to clear your thoughts, walking around the store and rearranging anything out of place. Eddie trails after you insistently — it almost feels like you're both fifteen again.

"The bassist brings his wife with us wherever we go," he says.

You wish you had left all the records and tapes out of place so you could have something to do right now. You pretend to organize a pile of records that is already perfectly in place. "You and I are not married," you say unnecessarily.

Eddie takes the record out of your hand and puts it back in its place.

"Marry me, then."

It astonishes you how he can say those words with such a serious face and yet not mean anything by it.

The way you look at him isn't subtle at all, let alone the amount of time it takes you to remember how to speak again. "That's not funny."

He is grinning, though.

"I know it's not. We did promise to get married if we turned forty and were still single, though, do you remember?"

This seems to have happened in another lifetime.

"I'm not forty," you say stubbornly.

He leans against the wall and watches as you try to find something to keep your hands busy with. "I'd marry you anyways."

The butterflies in your stomach — stupid, stupid butterflies — carry a certain familiarity when they appear. It's weird that Eddie is so observant, so smart, and yet can't see what you so clearly feel every time he says something flirtatious lightly.

"I need to close the store," you say, pushing him gently so you can move past him, although it's still decidedly early, in fact, to close the store. Your parents will understand.

"Sweetheart-"

"No, Eddie, no!" you turn your face to look at him, and that look alone is enough to make him freeze in place. "You don't get to 'sweetheart' me, not after two fucking years, you don't. You have everything, why would you- why did you even come back here?"

Eddie swallows hard. He looks…embarrassed?

"I don't have everything," he says mildly.

"You've moved on with your life and I…" you sigh, defeated, "I'm right where you left me."

For a very long moment, Eddie just looks at you, studying, gauging your reaction.

In the silence, you can hear the cicadas chirping outside, the faint buzz of the neon letters out the front of the store; Still, everything seems to have changed, everything seems different.

Eddie shrugs. "I'm not leaving without you."

"Then you'll be staying in Hawkins for a long, long time," you say quietly. The hole he'd left in your heart two years ago is nowhere near disappearing. You don't want to risk going through it all again.

Eddie takes a deep breath.

"If that's what it takes."

It's a promise.

[retrobutterflies]

Hey guys we have homework. Please read these they’re gonna be on the exam!! And please give them a little kiss <3

- 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒!

𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 << >> 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵

𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢’𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠!!!

𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 • 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 • @keeryshouse

you’re convinced you hate steve, and that he hates you right back. during your camping trip with friends, you find out just how wrong you’ve been.

𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐞 • @stevebabey

It didn’t matter that your best friend Robin claims he’s changed, you do not like Steve Harrington. He used to be egotistical, a player, an asshole — and you’re not in any hurry to believe he’s changed his ways.

𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 • @upsidedownwithsteve

"you can be rough, I can take it." mean steve but sweet steve, just smut.

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 • @msgorillagripcoochie

you come over to family video after a halloween party and steve can't keep his hands off you? idk what this is tbh i was on drugs when i wrote this.

𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 • @hawkins-losers

Steve wants to try something new. Unsurprisingly, it involves two of his favorite things: you and boobies

𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 • @angelulls

you never really understood why the whole of hawkins seemed to fall at steve harringtons feet, you prevented her heart from making any ridiculous jumps years ago, that is of course till the man himself seems to fall to his knees whenever you’re around.

𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 • @chervbs

steve begins to notice a little quirk that you possess only when you’re around him. while he was initially concerned, the reason behind it is sweeter than he could ever guess.

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐞) • @robiin-buckley

Every time Steve gets hurt, you're there to help pick up the pieces; you just weren't expecting him to fall for you in the process.

𝐧𝐞𝐞��𝐲 • @pasukiyo

steve and reader are fuucckkkkeddd upppp, bad writing lol, sex, bad jokes, potty humor lmao

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 • @lurkymurker

Your good friend Steve has managed to get you a job at Family Video over summer break. The long shifts aren’t so bad when they’re broken up by light-hearted jokes, small talk and coffee though it’s the silence that’ll get you in trouble. (You can hear it in the silence — you are in love.)

𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 • @judeswhore

steve’s been worried you’ve been pulling away because you’ve fallen out of love with him, but little did he know the secret you were trying to hide was something he’d been dreaming about forever

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 • @farfromharry

You and Steve had terrible luck when it came to dating. It wasn’t until it was pointed out to you, that maybe that was because you were in love with your best friend.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 • @primroseparker

Physical touch was something you despised, but as always, Steve’s touch was the only exception. When he refuses to believe that you actually hate the whole concept of it, the kids come up with a plan to prove him wrong. 

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐢𝐭 • @djokeeries

a drive-in showing of alien allows for an opportunity that neither steve or the reader are willing to pass by.

𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 • @forourmoons

your grandmother thought you were gonna marry that boy. you have to tell him, drunk and at midnight. a month after your break-up.

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 • @huntingingoodwill

"let's get married." late night, whispered proposals, steve’s dream of having six daughters and general sappiness

𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 • @handful0fteeth

you’re going on your first date with steve harrington, and hours before he’s due to pick you up your best friend gives you some rather unsavory information.

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 • @stevebabey

You haven’t seen Steve in a few weeks, barely a couple phone-calls keeping your relationship beating. You assume the worst. Steve does his best to make it up to you.

𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 • @meadowscarlet

with a thrill of forbiddingness, your older brother's best friend, steve, fucks you against the wall while your brother is on the other side of it.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 • @appocalipse

half certain your crush on steve harrington is in the past, you return to hawkins to attend your friends' graduation. however, an impulsive shared kiss later, things get a little out of hand and you realize you might be lying to yourself...

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 • @chervbs

you’re in love with your best friend, steve. steve is in love with you. you would think it’s simple, right? well, according to steve, you would be wrong.

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 • @ahsokaismyqueen

Ever since Prom, Steve and you had been growing closer to crossing that line from friendship to something more. During a hot summer day, a little more of that line gets crossed. 

𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 • @retrobutterflies

Steve runs his girlfriend a bath when she decides to walk through the rain to come see him. And he thinks she's crazy and stupid and undoubtedly endearing.

𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? • @persage

It's a rainy night when Steve Harrington knocks on your door for help. This time, however, it has nothing to do with the upside down and its monsters but that doesn't make things any easier.

𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 • @harringtown

steve & reader are cuddlin’ on the couch and feelings are revealed (aka Steve gets his hair played with w a dash of friends to lovers) 

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 • @kurtie4life96

Reader is pissed when she sees Steve "flirting" with another girl at one of his house parties. How will he handle it?

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 • @mentalpolaroids

Reader and Steve spend a Friday night “babysitting” and they all end up falling asleep in the living room, only, nobody can get any sleep because Steve is snoring incredibly loud... Except for reader, who's completely used to it 

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 • @idkmanijustwannawrite

steve visits you the next morning after you got far too drunk at his party, and feelings are shared.

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 • @djokeeries

after seeing a customer flirt with you, steve is less than confident. he decides to make sure you know what you two are.

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 • @munsonsreputation

sometimes it's the little things that matter the most and make your heart melt. you and steve are no different...these are six times that the small acts of affection made your love for each other grow.

𝐩𝐬 • 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵.

𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘺. 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 :)

[retrobutterflies]

Cute Aggression | s.h.

Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Summary: Steve runs his girlfriend a bath when she decides to walk through the rain to come see him. And he thinks she's crazy and stupid and undoubtedly endearing.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Pure Fluff, Established Relationship, Nudity but super tame, Steve likes boobs

A/N: There's nothing more gut wrenchingly cute than two people sharing a bath.

"You're soaked." 

A shiver accompanied your quirking smile, tilting your head sheepishly at the unimpressed look of your boyfriend. You could only imagine what you looked like: matted down hair, clothes sticking to you like plastic wrap, any remnants of makeup probably a watercolor blur around your eyes. Your shoes had made uncomfortable squelching noises as you dodged puddles up to Steve's front door and your mind flashed to the indecisive moment before leaving your house where you mistakenly, stupidly, figured you wouldn't need your umbrella.

"Most people answer the door with a 'hello'."

He looked cozy and warm in the doorway. His soft waves were curving in different directions like he had been lying down a moment ago and your eyes lingered on his plaid pajama pants cuffed at the bottoms exposing mismatching socks. He ignored your sarcastic retort with a roll of his eyes and reached out a hand to latch onto the darkened fabric of your sleeve. 

"Why are you soaked?" he asked. His dark eyes found yours in the low glow of his porch light and you hoped for a fleeting moment that you didn't have panda eyes from smudged mascara. 

"Because it's raining," you replied. He huffed, stepping forward into the slight misting, tugging you towards him. Both hands engulfed your forearms then moved quickly up to your shoulders.

"Smartass," he narrowed his eyes at you. "Why are you out in the rain?"

"Because I wanted to come see you." He huffed at you again though a smile was pulling softly at the corners of his mouth. 

"Have you ever heard of a phone? Cool device that lets you call me from the comfort of your own home?" 

"Do you not want me here?" He stepped even closer until he was nearly pressed up against you.

"I absolutely did not say that," he grumbled, arms encircling like vines until he was wrapping you in his warmth. You smiled into his shirt, your own arms snaking around his back and pulling him in close until you were flush together. "You could've called and I would've given you a ride like a normal person."

"It wasn't raining when I first left," you defended yourself. You could feel the moisture from your shirt seeping into his and though you felt bad about ruining his AC/DC shirt that you'd stolen a thousand times, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away from his warmth.

"Yeah and you still live like two miles away. And it's nearly dark." His chest rumbled as he spoke, his voice growing lower. He inclined his head down towards you and you tilted your chin upwards to meet his gaze. Though framed by furrowed brows, his eyes were rich and warm. The brown of his irises matched the cinnamon specks of freckles that danced across the bridge of his nose and you could see the hazy swirling of sleepiness between dark lashes.

"It's a nice walk," you said, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. 

"You live to torment me," he replied. His lips met yours then, quieting your laugh in a kiss. You sighed, pleased to finally be receiving his affection. Your eyes were still closed when he pulled away but he leaned in to press a few kisses to your cheeks and a final one to your forehead, lips like a candle against your frozen skin.

"C'mon. Let's get you inside before you freeze," he mumbled, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, words muffled on wet hair.

You shuffled in, door swinging shut behind you shutting out the biting cold of the autumn air. Your shoes were ditched and your jacket was being peeled off by Steve before he was pushing you upstairs. You winced as your soaking socks sunk into the runner at the top of the steps. Your shirt felt like it was suctioned to your skin and your jeans felt like they weighed ten pounds. 

"I can't believe you walked here," Steve grumbled again, sighing at you as he steered you towards his room, one hand guiding you from the small of your back and the other moving wet hair strands away from your neck. "You're psychotic."

"If you keep being mean to me I'm gonna leave," you quipped back though you were smiling as you crossed the threshold of his bedroom, hardwood turning to plush carpet. 

"I'm not being mean," he said, stepping besides you. He turned to face you, head tilting as his eyes found yours. "Being mean is if I said you looked like a drowned raccoon."

"Steve!" you exclaimed, hand flying to slap him lightly on the arm.

"But I didn't say that," he stated, stepping closer. A coy smile appeared on his lips and you wanted to glower at him. But he looked so pretty under the low light of his lamp that you settled on a weak frown.

"You just did," you said incredulously, arms crossing and lips forming an endearing frown that had Steve's grin widening.

"No I was saying that I could've said that. But I didn't."

"Right so instead you called me psychotic," you shot back. His eyes flickered to your lower lip pushing out in a pout and he found himself cooing at you.

"Aww, bubs," his palms enveloped your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the plush of your cheek bones. "That's because you are."

You scoffed indignantly and he let out a gleeful laugh at your annoyance. He squeezed your cheeks, leaning in close until he could press a few smiling kisses to your lips. You wanted to whine at him, push him away and pretend you were upset but you were weak willed and Steve was intoxicating. His lips were plush and smooth, warming up your chill bitten lips until they were plump and swollen. He tasted like mint and he smelled like faded cologne and cinnamon sticks. 

"'M gonna run you a bath, okay? Your skin feels like ice," he murmured against your lips, pressing a few more kisses as his hands trailed from your cheeks down your neck. You didn't realize how cold you were until his heated palms pressed against the skin of your neck and felt like fire. 

You nodded and he stole a few more pecks before he was heading into the ensuite. The light flickered on and you heard the water start, a low plopping sound until it settled as you imagined the tub filling. Your gaze trailed around the room as you stood still unmoving in the same spot as if your shaking limbs had crystallized in place. He had a bookshelf on the far wall that seemed to have more knick knacks on it than actual books. His desk was littered with cassette tapes missing cases, dull pencils atop forgotten scribbled reminders, and your broken Walkman unscrewed and open that Steve claimed he was going to fix. 

Your frozen knees ached a little as you forced yourself to move, taking a few steps towards his ever-open closet to pick up the random piles of clothes that seemed to be permanent decor pieces. You dropped them in his hamper and then moved to his unmade bed so you could pull the comforter back up and smooth out the wrinkles. You eyed the pile of polaroids that had their designated place next to his lamp and felt your chest warm at how you seemed to appear in every single one of them.

You heard Steve call your name and cast a final lingering look at the photo of Steve with his arm slung around you before finding your way into the bathroom. He was crouched in front of the sink, sifting through the product graveyard that you called his cabinet.

"What are you looking for?" you asked, leaning yourself up against the doorway. He was squinting his eyes into the abyss of the cabinet, hand pushing through what you could only assume was an array of long forgotten toiletries.

"That bottle of makeup remover. I swear you left it here. It's like bright pink how could I possible not see it," he was glaring into the wooden shelves as if the bottle itself was trying to hide from his gaze.

"Makeup remover. Right," you grumbled though your lips seemed to be permanently up-ticked in Steve's presence, "because I look like a drowned raccoon."

"You said it not me," he quipped and you gasped in faux indignation, moving your socked foot to jab into his side. He yelped, pulling back from his crouched position in front of the cabinet to give you a look though his smirk was deepening, making small dimples appear on his ever-tan cheeks.

"No you said it," you huffed. He let out a deep chuckle, standing up and turning towards you with the bright pink bottle in his hand. "You could've at least gone with a panda or something."

"Sloth was actually my second choice," he said. He let out a delighted squeal as you leapt forward, pout deepening and hand held high to enact your revenge. He dodged you easily enough, moving quickly to grab hold of your wrists, makeup remover discarded to the sink. He pulled you in close, towering slightly as he held your wrists firm. He grinned at you as you glared, eyes flickering down to your lower lip jutted out and he couldn't stop himself from stealing a kiss, quick and fast.

"You're being so mean," you whined though felt your self leaning towards him, hoping he'd kiss you again. 

"I'm not," he argued, "You're the most beautiful raccoon I've ever seen."

He laughed at your defiant groan of his name. He swooped in again, quieting your protests against silken lips and your resolve died quickly on your tongue. You wanted to be angry but he took a step closer and deepened the kiss so that all you could do was let out a contented sigh. He let go of one of your wrists to move his hand to the back of your neck. His palm warmed goosebump painted skin and his thumb and forefinger gently massaged the tired tendons of your neck, easing the tension from your spine.

When your brain felt like TV static, he was pulling away with flushed cheeks and an endeared grin. His eyes trailed around the contours of your face, following the swoops and valleys of your cheekbones and cupid's bow. Your eyes fluttered open and he couldn't understand how even with mascara smudged like two gnarly black eyes and hair frizzy and tangled beyond belief, you still stole his breath away.

"If you compare me to another animal–" He kissed you again and then again, deciding he wasn't quite done, pulling you back deeper into your love drunk state. His arms moved around the curve of your waist, tugging you in so you were ruining his shirt once more. His cologne was all encompassing, your head was foggy, and you felt any more witty comments puffing out like matches.

When his kisses started trailing from your lips to the curve of your jaw, he finally zeroed in on how cold your skin felt and what he was supposed to be doing before you and your siren-like beauty distracted him. He hummed low and deep against your throat, nipping at the skin with his canines like he was pulling you from your haze.

"Will you let me get you ready? Or are you gonna keep distracting me?" he murmured, lips still dragging lightly against your pulse point.

You could only hum back, hands gripping tight to the cotton of his shirt so he couldn't pull away. He chuckled again, giving a few more love bites soothed with pillowy kisses. Then he was tugging you back towards the sink so he could soak a cotton pad in makeup remover and take off the evidence of your battle with the rain.

You kept your eyes shut, leaning against his chest, hip touching the counter as he smoothed the cotton pad over your eyes. He was gentle and slow, nicer than you were to your own skin. Every few moments he would lean in and peck your lips making a smile tug at the corners but you kept your eyes shut, savoring the moment and his caring touches.

When he was done, he was pulling away making your eyes flutter open. He turned around to turn off the faucet, hand touching the water quickly to test the temperature. Then he was turning back, stepping close to you again with warm honey eyes and a soft smile.

"Alright, up," he ordered, hands moving to grip the rim of your shirt. He lifted the soaked material up and over your head. You felt his eyes linger on your satin bra as you undid the button of your jeans with shaking hands. 

"You just wanna see me naked," you commented, smirking as you pulled down your jeans until they crumbled in a heap on the floor.

"I just want to make sure my girlfriend doesn't freeze to death. And you're turning me into a villain?" he questioned.

"Are you denying it?" you asked, pausing your hands mid movement as they gripped the clasp of your bra. He blinked at you, eyes hovering down then to your halted movements.

"Okay now you're being mean to me," he replied, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes grew darker.

"I was just clarifying," you said, smile deepening before deciding to end his torment. 

Though he had seen you naked countless times, Steve couldn't help feel like an excited school boy every time. He wasn't sure if you knew just how much power you wielded over him. You could have him on his knees at even the promise of looking at you. He took a step closer and your breath hitched as you watch his hand reach out. His hand was burning as he touched your skin, palm cupping your tit and thumb swiping over your hardened nipple.

"See," he murmured, free hand snaking around your back, smoothing up the dip in your spine, trailing chills in its wake. "You're freezing."

You hummed in agreement and he leaned down to press an open-mouthed kiss to your collar bone. His hand squeezed and his thumb swiped again and you jumped at the sensation, feeling heat and want creep up your back. He dragged his lips back up towards your neck, ghosting over your throat as his hand continued its affection.

"C'mon," was all he said before he was tugging you towards the bath. 

Steve was quick to rid himself of his clothes at your goading pulls of his shirt, dropping in careless piles on the tiled floor along with the rest of yours. He sunk into the water first, letting out a hiss through pearly teeth as he lowered into the steaming water. Then he was grabbing for you, helping you in to sit in front of him.

"It's hot, Steve," you said, hissing just the same, wanting to pull away because the water felt like lava against your icy skin.

"I know. I know. Easy," he said, hands holding above the dip in your waist, firm but gentle, guiding you down so your back was resting against his chest. "Good job. Better?"

You nodded, soaking in his praise with a hum. The water soon turned to welcomed heat and you felt your body melting into the tub, molding yourself against the broad expanse of Steve's torso. He dipped his hand in the water, cupping it slightly so he could bring some of it onto your head. He smoothed back the hair from your forehead, letting the warm water trickle over your ears and down the back of your neck. You hummed again, eyes fluttering shut and brain turning gooey as his left arm moved to encircle over your stomach, pulling you flush against him.

He used his free hand to move away the hair stuck to your neck, draping it over one shoulder so the left side of your neck was exposed to him. You leaned your head back, resting it against his shoulder, letting his lips find the smooth silk of your neck to leave warm, molten kisses to the warming skin. His left hand trailed upwards, following the curve of your love handle to settle again on your chest and his other hand followed suit until you were sinking in deeper, further against Steve and his brandishing kisses and affectionate hands.

His lips trailed from your neck to your shoulder. They lingered near the line of water, dragging lightly over your skin until his affection turned to cute aggression and he nipped at the skin poking out from the water. You squirmed against him and he nipped again before kissing away the sting at your quiet protest.

"You know you can't eat me, Steve," you mumbled, voice slurred in comfort and pleasure.

"I know," he replied, words muffled against your skin, nipping again and tightening his grip on you when you squirmed again. "But I can try."

"Just admit you're obsessed with me," you responded and he could hear the smile in your voice.

"Says the girl who walked in a hurricane to come see me," he quipped back.

"It's just rain. You're dramatic," you mumbled, too content to argue further.

"And you're obsessed with me," he concluded, littering a dozen and a half more kisses to your skin until he was biting again and you were turning to protest and he was catching your lips against his to dilute your annoyance into the ever present love haze that was Steve.

Link to my masterlist :)

[retrobutterflies]

Love love love love love !!!! The descriptions of the physical touch are so good I could feel them. This writing is beautiful and amazing 💕

keep my hand in yours

a/n: im so sorry for the wait anon, pls forgive me and accept some super fluffy fluff in apology <3

requested by anonymous

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve & reader are cuddlin’ on the couch and feelings are revealed (aka Steve gets his hair played with w a dash of friends to lovers) 

word count: 1.8k

-

Steve doesn’t have a clue what’s happening on the tv screen.

He was the one who picked this movie, and he was pretty excited to see it, actually, but then, you settled in on the couch closer to him than you have in five years of friendship, close enough that your knee pressed into Steve’s thigh.

And it was all over.

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