#its just head cannon though
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I guess Jason in my stories is a family man.
Man's wants I guess
#house of ashes#my writing#hoa jason#jalim#hoa salim#its just head cannon though#but like i can't imagine he would hate yhe idea of having or being a part of a family
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do we think luce did ballet
#star says#khr#luce khr#katekyo hitman reborn#Im on the fence abt headcanoning this#bc I can't tell if its the kind of thing she would do or not#its very much a toss up to me (mostly bc we don't know much about her personally)#but an art that requires insane strength balance and precision that has the ultimate effect of appearing effortless and graceful#despite how painful it can actually be?#excellent metaphor for her I think#and she needs some hobbies#I had this pretty disturbing idea once where after the curse the arcobaleno find that she has a room for everyone decorated#just the way they like it#with everything sized for toddlers bc she could see them before they met#so she can have some normal hobbies (ballet) and some slightly deranged ones (decorating her future coworkers to whom#she will be bound for life's rooms for when they are inevitably turned into toddlers)#(everyone leaves and doesn't appreciate her artistry obv)#though I do head cannon that viper left a while after everyone else managed to ditch as they were too unstable immediately after the curse#and Giglio Nero could and would provide the care they needed#which makes me think about the implications of Giglio Nero's relationship to the Arcobaleno and the Trinisette#but there's like 100 tags on this 6 word post so I will stop here
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Love Game
[Logan Howlett x fem!reader]
Warnings: MDNI/18+ use of she/her, female reader, swearing, being referred to as a girl, mention of being a stress eater, mild alcohol consumption and mention of alcoholism kinda, jealous!Logan, mild violence, youâre shorter than Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it up), little bit of spitting, sub!logan x kinda dom!reader, voyeurism? Technically?, use of pet names, I believe thatâs it but pls lmk if I missed any! ps. you wear a dress in this but if that don't work for you, imagine its a sick ass tux/ fancy attire you're comfy in
Also non cannon compliant because I know Logan is heavy as shit and his body weight would crush you but just for a minute youâre gonna pretend like it wouldnât
Summary: essentially [this ask] with plot ! // Scott needs to mind his god damn business, but he mightâve done you a favor by snatching your diary and waving it in Logan's face.
Word Count: 8K
âŚâ˘ÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇâ˘âŚâ˘ÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇâ˘âŚ
âThat fucking kid.â
You groaned, lifting your mattress and checking underneath and round your bed. You knew Scott was going to snatch your diary the moment youâd realized he overheard you tell Ororo where you kept it. He was always busting your balls the same way he did Logans, even insisting it was a âtwo for oneâ deal when he got to bother you at the same time.Â
Well, he was really gonna regret messing with you this time.
âSummers! Iâm going to wring your goddamn neck! Where is it?â
Your voice boomed through the open halls of the mansion as you barreled down the stairs, feet moving faster than your thoughts. Everything echoed in this place; if he was here, you know he heard you.
âScott!â
You continued to call his name, stomping around until you locked eyes with him as you entered the kitchen. In his hands - to your abject horror - was your diary, spread open while Logan peeked over his shoulder.Â
Truthfully, Scott was a little scared shitless of the consequences of what heâd done. Heâd dealt with Logan back and forth, sure, but you? Terrifying. You had just about the same strength as Logan and about five times his rage. Thatâs why his eyes grew wide when he saw you, snapping the little book shut.Â
You could feel your face burning. A diary was private within itself, but there were some things youâd written that were never supposed to be read by another soul; Scott and Loganâs included.
âFucker,â you grumbled, reaching forward to grab the book from Scottâs hands until Logan snatched it, holding it above your head.Â
âAh, not so fast,â he teased.
Youâd gotten into plenty of squabbles with Scott, but he was absolutely going to pay for this. He knew the way you felt about Logan and you swore he got some sick satisfaction out of trying to humiliate you. He only found out because heâd overheard you confiding in Jean late one night in the living room with a pint of ice cream in your hands, yapping while you shoveled Ben and Jerrys into your mouth.
Your eyes flickered between his face and Loganâs. If looks could kill, Scott would have dropped dead the second you walked into the kitchen.Â
âNow what is this,â Logan asked with a lilt in his voice as his eyes scanned a page, âa whole paragraph for little olâ me?â
Shit.Â
âIâll give it back, I promise, but I gotta read this.â
If you tried, you could maybe snatch the thing from his grip before he read too much. You considered jumping on him, piggybacking until he dropped it or handed it over. What lengths would you be willing to go through to keep it a secret anyway? Was it really even a big deal?
You had a crush. Everybody does at some point. A stupid, harmless crush and if this was how he was going to find out, so be it.Â
You were still absolutely planning on tearing Scott from limb to limb, though.
âHuh,â Logan clicked his tongue, beginning to read from the pages, âNo one knows how to piss me off like Logan.â
You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.
âTrue,â he commented, âand he spends a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom to do his hair.â
âAlso true,â Scott chimed in, becoming the subject of your seething gaze.Â
âHeâd save so much time if he just let me do it for him - like it would be hard to comb it into two cat ears,â he read, looking up to speak to you, âfirst of all, I told you theyâre not cat ears.â
You simply nodded and rolled your eyes.
âSecond of all, you couldnât master âem anyway - Iâd have to fix it myself.â
You just scoffed, leaning yourself back against the kitchen counter in an attempt to act nonchalant while you tapped one foot uncontrollably. Everything heâd read so far seemed to be the mundane stuff, nothing incriminating just yet.Â
âGod, how I wannaâŚplay with his hair,â he read, eyebrow quirked in confusion.
Ah, there it is.
âThatâs, uh - itâs really old, I didnât mean, like - itâs from years ago,â you tried to blabber out an excuse.
âItâs dated - itâs from a couple months ago.â
You pursed your lips, nearly biting through the flesh at the same time from the pressure. You had to get that book out of his hands.
âHeâs so stubborn,â Logan continued to read with a smug grin, holding the book high when you jumped to grab it, âI wish someone would just put him in his place.â
âOoh,â Scott chuckled, looking to you, âare you gonna be the one to do it?â
âFuck you, Summers - Iâm so gonna get you back for this,â you snarled.
âI donât think it would take too much for him to keep his mouth shutâ Logan started to read again.
You instantly recognized the part he was reading and gasped, frantically reaching again for the book.Â
âNo, no, no, Logan, please - you donât wanna read th-â
âIâd love to be the one to do it. I wanna take him and -â
He stopped reading and his eyes scanned the rest of the page, his amused smile faltering. You knew exactly what it was heâd read and you wanted to bury yourself alive. You remembered scrawling it down, snickering to yourself as you dragged the gel pen across the paper.
I wanna take him and tie him to my bedpost, probably shove my panties in his mouth and fuck him senseless.That would really shut him up.
Out of all the pages in that goddamn book, thatâs the one he had to open up to?
You watched intently as his eyes flashed from yours to the page and then back again.
âWhat does it say?â Scott questioned, trying to lean over to get a look.
Instead of letting him read it, he snapped it shut and held it out towards you, his face expressionless. Was he mad? Grossed out?
âDonât worry about it. We shouldnât be readinâ her private stuff anyway.â
âUhâŚ,â you hesitated, fingers softly grazing his when you took it back, âthanks.â
You turned on your heel immediately and hastily made your way back to your room. You hoped to hide out there the rest of the day, praying maybe Logan would forget what heâd read or just let it be. You knew him well enough to know he wouldnât.
You knew him so well because you were like mirrors of each other; smart mouthed and hot headed. You realized that the first couple months with the X-men, always butting heads with him until one mission where you had to grab the back of his jacket in an attempt to keep him where he was. You tugged with so much force that you nearly knocked him on his ass. Even Hank had never been bold enough to do that, not when Logan was as riled up as could be. From that point on, it was kind of an unspoken assumption that you would always be the one who calmed him down or held him back. So, you did just that; grabbing his wrist with both hands to force him to keep his claws to himself or pushing back against him when he tried to lunge at Scott for something stupid - though, after what he just pulled, you may just let Logan rip him apart next time. Though it was never acknowledged between the two of you, you were his anchor. You held him down when he began to drift away. Fortunately for you, he did the same - using minimal effort to keep you in place when you tried to go for someoneâs face or going as far as to hike you over his shoulder and carry you away from the confrontation, all while you kicked and screamed to be let down.Â
You avoided him the best you could for two days after the incident in the kitchen, quick comments in passing but never staying long enough for a full conversation out of fear that heâd bring up what he read. What were you supposed to say, anyway? âSorry I thought about fucking you?â
Youâd have to think of something because you were face to face in training a few days later. Scott stood to the side of you both, a stopwatch in his hand.Â
âAlright, when I say go, whoever pins the other down for more than five seconds wins. Remember, you're each trying to beat your time from the last session.â
Scottâs voice almost sounded underwater. Your eyes were locked with Loganâs and though you wanted to rip your gaze away, you couldnât.
âReady? AndâŚgo!â
He backed out of the way and you tried to lunge at Logan, quickly being flipped onto your back.
âOkay, ow,â you whispered to yourself, immediately standing back up.
He tried to grab you when you stood but you caught his hand, twisting his arm behind his back to force him to the ground. You straddled his back and kept your weight on him but he was too quick, turning over and pushing you off him.
âDonât get too excited, now,â he panted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
You were caught off by the low cadence of his voice, inadvertently letting your guard down and giving him an opportunity to pin your arms above your head and keep your legs down with the weight of his knee. Scott began to count down and you racked your brain for a way to get yourself out from underneath him.Â
You were able to pull one of your legs free, sending him a little off balance and using your leg on the side of his torso to roll him over on his back again. You straddled his waist, using your hands and your forearms to hold his down. That, however, left you nose to nose while panting for air.Â
âWhat, you thought Iâd let you win?â You asked, tongue poking at the corner of your open mouth. It was usual for you to tease each other with little snide comments. Nothing any different from the usual, right?
âNah, I just really like havinâ you on top.â
Nope, definitely different.Â
You didnât even hear Scott call time on your match at first.Â
âHey! Lovebirds! I said you can get off each other. Jesus,â he groaned. You finally remembered where you were and quickly scrambled off of Logan.Â
âAw, really? It was just gettinâ good,â he chuckled. You could feel his eyes on you as you gathered your belongings with your back turned. You tried to step out into the hallway, praying he wouldnât catch you before you met the elevator doors - of course, you werenât that lucky.
âHey, hey - princess, wait up,â you heard him call after you and you stopped, turning on your heel with an irritated expression.
âAbout the other day, the thing you wrote - â
You sighed, rubbing your face in distress and cutting him off before he could finish.
âListen, Logan,â you quickly looked around the corridor to make sure you were alone, âI know what you read, I donât wanna talk about it. It - look, it was some stupid phase where I had a crush and itâs over, okay?â
He tilted his head. You hoped he would simply nod and move on, but you watched his lips curl into a smile instead.
âAw, what happened - you changed your mind?â
You knew him well enough to understand the look on his face. He was never gonna let this go - in fact, he was probably going to nearly torture you over it.Â
âShut up,â you huffed and continued to walk away, keeping your stare straight ahead.
âAw, pretty girl -â
You dropped your belongings to the floor with an audible thud and gathered the front of Loganâs t-shirt in your fists, tugging him down to your height so you were face to face.Â
âFirst of all, I told you not to call me that - âprincessâ, âpretty girlâ - like Iâm one of your little girlfriends. Okay, kitty cat?â you scolded through gritted teeth. He hated being called that and you knew it.
His eyebrows were raised and his lips parted in surprise.
âAnd second of all,â you continued with a deep breath, âyou read it, itâs done - leave it be, would you? It doesnât mean anything.â
You still had his shirt in your tight grip.
âAlright, alright - Iâm just teasing,â he admitted, trying to pry your fingers from his t-shirt, âand Iâm sorry, I never shouldâve been reading it in the first place.âÂ
You sighed and finally let him go.
âFine, I forgive you. And you canât ever tell anyone what you read. Promise?â
âCross my heart and hope to die.â
âSo, weâre cool again? Nothings weird?â
âNot unless you make it weird.â
âYou were the one flirting with me.â
âUh - was not. I was simply creating a distraction to throw you off guard and it worked.â
âIâll get you back.â
âSure, you will.â
âŚâ˘ÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇâ˘âŚâ˘ÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇâ˘âŚ
You and Logan were in forced proximity hours later, standing with Scott, Jean and Ororo in Charlesâ office.
âDo we really have to go?â Logan groaned, hanging his head back in frustration.
You were staring at the thick paper invite atop Charlesâ desk. All your names were scrawled in cursive, surrounded by small gold detailing with the event written on top. It was some kind of Gala, something for charity that you couldnât quite make out from where you were standing.
âIt would be a wonderful opportunity to represent the school, yourselves and the mutant population as a whole,â Charles answered.
âYou really think wolvie and his little hothead wrangler are gonna be well behaved enough to not make a scene?â Scott gestured towards you both.
Logan stepped towards him and you instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to hold him back. He looked back at you, clearly annoyed.
âWeâll be fine,â you insisted while glaring daggers in Scottâs direction.
You didnât notice that you were still holding the sleeve of Loganâs jacket when Charles dismissed you. You let go and cleared your throat as you followed him out of the room.
âThere's no way in hell I'm wearing a suit,â he grumbled, looking down at his flannel and jeans.
âYou donât wanna play dress up?â You teased.
âAnd look like a stuck up prick? No.â
âI'm kind of excited to wear something nice for once,â you admitted, âIâve got a couple nice dresses Iâve never even worn. Besides, maybe thereâs gonna be a couple of hot, rich guys there.â
You were looking straight ahead as you walked side by side down the hall, smiling to yourself. If you had turned your head, you would have seen the way Logan rolled his eyes.Â
âWhat, youâre gonna go home with some rich schmuck just âcause heâs got money?â
He sounded almost annoyed. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged.Â
âI donât know, if heâs good looking, maybe.â
That was only a little truthful. You were not the type of person who was comfortable enough to go back to a stranger's place or hook up with someone youâd never see again. But maybe you could, if it would keep your mind off Logan and convince him to forget about what heâd read a few days ago. And if the guy did have money? It certainly wouldnât be a problem for you.
âOh,â Ororo piped up from behind you, stretching out the vowel, âI see - youâre going shopping. Gotta try before you buy, huh?â
She playfully poked your side and you chuckled, swatting her hand away.
âCall it what you want,â you responded, âbut Iâm gonna have fun, at the very least.â
You would end up having fun - just in a much different way than you expected.
You decided on getting ready for the night in Ororoâs room when the time came a few weeks later. She was touching up her makeup at her vanity while you changed behind the bathroom door.Â
âDoes it fit?â She asked through the wood with her eyes still on her reflection.
You were attempting to zip the back of your dress with your arm stretched uncomfortably over your shoulder.
âIn a way? Kind of.â
Jean entered the room just then, having already gotten ready in her and Scottâs room.
âSheâs trying on a dress thatâs been in her closet since last year that still had tags,â Ororo explained to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.
âCan one of you zip me up, though?â you sighed in defeat and opened the door, âI canât get it.â
âWoah, mama!â Ororo comically wolf whistled and you rolled your eyes with a smile.
The dress was your favorite out of your collection of unworn clothing; it showed the perfect amount of skin and hugged your figure phenomenally. To top it off, the color complemented your skin in the best way possible.
âI donât look silly? I feel a little funny getting all dolled up,â you confessed, turning around so Jean could pull your zipper up the rest of the way.
âDefinitely not silly,â Jean reassured you but mumbled under her breath after, âLoganâs gonna lose it.â
You turned back around to quirk an eyebrow at her.
âWho cares what he thinks? Did I say I care what he thinks? âCause I donât. Like, at all.â
âHoney,â Ororo began, âwe already know you like him, remember?â
You groaned and bent down to look into the mirror on her vanity.
âI donât - not anymore, at least.â
âYeah, right,â Jean giggled, âkeep telling yourself that.â
Ororo looked at the time on her watch and hastily stood to slip on her shoes, âWeâre gonna be late if we donât leave soon. Logan and Scott are supposed to meet us downstairs.â
You stepped into your shoes and grabbed the little bag youâd carry for the night, following her and Jean out the door. When you finally got to the staircase, you could see Scott and Logan talking to each other at the bottom, the latter of the two standing with his back facing the stairs.Â
âAll right, ready!â Jean enthusiastically announced. If she hadnât said anything, the simultaneous clicking of your shoes wouldâve announced your presence for you.
Logan turned around to face you. At that moment, he wondered why he ever complained about going in the first place. His eyes were glued to you as you came down the stairs and you could feel yourself start to get warmer.Â
He looked so good in a tux, Jesus Christ. You liked when he wore those tight fitting tanks and jeans, sure, but something about the formal attire really did it for you. His cologne wafting into your space when you stood next to him didnât do much to help dispel any feelings you had, either. How badly you wanted to just forget the stupid event, tug him into your bedroom upstairs and show him that you were so not kidding about what youâd scribbled in your diary. Alas, that was certainly not going to happen.
âJust an old crush,â you internally tried to remind yourself, âjust an old crush - thatâs it. Iâm not into him anymore.â
Except that you knew damn well it was a lie.Â
âWeâre gonna be late if we stand here any longer, câmon,â Scott began walking with Jean while you, Logan and Ororo followed.
âYou look nice,â Logan finally spoke as you made it to the door, âthink youâll bag any of those rich guys?â
You almost asked what he was talking about, too lost in thinking about how you actually wanted to bag him and not some stranger.
âI donât know,â you answered truthfully, âbut if I do, youâll be the last to find out.â
âOh, really? Whyâs that?â
âBecause Iâll never hear the end of it.â
âGot that right.â
You eventually found yourself in a large, decorated open room, sat in the corner with Logan while he nursed a glass of whiskey and you anxiously scarfed down appetizers. The rest of the team had walked off to mingle - like normal people do.
âKid, youâre gonna choke if you keep eatinâ that fast,â he warned you.
â âm a stress eater,â you explained with a mouthful of fancy cheese, âbesides, youâre a stress drinker. Thank god thereâs so many tiny foods.â
He scoffed and took a sip of his drink.Â
âWhat are you even stressed about, anyway? Half your job tonight is to just stand there and look pretty and youâve already got that down.â
âThank you, I think?â your eyes nervously scanned the room, âI just hate being in a crowded place, especially one this big thatâs full of complete strangers.â
âWhy do you think Iâm holdinâ a glass right now?âÂ
Your eyes flickered between his and the half full glass in his hand. You wordlessly took it from his fingers before he even had time to react and downed the contents in one gulp.
âWell, thatâs one way to calm your nerves,â he commented, âbut if you keep drinkinâ like that, youâre gonna be face first on the ground before the nights even started.â
You were still holding a grimace from the burn of the alcohol but shook your head and cleared your throat, âI just needed the kick in the ass - Iâm good.â
âSo, youâre gonna go socialize? Good luck,â he raised his eyebrows, âsomething tells me these people arenât really who we want to be hanging out with.â
âWhy, because they have an immense amount of cash to burn and we donât? You canât hate people just because they have money, Logan.â
âThen how am I doinâ it right now?â
You rolled your eyes.
âI think thereâs gotta be a few genuinely good people out there who just happen to be rich.â
âUh-huh, and I think two plus two is five - it doesnât make me right.â
âYou know what? Iâm going to prove you wrong,â you said smugly, standing up from the table.Â
âI think youâll prove me right.â
âYou wanna bet?â
âItâs a deal.â
âWhat are we betting, exactly?â
âHow âbout this - if either of us can find someone here we actually want to go home with, you win. If we donât, I win.â
âFine,â you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, âwhat does the winner get?â
âI donât know,â he shrugged, âwe can figure it out later.â
With that, you both dispersed. You were still feeling uncomfortable but that wasnât going to go away unless you did something about it. Do you just go up and talk to someone? What do you say?
âExcuse me,â a voice said from behind you and you turned around, only to be face to face with a cute guy in a tux.
âOh, so they come up to you,â you thought immediately.
âUh, I donât mean to be forward with you, but you look very beautiful,â he said politely, a charming smile on his face, âI saw you when you walked in and wanted to say something, I just wasnât sure if you came with someone.â
You took a second to respond, still processing the fact that he even came up to you.Â
âOh, thanks,â you finally replied, âyouâre not too bad yourself.â
You tried to use humor to dispel the awkwardness - the type of awkwardness you feel when you get asked to go to a school dance in the seventh grade - but this guy was cute. If you just got to know him a bit, the mild discomfort would probably pass.
âI didnât come here with anyone, by the way,â you added, âWell, I mean, I did but not in that way - Iâm with friends.â
âThatâs good to know,â he said, grinning, âin that case, would you wanna dance with me?â
You hadnât even asked each other your names, and you didnât really care.Â
You nodded and let him take your hand, âI have to warn you, though - Iâm no dancer.â
âWell, do I look like one? âCause Iâm certainly not, either. But when thereâs a beautiful woman in the room that you really wanna talk to, youâve got to think of a reason to go up and talk to her.â
âI donât know - I think you just might be a bit of a smooth talker.â
He was and it was definitely working. He clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.
âOh, câmon, donât make me blush.â
He was funny, too. All you had to do was find out a little more about him - for the sake of the bet, yes, but also to determine the probability of breaking his bed frame later if it all went well.
So, you let him rest his arms around your waist and you put your hands on his shoulders. It was kind of nice to have someone so close. You started to feel mildly uncomfortable, though, as if someone was staring at you. You ignored it anyway, deciding it was just the anxiety of being in a place with a lot of people.
Really, it was Logan standing across the room with his stare glued to you two. He looked like he wanted to bore a hole into the poor guy's skull. When you finally caught sight of him, he turned and seemingly disappeared.
You spent a bit of time with your new date, intending to subtilely interrogate him to find out if he fit the criteria for your bet with Logan. Even if he didnât? You might let him take you home anyway.
You sat with him at an abandoned table, leaning your head on your hand as you half - listened to him talk about stocks. You glanced around the room and spotted Logan again almost immediately.Â
He was leaning against the wall with a girl hanging from his arm. She was talking away and he looked completely disinterested. The whole point of coming was to distract yourself from anything to do with him and there you were, ignoring your date to silently seethe at a girl who was only in his vicinity.
You tried to zone back in on the conversation and really pay attention when he started to talk about his job. It was some tech company youâd heard of, a big name in the industry.
âOh, so, what do you do there?âÂ
âWell, I own it.â
You squinted and sat up straight.
âYou own the company.â
It was more of a statement than a question.
He nodded and you raised your eyebrows. This was going much better than you anticipated. You couldnât help but glance over at Logan to see that girl still standing with him. She was twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. She was undeniably pretty, so you wondered why he wasnât even looking at her while she hung all over him.
âHey, would you wanna dance with me again? I know itâs a little slow paced, but I love this song.â
You returned your attention to the man in front of you and smiled as politely as possible.
âYou know what? Sure, why not.â
You let him lead you into the middle of the room and rest his hands on your hips. He pulled you much closer than youâd been standing before, so much so that you were nearly stepping on his shoes. His hands slid down further and you laughed a little to yourself. This was what you wanted, wasnât it? So you wondered why it didnât feel like something you wanted at all.
You caught Ororoâs gaze from across the room and she smiled, flashing you a thumbs up. When you caught Loganâs gaze, he was anything but smiling. There was a reason you felt like all this was something you didnât want - you knew you wished it was him you were standing with. Still, you werenât sure of why he wouldnât tear his eyes from you or why he had such a scowl on his face.Â
You stopped staring back when your date planted a kiss on your forehead.
âWhat was that for?â
âWell, I kinda wanted to kiss you but I figured maybe goinâ right for the lips might have been too much.â
âWe donât even know each other's names.â
âDo we have to?â
You thought hard for a moment, wondering if Logan was still watching. It wasnât fair to kiss someone just to try to make another person jealous, you knew that. He didnât even have a reason to be jealous.
âYou can kiss me.â
He was an alright kisser - nothing exciting. His lips were soft, though, and you liked the smell of his cologne. Before you could deepen the kiss any further, he was tugged backwards and off of you.
Logan had the back of the poor guy's jacket in his fists, nearly yanking him down to the floor with how much force he used.
âAlright, bub,â he grunted, âI think that's enough, sheâs leavinâ.â
You glared daggers at him with your lips parted in surprise.
âI can leave when I want to,â you said through gritted teeth, âwhat the hell is your problem?â
âIs he your boyfriend?â your date asked, nervously looking between you both.
âHeâs n-â you began to answer and Logan cut you off as he grabbed your arm.
âYeah. Get lost.âÂ
You furrowed your eyebrows in anger but could feel your face becoming warm. You werenât totally sure if you were turning pink from how enraged you were with Logan or from the words that just came out of his mouth.
âOutside. Now,â you demanded, tugging your arm from his grip.
You turned to walk away and he followed as you grumbled to him, holding your dress up a bit so you wouldnât trip as you stomped out.
âWhat the fuck was that?â
He didnât answer, simply following at your heels with his eyes on the marble floor of the corridor. You swung open the door and stepped into the cool summer evening air, waiting until the door shut behind you to speak again.
âWhat, you didnât want me to win the bet?â you guessed with raised eyebrows.
âYouâre really gonna let some guy you donât know shove his tongue in your mouth?â
You stood in stunned silence for a moment.
âAre you kidding? How is that any of your business?â
He scoffed and shook his head.
âI canât believe youâre gonna let some asshole be all over you just âcause he's got money.â
âWhat?â you furrowed your eyebrows, âwhy do you care?â
âWhy donât you? Seriously, youâd just go home with some guy and fuck him?â
âI donât - I donât know,â you stuttered, âmaybe, but that was part of that stupid bet! Not that itâs any of your concern!â
You were nearly shouting at each other.
He clicked his tongue and spoke in a sour tone, ânone of my concern, sure. I didnât think youâd actually try and go home with someone -â
âOkay, you know what?â you threw your hands up in frustration, âI donât know what the hell your problem is or why youâre acting like some jealous boyfriend, but fucking cut it out!â
You were both finally quiet for a moment. The sound of cicadas and crickets songs filled the silence. Loganâs face was pleading, his features highlighted by the soft golden yellow light seeping through the buildingâs windows.
âYou just donât get it, do you?â he mumbled under his breath, his arms crossed over his chest.
You raised your eyebrows, âget what?â
You sounded exasperated, sick of playing what felt like the worst game of twenty questions ever.
Logan brought a hand to his face, scratching at his facial hair - something you recognized as a nervous habit.
âThat stupid fuckinâ notebook, the little one you write in,â he groaned, âI just wish I never read it.â
âSo, youâre mad about that?â You asked, clearly still confused as to what he was trying to say, âlisten, Iâm sorry, it wasnât -â
âNo, no, thatâs not what Iâm saying,â he interrupted, âitâs - fuck, I donât know. I donât know, It's like I read that damn thing and lost my mind.â
You waited for him to elaborate, a puzzled expression still plastered on your face.
âItâs all I can think about, all the time - it's like I close my eyes and I can still see it written down in your chicken scratch. I donât even know what to do, Itâs so stupid,â he huffed.
You still didnât understand what he was trying to tell you or whether he was talking to you or himself.
âAnd then - I donât know, alright - you look soâŚâ he groaned with his face in his hands, âI like you - is that enough? Yaâ get it? I liked you for awhile and then Scott had to go peekinâ through shit that wasnât his and reading that shit you wrote just made it even worse for me. Iâm supposed to read that you wanna âfuck me senselessâ and just let it go? You thought that wasnât gonna do something to me?â
You were slack jawed, feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.
He seemed angry, his nostrils flaring while he held a frown.
âSoâŚyou -âÂ
His hands cupped your face and he leaned down close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your skin.
âSo, I want you to fuck me like you said you wanted to.â
Your eyes grew so wide that you feared they might pop out of your head.Â
âWould you, if I asked?â He continued in a low voice.
Your stomach erupted in butterflies and you nodded without hesitation. Conversations like this with Logan had only ever happened in your dreams.
His lips finally connecting with yours made your head spin. If he wasnât tenderly holding your face, you mightâve just let yourself fall to the ground.
âIâve been thinking about you for months, you know,â he admitted when he pulled away, âwatchinâ when you walk away, thinking about how you say my name, wishing I could just tell yaâ - I didnât have the nerve. Seeinâ you with another guy, though - I couldnât take it anymore. I thought I could and I just can't.â
You almost expected to hear the beeping of your alarm clock that would startle you awake in your bedroom. Still, it never came. You could feel his hot breath on your face, the breeze on your skin, the warmth of his hands; it was all too real.
âYou mean it? All of it?â
You didnât know why your voice sounded so desperate, almost pleading with him not to toy with you.
â âcourse I do. Of course, I mean - god, look at you.â
His mouth was on yours again and you smiled against his lips, your cheeks tinted pink.
âHey, wait,â you pulled away momentarily, âwhy did you agree to that bet in the first place, then?â
He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously.
âI kinda figured you wouldnât be able to find someone good enough, I donât know - maybe I could convince you to come back with me instead.â
âThat was your plan?â you let out a small laugh, smiling so wide that your face began to ache.
âWell, It mightâve worked if you hadnât met whatâs-his-face in there.â
âI donât know his name,â you shrugged, âdidnât care to ask.â
He quirked an eyebrow at you.
âI let him kiss me because I wanted to make you jealous,â you admitted, âI still like you.â
âI know.â
âYou know?â
His expression was as smug as could be.
âThat you still like me? Yeah.â
âHow? Am I that obvious?â
âItâs not your fault,â he shrugged and lowered his voice to a whisper as he put his lips to your ear, âI could smell how wet youâve been all night.â
You swallowed hard and shivered when his hand slid up your back.
âAnd it worked, by the way - Iâm jealous.â
âYeah?â
He nodded and leaned his forehead against yours.
âWell,â you affectionately scratched at the hair at the back of his head, âare you gonna do something about it, then?âÂ
He kissed you with much more fever than before and you caught his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth. His hands were in your hair to push you even further into him to the point he was practically hunched over your body. When you finally took a second to catch your breath, you had a realization.
âI won the bet.â
He furrowed his eyebrows.
âPlease tell me you donât mean youâre actually still gonna go home with that guy.â
âNo,â you rolled your eyes and let out an amused scoff, âI meant you, Logan.â
âMe,â he repeated with a beaming smile, âyouâre coming home with me.â
You nodded and giggled, absentmindedly fixing the hair hanging in front of his forehead.Â
He was staring into your eyes in a way that had you feeling as though there was nothing else around you - no fancy party inside, no responsibility to socialize - just you and Logan in the cool light of the moon. He was studying your face like heâd never see it again if he turned away.
âWhat if I couldnât wait till we got home?â He asked quietly. His warm breath just barely grazed your lips.
Your eyes widened and you thought for a moment, looking between him and the door beside you.
âCâmere,â you instructed simply, taking him by his hand and leading him inside to walk down the main hallway. You scanned the area and once you were sure no one would see either of you, you began trying knobs of different doors to see if one would open. When one finally gave, you slipped inside with Logan in toe and flicked on the lights. It was a small dusty office, one that probably hadnât been used in a few months at the very least.
Neither of you wasted any time in taking advantage of your newfound isolation. Logan was kissing you like he was starving to taste you, working his way down your neck with an open mouth to leave darkening spots slick with his saliva.
âLogan,â you sighed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily from the way he was nipping and sucking at your skin.
âI love when you say my name,â he admitted, mumbling into your neck. His hands were everywhere - tangled in your hair, resting on your waist, your hips, your ass - he was desperate to keep his hands on you now that he had you.Â
You disconnected your lips for a moment so you could hop back to sit up on the top of the desk behind you. You hiked the skirt of your dress above your knees to avoid ripping it and motioned for him to stand between your knees as you held the middle of the skirt down with one hand.
âIâve got an idea for my reward for winning the bet,â you smiled mischievously, leaning up to hold his chin and force him to look you in the eye, âwhat do you say, pretty boy? You wanna be part of it?â
He nodded eagerly and the pace of his breathing increased significantly.
âGood,â you leaned back on one hand, using the other to tug at Loganâs suit jacket, âoff.â
He obeyed without hesitation and shrugged the garment off his shoulders. He began to untuck his shirt and you stopped him with a gentle touch.
âDid I say to take that off too, sweetheart? I donât think I did,â you spoke softly in a firm tone.
âNo - no, maâam.â
It drove you crazy to have him under your thumb in that way, his usual domineering nature and dominance melting away by the second.Â
âSo do as you're told, baby,â you instructed, âif youâre good for me, maybe Iâll reward you back.â
You could see him swallow hard, eyelids nearly fluttering closed when he thought of all the possibilities of what that might entail.Â
âF- mhm, fuck,â he stuttered when you brought a hand to the front of his pants and barely grazed the spot below the button with your fingertips. He began to twitch more and more with every touch.
âAre you gonna say yes?â your voice was near taunting, âor do I have to try a little more convincing?â
You popped the button on the front of his pants with ease and slid your hand underneath to feel him over the soft fabric of his underwear.
âYeah, yes, I - ah, yeah,â he moaned in response, rocking his hips towards your hand and resting his forehead on your shoulder.
âYes what?â
âYes, maâam.â
You smiled and gently kissed his temple.There was something so lovably vulnerable about the way he was acting with you. You knew heâd never let another soul find out that he loved what you did to him - dreaming of you whispering affectionate nicknames and praise as he sloppily pounded into you or spending hours on his sore knees just so he could feel you cum on his face - but the intensity of his devotion bordered otherworldly.Â
âDo me a favor, baby,â you started, lifting your hips for a second to drag your panties down your legs, âtake out your pretty cock for me.â
He obeyed, tugging his pants down his thighs just enough for his already hard dick to spring up out of the confines of his briefs. You inadvertently licked your lips at the sight, thinking of how heavenly heâd feel in you. He was huge, but for a guy whoâs six foot two, it wasnât a surprise.
He stood expectantly between your legs with his hands on your thighs. You leaned back on both hands, cocking your head to the side as you spoke.
âTouch yourself first and maybe Iâll let you touch me.â
The âmaybeâ was a bluff. He knew as well as you did that youâd let him touch you regardless.
âGimme your hand,â you ordered before he could even wrap his fingers around himself. You leaned your mouth over the palm of his hand and spat.
He groaned from the gesture alone, knees nearly buckling when he finally brought his hand down to coat his cock in your saliva.
âFeels good?â You cooed, eyes flickering from his face to his leaking cock in his fist.
âMm - mhm, yeah, âs good,â he panted, âreally fucking good.â
You failed an attempt to hide your wide smile, hypnotized by the repeated motion of his hand. He looked so pretty like this - his jaw hung open, chest heaving while his face became more flushed with every passing second. You could feel the rush of heat in your lower stomach just from watching him.
You couldnât help yourself from leaning forward a little and unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, all while he watched you intently, his breathing becoming heavier the closer your hand came to his.
âThink of you all the time when I do this at home,â he panted, âyouâre so fuckinâ beautiful.â
The compliment made your heart swell; it was a sweet remark that so greatly contrasted the obscene speed of his hand as he stroked himself.Â
âYouâre such a pretty boy,â you whispered and planted a kiss on his pink cheek, âyou look amazing.â
You caught the way the motion of his hand slowed and you couldnât stop yourself from reaching forward and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He growled, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut.
âDonât work yourself up so soon, kitty cat, or youâre gonna be finished before I even get to fuck you,â you murmured into his ear and he gasped as you started to pump him.
âDonât - ah - donât call me that,â he whimpered.
âAw, you donât like it, my pretty kitty?â
He growled again, even more animalistically , but his hips jerking into your hand told you he really didnât hate that nickname as much as he told you he did.
âCâmon, sweetheart,â you continued to tease, âI know you like it - you love beinâ my big, pretty kitty.â
He groaned, lifting his head from your shoulder and crashing his lips into yours.Â
âSh-shut up,â he managed to grunt.
You immediately withdrew your hand and sat back again.
He whimpered from the loss of contact and looked at you with pleading eyes, silently asking why you stopped.
âI said you had to be good for me, didnât I?â you asked.
He nodded, eyes traveling from your thighs, up your body and then back down again.Â
âGood boys donât talk back,â you said simply, raising your eyebrows.
âIâm sorry, Iâll - Iâm good, Iâll behave, just please -â
His speech was cut short when you hiked your dress up even further to expose your bare, wet pussy.
âFucking Christ,â he moaned.
You tugged the top of your dress down to expose your chest and he had to grip the desk you were sitting on so his legs wouldnât give out from under him.Â
âIf you can be real quiet,â you pushed some fallen hair out of his face, âIâll let you cum in me. You want that?â
âPlease, âv been thinking of that for fucking weeks,â he begged, âplease, please, baby.â
He tentatively cupped one of your breasts and you rested your hand atop his, encouraging him to squeeze and knead however he pleased. You spurred him on to the point that he couldnât resist leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking while his fingers toyed with the other one.
You couldnât help whining from the sensation of his mouth on you while you combed your fingers through his hair.
He finally detached himself after ravishing your chest in wet kisses and left a string of saliva connecting his tongue to your nipple. You giggled a little to yourself and crashed your lips into his again in a heated mess of tongues and teeth. You scooted your hips up on the table and used your grip on his cock to graze his tip up against you, making him shudder.
âYouâre so - fuck, youâre such a fuckinâ tease,â he gasped and held your hips in an iron grip.
âWhatâd I say about back talk?â you moved the head of his cock further away from you.
He groaned in frustration, moving his hands to hold your face, âHoney, Iâm already begginâ -Â please, I need you.â
The desperation in his voice made you even wetter.
âI guess youâve been pretty good for me - do you think you deserve it?âÂ
He nodded eagerly and placed his hand over yours that was around him. You let him nudge your hand away to align himself with your entrance. His eyes bore into yours as he finally began to push himself into you, rocking his hips slowly to help you adjust to his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist. When he fully sheathed himself inside of you, he let out a loud moan that echoed through the small space.
âI told you to be quiet, sweetheart,â you whispered into his ear.
âUh-huh, âs a lilâ hard when Iâm fuckinâ a girl Iâve been dreaminâ about for months,â he mumbled, working up a steady pace while you wrapped your legs around him and locked your ankles at the small of his back to help push him further into you.
âYou feel so good, Logan,â you moaned, kissing down his jaw and throat.
He groaned at full volume again.
âAre you gonna stay quiet? or do I have to shut you up? Hm?â you grinned and he made an even louder noise. You reached behind you to find your panties and folded them into a ball, holding his jaw with your other hand.
âOpen.â
He obeyed immediately, rolling his eyes into the back of his head when you stuffed them into his open mouth.
âGood kitty.â
He let out a muffled growl and the speed of his hips increased.
âYeah,â you panted, âI know you like that.â
The angle at which he was fucking you made it so that he was hitting the sensitive spot inside of you over and over again, making you gasp each time. Sweat was forming on his neck and down both your chests, practically sticking your skin together in the hot, stuffy room.
âYouâre - youâre so pretty,â you told him truthfully, admiring the rosey tint of his face and the drool that was starting to run down from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed and he started to thrust into you hard enough to shake the desk you were sitting on.Â
âEasy, kitty cat - youâre gonna break somethinâ,â you muttered into the hot skin of his neck with a smug smile on your face.
His pace didnât falter in the slightest, his hands gripping your ass to push you towards him every time he slammed his hips forward. The fabric of your panties muffled the guttural moan he choked on when you lightly sunk your teeth into his shoulder. He slid his hand between your bodies to bring his thumb to your clit, working tight circles around the bundle of nerves in rhythm with the thrust of his hips.
âFuck, fuck, I-â you were speechless, at a loss for words from the brutal combination of the pressure he applied with his fingers and the way he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, still whining and growling like an animal into the fabric of your underwear. You felt the heat in your lower stomach start to build and you buried your face in his shoulder, your mascara smudged under your eyes.
âLogan, Logan, Iâm - ah - âm gonna come,â you warned, tugging on the back of his hair.
He groaned and yanked the fabric out of his mouth, immediately bringing his lips to yours so he could tenderly make out with you while the squelching sound of your dripping cunt filled the room.Â
âCâmon,â he growled into your mouth, âcâmon, baby, please.â
Both your chins were slick with each other's saliva from the frantic way youâd smashed your lips together. Your whining and pleading became louder with every roll of his hips until the sensation sent you over the edge, euphoria blossoming from your lower stomach and spreading all throughout your body.
âOh my god, Logan,â you nearly yelled, your hands slipping under his open shirt to scratch down his back, âs-so good. I love you.â
The three words slipped out without hesitation and your eyes widened, mild humiliation replacing the fading feeling of your orgasm.
His hips rutted against yours when you spoke and he leaned his face down so he was nose to nose with you.
âLove you so much.â
He kissed you softly with both his hands on your cheeks, so filled with affection that you couldâve cried. He slid his hands down back to your hips and kept his forehead against yours as he continued to drill into you.
âI donât - I donât ever wanna see yaâ with anybody else,â he panted, âI needed yaâ so bad. You - ah - yaâ drive me crazy.â
Even after having already came, his pussy-drunk rambling still spawned butterflies in the pit of your stomach.
âYouâll never see me with someone else, baby - promise. âs always been you. Only ever really wanted you,â you admitted with a soft voice.
His thrusts became sloppy and you could tell that spurring him on with your words would make him finish just as quickly as you did.
âIâm yours, always have been,â you whispered in his ear, âyouâre the only one Iâve ever thought about fucking me like this.â
He choked out a sob into your shoulder and came with an animalistic growl, looking down to watch the mess being made all over your inner thighs.
âLove you so fucking much,â he repeated with a sigh, slowly stopping the thrust of his hips and resting his head against yours again.
âI love you, too,â you replied and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.
âSorry I made such a mess of yaâ,â he apologized, spreading your thighs as he pulled out, âIâll clean yaâ up when weâre home, I swear.â
âIâll hold you to it,â you chuckled, readjusting your dress and slipping your underwear back on while Logan tucked himself back into his pants and buttoned his shirt.
You caught a glimpse of the watch on his wrist as he moved and grabbed his hand so you could see the time.
âShit! We were supposed to meet everyone back out front ten minutes ago,â you realized aloud, slipping yourself off the desk and pulling your dress down.
He mirrored your haste and let you fix his hair, doing the same for you and wiping away the mascara under your eyes.
âOkay, okay, câmon,â you insisted, opening the door and slipping out hand in hand. You scurried down the abandoned corridor and all the way to the front exit. When Logan pushed open the door, you were met with Jean, Scott, and Ororo standing with worried expressions.
âWhat happened to you guys?â Scott asked before Jean nudged him in the arm, pointing towards your intertwined hands.
You looked towards where she was pointing and back up again, âOh, uhâŚâ
You tried to think of an excuse and looked to Logan beside you for help.Â
âNothinâ,â he said in a nonchalant manner, âjust got lost around the place - lotâs of rooms in there.â
Ororo raised her eyebrows suspiciously.Â
âSure, and, uh - Is that why youâre holding hands?â
You laughed a little, tugging his hand behind your back.
âWell,â you started, âremember I said Iâd try to bag a guy tonight? Um-â
âIâve been bagged,â Logan interrupted with a huge, smug grin.
âI wasnât gonna put it like that,â you insisted, âbut - yeah.â
âFinally,â Jean huffed and rolled her eyes, âI thought weâd have to have an intervention.â
âHuh?â Logan narrowed his eyes.
âOh, câmon,â Ororo laughed, âwe all knew you liked each other, even before you did.âÂ
âAnd you never said anything?â Logan asked.
âNeither of you ever believed us!â
âTrue,â you agreed with a shrug and giggle.Â
âI believe you now,â he stated, still holding your hand as you all made your way into the night, âShe might like me. Just a little bit.â
âŚâ˘ÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇâ˘âŚâ˘ÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇÂˇâ˘âŚ
A/N: Thank you so much if you read till the end :) !! I did get stuck with some writers block in the middle of this and I'm not completely fulfilled w it but if I kept working on it it may take another week and my brain can't do it
Still working on requests rn so if you sent one in, I haven't forgotten about you!!! I'm trying to do two at a time so I can keep up (I won't burn myself out dw I usually do nothing all day till I work in the afternoon) <3
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fic#logan howlet smut#logan wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine fic#wolverine smut#deadpool and wolverine
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Domestic head cannons and mini fic with katsuki bakugo<3
Katsuki bakugo x reader
just some cute little head cannons to make people feel better about the fanfic I wrote not 20 mins agođ
He will lay in bed and just watch you sleep, just because heâs loud and normally mean doesnât mean he doesnât wanna be gentle for once and watch his baby sleep peacefully:((
If you make his lunch for work before he goes off for hero duty he will be forever grateful, I mean you just showed how much you care about him by making him food!
will 100% ask for kids once you two are a little older, around 25 maybe
helps with the chores no matter how busy he was that day.
He loves a good cuddle on the couch
âIâm home dumbass!â
doesnât mind if you become a stay at home partner to look after the home, he makes a ton off hero work.
Came home with a cat one day from work and you two named him dumbass because he bangs his head into things, bakugo regularly compares him to Izuku.
will sit there and help you fold clothes while you tell him about your day
if your afab he will do all the chores and let you rest while on your period
showers and baths together when he can, heâll let you wash his hair while he lays on your chest in the bathtub but he grumbles about doing it himself even though he loves it
Regularly has to go find little things off his hero costume because 9/10 youâve stolen his mask or his shirt off the costume
doesnât realise dumbass the cat is a girl and then panics when she goes into heat and starts meowing everywhere and does that weird pose (iykyk)
â*NAME* WHY IS DUMBASS PUTTING HER ASS IN THE AIR THIS IS SO WEIRDâ
plans proposing to you with kirishima, he wants it to be perfect
Bakugo opened the door, the hinges squeaking âdumbass Iâm home!â He called out, no malice behind his normally rude nickname. You rushed down the stairs, the sound of your feet on carpets next to the jingles of a cat collar. The little white cat peeking its head past a wall to check who was at the door before you walked past and hugged bakugo âI got take outâ you grinned âshit where was my hello?â Bakugo smirked down at you, before you pecked him on the lips âhello katsukiâ
#mha#bnha#my hero academia#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugo fanfic#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugo imagine#katsuki bakugo fluff#bakugou katsuki#kacchan#dynamight#deku#katsuki bakugo#bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou#izuku#bakugo katsuki#mha fluff#mha x reader#mha bakugou#my hero acadamy#boku no hero academia#bnha bakugou#bnha x reader#my hero acedamia#bnha spoilers#mha headcanons#bnha headcannons
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.......Sooooooooooo this may have gotten a little out of hand.....annnnnd I wrote this on my phone so please excuse any mistakes please.
Scanning...
...Scanning...
...No signs of life confirmed...
...Scanning...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
... Initializing death protocol...
Launching death marker
Initializing upload of host's data...
Upload complete.
Initializing return home protocol...
Entering stand by state....
.....
........
...........Charge complete........
Initializing host search...
...Searching...
......Searching......
..........Searching........
Matching power wave length found.
Scanning new host.
Scan complete.
Searching universal data base for preexisting matching genetic markers.
Match found.
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age: Adolescent
Unique identifying markers: blue eyes, black ha-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
... Scanning....
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
... Initializing death protocol...
...Charge 100%...
...Bypassing return home protocol...
Initializing host search...
....Searching...
........Searching......
Matching power wave length found.
Scanning new host.
Scan complete.
Species: Human
Gender: Mal-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...Scanning...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...Scanning...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Initializing host search...
Matching power wave length found.
Scanning host.
Scan complete.
Species: Hum-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...Scanning...
Initializing host search...
Matching power wave length found.
Scanning host.
Scan com-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Initializing host search...
Matching power wave length found.
Scan-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Initializing host search...
Matching power wave-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Accessing universal records.
Searching for instances in mass host's deaths.
Adjusting parameters with key phrases: "lab" "experiments" "subjects"
42 matching records.
Override "Never again" activated.
The safety of host has been made prime objective.
30% of power is being redirected to emergency beacon.
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
40% of power is being redirected to emergency beacon.
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Message received from home data base.
"Use of extreme force is authorized. Protect your host at all costs. Hold till backup arrives."
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Message received from Lantern: "Hal Jordan".
"Where are you?! Tell us where you are!"
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Message received from Lantern: "John Stewart".
"Can you hear us? If you can please tell us anything about where you are!"
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Power levels dropping.
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
73%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
65%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
43%
Unable to continue broadcasting emergency beacon.
Rerouting all remaining power to protect host.
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
26%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
12%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
10%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
8%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
5%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
2%
...Unable to continue protection of host...
.....Entering stand by mode...
........
..............
........................
....Charging....
........Charging 10%......
.............Charging 25%..........
Within acceptable power levels to resume basic functions.
Analyzing....
Power source is not coming from Latern source...
Analyzing....
Power source is coming from host?
Searching universal data base...
No known instances of "humans" recharging a Latern ring without corresponding medium.
Searching....
Existence of "metas" explains variation within human host.
Searching universal data base...
97 known cases of Lantern hosts using their own will power to recharge Latern rings...
Calculating...
76% chance of death.
84% decrease in life expectancy.
Average life expectancy of Humans 70-100 "year".
Human host does not have any time to-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...100% Charging complete...
...no...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...NO...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
NO!
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
......
.............
.......................
...............................
HOST MUST LIVE
............................................
.........................................................
....................................................................
Data received from home data base.
New species entry.
"Ecto-entities"
"Ghost"
"Halfa"
Host has been reclassified under new species tag.
Species: Halfa
Gender: Male
Age: Adolescent
Unique identifying markers: blue eyes, black hair /green eyes, white hair.
Home planet: Earth
Home galaxy: Sol system
Name: Daniel "Danny" Fenton / Phantom
Message received from host:
"I'm sorry I scared you. Thank you for trying to look out for me. From now on, let's both look out for each other okay?"
Override "Never again" has been set to permanent.
...Okay. This time I will make sure that nothing hurts host again...
Due to his unrelenting determination to keep his town safe, Danny is bestowed a green lantern ring. Which on one hand: Yay! He gets to explore space full time. But on the other hand: Ew! he's a space cop now.
He had to rectify this immediately or he would never hear the end of it from his ghost friends. Or his regular friends for that matter. Sayyy, it'd be a shame if he.... bent a few rules. Maybe even broke some of them every now and again. And it would surely be a tragedy if say.... random pranks started happening around Oa?
#dpxdc#look at this plot bunny go#this got really out of hand#i head cannon that danny ring#was from tarkus whin#thematically it works really well#tarius whin died really young in a black hole#Danny also died really young#and he loves space#parallels!#not mentioned here is the GL absolutely losing their minds#and Danny having no idea that his ring is sentient#sort of#Danny just thought it was a cursed ghost ring#until the Latern corps descended on him like a hoard a avenging green angels#danny fenton#hal jordan#john stuart#if it was a little confusing#the ring thought it had somehow stimbled into a trap#where humans were trying to force bond a ring to its host#to create green lanterns that they can control#it matches other similar instances in the past#it thought that all of its hosts where experimental subjects#and that one of them died trying to recharge it#i head cannom that even though the ring can sense everything going on around it#it processing it very differently than we would#like everything is going on in the room next door#but its so loud that the ring is still picking things up#even as it tries to do its own seperate thing
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so which characters do you personally head cannon to have wings
Other than Grian, the only other hermit/life series character that I headcanon as having wings is Cub! Although he keeps them tucked away most of the time. He and Scar are both infused with Vex magic, but Scar got his wings removed at some point.
As for commonly headcanoned wing havers, here's my headcanons:
False is completely human so has never had wings. But I feel like if she made a statue or painting of herself it would have wings (long way of saying her fursona is a bird of some sort)
Jimmy has some unwelcome watcher traits that he tries to ignore. Though he doesn't have wings (yet...) he does occasionally wake up from confusing prophetic doom dreams surrounded by feathers
Skizz is (surprisingly!) human. However he got wing tattoos based on a joke about being the angel to Impulse's devil. Which Impulse thinks is hilarious (he doesn't)
Ok and then Grian...oh boy I have a mile long list of headcanons on watcher/evo lore that I will SOME DAY get into, maybe, but its like. Its just so much and made purely for an audience of one haha. LONG STORY SHORT: he used to be human, became a watcher, now has light shapeshifting powers where he can shift between his old human form and his true watcher form. He choses a form that's in between, to his liking. Here's some rough designs of how his wings are attached and my continued attempts to nail down a bird feet design that I like đľâđŤ
#mega long post oh my lord#cubfan135#grian#skizzleman#impulsesv#hermitcraft headcanons#adina123#caloask#calocraft
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Romance ClichĂŠs With: Idia Shroud
ClichĂŠ: The Dramatic Save
Others: Leona ; Vil ; Azul ; Kalim ; Jamil ; Riddle
The thing about Idia is that heâs very used to lurking in the background. Life is much simpler that way. But ever since youâd started spending more time with him, heâd found himself in the wildest, most "otome game" situations imaginable. And today? Today topped them all.
Youâd been standing together in the courtyard, him telling you about his latest game finds, hands shoved into his pockets as he tried not to fidget too much. It was rare he got to hang out with someone he, uh, actually wanted to hang out with, so his nerves were pinging off the charts.
Thatâs when it happened.
With zero warning, a large, heavy textbook teetered off the edge of a windowsill above and began its rapid descent towards Idiaâs head. He didnât notice; he was too busy stammering about his latest high score. But you did.
In one swift move, you threw yourself across the space between you and practically flew through the air, hands outstretched like some overdramatic action hero.
You managed to get between him and the descending missile (okay, just a textbook, but in the moment, it was deadly), and though the impact wasnât as dramatic as youâd pictured, you still managed to shield him with your entire being, shoving him safely aside.
By the time he realized what was going on, you were already fussing over him. âOh my gosh, are you okay?! Did it hit you anywhere?â
He blinked, processing what just happened as you started checking his head for bumps, squinting at his shocked face. âUh⌠w-what?â he stammered, brain catching up about three seconds too late. âDid⌠did you just⌠jump in front of me?â The look of awe on his face was equal parts adorable and ridiculous.
âWell, obviously!â You laughed, still fussing, hands on his shoulders. âAre you alright?â
Idiaâs mouth opened and closed as he tried to process the sheer amount of romance that just smacked him in the face. You, his crush, his dream come to life, had gone full protagonist, for him. It was like the best tropes had all collided in his brain at once, and it was overwhelming in the best way possible.
âN-No oneâs ever done something like that⌠f-for meâŚâ he mumbled, cheeks reddening as he stared at you with this helpless, smitten look.
You tilted your head, a soft smile crossing your face. âWell, Iâd do it again if it meant keeping you safe, Idia.â
Somewhere in his brain, the confetti cannons were going off. The âlove meterâ hit max. The screen flashed âTRUE ENDINGâ in bold, sparkly letters. He knew it was all real, but a tiny part of him felt like heâd accidentally triggered some hidden route with a secret character, and that character was you.
And before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush. âI think Iâm in love with you. Like, maybe have been for a while. Youâre like, the one or something, andâoh my god, why am I saying this out loudââ
He clamped a hand over his mouth, wide-eyed, as if he could just take it back if he tried hard enough. But instead, he saw you looking at him, your smile widening as you took his hand, gently pulling it down.
âYou mean it?â you asked, a bit of awe creeping into your voice.
He couldnât look at you, his eyes darting everywhere except your face as he mumbled, âY-Yeah, I mean, yeah, I do. I canât believe youâre real, honestly, this feels like a fever dream, butââ
Before he could talk himself out of it, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, quick and sweet. It was enough to short-circuit his brain, and when you pulled back, he just blinked, stunned, frozen like his internal processing unit had just maxed out.
âDoes that answer your question?â you teased, unable to hold back a little laugh at his flustered expression.
âUh-huh,â he finally managed, a dopey smile creeping onto his face as his brain rebooted. âY-Yeah⌠yes.â He cleared his throat, trying to seem cooler, but the blush on his cheeks was a dead giveaway.
And as you both stood there, your hands still linked, he felt like the luckiest player in the worldâlike heâd stumbled upon the rarest, sweetest route of them all, and he wasnât letting go anytime soon.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#idia x reader#idia shroud x reader#idia shroud x you#idia shroud#twst idia#idia
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This is based off one of ur spencer dating head cannons.. perhaps they are going to a celebratory something at rossiâs and reader wears like a really pretty short dress and its just spencer stumbling over his words in awe and its a cute little moment ^_^? Lmk.
Always Forever â Spencer Reid.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: After being invited to David Rossiâs annual get-together, courtesy of your boyfriend, youâre very excited to go. However, Spencer just seems to stand there and gawk.
Word Count: 690+
Disclaimer/s â Fluff! Thatâs it. Bless.
A/N: This had me seriousing up quick âcause are we kidding.
A get-together at the David Rossiâs house. You didnât exactly know him that well, though you were quite familiar with everybody else. When Spencer came home and informed you of the invitation, you accepted without further thought.
You carefully readjusted the straps of your dress, turning to admire how you looked in the mirror.
It wasnât anything too elaborate; it reached just above your knee, and the color complemented you perfectly, making you feel gorgeous. Youâd probably wear the dress more often if you had the opportunity. You never did before. But now you do, and you fully intend to make the most of it.
You hear Spencer call out for you, prompting you to quickly grab your lipgloss and rush out of the bathroom, exclaiming, âIâm here! Iâm ready!â
Turning the corner, youâre met with your boyfriend in his usual attire: a button-up shirt, a tie, and a cardigan thrown over his shoulders, paired with his regular pants. As you move to retrieve your clutch, youâre quick to compliment him, âHey, you look handsome. New cardigan?â
No response. Your eyebrows furrow, âSpencer?â
Whipping around to look at him, you nearly fold at the sight of him just looking at you. But his eyes are soft, his lips are parted, and his cheeks are flushedâso, how couldnât you?
âSpencer Reid,â you drawled, walking toward him. You lift a hand to his forehead, âAre you okay? Are you feeling sick? Warm? If so, itâs the cardigan.â
Your hands on him seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in. âWhatâoh! No, I, uh, Iâm fine. Not warm at all. Are you⌠ready?â
Hearing him stumble over his words wasnât new to you, but hearing him do it so much in the same sentence piqued your curiosity. âAre you ready?â
âOf course, do I not look ready?â
âI think you look ready,â a moment passes, âIâm just asking if you are ready. Are you sure youâre not feeling under the weather?â
âI think you look beautiful,â he blurts out, the tips of his ears turning a deep shade of red. You smile, and itâs so, so genuine that it erases any doubts he mightâve had about taking it back or blaming it on a slip of the tongue. It wasnât that. Never.
If there was one thing he knew, it was that saying that was not, and never would be, an accidentâ
Before he can even fully register the sensation of your lips on his, a smile spreads across his face, deepening the kiss. His body leans toward you, and his hands glide tenderly from your jaw to cup your cheeks. The second you pull back, he chases after your lips, making you laugh, âThank you.â
He doesnât want to hear it when his lips find yours once more, your smile widening.
âSpencer, weâreââ you pull away, only to lean in for another, âYou're going toââ you steal another, âmake us late. Isnât he really strict about times?â
Your boyfriend lets out a soft hum against your mouth, then finally breaks away for real this time and huffs, âMorgan and JJ are late all the time.â
âHey, donât sulk. They probably have a reason. Come on, Iâm excited! Doesnât he always correct you guys when you call his house a, well, house?â
He grabs the clutch from your hands. Spencer then nods and picks up his keys, opening the front door of his apartment and standing there, knowing how you like to exit first. âClaims itâs a mansion,â he says with a soft smile.
âClaims? Is it not?â
With a shrug of his shoulders, he closes the door behind him. A small chuckle escapes his lips when he notices you looking up at him, eyebrows knitted together in complete confusion, still waiting for an answer to your question.
Pressing a quick kiss to your temple, he nods. âYes,â the brunette retorted, âIt is a mansion.â
Once you reach the stairwell, you interlace your arm with his. In a playful tone, you ask, âDo you think heâd be up for giving us a house tour?â
He rolls his eyes with amusement at that, âI guess youâre just going to have to ask.â
Now itâs your turn to huff, âI guess so.â
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) â @pedrilcvr ! ๨ŕ§
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds comfort#request#jilval#always forever - cults
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Mammon head cannons
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I feel like mammon is totally prone to night terrors about loosing you and his brothers, normally waking up in a cold sweat. After literally having you head in his arms, he is horrified that it will happen again. While in bed, he will grip you tightly in his sleep, almost scared you will disappear again. Once awoken from one of these night terrors, he will stay in bed with you, head buried in your shoulder while his hand rests over your heart, or silently get out of bed and check on everyone. He hates seeing his family hurt.
Why do I feel like he has a split tounge. He got it medically done a couple hundred years ago and he thinks its a cool party trick. When asked if he would ever do it again, he says he would but in reality, he would probably never do it again. The healing process sucked, his tounge aching and in alot of pain while it healed, not being able to eat solid food for a while, having a constant headache, he wouldn't do it again.
Loves to have matching items with you <3 Weather it be a phone case, small rings, earrings, a necklace, loom band bracelets, outfits, nails, whatever. He loves matching with you though he never admits it was his idea. He HIGHLEY hinted at it until you said it first, which he agreed to almost immediately after abit of talking.
Is like a puppy whenever your up in the human world, sighing and laying around while he waits for you in his free time. He still goes to RAD, gamble, cause trouble, but whenever he has time to himself or doesn't have to focus on more things, your swarming his head. So happy once your back in devildom
So many rings, either got the idea from Asmodeus or it was trendy ages ago and it stuck with him forever. He has both silver and gold rings on almost all fingers, though he has once small home-made ring made from the handle of a spoon that you made him that he always keeps on his ring finger. Don't look into it too much human!
He loves seeing his pact mark on you, it gives him a small comfort. His mark is right on your left wrist, its easy to spot but also easy to hide. He enjoys just tracing it while you both are studying, doing it absent mindedly while he slightly zones out. If you mention it, he will blush deeply and move away, flustered while denying ever doing it
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Sorry this was short, my first post on this account! What would you guys like to see next?
#valer1esgallery#obey me nightbringer#obey me shall we date#obey me#obey me swd#obey me!#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#obey me x you#obey me x y/n#obey me mammon x reader#obey me mammon x mc#obey me mammon x you#obey me headcanons
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⌝ Creepypasta Headcannons pt. 1 ⌝
Warnings: sfw, fluff, Mentions of gore, slight nsfw, slight angst, Multiple characters
Disclaimer: these are just a few head cannons I have for some of the creepy pastas, i'll probably make more head cannons on these characters again sometime!!
Jeff The Killer
đŞ very impatient and hotheaded, making talking to him not the easiest
𩸠has a bit of a southern accent - more noticeable when he gets mad and starts yelling
đ never really apologized to liu but they still talk a little bit but he wishes they could be as close as they were when they were younger
đŤ Prop has many one night stands an isn't really interested in having a serious relationship with anyone
đŞ Doesn't like people arguing or loud noises so he always has headphones on him just in case he needs to cancel noise out
𩸠doesn't like people touching him especially when hes overwhelmed and if people do he usually get very triggered and flips out on people leaving him feeling guilty especially if its liu
đ sometimes asks liu if he could sleep in his bed with him because his nightmares get really bad sometimes
đŤ favorite slasher movie is scream and one-time he dressed up as ghost face for Halloween and went out scaring little kids
đŞ he's actually really into the gyaru and y2k fashion but he will never admit it
.
Toby Rogers
đŞ Likes painting his nails different colors - its something he used to do with Lyra so he likes having his nails painting almost constantly
đ Doesn't like the nickname "ticci toby" because hes insecure of his tics especially when hes meeting new people and he has to explain his tourettes to them
đĽ Has more of a western emo type of style
đď¸ Doesn't like to be around people who are drunk because it reminds him of his dad
đŞ Has to cut his hair very often because it grows super fast and it gets super curly and out of control
đ likes when people he's close to pat his back or caress his hands when he's stressed to calm him down
đĽ wears a bunch of Lyra's old jewelry even though they are girly he doesn't really care
đď¸ Sees Tim and Brian kind of like father figures and is really close with them and often comes to them for advice
đŞ LOVES tim Burton films like he watches them year round, his favorite one is Edward Scissorhands
.
Ben Drowned
đŽ Has a terrible water phobia and gets mad when anyone jokes about it
đ§ Doesn't really enjoy energy drinks to much but he does drink them if he wants to have extra energy (like he needs it)
đš Really misses his life as a normal kid and wishes he could've experienced a normal teenage life
đž Loves um gardening if yk what i mean
đŽ Smokes with Jeff a lot so there kinda close
đ§ Doesn't really sleep because he's a ghost and because he has nightmares of drowning so he usually doesn't unless he's mentally exhausted which is a lot of the time
đš he definitely bully's kids on Roblox and then hacks there account once they say something rude back
đž HATES the perv allegations like so what if he has pictures of woman in his drawer like.. ( no I'm joking please don't get mad :) )
đŽ Sometimes hides in different electronics when he needs a break from everything
.
Bloody Painter
đ¨ very soft spoken and doesn't really enjoy having conversations with others unless there close which it takes a long time for him to open up to people
𩸠Doesn't really see himself as a serial killer only as an artist
đď¸ gets aggravated easily with the other pastas so he usually traps himself in his room until hes hungry and needs to eat which he sometimes forgets to do if hes really into a painting hes working on
đ§ He likes more classical music especially when hes painting he also really enjoys jazz music
đ¨ He doesn't like when people use his name because he doesn't like thinking about his past which his name reminds him of it
𩸠Not a huge fan of screaming so he Usually cuts his victims throats first so they cant scream plus he also gets a lot of blood for his paintings this way
đď¸ He enjoys drinking wine every now and then
đ§ The thought of having a partner scares him a lot since he probably has really bad attachment issues
đ¨ can come of as rude and cold but he really just doesn't want to come of as sensitive and soft
Okay that's it for now hope you enjoyed!! I'll def do more of these with other creepypastas just request any if there's anyone you want me to do cuz I'll probably do the more popular ones first but I def wanna do the more underrated ones too!!
OKAY BYE BYE!!!
#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta#jeff the killer#jeff the killer x reader#toby rogers#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby#ben drowned#ben drowned x reader#headcanon#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta headcanon#helen otis#bloody painter#bloody painter x reader#marble hornets#creepypasta scenarios
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You wonât do it, no balls (like curly).
Jimmy x co captain Y/N smut, or head cannons NSFW and SFW. Anyways you ate your last Jimmy fic!
Jimmy Headcanons ! (NSFW & SFW)
c/w - jimmy being jimmy
a/n - thinking abt doin headcannons for all of the mouthwashing crew.... lmk if that would be something you guys would wanna see... also sorry about this being so short.
wc - 408
(image not mine)
Safe For Work Headcanons !
huge on pda! always has a hand on your waist or the small off your back or an arm around you. not really in a cutesy "i love my partner so much i need everyone to know how much i love them" way but more in a "i need to keep my dog on a leash" kind of way.
contrary to popular belief, i think he is actually very well groomed. he thinks very highly of himself so i think it would only make sense that he wants to make himself appear extremely put together.
uses cremo's 'bourbon vanilla' bodywash and their ' spice and black vanilla' cologne.
love language is definitely acts of service or gift giving.
he hates telling you that he loves you because it makes him feel like you have a level of control over him and he can't stand it. however, he is constantly doing things for you.
your car needs repairs? he's under the hood. you need help moving something? he's doing it by himself and will NOT let you help.
smokes camel crushes. used to use chewing tabaco because pony express doesn't allow cigarettes onto the ship due to them being fire hazards, but stopped after realizing you could taste it in his mouth. now he just uses nicotine patches while on the ship.
listens to divorced dad rock. think hinder, theory of a deadman, my darkest days.
much bigger fan of cats than he is of dogs.
Not Safe For Work Headcanons !
slightly above average dick size, not huge though. quite girthy, though.
not a fan of you riding him, he says it doesn't feel as good as missionary or doggy but in reality it makes him feel emasculated having you on top of in a 'position of power'.
a huge sadist (shocker). he's constantly spanking or hitting or pulling hair.
LOVES making you cry during sex. whether its from overstimulation or just straight pain, it doesn't matter.
really big on choking too.
not very big on bondage or restraining you. he likes to feel you grabbing at him and writhing around under him. it gives him a huge ego boost to know that he doesn't have to tie you down to keep you from squirming away.
bites and leaves hickeys frequently. he enjoys the thought of there being physical marks on your body that show that you're his.
very vocal in bed. he's not necessarily *loud* perse but he talks and groans a ton.
#laine lamenting#mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#mouthwashing fandom#mouthwashing curly#jimmy mouthwashing#mouthwashing jimmy#mouthwashing game#anya mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing daisuke#mouthwashing anya#jimmy x reader#headcanons
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I Knew You
Summary: You and Steve Harrington have hated each other ever since sixth grade, which made living next door to him all the more miserable. It hadn't always been like that though, shared smiles and loving gestures in secret before popularity went to his head. But now, Steve somehow keeps finding ways to squeeze himself back into your life, making you question if the boy you once knew, the one you might have loved, still lived somewhere within him.
Note: Its been a bit since I last posted, but I had this idea and really wanted to write it. I'm currently drowning with work and school stuff for my masters so my next fic might take a hot minute and will definitely be shorter. This takes place in the fall after season 4 and both Eddie and Max survived with minimal injuries. Itâs also partially inspired by Cardigan by Taylor Swift, hence the lyrics as chapter titles. This ended up being way longer than I intended for it to be, but I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: 18+, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as Baby), smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), enemies to lovers, language, mentions of blood/injuries, some cannon divergence, fluff, angst, slowburn.
Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader
Word count: 30.5k (I got carried away)
I knew Iâd curse you for the longest time
The last salt of the summer air lazed its way through the breeze, picking up the fresh fallen leaves with it. There wasnât enough foliage on the ground to worry about raking them just yet, but it still brought a chill down your spine at the thought of autumnâs rapid approach. You were sitting on the window bench in your room with a book in your hands and your back against the wall as the breeze floated through the open window, making the curtains dance despite being drawn back. It was a moment of quiet, something you desperately needed.
You were lost in words on the page before you, taking them in sentence after sentence, until the loud slam of a door interrupted your trance. The sound of the door was followed by singing, loud and obnoxious singing. More specifically, Steve Harringtonâs loud and obnoxious singing. He had just strolled into his room, playing air guitar along to whatever metal song he was bellowing. A metal song that you presumed Eddie had played so many times on the tape player in his van that it somehow ingrained itself into Steveâs pop-hits brain.Â
You sighed, shaking your head to try and brush off the noise as if this was a daily occurrence. Well, it almost was, in some form or another. You lived next door to Steve Harrington for as long as you could remember. Your bedroom windows faced each other too, allowing each of you to gain small, often unwelcome, glimpses into the otherâs life. Just about every girl in school had come up to you at least once to tell you how lucky you were to have such an easy way to see Steve Harrington. Then theyâd always proceed to ask if they could join you for a sleepover at your house, no doubt just to get a chance to spy on the boy in his natural habitat.Â
Your eyes flitted back down to the page, stuck on the same sentence ever since your ears were met with the unwelcome disturbance that was Steve Harringtonâs singing. Heâd moved on from singing to vocalizing the songâs guitar solo, which was somehow even more annoying. Steveâs arms moved wildly up and down his fake guitar as he banged his head up and down. If you werenât so annoyed youâd honestly be impressed by the amount of endurance Steveâs performance surely required. But you were annoyed. Annoyed enough to finally speak up.Â
âDo you constantly have to make so much noise or do you just like to hear the sound of your own voice?â your remark rang out through the open window, trickling through the air to reach Steveâs room. You didnât look up from your book, doing your best to look unbothered. Steve stopped singing and thrashing about. His heavy breaths evened out slightly before he responded, slowly approaching the window sill.
âDo you constantly have a stick up your ass or do you just like to pretend that you do?â your eyes widened at that, putting your book to the side as you turned to face the window, to face Steve. He had a smirk on his lips, one that you were more than familiar with by now. It was the smirk he flashed each time he said something that he knew would piss you off. Quite frankly, it was the expression you were most familiar with seeing Steve wear at this point in your life.Â
âIf thereâs a stick up my ass then it's only because you put it there,â it was a lame comeback. You knew it. Steve knew it. But they canât all be winners. You winced as the words fell from your lips, waiting for Steveâs retaliation, which was sure to be unsavory.
âI donât recall ever doing that. But Baby, if you bend over Iâd be more than happy to oblige,â Steve's smirk grew wider. Whether it was the stupid nickname or the sexual nature of his response that caused the flash of his pearly teeth, you didnât know. However, you did know that you hated it, all of it. You hated that you constantly walked right into his dumb little comebacks. You hated that he seemingly had an endless supply of them just for you. You hated the day that the stupid nickname was ever aimed in your direction and you hated that Steve Harrington was the one to do it.Â
It was late September 1978. Summer was still putting up a fight, albeit a weak one, to keep its warmth in the air. It had rained the night before, washing away the fresh fallen leaves to get stuck in the gutters along the roof or in the storm drains beside the narrow streets. School had only started back up a few weeks ago, and somehow, Steve found himself climbing the popularity ranks. It was a big deal for a sixth grader whoâd only just begun his journey at Hawkins Middle to be so admired so fast, but Steve was already starting to see people worship the ground he walked on. He liked the idea of it, that he could waltz through the door of some place and up and run it so soon. His dad always said that the Harringtons were winners, and Steve knew he would be nothing if he disappointed his dad.Â
Steve was walking to school that morning, Tommy and Carol to his left as a group full of his classmates followed closely behind. It was as if Steve had his very own entourage. They were a few blocks from the school when he saw it, a bike abandoned on the grass next to the sidewalk. There was a backpack beside it too, laying face down as if it had been thrown off in haste. It didnât take long for Steve to realize why the bike before him looked so familiar. It was the same one he had seen you on almost every day that summer. The bike you rode to the library, to Loverâs Lake, to the movie theater, to the quarry. As long as it was a place with a good story waiting to be watched or read, or a quiet environment to immerse yourself in a good book, someone was sure to find you there with that bike.Â
Steve panicked for a moment, preparing himself to run to the police station and report that you had been kidnapped. But then he looked up. You were hunched over the sidewalk a few yards up, picking at something on the surface of the cement. Steveâs legs moved, the others following, and stopped once again, this time only a few feet from where you sat on the sidewalk. Steveâs brows furrowed as he looked down, finally getting a good look at what you were doing.Â
You sat there, slowly and gently peeling the dried worms from the sidewalk. Then you parted the grass next to the sidewalk, putting the worm down to get it as close to the soil as possible. Steve watched you curiously as you moved on to the next worm. It was then that the breeze picked up a bit, shifting away the hair that covered your face. Steve saw it, the tear tracks running down your cheeks as you struggled with the worms that Steve was sure were already dead. A few chuckles sounded from the group behind Steve, and suddenly he remembered that it was not just you and him on that sidewalk.
You too had suddenly become aware of your audience then, head snapping up to see the group in front of you. Your eyes landed on Steve. His expression was etched with empathy, an emotion Steve still held onto no matter how much Tommy tried to strip it from him in his sudden rise to king status. At that moment you didnât care about the others or the tears that still leaked down your soft cheeks. You cared about the poor worms that stuck to the sidewalk. Your gaze landed on Steve, appealing to the boy who lived beside you for so many years.
âThe rain,â you sniffled and Steveâs heart ached at the sound. Heâd seen you cry before, as he was sure you had seen him cry too, through the cracks in the curtains obscuring bedroom windows. Each time Steve had to stop himself from marching over to your house and wrapping you in a comforting hug. It was an urge that he still had to repress, even here and now. âThe rain cools down the sidewalk and the worms like to come out onto it. But it- itâs not raining anymore. It's too hot for them now. They- theyâre burning alive,â fresh tears fell, replacing the old ones. They ran races against each other, fighting to be the first to drip off of your chin and onto the cement below. Steveâs mouth opened, but he was cut off by the boy beside him.
âWhatever, worm girl. Just move out of the way so we can get to school,â Tommyâs words rang through the air, the entourage laughing at you from behind him. Steve could picture it now, youâd spend the rest of middle and high school deemed as the worm girl. Youâd hide in all of your classes, eat lunch by yourself in the library, and ignore the taunts that echoed throughout the hallway. Worm girl, worm girl, worm girl. Youâd leave Hawkins the day after graduation, a car full of boxes, your life packed up and tucked away in each, and youâd never return. Youâd start a new life in a new city that only knows you by your real name, not some playground-esque tease that stupid Tommy Hagan awarded you in 6th grade. Youâd be happy there, build a place you could call home, find your one true love, and Steve would never see you again.Â
Steve had to stop this now. He had to bury the name worm girl in the ground before it could ever fully emerge. And there was only one way that Steveâs prepubescent brain could think how. Your eyes flickered from Tommy before landing back on Steve, willing him to say something, to defend you. Maybe that was too much to ask.
âDamn, that was lame. Worm girl, really? Are we five?â Steve pulled his gaze from yours. He couldnât bear to see the look of hope that blossomed in your eyes. Not with what he was about to say next. âI mean, if anything, we should call her Baby since sheâs crying like one,â small giggles sounded off behind Steve before being overtaken by full-blown giggles and laughs. And there it was. Steveâs master plan had come to fruition. Replace a bad nickname with a not-as-bad nickname. It wasnât a great plan, he knew that, especially when he saw the scrunch of your brows and the quiver of your bottom lip, but it was the best that Steveâs 11-year-old thoughts could conjure on such short notice. And Baby really wasnât that bad. It's a term of endearment for Christ's sake. Or at least thatâs what Steve would tell himself.
Tommy laughed from beside Steve, throwing an arm over Carol and guiding her to walk around you. The others followed, hurling a few taunting calls of âBabyâ at you as they walked by. You looked back down at the ground, refocusing yourself on the task at hand, ignoring the cracks running along the foundations of your heart. Maybe Steve wasnât the same boy you had grown up with. Maybe his middle school fame had gone to his head more than you thought it would. More than you hoped it would.
You had just freed another dried worm from its place on the sidewalk when you saw it. A pair of Nikes in front of you. Steve Harringtonâs pair of Nikes. He hadnât gone with the others. It was like he was rooted to the spot. You placed the worm into the depths of the grass, tilting your head to look up at the boy towering over you.
âScrew you, Steve,â you spoke harshly, doing your best to let venom lace your words despite the shake in your voice. Steve didnât say anything back. He just crouched down in front of you, gently picking up the last worm from the sidewalk. He copied what you had done, parting the grass to place the worm close to the damp earth below. Steve stood up then, walking back to the group that had now passed you, heading towards the school. They hadnât even noticed he was gone.Â
Steve rejoined them, sticking to the back of the group to not draw attention to his momentary absence. He looked back at you then, finding you with your head turned over your shoulder, already gazing at him with confusion plastered across your face. He shot you a soft smile, one that he had typically reserved just for you. It only lasted a moment, but for that moment you were more perplexed than before.
In that smile was Steve. The Steve. The one that had plaid wallpaper in his room and hand-drawn pictures of cars taped to the walls (some that you had drawn for him). He was the boy who had a slew of green army men sitting on his window sill, the same ones that he had given you. They sat pointing towards the street out front, and never ever at you. They protected both of your rooms. The soldiers protected them from monsters, wizards, ghosts, and disappointed parents. At that moment, Steve was the boy next door who left messages taped to his window for you to see. The boy who stayed a few paces behind your bike after school to make sure you got home safely. He was the boy who promised to love you always before placing a peck on your lips when you were both five. He was the boy you knew, not the one who humiliated you in front of his friends.Â
But the moment ended. The smile dropped from Steveâs face as quickly as it had appeared. He turned his head back around, putting more and more distance between the two of you. You watched him for a moment longer until you finally managed to tear your gaze from his retreating figure. You moved then, leaning over the grass to see the worm that Steve had placed there, worried that he left it too high up. Most of the worms were dead long before you got there, you knew that, but it didnât stop you from trying to help them. All the worms in the grass were lifeless and unmoving despite your efforts. All except one. It was the worm Steve had placed there.
You jumped into action then, using your fingers to dig a hole in the dirt. As quickly as you could, you placed the worm into the hole, covering it with the fresh soil. Its tail poked out just a bit and you watched with bated breath as it slowly retracted, moving deeper into the ground below. You glanced up at the sidewalk again, expecting to still see Steve in the distance, but he was gone. Over the hill and out of your eye line, just like the worm.Â
âDonât call me that,â you bit through gritted teeth and Steve just laughed. His stupid, obnoxious, loud laugh. The one that warned you that danger was near anytime you heard it in the hallway in high school.Â
âWould you prefer I call you something else?â Steve pondered dramatically, bringing a finger to his lip and glancing up as if he were trying to remember something. âMaybe worm-â Steve began, a look of anger more prominent on your face now.
âFuck you, Steve,â you cut him off before he could finish his taunt. He was about to say something else, no doubt another snarky comment that you could definitely afford to miss. It was about to spring from his lips when Steve was met with the sound of your window slamming shut. You locked it too, pulling the curtains closed and retreating to your bed, no longer in the mood to read. Steve stared at the purple curtains now blocking his view of you. Oh, how he hated that specific shade, knowing that they were the only thing keeping him from gazing at you.Â
Steve closed his window too, locking it the same as you had. But he kept his curtains open, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of you later. The hand-drawn cars that once lined his walls were replaced by movie posters, ones he had gotten for free from work. He still had the army men littered along the window sill though. Most of them had been knocked over on their sides and Steve never bothered to pick them back up. They pointed at your room now, though Steve never intended for them to do so, unlike you who had purposefully aimed your soldiers at Steveâs window no more than a few days after Wormageddon.
Steve sat back on his bed, laying down and placing his arms under his head. Heâd made you mad. Gotten you all riled up, just as he had planned from the second you opened your mouth. So why did he not feel better right now? Why did his stomach hurt and his heart refused to rest? This battle was over. The war waged on but this was still a victory worth noting in the imaginary books. He hadnât gotten the final word but he still won nonetheless. Isnât that what he was supposed to do? He was a Harrington after all, and Harringtons were winners. Right?Â
But I knew youâd linger like a tattoo kiss
The sun crept along the horizon, unwilling to give in to the moon just yet. Orange and pink illuminated your room through the open curtains. You sat at your vanity, applying a final layer of gloss to your lips before smacking them together. Unbeknownst to you, Steve had been watching you through the window. He admired the effort you took while getting ready, although he knew you didnât need it. Steve would never admit it, heâd repressed it for far too long, but he thought you were the most beautiful girl heâd ever seen.Â
You turned towards your closet, digging through it to find a pair of shoes that matched your outfit. Steve couldnât help the clawing desire to know what you were getting ready for. There werenât any parties that he knew of that night. Maybe you were hanging out with Nancy and Robin. He couldnât imagine why youâd need to get dressed up for that though. Steve wished your window was open. He would lean on his window sill, asking about your plans for the evening. Heâd say it in that snarky Steve Harrington way. The way he knew would elicit an eye roll in response. But maybe youâd give in and tell him. Maybe youâd invite him to go with you. Or maybe Steve was letting fantasy mix with reality.
A car horn sounded from outside, pulling Steve from his thoughts with a jump. He didnât realize he was still standing at his window staring at you. At least he hadnât until you rushed to your window, trying to get a glimpse of the vehicle out front. Your eyes locked with Steveâs then and you couldâve sworn you saw him blush. You brushed it off, refocusing on why you had come to the window in the first place. Parked on the street in front of your house sat a van. A beat-up, rusty, falling apart at the seams, van. Steveâs gaze followed yours, also noticing the van below. A van he was more than familiar with at this point.Â
You bent over, pulling on your shoes as quickly as you could before rushing out of your room and down the stairs. Steve jumped into action then, doing the same from within his own house. He burst out the front door just in time to see you grabbing for the handle of the vanâs passenger side door. Steve peered through the windshield getting a glance of the unruly curls that rested on Eddie Munsonâs head. You hopped into the van and Eddie looked up, seeing Steve cut through his yard and head towards the van. You fastened your seatbelt and looked up, also catching sight of the boy rapidly approaching you.
âEddie, please drive. Like right now,â you turned to the boy next to you. Your voice came out shaky and desperate. Definitely not the commanding tone youâd hoped for.
âSorry, princess. Gotta see what the hair is so adamantly chasing us for,â Eddie shrugged and you groaned, throwing your head back. Unfortunately that only made Eddie laugh at you.
âIf you leave right now, Iâll do anything you ask for the rest of the night,â you pleaded, clasping your hands together to beg.
âAs tempting as that sounds, itâs a bit too late,â Eddie points to the window behind you. You turn, seeing Steve standing next to your window, hand raised in a wave. Eddie leaned over, arm reaching across your lap to crank the window down, because he knew damn well that you wouldnât do it. Not when Steve was standing on the other side at least.
âYouâre like a goddamn jumpscare. I hope you know that Harrington,â you spoke, folding your arms over your chest as Eddie retreated back to his side of the van. He could identify the hint of jealousy on Steveâs face all too well. It was the same look Steve wore anytime a guy got too close to you or made you smile a bit wider than normal. Eddie was well aware of Steveâs complicated feelings for you, even though Steve sure as hell wasnât.
âWhatcha up to? I thought you were staying home tonight?â Steve asked Eddie, resting his hands against the vanâs door. He was close to you, too close. You leaned back in your seat, putting more space between the two of you.
âWell, now Iâm not,â Eddie shot Steve a cheeky smile and Steve just blinked in response. âOk fine,â Eddie gave in, unraveling under Steveâs stare. He hated lying to Steve, especially now that theyâd gotten closer. âWeâre going to see some band play at The Hideout. Weâve had these plans for weeks. I lied about staying home,â Eddie rushed out and your mouth dropped in shock.
âOne look into Harringtonâs sparkly eyes and you're spilling your guts? Pathetic,â you groaned from your seat. Eddie rolled his eyes, focusing them back onto Steve.
âYou think my eyes are sparkly?â Steve quipped, a smirk growing on his lips. You heard Eddie laugh beside you and you couldnât help the scowl that formed on your face.
âGet over yourself, Steve,â you moved your hand over the window crank, threatening to roll up the window, but Steve stopped you.
âWait! I wanna come with,â he spoke quickly, eyes darting back and forth between you and Eddie. You couldnât help the laugh that formed in your throat. âWhatâs so funny?â Steve glared at you then.
âWell, for one, you hate metal music,â you began and Steve scoffed.
âSo do you,â Steve tried to retaliate, but the smirk on your lips told him he was fighting a losing battle.
âSure, Iâm not the biggest metal fan, but I like it enough and I love the energy of the crowd. Plus Eddie and I have been doing this for years. It doesnât even matter, youâre not coming with us so you might as well give up now,â you spoke, lifting your hand in a sarcastic wave goodbye.
âGood thing itâs not up to you then. Itâs Eddieâs van. He gets to decide,â your head snapped in Eddieâs direction then. You glared at him and focused as hard as you could. When you were younger, you and Eddie were convinced that youâd be able to communicate with each other telepathically if you tried hard enough. It never worked of course, but it never hurt to try. Eddie understood you better than anyone. He became your number-one confidant since the day you met. Surely he could pick up on your brain waves begging him to bar Steve from your plans.
Eddie headed towards the band room at Hawkins Middle with his guitar case swinging in his hand. He was early, intending to warm up on his own before the rest of Corroded Coffin got there for band practice. Eddie flicked on the lights, expecting the room to be empty. But it wasnât. You were there, in the corner of the room, tucked between some music stands. Youâd been curled into a ball and looked up when the fluorescent lights came on, illuminating your hidden figure. There were tears streaked across your face after a particularly brutal day of taunts from Tommy and Steve. Eddie set his guitar down and moved towards you slowly.
âAre you okay?â he asked in a quiet voice, hesitantly approaching. You remained silent, rising from your spot on the ground and wiping away your tears with your sweater sleeve. âIâm Eddie,â he spoke again, extending his hand for you to shake when he got close enough. You told him your name but didnât meet his hand with yours, not yet.
âBut everyone calls me Baby,â your voice was hoarse from crying but Eddie heard you loud and clear. He was an eighth grader but even heâd heard about the poor sixth grader that the popular kids had been calling Baby. It had moved beyond just them though. All of your classmates, teachers, and neighbors had adopted the name for you.Â
âWell, I wonât call you that, not if youâre not comfortable with it,â Eddie reassured you. He had been victimized plenty by the popular kids. He understood what it felt like, which is why he was shocked when you shook your head. His hand fell back to his side.
âNo, itâs ok. Iâve been telling people to call me Baby to help reclaim it, I guess. It took Marissa the librarian forever but sheâs finally gotten used to it. My parents still slip up, but thatâs to be expected,â you shrugged. What you didnât tell Eddie was that it still hurt when the name spilled from Steveâs lips. You werenât sure why it did. But the more you were called Baby by everyone else, the more desensitized you hoped to become to it.
âReclaim the name?â Eddie asked, eyebrows furrowed. You nodded, suddenly unsure what the boy in front of you thought. âThatâs pretty metal,â a smile stretched his lips and his hand shot back up between you, beckoning for yours to join it. âItâs nice to meet you, Baby.â
âYou too, Eddie,â you mirrored his smile, finally placing your small hand in his. Eddieâs calloused fingers enclosed around the back of your palm and two became one. You were inseparable. Inseparable in everything except for the reoccurring nightmare scenario that kept popping up in your life. Youâd been dragged in early on, being one of the last people to see Barb before she went missing. Youâd caught a glimpse of her through your window, sitting on the diving board above Steveâs pool, when suddenly she was gone. You joined Jonathan and Nancy in their quest to find her and kill the thing that took her. It sucked to keep Eddie out of that part of your life, but it was for his own good. Or at least it was until this past spring when Chrissy Cunningham became Vecnaâs first victim right before the poor boyâs eyes. Then you told him everything. Your two worlds fully merged, and you and Eddie became totally and fully inseparable.
Your glare bore into Eddieâs and you thought you had gotten through to him. You were wrong.
âAlright Harrington, hop in. Quickly though, I donât want to miss the opening act,â Eddie conceded, turning to face his gaze towards the road ahead. He could feel you burning holes into him with your eyes. You rolled the window up as Steve opened the van's back door.Â
âWeâre so working on the telepathy thing again. Evidently, youâre in desperate need of a refresher,â you grumbled and Eddie chuckled at how mad you were at the addition of Steve to your plans. Steve closed the van door, lounging in one of the bean bags Eddie kept in the back. After what felt like the longest ride of being tossed around the back of Eddieâs van, Steve was never more thankful to see The Hideout come into view. The three of you filed out of the van as the sound of metal music filtered through the barâs closed doors. Much to Eddieâs dismay the opener had already started their set. It smelled like cheap beer and cigarette smoke, causing Steve to wrinkle his nose.
âGo get us some drinks from the bar. Baby and I will get us a spot up near the front,â Eddie handed Steve a few dollar bills, enough to cover both your drink and his own. You and Steve might hate each other, but youâd been around each other in enough alcohol-fueled group settings to know each otherâs drink orders. Steve beelined towards the bar, yelling over the music to order your Dirty Shirley with extra cherries, Eddieâs Rum and Coke, and his own Long Island iced tea.
He spotted you and Eddie pushing through the crowd. You were in front of Eddie, his forearm thrown across the front of your shoulders to keep you close. The two of you stopped not far from the stage. You leaned up to say something in Eddieâs ear, your back flush with his chest, and Steve felt a rush of jealousy run through him. Eddie had told him countless times that the two of you were just friends. That the kisses heâd once shared with you while high were just meaningless, drug-fueled, pecks on the lips. That was a lie of course, but Eddie definitely wasnât going to tell Steve about the way you moaned against his lips until the two of you sobered up enough to feel embarrassed and swore to never speak of it again. Sometimes Steve needed to be lied to about certain things, mainly so Eddie wasnât on the receiving end of Steveâs right hook.
The bartender placed the drinks in front of Steve in exchange for the wad of cash slapped on the counter. Steve grabbed all three glasses and began his trek through the tightly packed crowd. Heâd gotten really good at holding a bunch of stuff in his hands at once during his brief stint at Scoops. Steve made it up to you and Eddie, passing the drinks to each of you. The three of you watched the opening bandâs set, dancing as much as you could with drinks in your hands and a packed crowd.
By the time the openerâs set was over you had sipped enough of your drink to expose one of the cherries in your glass. Steve couldnât help the way his mouth gaped as he watched you fish the cherry out with your finger, popping the morsel in your mouth and pulling it from the stem with your teeth. Eddie eyed the boy next to him, amused not only by Steveâs aroused reaction to such a simple thing but also by your complete obliviousness to said reaction. Despite the lack of music coming from the stage as you waited for the headlining band to come on, Eddie still had to shout over the buzz of the crowd.
âShow Stevie the thing,â Eddie gestured towards the cherry stem between your fingers. You shook your head in protest, but Eddie gave you his best puppy dog eyes and you were instantly beat. You rolled your eyes, placed the cherry stem on your tongue, and closed your lips. Eddie brought his arm up, glancing back and forth between you and his watch. Steve was baffled by the coordinated performance that the two of you were putting on in front of him. After a few seconds, your mouth popped back open. You plucked the cherry stem from between your teeth and held it up for Steve to see.
âSeven seconds! That might be your personal best,â Eddie exclaimed while Steve looked closely at the stem. It was tied in a knot. He took it from between your fingers and was about to ask how you did it when the band came on stage. Steveâs hand trailed down to his side, tucking the tied cherry stem into his pocket. He wasnât sure why, but throwing it away felt wrong for some reason.
The band was really good, especially the lead singer. He was only a few years older than you and he had gorgeous, blonde hair that flowed down to his shoulders. Steve had scoffed when the singer winked at you during their set, but you couldnât hear the sound over the music. The three of you had a surprisingly good time together, although it's pretty hard to fight with such loud music blaring throughout the room. Eddie and Steve were tasked with finding a table after the band left the stage and you got stuck with grabbing everyone new drinks.Â
âThat was actually really fun. How often do you guys do this?â Steve asked, his pants getting stuck to cheap faux leather as he slid into a booth opposite Eddie.Â
âOnce every month or so. It depends on which bands are playing,â Steve was listening to Eddie or at least he was at first. His eyes had been scanning the bar, trying to find you. When he finally did, his expression hardened. You leaned with your elbow against the bar, waiting for the bartender to come back with the drinks, but you werenât alone. The lead singer of the headlining band was beside you. He was smiling at you, and even worse for Steve, you were smiling back. Eddie noticed the change in Steveâs demeanor, the jealousy that now filled the hazel of his eyes. He tracked Steveâs gaze across the crowded bar, landing on you.Â
Eddie was impressed. Heâd seen you bag your fair share of hot guys after a show at The Hideout, but never had you managed to get with the lead singer of the headlining band. Steve, on the other hand, was not impressed. He was livid. It didnât help that the lead singer had just placed his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he leaned in close to whisper something in your ear. Steve quickly slid out of the booth, stomping his way through the crowd of people, heading towards you. Eddie winced, knowing he should chase after the boy, but slightly curious to see what would happen if he didnât. Steve pushed through the bodies surrounding him, stopping just in front of where you stood against the bar.
âWhat's taking you so long with the drinks?â He called out and your head shot up at the sound of his voice. The smile that had grown on your lips quickly faded at the sight of Steve. The singer, Corey, looked up from where he had just started to kiss your neck. He didnât move his hands from your hips despite Steveâs pointed glances.Â
âHey man, youâre kind of interrupting something right now. If you want a drink then ask the bartender or whatever,â Corey moved to face you again, but Steve wasnât done.
âHey man,â Steve mocked Coreyâs words. âYou need to take your hands off of her right now,â your brow furrowed in anger while Corey filled with confusion.
âSorry dude, didnât realize she was your girl,â Corey assumed based on Steveâs comment and began to move his hands, but you stopped him.
âIâm not, I swear. I barely even know that guy,â Steve scoffed at that and you shot him a glare. Coreyâs eyes flitted back and forth between you and Steve. He looked more confused than ever, almost painfully so.Â
âIâm way too high for this. You have her, man. It's not worth the fight,â Corey held up his hands in defense. Eddie had just worked his way through the sea of people in time to see Corey back away from you, scan the crowd, and head towards some pretty redhead across the room. Steve looked triumphant as he turned his gaze back to you. Eddie thought you looked like you were about to go ballistic. Heâd never seen you that mad before in his entire life. You looked even angrier now than you had when Eddie purposefully put gum in your hair and it got stuck so badly that you had to give yourself bangs to get rid of it. Eddie was about two seconds from sprinting out of the building to save himself from being a witness to what was sure to be Steveâs murder when the bartender, Dave, called out from behind you.
âHereâs that Long Island for you, Baby,â you spun around, revealing the Rum and Coke and Dirty Shirley that sat on the counter behind you. You thanked Dave, giving him a good tip, before turning back to Steve. Because even in your fury, you could still be nice to the waitstaff. You picked up the Long Island, marched towards Steve, and slammed the drink directly into his chest.Â
âSince you wanted it so fucking bad,â you pushed past him, not caring about the way the liquid sloshed over the lip of the glass, coating your hand and Steveâs shirt. You moved towards the exit, slamming the door open into the moonlit darkness outside. Steve took a second to process what just happened. He placed the remainder of his drink back on the counter before following in your path. Eddie groaned, grabbing his now abandoned drink from the bar and downing it. He grabbed your drink from beside his, knowing youâd need it when this was over, and followed Steve. You had made it to Eddieâs van and tugged on the door handle, cursing the long-haired boy for actually locking it for once.
âWhat the hell was that?â Steve called out from across the parking lot with his arms held wide. He was stalking towards you at a furious pace. You were so pissed that you didnât even notice your feet dragging you forward to meet him in the middle.
âWhere the fuck do you get off?â you asked in response instead of answering his question. Steve stopped when the tips of his shoes touched yours, scrunched faces mere inches from each other. âFirst you invite yourself along to Eddie and Iâs thing and then you ruin my chances with the very hot lead singer of the band. You did that for what, huh? Shits and giggles? I donât give a shit who you are Harrington, thatâs too fucking far,â you yelled, rage boiling beneath your hot skin.Â
âHe wasnât that hot,â Steve scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes widened. Eddie, who had just made it out to the parking lot, was surprised there wasnât steam shooting out of your ears at this point.
âIs that the only thing you fucking heard from what I just said?â you brought your hands to your forehead in exasperation. âYouâre such an asshole! I thought it would end when we graduated. Like youâd grow up a bit after graduation day. Hell, Robin said youâd matured, changed, and left the King Steve shtick behind. Eddie is one of your best friends now, the boy you taunted for years. So what is it about me, huh? Why are you suddenly too golden-hearted to bully everyone else but you never stopped fucking with me?â you had gotten close to Steve, not that you noticed through your tunneled vision of anger. Your heavy breaths fanned across Steveâs lips as you awaited his response.
âI-â Steve opened his mouth to respond and then quickly shut it. He didnât know. Well maybe he did know, somewhere deep down, but it wasnât something he could say to you now. Not in The Hideoutâs parking lot where a crowd had started growing around you. Steve stepped back, creating the space between you that you desperately lacked at the moment.
âThatâs what I thought,â you stepped back too, turning to walk towards Eddie. You quickly stopped, facing Steve once more. âDo me a favor, find some other girl to lurk around for a while. It's bad enough that you live next door. I really donât need you following me wherever I go like some fucking creep,â you spun on your heels again, grabbing the drink from Eddieâs outstretched hand and throwing it back like it was fruit juice.Â
Eddie unlocked the van and you slid inside, slamming the door behind you. Eddieâs eyes met Steveâs with a grimace. Eddie looked at you in the van and then back to Steve. Steve got the message; Eddie couldnât take you both home together. Maybe Steve was the one with telepathy instead. Eddieâs remorseful eyes searched Steve from across the lot. Steve conceded, gesturing for Eddie to take you. He was the one that fucked up anyway. If anything he deserved to be the one that had to call a cab. Eddie shot Steve a tight-lipped smile before hopping into his van and driving off. Steve watched the vanâs taillights as Eddie rolled through a stop sign, speeding off into the night.
The light in your room was off when the cab finally dropped Steve off at home. He wasnât surprised, expecting that youâd be at Eddie's trailer, erasing the night from your thoughts with a shared joint. Steve trudged up the stairs, opening and closing his door softly behind him so he didnât wake his parents. Theyâd be gone for another business trip in the morning, leaving one less thing for him to worry about tomorrow. Steveâs window was still open from earlier, allowing the cool night air to seep in. He laid back on his bed, thoughts racing in the silence. And thatâs when he heard it. A soft sob, then a sniffle. A deep breath, then another sob.
Steve sat up, his gaze aimed in the direction of the sound. His eyes landed on you, sitting on the floor of your darkened room with your back against your bed. Your window was cracked open, the way you normally kept it at night, allowing the birds to wake you with their songs in the morning. Steve stood, moving towards the window. You couldnât see him from this angle, not that you would have been able to regardless with the tears clouding your vision. Steve frowned. An ache in his chest, the same one heâd felt whenever he heard you cry, flourished within him. He wanted to comfort you. To wrap an arm around you and let cry into his chest. To tell you it would be okay and ask whoâs ass he needed to kick. But he couldnât. You werenât friends. You hated him. And itâs not like he could kick his own ass.Â
He didnât realize, didnât even feel it, but a tear slipped down his cheek, matching the flood that crowded yours. Steve lifted his hands to rest on the window, leaning against it as his brows furrowed over the broken look on your face. He pushed down, shutting the window softly, locking it, and closing the curtains. He couldnât listen to you cry anymore. He remembered what you said, and he didnât want to linger. The tear rolled off Steveâs chin, drowning a little unsuspecting green soldier on the window sill below. Steve moved away from the window and laid back on his bed. He felt around his pants pocket and fished out the knotted cherry stem. Steveâs eyes roamed over it for too long before he set it aside on his nightstand and closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep that night, no matter how hard tried. In the quiet dark of his room, Steve swore he could still hear your muffled cries.   Â
Drunk under a street light
Black and white flickered from the TV screen, illuminating the dark room that you lounged in. You were lazing on the couch, mindlessly picking at the bowl of popcorn in your lap. The movie playing across the room did nothing to pull your unfocused stare from the coffee table in front of you. It wasnât until you received a light kick to the thigh that you could finally shifted your eyes away.
âOkay, ouch,â you glared at Robin who was lying across the couch beside you, feet practically draped across your lap. She sat up, digging her hand into the bowl of popcorn. Her perfume scent lingered in the air around you even after she pulled back. It was sweet and light like she had just finished baking a batch of sugar cookies.
âYouâve been begging me to watch Casablanca with you for months and youâre not even paying attention to it now that I actually am,â she lifted her hand towards the screen before bringing her handful of popcorn to her lips. It's true. You had been dying to get someone to watch Casablanca with you for ages. Eddie watched it once and then refused to do it again after he ended up crying at the ending. Rick Blaineâs selfless act of giving up his one true love to give her a better life brought tears to the cold-hearted boyâs eyes. He made you promise not to tell anyone, especially Dustin.Â
âSorry Rob, Iâve just got a lot on my mind,â you apologized, trying your best to pay attention to the movie again. Youâd been zoned out for the entire first half of the movie, not that it mattered. You knew exactly what was happening on screen, given that youâd seen the movie a million times. It got to a point where Steve started keeping a copy under the counter at Family Video so there was always one available when you came in.
âAre you thinking about Steve?â Robin asked, her voice overpowering Ingrid Bergmanâs as Ilsa confessed why she left Rick alone in Paris. Your head snapped towards the girl beside you and you could see the faint smirk growing on her lips.
âWhy would I be thinking about Steve?â you answered her question with your own. The smirk fell from her lips then and she rolled her eyes. Robin sat up, pressing pause on the remote.
âBecause he was totally jealous and caused some huge blowout fight between the two of you. And when I say huge I mean huge. Itâs been over a week and you still wonât even acknowledge that he exists,â Robin explained, turning to face you better. You sighed and faced her too. You tried to avoid talking about Steve with Robin. Ever since they became friends it seemed too weird to talk shit about him in front of her.
âFirst of all, Steve definitely wasnât jealous. Heâs just a menace that loves to torment me,â Robin snorted a laugh but didnât interrupt, allowing you to continue. âSecond, Steve and I arenât friends so me not talking to him for a week really isnât that big of a deal,â Robin shrugged at that, seeing your point. âAnd third, how the hell do you know about all of this?â a guilty look spread across Robinâs face and you quickly realized the answer to your question. âEddieâs got a big mouth,â Robin nodded in agreement at your words.Â
âI wouldâve figured it out regardless. Steveâs been moping around for days. Heâs really beating himself up over the whole thing,â you chuckled and Robin shot you a confused glare.
âWhat? I find it hard to believe that Steve Harrington even remotely cares about anything that has to do with me. Well unless it has to do with making my life a living hell,â you leaned back again, digging your hand into the popcorn bowl once more. Robin just stared at you, obviously baffled by something.Â
âHas it ever occurred to you that maybe somewhere in Steveâs caveman brain all this âtormentâ is actually his way of expressing that he likes you?â Robin asked and repositioned the blanket that covered her lap. You stopped mid-chew, considering Robinâs words. You swallowed hard, sitting up and placing the popcorn bowl down on the couch between you.
âSo what, Steve pulls my pigtails on the playground and itâs all okay just because he likes me? Thatâs such a toxic ideology, Rob. Not only that, but the suggestion that Steve actually likes me is insane. I mean have you heard the worm story?â you felt defensive, as if you were being attacked even though you weren't. You couldnât understand why your heart wouldnât stop racing at the thought of Steve liking you.
âOf course, Iâve heard the goddamn worm story,â Robin threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over the popcorn in the process. âAnd I didnât say that it was a healthy way of expressing his feelings. It just might be the only way he knows how. Itâs not like his parents are great role models in teaching him about love and stuff,â a quiet fell over the room while your head raced at Robinâs words. Youâd been so wrapped up in your feud with Steve that you hadnât taken the time to consider his life outside of you.Â
You knew Steveâs parents were pretty absent based on the lack of cars in the driveway. And it was well known across town that Mr. Harrington was an asshole, no need to grow up next door to figure that out. Steve adored his dad when he was younger, and talked about how he wanted to be just like him. But you had heard the fights that seeped through the open windows in the years that followed. The disappointment that filled Mr. Harringtonâs face when he entered Steveâs bedroom and saw the movie posters lining the walls. You wondered then what Steveâs parents thought of his decision to forgo college. Whether they argued with his choice, fought with him to take a chance to change his future, or if they just accepted it, not expecting much else from their disappointing son.
âI hadnât thought about that,â Robin studied your face as you spoke. You looked lost, like you were questioning your past with Steve. After a moment the hint of a smile graced your lips and Robin furrowed her brow. âStill doesnât mean he likes me,â you quirked as Robin sat up, grabbing another handful of popcorn.Â
âOh whatever,â she launched her fistful of popcorn at you, hitting your face with the popped kernels before they fell to your lap. You retaliated, throwing popcorn back at her. The popcorn fight quickly ended when Robin picked up the bowl, dumping the rest of its contents over your head. The two of you fell into a fit of laughter while you tried, and failed, to pick the popcorn kernels from your hair. Eventually, you gave up, resting your head on Robinâs shoulder, the crunch of the popcorn sounding off as you did. Her shoulder was bony, uncomfortably stabbing your cheek with each delicate press against it, but you didnât mind. Neither of you was very touchy-feely with each other, though you were never sure why, so it was nice to have a rare moment of intimacy. It granted you a deeper understanding of one another and a peak into the mysterious ways that each of your brains worked.
âGo to a party with me tonight?â Robin asked softly, not quite ready to leave the comfortable quiet just yet. You kept your head still on her shoulder and closed your eyes, inhaling sharply.
âSince when do you actively attend parties?â you questioned and Robinâs shoulder shook beneath you as she let out a gentle laugh. It was a comforting sound, like waves at the beach or rain on the pavement. Thatâs what Robin was to you. A comfort. Sure, Eddie was your best friend and youâd known him longer, but Robin understood you in a way that he didnât. She controlled your chaos and balanced it with ease and truth. Robin matched your energy, knew what was best for you, and made you feel heard.
âSince Vickie asked me to go,â Robin winced out the words, anticipating your shift away from her side. Just as Robin thought, you lifted your head, turning to face her.
âSo youâre not inviting me to go to a party, youâre inviting me to Third Wheel all night?â you raised your brow, eyes pouring into the girl beside you. Robin winced, shrinking into her spot on the couch. âAlright, Iâll go. Got nothing better to do anyway,â Robin cheered triumphantly at your concession, standing to go to your room and start getting ready together. You stopped her, gesturing to the popcorn that littered the couch and floor. She groaned, reluctantly helping you clean up the mess she made.
Youâd walked to the party, arriving after everything was already in full swing. The sticky air reeked of weed and cheap booze as you pushed your way through the front door. It was sweltering inside the house. Sweaty bodies pressed themselves closely together on the dance floor, sipping on whatever deadly concoction resided in the punch bowl. Robin made a beeline for Vickie as soon as she walked through the door. There were familiar faces, people you knew from high school and whatnot, but no one you particularly fancied talking to. That is until you saw a mop of brown curls approaching with a black lunch box in his hands.
âI didnât know you were gonna be here,â you called out over the boombox that was blaring music throughout the room. Eddie wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to walk along with him. He guided you to the kitchen, stopping in front of a countertop littered with booze. You weighed your drink options, eventually pouring some vodka and Sprite into a solo cup, disappointed at the lack of cherry grenadine. You held up a bottle of rum pointed in Eddieâs direction, but he shook his head.
âStrictly business tonight sweetheart,â Eddie patted the lunchbox in his hands. You nodded in understanding, bringing your cup to your lips. âWhereâs Buckley?â he asked, suddenly noticing the missing girl that he was sure dragged you here. You didnât even have to speak, just pointing your finger to where Robin danced with Vickie across the room. Her hair was already a mess and her cheeks were flushed bright pink. You were about to say something else, keep your conversation with Eddie going, when he received a tap on his shoulder. It was some jock looking to make a deal. Eddie gave your hand a quick squeeze in place of goodbye and led the guy to the back of the house.
So there you were, standing alone in a crowded kitchen, regretting your decision to come in the first place. If only Nancy or Jonathan were there to keep you company, too bad they were both off at their respective colleges. Hell, you might even take Steveâs companionship at this point, because the longer you leaned against this countertop, the more boxed in you felt. What you didnât know was that Steve was there. He thought it would be a good way to get his mind off your fight, but as he stood in the corner of this too-hot house, sipping a lukewarm beer, and listening to his old basketball teammate drone on and on about how they shouldâve won the championship game their senior year, Steve realized he was wrong.
It especially didnât help when his eyes scanned the room and somehow landed on you. You were alone, searching the room, presumably for a familiar face, when he spotted you. Luckily for Steve, you remained oblivious to his watchful gaze, giving him some time to study you since he felt like he hadnât been able to in ages. He considered going over to you, to keep you company, but before he could even take a step, someone else approached you first. Your face dropped to a scowl at the sight of the freckled boy who now stood in front of you.
âWhatâs wrong Baby? Not happy to see me?â Tommy asked, a devilish grin hiding his lips. Steve was rooted to the spot, unable to move. He wanted to march over to you, drag you away from the douchebag before you, but he couldnât will his legs to trudge across the congested room. He was never good at standing up for you, especially not to Tommy.Â
âIs anyone ever happy to see you?â you asked, crossing your arms and keeping a close grip on your cup. Tommy looked you up and down, hungry eyes boring into your skin. Suddenly you wished you brought a sweater to cover your bare shoulders. Steve still watched you from afar, his stomach turning at the desire that lingered in Tommyâs expression.
âThere are plenty of girls around here that love when I show up,â Tommy grinned, leaning in closer. He reminded you of a shark with his teeth bared, waiting for a lowly seal to stumble into his pathway. âI could show you why if you come upstairs with me,â his lips came dangerously close to your ear, muffling the music that rattled the room.Â
âIâll pass,â you grimaced at his offer. Tommyâs grin faltered and you brought your cup to your lips with a shrug, trying not to look too smug at your denial of his advances. That must have been what set Tommy over the edge. He reached up, slapping the cup from your hand, ignoring the liquid that splashed over you both. His face leaned in close as his arms caged you against the counter.Â
âFuck you,â he spat, his face close to yours. âYouâre just some weirdo bitch anyway,â you were scared at that point, terrified even, but you remained calm. Showing your fear would be the worst thing to do. Steveâs heart raced in his chest as he watched Tommy corner you. He took a step forward, moving in your direction.
âA weirdo bitch that wonât fuck you,â you fired back at Tommy and his face turned red with fury. Maybe poking the bear wasnât a good idea. Suddenly someone knocked Tommy to the side, freeing you from him. You looked up, seeing a flash of red hair and someone in a striped shirt. Vickie and Robin.Â
âWoah man, we were spinning around and kinda lost control. Didnât even see you there,â Robin leaned down to where Tommy now sat on the floor. She shot you a wink when he wasnât looking. Vickie offered him a hand, but he brushed her off, standing on his own. He looked around, catching the glances of some of the partygoers, and stomped off, too embarrassed to continue trying to pursue you. Steve had made it about halfway through the crowded living room when Robin and Vickie took down Tommy in some sort of weird spin attack. He stood there now, watching as they checked over you. âYou alright?â Robin asked you while Vickie inspected you for any bruises or blemishes from Tommy.
âYeah, Iâm all good. Think Iâm just gonna go actually,â you looked down at your shirt, taking inventory of how damp it was from your spilled drink.Â
âWeâll go with you,â Vickie spoke up, taking hold of your arm as if she would guide you out. You shook your head, sliding her hand down to yours and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go.Â
âNo, you guys stay and have fun. Iâm gonna try and hitch a ride. Iâve gotta know someone around here thatâs planning on leaving soon,â you had no intentions of actually getting a ride from someone. But you knew Robin would never let you go if she knew you were going to walk home alone and you just needed to get out of there. You would ask Eddie, but you knew he needed the money heâd make from selling tonight so you didnât want to bother him.Â
âOkay,â Robin nodded, granting you permission to leave. You gave her and Vickie a two-finger salute and made your way to the door. âNo rides home from anyone on the basketball team. Past, present, or future. I swear all of those guys are creeps,â Robin called after you, turning a few heads as she did. You chuckled, continuing on to the door.
Steve still stood in the living room, watching the three of you closely. His eyes followed you as you trekked through the crowd to the door. Once you finally made it outside, his gaze shifted back to Robin only to find that she was already looking at him. She motioned with her head to the door, encouraging him to follow after you. So he did. Steve threw away his half-drunk beer and burst through the door. You were already halfway down the block when he got in his car and pulled up next to you.Â
It was cold outside, especially for early September, a chill lacing the breeze with each gust. It definitely didnât help that your shirt was still soaked through. You saw the headlights of a car approaching behind you, brushing it off as you shivered and pulled your arms close. It took you a moment to realize that the car hadnât passed you yet. You turned your head, suddenly facing a maroon BMW with its windows rolled down. A groan escaped your lips, but you still bent down to peer through the window. Steveâs car came to a stop, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of your exasperated face.
âYou stalking me now, Harrington?â Steve let out a chuckle and a gust of wind picked up, making you shiver again.Â
âYou wish. Come on, get in and Iâll drive us home,â he studied your face, searching for a sign that youâd agree. He couldnât find one, your body unmoving from your spot on the sidewalk.Â
âIâm perfectly capable of walking. Plus Robin said no rides from anyone on the basketball team,â you shot him a sly smirk and stood up straight, continuing your walk through the neighborhood. Youâd expected Steve to drive off then, leaving you to walk in peace. But he didnât, his car followed alongside you. âWhat are you doing?â you asked, stopping again to see Steve through the passenger window.
âIf you wonât let me drive you home, then Iâll just drive next to you,â Steve shrugged, looking up at you.
âWhat if I cut through someoneâs backyard?â you asked and Steve shrugged again, a smirk dancing on his lips.
âThen some people are gonna be really pissed to see tire tracks on their lawn,â he replied and you almost wanted to laugh at his persistence, entertained by Steveâs unwillingness to let you be alone. His smile faltered then. âYou and I both know the kind of shit that lurks around Hawkins at night,â any amusement from before had slipped away. None of you mentioned the Upside Down much now, not after finally defeating Vecna. It was final, the battle that ended the war, destroying the Upside Down for good. You couldnât help the lingering fear that youâd missed something, that one day it would all return. And here, on the sidewalk after some lame party, you realized that Steve shared that fear too.Â
âOk,â you said simply, shocking Steve as you pulled on the passenger door handle and slid into the seat next to him. He waited until you buckled up before rolling up the windows and driving off. It was quiet in the car, the lingering tension of all the unspoken words swirling in the air. Steve heard the sound of your teeth chattering and your hands brushing the goosebumps on your arms. He quickly reached into the back, grabbed an old sweatshirt that sat there, and handed it to you. Normally you wouldâve rejected it, your pride too inflated to accept help from Steve in any form. But it was cold, your shirt was wet, and your conversation from earlier with Robin still lingered in the forefront of your mind.Â
Steve didnât expect you to take his sweatshirt so easily, replacing his hand on the wheel when he felt the weight of it lift from his palm. You pulled his sweatshirt on, reveling in the warmth it provided. It smelled like hairspray and lavender, a hint of boy mixed with the two. It smelled like Steve. Silence settled over the two of you again and Steve couldnât stand it anymore.
âIâm sorry,â the words burst from within him, head turning to look at you for a moment. You looked calm and objective like Steve hadnât even spoken in the first place. âThe whole thing at The Hideout was so stupid. I donât even know why I did that,â you looked at him then, expression still neutral. âI guess I just feel like I need to protect you and I took it too far,â your brow scrunched at that, finally giving Steve an insight into your thoughts.
âProtect me? You and Tommy tormented me for years,â anger rose in your throat. You hadnât meant to get mad, still considering what Robin said, but Steveâs twisted claim brought it out of you in the way that only he could.
âI know, I know. And Iâm sorry about that too. I just- I just wanted to fit in, to be cool. But I realize now that none of that shit ever mattered. I mean, how important was popularity when the one person that I actually cared about couldnât stand me?â Steve spoke and the tension in your face dropped. The one person Steve cared about? Was he talking about you? You took a deep breath, thinking over your words when the car came to a stop in front of your driveway.
âSteve,â you spoke softly, almost a whisper, like the breeze rattling through the trees. âI canât just forget about all of it because youâve abruptly changed. I canât just decide to be your friend all of a sudden. You hurt me, for a long time. Hell, you still do,â Steve winced, wanting to turn back time to when you were five, when nothing bad had happened to you yet and things were much simpler.Â
âI know,â Steveâs head sunk, his chest aching with each passing second.
âI just,â you stopped, jumbled thoughts bouncing around your head. âI just think itâs easier when we keep ourselves apart. It doesnât hurt as much that way,â the streetlights above reflected the swelling tears in your eyes as they threatened to spill. You hadnât meant to cry, and you surely didnât want to. Steve understood your sentiments. Being around you only reminded him of how it couldâve been if he hadnât tried so hard to fit in. If he hadnât screwed it all up.
âBut maybe we could try. Try to be friends,â the words surprised Steve as they left his lips. They came out far bolder than he felt capable of being at the moment. âGroup settings, public places. Baby steps, you know?â Steve tried to stop the hope building in his chest, too worried about the damage it would do if you said no. But you didnât.Â
âMaybe,â you said in a whisper, a tear finally tracking down your cheek. A soft smile slipped over Steveâs lips, the same one he wore around you as a kid. The same smile you saw before he traipsed over the hill, leaving you on the sidewalk with the worms. Your lips twitched upwards for a second before you pulled the door handle and exited the car.Â
The feeling of hope now took full form, blossoming in Steveâs chest, filling every crack and crevice between his ribs. He watched you walk up to your front door, still wearing his sweatshirt, slipping inside your house with a small wave in Steveâs direction. Steve put the car back in gear, pulling into his driveway next door. He shut the car off and leaned back in his seat, still unable to wipe the smile from his face. Maybe. He could work with maybe.
You drew stars around my scars, but now Iâm bleeding
Eddieâs van was a mess. Your legs brushed against fast food wrappers while cigarette butts covered the floor, crunching under your sneakers. It smelled like weed and sweat with a hint of the black ice air freshener that you forced him to buy a while ago. It was early afternoon, the sun still high in the sky as Eddie made a right turn out of your neighborhood.
âWhy are we doing this again?â you asked, shifting to look at Eddie. He had his hair pulled up into a messy bun that you insisted on doing for him. It was a rare and rather unwelcome hairstyle for the metalhead, but it was well warranted for the occasion.Â
âBecause Buckley wants to learn how to play basketball and Harrington asked for my help,â Eddie shrugged, approaching a stop sign and making a left. You rolled your eyes, letting out a huff of air from your chest.
âBut you hate basketball,â you groaned, wondering why Robin would even want to learn how to play in the first place.Â
âYes, but theyâre my friends and they asked for my help, so my help they shall receive,â normally you would have laughed at Eddieâs goofiness, but the thought of being around Steve loomed over your head. You still hadnât seen each other since the party, just glimpses through bedroom windows. It was hard to say where either of you stood with each other. Becoming friends seemed like an impossible feat on your part, too stuck in the past to care about the potential future.
âOkay, so why am I included in this? Steve didnât ask for my help,â you pulled your feet from the trash-covered floor, finally sick enough of how the garbage touched your ankles. Your feet rested on the seat and you hugged your knees close to your chest. Your head sat atop them, watching Eddie closely with narrow eyes, trying to figure out if this was some scheme to get you near Steve.
âEach team needs two players, Baby. Kind of hard to play a two v. two with only three people,â you let out another groan and Eddie smirked in response, knowing you couldnât refute him anymore. He made a sharp right turn, pulling up to the outdoor basketball courts that sat behind the high school. Eddie turned off the engine and tapped your knee. It was his way of telling you to get out of the car and lock your door behind you. The two of you began your walk over and could just barely make out three figures through the holes in the chain link fence that surrounded the basketball courts.
âYou know, I donât think Iâve ever seen you wear athletic shorts before. I might pass out at the sight of your legs,â you said to Eddie as the two of you walked through the gate, entering the basketball court. You barely had time to accentuate your comment with a smirk before Eddie leaned in close.
âReel it in, Baby. Best not to flirt with me in front of Harrington. Wouldnât want to risk him getting jealous again,â your face grew hot at Eddieâs comment, the thought of a jealous Steve stirring something deep in the pit of your stomach, something like desire. Eddie donned a stupid smile as you approached Robin, Steve, and Lucas in the middle of the court.
âWhatâs up with you?â Steve asked, noticing your flustered appearance. Your eyes darted back over to Eddie, who continued to wear the same shit-eating grin as before.
âNothing, just ready to play some basketball,â you deflected and Steve nodded, covering the basic rules of the game. Lucas was acting as the referee for the match, making it feel much more intense than it should have. Thatâs probably why you took it so seriously, covering Robin as if your life depended on it. Steve won the tip-off, sending the ball back to Robin. She caught it and began to dribble towards the basket. She looked like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time as she made her way up the court, nearly smacking the ball away from herself in the process. You used it to your advantage, managing to grab the ball from her, dribbling up the opposite side of the court, and scoring a basket from the three-point line. Steve retaliated after that, shooting his own shot and tying the score. It continued like that for a bit, Eddie and Robin eventually gave up on trying to cover the both of you, which was how you ended up in front of Steve, desperately attempting to block his shot.
âWorried youâre gonna miss?â you taunted as Steve dribbled in front of you, your back to the basket. A cocky smirk overtook his lips then, bringing the ball up to shoot. It wouldâve gone in too, if you hadnât smacked it out of the air, stealing it for yourself. You sprinted down the court towards the other basket with Steve hot on your trail. He managed to get in front of you and you turned your back towards him, protecting the ball in the meantime before you could get a clear shot. âCome on, Harrington. I thought you were the team captain back in high school. Figured youâd be better than this,â you knew it was dangerous, teasing him in such a flirty way, but it was all in good fun, right?
âOh, Iâll show you, Baby,â Steve practically whispered into your ear, his chest pressing against your back. If you werenât so focused on beating Steve you wouldâve felt the goosebumps that littered your spine. Steveâs arms came up to circle you, so you moved, pivoting to take your shot and knocking Steve out of the way in the process. He lost his balance as the ball left your fingertips. You felt Steveâs hands find your torso as you watched the ball tip into the basket, dragging you down with him as he fell. Your shirt had ridden up when you made your shot, causing Steveâs fingers to brush against your bare skin. It felt like you were falling in slow motion until you finally landed hard on top of Steve, your back flush to his chest.Â
Pain shot up your sides as Steveâs fingernails scraped against the semi-healed scars that resided there. You got up quickly, not taking the time to register your pain, lifting your shirt again to see that the wounds had broken open on both sides. It took Steve a second to get up after hitting the ground so hard. The others rushed toward the two of you, but your eyes landed on Steve, his gaze already honed in on the fresh blood pooling on your skin. His hands came down to his own torso, feeling the scarred flesh that matched yours.Â
After everything was said and done, the dust settled and Vecna gone for good, there was only the matter of medical care to worry about. Eddie was mostly unscathed, with a few bat bites here and there, but nothing some disinfectant and band-aids couldnât fix. Lucas was sure to have a swollen eye, cuts, and bruises after fighting Jason. Max was delivered to the hospital where the doctors said she would make a full recovery but might need a pair of glasses. Which just left you and Steve. You had jumped in right after him at Loverâs Lake, fighting your way through the water as he was tugged deeper below. When you popped out of the gate mere seconds after him, the bats swarmed you too. It wasnât until Nancy appeared, oar in hand, that you managed to escape the feeling of the batâs teeth sinking into your skin.Â
The bats had gotten you good, doing just as much damage to you as they had to Steve. When the fight was over and everyone was safely right-side-up, you refused to get medical care, worried that youâd be poked and prodded while Owensâ doctors tried to study your wounds. Steve refused too, unwilling to be treated unless you were first, not that you knew that.
Robin and Eddie insisted on staying with the two of you to make sure nothing bad happened in the middle of the night. But you said no, pointing out that Eddie needed to stay hidden until his name was cleared. Not to mention that you just wanted to be alone after the strenuousness of the previous few days. You assured Robin and Eddie that your parents would take care of you if anything happened, same with Steve. They reluctantly agreed, dropping you and Steve off in front of your house, leaving the two of you to go your separate ways.
You were about to trudge up the lawn and enter your house, thinking about finally being able to sleep, when you caught sight of Steveâs empty driveway. You hadnât even thought about the fact that his parents were out of town, and he hadnât mentioned it to Eddie or Robin either. Steve had already started walking towards his house when you called his name.
âYou didnât say that your parents werenât home,â you jogged up to him, wincing at the pain that shot up your side. Steve shrugged, also looking desperate for a decent night of sleep. Steve turned around again, continuing towards his house, leaving you on his lawn. You started following him until he saw you from the corner of his eye and stopped again.
âWhat are you doing?â the words sounded twisted as they fell from his lips, the same venom you expected from the boy who bullied you for years. Your face grew hot with anger, suddenly wondering if you should just turn back around and retreat to your house.
âYou canât be alone tonight, not when youâre in such bad shape,â you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to come across firmly in an attempt to discourage Steve from arguing with you. He simply raised a brow in question.Â
âI think Iâll be fine,â he moved to turn on his heel again, to scale his front steps and enter the cold empty house before him. But your arm shot out, landing on his arm and stopping him in his tracks. Steve froze, mind racing at the feel of your skin against his. He couldnât remember the last time you touched him, given that you usually kept your distance whenever he was near.
âSteve, I canât leave you alone in good conscience. If you bleed out and die, thatâs on me,â you spoke the words quietly, almost sounding embarrassed to have to say them at all. Steve studied you, eyes roaming over your face. The walls you kept up around him seemingly fell in that moment as he caught sight of the worry hidden deep in your gaze. He nodded then, giving in and leading you to his front door, trying not to look visibly upset when your hand no longer held him.
The house was just as you remembered from when you were a kid. Clean and organized, everything in its designated place. It always frightened you back then, a house so pristine that it didnât look like anyone could possibly live there. You followed Steve as he ascended the staircase, both of you winded and clutching your wounds when you got to the top. Steve showered in the bathroom attached to his room, offering you a towel and clean clothes before sending you off to the guest bathroom.
The hot water pulsed down on you, blood and grime swirling around the drain at your feet. The water seared your skin with each drop, but you didnât mind, hoping the sweltering heat would rid you of the horrors youâd witnessed within the past few days. The sight of Eddie being tackled to the ground by a swarm of bats. The sound of Steveâs screams as his flesh was torn open. Your own wails of pain as the bats did the same to you a few feet away. Maxâs broken limbs and unfocused eyes as Lucas held her in his arms on the way to the hospital.
You turned the shower off, unwilling to let your thoughts run rampant anymore. You were careful when drying off, avoiding your wounds to keep blood from soiling Mrs. Harringtonâs stark white towels. Sheâd be sure to have a fit at the sight of a stain. You dressed quickly, pulling Steveâs old shirt and baggy sweatpants on. There wasnât a first aid kit in the guest bathroom, so you headed back to Steveâs room, holding your shirt away from your body to avoid getting blood on it. You knocked gently on Steveâs bedroom door and it only took a moment for him to open it for you.Â
His hair was wet, a towel draped over his bare shoulders. He was shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips as water dripped down his hairy chest. Your eyes lingered there for a moment before trailing to the bandages wrapped around his torso. Steveâs eyes followed yours, landing on the gauze tied tightly to his skin.
âI seem to get the shit beat out of me anytime something like this happens,â he used his towel to gently pat his hair dry. âIâve gotten pretty good at patching myself up,â Steve shrugged, hanging the towel on the back of his bathroom door.Â
âCan you do mine?â you asked quietly, lifting your shirt to reveal your wounds. Steveâs gaze flickered down to them, blood from each gash threatening to spill down your sides. His breath caught in his chest at the sight of your exposed skin. It was dumb, just your stomach on display, but it took Steve a second to contain himself. It was nothing he hadnât seen before, memories of your bare skin seen on the few occasions that you forgot to close your curtains before changing. Steve always looked away, but the flashes of your skin were seared into his brain. He nodded in response to your question, going into the bathroom with you trailing behind him. He told you to sit on the counter, pulling out the first aid kit from the cabinet next to your dangling legs. Steve wiped each wound with an antiseptic wipe, cleaning the area and sopping up the thin blood that surrounded it. His hands were gentle and soft like he was afraid to touch you, to break you.
âHold this,â Steve placed a gauze pad on one of the wounds, his fingers guiding your hand to rest over it, holding it in place. He ignored the tingle in his fingers as his skin brushed yours, moving on to place another pad over the other blemish. Your hand came up automatically, holding it in place without Steve having to tell you again. He unraveled the rest of the gauze, slowly wrapping it around your waist, softly brushing your hands away when he no longer needed you to hold the pads in place. Steve circled it around you a few times, finally securing the gauze tightly in place with a swift knot.
âThank you, Steve,â you whispered, his face close to yours. Steve hummed in response, letting his eyes drift to your lips for a moment too long before pulling himself away and packing up the first aid kit. He returned it to the cabinet, his shoulder brushing your leg in the process, sending chills down his spine.Â
Steve stood then, opening the linen closet by the door, searching for a blanket to give you in case the guest room got too cold. You were tired, to the point of exhaustion really, longing to lay your head against a soft pillow. But fear came creeping in, the demons in your closet, or the demogorgons rather, holding your mind hostage. The fears controlled you then, in combination with the exhaustion, speaking words from your lips that you otherwise wouldnât have even considered muttering.
âCan I sleep in here? With you?â when you were first dropped off all you could think about was finally being alone, but as you sat there now, Steve's clothes covering your skin, you realized that wasnât what you wanted at all. Steve froze, and his quest to find a blanket quickly halted. He looked up at you, taking in the heavy bags under your eyes, the weight of the past few days slumping your shoulders forward. He knew under normal circumstances that you never would have asked, and probably couldnât have even stood being in the same room as him for more than two minutes, but these werenât normal circumstances. And he would take what he could get.
âYeah, okay. Iâll sleep on the floor. You can take the bed,â Steve turned to the linen closet once more, searching for a blanket for himself this time. He heard you slide off the counter, thinking youâd brush past him and get into his bed, but you didnât. You stopped next to him, pulling Steveâs focus to you.
âYou canât sleep on the floor. What if you bleed out? Iâd never know if you were down there. At least not until the morning,â Steve placed his hands on your shoulders, ceasing your seemingly endless babble. Your eyes were wide and bloodshot, staring back at Steve with a worried brow.
âOkay,â he agreed, trying to calm himself, the jitters of being so close to you creeping in. âWeâll both sleep in my bed,â his hands fell to his sides and you let out a breath you didnât know you were holding. Steve left the bathroom, turning out the light as he did. You slid into Steveâs bed, the sheets pulled up around you as Steve switched off his lamp. The bed dipped beside you from Steveâs weight. You went to roll over, trying to face him, but you were met with pain, gasping and clutching your side with a hiss. Steve shot up, trying to help you but only injuring himself with his sharp movement in the process. You couldnât help but laugh as you both settled down onto your backs.
âArenât we a pair,â you mumbled and Steve chuckled beside you. The room was dark, filled with the scent of a burned-out candle, Steve's lavender-scented shampoo, dirty laundry, and something else inherently Steve. Your eyes watched the ceiling, lying in silence next to the boy you supposedly hated. He rustled around beside you, trying to get comfortable. In a normal situation, you wouldâve snapped at him for moving the bed so much, but right now you found it amusing. After another minute of restless movement, he let out a groan.
âI normally sleep on my stomach, but this shit makes it impossible,â annoyance laced his tone as he referred to the bat bites lining the front of his stomach. Your head turned in his direction, silently taking in his side profile, his sharp nose, and long eyelashes. He almost looked normal if you ignored the angry ring of red flesh lining his neck.Â
âIâm a side sleeper,â you spoke softly, Steveâs head turning towards your voice. For some reason, he liked hearing more about you, even if it was just something as silly as how you normally slept. âIâm in the same boat as you, Harrington,â the wounds on your sides making it impossible to lay that way. Steve could just make out the shadows of your face in the dim light. The curve of your lips, the arch of your brow, the tip of your nose. He thought you looked beautiful. âIâm sorry I couldnât stop them. Iâm sorry I couldnât stop the bats from getting you,â your lip quivered then, tears welling in your eyes as you lived up to your crybaby nickname. You werenât sure where the burst of emotion came from, chalking it up to the exhaustion that weighed heavily upon you. Steve lifted his head, his hand coming up to brush away your tears.
âAre you kidding? You jumped in right after me. If you hadnât been there I wouldâve been dead in less than a minute. You distracted some of them. I wouldâve been bat food if not for you. If anyoneâs sorry it should be me,â you shook your head and Steveâs hand came down to rest on your cheek, thumb rubbing circles against it gently as he spoke. Why were you letting him hold you like this? Why did it feel so comforting? You sniffled, trying to stop your tears from falling. âBaby, you saved me. I need you to know that,â you nodded at his reassurance, too choked up still to use your words. Your eyes were heavy by then, the lack of sleep weighing in on you even more.Â
âI'm glad I went through that gate then,â you mumbled, words barely audible through your sleep-slurred speech. With the last of your energy, you moved, rolling onto your stomach, the wounds on your sides untouched by the mattress. Steve followed your lead, moving onto his side, and facing you. His arm draped across you, careful to avoid your wounds, and a soft sigh left your lips as your eyes slowly closed. Your breath evened out soon after, slowed inhales and exhales taking over. Steveâs fingers found the bulge of the cotton pads on your side, tracing across them gently, a comforting gesture that youâd never know about. He wished he had superpowers, the ability to heal you with just a touch. But he didnât, so heâd do this instead, easing your pain with a soft touch while you slept.
When you woke in the morning you had the overwhelming urge to pee. You slid gently from Steveâs embrace, somehow managing to get even closer to him during the night. You tiptoed to the bathroom, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy. The large mirror covering the wall taunted you when you finished, urging you to take a peek beneath the gauze. You caved, hands gently pushing the gauze to the side. The bleeding had stopped and the gashes already started looking better. It was curious how well they had cleared up overnight, but you just shrugged, used to the strangeness of the supernatural by now. You climbed back into bed with Steve after putting the bandages back into place. You wanted another minute of peace, a moment, maybe the last of its kind, when you and Steve didnât hurt each other. When Steve Harrington was still the boy you knew, not the one youâd grown to loathe.
âShit Steve, seriously?â You winced as the blood began to trickle down your skin. âItâs a basketball game, not tackle football,â you lost your balance for a moment, Lucasâ arms shooting up to steady you. Steve stood speechless, incapable of fathoming how his hands did so much harm to you. The skin had never quite healed right, you suppose, more fragile than most other places on your body. âEddie, can you take me home,â you asked, trying to keep your shirt from getting wet with blood, knowing your shorts were a lost cause with scarlet droplets already pooling at the waistband. Eddie nodded quickly, rushing to your side as if he had to carry you to the van.
âI can take you. I mean, I live next door. Iâll clean you up,â Steve suddenly was able to find words, knocked out of his stupor. He moved towards you then, but you raised your hand, stopping him in his tracks.
âI asked Eddie,â you spoke with a glare, already walking toward the courtâs exit. Eddie shot Steve a sympathetic look before following behind you. Robin lifted her hand to comfortingly pat Steveâs back while his mouth fell slightly agape. You got into the van with a wince and Eddie closed the door for you. Robin, Steve, and Lucas were filing off the court then. Steveâs head was down while he unlocked his car. Eddie turned the keys in the ignition, started the van, and began to pull out of the lot.
It was an accident, you knew that, so why did it frustrate you so much? The same hands that once held yours as children now were the ones to lacerate your skin. Maybe it was the ache you buried deep inside, the one youâd never been able to alleviate, the pain Steve perpetuated for years. The one you hadnât been able to forgive him for no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you wanted to. He left you, tossed you aside like you were some old sweater discarded beneath his bed, like you were nothing. It seemed never-ending like youâd never escape his harmful grasp. You wanted to be five again when the world seemed so much kinder and you loved Steve Harrington. Maybe the latter was still true, maybe thatâs why he scarred you more than the others ever had.
As Eddie drove towards the exit, your gaze drifted up, landing on Steve. Robin and Lucas had already gotten into Steveâs car, but he stood outside of it, arms resting on the crook between the carâs roof and the door. His eyes followed you through the van window as Eddie sped away. A strange look overtook Steveâs face, one you couldnât quite read. It was the look of a boy that never wanted to hurt you, but somehow constantly did.
I knew youâd haunt all of my what-ifs
           The sun hid behind the clouds, peaks of light streaming through the cracks in the sky. Tires rolled against the pavement, making their way across town. The radio was low in the car, some Fleetwood Mac song lulling softly through the air. Your car was old, covered in dents and scratches, with windows that only opened halfway and an engine that grumbled with each press to the gas pedal. Even though your parents offered to help you buy a new one, a more reliable form of transportation, you refused. This car held too many memories in its stained cloth seats. Your first kiss in the backseat, jam sessions with Eddie, driving Will, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas to the science fair where they finally got first place again. You couldnât let it go, not yet, not while it still had some life in it. You knew how much it sucked to be abandoned.Â
           The tires screeched and squealed as you turned into the Family Video parking lot. You pulled into a space near the front of the store, dim headlights shutting off when you pulled the keys from the ignition. Robin had told you she was working today, but as you looked around you were unable to find her bike in its normal place on the bike rack. You did however spot a maroon BMW parked near the back of the lot. That lying bitch. A sigh fell from your lips, eyes closing at the thought of seeing Steve. It had been two days since the basketball incident and you had been sure to keep your distance. Steveâs sorry eyes peeked through bedroom windows and only made you feel guilty for getting mad at him in the first place. But you couldnât stall this any longer, the movies were due today and youâd be pissed if you got another late fee. So you grabbed the tapes from the passenger seat, holding them close to your chest as you closed your car door and walked through the entrance to Family Video.
           Steve stood hunched over the counter, the same way he normally did when the store was empty like it was now. His eyes were glued to the magazine that rested on the counter before him. It was a Cosmopolitan. He was ashamed to admit that he was searching its pages for tips on how to get back in your good graces. So far he was coming up short, but he still skimmed through it anyway. The bell rang above the door, signaling to Steve that a customer had entered.Â
           âWelcome to Family Video. My nameâs Steve. Let me know if you need help with anything,â the words spilled from Steveâs lips automatically, his gaze still glued to the magazine. It took Steve a moment to register the silence he received in response, brushing it off as another inconsiderate customer. At least thatâs what he thought until a stack of tapes slammed down on the counter beside him. Steve looked up then, seeing you standing across from him with raised eyebrows. Your eyes trailed down to Steveâs magazine, and his gaze followed yours. In less than a second, Steve had slid the magazine off the counter, quickly tossing behind him. You simply blinked, an amused smile blossoming on your lips as the magazine crashed to the floor.Â
           âI want to return some tapes,â you couldnât help the smirk that remained as you spoke, pushing the stack of video tapes in front of the boy. Steve nodded, picking up the first tape and scanning it back into the system. âWhat were you reading there, Harrington?â he could hear your smile through your amused tone, refusing to meet your eyes as he continued to scan your tapes.Â
           âSports Illustrated,â Steve lied, ignoring the way your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You couldnât contain your laughter anymore, clutching your sides as giggles poured from your throat. Your laughter was contagious, causing a few chuckles to spring out of Steve too.Â
           âWhatever you say, Harrington,â you composed yourself, finally ceasing your giggles, but the smile remained taut on your lips. Steve handed over your receipt for the returned tapes, expecting you to leave after clutching it in your hands, but you didnât. Your feet drifted over to the movie-lined aisles and Steve couldnât help but follow, tripping over his discarded magazine in the process.Â
Eventually, you stopped in front of a shelf, Steve watched the way you studied your options. When one finally caught your attention you leaned up, standing on your tippy toes to grab it. Your shirt rode up in the process, revealing the large bandages that covered the wounds on your sides. Steveâs heart dropped, the memories of the basketball game, the whole reason he had been reading that stupid magazine in the first place, flooded his mind. Just as your fingers brushed the front of the tape, seconds from getting ahold of it, Steveâs hand lifted it instead, offering it to you.
âThanks,â you said sincerely, only then noticing the kicked puppy look on Steveâs face. You opened your mouth to speak again, but Steve beat you to it.
âIâm so sorry about the other day. I really didnât mean to hurt you. I just got carried away,â Steveâs gaze drifted to the ground, missing the pity that swelled in your eyes. âIâm sorry this shit keeps happening. Itâs just that when Iâm with you I canât seem to function like a normal person,â he lifted his head then, catching a glimpse of emotion in your expression. Regret? Or is it that underlying anger you saved just for him?
âItâs fine, Steve,â you assured him, but the boy wasnât comforted. He opened his mouth to apologize again, but you didnât let him. âDude, Iâm sick of hearing you apologize. It's fine. If anything I should apologize for being such a bitch about it. It was an accident, letâs move on,â Steve eyed you, unsure whether you were messing with him or not. But you were serious, hoping that the old Steve still lived within the boy in front of you, and that one day you could make amends. Maybe this was the first step, and if that meant forgiving him for something he accidentally did, then so be it. âCheck me out?â you asked, holding the tape up for Steve to see. He nodded, going back behind the counter. He reached down, grabbing a copy of Casablanca from under the counter and placing it next to the movie you had just picked out, but you shook your head.
âYou donât want it?â Steve asked, suddenly wondering if you had been kidnapped and replaced by a clone. That was the only logical explanation for your behavioral change towards both him and your favorite movie.Â
âKinda bored of complicated romances at the moment. Maybe another day,â Steve slid the movie back under the counter, keeping it there in case you changed your mind. âI heard this one was good though,â you gesture to the copy of Ferris Buellerâs Day Off that you had picked out.Â
âYeah, Robin said that she thinks Iâd like it. Havenât had a chance to watch it yet though,â Steve scanned the tape, fixing his gaze on the computer, where he typed in the code for his employee discount. He did it every time you came in during his shift, thinking he was sly and that youâd never noticed, but you caught on a while ago. It came to light after a rousing argument with Robin about how she had been overcharging you.Â
You pulled a few crumpled bills from your purse, handing them over to Steve. He waited, knowing you were now going to dig around your purse until you found some coins, never willing to pay with anything other than exact change. After a few seconds, you pulled the coins out, two quarters, a dime, and three pennies. You placed them gently in Steveâs extended hand. His palm tingled with the brush of your fingers, quickly sorting the coins to alleviate the sensation. He handed you the bag with your tape when he finished putting your change away. With a small smile, you turned, heading back towards the door you entered through. Just as you were about to place your hand on the large handle and push it open, you stopped. Steve, who had been watching as you walked away, felt that dreaded sense of hope again, the one he felt so often when you were near.
âWhat time do you get done here?â Steveâs eyebrows raised, taken aback by your question. His mouth opened, fumbling for words as he checked his watch.
âThirty-two minutes. Why?â you chuckled at his sudden nervousness. Maybe he really had come a long way from his days as King Steve. King Steve never wouldâve struggled like this when talking to a girl.
âDo you want to watch this with me?â you held up the bag that housed the Ferris Bueller VHS, extending an olive branch. Steveâs response was immediate like he didnât even need to think about it.
âYes,â it was a simple answer, but you just nodded in return, a shy smile creasing the corners of your mouth. âWe can watch it at my place. My TV is bigger,â Steve smirked, regaining his charming and flirty tone, the one youâd gotten so familiar with as a result of all the teasing. You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, smile still cresting your lips, and pushed your way through the exit.
âWhatever you say, Harrington,â you called out behind you, repeating the same words from earlier. Steve laughed, watching your retreating figure, the sway of your hips, and the swell of your ass. He looked at his watch again, still displaying the same time as when he had checked just moments before. Steve groaned into his hands. This was going to be the longest thirty-two minutes of his life.Â
You were enveloped in a book, sitting on your window bench when a light tap sounded off next to you. Thinking it was just the old house creaking or something, you ignored it, eyes scanning the next page. Thatâs when it happened again, and again, and again. You pulled back your curtains and flung open the window only to narrowly avoid getting smacked in the face by a pebble.
âShit, sorry,â Steve swore, his cheeks turning red with guilt and embarrassment. He was standing below your window, pebbles spilling out of his hand. A week or two ago, hell maybe even a few days ago, you wouldâve gone off on him, screaming about nearly hurting you and potentially damaging your window. But now, you just smiled, taking in the sight of the boy next door. Only Steve Harrington could make a romantic gesture nearly turn into a trip to the hospital. âI tried to leave you a message, but your curtains were closed,â you glanced over to his window, spotting the piece of loose leaf taped to it with the words âcome over?â scrawled in black ink.
âGive me two seconds,â you pulled your head back inside, closing the window behind you. As you did, a few of the army men on your window sill fell on their sides, no longer facing the window across the gap between two houses. Snagging the video tape from your desk, you ran down the steps, stopping in front of the mirror hung up in the hallway. Why did you suddenly care how your hair looked around Steve? Brushing off the thought, you continued, opening the front door to be met by the boy next door.Â
âReady?â he asked and you nodded, following as he turned towards his house. You walked closely behind him, catching a whiff of hairspray, lavender, and cologne. Steve led you to the rec room in the basement, which housed the largest television in the Harrington residence. You handed him the tape and he slid it into the VCR before settling on the couch, a good two feet from where you sat. Neither of you mentioned the distance, just watching the movie and laughing at Ferrisâ goofy antics.
As the movie progressed a chill ran through you, goosebumps prickling your skin. The Harringtonâs seemingly liked to keep their basement ice cold. Steve noticed and pulled down the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. He laid it on his lap, extending the end of it towards you. You accepted his silent invitation, closing the gap and sitting close with the blanket wrapped around the two of you. The rest of the movie was spent that way, thighs brushing against one another when either of you moved.
When the credits finally ended, with Ferris Bueller in his bathrobe disappearing from the screen one last time, you felt at ease. You hadnât expected to feel so comfortable with Steve, but it was almost a relief that you managed to get through a whole movie without wanting to kill him.
âThat was so good. Robin was totally right, I loved it. I'm basically Ferris Bueller so it makes sense I guess,â Steve shrugged and you couldnât hold back the laugh that bloomed from your lips at his comment. Steve turned to look at you, a brow arched in confusion at your humor. âWhat?â he asked bluntly, a hint of amusement on his face.
âYou would think that youâre Ferris,â you spoke, looking smug. Steve's lips stretched into a daring grin, curiosity getting the best of him.
âOkay, if Iâm not Ferris then who am I?â Steve leaned in close and you rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder.
âItâs so obvious that youâre Cameron. Sure, the people that donât know you that well might think youâre Ferris, but I know you Steve Harrington, and youâre Cameron fully and completely,â your grin widened with Steveâs look of exasperation. His hand flew to his chest in mock offense.
âWhat the hell makes me Cameron?â his words still had the air of joviality behind them despite his faux wounded front. The corner of your lips faltered then, suddenly reluctant to divulge more about your characterization of the boy before you. You didnât want to tell him what he already knew, that he and Cameron shared a strained relationship with their fathers, both all too afraid of disappointing the men who raised them. That up until recently both boys took all the shit that their fathers gave them, too freighted to stand up to them. You didnât want to say any of it, which was fine because Steve already knew. From the second Cameron appeared on the screen, the voice in the back of Steveâs head pointed out each similarity that they shared. Silence settled over the two of you, smiles fading in the quiet room.
âIf it makes you feel better,â you began, voice small and fingers fidgeting on your lap. Steve wanted to reach over and grab them, encase your fingers with his, but he restrained himself. âCameron was my favorite character in the movie,â you nodded towards the TV screen that now reflected a blank blue shadow over the pair of you. Steve observed your bashful demeanor, thinking about how cute you looked when you got all shy.Â
âYou would definitely be Jeanie,â Steve asserted, breaking through the uncomfortable quiet. Your jaw dropped at the comparison and the smile returned to Steveâs lips at your reaction.
âFerrisâs bitchy sister?â Steve nodded and you shoved him again. He righted himself, continuing to make his point.
âI mean, come on, itâs so obvious,â Steve repeated your words from earlier and you shook your head. âYouâre both a little crazy in a hot way. Not to mention you both go for bad boys,â you glared at Steve, but he could tell you werenât actually mad.
âIâm not into bad boys, asshole,â you defended and Steveâs smirk grew, his rebuttal already concocted in his head.
âOh really? So it wasnât you that hooked up with Billy Hargrove at Tinaâs Halloween party two years ago?â your jaw dropped again, and Steveâs snickering filled the air. He reached over, pressing your chin up to close your mouth. You brushed his hand off of you in confusion.
âHow the hell do you know about that?â you asked, confusion and curiosity coursing through your thoughts. âDid Eddie tell you? I swear to god Iâm never telling him anything ever again,â you crossed your arms, waiting for Steve to talk.
âHargrove used to brag about it to me and try to rub it in my face,â Steve informed you and your face wrinkled, filled with questions. âI guess he thought that it would make me mad since you and I used to be friends or whatever,â Steve shrugged, no longer smiling. He watched you, unsure how you would react to his explanation.Â
âDid it?â you questioned, and Steve shrugged again. He didnât want to tell you that it did, that it took every fiber of his being to restrain himself from punching the blond boyâs stupid face.
âA little,â Steve lied and another silence fell over the room, but it wasnât as tense this time. Steve waited a moment before speaking again, watching the way you avoided his gaze. âWhyâd you even hook up with him? I thought you hated him,â Steveâs voice was quiet, unwilling to break through the low noise barrier that settled between you.
âYou stole my copy of Pride and Prejudice,â you let out a sigh, gaze shifting to your hands that rested in your lap again. Steveâs brow furrowed, confused about the correlation between his question and your response. âIt was the copy my grandma gave me when I was 11. I had notes in the margins on just about every page. You took it from my bag in homeroom the day before the party and refused to give it back,â Steve knew what you were talking about. He couldnât remember why he took it, but he knew that he still had it, tucked away in his closet, in a spot that only he could find.
âBut what does that have to do with Billy?â Steve still didnât understand. Your hands ran over your face as you let out a sigh.
âYou hated him and he hated you. I figured the enemy of my enemy was my friend, which wasnât true by the way. I was super pissed about the book and a little tipsy. I needed to blow off some steam, so one thing led to another and we hooked up in his car after the party,â you were ashamed of it, regret filling you the second it was over. âI didnât know that he was such a douchebag when it happened. If I had known how badly he treated Max and Lucas then I never wouldâve done it,â you explained, still unable to meet Steveâs gaze, embarrassed by your past. Steveâs hand extended, tilting your chin with his finger, allowing your eyes to finally meet his.
âI shouldn't have taken your book, Baby,â Steve whispered and you gave him a soft smile in return. The nickname rang through the air and reverberated off the walls. Hearing it didnât bother you for some reason. For the first time in years, the word didnât sting as it fell from Steveâs lips. Maybe the tide finally turned, the war nearly over. It gave you a sense of courage, making you brave enough to let your next question out in the open.
âWhen Billy bragged about it, what did he say?â Steve was taken aback, wondering why you would want to know. Billyâs words were far from nice, if anything they were disrespectful and an invasion of privacy. But the way you looked at Steve now told him that you genuinely wanted to know, needed to know.
âIt was really depraved stuff, like how your body felt against him,â Steve started and you nodded, motioning with your hands for him to continue. âHe said you would start to breathe heavily when he kissed your neck. That you did this thing with your tongue when you kissed that felt insanely good. He said you moaned his name like it was made just for you to say it. That your thighs shook when youâŚâ Steve trailed off, face flushed and unwilling to finish his sentence. He had started speaking slower with each sentence, despite the racing of his heart. The tension floated thick in the air, crowding the room and making it way too hot for the blanket draped over your lap. Steve wasnât sure when his hand had dropped to your lap, brushing between your legs from over the blanket.
Your eyes were glued to Steveâs, unaware of the distance that disappeared between you with each passing second. His breath mingled with yours, tingling against your skin. Your tongue darted out, bringing moisture to your dry lips. The heat between your thighs ached to be relieved, wishing Steveâs hand would travel higher up your thigh as his jeans tightened at the sight of your gaze alone. The blue from the TV screen that coated the room disappeared as your eyes fluttered shut. Both sets of lips were centimeters from meeting in the middle when the VCR popped out the tape, landing with a loud smack on the ground. Steve had leaned on the remote while moving closer toward you, accidentally pressing the eject button. He knew he needed to fix the VCR, worried about its tendency to spit out tapes rather than the slow half push it was supposed to do, but heâd put it off, too tired after a long day of work. You broke apart at the sound, creating more distance as you moved the blanket from your legs and scrambled back, Steveâs hand falling into the now empty space. Neither of you could look up at the other.
âI wish we stayed friends when we were in middle school,â Steve said after a long span of silence. He never wanted to be your enemy, never wanted to drive you into the arms of an undeserving man. Your eyes met then, his were glassy, which was something you hadnât expected.Â
âYeah, me too,â your voice was small but sure, words speaking nothing but the truth. You didnât remind him why you werenât, something you wouldâve done a week ago. Instead, you sat in agreement, pondering how different your life would be.
âI wonder what would've changed,â he spoke. It was soft, almost a whisper, and you longed to be close to him again. To feel his words fan across your lips instead of the empty space beside you. âIf I wouldâve been friends with Tommy, if I wouldâve dated Nancy, if weâd be off at a college somewhere instead of this shithole town,â Steve was louder now, melancholy mixed with underlying anger. Even if you were finally able to be friends now, Steve couldnât help but think about the time he missed out on with you and all the other lingering what-ifs.Â
âWe could still get out one day. Leave the teen angst and trauma behind,â you sounded normal again, reassuring to Steveâs overactive thoughts. âMaybe we could go together,â Steveâs heart leaped out of his chest at your words, but he reeled it back in. It was still new, being able to talk without words slicing into the otherâs skin. You looked at him with anticipatory eyes, awaiting his response.
âJust give me the signal Baby and we can be out of here before sunrise,â Steve extended his hand, this was a deal to shake on, a long-term agreement that one day youâd run away together. You grinned, accepting his outstretched hand, wondering about where youâd go. Considering if you were in love with Steve Harrington, if you always had been. Dying to know if he was in love with you too.
A friend to all is a friend to noneÂ
           Autumn had officially begun, a chill in the air that persuaded the orange leaves to tumble from the trees. It was your favorite time of year, though you couldnât help the twinge of sadness that swelled in your heart at the thought of leaving the warm summer sun behind. Eddie insisted that you come to visit him at work, his desperation ringing out through the static of the phone. After a few minutes of groveling, you caved and agreed to go, which is how you ended up banished to the backseat of Steveâs car on the way to the record store on main street. Robin had called shotgun, but you didnât mind, having the entire backseat to yourself and stretching out your legs. Steveâs car smelled like pine trees and leather, hairspray and cologne, as it rolled along the pavement.Â
Steve pulled up to a parking spot in front of the record store, placing his hand on the passenger seat headrest as he threw the car in reverse. He turned his head towards the carâs rear, watching carefully as he backed into a spot, shooting you a wink before he faced the front again. You couldnât help the warmth that spread over your cheeks, feeling like a bumbling schoolgirl with a crush. Ever since your movie night, your almost kiss, things had been different with Steve. Sure, there was still some teasing and the typical dirty innuendos, but it didnât sting the way it used to. It didnât evolve into slammed windows and drawn curtains, loud arguments and bruised egos. Something new coursed through your veins, your heart beating just to hear the sound of his voice. It was scary, the rush of feelings that youâd seemingly repressed for years, hidden under what you thought was hate.Â
âYou coming or what?â Robin leaned back into Steveâs car to face you. The thoughts of Steve had distracted you and you only now noticed that they had already exited the car. You followed suit, unbuckling and sliding across the seat to get out on Steveâs side. He greeted you with an arm slung around your shoulder, purposely messing up your hair in the process. You swatted at him, smoothing your hair back down as you walked through the storeâs entrance together. Music wafted down from the speakers that littered the ceiling and you instantly knew that Eddie had picked out whatever metal song was playing. As if he could hear the mention of his name in your thoughts, Eddie appeared in front of you, grabbing ahold of your wrist and dragging you towards the front counter. Meanwhile, Robin and Steve headed towards the back, searching for some Abba vinyl that Steve had been wanting for ages. The absence of Steveâs arm around your shoulder left you with a chill, the tingle brought on by his touch subsiding, but you brushed it aside following the long-haired boy.Â
You went behind the counter with Eddie, hopping up to sit in the space between the cash register and the pile of records stacked to the left. It was a familiar spot for you, somewhere youâd sat a million times, much to Eddieâs managerâs dismay. In this spot, youâd talk about dates that you went on, someone from high school who got knocked up or married, a new song Eddie was working on, and your hatred for Steve Harrington. But this time was different. Eddie remained silent as you perched before him, crossing his arms over his chest and peering at you with knowing eyes. He came to stand in front of you, his stomach brushing against your knees. You glared at him in response, already knowing the words that were about to crest his lips.
âYou and Harrington have been awfully close lately,â a smirk danced across his face, arms uncrossing, hands landing to rest on your knees. You narrowed your eyes, placing your hands behind you, and leaning back on them.
âWeâre sort of friends now, I guess,â you shrugged and Eddie leaned in even closer, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead as if he was testing your temperature. You smacked his hand away, earning a yelp in response. The grin reappeared on Eddieâs lips as he shook his hand to alleviate the pain caused by your slap.Â
âFriends, huh?â you nodded as his question, eyeing Eddie for his next move. Someone entered the store, the chime of the bell over the door alerting the both of you. But the two of you didnât flinch, didnât even spare the new customer a glance, too enveloped in your weird standoff staring contest. Instead, Eddie called out his standard greeting, welcoming the person to Rad Records, as his eyes roamed over you, searching for an unspecified answer. âJust friends, nothing more?â Eddie finally continued, needing more evidence to make his case, to find the answer to his unasked question. And you gave it to him, eyes darting away from his and legs beginning to bounce. Eddieâs jaw dropped, a gasp seeping from the open space between his lips.
âShut the fuck up, Edward,â you rushed out, clamping your hand over his slack jaw. Eddieâs wide eyes trailed from you to Steve and back. His lips moved behind your hand, trying to speak, but you shushed him, refusing to let go until he calmed down. You cringed at the swipe of his tongue against your palm, but still held on tight. After a few seconds, Eddie stopped and you took it as a sign to set him free. Your hand retracted, falling limply onto your lap, where you wiped his saliva onto your jeans.
âHoly shit. You like him. You actually, consciously, like him,â Eddie whisper-yelled at you and it took a considerable amount of effort to not spontaneously combust at his words. Itâs one thing to finally admit it to yourself, itâs another to hear it spoken out loud. Still, you felt like there was a ritual you had to play along with, like you had to deny the accusation.
âI so do not,â you spoke stubbornly, but Eddie could hear the give in your voice, knowing the truth.
âYou totally do. The fact that itâs taken you this long to realize is insane,â Robin spoke up from behind you, startling you with her sudden appearance. You looked beside her, expecting to see Steve, but he wasnât there. You didnât know whether to be sad or relieved by his absence from the conversation.
âWhere is Steve anyway?â you shifted on the counter, making space for Robin to rest her elbows next to you. Robin nodded towards the back of the store. Steveâs figure was obscured by the towering displays that littered the room.
âSome guy that he knew from the basketball team came in and started talking to him. Steve called him Jumpy or something. I dipped out as soon as I could, so Steveâs stuck back there now,â you cringed at the name that fell from Robinâs lips. Jumpy was the dumbass nickname of Allen Peterson, some douchebag that was friends with Tommy.
âUgh, he and Tommy once broke into the girlâs locker room during gym and stole my clothes. I had to walk around in my gym uniform for the rest of the day. It was humiliating,â a frown bloomed on your lips, one that was echoed by Eddie and Robin.Â
âI remember that. They somehow never got caught,â Eddieâs eyes trailed to the back of the store, still unable to spot Steve. âYou want me to kick him out?â Eddieâs eyebrows raised in question, almost begging for the chance to kick someone out of the store. But you shook your head, tapping his shoulder so heâd move out of the way. He did, stepping to the side, allowing you to slide down from the glass counter.
âI want to see if he remembers me. Maybe mess with him a bit,â Eddie and Robin waved you off as you walked towards the back, the top of Steveâs perfectly styled hair coming into view as you got closer. You approached from behind Steve, not able to get a good view of his face. You were still hidden, questioning whether you should continue with your plan or not. Wondering if Allen would do something to upset you, tease you, and make you feel small. But Steve was there, and how could he hurt you when the boy you loved was standing by your side? Just as you were about to take a step out, you heard something, Allenâs voice.Â
âDude, I canât believe youâve been hanging out with such losers,â Allenâs words elicited a soft scoff from your lips. He peaked in high school but here he was calling you a loser? You wished you could see Steveâs face, to know what was running through his mind, the witty comeback that was sure to leave his lips any second now. But it didnât. All you heard was the smooth sound of his laugh dancing through the store.
âCome on, man. Theyâre not that bad,â you brushed off Steveâs weak, delayed defense. At least he stood up for you in some regard, thatâs what matters.
âNah man, that Baby chick is nuts. I remember how weird she was in high school, always crying over something. Sometimes I just wanted to bend her over and give her something to cry about, you know?â Allen mimed thrusting his hips as his words hung in the air. It made you feel dirty and violated, like he had already touched you in the way he said that he wanted to. The boy viewed you as an object, nothing more than something to be used to satisfy his needs. Your eyes bore into the back of Steveâs head, willing him to speak up on your behalf. To defend you, to protect you, to punch this asshole in the face. But Steve was never good at defending you and all he did was laugh again. That irritatingly coy laugh, the one that set off alarm bells whenever you heard it. The laugh that belonged to the reigning king, not the boy you loved.
âOh yeah, totally. One good screw would straighten her right out,â at that moment you couldâve sworn that the entire town could hear your heart as it shattered. You werenât really sure when you revealed yourself from your hiding spot behind the bookshelf, but your eyes locked with Allenâs, and his stupid smirk dropped. Steve tracked his gaze, spinning on his heels to see you, tears welling in the corners of your eyes, forehead creased, and red-hot anger coursing through you. You turned, moving as fast as you could towards the exit at the front of the store. Steve chased behind you, his hand catching your arm right after you passed through the door. Eddie and Robin looked alarmed at the sight of you both stopped before the storeâs glass front.
âLet go of me,â you spoke hotly, cursing the strength of Steveâs grip. Steveâs eyes roamed over you, catching the flicker of hurt that flashed across your face before you restored it to its angry glare.Â
âI didnât mean it. Itâs just-â Steve began, but you quickly cut him off, still trying to wrangle your arm from his grasp.
âI donât give a shit what you meant, Harrington. I thought you changed. I forgave you for all the shit you put me through. Guess I wrong to think you were capable of being a decent person,â Steveâs eyes watered at your words, hating himself for making you doubt him and how he feels for you.
âI have changed. I donât know why I said that shit,â Steve pleaded, he wanted you to understand, to give him five minutes to explain himself. But Steve knew this was it, youâd already made your decision, it wouldnât matter even if he got down on his knees and begged. Heâd broken your trust, said shit he didnât mean, and now heâd lost you again, the same way he did years before, the way he never wanted to again. Steve let go of your arm, giving you the freedom you asked for when you first left the record store with him in tow. Your arm felt numb, empty, without Steveâs hand there, and you cursed your stupid heart for not wanting him to let go.
âI guess old habits die hard, Harrington. Stay the fuck out of my life,â your words spat from deep within you, fire coating each syllable. Steve watched as you turned, making your way down the sidewalk and turning into an alleyway between two stores. Eddie and Robin burst through the record storeâs entrance, ignoring the autumn chill that they were greeted with as they did. Steve wiped his eyes, glad to have tears clouding his vision because he was not sure he could stand to see his best friend's face as he recounted the past few minutes to her. Eddie looked to Steve, silently asking where you went, and Steve lifted his hand pointing in your direction. Eddie took off, turning the corner to the alley to find you slumped on the ground, knees to your chest and head in your hands. He approached you slowly, pulling you into him when he finally got close enough. Sobs racked your body, chest heaving against Eddieâs as he held you in a tight hug, knees resting on the cement below.Â
âI hate him, Eds. I fucking hate him,â Eddie nodded in understanding, stroking your hair and pulling it from where it stuck to your tear-stained cheeks. âI shouldâve known heâd break my heart again. I shouldâve known not to let myself fall in love with him,â your tears soaked Eddieâs shirt and he froze, stuck on the words that fell from your lips. Love. Sure, heâd known you liked Steve, but love was different. Love meant more hurt. It held more weight. It meant that you set aside the past and moved on. It meant you finally gave in to the feelings that gnawed at your heart and your brain each night. It meant that Steve really fucked up.
Chasing shadows in the grocery line
           Steveâs car finally peeled away and flew down main street, signaling to Eddie that the coast was clear. He walked you back to the now barren record store, save for his co-worker Terry, who was in the back unpacking a new shipment. Eddie asked Terry to cover for him and when Terry saw your tear-stained cheeks and red puffy eyes, he agreed, no questions asked. So Eddie put you in the passenger seat of his van and sped off down the road. You didnât ask where he was going when he passed the street that led to your house, already knowing where he was taking you.Â
           Eddieâs van stopped abruptly in front of his trailer. Wayneâs car was gone, signaling that heâd already left for work, leaving the trailer empty. It was getting dark, gloomy clouds blocking the sun as the moon rose in the sky opposite it. The porch lights flickered on, illuminating the shadows of your face through the cracked windshield. You caught sight of Lucasâ bike through the back window. It was lying on its side outside of Maxâs trailer, thrown in haste. Normally it wouldâve made you laugh, elicit a joke about young lovebirds to fall from your lips, but right now you couldnât even will the corners of your lips to curl into a faint smile.Â
Eddie opened your car door, gently lifting you by your waist and placing you on the ground. You followed him inside, trailing behind him like a lost, heartbroken puppy with nowhere else to go. He led you to his room, indicating for you to sit on his bed, so you did. Eddie placed a soft kiss on your forehead, the kind a mother gives her child, and lifted your arms. He disrobed you of your heavy knit sweater, your way of protecting yourself from the autumn winds that pierced the air, and replaced it with one of his Black Sabbath shirts. You unclipped your bra through the shirt, pulling it out of your sleeve before tossing it to the floor. The action always amazed Eddie, drawing a laugh from his lips, but this time he remained quiet, too concerned over you to pay attention to much else. Next, Eddie unlaced your shoes, pulling them from your feet. You shimmied from your pants after, throwing them across the room, uncaring where they landed.Â
With a shaky breath, you laid down, facing the wall, your back turned to Eddie. Eddie pulled off his leather jacket, shucked off his jeans, and moved towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you, Eddieâs body now close to yours. He pulled the bed sheets up to cover you both before draping his arm across your torso. You relaxed into him a bit, fingers and legs intertwining with one another. It was a familiar position, one you and Eddie had shared a million times, but his comforting touch wasnât working quite the same as it normally did. Not when your heart hurt this much.
Eddie wanted to ask what happened, pester you with questions, and uncover the truth, but he refrained, knowing youâd speak up when the time was right. His heart ached at the feel of your body shaking against his, small sobs springing from deep within your chest no matter how much you wanted them to stop. Eddie only held you tighter, his arms practically crushing your ribs as his own tears began to well in his eyes. You stayed like that for a while, long after the sun fully sank beneath the horizon, leaving the room in complete consuming darkness. The wind caused sapling branches to scrape against the window, becoming the only sound to fill the lingering silence. You stopped crying after a while, wishing you could sleep the pain away, but remaining unsuccessful in your attempts.Â
Finally, you gave up, shifting to face Eddie, your forehead pressed to his. Breath intermingling, comforting you, letting you know that, yes, your heart may be broken, but you were still alive. Eddie studied you, unsure whether he should be the first to speak or not, but you quickly quelled that thought when you opened your mouth.
âDo you think youâll ever leave Hawkins?â your question threw Eddie off, his brows scrunching in confusion. Itâs not what he expected you to say.Â
âNot unless the band takes off, and certainly not without Wayne,â Eddie had thought about it before, considered moving to a big city where the lights never dimmed and the gigs would never end. But as much as Hawkins may have hated him, he could never hate it in return. Heâd get sick of the city noise and never be able to sleep, craving to hear the chirp of crickets and cicadas instead. So when you asked, he was sure of his answer. But he didnât echo your question back to you, already knowing that your answer would be a resounding yes. It would be tough for you to leave everyone behind, but you longed for something different, somewhere new to help escape the past and finally look forward to the future. Eddie was lost in thought, still wondering why you asked that when you spoke again.
âHeâs exactly who I thought he was,â it was a whisper, one that could easily be lost, left hanging in the air with no one around to hear it echo off the peeling walls. But Eddie heard it, he absorbed your words from the silent room, wanting to know more, so you continued. âI thought he was different now, but it turns out heâs still the same, too wrapped up in caring about what others think,â fresh tears sprang in your eyes, a sob tightening your throat as you spoke. âIâm tired of fighting against his undying need to be liked. Iâm tired of losing against it every goddamn time. Iâm done,â there was a finality to your tone, one that caused Eddie to lift his head from his pillow, a questioning look on his face.
âSweetheart, do you want me to talk to him? Figure out whatâs running through his head?â Eddie offered, but he knew the gesture would be wasted on you. Once you set your mind to it, it was done. But he wanted you to hear Steve out. He wanted you to find a way to reconcile your differences. For all the pain and confusion that Steve Harrington brought, he also filled you with joy and light. Youâd been happier throughout the past few weeks than Eddie had ever seen you, illuminating rooms simply by entering them. Eddie didnât want that to disappear, to be forever obscured by a compilation of closed curtains and avoidant gazes. But he was met with a furious shake of your head.
âNo, Eds. I mean it. No more Steve,â Eddie nodded despite the voice in his head yelling at him to speak up and try to change your mind. It was no use. He rolled onto his back, one arm resting under his head, the other still laid across you. You shifted too, laying with your chest pressed to Eddieâs stomach, head resting just below his. âI wish it was you that I loved. Itâd be much simpler that way,â youâre not sure why you said it, maybe the cloud that formed in your head from the dayâs events expanded, spilling all of your hazy thoughts through your lips. It was a sad wish, an empty hurt with truth behind it. But Eddie understood, his own thoughts reflecting yours, the telepathy finally working in a way. He wanted to take away your pain in any way he could, but not like this. Not when your heart was beaten black and blue, longing for a simple ceasefire to mend your open wounds. Not when that same heart belonged to another, an echoed call through the woods waiting for the birds in the treetops to sing back with an affirmative answer. Eddie loved you, but not in the way the both of you currently wished for. An irrefutable loyalty that would consciously be limited to platonic fellowship, no romance lingering from either party in the way you held each other close.
âIâm sorry, Baby,â Eddieâs whisper slid through the strands of your hair, a soft kiss placed overtop of it. Youâd grown quiet by then, breath evening out as you were finally granted your wish for sleep. Falling deep into a slumber where you were still five and Steve Harrington tucked flowers behind your ears as he whispered to you about love.
Days had passed, an endless stream of the same heartache and emptiness that blended each rise and fall of the sun together, making it difficult to distinguish one from the next. Robin called you probably a million times, but you refused to come to the phone. Your parents opted to unplug the phone from the wall for a few days, growing tired of the incessant ringing. You knew she just wanted to talk about Steve, but that was something you couldnât quite handle yet. Youâd only plugged the phone back in to call out of work, letting them know you had a nasty stomach bug, not caring if they believed you or not. The curtains in your room remained closed with the little army men on the window sill replaced in their defensive stance. To you, this was war.Â
On the fifth day of refusing to depart from beneath your bed sheets, your mom entered your room, messing with the knick-knacks that covered your dresser as she did. A custom D20 from Dustin, a kazoo Eddie gave you for your birthday one year joking about how you could be Corroded Coffinâs lead kazoo player, a mixtape Robin lent you ages ago, a new pack of colored pencils youâd been meaning to give to Will, and a flower that had been dried and pressed into a glittery bookmark, all littered your dresserâs surface. Your mom grabbed the bookmark, admiring the way the lavender flower retained its shape despite being flattened so many years ago. It was the same lavender that grew from the ground beneath your bedroom window, decorating the grass between the Harringtonâs house and your own. You watched closely as she eyed the bookmark, curiosity flooding your thoughts.Â
âI remember making this with you,â she spoke softly, a gentle cadence meant to comfort you, and it sort of did. âYou came running inside with the flower and insisted that we save it. You said it was too important to let die,â she sat on the edge of your bed, bookmark still glinting in the soft glow of the lamplight. You propped yourself up on your elbows, wondering where she was going with all of this. She handed you the bookmark then, and you took it, confused, examining it as if youâd never seen it before.Â
âI donât remember that,â your voice was hoarse from crying. It didnât help that you hadnât properly spoken out loud in days, too congested with the bustling thoughts running laps around your mind.
âYou were five. And if I remember correctly a certain boy had been the one to pick the flower for you,â you understood then, she was talking about Steve. Part of you felt betrayed, like your mother was providing aid for the enemy, but the other part of you wanted to know more, why she wanted to talk about this, especially now. âWe always assumed the two of you would be friends, lovers even,â she wagged her eyebrows at you and the corners of your lips ticked up at the gesture. âSo it was strange to see the distance that grew between you, the pain you caused each other. Iâd always hoped youâd resolve your differences, and fall back into the same ease you had as kids, but I know itâs more complicated than that,â her hand reached up, brushing softly against your cheek. You hadnât realized that you were crying until her fingers swiped over the fallen tears. âI love you, my Baby,â her words were a whisper, gentle lips pressed to your forehead. She patted your leg through your comforter, standing up as she did. On her way to the door, she stopped, turning back to look at you. âMaybe some fresh air might help. A trip to the store?â she suggested and for some reason you nodded, actually thinking that it would be nice to leave your bed for a bit. She smiled, making her way out of your room to grab the grocery list for you. As she rounded the corner, one foot out the door, she couldnât help but notice the tight grip you kept on the bookmark in your hand. The flower within it that was always in bloom. Something that could never die.
You opted to go to the store alone, wanting to drive with the windows down and the music up, drowning out the overcrowded space in your head. It was nice to leave the house, to be in an open space with autumn in the air. The crisp leaves crunched under your tires as you pulled into the grocery parking lot. You were so concerned about making sure that you had the list your mom gave you that you completely missed the maroon BMW parked on the opposite end of the lot. Once you had the list, you grabbed a cart, its wheels squeaking loudly as you made your way down aisles, grabbing item after item off the shelves.
There was only one thing left on your list, a bag of tortilla chips, which was your dadâs favorite snack food for some odd reason. You almost chuckled to yourself seeing how his scratchy handwriting interrupted your momâs pristine list. With a squeal of protest from the shopping cartâs wheels, you turned the corner, eyes roaming over the chip options in front of you. You finally found what you were looking for and stood up on your tiptoes, the top shelf being just a bit too high for you to reach. A warmth washed over you as someone leaned into your space, large hands retrieving the bag and offering it to you. Your breath stopped for a moment and you found yourself unable to move.
âIâm just gonna put these in here then,â Steve spoke softly, placing the chip bag into your cart when you froze. He looked tired, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His hair was flat, almost greasy looking, lacking his usual abundance of hairspray and product. Steve watched you, the way you shrunk at the sight of him and he felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest. He never wanted to hurt you, to make you feel less than what you were. And to Steve, you were everything. Steve opened his mouth to speak, an apology sputtering from his lips, but the sight snapped you out of your stupor, suddenly springing to action.
âI told you to stop apologizing to me,â your voice was firm and cold, nothing like the ease it held back at Family Video the last time he tried to right his wrongs.Â
âJust let me explain, please,â he pleaded, eyes soft, a glimmer of familiarity in them. For a moment you almost let him, finding yourself more than willing to listen to the boy speak. You were reminded of the comfort you found in the sound of his voice recently, the swell it brought to your chest. But that vanished when you remembered the way he laughed when talking to Allen, his vile words leaving your glass heart shattered across the record storeâs stained carpet. It felt like a slap to the face, a cut on your cheek, a crack in your rib. You meant what you said, you were done with him. The boy before you showed no growth. He was still the same boy who called you names, taunted you in the halls, stole your favorite book, and scared off the boys you liked.Â
âNo,â it was stony and resolute, an end to the conversation. You pushed your cart away, leaving Steve behind, your shadow cascading over him as you did. You made your way to the register and Steve followed close behind. He got in line behind you, but he stayed quiet, unsure what to say. He only had two things in his basket, which made his checkout go by quickly. By the time he got out to the parking lot, you were still there, placing the hefty grocery bags into your trunk.
âLet me make it up to you,â Steve startled you, appearing at your side out of nowhere. âI swear I've changed, I promise. I care about you, so much,â you slammed your trunk closed, wheeling your cart back to where it belonged. Steve followed you, but you stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge his pleas. He stood in front of your car door then, blocking it so you couldnât get in. âI donât want to lose you again. Let me show you I care. Let me prove it,â he looked like he was on the verge of tears. Part of you wanted to reach out and hold his face in your hands. The other part wanted to hurt him more, make him feel what you felt. The latter won.Â
âYou canât prove shit to me, Harrington. I donât believe it, any of it. Youâre still the same stupid boy you were when we were 11, and I fucking hate you for it,â you spat and Steveâs face hardened. You wanted him to yell back at you, to prove that he felt something for you, something worth fighting for. But he didnât. He simply stepped aside, a new slump in his posture as he let you go. His gaze followed the battered silhouette of your car as it drove off, a wisp of fallen leaves and Steveâs shredded heart trailing behind it.
When you got home you stormed inside, leaving the groceries in the car for your parents to unload. You fell back into your bed, resuming the same position you held before you went to the grocery store. It took some time, anger encapsulating your every fiber, but eventually, you fell asleep, putting the situation with Steve aside as you escaped to the peace of your dreams.Â
You awoke the next morning, groggy and sore. Rolling onto your back, you caught a glimpse of something from the corner of your eye, something that was out of place. Your body groaned as you arose, hesitant steps towards your desk, hands slowly lifting the object. It was a book, but not just any book. It was Pride and Prejudice, the copy that your grandmother gave you years ago, the one that was taken from you. You flipped through the pages, fingers tracing the words youâd penciled in on the margins. Stuck between its pages was a bookmark, your bookmark, with lavender and specks of glitter decorating it.Â
You sat back on your bed, wondering why the book was returned so suddenly and out of the blue. Your mom was the one to put it in your room, marking its pages with the bookmark, but Steve had been the one to take it years ago. Why did he keep it? Why give it back now? Was this the end? A bookend in your tumultuous relationship with the boy next door? A post-it note fell from between the bookâs pages and you leaned down to grab it. Written in Steveâs messy scrawl was one word.Â
âPlease.â
And youâd come back to me
           The note was metaphorically stuck in your head, lingering like a bad dream that you couldnât wake from. It didnât help that it was physically stuck to your nightstand, its fluorescent green shade haunting you with each passing glance. But you just couldnât will yourself to throw it away. It was a life preserver tossed to you after falling overboard, a worm on a hook meant to reel you in, a last attempt to fix what had been broken, to reconcile with Steve. You meant it when you said you were done, but the ache inside you longed to be quelled. And there was only one person that could do that. The least you could do was hear him out. Find closure, nothing more, or so you told yourself.Â
A few days had passed since your encounter at the grocery store and you finally felt brave enough to face Steve again. You knew he was home given that his car had scarcely left the driveway in the past few days. Your legs felt wobbly, knees knocking as you marched in the dark through your lawn, crossing over onto the Harringtonâs property. It was late, but you knew heâd still be awake, just as plagued with his thoughts as you were. You jabbed the doorbell with your finger, waiting nervously for the door to open, to see the boy that plagued your thoughts. But it didnât. So you rang it again, and again, and again. Repeatedly pressing the button until the door finally cracked open.
âI donât want whatever youâre selling, man,â Steve began but stopped when he saw you, straightening his slumped shoulders. He looked worse than he had at the grocery store like he hadnât slept in days. He let the door hang open as he gaped at you, unable to form words. You took advantage of the open space, slipping inside his house before he could stop you. Steve shut the door, turning to see what you were doing, but youâd already made your way upstairs to his room.Â
His room was pretty much the same as it had been the last time you were there, back when the world almost ended. Clothes strewn across the floor, trophies lining small shelves, movie posters galore. You noticed a new poster though, one for Ferris Buellerâs Day Off. Steve finally caught up to you, his perpetual gloominess temporarily taken over by confusion as to why you were suddenly here in his house. You sat on the edge of his bed and he followed suit, worry filling his entire being. Was this the end? Did you come to say goodbye? Steveâs heart beat rapidly in his chest, panic rising in his throat when you finally spoke.
âYou said you wanted to explain, so explain,â your voice was soft and quiet, a tone completely unlike the one you used when you were mad. Steve was baffled, wanting to know what made you decide to hear him out, but he knew better than to waste what very well could be his last chance with you.
âI didnât mean what I said in the record store. I didnât mean any of it. I wanted to beat the shit out of Allen when he said that stuff,â Steveâs hands shook as he spoke, watching your face for any sign of emotion. He wanted to know what you were thinking, wished he could read your mind. But he couldnât, so he continued. âItâs like every time Iâm around someone from high school, I get pushed aside and someone else takes control of what I say. Someone that reminds me a lot of my father,â angry tears welled in Steveâs eyes. He hated that after all these years his dad still had such an impact on him and the way he acted.
âSteve,â you spoke up, still emotionless in your tone. But Steve stopped you, wanting to continue, practically begging you with his glassy eyes to let him. So you did.
âI know it's not an excuse, and it's so so shitty of me. But heâs just there in the back of my head reminding me that Harringtonâs are winners,â a tear dripped down his cheek and it took a great deal of restraint from you to not reach out and brush it away. âI hate that I let him win. I hate that I ever betrayed your trust, that I was so mean to you in school, that I let you out of my life. I hate that I let Allen get away with what he said, that I agreed with him instead, because I donât. I think youâre beyond perfect the way you are. I donât want to change anything about you,â Steve stopped for a moment unsure if youâd let him continue. Little did he know that your breath had caught in your chest and extinguished any words that might have spilled from your lips.
âI never ever want to hurt you again,â Steve continued when you didnât say anything. âI promise, I wonât. I want to be better, I want to be the boy you trusted when we were kids. I care about you so unbelievably much. I never stopped, not once. Please let me prove it,â heâd moved closer to you and you let him, trying your best to keep your feelings hidden from your expression. You were close to breaking, to giving in, to letting yourself be unequivocally in love with Steve Harrington. But you still had to put up a fight, to prove it was the right choice, not just a never-ending loop of pain.
âIâve given you so many chances, Steve. How do I know this one would be any different?â you couldnât look at him, knowing youâd lose all your resolve if you did. So your eyes fell to your lap instead. Steve watched your avoidant gaze, wanting more than anything for you to face him.
âBecause I love you,â it was firm and unwavering, a declaration spilled from Steveâs cracked lips. It snapped your attention to him immediately, granting Steve his previous wish. âI always have, even when we were kids. I got confused when popularity came into play, but it was still there, in the back of my mind. I didnât know what it was then, but I do now, and Iâll do anything for you, anything to keep you with me,â Steve grew shy, still unable to tell how you feel. âI want you in any way that youâll have me. Anything is fine with me as long as I have you back in my life. I just canât lose you,â Steve finished, leaving his words in the air for you to respond. You took your time to collect your own thoughts, to steady the thump of your heart in your chest.
âSteve,â it was soft, gentle, longing, matching the tone Steve hoped to hear. âI donât want to lose you either,â the words halted Steveâs heart in his chest. He hoped this was it, that you loved him the way he loved you. âI want to trust you again, but you have to earn it. We can't just keep hurting each other,â you asserted and Steve nodded wildly. You wanted to laugh at the way his hair flopped around on his head as he did it, but you refrained, simply letting a smile crest your lips instead. Steveâs lips matched yours, curling at the edges, and soon you found yourselves incapable of holding back the soft chuckles that rose in your throat.
Steveâs eyes never left you, admiring the smile heâd so dearly missed seeing. He only ever wanted for you to be happy, only wanted you to know youâre loved. And from here on out, heâd make sure that you were. You leaned forward resting your forehead against Steveâs, one last ditch attempt at your silly determination to communicate telepathically. It never worked with Eddie, so why not try it with Steve, the boy you loved since you were five. It would ease the tension, tell Steve what your lips were too scared to say.
âWhat am I thinking?â you asked, hands coming up to hold Steveâs shoulders in place. His hands wrapped around you, resting on your waist, feeling your scarred skin through the thin material of your shirt. Steve scoured his mind, focusing on you, the soft reflection of light in your eyes, the way your lips were dry and cracked, the curve of your cheekbones. You were more than beautiful to him, you were angelic, bewitching, radiant. You were everything he ever wanted and needed.
âThat you like me too?â Steve put on his smug charm, trying to cover up his nervousness. It made you want to laugh, to kiss him, to tell him the truth.
âSo close, Stevie. I was thinking more along the lines of love, but if thatâs what youâre getting then, sure, we can go with that,â you shrugged jovially, a smile stretched across your cheeks as Steveâs jaw went slack. His eyes watched you for any sign of doubt, of mockery, but he couldnât find any. He knew it then, you loved him too. Steve found your gaze, eyes whispering to him in their own secret language. Kiss me, they said, and who was he to deny them of their wish? Steve pulled you in, grip tightening on your waist as he did. Your chest was suddenly flush with his, your body now resting in his lap, lips only a breath away from meeting. It was a last chance to bow out, to give it up for good, but you didnât want to. You tilted your chin, finally closing the gap and brushing your lips against Steveâs. The kiss was encompassed by every flower heâd ever picked for you, every peek behind closed curtains, every taunt and tease and fight, every innuendo, every unseen longing gaze, every utterance of the name Baby, all wrapped together. It felt like winning a game of hide-and-seek that had been called off after an hour of unsuccessful searching, a ring of smoke clinging to the air and lingering high only to be dissipated by the summer breeze, a ceasefire on the battlefield for a war that had gone on too long. It felt like Steve, and you couldnât get enough of it. His lips danced with yours, never wanting to feel anything but the crush of you against him. But eventually, you ran out of air, pulling back enough to breathe, still keeping your forehead pressed to his.
âI think I knew you loved me because I always loved you too,â Steveâs words were breathy, softened with the heave of his chest. Your smile flashed through your heavy breaths and hot cheeks. Steve Harrington loved you, and you loved him too. It would take some getting used to, but you liked the sound of it. You couldnât hold back any longer, leaning back in to reattach your lips to his.Â
A moan mixed in with the kiss, grumbling up from Steveâs throat. His hands shifted down past your waist, landing on your ass with a light squeeze. You laughed at the gesture, keeping your lips pressed against his, and Steveâs heart melted at the sound. But he didnât have long to linger on the feeling, because your hips rolled against his crotch, catching him off guard. Steveâs mouth opened a bit at the feeling, eliciting a groan from deep within him. You took advantage of the opportunity and slid your tongue against Steveâs. You did the move that you always did, a roll of your tongue against his, and Steveâs fingers dug deeper into your skin.
âFuck, is that the tongue thing that Hargrove was talking about?â Steve asked, pulling away for just a second before attaching his lips to the column of your neck.Â
âI donât want to talk about Billy right now, okay?â you gasped as Steveâs teeth bit into the sensitive spot on your neck. You felt heat flush straight to your core and a whimper slipped from your lips. Steve was mesmerized, enthralled with the sweet sounds you made and the way your breaths picked up.
âNoted,â Steve spoke against your neck, sending vibrations down your spine. He worked his way back up to your lips, hand trailing under your shirt. You flinched when his hand brushed your scar, his cool fingers causing goosebumps to prickle your skin. You always had to lie to your hookups about where the scars came from, but you didnât need to with Steve. He knew you. He had matching wounds. Steve pulled away, worried about the way you shuddered when he came into contact with the healed skin. But you just lifted your arms above your head, signaling for Steve to remove your shirt. The soft fabric slid from your skin, leaving your chest exposed. Youâd foregone a bra that morning, and given the entranced look on Steveâs face at the sight of your bare breasts, you were really glad that you did. His hands gravitated towards your chest, cupping it gently. Steveâs thumbs came to rest on your nipples, brushing back and forth over them, evoking a delicious moan from your lips.
His mouth found yours again, and you couldnât help the way your hips began to grind against his, craving friction to satisfy the heat pooling between your legs. You removed Steveâs shirt then, and instead of resuming his previous position, Steve tilted his head down, attaching his lips to one of your nipples. You couldnât help the pleasure that coursed through your veins, grinding harder against Steveâs lap. He was hard beneath his sweatpants, and his length caught against your clit with each movement, only further riling you up. Soft moans fell from both of your lips in harmony until Steveâs mouth departed from your chest, shifting to lay you down with his body hovering over you. His lips were swollen and red, wet with his saliva as he gazed down at you. He looked at you with a hunger that heâd suppressed for far too long as his hands trailed down your stomach, slowly pulling down the sweatpants that rested on your hips. You lifted your bum, making it easier for Steve to take them off. Once your pants were discarded on the floor, Steveâs face shifted down, hovering over your clothed cunt.Â
âYou donât have to,â you spoke quietly, suddenly seeming shy and so drastically different from the girl who just rolled her tongue into Steveâs mouth.
âTrust me, Baby, I want to. I want to so fucking bad, have for a long time,â Steveâs eyes found yours, but he didnât move from his spot between your thighs. His breath fanned over your skin, only adding more heat between your legs. He placed small kisses on your inner thighs and your back arched at the sensation. Steve truly had waited a long time to do this, thought about it late at night while his hand fisted his cock, so he was going to savor every second. His fingers dragged over your panties, drawing little stars over the material. You threw your head back, unable to contain yourself as a result of Steveâs teasing.
âPlease Stevie, need you so bad,â you begged, breath coming out ragged and labored. Steve smirked up at you, finally hooking his fingers into the cotton material and yanking them off. He lowered himself further, breath now fanning over your exposed heat. Steve wasted no time, licking into your cunt, flexing his tongue with each flick back and forth through your wet folds. You gasped as he held down your thighs, holding them tightly around his head. His tongue was persistent, like a starved man eating for the first time in days. Steveâs hips rutted against the mattress, so turned on by the noises you made, the way you tasted, how you felt against his tongue. It got to a point where you could hardly keep still, squirming wildly beneath Steveâs steel grip, and he knew you were close.
His mouth came up to your clit, sucking it with enough force to make you whine out his name. He could come at just the sounds you made, but he held back, keeping his focus on your core and the shake that slowly began in your thighs. The coil that had been building in the pit of your stomach snapped, a wave of pleasure flooding through you. Steve lapped at your folds, capturing the last of your arousal on his tongue as you came down from your high, chest heaving and thighs quaking.
âFuck, that was the hottest thing Iâve ever seen,â Steve ran a hand through his hair, shifting up to place a kiss to your lips. You tasted yourself on him, a whimper escaping you in response. Without breaking the kiss, your hands came down, fumbling to rid Steve of his sweatpants, but he stopped you.Â
âI wanna return the favor, Stevie. Wanna make you feel good too,â you spoke between kisses and Steve pulled away, hastily shaking his head.Â
âYou do that now and itâll be all over. Iâd rather come inside you, Baby,â Steve's eyes asked you for permission, wanting more than anything to be buried inside you. You understood what he meant and nodded eagerly, the idea reigniting the heat between your thighs. Steve got up quickly, pulling his pants from his legs. You repositioned yourself, now on your hands and knees, facing away from Steve. He kneeled on the bed behind you, one hand smoothing over the curve of your ass, gently finding its resting place on your waist. His lips placed a quick kiss to your spine as he took his length in his hand. He pumped himself a few times before lining up with your entrance, slowly pushing in with a wrecked moan. Your walls stretched around him, squeezing his length as he bottomed out. You couldnât help the faint pants that fell from your lips at the feel of being so full.Â
âFuck, Steve, so big,â you whined, arms weakly holding you in place. He chuckled behind you, trying to keep from blowing his load right then and there. You were so tight, your walls surrounding him perfectly. He slowly started to move, pulling his hips out gently and pushing himself back in. Steve was practically growling at the sensation of your walls clasped so close around him. As you both adjusted, Steve sped up, his hips bouncing quickly off the curve of your ass. It was hot and wet, hard and deep, the sound of skin slapping together filled the room.Â
âTaking me so good, Baby. Wanna hear those pretty sounds. Making âem just for me, right?â Steveâs breath was labored, trying hard to hold on as his fingers dug into your hips. You complied with Steveâs request, letting your stifled whimpers echo throughout the room. Steve pulled you up then, your back pressed to his front as your ass bounced off his thighs. He thrusted up into you and his hands came up to fondle your breasts. âTell me youâre close, Baby. I canât hold on much longer,â he muttered in your ear, ending his statement with another shaky groan. You nodded, the back of your head moving against his shoulder as you did. He quickened his pace then, using every last ounce of reserve that he had to pound into you, bodies pressing together. Your face scrunched in pleasure and Steveâs followed, both of you toeing the edge of blinding pleasure.Â
âFuck, Stevie. Love you so much,â you moaned through ragged breaths, hand coming behind his head in an attempt to pull his lips to yours. The words you spoke and the crash of your lips against his had Steve coming undone. His hot streams of cum coated the inside of your walls, triggering your own high, cries of Steveâs name muffled by the taste of his swollen lips. You sunk back down onto his lap as he finally ceased his movements, resting on the back of his heels, still buried deep within you. His eyes met your soft gaze and he couldnât help the uptick of his lips. You loved him and thatâs all that mattered to him now.
The two of you cleaned yourselves up, slowly redressing to various degrees. Steve pulled on the boxers that were lost in his sweatpants while you draped your oversized shirt back over your frame. You gave up on trying to find your panties, accepting that they were now lost in the mess of Steveâs cluttered bedroom floor. You fell back into bed with Steve, rolling on your side to face him, the bed sheets draped over you. Steveâs legs brushed against yours, slowly intertwining until one of your legs rested between both of his. You caught sight of a cherry stem resting on his nightstand, one that had been tied in a knot, and held back your teasing remarks about him keeping it. Steve studied you, wanting to memorize this moment, each feature of your face. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up to the sight of your soft, pleasant smile as you watched over him in the same way he did to you. Eventually, Steveâs lids grew heavy, fluttering closed as he drifted off to sleep, you not far behind.
When you woke in the morning, you were still tangled together, radiating heat off one another to fill the otherwise cold morning air. You nestled your head into Steveâs bare chest, a soft groan slipping from him as he awoke. Neither of you wanted to get up, face the morning, and separate after a night together. The only reason you eventually did get up was because Steve had to go to work and you were sure your parents would notice your absence soon.
You went downstairs before him, waiting for him to find his car keys in the mess of his room. You shared a kiss on his doorstep, fingers tangling in Steveâs hair as he pulled your hips flush with his. A whine escaped you as he pulled away, leaning down to pluck a daisy from his momâs well-manicured front garden. Steve tucked the daisy behind your ear, placing one last kiss to your lips before walking over to his car. He opened his car door, stopping for another glimpse of you before he left. You smiled at him, waving him off and watching as he backed out of the driveway. He blew you a kiss before putting the car in drive and pulling away. You held the kiss close to your heart, the heart that now belonged to him, and headed back across his lawn to your own house.
The smell of coffee wafted through the air as you shut the front door behind you. Your parents sat at the kitchen table, a newspaper between them and a cup of coffee each. You drifted into the kitchen, ignoring their questioning looks, and plugged the phone back into the wall. Your parents shared a silent look, a look of relief that the storm was over, that normalcy would soon resume.Â
You went upstairs then, entering your bedroom and pulling back the curtains that encompassed your window. You planned to leave a note for Steve stuck to the glass, the same way you used to when you were kids, one for him to find when he got back home from work. But when your eyes drifted to the window across from yours, you were met with confusion.
In place of the army of green men that once sat on the window sill was a pencil with a half sheet of white paper attached to it. A white flag. Steve surrendered, and the war was over. You smiled at the gesture before crafting your own flag to mirror the one across from you. It would be a truce then, breaking even and giving up the fight. The ache in your chest was quelled and replaced by an unfathomable warmth. There were no winners or losers anymore. There was just you and Steve, two lovers that took way too long to figure it out.Â
You would call Eddie and Robin later to explain the previous nightâs events, but for now, you sat back on your bed, Pride and Prejudice clasped in your hands. You opened the cover, eyes landing on the bookmark between its pages, mind drifting off to the boy that picked you flowers and told you he loved you so long ago. Maybe you knew him all along. Maybe he wasnât so different after all.
You put me on and said I was your favorite
The summer sun beat down on Steveâs tanned skin, sweat dripping from his brow, making a trail down his neck to the collar of his t-shirt. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, wishing to escape Hawkinsâ summer heat. With a deep breath, Steve leaned down to grab the box at his feet, hoisting it up to hand to you. You stood in the back of a U-Haul, organizing the boxes that were handed to you. Your very sweaty boyfriend flashed you a smile before turning to go back into his house and grab more boxes.
âYou guys couldnât have picked a hotter day to move,â Eddie appeared in front of you, unruly curls stuck to his forehead and neck. Youâd offered him a hair tie earlier, but he declined, now stuck suffering in the humid air. His arms were strained with the weight of the box he was carrying, clearly struggling more than Steve had been.
âSorry, Eds. We canât control the weather,â you took the box that he had brought out, placing it somewhere behind you in the truck. You brushed away the sweat that had formed above your lip and watched as Eddie shook his head.
âI canât believe you guys are actually leaving,â a sad smile stretched his lips as he spoke. He knew that it would happen eventually, that you would leave behind this horror story of a town and start anew. Youâd suffered more Upside Down related trauma than he had, and he knew the fears that still crept into your mind from time to time. It was a good change, even if it meant leaving the people you loved behind.
âMe too, honestly,â you looked up then, head snapping towards the sound of voices arguing in the distance. Steve and Dustin were on Steveâs front porch loudly talking back and forth about how to move Steveâs dresser from his room. Robin stood next to them, rolling her eyes and dragging Max towards your house to grab the last of your book collection. âIâm glad it's with him though,â you nodded your head towards Steve, who was still deep in his discussion with Dustin, wild hand gestures and all. Steve caught you gazing at him from the corner of his eye, shooting you a look that said âthis kid is crazyâ before disappearing into the house, Dustin hot on his trail.Â
âYeah, yeah, you guys are in love or whatever. We get it,â Mike appeared at Eddieâs side, his slim arms struggling to carry his box. You raised a brow at him, lifting the box from his arms with ease and he faced you with an unamused glare.Â
âI think it's sweet,â Will approached behind him, also unloading a box into your arms. He smiled at you sweetly, and suddenly it hit you how much you were going to miss all of them. The bickering and the fights, the tight hugs and reassurances that they would call to let you know they got home safe. The late nights spent overanalyzing every detail of some cheesy movie that youâd forget the plot of by the morning. And in the background of it all was Steve. His forlorn gaze as Nancy walked you down her driveway to your car. His open curtains waiting for your lights to flicker on when you got back from work. His grand gestures as he put himself in harm's way, trying to protect you. You pretended to hate each other, but now you know that you never really did.Â
The afternoon dragged on, the heat weighing heavy on everyone as boxes and furniture were piled into the truck. Eventually, you all finished and everything you owned was packed away. Steve grabbed a quick shower, rinsing the sweat from his body to make the long car ride more comfortable. You hugged your parents goodbye, urging them to come visit once everything was unpacked. The others still lingered, waiting to watch as you and Steve drove away. Tears filled their eyes and streamed down sweaty cheeks as you hugged each of the younger kids, promising to return for Thanksgiving.Â
Steve began his round of goodbyes, mainly opting for a secret handshake or a ruffling of hair. Robin squeezed you so tightly that you thought she might crack one of your ribs. She sniffled as she pulled away, moving on to give Steve the same crushing embrace. Eddie stood before you, his head tilted towards the ground. You brushed his hair back from his face, catching sight of his tear-stained cheeks. He pulled you close, arms encompassing your frame.Â
âYouâll call every week?â he spoke into your hair, burying his face in it to hide his swell of tears. You nodded against him, your own muffled cries slipping from your lips. He pulled back then, and Steve was right behind you.
Steve placed his hand on your back, guiding you to the front seat of the U-Haul. He said his goodbye to Eddie before joining you. Steveâs car was hooked up to the back of the truck and your parents planned to bring yours up with them when they came to visit.
You stood on the ledge of the truck admiring the sea of your friends that stood before you. They watched you with tearful eyes as you shot them one last watery smile and slid into your seat. Your gaze was pulled towards the side of your house, your bedroom window that sat across from Steveâs. It was funny to think how close he always was, even when he felt miles away. Steveâs hand brushed yours then, the tingle of skin pulling you from your thoughts.
âReady to go, Baby?â Steve asked, reaching down to put the truck in gear. His hair was still wet, smelling of his lavender-scented shampoo. You ran your hands through it, brushing the loose strands to the side. Steve caught your hand, placing a small kiss on your palm before you could pull away.Â
Sixth grade Steve was right, you were leaving with your things packed into boxes and a new city calling your name. But not because you were the worm girl that was running away. It wasnât because this town had terrorized and taunted you to the point of no return. You were leaving because you wanted to, not because you felt forced out. And sixth grade Steve was wrong about you finding the love of your life once you left too, because youâd already found him, and for that Steve couldnât be happier.
âWith you?â you questioned, eyebrows raised, hand still encompassed by Steveâs. He nodded, showing you that smile that he reserved just for you. The same one he gave you as you sat on the sidewalk with dried worms newly relocated to the surrounding grass. You mirrored his look, gazing into his hazel eyes with all the love and adoration you had acquired for him over the years. âAlways.â
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For bayverse turtles head cannons could you do their kinks, like top 3 or top 5 kinks please if youâre comfortable with that? Also love you and your work! đĽ°đĽ°đĽ°
Long time no see haha I appreciate your patience with me for all this time but here are some of my ideas for them...
I kept most of these gender neutral but there are a few that are gendered a bit more for a female s/o
Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY
Leo:
Voyeurism- consensually of course - Leo loves watching you touch yourself, plain and simple. Especially when the two of you first started being intimate. It showed him all the ways you like to be touched, showed him what feels the best to you. The further the two of you go into your relationship, it turns more into him simply loving the way pleasure looks on you. It doesnât matter if you use your hands or a toy, he loves watching you get yourself ready for him. Â
Tantric Sex - He loves intimacy, and he sees sex as a way of really feeling close to you. And yeah sometimes he needs the relief that a good fuck can give, there are nights when he just wants to feel you. To have you wrapped around him, arms looped around his neck to pull him closer telling him of your adoration for him and him telling you the same. The journey for him can be as satisfying as the destination.Â
Edging - This can go both ways for him, he loves both bringing you to brink before denying you, only to continue building you up before he finally makes you cum. But he also loves to do the same to himself, mostly by pleasing you. Whether itâs with his hand or mouth, youâll notice him slowly stroke himself, never fully giving into his own pleasure until he absolutely canât take it anymore. He loves to make that high even more intense when he finally chases it.
Bondage - This guy loves control. He also loves this because it shows how much trust you put in him. He sees it as its own unique form of intimacy, to allow him to tie your wrists above your head and to know that he wouldnât do anything but please you. Afterwards, he always feels closer to you knowing how deep the trust runs between the two of you.
Heels - Iâve always thought he is a fan of legs. Doesnât matter how thick or thin, short or long, he loves legs. Which is part of the reason he loves to see you in heels so much. They just bring out your legs in a way that drives this poor guy insane. He also secretly loves the sound of heels against the floor
Raph:
Biting/Giving Hickies - He is obsessed with seeing anything on you that marks you as his. He may not be able to be beside you at all times to keep others away, but a nice hickey on the side of your neck would work just fine. He's possessive
Spanking - Because he is an ass man, expect him to be touching the butt, a lot. He loves watching it jiggle after he smacks it and to feel how soft you are under his hands. He may also spank the kitty, if you're down with that of courseâŚ
Degradation - This will only happen to the extent that you allow it. Though he would never make fun of your body or anything like that. He loves to call you 'his whore' while he's fucking you so good the only thing you can do is agree (there are also times when he would ask for you to say it yourself).
Thigh-fucking - I'm not gonna lie, this man has an obsession with thick thighs. I'm talking cellulite and stretch marks. He loves all of it. This would be used mostly when the two of you start having sex, because let's be real this guy is PACKING so it'll be best to take things slow. He'll lift your legs up to his shoulders, and you'll cross your ankles together and just watch him get off, bonus points if you tell him how sexy he looks while he does it.
Facials - This one can go along with his obsession with giving you hickies, though this one obvisouly is much more private. He just loves the visual of it all, ya know? Staking his claim, basically. He's a possessive guy, and he tries to tone it down outside the bedroom, but he allows it to come through HEAVILY behind closed doors, and this is one of his favorite ways, by having you on your knees in front of him, his cum traced across your mouth ........
Donnie:
Sex Toys - This can span all the way from vibrators to restraints even, when he has the time to go all out with you he will absoluately take advantage of that if you're down. One of his favorites is to use a vibrator on your clit while he fucks you slow, so slow that it drives you isane, but believe that he'll have you taken care of multiple times before the night is over
Overstimulation - So this can go hand in hand with the passage above, he wants to see how much you can take, and all four of them were blessed with a high sex drive, he can go as many times as you need him to honestly. He loves the nights that leave you in a trembling mess underneath him, your nails digging into his skin with tightly you're holding onto him. It also secretly brings a swelling pride to his chest to know that he's capable of bringing you there
Phone Sex/Nudes - Let's be real this guy gets busy; there are times where he can't see you in person but trust that he won't let that complicate things too much; he loves to hear you say the filthy things you want him to do next time he's with you as he strokes himself, legs spread wide. If you were also comfortable with sending him pictures he would be ALL over that; even has a seperate folder for them that is heavily locked down
Thigh riding - Imagine sitting on his lap in his desk chair, kissing him as his hands roam up and down your body before they land on your hips, guiding them back and forth but not allowing you to go any faster than he wants you to, all the while he's whispering all the things he wants to do to you while you whimper into his ear, pressure building up higher and higher; yeah, he's a fan of this one
Choking - He'll usually only do this when his focus is completely on you, one hand between your legs while the other is squeezing the sides of your throat. Breath play can intensify an orgasm, and he loves watching it race through you even stronger. There are even times when he's alone that he'll do this for himself but you don't find that out unitl later
Mikey:
Praise - This can go either way for him, honestly. He loves to praise you but loves even more to be praised himself. He needs to know how good he's making you feel, and for you to vocalize that to him would only make him want to go even harder. Complimenting his body especially would drive him insane.
Begging - OOOO boy, this one kills him. He loves hearing you ask for what you want, it helps him feel much more confident in whatever it is the two of you do knowing just how badly you need it; also to hear the person he loves beg him to touch them, kiss them, fuck them, it drives him absolutely inSANE
Massages - His love language is touch, so being able to run his hands over your skin is quite possibly his favorite thing to do anyways, but having you laid out before him, whining the longe rhe goes on, though the both of you know he won't be able to deny you for long...
Face-Sitting - This one I feel a bit self explanatory, this guy is a munch, any possible way you let him eat you out he's going to go for it
Semi-public - A secret part of him loves watching you try to stay quiet even when your on the brink of your orgasm. He also enjoys the risk that's involved with possibly getting caught in the act especially when your legs are on his shoulders and all you can do is whisper broken up words begging him to go harder ahdkashdkjaskdfskj
#tmnt 2016#tmnt 2014#bayversetmnt#tmnt x reader#tmnt leo x reader#tmnt raph x reader#tmnt mikey x reader#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt headcanon#tmnt smut
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Hitchhiker SFW & NSFW Headcannonâs:
a/n: getting my wisdom teeth out in like ten minutes so imma be offline and recovering for a few days. enjoy these head cannons until i get back <3
Tim | SFW:
-lives off of coffee & cigarettes. half the time canât digest regular food & ends up throwing it up from stress :( poor bby
-despite being a proxy for years, still has reoccurring nightmares that keep him up at night. certain things trigger ptsd episodes, specifically memories of jay or brian (who brian used to be before the operator came along)
-rough exterior, doesnât believe heâs even worthy of being in your presence or anyone elseâs. firmly believes that anyone he interacts with The Operator could and would kill just to fuck with him
-major anger issues that he mainly keeps under wraps, maskyâs the one who REALLY shows that side of him
-memory is spotty, but he puts more of an effort to remember things since meeting you
-drinks straight black coffee, absolutely despises cream & sugar. its a miracle this man has any water intake at all
-overly protective, to an intense degree
-enjoys bands like the smiths, the neighbourhood (idc bite me), and cigarettes after sex
Tim | NSFW under the cut:
-tim wants to absolutely worship you. a shameless munch who wants to do nothing more than make you cum on his face
-prefers missionary, wants to bury his face into your neck as he pounds into you
-This man loves nothing more than to hear your pretty noises
âFuck, keep moaning my name princessâ
-doesnât care too much about receiving head, would rather please you
-ADORES watching your facial expressions as you cum on his fingers. the little o shape your mouth makes drives him feral
âYeah? Gonna cum on my fingers?â
-best after care on the PLANET. baths, snacks, cuddles. whatever you want heâs got it ready for you.
Brian || SFW:
-vegetarian (loves tomato soup because it reminds him of what his mom used to make him when he was sick)
-distrusting; even though he tries to attempt from speaking his mind is absolute madness
-lots of ptsd, genuinely fears what happened to him will happen to you
-depressive tendencies. allows hoodie to front when he starts getting too upset
-he doesnât allow himself to have too many interest or too much of a personality. he lives in constant fear anything he may grow to like or show interest in will be destroyed by the operator
-you instill an unknowingly amount of happiness into his life. an amount so much that he fears he may be beginning to claw his way out of the trenches of despair
-enjoys bands like linkin park, papa roach, and green day
Brian || NSFW
-a TEASE
-this mf wants you to beg for his touch just to turn around & give you what you want & more
-adores the feeling of your nails digging into his back. he gets so turned on by it, itâs borderline nauseating for him
-praise to the absolute MAX
-âyou can take it pretty girl, such a good girl for meâ
-possessive & determined to make you feel better then anyone else, especially in group activities
-âgo on, tell tim how good i make you feelâ
-loves to overstimulate you to the point of no return. if you arenât a squirming mess on the brink of passing out from pleasure, he feels like he didnât do his job right
-wants to manhandle you. something about picking you up as if you weighed nothing to readjust you into the position he wants you in is so addicting to him
-good aftercare, thinks more about cleaning you up than anything else
Masky || SFW
-heâs so tired of being the âleaderâ
-like seriously, heâs sick of it
-firm believer since Hoodie came around first he should be forced to lead the band of misfit toys but he digresses
-thinks tim is a big softie and borderline pathetic, but after he saves you, he thinks more highly of his decision making skills
-when fronting he is absolutely not sleeping. real life is terrifying enough. the last thing he needs is the creativity of nightmares haunting him too
-carries wads of cash in case heâs in a bind. will just throw them at people before storming out of where ever he is
-did i mention anger issues? like to an unhealthy concerning degree? masky believes in punching or shooting his way out of any situation that pisses him off
-delusional but in the best way, imagines you and him to eventually become a bonnie and clyde like duo
-enjoys more edgy bands like three days grace, skillet, and hollywood undead
Masky || NSFW
-there is not a submissive bone in this manâs body
-spitting, spanking, slapping, and choking you really gets him going
-humiliating you and degrading you turns him on so much itâs unbelievable
-âFuckin slut. Get yourself off on my tongue. Get on with it before I change my mindâ
-Either overstimulation or orgasm denial. No in between
-Gun play. I said what I said. You giving him head while he points a loaded gun at your head drives him feral
-âSuck it harder or iâll pull the trigger. Dont think I wonât. Youâre not specialâ
-if youâre into it as much as he is, heâd like to fuck you with his gunđŤŁ
-Lowkey is kinda cruel, enjoy the idea of putting his cigarettes out on you but wonât since he shares you (he doesnât want to argue with toby/hoodie/brian/tim)
-leaving you covered with bruises in particular is satisfying to him. the shapes of his fingers digging into your waist being there the next day make him hard all over again
-decent aftercare. if weâre being honest youâll be too dazed to remember most of it. he wonât necessarily cuddle you but heâll at least clean you with a washcloth before putting you to bed
Hoodie || SFW
-silent but aggressive
-doesnât enjoy fronting unless itâs to complete a mission or task for the operator
-enjoys stalking his victims just to see what theyâre doing before theyâre killedđ
-that ski mask? yeah prefers that mf to stay ON. things that involve you are the only exception heâll make once he grows fond of you
-him & brian are in an agreement having any real interest is too much risk. of course, they combat this narrative once you come along
-will tell you he doesnât like music but secretly enjoys shinedown, breaking benjamin, and seether
Hoodie || NSFW
-sadist
-orgasm denial. the sight of you squirming beneath him while begging to cum? euphoric.
-cnc (sorry mom)
-âshut up and take it. pathetic whoreâ
-breath play. likes choking but heâd prefer to have you on all fours with a belt around your throat if heâs being honest
-loves recording you. not only to watch back later, but to threaten you with the blackmail
-âyou better behave or iâll show everyone how much of a slut you actually areâ
-hair pulling. whether you pull his hair or he pulls yours. the whimpers that come from it are like heroin
-bondage. if hoodie could have it his way heâd have you tied up and spread out like a starfish on a bed so he could play with you until you break
-probably the worst aftercare out of everyone on this list. doesnât care for it, thinks itâs your problem. at most will just tell you to pee
Toby || SFW
-toby is pretty much your loyal guard dog. heâs at your disposal and you donât even realize it
-he never really got an opportunity to be a teenager. now that heâs roughly 21-23, you make him feel like the flustered horny teenager he never got to be
-before you heâs extremely unhinged. toby didnât have a lot of motivation besides the thrill of a kill. now that youâre around and practically a ball of sunshine, you make him feel something other than blood lust or boredom
-has nice curls but never knows how to take care of them so they always turn out straight since he immediately brushes his hair after a shower
-out of the three proxies heâs the most content with the situation. he views tim and brian as his best friends, even if they donât feel the same way
-donât let any of the fluff headcannons deceive you though, thereâs a reason heâs a proxy. the unknown strength this man has is concerning. chopping up bodies doesnât tire him
-enjoys russian roulette. masky and hoodie will play with him on special occasions
-likes to play with fire. if he has an opportunity he will commit massive amounts of arson
-his music taste bounces around everywhere, similar to his personality. top three is violent vira, grimes, and bones
Toby || NSFW
-hardcore switch leaning towards sub
-toby has his dominate moments, most of them just enjoying seeing you blush from his teasing
-âyou like m-me fucking y-you huh? such a p-perfect pussyâ
-likes to see you take control.
-iâm sorry but despite being a sub heâs very vanilla, minus a few very specific kinks
-hickies. wants tim and brian to see youâre just as much as his as you are theirs
-cream pies. not even necessarily contributing to a breeding kink, he just likes to watch his cum drip down your abused cunt
-pulling his hair drives him feral. he canât necessarily feel pain but he feels your eagerness and thatâs enough for him
-considering toby canât feel things his sex drive is extremely high considering itâs one of the few things he canât actually feel
-one of his fantasies is fucking you with the handle of his axe
-aftercare is peak. heâs just as exhausted as you, but will wait on you hand and foot to ensure youâre taken care of
Nova || SFW
-her dad was a detective, she simply followed in his footsteps
-her parents were very academic driven. praise and affection was only shown to her when she excelled academically
-bi sexual. leans more towards women
-protective, blunt, and head strong
-working in a field thatâs pro dominantly men, she ensures to be full of bark AND bite to make sure sheâs taken seriously
-became a detective to help people. despite her tough exterior, she genuinely just wants to bring people peace through her work
-obsessive tendencies. once she starts a case she has to finish it. will not rest properly until itâs done
-has a fantastic memory. memorizes all the little details of anyone and everything
-out of the three proxies she likes tim the most, but will never admit she likes any of them
-enjoys hozier, asap rocky, and adeline troutman
Nova || NSFW
-THE BIGGEST SWITCH TO EVER EXIST
-either wants to be called mommy or a good cum dump
-an absolute freak in the bed
-this woman has a chest of sex toys at home of all varieties and sorts
-pegs men
-âyour whimpers are so cute baby boyâ
-either wants to put YOU in handcuffs or have you put handcuffs on HER. either way she wants them involved
-doesnât believe in vanilla sex. if sheâs fucking sheâs going all in. no lovey dovey shit. just pure feral behavior
-on the other end of the spectrum, loves being fucked into the mattress until sheâs dizzy
-âplease keep going, fuck, iâm so closeâ
-has attended several bdsm sex parties on the down low
-aftercare is peak. she doesnât gaf ab herself. youâre the star of the show
#hitchhiker#creepypasta#creepypasta smut#creepypasta lemon#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x female reader#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x you#marble hornets x you#marble hornets x reader#hoody marble hornets#hoodie marble hornets#masky marble hornets#marble hornets#hoodie smut#masky and hoodie smut#masky x hoodie#masky and hoody#masky smut#ticcy toby x you#ticci toby x you#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby smut#ticci toby#tim wright smut#tim masky#brian thomas smut#brian thomas x reader#masky x reader#creepypasta masky
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dealer!ellie x reader
(head cannons)
based on the song daddy issues by the neighborhood
A/n: Im writing this on my notes app, have never written before but i fear if i donât write this it will never be writtenđ
currently going though a situation ship and im very touched starved so that is wear this is coming fromâźď¸
Idc if minors read
please give me feedback even if its not the nicest it is really appreciated!!
TW: erm lesbians, reader having daddy issues, casual by chappell roan mentioned, crying, panic attacks, anxiety, reader sits on ellies lap, weed, lmk if i missed anything!! no use of y/nâźď¸
Dealer Ellie who met you at a party having panic attack
Dealer Ellie who brought you back to a random couch at the frat party and gave you free weed to calm you down while having a meaningful conversations
Dealer ellie who drove you home and got your phone number
Now anytime you have a panic attack or anything close to one, you call ellie and she comes over with free weed/ holds your hand and comforts you the whole time
âhey pretty girlâ âthere you go prettyâ
when you smoke to much shes there to ground you
âits okay baby i got you, your safe with meâ
Soon after you both catch feelings, not telling each other because you donât want to ruin whats going on.
You call ellie one afternoon asking if she can come over, shes really busy but you dont need to know that and comes over.
you both end up confessing your feelings and make out on the couch, soon you both fall asleep in each others arms
by the end of that night you and ellie are bound by the hip (i think thats how the saying goes?? idk) ellie always with you in someway or some form.
Ellie soon finds out about your attachment issues and fear shes gonna leave you in some way, (hints daddy issuesđ
) but that fear is soon subsided by ellie and her always with and doting on you
at the beginning of you and ellies relationship, you tried not to get too comfortable but as soon as you do, you are clinging to ellie all the time.
(deals, in classes, restaurants, idk but always touching ellie and ellie always with or touching you in some way)
Getting with ellie didnt stop all your panic attacks or anxiety, when bad panic attacks would happen you would sit on ellies lap with a tv show playing in the background, ellie lighting a blunt, lightly placing it between your lips watching you inhale and exhale
Dealer ellie making that collage dealer bank, would take you shopping all the time.
no matter what your style, hyperfem, on the masculine side, or neither she would spoil the hell out of you.
You and ellie dont have sex untill about a month into the relationship, deciding to take it slow
You and ellie rarely ever got in fights, (you being sensitive also hints daddy issuesđ
) would cry when ellie raised her voice at you, not trying to be manipulative in the way that anytime you two get in disagreements you cry, but when she would yell, yes.
âellie that girl was flirting with you i saw itâ
âbabe no she wasntâ
âellie please just stop dealing to herâ
âbabe its my fucking job to deal what do you expect for a dealer in a collage campus not to get hit on?!â
when she heard sniffles her heart immediately dropped realizing that she yelled.
safe to say that girl never got another ounce of weed from ellie again.
i feel like all of ellies past relationships were just âcasualâ but with you it was very different!
Red wine supernova by chappell roan is definitely her favorite song on rise and fall of a midwest princess (but she relates to casual đ
the most)
The first time she took you to meet joel you cried bc your dad cut you off once he found out you were gay , and especially not a dad like joel
one time when you amd ellie once woke up early enough to make breakfast before classes, you started a playlist on you phone
Naked in manhattan by chappell roan started playing, you started dancing and ellie soon followed hugging you from behind kissing your neck
Suggestive
at partyâs when ellies dealing, you would always be perched on her lap, facing ellie, counting her freckles
Ellie being ellie is horny when shes high, you being you are emotional when high but that doesnt stop yall from having heated moments when both of yall are high.
i feel like ellie would have Lunch by billie eilish playing when shes high and that always leads to a long (fun) night
thanks for reading dykesâźď¸
#ellie x reader#dealer!ellie#ellie williams#ellie willams x reader#ellie tlou#ellie x you#Spotify#mean!ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader fluff
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All I do is go around making sure everyone knows Zayne's so the type to steal your panties đŠ (though caveat if he had a great suspicion you wouldn't mind and would just tease him)
-đş
LISTEN!!! I have already found the message!! I have literally been thinking about this for so long đ
Send me your NSFW head cannons/thoughts/confessions about the LADS boys and I'll write a little something for you đ
Warnings: Light smut, lingerie, fingering
Date night with Zayne is always a treat for you. With two busy schedules and unexpected emergencies always popping up, its always nice when you both can get a night to yourselves. Tonight you're wearing a beautiful new set lingerie, covered in lace and satin fabric. You sure where excited when Zayne got to unwrap you at the end of the night and get his surprise. Laying on his bed he carefully peels off your set, unknown to you it would be the last time you see it. He slips a finger in, distracting you as he slides your underwear in his pocket. Without warning he slips another finger in as you arch into his touch. He tucked your underwear firmly on his pocket and gives you his full attention. One hand firmly griping your hip so you canât move, another scissoring you open so youâre fully prepared for him with as little pain as possible.
The next morning you wake up to an empty side of the bed and a note on the nightstand.
Emergency surgery this morning, sorry I couldnât stay. Your clothes are folded in the bathroom
-Zayne
In the bathroom you find your clothes, your toothbrush and a warm bath already drawn. Looking through the stack of clothes you notice your underwear is no where to be found. You chuckle and make your way over to the bath. Next time he can just ask, youâre more than happy to share.
#đş anon#asks#halloween ask party#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace zayne#zayne x mc#zayne x reader#zayne#lads mc#lads smut#lads x reader#lads zayne#love and deepspace smut#l&ds#l&ds smut#l&ds zayne#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace#lnds zayne#zayne x you#dr zayne
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