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constantcrying · 1 month ago

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Ersatz, baby

m!shape-shifter!yandere x gn!reader. 4k words. yes. I'm so sorry.

TW: Obsession, possessive thoughts and behaviors, mentions of violence, gore, consumption of humans, idk how to tag it but the shape-shifter eats humans and has considered eating the reader so like heads up about that

Heeeeey

Somebody PLEASE tell me if the length of this piece is detrimental to the experience of reading it it’s like 4k words. Here’s something I’ve been kicking around for ages. Frankly I am shocked I have something at all after a year

“Odd couple” is the best way to describe the friendship between you and Sasha. You’re awkward and responsible and outwardly boring. He’s highly social, wild, and intriguing. You’re genuine to a fault. He’s an expert in facades; he is a facade. You’re human and he’s something utterly not.

The freak accident of affection between you two is...still hard for him to wrap his head around. It seems to be your fault. If you weren’t so pitifully earnest toward him he would have just gotten rid of you. You were aware of his true nature, and definitely scared of it, but you kept going out of your way to be the Good Roommate™, to play friends. He had to let you live, just to see what the fuck your deal is. Now it’s too late. Now he wants you around.

You are the only person in the world that he has shown his real body to.

Some of his victims have seen it, but you’re the first person he intended to see it. The decision was quiet, perhaps a little impulsive. A simple exchange of “What are you, Sasha?” and “I don’t know. Wanna see?” had you both going to your bedroom and locking the door.

For the first time in his life, his heart pounded as he shed his clothes. He almost didn’t want you to turn around and look. It might be better if you only knew the carefully curated version of him, the handsome appearance he painstakingly crafted for the easiest social life. Even though you already knew he wasn’t human and pretended it didn’t matter, what if you saw him now and knew with absolute certainty that you didn’t want to look at him ever again? He would have to swallow you whole. He wasn’t sure if he could do it.

Regardless he said, “turn around.”

He showed you the unvarnished form that he had inherited from his mother. To be frank: It’s a predator’s body. Worse that that, it’s a monster’s. There are features and junctures of him so uncanny it must hurt the logical mind to observe them. If you were ever looking for the perfect rebuttal to the existence of a loving God, look no further than his cruel mouth.

He crept onto you bed looking like this, towering over you, your bed-frame screaming to protest the weight. He’d have to cut you off at the source, if you were to scream. And though he could smell the fear wafting from your skin, could practically feel the constricting blood vessels and tightening muscles in you, you still asked him, “Hey, is it more comfortable? Do you prefer being like this?”

Honestly? He isn’t sure there’s a body that’s comfortable and natural to him anymore. He’s so used to a human state that anything else feels awkward, even when it’s easier to shift to. As you took his massive claws into your hands and examined them with gentle curiosity, though, he was struck by the warmth of you. It was a long time since anyone had really touched him. It might’ve been even longer for you, loner that you are. Which meant you were the only person who could understand the way he felt in that moment.

He flopped over next to you, letting out an embarrassing dog-like whine, but you just laughed sweetly, and shifted pillows around to accommodate his bigger size. His feet and tail still dangled awkwardly off the bed. “You can relax in here,” you said. “You’re always welcome, since you’re my friend.”

You rambled about your classes and professors until all the adrenaline had left your system. He didn’t say much in response, but you didn’t mind. After a while, you could almost meet his preternatural gaze. You even dozed off like this, with a monster beside you, you utter weirdo. He put his head closer to your chest and felt your sleeping breaths for hours, thinking that your throat would be butter-soft under his teeth.

Sasha knows very little about what he really wants. He’s not sure if he’ll stay in his major, or in school, or even in human society. He knows for certain, though, that he wants more time to study you. He wants just your quiet voice and humble body heat and the understanding that, whatever he is, it isn’t going to chase you away.

So you two keep doing this. Every few days he’ll skulk over to where you are and make room for himself, and the two of you will talk for hours. Sometimes he shifts. He doesn’t always want to, but you get more comfortable with him that way. You...seem more keen to pet him when he looks and acts like an animal, and he wants you to touch him so bad he’s worried he’ll start asking for it. Could he ever live it down, if he started asking to be coddled? No. So he wags his tail and butts his head against you like that isn’t it’s own special brand of pathetic.

It’s not like you’re one to judge, though. You’re just so happy to have a friend that comes to hang out with you. You’ve never had very many of those, but of course Sasha knows he’s extra special. There’s much he’s learned about the world from his strange perspective, and you’re always excited to listen to his stories.

You do understand that he needs to eat a lot. You see him clear out four bacon cheeseburgers as a snack once, and he cracks jokes about how breakfast was red bull and adderall, but you know that it’s just a part of his biology that works against him. So you go out of your way to cook more meat, and give him bigger portions than anyone else, ignoring the way your blatant favoritism must look to the other roommates and occasional visitors. He doesn’t bother explaining that your idea of a big meal is like his idea of an appetizer, and he never will.

He doesn’t talk about the people he eats, either. He’s starting to think you don’t realize he does that.

(If you really don’t know, if this is the way you treat him when you don’t know, there’s no fucking way he can tell you.)

As for you, you talk about your courses and your classmates. From the way you talk around it, he’s mostly figured out the sad shape of your childhood and he decides that’s why you’re so weird and naive.

Mostly, you tell him about your hobbies, and your taste in TV shows. That’s when something in you is unlocked, revealing you to be more witty and giggly than your initial impression. It’s gratifying to know most other people don’t discover that side of you, like being the only prospector who knows where gold is. You tell him about everything you used to watch and play with your best friend, back when she had time for you. He’s a little confused by just how fervently you love things, how you start to care one day and then never, ever stop.

He never did it before, but now the two of you watch garbage TV together. (You tried to invite your best friend to join you, but to Sasha’s satisfaction, she gave you that cringing sort of smile and told you she didn’t have time.) Every Friday comes a new episode of Crater County, this schlocky supernatural police procedural, so every Thursday night you ask him to watch it with you. He’s a busy man, of course, but he’ll fit it into his schedule since he knows you so look forward to it.

This Thursday you must have forgot.

Somehow, in the early morning on Friday, you slip away without Sasha noticing. He wakes up to the honks of geese and distant cars, and the ever-present hum of electricity. As he thinks of pestering you to make ham and eggs, just to watch you get annoyed, he notices the conspicuous lack of your heartbeat.

He knows better than to doubt his hearing. But he still goes into your room across the hall to find the bed unmade and unoccupied. He almost goes to check your pillow for warmth, only stopping when he realizes it’s...stupid, to do that. He stays in the doorway for a long moment, overly-conscious of your scent. Then he goes to pace in the empty kitchen.

It hadn’t occurred to you to say goodbye to him, or leave him a portion of breakfast as you usually do, so you must have been in a hurry. Distantly, he remembers your fast food job. You probably got called to cover for someone at the last minute. Even so, shouldn’t you have said something to him? So that he wouldn’t wonder? Because he’s—

—well, you called him your friend.

It bothers him the more he thinks about it, while he showers and gets coffee and goes to class. The two of you haven’t talked since Monday and it feels weird. You always tell him when you’re going out, so what happened? Where can he even find you?

Not that he would need to find you. Sasha isn’t clingy. Clingy is his ex making alt account after alt account to pester him on instagram with stupid questions like, “are you seriously trying to ghost me you asshole?” And Sasha isn’t doing that. He hasn’t even texted you yet, because you haven’t texted him, and you always text first. If you don’t go through with the trouble of asking for him, he absolutely will not bother coming.

You haven’t sent so much as a “hey!” in the last seventeen times that he’s checked, so. Guess you guys aren’t hanging out. Whatever. It’s not like he doesn’t have stuff to do. He’s behind on several classes, a habitual skipper, and there are four other people begging him to come out tonight. He hasn’t hunted in a while so he should probably do that too.

He should go and talk to other humans, re-acquire their speech patterns and body language. He should catch himself when he makes gestures you would make, stop himself from making them. That’s why he goes to lunch with a friend group he met last month, and fits in with them seamlessly—or, almost seamlessly. No one can say he isn’t a good talker, slick as oil and quick with comebacks, but he’s a little more sensitive than usual today. While he’s in the middle of charming them he slips up and says something you would say.

“Isn’t that a Crater County reference you just made?” One girl says to him, stopping the conversation cold. “I thought you hated nerdy stuff like that.”

Sasha laughs shortly. “What? Says who?”

“Says you. You laughed at someone’s Supernatural tattoo at the party, remember?”

“It was a fucking horrendous tattoo. And I don’t like Crater Country or whatever, either, I just know some lines because my,” his throat feels like a desert, but he continues, “my roommate is obsessed with that shit.”

They brush over that thought soon enough, shifting focus to upcoming concerts, but Sasha can’t get comfortable again. He feels like he forgot how eyes work, and his are going to slip and turn reptilian in the middle of this well-populated restaurant. He’s scared his hands are going to morph into paws. In the end, he excuses himself before he can finish his meal.

Since he’s still quite hungry, Sasha decides he’ll drop by the butcher and get a few pounds of beef chuck to tide him over until dark. He’ll go to that fancy shop with all the grass-fed cruelty-free organic stuff, because he’s passionate about the well-fare of livestock, and definitely not because it’s just down the street from your job.

But since he’s there, anyway, he’ll pass by and peek through the windows to see what’s happening there.

Your restaurant is packed. A sports team, or special event or something, has filled every table in sight, and more people queue up at the register. You’re boxing fries and passing them over to waiting customers’ trays. Even though you’ve got mountains of food to work through, you’re smiling. It takes only a few seconds to find out why, following the arc of your eye up to a man in the same uniform as you.

The guy is tall and average-looking, and he keeps leaning toward you to talk like he doesn’t know how to speak loudly even though he works in a goddamn kitchen. Sasha doesn’t know him by face, or by word of mouth, since you’ve never told him about a co-worker that can make you giggle so much.

Why hadn’t you told Sasha about the funniest man of the century, huh?

More importantly, why hadn’t you noticed the way this asshole was looking at you? Staring so intently, exaggerating his expressions, mirroring you. All the same tricks Sasha has used before but with none of the grace, and yet somehow you liked it from this guy when Sasha had seemed scary to you.

He just can’t understand. That wouldn’t be such a problem if he hadn’t believed that he did understand you, and the way your mind worked. You had said Sasha was your friend and you had sat in the truth with him, relieved to see him for what he truly was, and you had been asking after his health and his happiness, wasting nights with him, cooking for him, cuddling up with him, and now here you were forgetting about his existence with another friend that he didn’t know about.

Sasha has been cheated on by a partner in the past. They left him one night and came back in the wee hours smelling like a fresh shower, with traces of someone else’s odor still clinging to them. It hadn’t felt like anything, to know that they were sneaking behind his back. Not a betrayal, no sting or ache in the heart he supposedly had. He broke up with them a week after, and that, like all his other breakups, was simply annoying. Sasha had always felt like he wasn’t with any of the people he was with. He was watching them, and touching them, and living among them, but there was some kind of invisible barrier between him and all the world. So when they broke a connection, well, what was there to even break? How could he care?

And why did being cheated on come to mind when he saw you happy with some other guy?

Sasha would later find out that you pulled a twelve hour shift that day, and, pushover that you were, you didn’t take a break long enough to check your phone. But he doesn’t stay to watch you, he really couldn’t. A pit had formed in his stomach, some void, some black hole that he had to attend to.

He leaves you there in your job and your apparent fun, none the wiser, and goes to the butcher. He gets himself a rack of ribs, and a few pounds of steak, and a heart just because the shop had one on hand and they were happy to serve a customer with such deep pockets as him. He gets a couple of cheeseburgers for the ride home and finishes them in a few bites.

As soon as he knows your other roommates aren’t home, he tears into the paper packaging of the prepared meats and gorges himself over the kitchen sink, soiling his shirt with myoglobin. It all tastes like ash, disappearing into him the way so many things do. When he’s done, when every last shred of flesh and sliver of bone has been swallowed, his stomach growls.

He’s always been this empty. Maybe that was the thing you saw that made you so afraid upon first meeting him—the bottomless trench that he actually was.

You said he was your friend. You knew what he was and didn’t back away. But you have so little else in your life. If you gained anything more, real friends, real family, a lover, wouldn’t someone as hollow and alien as Sasha be easily discarded?

There’s nothing for it. He has to go and hunt now.

Your co-worker is pitifully easy to discover. By checking the likes on your posts, he finds the creep has been hounding you for three weeks now. His unmitigated social media addiction leaves the entirety of his existence splatter across the internet. Sasha learns and forgets his name. He knows exactly what place he’ll be at tonight, with whom, for how long. He shifts to look exactly like you, heads out and stops at the right street corner with a bulky gym bag, waiting.

It’s so easy. Sasha can play You, but this guy hardly deserves all that effort. It’s enough to show up magically with your face, even if your clothes and piercings seem out of place. All Sasha has to do is bat lashes and flash a smile that he has already memorized—your stupid sincere grin that had made you, like the sun, difficult to look at directly—and this idiot thinks the person in front of him is really you, out on the same night by coincidence. He’s happy to see you, and happier still that you want to go somewhere together. He lets Sasha take him by the hand, convinced that the two of you are going out for drinks through innocuously empty backstreets. It doesn’t strike him as weird that you’re so energetic and flirty all of a sudden. Asshole.

He at least has the decency to carry the bag, no doubt hoping to come off as a gentleman.

“Why a duffel bag, anyway?” He marvels.

“To change clothes before I go home, silly,” Sasha tells him, leading him further into the night.

It turns out the co-worker is deeply uncomfortable with silence. He cracks jokes that aren’t funny, to which Sasha politely chuckles for what is only ten minutes but feels like an hour.

“When you kept turning me down,” he says, predictably, “I was worried you had a boyfriend or something.”

“Why would I not tell you if I had a boyfriend?” Sasha croons in your voice, fighting with all his will-power to not crush your co-worker’s hand. They’re finally on a quiet street, between two condemned houses, where there are no cameras and no pedestrians.

“Haha, I don’t know. You’re like, really private. That roommate you talk about all the time? The one going to the same school? I honestly feel like I know more about her than I know about you.”

“You mean, ‘him’? Sasha?” Sasha blinks owlishly with your eyes, his heart melting a little when he imagines you gushing about him to other people.

The guy laughs nervously. “No, I mean Maya. Is Sasha another roommate? Have you mentioned her before?”

Really. Maya. That “best friend” who basically pretends you don’t exist, who takes up valuable real estate in your mind when some people who have spent months getting to know you don’t even get a text.

Sasha gives up on looking friendly.

Your co-worker has finally sensed something is off, wincing as he tugs his hand out of Sasha’s vice-grip. Stretching out his fingers, he asks, “Hey, how much farther ‘til we get there? I swear we’ve passed like, three bars already...”

He doesn’t get to say more because Sasha lets out his teeth and goes for the throat.

It must be said that a warm meal always beats a cold one, but other that that it’s a shitty fare, gristly and lacking in flavor. This guy’s blood, fresh from the veins, is flat and forgettable. Even the marrow of his bones disappoints. At least he didn’t put up a fight...though maybe some enrichment could have saved this boring dinner.

Sasha feels more bloated than full when it’s all over. He wipes down and changes into fresh clothes, stuffing all the bloody garments into the duffel bag. He still feels kinda gross, and considers a long, hot shower while picking muscle fibers from between his teeth.

Are you going to worry about your co-worker? Are you going to miss him? Will you cry if they identify his blood on clothes found in the dump? Will you even tell Sasha why you’re crying?

Sasha snaps out of his deep thoughts when his phone buzzes. The text from you reads:

hey! i forgot to ask, are you on for crater county tonight?

What the fuck. Renewed frustration flushes through his system. What is he, your backup plan? He has a life—actually, many more lives than you! You should know better than to screw around with his time. He shouldn’t even dignify your bullshit with a response, but he does anyway—

At a party

And your answer is,

oh ok

we’ll watch it some other time

have fun!

…

Stay safe ok! Call me if you need something

It’s such a low blow he has to wonder if you’re doing it on purpose: you’re telling him all the same things he’s heard you tell Maya when she blows you off. He can hear the disappointment and embarrassment in your voice, the way you assure her of your eternal affection and concern while she practically dismisses you. Once he’s imagining your face, then, all he wants in the world is to look at it.

He’s a good runner. He’s barely out of breath when he arrives home, tossing aside his sweaty hoodie and kicking off his shoes while he quietly closes the door behind him. The dishwasher is running. He can just make out the low moan of the central air system, and one lazy heart thumping in the living room.

For a moment you don’t notice that Sasha is there. He gets to watch you quietly. You’re languishing on the couch in your bedclothes, staring blankly at the No Signal screen on the TV with a bowl of popcorn untouched on the coffee table. It surprises him. He hasn’t seen you with an expression this dull in a while.

But it disappears in an instant.

“Sasha!” You bolt upright, your face brightening like the sky at dawn when you find him standing in the doorway. “Did the party end already?”

He doesn’t know what to say.

You glance back at the TV. “Um, I swear I wasn’t going to watch without you! I was just…”

“Were you waiting for me?” He asks.

Your expression flickers, betraying the anxiety in your eyes before you have the chance to look away. Why did he even bother to ask? You’re here for him, like a puppy waiting for their owner, and suddenly he’s flushed and queasy—no, it’s not sickness that he feels, it’s butterflies. He’s so delighted he feels dumb, all of his frustration and embarrassing angst vanishing in an instant because all he can think of is how sweet you are.

“Ah,” he laughs dryly. “I’m screwed.”

Before you even know to cry out, he’s thrown himself at you, arms coiling around your waist. The two of you fall back on the couch.

When you get your bearings, you scold him. “Sasha, don’t just do that! You scared me!”

He mumbles, “I had a bad day.”

“...you did?” Your left hand cups his head, almost protectively, and your right strokes his back. “What happened? You’re not hurt, right? Are you hungry? I have some stuff in the fridge—”

“Can we just stay like this?” He asks.

“U-um. Well...” You must be thinking of your other roommates, who could walk in on this scene and “misunderstand” the relationship you have with him. You don’t want to cause weird rumors or tension. But he wants you so much he can’t pretend to be above it anymore. He squeezes you just a little bit, betraying his own desperation, so you say tenderly, “Of course we can.”

It’s scary to be honest. Sasha considers it contrary to his nature. However, he has never in his life avoided adapting or transforming to get what he wants. If he has to bare himself again to endear himself to you, he’ll do it.

“You’re the best friend I have,” he admits, “and I didn’t see you all day, and I missed you.”

Your heart quickens. “Sasha…”

“I know I’m being clingy. I just can’t help it. Say you missed me too. Say I matter to you.”

“I did miss you,” you murmur, your smile bleeding into your voice. You pull him closer. “It feels wrong when we don’t talk all day. And I worry about you, you know. I never see you make a proper meal.”

“I like it better when you make it. So keep cooking for me. Please.”

“I was going to do that anyway,” you say.

His whole body thrums with satisfaction. You care about him so much he can feel it all the way through. He’s soaking up your warmth and savoring your smell, face pressed into your neck. Twisting his hands into your shirt, he finds that he resents your clothes. He even resents your flesh and bones for barring direct access to your heart. Right now, though, he’s almost content with a body in his grasp, a pulse fluttering under his lips.

God help him, he’s been starving for this.

#yandere x reader #male yandere x gn reader #monster yandere #yandere shapeshifter #yandere oc

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strange-dreams-are-made-of-these · 2 months ago

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In The Right Place And Time

Summary: Logan takes care of you after a mission. However, there's a part of the both of you that needs comfort. Tags: hurt/comfort, Logan struggling with his feelings, he deserves domestically and reader is happy to obliged. Reader is gender neutral!, Pet names ( Darlin', Cowboy) Word Count: 1.2k+

The mission lasted longer than anybody had expected it to. Though, with foes like Magneto and his pawns like Multiple Man, things were bound to get dicey. You were just glad to be back at the mansion where you could take a hot warm shower, get out of your suit, and rest in your bed.

What you didn't take into account was Logan following close behind you, catching your arm with his hand before you could even touch the knob of your bedroom door. "What is it, Logan?"

His hazel eyes searched yours, looking you over as he sniffed the air. He turned your hand over, lifting your sleeve up to reveal a nasty gash on your arm. "Let me clean this up." He spoke looking from the wound then back to your eyes.

Logan had stayed back during this mission, at Charles' request. He knew that sending all of the X-men out on a mission like this wasn't the best for the team. Somebody had to stay behind to act as the backup in case things went south. There had been a few times during the mission when he listened to you on the communicator. Times where you sounded calm and stilled your racing heart during fights.

He found your voice comforting, despite hearing about how you were nearly crushed by a concrete wall when you bravely pushed Storm out of the way.

"It's okay, it's just a cut. I'll clean it in the shower." You stated, observing the mutant. He had been much older than you, and just about everybody else you had known. Though he appeared in his early to middle forties while you were in your early thirties.

Logan shook his head. "Sorry, Darlin'. I can't let you do that."

Had he had his cowl on, you wouldn't have been able to see the emotions that were kept at bay behind his golden irises. Every movement between the two of you felt heavy. His hold on your hand was gentle, yet he still wasn't going to let you go. Others often observed the way you two interacted when you were together. Logan would place a hand on your waist or the small of your back if he passed behind you. He often would take up space for two on the couch, but if you were to join him he would happily scoot over and place his arm on the back of the couch just to be near you.

He also hated to see you going on solo missions or missions where he couldn't go. He wanted to protest this last mission, but he had already been in hot water with Charles to even protest.

You knew better than to argue with a man who had a metal skeleton. "Come in then," you told him, opening the door of your bedroom. He let go of your hand, agreeing. As he entered the space, he closed the door. Though you were quick to enter your private bathroom. He knew he couldn't win every fight, but to be in the same space as you and knowing you were safe meant everything to him.

As you showered, Logan took the time to look around your room, something he should have strayed from. Pictures of you and the rest of the X-men. The one that caught him off guard was the picture you managed to take with him, as it was the only picture on your nightstand next to a pair of sunglasses and an alarm clock. The others had been on a dresser, but you and Logan were on your nightstand.

He turned around quickly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watched you run a towel through your hair. "Everything okay, Logan?"

He cleared his throat, nodding, keeping his questions to himself. "Here, let me help ya."

You handed Logan the med kit you had in your room. You set the towel down next the the bathroom door, knowing you will have more things to clean up later.

The man avoided your gaze as he looked at your freshly washed wound. It would certainly scar by the end of the healing cycle. Just another reminder he had that you can get hurt. He applied a salve to your wound, then dressed it with some gauze and taped the sides down.

"All better, see?" You asked him, as his eyes and hands lingered on your arm a moment longer than necessary.

Logan hummed a little before looking back into your eyes. He seemed lost in a thought, a thought he couldn't quite figure out to word the proper way.

"Logan," He perked up when you spoke his name. "Do you want to stay with me? For a little while?"

Did he want to stay? How I've been waitin' on that question, he thought to himself. He couldn't let his true feelings be exposed that easily. "Sure," he whispered.

You took Logan by the hand, something that he wasn't used to, as you led him to your bed. You crawled into your side of the bed, patting the opposite side for him to get in.

Logan complied, pressing his back to your headboard after kicking his boots off. Once he settled in, you clung to his side, wrapping one arm behind his back and the other over his waist, hugging him like a teddy bear. He looked down at you as you settled in, pressing your head to his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, and how it increased with each passing second.

Logan laid an arm on your back, his hand running over your hair as the other laid over the arm you wrapped around him. His breath hitched as he heard your heart beat slow down. "Dalin', I ain't too good with these things." He spoke, closing his eyes as he felt a rumble in his chest. "I shouldn't have let ya go on that mission."

You felt comfortable in his hold as you pulled a blanket up over you and his lower half. "I don't like going on missions without you. I feel like I'm on edge, like something wrong will happen."

Logan sighed a little, swallowing the frayed groan he wanted to let out. "I seen the way you look at me. Hell, the others think something is going on between us." He thought about Scott and Jean, how they thought you two were the next couple on the team, aside from Rogue and Gambit of course.

You leaned up to look at him, your eyes scanning his. "You don't think something isn't going on between us, Cowboy?" It was a simple question, one that nearly broke the two-hundred-year-oldutant. You closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips to his soft, pink ones, taking one hand to cup his face.

Logan was shocked at first, but by the time your lips pulled away from his, he quickly wrapped both arms around you pulling you in for another. The way his calloused hands eased over your sore joints as your silent claim of love sent him over the moon.

He pulled back, dragging the back of his finger over your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. "I think something is now." He pulled the blanket back up over you two, wiggling the both of you around until he was laying flat on his back and you were resting high up on his chest. "I think we should lay here a while."

You agreed, resting your head on his chest again as his arms wrapped around you, making you feel instantly warm.

For the first time since leaving for the mission, you felt safe and comfortable again.

#marvel #logan howlett #x men #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan xmen #x men the animated series #x men 97 #logan wolverine

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knightyoomyoui · 1 year ago

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[SMUT] TWICE Mina x Male Reader - "House Of Balloons"

Requested by my buddy and fellow author @mintchoccy, I'm really sorry again if I haven't been able to write it for months, man. I had to focus on other works. Hope this would be fine enough to be worth the wait. TRIGGER WARNING: Aside from mature content, this contains drugs, violence, non-con ( I really didn't want to write with this theme but since it's my second attempt of writing a yandere Mina fic and for the sake of the plot, I had to give what the previous is lacking) and other uncomfortable parts. WORD COUNT: 5700+ TAGS: yandere, obssession, aphrodisiacs, viagra, rough sex, edging, dominant, worship, non-con element, torture, angst, smut Here's my Ko-fi account where you can drop your donations or ask for a commission. You can check it out on my Tumblr profile too! Buy knightyoomyoui a Coffee. ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui - Ko-fi ❤️ Where creators get support from fans through donations, memberships, shop sales and more! The original 'Buy Me a Coffee' Page.

"That fucking snake again."

Mina has had enough.

She calmly watches such an atrocity of a view, her hands fumbling vigorously within the curves of the wineglass, her fingernails scraping in time with the pattern of her gritting teeth covered through her tight-lipped lips.

The one that she likes- no, she loves - a lot legitimately is talking to somebody. It's their friend but in her perspective, she felt like she could just erase her existence and remove any identification of her being into her whole life.

That one and only man she's head over heels for quite a long time now is YN, unbeknowst to him that girl she's with, named Sana turns out to be one of his secret admirers in disguise.

And what's even worse, Sana doesn't even know that there's one more person who is impatient to fall in line just to snatch YN's heart from everybody else who wanted it, and that is none other than Mina herself.

She tried to hold it in for months, but with how many times she encountered that almost sucked the soul out of her with the tiny possibility remaining to complete for others to win over YN, she has now on her breaking point.

Every day and night passes, her craving, her longing, her desperation is going stronger and higher, and Mina felt like she'll gone out of her mind if she wouldn't do anything about it.

Just like today, it seems like Sana is going for the final blow to attract YN and possibly the worst case scenario might happen, and that is the confession part where Mina doesn't want to witness or hear it to happen.

She doesn't fall in the line, she made the line and she's the most deserving out of them all.

That why it came to this moment that Mina finally pronounces something that will guarantee her victory, a fight where she doesn't have to lose.

She doesn't give a damn if they want YN's love, she's the one who needs it the most.

"I'm going to make you mine, YN. Not even that flirty bitch or anyone could take you from me. We'll go blood for blood just for them to dare." Mina snarled with annoyance and a poisonous glare at the two. "We're going to be together, because we have to and I love you."

Mina first met YN when he brought his childhood bestfriend Sana to their group after Sana found out that her car isn't working properly. He got introduced to the group and with his kind-hearted and humorous personality, he managed to build a strong closeness with the girls.

Until that closeness turns into attraction for one of them aside from Sana.

YN was closest to the J-Line because he is Japanese, and even though he knows Sana a lot, he tried to spend time with Mina and Momo, and Mina was the one he focused more onto.

To be honest, Momo's personality was already fine but there's something that YN observed on Mina that made him check up on her all the time. She is mostly quiet, soft, and meek because of her introvert and elegant attribute, and YN always make sure that whenever he's hanging along with the girls, he wanted to feel that Mina always belongs to them to have fun.

Until suddenly, that fun had Mina searching for all the time, and she became selective only for him.

Mina's fond over YN grew from time to time. There has been instances where she would just start to look for YN, mention him, miss him, hear him. Just everything to feel his presence.

And that, turned Mina's obsession over YN inside out.

Her infatuation bloomed into an excessive devotion fueled by interest where she felt like not having any trace or signs of YN on her would have her less enthusiastic and stable.

The first time she did something very strange was back when Mina sat on YN's chair and muzzled her face around the cushion to inhale every scent he left there.

It leveled up to her stalking him wherever he go, memorizing the directions and time he appears and departs. She also tried to snatch and collect straws and cups that he used, wiping it around his lips then compressing it like as if she's engaging a make out with him.

Until it developed into something that easily malfunctions and thrives her horniness and perverted minds. She had many prints of her pictures with him and to aid her thirst for YN, she even bought a dildo for the first time and imagine it as his dick impaling her pussy by riding it while staring at YN's printed face on the pillow.

And now that she always gets to caught numerous almost close calls of Sana and other girls trying to take her away from her, it prompted her to finally step away from the shadows and make her move that will not require any further attempts.

YN is hers and hers only. As Sana went to the bathroom for a break, Mina came up to YN who is watching their other friends dancing to the floor while sipping on his wine.

"How's the night so far?" Mina talked to him and laid her hands on his shoulder.

"Doing good, but I starting to feel sleepy." YN chuckled. "I mean, I did everything I wanted now here, and now I don't know what else to do than empty these drinks and foods I have."

"Shall we get out of here and you know..." Mina started to move her hand, caressing his shoulder while it slowly lowers through his left pec. "Find something entertaining, make ourselves have some fun~"

She slightly presses her body, her breasts almost pushes through his arm. Her voice starts to become rougher and closer to his ears, making YN blush and feel a bit tensed up.

"I feel a bit bored now. My phone is now out, I hate that I forgot my powerbank."

"You wanted to play games, huh."

"Yeah, and I would really love to do it only with you, if you don't mind~", Mina smirked and squeezed her embrace on his side.

"You're lucky, I can feel my inner gamer loading up-"

"Hey guys!" Sana interrupted their conversation after returning from the bathroom. Mina cursed under her breath and her grip tightened on YN. "Sorry I had to take a break, YN."

"No it's fine, I had to say goodbye to everyone now anyway." YN chuckled. "I'm now tired and done for the night."

"Awwww already?" Sana pouted. "You can join us for one more-"

"Uhm, I think I'll be off now too, Sana." Mina cuts her out. She doesn't want his man to get anything involved with them until they get drunk. Their time is up and her turn is now. "I have low alcohol tolerance and I still have to visit my dad on the hospital tomorrow. Gotta sleep early."

"Not you too, Mina?!" Sana whined. Mina found it adorable but deep inside she's smirking mockingly at her for not being able to get through their zone anymore. "Okay, if that so then let's just catch up at the next party." Sana shrugged. "Be safe on your way home okay?

Mina just nodded and elicited a fake smile while YN smiled. He got surprised when Sana quickly hugged him tight and Mina sweared that she's doing her best at all to control herself from grabbing her arm and slamming her through the table.

"Say our goodbyes to the girls, okay?" YN said to Sana who gave her a cheeky smile while raising her thumbs up.

"Cmon, let's go." Mina swiftly tugs his hands and wrapped it around with hers. She hoped he wouldn't noticed her arms twitching at how good it feels to touch his soft skin.

As they exit the building, she halted and proposed an invitation to him. "Wanna go play with me at my place? I have a newly bought God of War: Ragnarok that I haven't been able to try yet."

"Wait what?! You already got it?!" YN reacted in awe. She knew he'll go hysterical since that is his favorite video game of all time. "No way, we better do it right now. Let's go!"

Mina escorted YN to enter her car and they drove straight to her mansion. They greeted the guard before he opened the gates for them. As Mina parked the car on her garage, they entered the mansion and YN was astounded at how great and rich Mina's family are.

"This is your first time here, right?"

"Yeah, and wow it does feels awesome and honored to be here." YN said as he travelled his eyes around here. "It's like stepping in here should be a priviledge because you'll never get an easy chance to experience this."

"Don't worry, you can stay here as much as you like. Treat this as your home now." Mina said as she walked through the kitchen before eyeing a sinister smirk on him who is still busy checking out the decorations around the place, too oblivious to notice the double meaning on her words.

She walked out of the kitchen with a bottle of alcohol and some cups with her. "Just thought of something to make this even more fun. Shall we do a drunk gameplay?"

"But you said you have to visit-"

"I lied." Mina said sternly. "I did that to make myself more convincing, so don't worry about me because I want us to spend more time together. I want to stay with you alone for now so don't go, please?"

YN nodded and smiled. "Sure. If that's what you want Mina, I'll be joining you."

Mina giggled and felt overwhelmed at his words. "Cmon, let's head upstairs."

They climbed and reached the second floor where Mina's guest room at. YN opened to room in assistance since Mina has her hands full with bottle and glass and they entered at Mina's private space.

Mina slightly got anxious when they passed her bedroom because little does YN know what would greet him once he saw what's in store there.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to get it." Mina said as she dashed through her forbidden area and hurriedly grabbed the cd and controllers.

As she heads back to the room, she found YN conversing through the phone. The call was in speaker and she heard Sana's voice that made her a bit fumed up.

"Yeah, I already got home. Thank you for asking, Sana." He said before bouncing his eyebrows on Mina who remained silent and just walked behind at him.

"Ohwww okayyy, gowd nightt okayyy, sleep and dream ahbout mewh, i- i lhove youuu!" Sana said with a husky, blabberish tone behind the call. YN was shocked to hear the last words she said to him while Mina... well she didn't took it that well at all.

She was about to pop off the cap on the bottle she heard Sana's "I love you" to him. Something just cracked open inside her mind and all she knew after is that she couldn't control herself anymore. She's moving away from her sanity now.

"W-wait, Sana are you drunk? You should go home now. It's already late." YN said, stuttering and made a chuckle as he is still processing what Sana just told him.

Mina on the other hand, placed the alcohol back on the table and went through her cabinet to open a drawer. She grabbed a bottle of viagra and aphrodisiac that she bought just in case the perfect has come where she will need it, and that finally happened tonight. She smashed it into pieces before mixing both of it to his drink and hers.

YN couldn't understand what Sana is saying now so he bid goodbye and wished her well before dropping the call. "Sorry, Mina I didn't know that she'll-"

"Scratch it. I know. Let me just set up the game." Mina didn't want to hear it no more. She starts to set things up until they are now allowed and ready to play. "Every minutes, we'll drink. Okay?"

"Noted."

As they started the game, Mina was quite hesitant at that rule because she couldn't endure longer the need and the crave increasing through her insides. Throughout the game she starts to rub her thighs and feel her panties getting soaked with her juices. She stares at the TV while biting her lip just to avoid moaning early.

The timer beeped for 10 minutes and finally Mina released a long sigh before beaming broadly in excitement. "Time to take a shot."

They both hold the cup and they faced at each other. Mina eyed YN and looked at his last innocence for tonight before they counted the three and simulteanously gulped all the drink. They both exhaled a refreshed huff before continuing to play the game.

7 minutes has only passed and they haven't been reached the next turn to drink but both of them can feel the effects now. While YN is playing, Mina started to became handsy on him, touching him all around his body and teasing his crotch by tapping his thighs and pretend to press his fists on it while she cuddled herself beside her.

Mina then balled her fists and cupped YN where she was shocked and impressed to discover how huge and heavy it felt around her touch. YN started to sigh heavily and look down on Mina's playful hand as his eyes starts to get cloudy.

"M-Mina, stop... i'm getting distracted." YN said between his sighs but Mina didn't listen.

"Ssshhh... just focus on playing. Don't fight it, you'll want it soon." Mina whispered in his ear before she bit his earlobe and licked the side of his neck and sucked on his skin to leave enough hickeys.

Mina's massage over his crotch became even more relaxing and enticing. "F-fuck.. w-what are you doing to me, Mina?"

"It's okay, baby~" Mina said as she peppers his cheek with kisses. Nobody could interrupt us, it's just and me... so get naughty if you want..."

YN has finally snapped and his stability has completely covered by the drugs he didn't knew he intake. Mina rotated his head and they went on for a sloppy kiss. YN's hand crawled through the back of her head where she pulled her face closer to his, their french kiss became even more rougher where their nose and their faces starts to rub altogether.

Mina took her place and bent down on YN's lap, where they resumed their kiss. He got to his feet, backed away, and grabbed Mina by the underside of her thighs, cradling her around his body.

They collapsed on the bed together where they had their freedom to make out as much as the drugs consuming their conscience could take. Mina removed his clothes and fiercely showered his body starting from his neck, to his chest down to his abs with licks and kisses.

Mina unbuckled his belt and dragged his pants and boxers down to expose his hardened cock already leaking with impressive amount of pre-cum, a proof that the drugs effectively had YN lusting as much as Mina would want him to feel as hers.

"I- I don't know what's happening to me, but Mina is making me feel good..." YN tries to shake his head but the substances are too strong for him to fight for control.

He surrendered on being overpowered and now he had to just watch Mina quickly stripping her dress, leaving her on her black lingerie with thigh-length stockings and suspenders. She slowly crawled to his legs and stared at him with pure seduction her hand slid through the base of his cock to grip while the other went on to cup his heavy full testicles.

"You don't know how much I've been wanting to taste you, YN. I'm glad I'm going to be the first one to do this, and no one will come after that... because this cock is only mine for me to devour." Mina said through her slow pumpings on his cock before starting to drag her tongue through the length of his shaft.

"Fuccckkk mhmph~" YN moaned as Mina circled the tip of his cock head, creating a tickling yet satisfying sensation. Her hand also began to massage her balls as she placed her cock inside her mouth to suck him off.

Mina's loud gargles and chokes around his cock adds an unbelievable sensation to YN. She tried to press his cock through her throat where her face is now almost touching his crotch. Her eyes starts to get watery until more than 10 seconds she released and went pumping on his dick.

She stood up for a while to remove her black panties before laying down on top of him in reverse, her legs wide open flailed each beside YN's head and for him to witness her dripping wet pussy presented to him in full clarity while her head is now beside her erected cock.

Mina tilted her head to direct his length back into his mouth to suck him off, poking her cheek enough to create a bulge while YN began to play with her clit and flicker his tongue around her walls.

They continue to taste each other until they reached their peak, with YN cumming first by spurting a big load on Mina's mouth, with the rest spilling on her face due to the excessive amount to contain before she followed by squirting her juices around YN's face.

YN opened his mouth to savor Mina's sweet nectar before both humping on their breaths to ride out their post orgasms and release their pleasure.

Mina rolled away from the top of YN's body to straddle him on his lap. She grinded her pussy back and forth on his cock before inserting it inside, creating a loud moan from her.

She started to bounce, fucking her tight cunt on her cock before YN joins her in sync by gripping her waist and starts drilling her upwards, causing Mina to scream and shriek.

The claps became louder and Mina's head rolled up at the intensity of the fucking YN is giving him. This is it, this is the exact feeling that Mina used to imagine having with YN and now, her fantasies has been fulfilled to end her long curiousity and anticipation.

"OHHH YESSS FUCK FUCK FUCK THAT'S IT YN MNGGGHHH HARDER! POUND ME FASTER AND DON'T STOP!!!" Mina cursed and murmured unknown words into his shrinking breath. She started to roll her hips to add more rhythm on YN's cock impaling her walls.

YN pulled her arm to press her upper body on her chest. They kissed again before Mina lets go to release a deep moan as she felt the bed creaking and her body bouncing at the full force of his cock drilling upwards to her abused pussy.

"I'M GONNA CUM I'M GONNA CUM DON'T STOP!" Mina's eyes starts to roll as her pupils were almost absent. Her mouth gaped open, spilling her tongue that is now savoring the heavenly pleasure of his girthy meat ramming through her womb.

"ME TOO! FUCK, NO I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!"

"FILL ME UP, I BEG YOU!"

With last strong thrusts remaining, YN and Mina came together, their own fluid mixed and bursted at the same time to intensify the sensation. YN carefully raised Mina up to slide off his slimy cock out of her dripping pussy.

He turned around and grabbed a handful of her perky tits to suck on them one by one. His gnawing and suckle on her nipples were strong and shallow which made Mina whimper in pleasure.

She turned her body to the side and YN raised one of her leg to the air. He rubbed his cock through her soaked lips before inserting it back again, and he didn't went too soft on Mina as he got way rough again on her treatment to the highly obsessed and sex-driven woman.

"ANNGGGHHH YES YES OH IT FEELS SO BETTER, OOOH FUCK I LOVE YOUR THICK COCK SO MUCH YN YEAHHHH UGHHH~ Mina said as she spammed praises again straight to YN's face before giving her again another kiss to shut her up and focus on the wild action they're having on her bed.

YN gets up and lifted Mina with him, not taking out his cock to switch positions. Mina balanced himself on fours and arched her back to raise her huge appetizing ass.

YN thunderously slapped it and takes off his cock for a while to bury his face on his and add stimulation on Mina's puckered hole before reinserting and proceeding to pound Mina just as harder as she wants.

Due to the combination of the viagra and aphrodisiacs they swallowed, the effects of it became multiple for them to go on lengthy fucking sessions for hours, almost emptying the night by trying many different positions.

They fucked on the window with Mina pressed on the glass, exposing theirselves to the outside world where many of the people in the neighborhood are asleep and unable to view to sinful act they're committing.

Mina was even taken through the wall, sandwiched by YN's body while hammering her pussy from below and kneading on her pair of tits bouncing hypnotizingly.

Then they went on a stand and deliver just beside the cabinet for Mina to hold on to, with his cock now demolishing her plump ass before he filled it up with another load of hot creamy cum.

Their wild night was so active, heated and intense that Mina slept through the dawn filled with cum on her holes and some scattered around his body. She looked at YN who is now asleep beside him, she kissed her on the head and grinned in lust and satisfaction for the last time before she succumb into slumber.

The morning arrived, YN woke up groggily and horrifyingly found himself naked on Mina's bed. As he sat up, he saw Mina appearing at the door, with a radiant smile on her face.

"YN! You're awake!" Mina lunges onto him and she showered him again with kisses while hugging her. YN became irritated and pushed her away, dropping her on the floor.

"W-what is this, Mina? What did you do to me, WHY AM I NAKED IN YOUR HOUSE?!", he panickedly asked the suspect.

"Oh, yeah. The after effects of the viagra and the aphrosidiac I put onto your drink are now gone so you couldn't remember." Mina sighed and shook her head in dismay.

"WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT THAT I DON'T REMEMBER?"

"I know, I know it's sad that you don't remember, you would've recall how much we had fun last night." Mina giggled as she slowly stood up.

"What the fuck? D-did I... no, no way." YN denied his guess. "No, I couldn't remember anything now after we played, y-you... drugged me Mina..."

His voice shifted into disbelief and he placed his hands beside her head, his fingers clawing on his hair. "Oh my god... w-what did you do to me, Mina? ARE YOU INSANE?!"

Mina just laughed at his agony. "You were the one who made me like this, I just did what I have to do, YN. You keep on involving yourself with Sana too much, how could you be so dumb that she likes you!"

"And what does it matter to you?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, YN!" Mina confessed. YN just stared at her in surprise. "I COULDN'T STAND SEEING THAT SLUT OR OTHER GIRLS LAYING THEIR HANDS ON YOU. YOU SHOULD BE MINE! I HAVE TO MAKE YOU MY PROPERTY BECAUSE I-IF I DON'T... WHAT WOULD HAPPEN TO ME?! I... I COULDN'T LIVE IN PEACE WITHOUT HAVING YOU NEAR ME."

Mina kneeled in front of him and looked at him with pleading eyes. "That's why I did what I had to do last night. If I claim you, no one would have the rights to steal what's mine. I get what I deserve to have, you're the one I pick YN! Nothing would stop me and not even you to say that you don't want to be with me."

"You have to love me, YN. I can give you everything you want. This place, it could be your home. We'll turn this into a happy house of balloons, and we'll always gonna have fun as much as you want!" She said as she crazily giggled with her tears flowing through her eyes.

"No... fuck this. You're out of your mind, Mina. I'm leaving." YN quickly stood up and snatched all of his clothes on the floor as he left Mina alone in the room.

Mina's expression changed from odd into a complete unhinged seriousness. She slowly stood up and took out something from her pocket.

YN was about to dress up on his boxers when he noticed something at first before feeling a sudden tingling cursed through his body.

"OH... AGH SHIT!" He shivered and turned to look at the eyes of Mina wearing an unrecognizable face while pressing something like a remote on her hands.

She activated the cock ring she placed in his cock to the full volume after she woke up to make her avoid escaping in case he attempts to, and she called exactly what's going to happen.

YN's moaning goes louder as he witnessed his cock now leaking already with pre-cum. "S-STOP... PLEASE!"

Mina stopped pressing the remote and walked at him. She stomped on his crotch, making the exhausted YN unable to move more.

"You're in my world now, YN. Whether you like it or not, you're staying with me. You belong to me now and nobody else's." Mina intimidatingly declared. "No matter how your mind wants to leave, you can't go and I will never let you go. We will be together forever from now on, do you understand?"

YN started to tear up at the sight of this new darker side of Mina he never thought he would be introduced into. "W-why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I love you, and you will learn someday that loving me too is the best decision you'll ever have." Mina cupped his cheeks and pinched on it. "By the way, the breakfast's ready. Don't you dare do something stupid or else, I'll punish you. Understand?" "Y-yes..."

"Good. For now, let me get my own protein to start this morning." Mina smirked and cackled as she jerked his cock again with her fist again and also through tugging the cock ring back and forth with her fingers.

YN had to endure letting Mina edging his cock for minutes until she decided to release his cum on her glass, tapping her reddened cock head on it and slurping it with her warm mouth to ensure not even a drop would get wasted. YN then disgustingly watched Mina drink his cum through the glass like it's a milk.

YN has been imprisoned by Mina's so-called paradise for 2 months. He tried many attempts to escape and nothing worked. Instead, he just got caught by Mina repeatedly and in result, he had to suffer on the consequences.

When YN got caught by Mina looking for some keys in her room, his hands were smashed by a screwdriver 20 times then commanded him to finger her pussy until she cums. He even tried to peek from some of the windows and shout for help, and Mina blocked all of his sense of sight and ability to speak later that night by muffing him with a scarf and tying his arms on each side of the bed, where Mina would play all over his body and drain his energy afterwards.

Due to that incident, Mina also began placing more cameras around the house to keep a closer look on him. That didn't made YN to stop though as his desperation for freedom still motivates him to keep on looking for other ways.

He attempted to look for his phones but all of it are gone. Even he pleaded at the guard to let him borrow his own but the guard refused for his own sake, stating that if Mina finds out he might get punished and fired for the only job that's keeping him on living.

The more security devices Mina keep on placing around the house as days passes unfortunately made YN to began losing hope on escaping this hell hole. Even his chances for Mina to change her heart for him already ran out, as he has now finally accepted that this isn't the same Mina he once met.

He became Mina's personal slave, pet and a fucktoy, not being able to let him rest even for a day.

Through every corner of the house, Mina would find a way to force him provide the pleasure she seeks by having sex with her through multiple angles and tasks. Doggy at the shower, blowjob while washing dishes, rimming while in laundry or even a 69 during massage.

On the other hand, the girls began to suspect something strange on the disappearance of YN, especially Sana. They all know that Mina was the last person YN has been with, and Sana is monitoring Mina since she have this weird gut that Mina is hiding something from them.

And she was right. One day while she tried to visit Mina's house, the guard didn't let him in. Instead she took a photo of the mansion and informed it to the girls. Dahyun who has a sharp locating skills, found something shocking.

"Unnie, did you notice this?" Dahyun sent a message to Sana before replying it with a cropped photo. Sana stared at it for a second before her mind processed a frightening revelation.

"Isn't this oppa?"

Dahyun discovered a blurred reflection of YN's face screaming at the window.

1 year later, YN visited a psychiatric hospital in Seoul. After meeting a doctor in his office, they walked through the hallway and passed through some nurses, patients and guests to reach the visitation room.

The doctor returned and this time, he brought the person YN came for has entered the room on the opposite side behind the glass.

Mina is wearing a white patient attire with handcuffs removed on her hands for a while. She was arrested when her former friends reported her crime and was sent through at herapy when they discovered that Mina has been diagnozed with psychological and mental disorder.

Her eyes widened at the sight of YN looking at him with poker face.

She remained silent and lowered her head in guilt and shame for more than a minute before YN cuts it off to avoid wasting time.

"How are you?"

Mina was shocked to hear him checking up on her. "W-Why did you come here?"

"Just answer my question." He remained deadpanned.

She gulped and nodded. "I'm fine."

"Good, I guess." He struggled on looking for other words to say to her but Mina went different than him.

"I'm sorry."

He looked at Mina staring at him awfully. "For everything that I've done to you. I know it's not enough for me to redeem my sins but I just want to apologize to you because you deserve it."

"A year has passed Mina, but I had to admit that I'm still trying to recover from what you did to me." YN said to her. "It was a nightmare that always keep me up at night. You scarred my life, took my virginity away without consent, y-you... you violated me, Mina."

His tears started to drop on his cheek. Mina's heart shattered at the aftermath of what she had done. "For the first time in my life, I've never felt so frightened and worried for my state, not even I would expect from the one I admire."

"W-what?" Mina muttered at the phone. She leaned her head closer. "What did you just said?"

"It's true, I did loved you, Mina. It was always you, but I don't think I could tell the same anymore after what you did to me."

"You didn't know, and sometimes I have this guilt and regret with these what ifs of my mind that... if I confessed to you earlier, would you not turn out into someone I never wanted you to be?" YN continued.

Mina started to sob in devastation. She buried her face in embarrassment as she cried harder, hearing all the confession and scolding from the man she thought she would never had a chance at, that's why she did the unthinkable.

Little did she knew that she was actually winning already right from the start. She was the one YN already prefer the moment he met her and how his fond for her developed.

"I should've been patient. Oh God, I'm so sorry..." Mina said. "I could've waited for you, but I never did. I became so desperate, selfish, obsessive, and too greedy on you that I let myself gone crazy when I thought I would be losing you."

"I love you, YN and I meant that... but I understand now that you won't feel the same for me anymore. You don't deserve a psychopath who will make your life a living hell and traumatize you in any ways possible."

YN now felt a glimpse of pity and distress for Mina. The girl just became too attached and mentally unstable caused by the power of love she received that she couldn't contain, and now she fell in victim for it.

This is why he couldn't help but to blame himself believing he has also have a fault that if he didn't became too coward on his feelings, he could've saved Mina and immediately introduce her the adoration she was hoping to receive from him.

"Did I made you scared?"

"Always." Mina whispered. "I was always alone, my parents always abandon me in our house, I know I have my friends with me but... there's something that you did to me. You're the one who cures my loneliness. I thought that if there was a chance that I could make you love me back, you will stay with me all time like you always do and we'll grow together until the end. "

"And I could've done it to you without hesitation, Mina." YN disappointingly stated. His face twitched as another stream of tears escaped in his eyes. "I forgive you, but I will never condone what you did to me. Goodbye, Mina."

Mina smiled at his remark before he stood from his seat. About to walk away, Mina shouted his name for the last time.

"YN!"

He looked back.

"Thank you and don't desert yourself in love because of me, please. Sana likes you, she'll need you and I think you're better off with her. Atleast for her, she could make you happy unlike me who couldn't give it to you in return."

He slightly smiled and remembered that reminder. "I'll ask her later."

He walks out of the room just as the time runs out for his visit. Mina surrendered herself to the doctor and to the police who handcuffed and escorted her out. Mina carried a mix of lingering sorrow and relief, realizing that her mistake cost her to manifest her fears in full reality, that she'll be alone forever but what mattered more for her now is that she'll continue living knowing that YN is now is in good hands.

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httpscomexe · 5 months ago

Text

Ensnared 3

Summary: You’ve never been one to follow your dreams, and for a reason. But after you finally learn the truth, you know there’s no turning back.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Yandere!Logan Howlett x PlusSize!Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) THIS IS A DARK CHAPTER. Implication of death, panic, anxiety, lies, language, description of death, fever dreams, reader can see into the future, description of past injury, blood, violence, hallucinations, yandere, this is getting dark already. I beg of you, read the warnings, and MINORS do NOT interact. This chapter is NOT suited for people of a young age or anyone who cannot stand the description of death including blood. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.

Tags: @sammyluvsfics

Word Count: 3426 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 4

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

P.P.S. Everything with a gruesome description or horrifying act will also be in bold italic.

I CANNOT stress it enough, do NOT read this if you are sensitive.

You don’t know where you are when you wake up.

It felt surreal. Or like a horribly placed fever dream.

It was dark. You couldn’t see anything, but you felt a cold breeze as the feeling of ice cold air brushed your bare shoulder.

One thing was for sure.

You weren’t in the mansion.

You were someplace else. Somewhere you’ve never been before.

Then there’s a blood boiling scream from outside of the room you were in, your vision starting to adjust to the darkness just as the door swings open. The light from the outside of the room is bright, but something about your vision didn’t seem real.

“Get the fuck on the bed!” A voice says as a girl is dragged into the room by her hair, then a booming sound before another scream erupts from the girl's throat. “I said get the fuck on the bed!” The man shouts again as the girl quickly scrambles to her feet, a limp now in her step before she makes it to the bed, quickly crawling next to you but you scramble back a little.

“What-!” Is all you can manage. The man and woman seem to be shadows as they get closer, they don't have a face.

And they also don’t seem to see you.

“Please!” The girl screams as the man crawls on top of her, his gun pointed under her jaw with his index finger resting on the trigger of the weapon. “I’ll behave! I’m sorry!” She shouts, a little too loud for his liking as he raises his hand and brings the back of his hand straight against her cheek, causing her to yelp in pain.

“Just shut the fuck up.” He growls, but his voice seems more distant as he says each word. Then the room seems to still, and when you look up again, both faceless shadows are staring at you. The distant sound of a thousand whispers crowding your brain.

But then it all goes quiet.

Too quiet…

You turn your head left and right, moving quickly until your back is against the headboard of the bed. And nothing happens for a moment.

Everything is still, and your eyes are once again trying to adjust to the darkness.

Then you hear footsteps… Quick, light, footsteps.

“RUN!” It screams, the bloodied white face with dark black eyes staring into your soul before quickly disappearing in the dark, but you continue to scream, tears streaming down your face, but whispers continue to scream in your ears as you cry, covering your ears with your palms as they scream wake up.

“Wake up-“

“WAKE UP!”

“Wake up bubba, come on…”

Your eyes shoot open, and you sit up so fast you’re surprised you don’t get whiplash as a force tries to keep you down.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down.” A voice tells you, and you finally start to come back to your senses.

“Stop!” You try to scream, but a hand covers your mouth as weight presses down on your entire body. You could breathe, but you were terrified.

“Shh… Honey you’re okay…” A voice tells you, the softness calming you down along with the gentle strokes as he brushes your hair with his fingers, massaging your scalp gently, finally getting you to calm down. Your eyes landing on Logans, reality coming back to you as you realise his hand is laid over your mouth, and his body was laid over yours.

“L-” You mumble behind his hand, and he removes it as he realises you’re calmed down. “Logan?” You whisper, looking around the room. “What- What happened?”

“I don’t know, I think you were having a nightmare. You were talking then you started screaming and crying so I just-” He blurts it all out at once, his fingers gently but urgently combing through your hair as if calming you was the most important thing in his life, and his lips kissing around your face everywhere but your lips with urgency, making you scrunch up a little but you begin to giggle, his kisses tickling your face and stopping your tears.

“Lo- Logan I’m okay…” You tell him and he places one last kiss to your cheek, lasting a little longer than the others, you can feel how tense he is, and looking down you can see how his muscles flex, genuine worry showing on his face. “Can you get off please?”

He does, pushing himself up and off of you, lying back next to you as you sit up.

“How’s your leg?” He asks, sitting up next to you and leaning over your lap to inspect your thigh. You look over at his alarm clock, it was already four in the morning, you suddenly felt bad for waking him so early, but he seemed so intent on making sure you were alright.

“It definitely needs to be replaced, you might’ve broken a stitch when you were struggling.” He tells you, getting up from the bed and leaving to his bathroom to retrieve something, and you take a peek at your thigh, it was bleeding through the bandage the nurse had put on it definitely needed to be replaced.

“Yea, okay.” You move off the bed a little, making an effort to stand and it hurts your leg as you do. You hear a drawer close and look up to see Logan standing in thought. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have my bandages here, I think they’re back at my place.”

“Your place?” You limp over to him, and he nods as his eyes move to look at him.

“Yea, I go there a lot.” He sighs a little. “I can go down to the nurses office, but it might be locked right now.” You nod a little.

“It’s probably locked. Do you have anything in your car maybe?”

“I don’t. If you want, we can both head down to my place though, then come back before morning.” You think about it. You really didn’t want to leave the mansion.

“Can I just stay here? I’m tired. I’ll just wrap it with an old shirt for now.” You shrug and he nods, going to his dresser and pulling out an old shirt, but you could see the disappointment in his eyes. You knew he wanted you to go with him, but you didn’t feel… right…

He bends down, wrapping the shirt around your thigh to at least prevent some of the bleeding.

“Of course you can stay, I’ll be gone a few hours, but I’ll be back before the nurse wakes up.” He tells you. “I just… have to get something then I’ll be on my way.” He comes back to you, hugging you before going to leave the room. “Get some sleep.” He tells you, then leaves the room. You limp back to the bed. Of course you weren’t going to actually attempt to go back to sleep. You lie awake for a solid hour before your body tells you to rest. Your vision going black as sleep finally chases you. He will be back tomorrow morning.

“Help.”

You hear a whisper, and your eyes shoot open again, and your back in the room.

“Y/N, you need to hide.” The voice was scared, the girl sounded as if she had been crying. But she sounded so… familiar…

“Don’t listen to him.” You couldn’t see who was talking, but it sounded so familiar, like it was a voice you heard every day. Your dreams have always been known to be right. But normally they aren’t so… demonic.

“HELP!” The voice screams. It was in pure agony.

“He’ll kill you! He’ll-!”

The voice cuts off, a loud bang replacing her cries.

You look back and forth, expecting another face to pop in front of you, scaring the absolute shit out of you again. But it doesn’t happen.

So you take the risk.

You get off the bed, the sound of the floor creaking sounds distant as you make your way to the door. Taking a deep breath before placing your palm on the handle, but pausing.

You know it’s a dream… but… it all felt so real.

You take the risk, opening the door and taking a single step out, the hinges on the door also sounding distant as you make your way down the void of a hall. Everything black except a light hanging from a single chain, lighting up the dark void as a tall figure stands under it.

“Hello?” You didn’t understand why you bothered speaking, obviously your dreams wouldn’t be able to hear you.

“Sit. Down.” The figure tells you, a chair suddenly coming to form. But you don’t move. “I said sit down!” It yells, and you move quickly to the chair, but it seems as if you’re forced to rather than moving at your own will, like the vision has control of your body.

The moment you look back up though, you’re staring down the barrel of a gun, and you freeze.

“Why don’t you just listen to me, bub? After everything I’ve done for you!” You’re pushed back in the chair, and it tips over as you fall to the floor. Another room around you as you stay on the floor, your palms against the ground.

You stand up quickly, almost tripping over something on the ground as you look down at your hands, some sort of liquid on your hands before your eyes trail down to the floor again, and you scream.

“Vincent?” You get to your knees, your hands hesitantly hovering over her as you look down at her, her eyes open in shock, and her jaw slack, and her face white.

“Her-” Her voice cracks.

“What?”

“Her!” She screams now, then she continues to scream the word, over and over, until it was ringing in your head.

“Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her!”

“STOP!” You scream, your hands covering your ears, and your eyes closed tight.

And then it stops.

Your eyes open. Vincent's face barely an inch from yours, tears streaming down her face, her mascara running down with her tears. And a trail of blood seeping down from the hole in her forehead, running down the centre of her nose until it stopped at her open, chapped lips.

“Why would you be interested in someone like her?”

You inhale a deep breath, as if you were being held under water, and a pain to your thigh causes you to knee something hard.

“Fuck!” Logan stumbles back, one of his hands holding his nose as his other hand curls into a fist at his side, and you immediately stumble forward towards him, ignoring the pain shooting through your body as you put pressure into your leg.

“Shit I’m sorry Logan, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.” He tells you, gently grabbing your shoulders and steadying you. “Get back on the bed, I was wrapping your thigh.” He demands, harsher than he means to and you look down at your thigh, the original bandage taken off, your wound currently exposed.

Vincent.

“Okay.” You move back, sitting half on the bed so your thigh is accessible.

“Thank you…” He mumbles, leaning down as he uses the bandages he placed on the table to wrap your thigh after spreading some cream over the wound.

“I’m sorry Logan…” You whisper, looking up at him as his eyes flicker over to you.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. But what's been going on honey?” He finishes, then sits next to you on the bed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you against his side.

“I don’t know Logan… It’s really hard to explain. I think I need to talk to Xavier.”

“Oh come on. Maybe it’ll help you clear your conscience.”

You sigh. Not sure if it was the best idea.

“I can see the future. But not clearly.”

“So…” He pauses for a moment, trying to understand you. “You can heal people, and you can see into the future. But not completely?”

“I can’t even heal people the way you think I can.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I heal people, yes, it removes their injuries, but it transfers it onto my body.”

“So… essentially. If someone was stabbed, and you ‘heal’ them-” He makes air quotes with his fingers. “-the stab wound would be transferred onto your body?”

You nod. “Yea, and normally in my visions I can’t see faces, only shadows… But this time-” You pause, not sure if you should tell him. Vincent was dead.

“Bub?”

Bub?

“Sorry-” You come back looking into his eyes. He- “-I just… I really need to find Xavier.” You tell him, quickly standing up and making your way to the door, ignoring the burning pain in your leg as you basically jog out of his room, and head straight towards Xaviers office.

“Hey are you- Umph-!” You throw yourself at him, streams of tears falling from your eyes as his hand gently rubs your back. “Hey sugar what’s wrong?” He asks, guiding you over to sit on his desk as he pulls you off of him and pulls some tissues out of a box to wipe the tears from your face. “What’s going on?” He asks again, and you finally find it in you to speak.

“I- I don’t know what’s going on. I was sleeping, then she was shot. And Vincent was dead. There was blood, so much blood. Then Lo-” You pause, not wanting to use his name yet.

“I don’t know what you’re describing at all right now.”

“My dream, I had a dream.”

“About Vincent being dead?”

“Yes, and-”

“I haven’t seen Vincent today.”

You pause. What?

“Have you?” He asks, gently pushing some hair behind your ear as you shake your head.

“Professor X-” Another student walks in, both of your heads turning towards the door to see the confused look on her face. Only then did you realise the position you were in. Sitting on Xaviers table, your legs open, with him sitting in between them.

Just as the student leaves, about to awkwardly close the door as Xavier is stepping out from between your legs, the door is held open, and Logan steps in, closing the door behind him as his eyes watch Xavier move away from you, his pupils blasting before he speaks.

“I just got a call from Vincent, she needed some help with her car, it isn’t starting.” She’s suspended. You remember, a relieved sigh leaving your throat, not acknowledging the sideways look Logan throws at you.

“What’s wrong with her car?” You ask.

“Flat tire.”

“Can I come with you?”

“You know you two don’t get along.”

“We will, I promise.”

Run.

“Are you okay?” Xavier asks suddenly, and your eyes flicker over to him.

“Yea why?”

“You blanked for a second there.”

You look around the room, taking a deep breath.

“I just think I… I really need to get out for a few hours, Logan. Please?”

He gives Xavier a look, but Xavier hesitates, looking back at you before mouthing are you sure?

You nod, hopping off the desk as you walk up to Logan. “Please?” You ask, grabbing his hand.

“Okay, but no fighting. We’ll see you later Xavier.” They exchange their goodbyes, and you both leave the office.

If you can get to Vincent, and convince her to leave, then maybe you could save her. Maybe he won’t hurt her. And maybe she’ll still be alive. You know she must still have to be alive, since Logan has been with you all day and night now.

You get into his car, an old rusted pickup truck, locking in your seatbelt before he takes off.

Wait… No he hasn’t- he left to get bandages.

“Hey Vin, what’s going-?” He pauses, no one in the car. You don’t leave his truck, he asked you not to in case you both started fighting.

“Is everything okay?” You shout out the window and he looks back over at you.

“She’s not here.” He shouts back, getting back into the driver seat.

“Why would she leave if she knew you were coming?”

“I don’t know hun.” He checks his phone, a new message popping up on his screen, from Vincent, and you peek over at it.

“Alright, stay here, I’m gonna connect it to the truck.” He puts his phone down in the centre and gets out of the truck again, opening the back to get something about before slamming it shut, the sound making you jump a little in your seat, and a clicking sound happens as your seatbelt locks. Dammit… You go to unbuckle it, to reset it, but it doesn’t unclick.

“Alright.” You jump at the sound of his voice and he starts the engine while staring at you. “Are you okay? Why’re you so jumpy today?”

“I must just be tired, sorry.” He nods a little.

“Okay well… It says she’s at my place, so we're just gonna go pick her up then we’ll go back to the mansion.” He tells you, not fastening his seat belt as he drives off, Vincent's car hooked to the back of his truck.

“How long of a drive is it?”

“Just up the road, walking distance.” He tells you, pressing on the gas as he drives just a few minutes up the road, turning into the trees and onto a gravel driveway, a small cabin eventually showing through a small clearing.

“Is that it?” You ask, voice sounding meek.

“Yea, that’s it. Small but- I barely come here anyways.” He parks in front of the cabin and turns off the engine, beginning to step out.

“Wait Logan I-” He slams the truck door shut, and it feels like your heart falls to your stomach as you frantically click at the red button on the seat belt, but it won’t come loose. You’re stuck.

“Here.” You jump again as your door is opened and Logan reaches over you, sticking a metal pin into the side of the buckle before pressing the red button, and it comes loose. “There you go.” He groans as he steps back down and moves to the back of the truck and you quickly jump out. “Can you go in and find Vincent? She said she’s in the bathroom.”

You nod, and head inside, the door cracked open so you assume Logan has already been inside. So why didn’t he look? You wonder, taking the first step in and the wood creaks under your foot. The inside would be pitch black if the sun wasn’t shining through the window, though there would be a lot more light if there weren't trees surrounding the little cabin.

“Vincent?” You shout out, closing the front door behind you. As you look around, it all seems so familiar. The creaking floor, the dark walls, and the single bulb hanging from a single chain. “Uh… Vincent?” You shout again, more quietly this time. Making your way to the bedroom, peeking in but not seeing anything, then looking in the bathroom across the bedroom. “Vin?” You peek your head in, and flick the switch on. Still nothing.

Except for the quiet dripping sound coming from the faucet. You sigh in relief, but wonder where Vincent was. Maybe there’s a backdoor and she’s out talking with Logan right now? You assume, hoping for the best as you walk to the tub, the curtains covering the inside as you reach behind them, turning the handle all the way off on the tub before pulling back. Your palm is covered in blood. “Fuck.” You mumble, but it comes out as more of a whisper as you squeeze your eyes closed, hoping it wasn’t real, that it was just another nightmare.

You take a deep breath, and you take a step forward, slowly pushing the curtain aside. But there she was. Vincent laid in the bathtub, her mascara painting her cheeks black and-

You turn, running out of the bathroom as your stomach twists in disgust, and you make your way to the front door, trying to pull it open, but it doesn’t budge.

“Shit-!” You cry, then the door opens and you zoom forward before looking, running straight into Logan. “Logan-!” You freeze, his hands on your arms holding you still.

“What- Oh.” He tilts his head a little. “I take it you found Vincent.”

#marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x reader #wolverine #logan howlett #logan x reader #yandere #dark #tw noncon #xmen #xavier

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elliesappetite · 21 days ago

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The Name That Broke Us (Realisation)

FREE PALESTINE

"Somebody Else" - The 1975

Rating: 17+

Tags: Angst, angst with no comfort, Vi is still in love with Caitlyn.

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The flickering light of the single lamp in your apartment cast long shadows across the small room. You and Vi had just returned from a particularly grueling day in the Undercity, one filled with tension and the weight of a dozen little battles that never seemed to end. But now, here you were, trying to create a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

Her hands were on you, rough and calloused from a life of survival, yet tender in their movements. Vi’s fiery intensity had always been what drew you to her. There was a passion in her touch, an unspoken promise that she’d fight the world for you. And for a while, it felt like you were her world.

But tonight, something was off. There was a hesitance in her touch, a faraway look in her eyes even as she pulled you closer. You tried to ignore it, chalking it up to exhaustion. After all, Vi had a lot on her shoulders, and so did you.

Then it happened.

“Caitlyn,” she breathed, the name slipping past her lips like a dagger aimed straight at your heart.

Everything stopped.

Your hands froze where they had been tangled in her hair, your breath catching in your throat. At first, you thought you misheard her, but the look on her face confirmed it. Her eyes went wide as she realized what she’d just said, horror replacing whatever fog had clouded her mind.

“Y/N, I—” she began, but you pulled away before she could finish.

“No,” you said sharply, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “No, you don’t get to say her name. Not here. Not like this.”

Vi reached for you, but you stepped back, needing space to process the sting of betrayal that was blooming in your chest.

“I didn’t mean it,” she said, her voice low, almost pleading. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” you snapped, your voice louder now. “You don’t accidentally say someone else’s name in the middle of this, Vi. That doesn’t just happen.”

Her face twisted in frustration, but it wasn’t aimed at you. “I’m sorry, alright? I—I wasn’t thinking.”

“Clearly,” you shot back. “Because if you were thinking about me, then Caitlyn wouldn’t even be on your mind right now. But she is, isn’t she? She’s always there.”

The room fell silent except for the sound of your uneven breathing. Vi looked at you, her expression torn between guilt and defensiveness.

“She’s not… it’s not like that,” she said finally, but her words rang hollow.

“Then what is it like?” you demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re still in love with her.”

Vi’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, she didn’t say anything. That silence spoke louder than any words could.

“That’s what I thought,” you said, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “You know, I’ve tried to ignore it. The way you talk about her, the way your eyes light up when someone mentions her name. I told myself it didn’t matter because you chose me. But now… now I’m not so sure.”

Vi took a step closer, but you held up a hand to stop her. “Y/N, please. You have to believe me when I say I care about you.”

“Care about me?” you repeated bitterly. “That’s not enough, Vi. I need more than that. I deserve more than that.”

“You do,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart. I want to be that for you, I really do. But…”

“But Caitlyn,” you finished for her, the weight of her unspoken words crashing down on you.

Vi’s silence confirmed what you already knew. Tears stung at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing you break.

“I can’t do this,” you said finally, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. “I can’t be with someone who’s still hung up on someone else. You need to figure out what you want, Vi. And until you do, I’m done.”

You turned and walked toward the door, grabbing your jacket on the way out. Vi called after you, her voice desperate, but you didn’t look back.

As you stepped out into the cold night air, you felt a mix of anger, heartbreak, and strangely, relief. For the first time, you were putting yourself first. And while it hurt to leave, you knew it was the right thing to do.

Vi had to face her feelings for Caitlyn, and you couldn’t be the collateral damage in her emotional tug-of-war. You deserved to be someone’s first choice, not their second.

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Authors Notes: I've had this in my drafts for a while and I finally decided to post this. If you want to be in my tag list, let me know.

#vi x reader #arcane #caitlyn kiramman #free palestine #free gaza #palestine #gaza #free gaza 🇵🇸#free palestine 🇵🇸#from the river to the sea 🇵🇸#i stand with palestine 🇵🇸

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i-heart-yellowstone · 7 months ago

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5 - Ain’t Kids Anymore

Part 6

Raised Fair Share Of Hell

Tag list @bvbwestfall @hcwthewestwaswcn @child-of-of-the-sunshine @elenavampire21 @keep-the-wolves-close @kmc1989

“Faith, Faith, Faith!” I hollered from the porch searching for my daughter since I hadn’t seen her up this morning yet. Walking down the steps I went to the barn still calling her name, still not finding her in there. “Faith!”

“Faith, get away from the fence!” Whipping my head around at the different voice I recognized it belonged to Rip Wheeler, John's most loyal ranch hand. He was tugging her backwards away from it when a horse charged at it.

The horse that was in the fenced pen had just thrown John off into the dust. “Are you okay, grandpa?” Faith asked him.

“I'll be okay, Faithy Rae.” John groaned, popping his back when he walked up to the fence looking at Rip. “We need somebody else to break that horse in.”

Rip paused knowing just the one. “Jimmy's new here. He's the youngest and this guys got still got some fighting left in him.”

“Sounds Good “ John agreed.

I finally walked up to the group picking up my daughter in my arms and she laid her head in the crook of my neck. “What are y'all talking about over here?”

“Talking about who can run the shit out of that new horse - oh sorry.” Rip apologized remembering that a kid was in our conversation.

Faith lifted her head up from my chest. “Mommy, have you ever run the spirit out of a horse?”

“I have a couple of times and it’s no fun for your butt.” I told her simply.

John chuckled, bending his head down glancing at me. “Oh I’ve seen the last horse you broke in before you got pregnant and that escalated into something so much worse. I thought your father was gonna have your ass.”

“I remember that incident quite well, sir.” Rip chuckled at me.

Faith tugged on my shirt curious. “What happened, mommy?”

“Oh just some somewhat harmless fun is all. Back when you're mommy was a different person.” I explained to her thinking about the night all of us kids get our asses handed to us by our parents.

It was a clear evening on my parents ranch with Alana and I deciding to invite over the Dutton kids for some fun. Jamie and Beth had already gone off to college for the year so that just left Kayce, Lee, Alana and me. Rip was far too loyal to John Dutton to come participate in our midnight fun. Alana flings open the double barn doors and together we walked up to the newest horse that our father had bought. “This is gonna be so much fun.” She whispered to me, leading the horse out by the reins on its nose until we stood outside the barn doors.

“I can't believe you agreed to let me do this.” I admit to my older sister, sometimes thinking she would rat me out yet she had done nothing of the sort yet.

She blew a raspberry at me teasingly. “Should have more trust in me and besides daddy and mommy will be happy if this horse has been broken in by sunrise.”

“We can only hope. Did you tell Lee and Kayce about this?”

She snorted a laugh. “You think Kayce is gonna back out of anything when you're involved. Plus Lee surprisingly enjoys fun now and then.”

We began walking back towards one of the empty fields since we figured it was best they didn't hear what we were doing at midnight. Alana held onto the horse reins hearing rusdiling coming from the trees. I squinted my eyes trying to see into the darkness until a waving flashlight came into view. “Turn the flashlight off, Lee or we'll get caught for sure.” I heard Kayce say as the two brothers came out of the treeline and climbed over ome of our property fences.

“Sorry you know daddy had some raccoon traps laid out. Don't want to lose a foot in one of those.” Lee admitted to his youngest brother.

I finally chimed in tired of waiting on their chit chat. “Hey ladies, are you done so we can ride a wild horse?”

“Yeah let's go!” Kayce cheers, throwing his fists in the air.

Lee nudged him with his elbow. “Ladies first remember.”

“Okay, how about this. Me and Lee ride separately since we're old enough to. Then Lissa, you and Kayce ride together to make up the weight of being one person. We'll see who can stay on the longest before getting bucked off like if we were ridin’ a bull.” My sister explained and we all nodded our heads in agreement, backing away when she began climbing up on the horses saddle. She tool hold of the reins kicking him in the belly before he started throwing her around but she managed to stay on for about 20 minutes. The horse launched her off and I saw land on her back before Lee ran as fast as he could grabbing the reins so the horse halted.

Lee offered my sister his hand helping her up from the dirt. “Here, take my hand.” She placed her hands in his and he tugged her up to stand and she held the reins so he could climb on the horse.

“I’ll show you how we Dutton’s ride a wild horse.” Lee kicked it in the belly before the animal began kicking its legs back and forth doing everything it could to throw him off. Yet he was determined to stay on longer than my sister. It was a few seconds longer than hers before he managed to let go and jump off landing on his feet. “That’s how Dutton’s ride!”

Kayce looped my arm through his and we smirked at our siblings. I climbed up on the horse first and he got on behind me holding the reins with my hands underneath his own. “Let’s go! - Oh yeah - shit Kace.” Once kicking it in the belly the horse ran around in some circles bouncing me and Kayce up into the air but we didn’t dare let go of the reins.

Shifting my gaze up over the horse's mane I saw that he was charging his way straight for my parents fence. “Jump - you’ve gotta jump!” Lee and my sister hollered at the top of their lungs terrified.

“One, two - three.” Kayce countered down as we got super close to the fence before he wrapped his arms around my waist and he jumped taking me with him. I released my grasp on the reins tumbling around into the dust and once it cleared watched the wild horse burst right through the fence and kept running out onto the Dutton land.

Lee and my sister ran over to check and see if we were hurt. Kayce removed his arms from around my waist, dusting off his already dusty black Cowboy hat he always wore. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen at all.” I huffed, dropping my shoulders trying to catch my breath.

“That was one of the stupidest things I think I’ve ever done.” Lee admitted causing all of us to laugh alongside him.

I scanned the broken fence feeling a nervous pit in the bottom of my stomach. “How much trouble do you think we’ll be in tomorrow morning?” I got up to stand with the other three standing around me seeing the same thing I did.

“Royalty fucked.” Kayce uttered and I wished I could have laughed that off the next morning our parents found out what happened.

After I had put Faith to bed for the night I creeped down the stairs attempting to not wake anyone else up that was sleeping in the main house. Making my way over I laid down on the living room couch, closing my eyes to rest after a long day of work until I heard the front door creak open. “Who the hell is visiting this late at night?”

“Go up to the bedroom at the end of the hall on the left.” I heard Kaycee’s voice enter the large house but I saw Tate come inside before I saw him come in with a small duffel bag that he sat down by the front door, shutting it closed.

I waited until the young kid had made his way upstairs before I said a word to my husband crossing my arms over my chest wondering where he was for most of the day. “What is he doing here, Kayce? Is Monica with him too?”

“Monica’s - um.” He trailed off, not finishing the sentence.

I took a few steps toward the cowboy needing an answer even though I probably wasn’t going to like the answer. “Kayce, why is he here?”

“Monica got injured at the school she works at and she’s in the hospital.” He replied.

Covering my mouth with a hand I gasped feeling sorry for the young kid now. “Oh gosh, is she going to be okay?”

“I don’t know. She’s got a head injury and I couldn’t leave him in the hospital with her like that even though he didn’t want to leave her.” He shrugged his shoulders, removing his hat from his head.

I closed the gap between us wrapping my arms around his body and he wrapped his arms around me. He buried his face into my shoulder crying for a few minutes while I whispered into his hair. “It’s gonna be okay. She’ll be okay - Tate can stay until she gets better.” He mumbled a thank you and I sighed just holding him until he got better. Even when Monica and I had disagreements with each other I’d look out for her son as if he was my own.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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steviewashere · 7 days ago

Text

She Lives in My Dream State

Rating: General Pairings: Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Platonic Stancy, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson CWs: Mild Recreational Marijuana Use (More Implied/Referenced) Tags: Post-Canon, Vague Timeline, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Pining, Pre-Relationship, One-Sided Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Good Friend Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Vague Bisexual Awakening, Bisexual Steve Harrington (If you Squint), (He Hasn't Figured Out All His Feelings Yet for Eddie), Eventual Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Bittersweet, Hopeful Ending, Talking About Dreams This isn't my New Years fic, but I whipped this one out really fast tonight (because I'm pining over somebody I can't have, all that good stuff), so. I promise I've got a couple works that are coming out hopefully by the end of the week! I've just been very ill—woohoo!!! Title taken from Tyler, the Creator's "See You Again", the actual lyric is, "You live in my dream state."

🫂—————🫂 Steve and Nancy become close friends. Closer than most. Maybe not closer than he and Robin, but close enough. They're enough together. And Steve just has to take that.

He reasons that they'd be better friends or maybe even best friends had circumstances not have been. If Nancy was never his girlfriend and the Upside Down never happened and he was never bullshit. But. Well, you can only get so much out of people. And this is what he gets. An ex-girlfriend that still laughs at his jokes, but doesn't touch him the way it matters. An ex-girlfriend who's a friend, nothing more.

She moved to Boston, following her dreams like she always said she would. He believes in her, so he knew, of course, that she'd get to where she needed to be. Steve shouldn't miss her, not as much as he does, but he does. That's the problem. He'll get phone calls from her, excited and bright and short, she's got a column in the local newspaper, her dorm-mates are considerate, there's a library within walking distance. He's so fucking happy and proud.

But also...

"I think I'm still in love with her," he confesses one night. It's late, too late to be talking. There's a burning sweep of ash in his throat, a joint nearly roached between his fingers, and some movie playing in front of him. The television is quiet, buzzing and fizzing.

"Yeah?"

Oh. And Eddie's here, too. Replacing one friend for another. Not that Nancy did stuff like this, sitting around with him, smoking and shooting shit. No, she was more the kind of girl who enjoyed binging some rom-com from the discount bin at Family Video, sipping hot gos as Steve put it out into the world. She liked wine nights—it was the only stereotype she allowed herself to have.

He swallows around smoke. The joint begins to hurt, so he leans forward towards Eddie's coffee table, putting it out in an already full ashtray. They should really break this habit. Do something else. Find another thing to entertain them, but the weed loosens the works. Makes it easier to be himself without trying so damn hard. Not like it matters. Eddie figures him out anyway. Perceptive bastard.

His hands hang between his knees. Head heavy on his neck, pulled forward so his shoulders hunch. The screen flashes, and so his eyes dart to figure the picture. He's never been able to paint it clearly, doesn't understand the image, can't caption the words.

"I don't know," Steve murmurs, "it's just...she calls me, y'know, tells me everything going on in her life. And I know she's broken up from Jon, working on herself—whatever that means—but I...I hear her talk about these guys and girls she's bumping into on campus. Don't think she realizes, but she's on her way to falling in love with her lab partner."

"You saying you're jealous of a person you've never met?"

"I'm not the jealous type"—

"Sorry, Steve, it sorta sounds like you are."

Sighing, relenting, Steve rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat. Nods against the back of the couch, gaze adrift to the water stains on the ceiling. "Maybe I am, then. But I'm not gonna do anything about it, swear. She's happy now. Has her whole life ahead of her. Not the kind to settle down and have a brood of children, I get that, but I guess the dream still clouds my brain."

Eddie looks to him, he can feel his burning stare. He keeps his gaze astute on the ceiling. There's something in him that melts with Eddie's molten eyes—he'd let the change happen at a moment's notice. Not now, though. And definitely not yet. "You guys are on two different worlds," Eddie states softly, "she isn't yours to keep. And I'm sure she doesn't want to be kept, not now at least." He bumps his hand on Steve's thigh, the contact burns, but Steve doesn't shy from it. Instead, he lolls his head and looks over.

One day, his brain won't be set on Nancy.

Maybe it'll be somebody else.

"I don't how you're supposed to do it," Eddie continues, "but you have to move on, Steve. Be her friend, but don't let the thought of her eat away at you."

He swallows, a sour lump heavy in his throat. "I know," he mutters. His eyes are heavy, wet when he blinks them. But Eddie doesn't acknowledge that, doesn't make fun of him. It's nice. Steve sighs. "I just think I'm gonna love her forever and there's nothing I can do about it."

"I know, Steve," Eddie whispers, matching the tenderness, "but one day, things will be different. I swear, Stevie, they will."

"Yeah"—he nods once, quickly. Lets out another soft breath—"did you know that Nance and I met on her first day of freshman year?"

"Mm, no I didn't. Tell me about it?"

At least Eddie won't shut him down on this. Not like other people have.

"She had these big, square glasses on," Steve reminisces, "her hair tied up in this ponytail, stray hairs all around her face. We were at this club fair. I was looking into the student council and she was at the booth beside me, the business club's. And all I could think was, there's no way she's interested in that, must be her dad talking."—he snorts—"when I went over to ask her about it, she did one of those big, nasty sighs. All...jaded or whatever. She told me her dad was full of shit. Honestly thought she was gonna be some prissy, pretty mouthed girl who's well-mannered—that kind of garbage—but she wasn't. She was honest.

"I knew, right then and there, that I was gonna find a way to woo her. Maybe it was just...maybe I was being a bit too out there for a fifteen year old, but I honest to god thought she was the one for me. My soulmate. But then...well, y'know the story of us. Not meant to be." Steve sighs, wistful and forlorn. The image of fourteen year old Nancy Wheeler, her too big glasses and her smile full of braces, gone in an instant. He continues, "That dream I had where she was my wife, we had that whole crowd of kids, sometimes I think that was my dad talking. The ideal family mumbo-jumbo. But I think, if her and I were different people—if she wasn't afraid of becoming her mom and I wasn't afraid of becoming my dad—maybe that whole thing could'a worked out. But...Nancy's too brilliant for that. Too brilliant for nuclear bullshit. And I'm sorta...sorta behind, y'know. Late bloomer on what I want."

Eddie blinks at him. His wonderfully dark eyes pulling Steve back to himself. The hand has returned to sit against his thigh, heavy and warm and sure. Grounding. "What do you want, Steve?"

He blows out a sharp breath. "Loaded question," Steve says, "I want to get out of Hawkins, I know that much. Find somewhere to be. To be what, I'm not sure, but something more than just...just world's best babysitter who knows when to have a car at the right moment and also the inventory system for movies I've never fucking seen."

The smile that compliments that statement is only born from Eddie's warm laughter. He wants to nurture that smile, the way his cheeks stretch with it. It's the warmest thing he's felt in a long while.

"What about you, Eds, what do you want?"

"Honestly, I don't fucking know," Eddie answers in turn. "I wanted to be a world famous rockstar. But every time I put my fingers on the frets, I think about Metallica and world ending doom, so...guess that's sorta out of the cards. Oh, maybe I could write shit! I could...I could take the whole world ending bullshit and turn it into some sci-fi novel. Call it...The Underworld or something."

"The Underworld or Something sounds like a mouthful," Steve teases.

"Right...The Underworld. Title in progress. Hell, you know, maybe you could be my editor?"

"I'm not a strong enough reader for that, Eds." Eddie chuckles and nods, conceding. Steve just relishes in the tired sound of his laughter. "Got any other gigs you think I could do?"

"Book binding," Eddie says easily, "it's methodical. Takes some energy to focus on the craft, but you work a lot with your hands and tools. Something quiet, so you aren't dealing with angry moms and their crying children. But something just bland enough that you're not overexerting your efforts. Could put your brain on hobbies you wanted to work. Book binding and playing basketball in your free time sounds like the dream for you, Steve."

"Yeah? You've been thinking about this for a while? 'Cause, gotta give it to you, if that's improvised, you're a fucking genius."

"Ah, thank you, thank you...you flatter me, sweetheart. In another life, I take the world by storm with my on stage presence."

"Why not in this one?"

"Hollywood's too convoluted," Eddie says, "they'd probably do some evil shit like put me on an unethical diet and call it the beauty world's next hot tip or something. Or, y'know, they'd put me in a Speedo catalog. Don't think I could do that, ruins the integrity of my image."

Steve snorts again and swipes his tongue inside his lower lip. "Hm," he assesses, eyes squinted at Eddie's shorts-clad legs, "you've got good enough legs for it, though. Put you in some zebra print tighties and call it couture."

"Again, Steve, you flatter me." Eddie hits his thigh again, drawing his attention back. "Seriously, though," he says, voice dropped low, "one day you'll have things figured out enough. Maybe you'll still love her, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll be binding books or working a cash register. But, someday, you'll be the Steve Harrington you need yourself to be. Not today, and that's okay."

"Yeah," he sighs, "not today."

He thinks of Nancy, happy in Boston. Jonathan happy in Lenora. Robin in Seattle. All of them, sans Eddie and himself, separated and happy.

It's bittersweet, to love somebody he can't have. It always will be. He knows, despite himself, that he's going to love her until the day he dies. And she won't know that, and that has to be okay. They missed the chance—he missed the chance. Things are for the better, though.

He has a new friend in Eddie. He's got a load of feelings to stifle through. And he's got a lot to look forward to in the coming years of his very formative twenties. But for now, this is it: wallowing on Eddie's couch, tossing jokes at one another, smoke coating his throat.

It's not the best, but it could certainly be a lot worse. Things are reasonable and he's alive and some stuff is amiss, but things will work out.

Especially since he's got a new person on his side.

🫂—————🫂

#stranger things #past stancy #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #I love analyzing Steve and Nancy's relationship #I love viewing Steve under a microscope

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stevesworld96 · 1 year ago

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look at me now (part one)

--- steve harrington x fem!reader

childhood friends to strangers to lovers. this is a more realistic look at developing a relationship with steve, set in canon while you know nothing about the monsters, or the nightmares, or all of his scars.

a fic about knowing steve before, during, and after the events of the upside down. including all the ways your friendship with him grows, wilts, then grows again - to blossom into something he probably doesn’t deserve.

tags: fem reader, no use of y/n, childhood friends, typical king steve meanness, yes there is an allusion to steve being icarus, kissing, fighting and making up, cliches, a lot of emotions, depression and suffering etc, reader has an aunt, mentions of death and injuries, codependent steve and robin, steve is so so so so so so so sad. hawkins doesn't get destroyed after the vecna fight - everything else follows canon

please read both parts, i worked so hard on this fic and i'm really proud of it :)

part two!!!

word count: 14878

You knew Steve Harrington better than you knew anybody. At least, you liked to think so.

You were five when you moved to Hawkins into the house right next door to Steve’s, and as things go when you’re a kid, that automatically made you best friends. At that age you didn’t have to try to be friends with somebody - as long as they lived nearby and had a bike, that sealed the deal.

He was only knee high to his mother, hiding behind her legs when she brought him over to introduce themselves. “We’re the Harrington's,” she said, then with a tight laugh, “minus one - my husband. This is our son. Steve - say hi, Stevie.”

He didn’t. Your mothers started a polite conversation and your eyes darted between the tall woman and her son. She was dressed like she had somewhere important to be, with red lipstick painted on her lips and pearls hung around her neck. She was pretty.

Her son didn’t stand with the same pride she had - he was peeking at you, tugging the hem of his mother’s dress and looking down at his feet. You could hardly get a good look at him, and he didn’t even wave back at you. His haircut was prim and proper; the button up shirt he wore was swallowing him.

They came inside for lemonade, and you led Steve into your living room, and by the end of the hour you had instantly become friends, bonding over your toy car collection that Steve loved.

You were kids - of course things were so easy.

To see him, all you had to do was walk over to his front door and knock, and you could spend as much time together as you wanted. Or just wait until his parents needed a babysitter - after they learned how much you and Steve loved spending time together, they started to drop him off at your house and you’d have sleepovers for days.

It was when Mr. Harrington had gotten a big promotion that they’d leave Steve with your family nearly once a week.

“I’m sorry, Stevie, I know me and Dad haven’t been home much lately. But next month isn’t as busy for us,” his mom would tell him.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he’d reply. “Don’t worry, I like staying here, so I’m alright.”

At your age you didn’t see the irony in a seven year old telling his mother that things were okay - shouldn’t it be the other way around? - but those apologies from his mother wouldn’t last very long. And the promises she always made were never kept. Soon enough, she stopped making them altogether.

Sometimes he’d just show up at your door, and your parents didn’t have to ask questions because they already knew more than you did, and you didn’t understand that he was more comfortable in your bedroom than in his own.

The routine of your friendship felt like the foundation of your life. Everything you did was with Steve by your side, like you were tied together with an invisible string that couldn’t be broken. Snacks after school were a must; movie nights every other weekend were your safe haven. The last day of school every year you camped out in his backyard under the stars and then woke up early for a big breakfast and a day spent at the arcade. Even as you got older, those things stayed the same.

You had busier schedules to work around in high school but you still made it work. After-school lunch turned into midnight snacks, and you moved from the arcade to the lake, but you were still intertwined with child-like joy and ease.

Steve’s other friends were another story. Tommy H was a thorn in your side that you couldn’t pick out, but Steve didn’t get why you hated him so much. At first, you didn’t get it either - you just did.

Until one day early in your junior year, Tommy H gave you a good enough reason for your disposition.

Like always, Steve was waiting for you outside of your last class of the day, and you were just about to turn the corner when you heard Tommy’s loud, boisterous, annoying voice.

“Steve, my boy, what’cha standing around here for?”

Steve laughed, even though Tommy had said nothing funny.

“Waiting on your favorite girl so I can get outta here - what’s up, dude?”

“Come on,” Tommy said, dragging the words out. “We got shit to do, ditch her and let’s get a roll on, if you catch my drift.”

You could see his stupid face in your head as he spoke - you just wanted him to go away so you could leave. But you’d wait there forever if it meant you didn’t have to have a conversation with him.

You were hardly paying any mind to their words.

“Can’t, dude, I’m her ride home. Tomorrow though, for sure.”

“She’s holding you back, man.”

But that caught your attention. They were both laughing even though, again, no one had said anything funny.

“Y’think so?”

“She even put out?”

Your eyes rolled so far back to your head they could’ve gotten stuck.

“It’s not like that with her.”

“Oh, that’s not what Kimmy thinks.”

“What? What do you mean - did she say something?”

You knew Kimmy to be the new flavor of the week, Steve’s new eye candy. It’d be someone new in a matter of days - and this was one brand new trait of his you were struggling to overlook.

“Just saying, most of the chicks think you’re taken by Miss Bitch -”

You call Tommy H a dickhead to his face one time and he gives you a nickname that sticks for three years.

“- and that’s why you’re not getting any action, dude. Gotta shake off the fleas, man.”

And then Steve laughed. Loud.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to do. You hoped he would defend you even a little bit, but he didn’t. He just laughed, and said, “I’ll think about it, man,” as if he was in on this joke, and then Tommy left.

And you didn’t know how you felt.

It’s not like Steve said it. But he had no problem listening to Tommy H talk about you that way. He thought it was funny.

Or, he was just saving face - did that make a difference?

You knew Tommy’s words were complete bullshit, and you didn’t care about him enough to let it affect you. Maybe Steve felt the same - maybe he just went along with it because it was easier.

You hoped so, because that’s what you chose to do. You brushed it off and walked out of the room and acted as if nothing happened.

“Hey - about time.”

You didn’t reply; he continued talking as you walked together.

“You hungry?”

“Thought you were coming over,” you said. “Told you I wanted to build a blanket fort. Remember?”

He huffed out a scoff, “A blanket fort? Are you six?” The glare you gave him made him reel his judgment back in. “Fine. Let’s go.”

…

As soon as basketball season was over and you had your weekends back to yourself, you were ready to get through your watch list of movies as quickly as possible. You’d never tell Steve that cheering for him at his games was your least favorite part of your friendship with him - you would always keep that selfishness to yourself.

And if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own mind, lost in planning your movie night, you may have been able to see your next conversation with Steve coming.

“There she is, been lookin’ all over for you.”

A heavy arm slung around your shoulders as you walked down the school hall. You didn’t have to question who it was.

“What do you want, Steve?”

“Just want to see my best friend in the whole world, is there something wrong with that?”

You rolled your eyes. Obviously he’s up to something.

“I’m going to choose to ignore you,” you said, shaking off his arm and stopping at your locker. His back fell into the metal next to you.

“What’s up?” he asked, and he was trying too hard to be inconspicuous, but you ignored it.

“Nothing. Oh, I think I finally have a cookie recipe we’ll like. Mrs. Jenkins gave it to me but she made me swear I wouldn’t share her secrets. Gonna pick up the stuff after school - have you picked your movie yet?”

Then his eyes widened, a bit too much to look genuine. “Oh, shit, is that tonight?”

“It’s Friday, isn’t it?”

“I completely forgot about that, shit. I made other plans without thinking.”

“Well, cancel them,” you said with a straight face.

“Well… what if you join in on my plans instead?”

You closed your locker and didn’t even consider entertaining Steve’s idea. “My mom’s already planning to make dinner for you. Are you ready to face her wrath?”

“Well - no,” he said. “It’s just - y’know, I was supposed to see Nancy tonight, and…”

“Oh, I get it, you wanna cancel so you can get laid. Is that it?”

“No, Christ - I’ll be there, alright? But next time, I’m getting my way.”

You laughed at him, and the bell rang and ended your conversation.

You didn’t think the night would go any differently than your normal hangouts. Maybe if you were expecting it, the disappointment wouldn’t have stung so bad.

He called you early.

“Hello?”

“Hey -”

“Hey, have you picked up the movies yet? I forgot to get popcorn, so…”

“No, I haven’t. Listen, um…” There was static on the line for a moment before he continued. “Sorry, but - can we - are you sure we can’t reschedule? Like, tomorrow night?”

You groaned, you were annoyed. But even when he argued with you, Steve never ditched your valued traditions - he may act bothered sometimes, but he would always come around. Even if he did gripe about it being childish the entire time.

That’s what you thought this would be.

“No, Steve, I have book club and tutoring and dinner with my aunt tomorrow. You know this.”

“Right. I guess I forgot about that. Okay, well…”

“...Well?”

Once again, he was quiet, and you weren’t sure if he was hesitating because he didn’t know what to say, or because he was nervous.

“Well - I think it’d be really fun if we hung out at my place tonight!”

“I guess I can bring all the ingredients for the cookies over. You do have a nicer oven…” you said.

“No, like, you can come over with everyone else I invited and we could -”

“I thought you canceled that?”

“I was going to, but… Tommy wouldn’t take no for an answer! And we already got the booze, and Nance finally said yes and - and I’d be really happy if you were here too!”

“...Okay.”

“Okay…?”

You thought for a moment, then decided to ask him the question you were asking yourself.

“Would you be happy if I was there, or would you be happy if I’m not mad at you for canceling?”

“Uh - either one.”

“Right.”

That answer was good enough for you, even though it wasn’t the one you wanted. You weren’t getting anything you wanted that night, and you weren’t going to fight for it with someone who already had their mind made up.

“Then have fun,” you said.

“Really? We can cancel?”

The excitement in his voice caused an angry laugh. “Yeah. Bye.” And you hung up.

And you made your cookies, and you watched the movies you already had on tape, and you didn’t miss the popcorn but you wished you had Steve’s lap to put your feet on - and it was fine.

You were sure he was having fun. And maybe he didn’t care at all about your canceled plans - because he was too busy with people who didn’t like you, doing something more exciting than what the two of you did as kids.

It was selfish to be angry. Maybe it was wrong. But you let it boil over anyway.

…

You didn’t talk to him for a week after that. Because you didn’t want to, and you wanted to teach him a lesson, and you hoped it would make him sorry.

Maybe you were being immature, but at this point, you were committed.

You were afraid that you were setting the wrong example - that, maybe, he thought you were angry about him making his own plans, when the problem was how he’d canceled yours so last minute. Or perhaps it was both. But now you had dragged it out too long and you were stuck giving Steve the cold shoulder until he finally caved in and apologized.

That’s all you wanted, really: an apology. And a bribe or two, just to get the most out of this argument. That’s how things usually went: you give him the silent treatment and he shows up at your door with your favorite snacks and a new book, and things would go back to normal.

But not this time.

You’d managed to bike to school without being caught by Steve all week, but you’d underestimated him waiting for you at the bike racks at the end of the day on Thursday.

He stood with his arms crossed and his brows drawn together. The moment you saw him you stopped in your tracks, like if you stayed still he wouldn’t see you, but his gaze was locked on. It didn’t look kind.

So you prepared yourself for this fight.

“What are you doing?” he asked, but his tone said something different - it said, I’m sick of your shit.

“What are you doing?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Just wondering how long you’re going to keep dragging this out.”

You kept darting around his words and moved to get your bike as if he’d let you leave so easily. “I’m not dragging anything out. Don’t know what you mean.”

His arms flung out to his sides as his voice raised, “You’re acting like a fucking kid!”

And your volume matched his, “You hurt my feelings!”

“Well - grow up!”

The short silence that followed felt heavy, but he didn’t let it sit for long.

“I mean - come on - I ditch you one time and all of a sudden we’re not friends anymore? Really?”

“A sorry would be nice, Steve.”

“I’ve said sorry.” Both of you knew that he hadn’t, but it didn’t matter now. “But sorry isn’t enough, is it? You’re just mad that I have new friends. Because I don’t want to just - sit around and fucking - watch movies in your living room like we’re kids -”

“Like we’re kids,” you said, laughing. “Yeah - right, because that’s really what this is about, isn’t it, Steve?”

He looked confused, and you didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“Because I’m holding you back. Right? Tommy H said it so it must be true. I’m a bitch and I’m keeping you down and you need to shake me off if you ever want to get any action - that’s what it is. Just say it, Steve.”

“Where is this coming from?” He ran a hand through his hair and his voice sounded desperate, but you weren’t sure what for. Maybe to salvage the remnants of a wounded friendship, to turn this conversation around. But your anger wouldn’t let him.

“You know where it’s coming from. I heard it, Steve, and you - you agreed with him! I’m your best friend but you can’t even defend me to your shitty fucking friends - so just say it! You’re the one who doesn’t want me around -”

“That’s not what happened -”

You were so angry, and he was lying, and Steve never lied to you, and he’d filled you with so much venom that you couldn’t help spitting it out as you stepped closer to him. “It is. And you’re turning it on me when you’re the shitty friend. Stop lying to me and just say it.”

“Yeah, maybe that is what it is - and I was just too fucking stupid to see it before now. That you’re so fucking clingy I can’t even have one night with a girl without you getting jealous. He was right. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yeah, it was,” and you pulled your bike free and your foot hit the kickstand so hard that it hurt, and you told yourself the pain was the reason tears were flooding your eyes.

“Maybe I’m better off without you - have you ever thought about that? Is that your fucking problem?”

“Whatever! I don’t care anymore! You never have to watch another fucking movie with me again, alright? We won’t go to the arcade or build stupid fucking blanket forts or any of the other childish shit you hate so much!”

“Good - fucking - good!”

“And I hope you have fun playing King, and I hope when all your friends turn on you and Nancy dumps your ass - because you’re an asshole - that I’m the last person you run to for help, and I hope your dad is real fucking proud of you, because you’re turning out to be just fucking like him.”

It all fell out like you were pushing rocks off of a cliff - fast and angry and hard. You knew what those words would do to him. You knew you were hurting his feelings more than he had ever hurt yours - that you were putting the knife in too deep to pull out. You knew and you said it anyway, because you were mad and he was being a dick and lashing out felt good. Especially when you could hop on your bike and ride away from him, fast enough to avoid watching the blood pooling at his feet.

The worst part is that you were being honest.

Steve stood there alone and didn’t even turn to watch you ride away. He felt like hitting something, or screaming until his lungs were empty and tired.

And he didn’t even have time for any of this. He was finally making decisions for himself, for once, and who were you to get mad at him for that? He was popular, he had a girlfriend who was actually into him, his parents had finally gotten off his back. Things were going fantastic for him and he wasn’t going to let you mess it up because you were… jealous, or selfish, or whatever it was - Steve didn’t care.

He wasn’t going to lose sleep over you refusing to grow up and give him space. He was on top of the world, and you were trying to tear him down.

He didn’t need you, anyway.

…

Months passed.

And, like you had put a hex on him, all of your words came true - and then some. It didn’t take very long for things to crumble around him, and Steve almost thought it was funny how quickly his wings had melted to send him hurling into the ground.

No matter how hard he tried patching the holes, everyone knows you can’t fly with wings made of wax.

The fall hurt. But it was what came after that brought the real pain - a stinging, striking ache that was impossible to ignore. It felt like he was the last person on earth and he deserved it; like he shouldn’t be allowed to be around other people because he was no good.

And every time he tried putting the pieces back together, things only got more broken - all starting at Jonathan Byers’ front door.

What could get worse than fighting a monster from an alternate dimension?

Or fucking things up with your girlfriend beyond repair?

Or fighting those monsters again?

He learned quickly to stop asking stupid questions like those.

And he learned that he couldn’t just close his eyes and wish it away. He couldn’t run when things got scary; he couldn’t lash out when someone was honest with him; he couldn’t sneak out of his window and into yours when the yelling got too loud. He was forced to face everything he ever hid from, cursed to have regrets and keep them.

At least he wasn’t completely alone - the company of nerdy kid genius Dustin Henderson brought most of these lessons on. And in a normal situation Steve wouldn’t recommend learning anything from a kid in junior high, but he was living anything but a normal life. He’d take friends wherever he could get them, especially during senior year.

Maybe he wanted to set a good example for the kids that suddenly came into his life. Maybe he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t his father - that he could do good things without getting something out of it. Or maybe, most likely, he just did it.

He wanted to feel like a superhero, wanted to look in the mirror and feel proud of what stared back at him. But he didn’t, because he wasn’t. He wasn’t brave or heroic or gallant - he was no Clark Kent. And everything he did was because he had to. Because who else would?

Sometimes he felt like only someone as careless as him would fight a man-eating creature with nothing but a baseball bat - because out of everyone he knew, he had the least to lose. Why bother making safe decisions when most days he didn’t even want to get out of bed? What was he risking when he’d already bet it all and lost?

And who would be proud of that?

But there were moments, in the time between the fall and the fight, that he could almost see it. Like a flicker of light passing by he’d see Max smiling at him, hear Dustin’s excited laughter, feel a heavy high five from Lucas and he’d think - oh. Right there, standing in front of him, were the people he had to lose. The ones he was trying to win for.

And then he’d lay in bed at night and get stuck in another sleepless round of self loathing; hatred fueled by every cruel word he’d spit and all the selfish acts he’d taken, and fuck, he was spinning and suffocating and screaming, and maybe he deserved this.

It didn’t matter that he knew how to swing a fucking bat good enough to win more time for the ones he loved, because he wouldn’t love them right, anyway. And he’d turned the best person he’d ever known into nothing more than a crumpled piece of paper on his floor - something to be tossed aside and forgotten. And even if he tried smoothing it out, those creases would always be there.

Sometimes he stared out his window and watched yours. Waited for your light to turn off so he could look away and stop wondering what you were doing and how your life was without him in it.

All he wanted was to see you again. He’d beg for that movie night he ditched on junior year. He wanted to grab you by your shoulders and show you that he’s better now, he’s changed, those last words you told him weren’t applicable anymore and everything can just go back to how it was.

But nothing was ever that easy, was it?

He was glad when graduation finally came around, until he was forced into a sailor’s uniform with an ice cream scoop on his belt like a gun in a holster.

It was one way to spend the summer. It got him out of the house he hated staying in, and put a little money in his pocket, so slinging ice cream at Scoop’s Ahoy was good enough for him.

It distracted him from the vague nightmares he kept having and the fact that he got into a total of zero universities, and the free ice cream counted as dinner on his bad days. And he was fine with his obnoxious co-worker and annoying customers.

He was just fine.

But it was Hawkins. Nothing could stay fine there - not after a little girl with super powers opened a portal to an alternate fucking dimension and turned the town into a magnet for every fucked up thing imaginable.

Steve thought it was over, and then Dustin had him and Robin translating the Russian words he heard over his radio, and they were all pulled back in.

He wasn’t expecting to fall into the Russian lair under Starcourt Mall, to trauma bond with Robin - of all people - or to get any closer to dying than he already had, but he stopped betting on his expectations a long time ago.

By the time he saw the night sky again, he couldn’t remember how many punches he’d been thrown.

His head throbbed to the beat of his heart. It felt like if he tapped his temple, his eye would pop right out. His work uniform was ruined, stained with blood and spit, but the smoke billowing from Starcourt ensured that he wouldn't be needing it anymore.

The events of the night felt like they were years away. All he remembered was running, screaming, crying; he remembered the fist coming toward his face but not the impact. He woke up to pain, and then it was gone - more running and bleeding and fighting and then, it was over.

Robin sat next to him, shivering, on the back of an ambulance. The lights from the siren were blinding, the noise around him was punching his ear drums.

“Are we alive?” Robin asked. Her voice was totally shot.

“Think so.”

“I want to lay down so bad.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Do you have someone to call?”

She sighed deep. “Not really.” She let it be quiet for only a second, then said, “I don’t really want to go home. To be honest.”

“You wanna spend the night here?”

“If I don’t have to be alone, then, yeah.”

He sighed, too, then patted her knee.

He said, “I’ll call someone, alright?” and she nodded.

The payphone was a bit of a walk, and he had to wait behind two people in line, but it was enough time for him to muster up the courage to make the call. Even still, when he had the phone in his hand, all he could do was stare at it.

He was trying to remember the exact words you said to him the last time he spoke to you. Something like, “I hope I’m the last one you call,” he was sure. It was hard to remember your phrasing now, but the memory still stung all the same.

And he knows it’s not fair to call you, but he was going to anyway. Because in all honesty, you were the only option he had.

Any other time, he’d rely on Hopper for a ride. But Hopper wasn’t around anymore.

So he dialed your number and prayed you hadn’t changed it from the one he knew by heart.

Your hand darted out of your blanket to reach your bedside telephone. The ringing killed your half asleep ears, and you hardly knew what you were doing when you put the receiver to your ear.

“Hello?”

You could barely get the word out; your voice was thick with sleep that was slowly creeping over you.

“Hey. It’s Steve.”

With your heavy eyes shut, sleep was pulling you back in. Your whole body jumped a little bit when you attempted to stay awake.

“Steve?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry for waking you up, but -”

You didn’t know what was going on, and then you heard sirens on the phone. A jolt of anxiety seared through you at the sound. That’s what got you to wake up - then you realized who you were talking to.

“Steve?”

“...Yeah.”

“What - what’s wrong?”

Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you sat up in bed, holding yourself up with one shaky arm.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you held your breath until he answered your question. “There was an, uh - accident at Starcourt, and - I don’t know who else to call. I’m sorry, I can’t drive right now and I don’t have anybody else.”

“Are you okay?”

“Barely.”

You didn’t give your answer a second thought. “I’ll be there in, like, five minutes, okay?”

You could hear his breath of relief over the phone. “Okay. Thank you.”

After stealing your mother’s car keys, you stuffed your bare feet into combat boots and ran to the car. Even though you still only had your learners permit, you absolutely floored it to the mall without a single thought in your mind. It was like you were on autopilot, simply doing what you were supposed to, because you were scared.

You saw plumes of smoke before Starcourt ever came into view, and you swallowed through your dry throat because you knew something bad happened.

You had to fight through crowds and cops before you were allowed to pass under the police tape to search for Steve, which wasn’t easy. Every face you saw wasn’t his and each second that passed dug a deeper pit in your stomach.

The second-to-last ambulance in the lineup is where you found him, sitting next to a girl whose head was on his shoulder.

And when you saw him… it wasn’t him. Your eyes glazed over him because he was hardly recognizable.

You’d seen him beat up before. He’s had his fair share of fights at school; you wiped blood off his face and helped him nurse black eyes. But it was never like this.

His left eye was swollen shut. Crimson stained from his eyebrow to his jawline. His skin was aggravated red, his clothes were blood rusted, his knuckles were ripped open.

And still, somehow, his hair looked perfectly done. That sight alone made you want to laugh and cry at the same time, because of course he managed to keep its style untouched. It was so Steve.

You ran to him; your legs carried you there on their own, shoelaces smacking against wet pavement. You weren’t thinking when you called out his name or when you flung your arms around his neck. You hugged him like it would heal him, like the scent of your perfume could cover the smoke he smelled of.

It’d been almost a year since you’d talked to him, and the jagged edges of your ended friendship still cut deep, but you didn’t care. Not when he looked the way he did; not when he was hugging you so tight; not when your tears were dripping onto his skin.

You pulled back and looked at him, and his wounds didn’t look any better up close.

“Oh my god, Steve, are you okay? What the hell happened?”

“I’m alright,” he said. He wouldn’t look at you, or couldn’t bring himself to. “I’m just glad you came. I’m sorry -”

“Don’t,” you said, and then you looked around at the scene. “Have the paramedics even seen you? Why are you just sitting here?��

“Yeah. Yeah, I - I’m fine. They said I’m fine. They’re all busy with others but - I’m fine, don’t worry.”

That’s when you noticed the girl next to him, who was looking at you like you were crazy, and you realized what you were potentially barging in on.

They sat close - too close to be friendly. They were basically cuddling when you first saw them. It was obvious what they were, so of course she was looking at you that way.

You didn’t mean to make her jealous, but a part of you didn’t care.

“Are both of you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, answering for the two of them. The girl nodded. “This is Robin, by the way.”

You introduced yourself to her, trying to be cordial even though you were meeting in the worst of situations.

“You two can stay at my place tonight, if you want to,” you told them. Steve asked Robin if she was okay with that, and she said yes, and so you led them to your car.

You weren’t sure why you made the offer to Steve - you wanted him with you, sure. After seeing the condition he was in, you wouldn’t sleep unless you knew you were keeping him safe and sound in your own bedroom.

Old habits die hard.

But, all things considered, you should have just taken him to his own home, where he could be with Robin in peace. Without cut ties lingering in the air like flies.

You drove him home anyway.

Nobody spoke until you got to your bedroom.

“Do you need a shower?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. Robin nodded.

“Okay. Robin, you can take my bathroom. Steve can shower downstairs.”

You dug through bottom drawers to find clothes for each of them - you still had the ones Steve kept stored there, as embarrassing as it was, so it wasn’t a difficult task. And you’d let Robin choose from your pajama drawer.

And then you got back into bed, because you didn’t know what else to do for them.

Robin stood in the doorway of your bathroom, just staring into the room. When Steve opened your bedroom door, she snapped her head back to him.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

She glanced over at you. You wanted to hide from the tension in the room.

“I - I don’t know how to use this faucet.”

He showed her how, and then made for the exit, but she called for him again.

“I was just thinking - you know - if we both shower at the same time, won’t the water pressure be super low? And what if the hot water runs out before I’m done, and -”

“I’ll be quick, Robs,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

Steve took one step into the hallway before stopping. The darkness looked like it went on forever. He didn’t remember your house being so unlit, or having so many hiding places, and suddenly his legs were shaky.

“...You’re probably right, though. I’ll just wait out here until you’re done.”

“Yeah. And I’ll keep the door cracked open, for… all the steam.”

“That’s a good idea.”

And he sat on the floor right outside of the bathroom door. When Robin was finished, they swapped places. As if they couldn’t be apart for longer than twenty minutes.

You didn’t ask them any questions.

…

The two of them slept on a pallet of old blankets on your bedroom floor. Robin made Steve sleep closest to the door. He tried not to be upset about it.

And he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but it seemed to swallow him. He didn’t dream, or toss and turn, but he woke up unrested.

Everything still hurt just as bad as it did the night before. And Robin’s snoring was making his headache worse.

You were no longer in bed, so he decided to get up and find you.

He wasn’t sure what kind of interaction he’d be walking into when he found you in the kitchen, but he tried to keep his head high.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hey.” You had a mug in your hand. “Your eye looks better.”

“It doesn’t feel any better,” he said, and he wanted to make a joke that it actually looks worse - because when he closes his right eye, everything’s blurry - but he held that one in. He wasn’t ready for a comedic coping mechanism quite yet.

You put Tylenol on the island that separated the two of you. “Take them. I don’t know if it’ll help much, but it can’t hurt.”

The bottle said to take two, so he took three. And then the awkward quiet started washing in.

Until, “I saw what happened on the news,” and Steve almost coughed up the water he was chugging.

“What are they saying?” he asked, because he didn’t know what story he was supposed to be playing along with.

“Just talking about the fire,” you said. Your voice sounded so dim, and Steve hated it. “It’s… crazy. Hopper… he…” You couldn’t say the word.

“I know,” Steve said.

“And thirty others.”

His throat felt dry. “Thirty?”

Truly, he didn’t know that many people hadn’t survived. And now, it all felt real. Really real.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m just glad - you were lucky to get out, Steve.”

You had no clue how lucky he’d really been. And hopefully you would never have to know.

“I know.”

You sat your mug down, brushed your hands on your chest like you were trying to wipe off everything you knew of the accident, then blew out a loud breath.

“Let’s just think about something else.”

Almost at the same time as you, he spoke. “Thank you.”

“...What for?”

“For coming to my rescue,” he said, huffing a laugh. “I know that I… didn’t really deserve it.”

“Don’t thank me, Steve.”

“Seriously. You could’ve just told me to walk home, but you didn’t.”

“I’m just being a good friend,” you said, then shrugged. “I hope you would do it for me.”

“In a heartbeat.”

He wondered if this was his chance to say sorry.

Or if there was even a point in it.

He was afraid you’d do no more than laugh in his face, and even if he deserved it he didn’t want to succumb to it.

But he had to. Because he almost died last night. And he could be fighting those monsters again, any day now. Was he going to lose this chance? Or is he going to die without saying another word to you?

He stared down at his ripped knuckles. The wounds still looked fresh. They stung just from touching the open air.

He stared, and stared, and stared, and - he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t face it.

Your footsteps toward him made him jump back.

You were holding a box of band-aids.

You held out your hand, asking for his without words, and he offered both of them to you. First his right, then his left, were covered in pink, green, and yellow band-aids by you.

It was gentle and kind, the way you went about it. Like you would hurt him even more if you weren’t careful.

He still had dried blood under his nails and splinters in his palms. He watched your clean hands holding his beaten up ones and he felt bad, because your skin was too soft to bother with the cuts and calluses on his.

But you held them anyway.

He put his fingers through yours and you didn’t stop him. He wanted to cry.

“I’m just glad you're alright.”

He didn’t know what to say - there wasn’t anything to say, he guessed. Nothing to make it better or change anything.

All he could do was squeeze your hand and watch you wipe tears off your cheeks.

Until he noticed a cut on the back of your hand. He pulled it closer so he could get a better look.

“What happened?”

“I dropped a knife while I was cooking last night. It’s fine.”

It looked fine, but Steve wanted to repay your favor, so he pulled a band-aid from the near empty box and put it on your wound.

“We match,” he said.

You laughed. “We’re even now.”

He felt overwhelmed with melancholy. He needed to rest, he wanted to close his eyes and not open them for weeks.

“I should go check on Robin,” he said as he walked backwards toward the stairs. He kept his eyes to the ground, away from the look on your face. “She’ll flip if she wakes up and she’s alone.”

You said nothing.

…

The following days and weeks were a lot of checking on Robin, and Robin checking on him. Too much waking up in the middle of the night and keeping his eyes glued to his bedroom door just in case. Only feeling safe enough if he had a baseball bat hugged to his chest and Robin snoring next to him.

So - he wasn’t doing well, but it was fine. He tried not to complain about it. Robin was the only person he let himself be half honest with - but he kept the truth to himself, because she’d get anxious if he said what he really felt.

Steve was scared. And he didn’t want anyone else to know it, because all of the others acted as if their lives were perfectly back to normal. They were doing well. So he had to be doing well, too. For their sake.

Weeks after that awful night at the mall, he and Robin conned their way into getting jobs at Family Video. He was grateful, because god, he was too codependent on her.

It was a random night at his place when Robin brought you up out of nowhere.

“I just realized, I never thanked your neighbor for saving us that night.”

“You don’t need to. I’m sure she knows you’re thankful.”

“Yeah, but, I feel like I should pay her back.”

Steve shrugged at her words. He didn’t want to think about you more than he had to - it hurt just a little bit too much.

“Should I give her a gift?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “She likes cookies. Get her cookies.”

And Steve didn’t know it, but the next day, Robin rang your doorbell with a plastic box of cookies in her hands. You opened the door and she started rambling from the get.

“Hey - Steve said you like cookies, so, I decided I’d bring you some to thank you. For showing up at Starcourt in the middle of the night and practically saving our lives. And for letting us sleep on your floor. That was really nice of you.”

You didn’t know what to say. Robin seemed weird. You just went along with it.

“Oh - thanks. That’s cool. Thanks.”

She shoved them toward you, and you took them.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked.

Instead of answering, she just stepped through the door. You brought her to the kitchen.

“I hope they’re good. I just got them at the corner store. But all cookies are the same, right?”

“Well - no, but, it’s the thought that counts.”

“Oh.”

The gifted cookies didn’t look much better than the worst recipes you’d made, but you opened the crude packaging and gave them a chance.

They were fine. Maybe a little worse than fine. You gave Robin one, anyway.

“They’re good!” she said, with a mouth full.

“They are,” you lied. “They’re not homemade, but they’ll do. Thanks, Robin.”

You ate half of your cookie. Robin finished hers. It was quiet.

You figured you might as well try to get to know this girl a bit better. At least be polite and make small talk, just to be nice.

So you asked an easy question. “How long have you and Steve been together?”

But it wasn’t as simple as you thought, because she started coughing up the cookie. “What do you mean?”

“...What?”

“We’re not together,” she said with a heavy dose of sass. “God, I’ll never get over people asking me that. I am not dating Steve Harrington. Gross.”

“Oh - sorry, I just thought -”

“It’s fine,” she said. “Everyone always asks. I guess a guy and a girl can’t be friends without everyone making assumptions.”

You laughed. “Yeah. People used to do the same thing to us. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask a weird question.”

“It’s alright. Actually, I’m supposed to be at his place in, like - well, ten minutes ago. You should come over if you're free.”

“Uh - I don’t know, me and Steve - we don’t really hang out anymore.”

You aren’t sure why you didn’t just make up an excuse. Something about Robin made you feel okay about being honest.

“It’s cool. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. It’s kind of been just us since what happened with - the fire. The fire that happened. So - you know. It’d be nice to have someone else around. If you want.”

You were curious how this would turn out. So, “sure. I’ll come.”

“Great. You should bring a cookie for Steve.”

You brought the whole box, and decided you would accidentally forget them at his place so they wouldn’t go to waste.

Steve’s front door was yanked open from the inside before Robin could let herself in, and his wide eyes became a little less wide when he saw her.

“Where the fuck were you - you were supposed to be here half an hour ago, I thought you got fucking eaten or something.”

“Relax. I was just making a cookie delivery next door. Chill.”

Robin threw her thumb over her shoulder. You poked your head out from behind her and gave Steve a weak wave.

“Oh.”

“What exactly would she get eaten by?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. You noticed he was gripping his car keys in a tight, scarred fist.

“Monsters,” Robin joked. Steve didn’t laugh. You did a little bit. “I invited her over. Is that alright?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

You stuck to Robin all the way to his living room, because that was easier than making yourself comfortable. You hadn’t been in this house in ages, and you weren’t sure what to do with yourself.

“Where’s my crossword?”

“I finished it.”

“Asshole. You know I hate that. Just get your own.”

“Whatever, you suck at them, anyway.”

Robin, unlike you, had no reservations in the Harrington house. She kicked her feet up and started channel surfing as soon as she sat on the couch.

“Have a cookie,” Robin said to Steve. You reached the box out to him; he sat down next to you to take one, taking up the spot between you and Robin.

It was weird being so close to him again. His knee was touching yours, and it made your skin feel too hot. Still, you didn’t move away.

“These are shit,” he said with a full mouth.

“Hey!”

You laughed loud, because you completely agreed.

“No, seriously, these are awful.”

“I spent five dollars on those!”

You gasped. “Five? Robin.”

“You should have just given her the money instead. Or thrown it in the trash.” Steve dropped his half eaten cookie back in the box. You put the plastic lid back on and sat it on the coffee table.

“I thought they were good. You’re being so rude right now. They were a gift.”

Steve looked at you. “You didn’t tell her how bad they are?”

“I didn’t - I don’t think they’re that bad.”

“You’re lying,” Steve laughed, then he turned to Robin. “She’s lying.”

“I’m not lying!”

“I know you, and I know you’re lying.”

“It’s fine, guys, you don’t have to spare my feelings or anything.”

You sighed, defeated. “...They are pretty terrible.”

Robin scoffed loud and obnoxious.

“Whatever. I’ll enjoy them.”

…

As it turns out, Robin acted like glue between you and Steve. Neither of you would have ever made an effort to see each other again, out of embarrassment or guilt or both, but Robin didn’t have to unpack any of that baggage. She didn’t even know it existed.

Instead, she immediately saw you as a friend. And she brought you in like she had known you forever.

But Robin and Steve were a package deal. So, if you were a friend to her, you had to be a friend to him, too.

And the two of them were weird. Most of the time, they left you feeling like a third wheel on their friendship.

They could be mean to each other. Rough. They acted the exact way you knew siblings do, but that was only surface level. There was something deeper - more than anything a brother and sister had, because it wasn’t the blood in their veins that connected them. It was the roots they chose to grow into each other that kept them together.

Robin spent the night with Steve more often than she didn’t. And she bullied him for his bad cooking, and he told her when an outfit was ugly, and they stood next to each other like two puzzle pieces that didn’t match but fit together with a hard press.

Sometimes you sat on the sidelines and ached, mourning a friendship that had been buried some odd years ago. It was well beyond rotten - something decayed and unrecognizable now. Even if you dug it up, it couldn’t be the same as it was.

But you wished.

And as you sat and listened to Robin chastise Steve for saying something dumb - watched as he meddled her hair into a purposeful mess, you could only laugh and sink into yourself. You were happy and sad; you cherished your time together and dreaded it, all at the same time.

Above it all, Steve was different. Distant in the way he would never meet your eyes, or laugh too loud at your jokes, or sit too close for too long.

It all felt fleeting. Like that week you spent angry at him - stuck in a weird limbo, between friends and strangers, a frustrating purgatory. Some kind of Schrodinger’s Cat of a friendship - alive and dead at the same time.

You would have just said something, if it felt like you could. But if Steve minded, he didn’t show it. If he missed how things were, he didn’t act like it. And, as you knew him, if he wanted to he would.

And it wasn’t totally bad. It was just new. You’d get used to it with a spoonful of sugar and a hard swallow.

On a random day, you had mentioned off-hand that you had been meaning to visit your aunt’s apartment to drop off and pick up a few things. Steve offered to take you, and you agreed, and the next day, you made good on your plans.

The two of you didn’t hang out without Robin very often. Since early August, the number was hardly a handful. But with the radio turned on, it wasn’t too awkward.

Steve had visited your aunt with you several times growing up. He went to her house-warming party when she moved into her apartment. You were thirteen, and you made a game of pressing every button in the elevator before getting off it. Now, every time you’re there, you think about how you used to chase him down the halls.

Her place was the nicest there was in Hawkins, in the tallest residential building in town. Parking was a nightmare, but Steve kept his complaints under his breath, and he even carried your bag for you.

The elevator was the only thing in the apartment’s lobby. As you pressed the button, Steve spoke up.

“You wanna take the stairs instead?”

“Why?”

He shrugged. You laughed.

“You want to climb eight flights of stairs? No thanks.”

“I’m an athlete,” he mumbled under his breath, sheepish. “This thing is taking forever, anyways.”

It dinged as it finally started moving down toward the bottom floor.

“It’s on its way.”

He stepped back, looked around, and he must have spotted the stairwell. “I’ll race you,” and then he took off.

The elevator door opened as the stairway’s door closed, and you rode to the top floor alone.

He didn’t win the race - far from it, and you laughed as he tried to hide his struggling breathing.

“Been waiting for you all day, athlete. Thought you’d take ‘til Christmas.”

“Psh. Whatever. I’ll win on the way down.”

The elevator creaked and hummed as it started moving down, and Steve glared at it.

You laughed, “You’re weird,” and you left him behind to walk down the hall.

He worked fast to catch up, and called out, “The loser pays for dinner!”

“You know I’d never pass up that bet.”

Your aunt wasn’t home - she rarely was. But a key was under the mat, and as you walked inside her tuxedo cat, Webster, greeted you at the door.

“Hey, dude,” Steve said, kneeling down to pet him.

An old cardboard box sat on the dining table nearby, “Glassware” written on the side in crude permanent marker. It’s what you had been instructed to pick up and take back home - you weren’t sure what was inside.

You sat down and opened it and pulled out the first thing you saw: a white paper bag, one you knew printed photos came in.

“This what you came for?”

Steve stood next to you. He had Webster in his arms, who was purring loud and melting into his hand.

“Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Family stuff, I’m guessing.” You pulled out a fat stack of pictures and the one on top made you bark a laugh. “Oh my god.”

You and Steve, seven years old, wearing matching cowboy costumes for Halloween - you with a white cowboy hat, him with a black one. You stood with a jack-o-lantern between you. You had your hands on your hips and a frown on your face; Steve had his chin pushed out in a wicked scowl.

You turned it to him, and he laughed just as loud as you. “Look at those two mean mugs!”

“Do you remember this?”

He sat in the chair next to you, continuing to look at the photo over your shoulder. Webster made himself comfortable in his lap.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “We fought all night because you stole my -”

“Oh my god.”

“You stole my full size Snickers.”

“I did not!”

“You did.”

“I didn’t!”

The way he looked at you told you this was still a sore subject.

“You went ahead of me to the Smith’s place while I was trying to tie my shoe and you took her last bar. That’s what happened!”

“That’s not stealing!”

“It is!”

“I didn’t mean to leave you behind! It’s not my fault you didn’t know how to tie your shoes!”

“You didn’t, either. And, I learned before you.”

You puffed a sigh and flipped the photo to the back of the stack. “Why are you still fighting over this? We shared all the candy, anyway.”

“It’s the principle. Theft is a crime, and you never apologized.”

You only laughed. No way were you giving him that apology now.

When you pulled the photos out of the box, you didn’t intend on looking through them all, but your curiosity kept you flicking through them. Most were of random family members or photos of the beach, but pictures of you and Steve were littered throughout the stack. There wasn’t a single photo of you that didn’t have him in it, too.

There were from some first days of school, birthday parties, sleepovers. They were sorted somewhat chronologically - looking through them was pure nostalgia, memories hitting you at every angle as you watched yourself grow up.

The next one to catch your eye was from a middle school dance. Neither of you wanted to attend, but your mother insisted. Your one condition was that you could wear whatever you wanted.

So you and Steve had swapped styles. You wore his way oversized Atlanta Flames jersey, a baseball cap, and sneakers that didn’t fit; he had on your purple sweater, a big pearl necklace, and white jeans.

It was cute, and it was goofy, and you wished you could jump into the picture and relive it.

At that age, the only thing you knew was that you and Steve would live forever, together. Now that you know what you know, your heart ached for the little girl in these pictures. What would she think about the space between you two now?

There were pictures from summer camp, swimming pools, and your first day of high school.

Webster meowed. Steve meowed back at him.

As you got to the bottom of the stack, pictures of the two of you were less and less. The last one - the one you didn’t know would be your last picture with him - was of you, him, and a few of your extended family members. A day spent at the lake that Steve really didn’t want to go to, for some reason only an angsty teenage boy could understand, that you dragged him to. It was the summer before your junior year.

In the photo, his arm was draped completely over your shoulder. You remembered him leaning all of his weight on you - to the point that you fell out of your seat after the picture was taken by your aunt.

And you had fun, like you always did. Steve became a member of your family out of happenstance. It was just because he was always around, really. They all saw him as much as they saw you.

You put that photo to the back of the stack and kept carding through them. You didn’t find any more pictures of you and Steve.

The rest were all more recent. Steve stopped you on one that was of you alone - sat at a dinner table, wearing a cable knit sweater.

“That’s a good one,” he said.

“Yeah. It’s from Christmas. Senior year, maybe.”

You acted like you weren’t sure, but you knew exactly when that photo was taken. You just didn’t want him to know how sad you were in it.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” and you laughed, “this was not a fun party.” He didn’t reply, and so you kept talking, sparing him a shy glance. “Everyone kept asking where you were.”

The silence was heavier this time.

“Oh,” he said, trying to bury it. “Yeah.” An awkward chuckle. “I bet that was annoying.”

You laughed and tried to make it sound real - tried to seem like you didn’t care. “Yeah, well, you know how my family always liked you better.”

He shrugged, looking like he was going to make a joke, but he didn’t. His eyes were distant as they moved down to his lap.

You shoved the picture to the back with the rest.

The one behind it was just as lonely.

Still, Steve perked up at it. “Is that from graduation?”

You wore a cap and gown, you held a bouquet of flowers, and you stood all alone.

“Yeah.”

Steve’s hand wrapped around yours holding the picture, and he tilted it toward him so he could get a better look.

“My aunt kept trying to get me to find you for a picture,” you laughed.

“You should’ve.” He smiled something big and real, and you realized with a rush that this is the closest you’d been to him in a while. If you kept looking, you could count the freckles on his cheek. His thumb pressed into the back of your hand. “I remember seeing you. You looked real cute.”

You ignored his compliment to say something snide. “I ignored you so hard.”

Another laugh, “Really?”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah. That’s fair - I would’ve, too.”

You tried not to think about how badly you wished he was standing next to you in the picture.

Steve spoke up, “I -” but you cut him off by accident.

“It’s fine.”

You didn’t mean it. He could tell.

“...Is it?”

It was honest when you replied, “I don’t know.”

He was still holding your hand.

“I never told you I’m sorry.”

“I guess I just figured you were.”

You dropped the pictures on the table, dropping his hand with them.

“Is that good enough?” It was an honest question.

“I don’t know. Maybe it is.”

And your answer was genuine, because you didn’t know. Steve had come back into your life just as easily as he left it - on a whim, without any warning. You didn’t put any roadblocks in his way.

But you stared at the photos spread out in front of you. At the story they told of your friendship that would always be unfinished.

You had to teach yourself how to do life without him. All of those lessons seemed useless, now, because here he was. And you didn’t even know if he ever missed you.

You pulled away from him, a move that was far more snappy than you meant. You did it like he’d reached out and burned you. It had Webster jumping down to the floor.

“It’s fine,” you repeated.

“I think you’re lying just to make me feel better.”

“I don’t know why I’m lying.”

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” he mumbled, and you stood up. The chair scraped the floor in a way that grated your ears. You turned your back to him.

“I thought I knew you.” Your eyes welled up, your nose started to run. You balled your hands up like you were on defense. “I thought you would say sorry, and make everything go back to normal like you always did. But you didn’t. I thought you would miss me, at least, but - but you didn’t.”

“You think I didn’t miss you?”

The shake in his voice had your fist dropping to hit your thighs, defeated.

“I miss you more than anything. I’m sorry - I’m not just saying it to make you feel better, or because I have to, I - I don’t even deserve to be saying it.” He paused, and you could imagine the way he was running his hands through his hair and pacing around with nerves. “I’m sorry for being a bad friend. For not treating you like you deserved - I hate myself for it. You were the best thing in my life, and I know that now. I was just too scared to come crawling back to you because I wasn’t worth your time.”

You breathed in deep, exhaled hard, and it felt like the first breath you had taken in two years. It was that feeling when you’ve forgotten your keys but find the door unlocked - the relief of being let in despite a mistake, it rushed through you, and it had you turning to look at him. You found him standing and staring at you, through you, with glassy eyes you would always know.

“I just miss you, Steve.”

Three steps and then he was around you. And you were safer than a child hiding under their blanket from whatever lurked in their closet - monsters weren’t real if his arms were around you. That had always, always been true.

Webster rubbed up against your leg, then Steve’s. The hug shook with both of your laughter, and he held you tighter.

…

Things didn’t go back to how they used to be after that, but it was close enough. And you were trying to settle into the differences that kept knocking you off your feet.

It started with late night phone calls.

Before, you never talked on the phone. Why would you when his house was a stone throw away? If you wanted to talk, you’d invite yourself to his place.

But the two of you were still dancing on the ripped edges of that two year old fight. Wounds were still healing - almost there, but not quite. So it was easier to take it slow, to treat this time as something brand new.

And it was brand new.

You had caught yourself grinning ear to ear over stories he’d tell you, and you had to force the smile off your face. Like you shouldn’t be acting that way over your friend - you quickly realized you just couldn’t help it.

He’d keep you up too late and tease you for it the next day. And you weren’t sure if he was trying to get a rise out of you, but that’s how you felt. He acted so smug after seeing your cheeks swell in embarrassment.

So it wasn’t going back to how it was before. In fact, it was going down an entirely different road - one that wasn’t even on the map.

You weren’t complaining, because you felt things you hadn't felt before around him. He made you feel warm, and you were addicted to it. You were addicted to him, and you had blind hope that the feeling was mutual.

He’d spend his entire lunch break visiting you, even if your breaks didn’t line up. He’d follow you around the apparel section at Roses and you’d have all your attention on him, just the way he liked it. He made sure to see you every day.

You never thought he’d make you feel so shy, but it was an emotion you couldn’t get enough of. You hardly realized what you were spiraling into until you’d catch him looking at you with a blush on his cheeks, or until you had to stop yourself from thinking about him every night before bed.

But there was something glaring, something major, something you couldn’t look at directly until it came up in conversation with Robin.

Robin and Steve always had Sundays off, so the day was designated to be stolen by their other friends - who were all in junior high.

When you asked why they were friends with junior high kids, Steve called himself their babysitter. Robin said she was their good influence. You avoided asking follow up questions.

It was a lazy autumn day, one where the warmth of fallen leaves reflected in the air - something rare for early November.

The youngest of the kids, Erica, loved putting on a nice outfit and going for a walk. Today it was yellow Chucks, a red silk and pleated maxi skirt, and a long sleeve button up with a rainbow of vertical stripes. (It would have been a tie dyed short sleeve, if Steve hadn’t told her it was too chilly for it.) She had stuck gems beside her eyes, the kind that come in the plastic packets and don’t stay on for long, and Robin packed yellow eyeshadow on her eyelids.

She was downright cute, but if you told the eleven year old that she’d aim her sass at you and shoot to kill. She much preferred receiving a refined compliment, because, “I hear that all the time.”

Today, you told her you loved the way she paired so many colors together. She grinned something beautiful and kicked her foot up behind her and agreed with you.

Steve had once described her as a menace - you didn’t understand why.

You walked with Robin a few feet behind Erica, Dustin, and Steve. Dustin had not stopped talking the whole time, except when Erica butted in. Steve had stolen the younger boy’s thinking cap hat and was wearing it backwards.

“The last time I wore this coat, I found two phone numbers in the pocket.” Robin held up two fingers and gestured to the Letterman jacket she wore. It was Steve’s. “Can you believe that? I mean, what a douche. I wouldn’t even wear this if it wasn’t so warm.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I believe it, actually. They were probably from some cheerleaders or something.”

“Yeah, well, he can’t get any numbers these days. He’s cursed to be forever lame as punishment for the jerk he was in high school.” Robin was smirking wicked and wide, like it was satisfying for her.

“He’s lost all his charm?”

“All of it. I mean, one hundred percent. I used to keep count of how many times he fell on his face in front of girls. It’s magnificent, truly.” Then, quieter, “He’ll get it back, though. One day.”

“He used to have no trouble at all.” The conversation had the gears in your head turning; it had you speaking without thinking. “I don’t know. He’s really different now.”

Robin laughed, like you were joking. “Yeah, he learned manners, for one.”

“It’s not that.” You were thinking out loud. “He’s nicer, yeah, but… it’s almost like he’s not even the same person. I’m not sure what happened.”

The Steve you knew was boisterous. He was unapologetic. He was stupidly confident, the life of the party, and he wasn’t afraid of anything. A wouldn’t take no for an answer, go with the flow, drop of the hat kind of person.

You were lucky to know him when that’s all he was. Before the halls of Hawkins High swallowed him and spit out someone ornery who cared too much but not at all.

You thought it was just Tommy and Carol’s influence. Now that he wasn’t their friend anymore, you thought he’d become who he used to be.

“He told me how close you two were before,” Robin said. She was tugging on a strand of hair that was stuck in her lip gloss. “I guess I never knew him like you did.”

“He’s so quiet now. He used to be so loud.” You meant it more than literally - you hoped Robin would understand. “I don’t know. So much changed and it’s only been a couple years.”

It seemed like she was struggling to reply, because it took her more than a few seconds to get her words out.

“I guess - I mean - I think you’ve probably changed a lot, too. Two years is a long time, right?”

Robin knew. No one could tell, but she knew.

Maybe the differences that you had described of Steve were really there. She wasn’t able to see them the way you could, but she didn’t care. It was selfish to admit that she would never change a thing about him - but one.

He was waiting.

Everyone was, she thinks.

Waiting for another fight.

It wasn’t easy to go back to normal after trudging through hell. It was like coming out the other side of trench warfare unharmed - you didn’t. When a gun fires, its bullets hit. If a bomb is dropped it doesn’t miss a fucking thing, and Starcourt Mall was goddamn ground zero.

And Robin wasn’t there for the disappearance of Will Byers. The death of Barbra Holland. The Upside Down. The Demogorgon. The Demodogs, and the lab, and the girl with psychic powers. She wasn’t there, but Steve was.

Her head hurt just thinking of the stories he’s told her. And she knew his did, too, more often than he’d admit to her.

And she felt bad when her sleeping patterns went back to normal but his didn’t. When she got used to being on edge all the time, Steve still jumped at any noise. His phone would ring and she would watch him prepare himself to answer it - to hear Dustin’s voice on the line telling him that it’s back.

So when you said that Steve’s changed, Robin didn’t know what to tell you. You were right, and she knew that, but she couldn’t tell you why. You knew everything about him besides, well - everything.

Robin wished she didn’t have to know, either. She wanted to tell you that you should be grateful you couldn’t see the shackles on his ankles. You got to know him before - and Robin would give anything for that.

But she couldn’t change a thing.

Instead, all she could do was wait.

And lie.

And pretend.

“He’s still loud,” she said, uncomfortable as all get out.

As if he heard her words, Steve busted out in a stomach hurting kind of laughter at one of Dustin’s stories.

“See what I mean?”

Your destination was in sight now. Steve turned around - letting Dustin steal his hat back - walking backwards, and reached a hand out to you.

“You coming?”

Your pace turned into a skipping sort of jog to catch up with him. When you were close enough he grabbed your hand and didn’t let go. He’d been doing that often.

The kids and Robin broke away, heading for the tiny park that was up on your right. To your left, Steve tugged you to a tiny convenience store.

“Place your orders!” he called.

Dustin and Erica shouted at the same time. Steve mumbled something about not being able to understand them, so you relayed their messages.

“You’re getting two things! No more than that!” he shouted back. “Robin?”

“7-Up.”

“What else?”

“Surprise me!”

You hung onto his arm as you walked into the store, and you weren’t even sure why. He never pulled away when you got that close, so you kept going back.

You went for the drink coolers first. He reached for the apple juice.

“She likes orange juice the best, now,” you said.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“You better be right - if she’s mad at me over this, I’ll be mad at you.”

You rounded up all the snacks everyone wanted, following Steve’s only two items rule. You laughed when he chose plain potato chips as Robin’s surprise - the blandest possible choice. And while he checked out at the counter, you wandered off into the aisles.

He acted like he didn’t want you to go, pulling you back and asking a quiet, “where’re you going?”

“To look around.”

It was straight to the candy aisle for a Blow Pop for Erica, Pop Rocks for Dustin, and sour gummy worms to share. You liked spoiling them - it helped to get on their good side.

You made a stop at the candy bars to grab a Snickers bar before going back to the counter, and Steve immediately shook his head when he saw you.

“What are you doing? What’s all that?”

“It’s all for me.” You dropped it all for the clerk to scan.

“All of it?”

“Yeah.”

“Even though you said you didn’t want anything?”

“I changed my mind!”

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, and you watched his hand move to his back pocket.

“Don’t you dare.”

His wallet was half way out of his pocket as he laughed. “What?”

“You’re not paying. Stop.” You tried to sound mad, and felt you were doing a good job, but he kept giggling at you.

“Oh, are you my boss now?”

“Yes, Steve,” and you bumped into him, trying to push him away. “Don’t make me say your full name.”

“Just let me -”

“Take their things to them! Go!”

You were shocked when he listened, but he only made it as far as the door. He stood against the glass with his arms crossed, staring at you until you finally followed him.

“What are you looking at?”

He pushed his back into the door to open it. “Trying to figure it out.” He reached for your hand, and you swatted it away, only for him to catch you, anyway. And you let him hold your hand, all the way across the street to the park.

Your friends sat at a picnic table waiting patiently. It was actually two tables pushed together, doubling the normal length; Erica and Dustin sat opposite each other on one end, and Robin sat in the middle, crisscrossed on top of the table.

Steve divvied snacks to grabby hands, and you snuck their surprise treats in to the sound of thank yous.

You took your seat on the other end of the table across from Steve. When you sat down, he put a bottle of Coke between you.

“Are you going to share?” you asked.

“Only if you’ve got something to give me in return.”

The Snickers bar made a thud on the wooden table. Steve hummed. “I guess that’s good enough.”

You were almost happy with the trade until you realized, “No bottle opener?”

His eyes doubled their size. “Shit.” Then, he grabbed the bottle. “No, it's a twist off.” The noise he made as he tried taking off the cap was something like a squeak, and everyone at the table laughed.

“Just walk back to the store!”

“Dustin - Dustin! Do you -”

The boy slid a large key ring down the table. It was a wad of keys, keychains, and gadgets.

“It’s on there somewhere.”

There was a mini flashlight, a laser pointer, a plastic Q*bert charm, a pocket knife, keys and keys and keys, a kubaton, and, “Yes!” a bottle opener.

“This is why I keep you around, Henderson.”

“I’m the one keeping you guys around, first of all.”

You grabbed the Coke and guzzled a couple drinks worth in one go, and when you put it back down, Steve had already eaten half the candy bar in one bite.

“Steve!”

His mouth was full when he said, “What?”

“Why can’t you share? Why didn’t anyone ever teach you about sharing?” His laugh was sweeter than the chocolate he was shoving into your face. “Stop, I don’t wanna eat after you.”

“We’ve got the same germs,” he said, and he was feeding you the Snickers before you could make another argument.

The snacks were all gone much quicker than it took to walk and get them, because none of you would ever learn to savor the destination. Regardless, next Sunday, you’d all be sitting in the same spot - give or take a few others, creating a good day for yourselves.

And, if you were lucky, Steve would be holding your hand the whole time.

...

It didn’t matter who you were cheering for on the court, you hated high school basketball games.

Going to Lucas’s game brought back far too many memories than you’d care to recollect. But even though you hated it, you were still filled with pride watching the boy play the game so well.

And Steve hadn’t shut up about it all night. He spoke about Lucas shooting the buzzer beating winning basket like he was recounting a grand story - something from a movie or a comic book. Like you weren’t sitting beside him the entire time.

You stood with him in his kitchen, and the excitement had finally started to settle. You and Steve had spent far too long talking about how weird it was to be back in the high school gym, and both of you agreed that you didn’t miss it at all.

“Is Robin excited for spring break?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “She said she’s spending the entire week here so she can be as lazy as she wants, so - I guess she is.”

You threw a weak fist into his shoulder and he caught it. “What’s wrong with that?”

“She’s gonna steal all my time!” His grin was contagious as he slotted his fingers into yours. “And that means I can’t steal all of yours.”

“Does that mean I’m finally getting a break from you?” You laughed, but he didn’t.

It was weird, the way his entire demeanor changed in a snap. Before you could even take back the joke you made he was shifting his eyes and dropping his grin.

He had always worn his heart on his sleeve, even if he tried hiding it.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” It was a hand through his hair that said the opposite, but you’d never call out his tells. “I just - that reminded me there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” He dropped your hand to cross his arms, and it had you feeling nervous.

“What about? …Did I do something wrong?”

“No, honey.” You weren’t sure when that nickname came around, or when it started to stick, but it had a fairy fluttering its wings in your chest. He started to reach for you again, you could see it, but he stopped himself. “You could never do anything wrong.”

You laughed quiet. “Neither could you.”

You moved to stand next to him, mirroring the way his back leaned against the counter. Your arm pressed to his. He was looking at the floor; you were looking at him.

“Are you sure?” It started as a whisper but jumped into a shake, a crack in his voice that said more than he wanted to. And he looked at you, to see if you caught it, and you swore his eyes were shining. He didn’t show them to you for longer than a moment.

“Steve?”

“I just - I don’t want to fuck this up again.”

“How would that even happen?”

He looked at you like he knew something you didn’t. “I don’t know.”

You nudged his arm with your elbow, again and again, until his crossed arms dropped. Your pointer finger snaked around his, and the touch brought enough bravery out of him to link his fingers with yours.

“What do you know?”

He scoffed into a smile, one big enough to reach his eyes, and it brought him out of his funk. “I don’t know,” he said, moving closer to you as he made the joke.

“That’s what I thought,” you replied. “Not a thought going on in your head.”

Making him laugh was the key to his heart - you knew that, and it worked this time as well as it always had.

He had his head turned, cheek to shoulder, staring down at you; you were so close, you could watch his eyes move across your face and know where he was looking. They wandered, but when his gaze lingered on your lips - you noticed.

“I know one thing for sure,” he said.

When you took a loud breath, you’re sure he heard. He gave you eye contact again, and maybe you were seeing things, but you swore you saw question marks swimming in the green.

He didn’t breathe. You didn’t blink. You moved forward just a hair, and he looked back down, so you pressed on. You wanted to be closer, as close as you could get - it was curiosity or desperation, you didn’t know.

When he tilted his chin toward you, it was hardly noticeable. But you saw it, and it was enough. Your nose was just about to touch his - you watched his eyes close, right before yours did. There was nothing to do but move closer, closer, closer.

And then, when you felt just the softest graze of his skin on yours -

BAM! BAM! BAM!

You jumped back from each other like same-side magnets, gasping and jumping at the sound of loud knocks on the front door.

He moved fast, like he was looking for a way out, leaving you alone in the kitchen. “Shit.”

Steve had a good idea of who he’d see when he opened the door. The knob was jingling when he unlocked it, then pulled it open.

Sure enough, Robin. Wearing a flannel that was his, with wild bedhead that he couldn’t help laughing at.

“Did you walk here?”

“Yeah,” she croaked. “Let me in.”

It was written all over her face why she was there, and Steve felt bad.

Even though she asked to come in, she didn’t move. Her features were all scrunched up, her shoulders were hunched into her crossed arms.

“Robin -”

“I fucking hate this.” Loud, echoing into the night and through his door. “I hate it, Steve, and I swear - I swear it’s not over.” Her eyes wet her cheeks; she looked at him through tears. “It’s going to happen again. I can feel it. And I’m scared.”

He had to pull her inside, because he knew she’d stand in the same spot all night if he didn’t. She pushed into him, shoving her face into his shoulder, wiping her tears on his shirt.

“You just need to rest,” he told her.

She spoke something pitiful, not caring that her words were muffled. “The gate’s really closed, right? For sure?”

“It’s over, Robin, it was just a nightmare - you just need some good sleep, alright?”

She nodded, wiped her runny nose into her sleeve, and tried pulling her tears back in.

“I wish I could sleep anywhere else.”

“I know.” It wasn’t any sort of jab - it was just the truth. The only time she was truly afraid was when she slept alone.

She hit a fist into his chest, something playful that made things feel a little more okay, and then took herself to the stairs.

“I’ll be up in a minute to stand guard,” he joked. She barely laughed but it was enough, and he watched her until he couldn’t see her anymore.

And he hoped you hadn’t heard anything, because he wouldn’t be able to answer any questions you had. When he found you in the kitchen you looked nothing but concerned.

“Is she okay?”

All you knew was that she had nightmares about the mall fire. It was a realistic excuse, in comparison to the unbelievable truth.

“Yeah. You know how she is.”

You nodded. Steve wasn’t sure how to go back to the talk you were having before, so he avoided it.

You spoke first. “I hope she’s alright.”

“I should probably go be with her,” he said.

You were perfectly okay with it, understanding as always. “Yeah. She needs you.”

He walked you to the door, and it was too brief for his taste. But when you were there, he spoke up.

“I’m sorry. Can we finish this tomorrow, maybe? I promise - I… I really did want to talk.”

“Of course,” you said, and it was shy. “Don’t be sorry, Steve, she’s more important right now. We can talk any time.”

His arms wrapped around your shoulders for a crushing hug. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay? Before work. We can make plans then.”

And that was it - he watched you make your walk home until you walked into your front door, and that was it.

The moment was ruined, and he might not be able to make it happen again.

…

Steve didn’t call you the next morning.

part two!!!!

#my writing #perhaps the only steve fic i will ever write #if there are typos in this i. lmao i will rage #this took forever this is so fucking long if no one reads it i dont blame truly #anyway #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #fluff #angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

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