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edenspoem · 8 months ago

Text

The Sweeter the Wheat

# pair: post-seattle!jackson!ellie x reader

## summary: There is no better birthday gift than loving her.

### reader discretion is advised: romance angst, fluff, bit suggestive towards the end, alcohol consumption, jesse is alive (he thought ahead this time), loser!ellie, sometimes!awkward!ellie, sometimes!cheekyandflirty!ellie, reader is sickenly envious and a bit nosy, but aware, ravenous and tipsy makeouts, sappy shit. #### a/n; listened to "to all of you" by syd matters + "cardigan" by taylor swift while writing parts of it.. got a love/hate relationship with this fic but it slaps i guess

SPRING SUN

“At least we got back before her birthday. Psh—‘magine that sweet tooth havin’ to commemorate her twentieth with nuts and jerky.”

Jackson tholes the bright spring against countless heavy hearts, numb from the death groans of winter. Under the melted snow, came old meadows, but nobody returned to comb through them. Only to pluck them bare of flora for a sole reason—a sole person—and not in the name of beauty.

Some meadows were stabbed through. Pierced into, made into a final home for the dearly departed he.

Time slipped slowly.

“Huh?”

Jesse sits at the tail of the bar, mumbling somethings that fly right past your ears. The diner is packed and the jukebox softly plays, but that of joy and conversation rules, so all nearby speech that is spat has become hodgepodge, herding your brain to run where the world is quiet. Given that, and the subtle significance in the day around you, you feel less than yourself. Immaterial.

There's a rightful wager that you didn't hear Jesse at all. Something about birthdays, maybe.

You pull yourself from the stars with a head-shake, having to retire the tiny notepad in your clutch. “Sorry, I completely tripped out just then. Why are we talking about birthdays—whose birthday are we.. talking about?”

Jesse appeared to be in doubt that your star-scaping moments were over; his features contorting more and more into disbelief as you gave him that barely curious squint. Poor him for having to be offended for somebody else.

A special somebody else at that!

His drawl comes in handy, “Come on, man. Four years strong and now you wanna forget that girl's birthday?” a voice so versed in pettiness, you could smack it right from his clever, grinning lips.

At whim, you almost do. But then his words fall into perfect place; that subtle signifigance makes all the more sense.

Spring: dappled in sunlight and vigorous in the trees, seems lovelier than it would in March or May. Seas of crimson and clovers thrive in the middle of April, and so does the red in her hair—soft, auburn tines—and the meadows in her earnest and shiny eyes. Recently dim, bruised and disheartened. But there, and unplucked at least, above the freckles you least regret missing when vengeance and a clue drove her out of this large, timber sanctuary. Home.

Every year on this day, the sun is relentlessly beautiful. No wonder, you think, now that you remember.

It's Ellie's birthday.

“Shit,” you curse, chewing at your guilty lip. “Is Ellie hiding out today as well? Haven't noticed her walking the thoroughfare at all.” Through the idle-talk, your hands find stray porcelain to retrieve and pile in the sink, scoffing at the liters of coffee that inevitably go cold in forgotten mugs.

“Do you notice anything working behind that counter?”

“Duh, dipshit,” you spout, back-talking him shamelessly, “I noticed you ambling towards the window earlier and knew my ears were in for a grating punishment.” Minding your eyes on nothing but the various plates you grab, the clutter clears fast. Like a damn robot.

He raises his hands in defense. “Hey, not my fault patrol’s been on cruise control this week.” With a part of the counter graciously tidied by your speedy work, he reclines in the barstool and claims that space with his lower legs, off to the side. Blissfully permission-less. “Can't say the same for here, though.”

You draw in a prefacing breath, tilting a cup at him. “You could if you hel—”

“No chance.”

“Fuck you, Jess,” you reply wielding a nickname given for occasions of defeat, little knives glaring from your eyes. “Thought this friendship had a no-questions-asked sort of thing. You've disgraced me.” Cueing that age-old love for drama, you gild the lily; mock a drama-queen. Hand to your heart and a pout to your mouth.

Hating Jesse is out of the picture, and hate is an easy pill to swallow. Sure, you two bark blank insults from time to time, but it's all in good humor. You just get each other too well. A hitch fated to click. A shoulder to violently sob into.

Jesse tuts at you, rolling a smug pair of eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Diners just aren't my thing, as infected aren't yours.” He reaches and grasps his mug of coffee that'd been basking there ever since you whipped up his usual, content in keeping his gob flat for the ‘noon.

And you're content in the casual peace and company. Always are. It coerces you to fulfill orders quicker, you would say. Here you stand, in perfect function, machine of the cogs.

That's how all days streak by here. A warm sun arises, and the hustle and bustle of human nature crowds every faded red booth in here, as your kin would have you sustain, and you sustain it fine enough. Even with the latching, mostly silent presence of your best bud Jesse to keep boredom a stranger and insanity a myth. Peckish lips, thirsty throats; everybody. All famished faces of Jackson, satisfied in the wake of your work. All, save one.

Ding!

At the entrance, you hear the jingle of the tiny, golden bell topping the door, and it doesn't intrigue you to investigate. Everyone is a frequenter, and you're basically omnipresent; sensing who it is and where they're routed to before they even sit. Call that perfect function.

Abruptly, the vintage magazine Jesse blankly browsed through is smacked back in place, and his throat clears. “First customer to break the hour-long streak. Let's see who—” he trails, and a dramatic pause thickens the air. Surprise loudly ensues. “Oh, ain't that funny. Look what fate dragged in.”

“Is it not a regular?” you ask, and at last perk your chin up. Intrigue clasps you now, as Jesse thought it atypical enough to point out.

Turns out, it isn't a regular at all.

Fate was a scary portrayal, as fate—and unfinished threads—would have you snuck into a corner and stranded for her to find. Plaid and blue, stood Ellie, lost as a doe in tangled woods, yet tall with purpose in front of that swinging glass door. From here, you notice her right arm supported in a white sling and twisted into her chest, right off the bat, as you did the night of return. Changes were made, obviously, sprigs of marker detailing the canvas-color of it, no doubt produced by those pesky kids in-town. Her tattoo is sorely invisible behind the bandages too; you've always liked that thing.

She's a bona-fide crush. A red-headed angel.

There and then, you recall why your heart reawoke into a prance that night she returned head to toe in dry, aged blood. You felt the revival of an inner-warmth, tracing fingers over the stitches in her back as she hunched in repressive quietude. Felt the moon evaporate off your skin, felt her wrist tensen in your palm as you dressed the wounds in hers. Felt the elusive moment staying became going, as it wasn't right.

You went straight home and threw right up, that very night. Her cold, marred skin was as deathly-like as the skin of a corpse. And you trailed your fingertips, all over it.

Strange. In a week, her flesh has been suppled of life. Hale, blushing and glowing as in younger days.

In your heart: a tremor. It reaches up every time you swallow, and blooms its beat, pounding at the pit of your throat. You don't feel real, you feel light, you feel fright. You feel the past, waking from a slumber in you, emerging breathless beyond the surface. So many things.

You feel fourteen again.

“Guess her ears were burning,” mumbled Jesse, polite enough to not transform your shared scrutiny into a scene, only so he could leave it in your hands. His head carefully turns, speaking softly, “You spoke to her at all, recently?”

“No,” a weighted breath departs you, and your shoulders repose. “Only the night she returned, while I tended to some of her travel wounds. Conversation wasn't easy to digest.” Shunning her very blatant presence, you pick your wash rag and begin again, foraging distraction.

“Bet not. Shit got hectic on the route Tommy picked,” he hums, and his eyes pursue once more to secretly follow her walking the opposite direction. Eyes you expectantly the second she slips into a booth. “Gonna take her order?”

You glower at his smug stare, knowing full well he intends to badger you into jumping the gun. Well, you're employed to do that, but, fuck fate! “Uh, duh? Di—”

“—Ipshit. Stop stalling.” He aims his hand, escorting you. “Birthday girl awaits.”

“Yeah, hold that smile. See what happens later.”

“Mhm.”

EXTRA SYRUP

Spectral hands suffocate your heart, and now your chest is tightened. Gut nervously sickened. There, she sits, seemingly absorbed by the air, and the sun that ripens with it. Thumbing at her nails, but not anxiously. Blowing at her lip, but not boredly. Hair dark ochre as the earth, yet fiery as the flaxen ray that pours into it. Tucked into a neat bun, as it was in December, January, and every paving year before. You like her hair that way.

She halved it up when Joel passed, and Seattle howled her name.

A lot about Ellie changed, really, but that is the perennial nature of water. Ellie is Neptune; a late-teenage girl experiencing a crucial shift into a new, individual season. Ones so seldom—they're cataclysmic, but temporary.

So much of her is eclipsed to the naked eye. Buried to make burrowing space for others. Just not you, it seems.

Every now and then, she glances as you intricately work your way over, a fist cupped to itself as if it alone safekeeps her deep and untold intentions; the warrant for sitting there. And you too, glance when her eyes smoothly retreat, dedicating pockets of this single, cherished minute to drink in little glimpses of her face. Trying to read her, read the shapes on her face if they indicate trouble, or truce. Last time you talked, you declared your resentment for being left worried and sleepless in Jackson.

Was it out of love?

Through the fair-haired light, that scar-heavy look on her features has noticeably abated, recapturing the tender warmth that gave her face the kind, puppy-browed ambiance you hesitated the world for. Gently laid brows, scarred the same as ever.

Those fucking freckles, too; a constellated map. Hidden miles and miles away for one sun and moon too many.

Not a mile bridges you both apart now, not anymore.

“Hey, Ellie,” you chime in, frail in respect of the one-mind conversation her idle stare partakes. Just her, and the spring sun. Sweet wheat skin is taken from its aerial shine as her head heeds your voice, a loose twine of auburn falling from place.

Your somber greeting fine-tuned the focus in her eyes, softening into a shape less spacious, more devoted.

And though away from underneath the boughs of sunlight, her eyes found a disembodied source. Dried moss, gleams into a violent sea glass, pupils taking in how you hold that notepad firm in thumbs and pointers.

For the first time in an age, you too, have changed.

The corners of her lips crease into her cheek. “Hey,” her reply mirrors the breathiness of yours, and her left arm low-arcs up to rest on the booth seat, body facing you head-on. Totally relaxed. “How come you didn't mention the job switch? Was lookin’ for you,” she asks curiously, a tinge of that sweet-talk peeking through her wide grin.

Now that you've stepped closer and garnered her attention, you can see and feel every notched nicety of her face on yours. You can only imagine how a swollen, sliced lip feels, and the continual migraines a fractured nose brings. Weeks of healing have swept by, but her afflictions in particular weren't petty.

“Guess it felt irrelevant to bring up when you got back. But you're here now, and you found me. So?” your tone edges on.

“Well, yeah,” she chuckles. “Did you not miss me?” She feigns offense; brows quirking and her tone pitching slightly.

You did.

A sigh starts in you, “Hard to not miss and worry for somebody when you picked up their slack in every patrol dating way back.” Barely nipping what you really felt with a snarky tease. “Oh shit, that rhymes,” you glance off and whisper to yourself, still loud enough to inspire mirth.

And it does; her forehead pinches and her voice rises in mirth, laughing casually and shifting in her seat to lean one elbow upon the table. “Ha— yeah,” she admits defeat. Ellie is undeniably cute when she does, always shrinks into herself and sinks into thoughtful conference, thinking of something—anything smart to knock you back into that corner. “Guess you're right. Hm, always were on my ass about that, huh?”

You tut, “Mhm. Missed my scolding in Seattle?” crossing a leg and bearing weight upon it.

“Nah,” she confesses briefly, and you barely believe it. Wringing in doubt at that sly smile she tries to conceal from you. “I learned my lesson this time.” Ellie glances up, a prayer written on her face asking you to hold your scolds. “Trust me.”

“Hurt enough this time?”

“Fuck you!” She punts you playfully in the ankle and begins a laugh again. “You’re not allowed to point that out!”

That was the way of things; Ellie would charge into a fight wearing her life on her chest, slackening the rules, and you had to reel her in. Tug the leash. It had you suspecting her to have a foolproof reason as her backbone, like she was daring the devil with eyes fearlessly open. Steadfast intent. She would lure runners to her, grapple them from you, or push you away beyond safety. Leave you to watch an animalistic vigor fill every bind in her body until you're convinced she’s either coming out bitten or scathingly torn.

You wish she saw how worrying she truly looked; a sweet face splattered hair to chin in the blood of infected, catching her breath and shaking the arm of the croaking infected she just slaughtered off her ankle. Being way too blithe-hearted for the sacred sake of everyone involved.

“Don't worry about me.”

One day, when she asked you with her solemn eyes to be afraid, you thought she finally trusted you to handle yourself past her overprotective nature. Then, one clicker got too close for comfort, and she retracted the pact of fighting equally. Losing more than what her blade owes the earth would prove her fears to be a product of her unsacrifice.

Ellie figured it was half the reason you quit patrol duty, but not that it was fully the reason you anguished over her leaving for Seattle later on; her appetite for violence.

She accepts it so easily. But even when you had sworn she had place in something as simple as retiring from patrol and nothing else, she smelt the sugary scent of a white lie. Joel did it before. She never accepted it under a gentle radar. Instead, it had her wondering if she had upset you, if you would forgive the crimson melodrama and still take her up on breakfasts at ten when she returned. Regardless if you painted the full picture in the end, apologies spilled alike to winded waters out of this girl; sorry that she still could not stomach you tagging along for vengeance. Never-ending sorries, and you lapped each one up. Brought gaping arms around her and absorbed all the ugly and hopeless sounds. You wanted to prove her fears wrong, but perhaps it was time fear let you be the lamb. Live and let live.

Then, Dina would step in, and Ellie would be wrapped around her finger in sudden laughter. Happy and unhurt. Couldn't even remember what occurred before her sun entered the room, and dried those tears.

Crimson melodrama is all you preserved when abandoned, and is all you could look at her with when in longing.

The winter dance had your guts up to your throat.

Seattle, inexplainable.

You don’t hate Dina; your envy lies with the disconnection of it all.

“What do you recommend?” she questions, and her eyes anticipate you to be the ultimate apocalyptic-dining expert. Locked and attentive. She then begins to shake her head in gesture, planting the menu down. "I don't— I don't usually go to these kinds of places, so.. What do you think?" she awkwardly giggles, tapping the menu's plastic sleeve.

Tension presses a smile onto your lips at her inelegance. "Nobody does, not even people who went to these places before the outbreak," you opine, swapping the notepad to one hand and sliding into the booth. "It's okay. I mean.. hmm, what do you prefer? Sweet or salty?"

Her eyelids flick down, fingers coming to lace together as her eyes traverse the options. "Uh, I guess I— wait, wait," she interrupts herself. A swift finger draws you to look down at the menu, "You guys make pancakes here?" green eyes gaping at you with pupils more voracious than her stomach—or her sweet tooth.

"Yeah."

"I'll have that then."

It was a steadfast verdict. The sweet honey pancakes, she shall have, at the cost of a couple minutes and a couple ingredients. But it isn't traditional for birthdays, so you weigh in. “Just pancakes? I mean.. Faye is back there if you want something a little more celebrator—”

“—I'm not really a blow-the-candles-out and make-a-wish type of person,” she corrects you, brows cinched in as she rambles. Then, her free hand scoots the menu forward. “But you already knew that, you just insist otherwise,” she chuckles, unable to meet eye and eye.

True. Your soft insistence dawns from wanting nothing less than heaven inside everything for her, and maybe a dash of that sweet-sweet crush on her. But, Ellie is so staunch in being the humble girl that doesn't glorify every recorded happening with string lights and a wish hurled into the uncaring universe bent upon nurturing demised, late lights young girls reach for. She kept everything low-key: a small garage get-together on her last birthday, the one before that, and the one predating those two. Alcohol in your palms and movies playing back to back. Budding distorted laughs and tumbles into each other. Birthday things.

The remnants of her fifteen-year-old mind hangs aimlessly inside that museum. Dangled and stretched into archaic bones. On the day of return, she arrived happier than a sunflower drunk on the sun. Broad smiles and whatever else.

Wasn't for long.

“Forget you're so down-to-earth and reserved about all the fun things,” you snarkily deliver, retiring that still empty notepad behind your back. Memory shall serve. “Will that be it then?”

“Are you saying I'm not fun?”

“I'm saying you need more of it.” You emphasize with a tiny bounce-up on your calves, tilting your head north. Though, nothing she uttered was wrong and so your voice silkily drones on, “And that.” You act the lack of a ruder way to insinuate. “But yeah, okay. One order of pancakes coming up.”

“Cool, I'll uh—have a 'celebratory' drink in the meantime?” She nudges the menu towards you once again, irises pulled thin on themselves. Thoroughly staring; your reflection in a bead of black.

You have to laugh, kindly laugh. “No alcohol here, dumbass.”

“Oh. Right.” Her doe-stare only crescendoed from there, shying away at the result of her asking. Something reluctant is lodged in her pale throat, stumbling out only when it feels imminent as you turn away. “D-Do you wanna chat, afterwards? There's so much bullshit surrounding Seattle I have to catch you up on and I-I didn't before, so.."

Swinging your head back, you gauge that mercurial girl there. Tripping up her request like it couldn't escape hibernation from her head any quicker than insult does.

Faye shouldn't mind. “'Course, I was left to wonder about everything since that night anyway.” Your boss might even encourage it; knowing that your long-standing crush for her—heartbreaking to fathom, beautiful to feel—never swept you from rambling Ellie into some fairytale, so she would use it to psych you into asking her out. Jesse, too. Damn the nosy ones!

But it's the one thing that keeps you worried now.

“Cool, cool. Oh, hey, add extra syrup will you?”

What does Ellie think of you?

“Mhm,” syrup is nowhere as sweet as your hum. “Got it.”

Does she think of you at all?

MOUTHS ALL-CONSUMING AND DEPRIVING

Minutes in, minutes out, wallowing at that ruby-red booth fed the realization to Ellie that the nerves feeding off her anxious chest could not combat conversation alone. She needed an aid. Liquid courage. Velvety smooth and robust.

Fortunately for betting gods and heaven-watching anyones, leftover whiskey from the last bonfire made stock in her cloistered, chaotic cabinets. So it founded no surprise that it whirled to mind after the celebratory-drink fact; leading you here, in her bedroom, on her bed. She pours whiskey into stubby glasses, One for her, one for you, and a lucky extra two for further along this unexplored line. Nothing overflowing limits.

But, oh boy, did it make you all lovey-dovey.

Her lips move and they dance over words, but all you hear is your own enamoration of how heart-shaped they are. You see, but fail to hear and comprehend. Floating aimlessly into those freckles, again. Something a fourteen-aged, sanguine mind would do.

Ellie was relaying Seattle to you, she prefaced. Prefacing didn’t aid you in paying attention, though. Today is not your sharpest, it dates to be your most absentminded. Not your usual, at all.

Nods are swayed to every shock-value word that you manage to understand, but the star-crossed rest, you miss, and replace with whatever story her pupils trace. They flit to read your face after each end of her sentences, so it has you thinking too much of her time has slipped without the company of a listener, and now that her time slips into you, she can use it to stretch your expression with whatever witty remark she makes.

She did one day blurt that your laugh compliments your smile—or however that fucking flirt threw it over the crackle of that bonfire.

In fact, when you begin to let parts of her body neck-down from her face distract you, only then do you decipher how much she has grown in a month.

She pitches her drink to sip, and your eyes are hot on that glassy trail, artistically concerned with the way she swills down whiskey: fluently gulped, throat bobbing, the scar on her lip licked clean. Her brows too, have thickened, much so as her leathered skin, her callouses. She traces her thigh in circles repeatedly—a fidgety habit—and her lips purse and tug and wrinkles hug and press said lips when they are prettily wide.

Every high noon or low point of her body was different, and you have missed a great many things you care too much about to not appreciate every brink and midst. You don't want her to be lost to otherworld winds without studying her presence harshly. She is in your scrutiny, now more than ever.

“So, do I get to see my pancakes yet, or?”

“Oh, oops.” You snap out of your woolgathering, wagging your head left to right. Then briskly as you assented her invitation, you slide your knees under you, reorganizing your seating. “Can't blame me for being so invested in your epic tales. Could totally be a comic narrator for the school in town.”

Ellie had already been sat skyward. Sprawled at one leg and tucked at the other, arm in her lap, where her whiskey is nestled. “Oh, sure,” she says with a sarcastic edge. “Those kids are a bunch of little shits. They would probably interrupt me with fart jokes or make actual fart sounds than sit still and pay attention for thirty minutes.”

“Hmm,” you hum, short and atonal, peeling the corner of the plastic lid back. “And who do you think taught them those terrible jokes, huh?”

Soft lids narrow together to sharpen her gaze; glaring at your clever comment, lips propped slightly open. “Terrible?” An offended, toothy smile pulls on her lips. All sentences she could possibly muster up come crashing into each other; an agglomeration, “I—They aren't bad jokes—and they're puns, really, so they're actually pretty fuckin' smart,” she boasts with brows raised. “And It isn't my fault that every annoying kid picked them up and started repeating them.”

It most certainly is her fault. Hell, even you catch yourself reciting them at the crest of nightfall, giggling into your palm. Although, why she's trying so rigorously to plead her pun-enjoying case to you, might just be funnier. “Are you seriously trying to explain puns to me?”

“God,” she surrenders in a chuckle, and bows her head to introduce another quick sip to her parched lips. Ellie then eyes you for a blank second thereafter, tugging the plump of her lower lip through her teeth. Like contemplation has her hindered.

Around you, the lungs of the garage’s foundation inhale, and exhale; creaking and settling.

She dashes a huff. “You basically asked,” Ellie reminds you, her tone and eye-roll implying obviousness. “Can I eat my pancakes now? M'hungry.” Her face sutures into a pseudo-frown and encloses herself to a crisscross, impatiently behaving.

Now, as for the pancakes. Fluffy, biscuit brown, star-shaped, bountifully rivered in unrestricted syrup, topped off by a definitely-melted, humbled ingot of butter. Needless to say, you're pleased by what boredom and intact cooking-books taught you, and she hasn't even seen them yet.

The ask for a carryout-container was already in order the moment you set pace for her table, because you wound up in a near-catastrophe as she sought you out around the kitchens like a lost pup and maundered right into you. Thank patrol for instincts; it's the one thing you held an undying clutch to. And the sweet pancakes you proudly plated, making refuge on the counters as you cross-examined Ellie in case you injured her arm more.

Lucky girl was all fine and peachy, of course.

She only knocked you two right into that near-injury mess to invite you here. Persuasion sat readily in her throat incase you questioned her motives—most of her ideas turning out to be a little friend-group antic, never anything serious or singular—but you agreed to it in double-time.

“Think you might just be one of those kids at this point.” You gingerly tweak the rim of the plate you kept the pancakes on and lift it outside the container, planting it between all four knees.

“Eh, you're not so innocent yourself,” Ellie contends before she even casts her first peek at the hillock of starry sweetness, totally taken aback when she does. “Holy shit,” she awes, just as if she were a young teen again, “Are you kidding me?”

Labor-intended nights never slip soft through the gaps of your fastened fingers, not even days where your work period is abridged, but hey, strange, space-brain girls are far beyond ordinary exception. Hell, Ellie is vital! Commemorating the red angel you worship in the patterned and soapy act of cooping up on her bed, toasting to the moonlight and letting her talk your ear off for old times' sake is your approach to telling her you love her.

“Know I'm not a pancake-connoisseur, but I gave it a unique whirl. Just for you.” You held a fork out, gracing her with first honors. “Don't blame me if it gives you a stomachache,” your forewarn is a doubtful one; in your mind, morningtime will arise with an extra punch to her gut.

Ellie, however, stares right into the baying eyes of a challenge, snatching the fork from you. "Hey, if it's good enough for my tongue, then it's good enough for ma' gut!" and promptly after exclaim, gashes and tears her fork into the sweet, airy texture of the pancake, popping it past her sweet, berried lips. “Mhh—and I will blame you. So you end up feeling sorry n'take care of me.”

God, whatever souls you would sell to spend paradisal afterlife with this fool. Talking with a gob flush of the birthday project you're humiliated to be proud of. You scoff, “Asshole,” lightheartedly scornful as can be, and it snaps something to mind. Head tilting eye-to-eye, “Dina wouldn't be the one to?” you ask, right after she swallows.

That particular question seemingly struck a chord as her brows cinched together, eyes dropping with allusion. “No,” she says meekly, soft in the sound, but you can tell it came up heavy. Shadowed by a sigh, and an untimely chuckle. “Do you want to know?” She throws on a shrug that ripples through her head, sending it to hang lopsidedly. As the stout willow grows.

“Guess so,” you agree temperately, not wanting to seem too eager—even though with this topic, you just might be. Camouflage those old, foul feelings of envy. “Did Seattle have you kicking more ass than just Wolves and infected? Couldn't have been a very romantic tr—”

“Dina's pregnant.”

Silence carves it's way after that. Thick, tense and unyielding. You had words lined up but like a shot in stark night they've just—vanished, sunk back into the chamber. Nothing prepared you to hear that, “Pregnant?” lowering a hand to your belly where you swear your heart has pummeled to.

Ellie glances up, once at your widened face and once at your hand. A bite of humor works it's way above her chin; smugly smirking. “God, don't tell me you're pregnant now too.”

“What? No!”

Damn idiot. Should punch her right in the—nevermind.

Ellie is way too quick to make serious things unserious. “You're a damn menace,” you unapprovingly giggle.

“Am I?” Amusement raises her brows, tearing into the pancake with her fork for another bite. “Cause you seem to like menace.”

You adjust onto propped elbows, “Do I?” playing all nonchalant. “I mean, what do you mean by that?” your voice dims, expending for the small space that separates you and her.

“Mhh,” she contemplates with a purring sound, and shrugs. “Dunno.” Ellie retreats those eyes downward where you won't compel her to smile. You can tell she battles the letch to look up again, which—as proven in her case—doesn't fucking work. She shoots up carefully, and it's a conflicted gaze this time. “Not with Dina anymore, though. That’s the other thing.”

And we're back.

Having reconciled the chance, you retrace. Look at her with somber concern. “Did something between the two of you happen?” It's a gentle question, reinforced by the bulletproof stare you offer her to unwind in.

The air in her voice softens, “Sort of,” and the meridians of your body then become easier to look at as she continues, wrinkles in her brows. “Said some things I shouldn't have, and we.. figured it best to leave it at that. For now.” her explanation sounds desolate and attemptless, like she has sat in shadow and vigil accepting this fact and has given up on hope. Crestfallen and quieter; this isn't like her. Bent at her wrist, dangling that glass above her crisscrossed lap like a sad child pokes at the food on their plate.

“For now?” You hate that you pry, but that sick greed in your gut from times before haunts with a hunger for knowledge. Your envy that is enlightenment. Still, you hesitate to seem nosy, wanting nothing than to possibly just console your friend in need. “What's holding you back from.. calling it quits? The pregnancy?” You crane your body upright slowly.

“Just still feelin' bad.” Her fingers begin a tap-dance at the glass' rim. “I'm an asshole.”

You duck at the neck, searching for her downcast eyes. “Come on, El. I've only ever seen you rant and rave at middle-aged grumpy men and infected, no way it was that bad.”

“You weren’t there,” she insists otherwise with an earnest voice, inciting a refreshed sigh as she swigs her whiskey.

“Well, what did you say?” You are relentless. No, normally you would not condone it, but tonight, tongues are loose and boundaries are blurry. You miss your happy girl. “I could talk to Dina, if it helps.”

“Wouldn’t change shit.”

“If you love her, you would try.” Even if it sickens you.

Ellie slots her drink in her lap, and grouches. “Dude.” She pinches the bridge of her nose and stifles a groan, frustrated. It draws out in words without proper footing, “It's weird. We just don't know what to say to each other—I don't know what to say to her, it.. it's just how it is—it was a mutual agreement. None of your business, really.”

Her own tongue is a very obvious byproduct of nerves, whiskey, stress, by and large a lot of things. Being goaded, definitely.

How it is, is how it will be.

“She broke up with me.”

You didn't mean to goad her, but curiosity—and a kiss of alcohol and envy—ate your refrain. The lack of any eye contact or movements to stray from you thereafter her word is telling enough. That it aches her head, and a cold, guilty sweat crosses over your skin. It was a stupid thing to blurt. You feel fucking stupid for even saying that.

Fuck.

Her dry sniffle is noisy on your shortcoming, and has you scrambling to think. “Sorry, just been worried for weeks.” But you shrink into a ball of abraded arms and legs, conserving yourself into a shy, spotted egg of curiosity that clads no hatching cracks to be convicted of. “Thought you two finally getting together would be the dream to end all dreams.” What the fuck do you know anyway?

Her eyes watch through you, into you like water; she notices, and the pancakes are slid to the side. Shuffles of fabric clamber closer as she eats the inches between you two, her breath brushing your forehead. “Hey, hey. I didn't mean anything by it. It's fuckin' great that I got somebody I can drink with and mope to. Really. Just been shitty all around—Tommy? Fuck, he's been the worst lately.”

Everything ascends in temperature once her hand plants on the side of your neck, every nerve petrifies; unheard-of touch. She can feel the gasped tension in your throat, thumbing the muscles down.

“Don't worry about it,” she says, and her saying that amuses you.

A moth-eaten phrase in particular is what was said. You scoff at it, plopping your legs back out. “Dude.” You bite a smile into your lips. Sucks that such a hackneyed thread of words does so; you're really chewing back the urge to call her any byname of dumbass, per usual. But damn that sincere face on her face that sweetens the teasing deal for you. You settle for low-hanging fruit. “You always say that, Ellie.”

“Ugh,” she seconded a scoff back at you, grimacing coyly. “Don't you start.” Ellie drags her hand off, not intending for it to land smack-dab on your thigh. It takes her a second to register the sound, the texture, slinking her hand behind her when you say nothing.

“Start what?” you stutter a laugh, bringing your thighs together.

“Nothin,”

“Don’t bullshit me, WIlliams.” To educe her, you dig your foot into her side, poking her. “Does it have anything to do with only me being here and not anybody else?” You lean into her.

Ellie does too, an exact mirror of you. “No..” The only thing that contrasted you, was her hand again, seeking what was left behind on your thigh. “Just wanted to see you first,” her lips barely move besides a slick smirk. Voice tiptoeing through the air, the noise-level two clandestine lovers live at, in secret song.

“You fuckin liar. No hang-outs for weeks before you left and suddenly you want to see me?” You call bull when she relucts to raise her hung head, witnessing the corners of her lip curl. Her head twists away more, and you spearhead the first, little move: tuck that irkful strand of auburn with a single finger. “C'mon.. what is it?”

“Stupid,” she blatantly spits, and at last confronts your face with her puckish one—glimpsing down, and up, and down. Watching her grip flex into your leg intermittently, chewing her lip. “Mhh, maybe 'm starting it.”

Ellie is heart-poundingly close; her breath is now yours to breathe. You whisper, “Maybe you are,” perking yourself right up to her cheek, unnoticing of the ardor her eyes spin over your face. Unsure where to stare. You pretend the pressure on your thigh flies under the radar, too, and that your heart isn't in the middle of a love-logged swell, and your cheeks aren't tender from smirking at the feeling of it perched there. Love-struck death befalls, if else confessed, so you tease, tease, and tease to stomach your excitement. “Maybe, you're stalling on those pancakes because they actually gave you a stomachache. You feeling good?”

Her bitten lips part, and the next sensations you feel—are transcendental.

Wisping whispers so hot, and intoxicating on your skin, you fail to catch her hand coming up from your thigh to clasp your face, or that hers has shifted in front of yours. She breathes out, “Won't you shut up already?” through lips pulled into a smirk, and rushes to press it fondly against your mouth.

You wince—somewhere between an electrified gasp and a reaction of delight—into the kiss she stole, and it only beckons her to starve more for you. The heat of her whiskey breath pours into your mouth, and you drape your eyes closed. Scoring these seconds by, she spends them concentratedly rolling the skin together, others pushing and shying from the kiss, until she stills and bleeds out the pressure in a slow, wet smack. Hazily eyeing you for a response.

Once you feel her no more, your eyes blurrily creak open, and the corners of her lips at soft upturn greet you. Single creases at either side, the few freckles above them outspread.

Judgement renounces you, leaving you with pathetic pickings for reply. You aren't sure what she wants—or needs you to say. “Ellie?” daintily, a mumble flows onto her lips, and is far from a frail sound of concern. Intrigue encapsulates you.

What does this mean?

You think you know, but self-reason has always proven itself to be naive and too eager to trust.

By cruel emotion, she misunderstands you. “Sorry,” she pants out breathlessly, blowing the shape of it into your cleft lips and hovering right upon. Her fingers gouge the fabric clothing your chest, mangling it into her fist—an attempting grasp. This proximity is all she could ever dream of. “Is this okay?” Yet, dreams always sever at the apotheosis. So when she comes in for the second kiss, she wants no more for dreaming; the reality she yawns with hunger into, is insurmountable.

A dewdrop of something cold dribbles between you. Tears.

In turn, you misunderstand her. Using your own stubbornness to create an enigma. To think, that out of the blue, all of this would transpire? After endless wishes unanswered? You doubt it.

You love her, but you refuse the reality of it happening upon you.

Separating from the plush, licked skin of her lips fleetingly, you speak. “Is this you being drunk?” Only to be drawn back in without her processing your words right away, and then drawn back out. Intricate intimacy.

“Please,” Ellie begs, “Answer me, before I feel like an asshole again,” and chuckles sobbingly before her teeth feel rapaciously empty, and cannot tolerate it any longer. Instinct, and teeth nip your bottom, vulnerable lip.

Neither of you could be totally drunk, having only drank a modest portion.

So this is raw.

Thinly pulled, she slowly stretches it across the air between, and watches it spring back beneath eyelids sunken low. The action entails nothing else for her to feed satisfaction from, already panting right in your mouth in search of more as soon as your tongue descries the answer. “More than okay,” you heave in a passioned breath along that all-consuming, deprived mouth. Your hand squeezes her fist confirmingly.

It quenches her lust to know, a hot-blooded, moaned and voiceless curse snapping into your mouth. “I fuckin' love you.” Her rage softens in meeker kisses, peppering them up to the corners of your lips until she pauses, and pulls herself away. Her eyes turn troubled and adrenaline-rushed. Stains of tears shimmer beneath, along new ones that begin to plunge, and for the first time ever, you know they're yours. But then the flesh between frowns, the mood shifting, and she croaks, “Am I.. an asshole?”

It breaks you to hear that.

You glare, and stammer, “W-What? You aren't.” Hooking dearly onto her wrist when her hand glides up to rest against your cheek. “Why?”

“Cause I sprung this on you, 'nd I don't wanna force you to..” Ellie cranks to a halt, mouth screwing shut like her thoughts were too much to bear hearing aloud. “Fuck,” she quietly spews, cowering her face near your neck.

“Said it was okay,” you coo, clarifyingly coo, raking your fingertips up and through the tied loops of her hair. “The only asshole thing you'd ever done was not let me come with you.”

“I know.” Her eyes search for uncomplicated plains. The sheets, her lap, your neck. A kiss is planted as she tips her head, the gust thereafter a warm reminder of her sorries.

“Thought you were going to die.” You awoken in violent patterns, cold nights restless in bed, tossing and turning. Waking and falling into daydreams of how Jackson would feel missing a cardinal component. A girl to rave against dying lights. Thorns scale your throat at the thought. “You're reckless, y'know?” you mean it as a gentle insult, chuckling as it leaves your lips, and sealing it into her scarred palm. Kissing reckless consequences.

Her lips loiter on the pulse of your throat. They drag, and they drag.. sloppily limping over your jaw as she makes her way to observe you in her palm, mumbling low, and gravelly, “How many times am I gonna have to say it?” Ellie deems it redundant to tell you that she knows again, resorting to her own little gentle insult, “Such a fuckin' sap.”

“Says you.”

Her hand is comfortingly warm; you aren't fain to break away. But her fingers are curious, thumb nearly making it into your mouth before she second-guesses herself, easing it at the verge of your lips instead.

A longing moment of Ellie staring at the way her thumb looks—a decoration to your mouth—passes, and she responds, “Still alive, aren't I?” to that loose thread of a plea you forgot you even said. It calls you right over, bidding you to look into her eyes again as space finds itself thinning again, her scratchy, band-aided nose caressing yours. “Dumbass.”

She chuckles into your mouth as you chuckle into hers, cutting yourself off with a kiss that ebbs, and flows. Suckles, and smacks, snaking her tongue in for a change. That sweet, sweet wheat. Saccharinity you can't explore anywhere else other than the outline of her mouth. And you—of grunted volitions in her chest—take exploration further, replacing the grasp of her shoulder with the coursing of fabric, sliding under the hem of her shirt and palming the skin there.

You feel her skin breathe, her belly breathe into your hand, and a content wrinkle pinch between her brows. Her skin, is as soft as nothingness.

“You're a dumbass.”

Air clings to your cheek as her hand reaches around you, pressing fingerprints into the base of your head as to prop you for her delightments. Ellie is no amateur, enjoying you as if she knew you were hers without explicit pledge.

“Sure, babe,” she scoffingly counters, and pulls her tongue out of you, lips messiy shining. She scouts you out; lays eyes on your expression with undertones of satisfaction and presses an appetent bite right back into your damp skin, grunting into the filthy kiss.

Your mind is one-pathed right now; in the most maddened form, you crave the story further down her throat. In that warm space, is air thinned and balmy with the scent of alcohol and syrup. In those whimpers, is the sincere confession she held tight in throatly gloaming, all those intimate times before. In all of your yearnings, your lips never parted for more.

Two holes that want to consume each other.

Weeping, wailing, tormenting in an empty forever.

“Fuck you, Ellie,” you cathartically sob into the humid cavern of her, a hint of wanton—and other repressed things, taking form. That hand under her shirt wanders from her navel and tweaks the button of her jeans, pressing your body against all of her like it hurt to be inside your own, singular body. Overcame by a need you could not chew out.

Ellie cuts the kiss, quick to soothe the movement with her hand pressing down and collecting yours. “Hey, hey, too fast,” she laughs, distancing herself and giving you those eyes that could see you were overstrung, hectic to go somewhere you aren't prepared for.

She loves you, but that means appreciating you enough to wait until time is perfect.

Her head cocks, “Let's take shit slow, huh?” fingers weaving into the pliant gaps of yours and pulling your fist dear to her chin, kissing it.

You speak over the repeated sounds of her smooches, “Yeah, sorry,” cringing slightly at how fucking cheesy the scene became. But, when is Ellie not? Wonder clasps you now; intent to know what this makes out of the two of you, having held your feelings for forever. “Well, what does all this mean, then?”

“It means..” Ellie slants her body even more, stealing your wrist along with her. Planning something, no doubt. “You and me, breakfast tomorrow at ten, Tipsy Bison?” Her mouth stuck to the side of your hand like syrup, so firm in not letting you go.

It makes your ears simmer hearing her shamelessly set up a date, of all things she could have said. God. You errantly laugh, totally not giddy when her mouth starts sprinkling up your arm at an alarming pace. “Sounds more than good—hey! You slow down!”

Happy birthday, asshole.

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radiosteve · 1 year ago

Text

I Knew You

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

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

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

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 30.5k (I got carried away)

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drunk under a street light

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A friend to all is a friend to none

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chasing shadows in the grocery line

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

And you’d come back to me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You put me on and said I was your favorite

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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madridnoora · 6 days ago

Text

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Forbidden - Homecoming

Fifth instalment of the forbidden au - lsu!joe x oc

Instalments - one, two, three , three.two and four ౨ৎ

a/n: thanks for all the love on this au! I'm going to be writing some shorter blurbs about Joe and Daisy, so if you guys have any requests or asks feel free to inbox me :)

Summary: Joe accidentally breaks rule number two, and people on campus begin to question his and Daisy's relationship which leaves Daisy feeling angry and embarrassed. The LSU Homecoming football game against Florida creates more than one surprise for Joe.

⋆｡˚ word count: 13.0k

18+ Content. MDNI :). Mentions of drinking, smoking and sex. ⋆｡˚

Pale laptop light illuminated the dark room as Daisy sat at her cluttered desk typing away on a political science paper. A clicking sound meshing with the subtle heartbreak playlist that was playing from her phone. It was Wednesday night. Three days since she got back from Austin and she had spent it hiding away in her dorm room.

Cardigan by Taylor Swift came on shuffle. Daisy sat back in her chair, taking a break from the words she furiously typed on the painfully bright white screen. Since seeing Lucas, she felt almost heartbroken again. It was like seeing him had confirmed that they were done, that the last six months of her life were real and that she had in fact lost the one person she had ever loved.

When you are young they assume you know nothing.

It was to describe the complicated feelings that twisted at the organs inside her torso. She felt over Lucas but that in itself was enough to make her feel a cutting sorrow. One that banged at her chest with a deep pulsing pain. Seeing him on that field was like saying goodbye to her teenage self. It was like shutting the chest and locking it with a key, then throwing it in the ocean never to be opened again. That part of her and her life that she once loved now only existed in memories. She was mourning it.

Drunk under a streetlight, I knew you

Hand under my sweatshirt, baby, kiss it better

The memories weren't all bad. Lucas and Daisy had a complex relationship, one which took place over some of the most important years of growing up. They were just kids. Kids who were learning how to love, learning how to make mistakes and correct them. In the end, the bad outweighed the good, but that didn't mean the good never existed.

Daisy thought about the times they would dance around in the street after sneaking out to be together. The times they shared when no one was looking and it was only them. Sweet delicate kisses that always felt like the first. The fast beating heart that came with doing things for the first time. She lost her virginity to him. She reminicised on the innocence they had shared with each other, the way Lucas' hand was lightly shaking as he felt under her sweatshirt for the first time. A small smile found itself drawn upon her dry lips.

With a good memory, came a bad one. A way of her brain protecting herself from getting too carried away in romantic thoughts.

Chase two girls, lose the one.

Daisy had always heard rumours about Lucas with other girls. Mostly when they were fifteen. She could excuse that. They were both young and stupid, each of them doing childish things which they regretted. Once they matured, she never heard a single other rumour. Until he went to college. Then they came back. Rumours of him hooking up with girls at frat parties or with the Longhorns cheerleaders. She heard them from mutual friends from high school, people who went to the same college as Lucas. When she would bring it up, he would shut her down defensively. He would shout and scream about her lack of trust, and how she was letting jealous people tear them apart. A small part of her always knew that the rumours were true, but her heart wouldn't let her believe it fully. Her heart wanted to believe her first love. Her heart told her he could never treat her the way people were saying he did. So she stayed. She stayed for way too long. She would have stayed even longer if he never ended things. Maybe breaking up with her was the most loving thing Lucas had ever done.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars, was all we needed.

You drew stars around my scars, now i'm bleeding.

Every thing was so much simpler before they went off to separate colleges. All they needed was each other and no one else in the world mattered. He would make her feel special when no one else could, he would nurture her when she was sick, he would attend every cheer or dance competition he could. She would spend vacations with his family, she would be at every football game, every practice. They would have done anything for each other.

A wet droplet rolled down her warm cheeks. Tears bubbled in her eyes, now threatening to spill uncontrollably.

I knew you's haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long.

She thought about how things would have been if she never came to LSU more than she should have. She got into University of Texas, and it's statistically a better school but it didn't feel right in her gut. Her dad was an LSU graduate and her grandpa. Something in her stomach pulled her to LSU, like it was a magnet and she was metal. Lucas was the most angry she had ever seen him, he didn't speak to her for four days after she told him. He punished her with the cruel silence.

Maybe the whole thing was her fault. Had she have gone to Texas, Lucas wouldn't have been cheating, he wouldn't have got annoyed at her so much, the distance wouldn't have been an issue and they could have been happy. She ruined it.

The what-ifs would haunt her for the rest of her life.

What-if she stayed. Would it be different? or was breaking up always the fate that was written for them.

Tears poured from her eyes as she let herself feel the emotion. She needed this, she needed to let it all out. One last cry at the funeral of her old self.

I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired.

and I knew you'd come back to me, you'd come back to me.

Her last thoughts remained on what happened on the field. When the final whistle blew and Joe led LSU to a convincing defeat over Lucas and the Longhorns.

Joe didn't tell her what Lucas had really said. But Justin told Bella.

Bella told Daisy on the flight back.

'and Lucas was all like 'keep your fucking hands off my girlfriend' Bella told her the full explicit details with a lighthearted laugh. Daisy didn't find it funny. It was worse than she expected.

girlfriend.

She hadn't been that in a long time, yet he still claimed her like a possession. Even after it all, his hands lingered over her shoulders holding onto her like a lantern he couldn't let drift into the night sky. He held her down while every one else around her was able to float and fly. Chained her to his grasp.

Did he really miss her or did he miss being in control of her?

Her heart wanted to believe he missed her, but her head now outweighed those feelings. He just wanted control over her. He came back but only for the benefit of his own ego.

She should have known he would.

Lucas was no longer the boy she fell in love with and she was no longer the girl that loved him. They were dead, existing only in past lives.

Daisy took the sleeve of her jumper and wiped away her tears.

She needed this. One last big cry.

Then she broke the chain. The one which had been keeping her tied down and tied to him.

She was free to float.

and their story ended.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

Daisy and Bella sat on the grass of campus, soaking up the midday sun. Bags of lays chips, bottles of diet coke and fruit were spread around them as they enjoyed a picnic in their long lunch break. Neither of them having anymore classes for the day.

Daisy had been telling Bella of the new found closure she had experienced last night, how she had woken up feeling like a woman who was ready to take on the world. Bella told Daisy all about the double date she and Cassie went on the night before. It went pretty bad from Daisy's understanding. The guys were not anything like the pictures and also had absolutely no personality. Cassie and Bella had to beg the kitchen staff to let them leave through the back entrance just so they could get away.

'you should go on a date' Bella said nonchalantly and Daisy almost spat out her diet coke. She shook her head profusely. Daisy didn't date, she didn't go on dates, especially with people she had never met before. The whole idea of it made her skin crawl.

'come on, you're single! why not.' Bella tried to convince her.

'nope' Daisy was firm.

'I'm gonna set you up. I just need to find the right guy' Bella ignored Daisy's plea's and begs. Bella was going to set Daisy up with someone, she just had to take a week or two to figure out the right guy. Conduct thorough research and come up with a hypothesis on a man that would be perfect for Daisy.

Daisy went back to her lays chips and crunched them with annoyance until a shadowed figure blocked out the sun.

Both the girls turned to see who it was.

'heeyyyyyy!!'

It was Jada. Daisy breathed a sigh of relief.

'oh my god, hi!' Daisy stood up and greeted her with a warm embrace.

Jada was the captain of the LSU cheerleading team and a good friend from freshman year, one Daisy had been neglecting since the whole quitting cheer and football world.

'I haven't seen you in so long, you look so cute' Daisy held on to Jada's shoulder she looked her up and down. Jada was beautiful, like stupidly beautiful. Her skin so smooth it looked fake, her body built in the most insane way, her hair so curly and volumous, never once had she seen a hair out of place. She was always picture perfect.

'you too! i've missed you so much daisy dukes.' Jada's nose crinkled up as she sounded out the sweet nickname Daisy hated but could never shake. Everyone called her it, except from Cassie, Bella, Justin, Ja'marr and Joe. Most people from high school and back home just called her dukes. She had it coming the summer in tenth grade when she decided to wear nothing other that tiny denim shorts.

'sit. sit' Daisy said pointing the grass.

'okay, just for ten minutes. I have to get ready for practice'

The three girls sat once again on the pale dry grass. Small talk coming from each of them, all catching up about what they had been doing over summer and how the beginning of sophomore and senior year for Jada had been going. Then Jada says something that causes Daisy to stumble and spiral over words and thoughts.

'weird question, are you and joe burrow like hanging out?'

'NO' The word comes out of Daisy's mouth way to quick and way to strongly. Bella side eyes her with a furrowed brow of both concern and confusion. She hadn't forgot about the way Joe reacted to seeing Daisy and Ja'marr dancing in the bar and now this. Something was going on and Daisy wasn't telling her.

'I mean, uh' Daisy clears the nervous lump in her throat. 'We like spoke at a party a few weeks back'

Jada nods her head.

'Why'd you ask?' Daisy quizzes.

'Oh nothing. He like messaged three of the girls from cheer asking if they knew who you were and what your last name was' Jada said as she swatted a hand through the air like it was a nothing statement.

But it wasn't.

Daisy's heart dropped to her stomach. God, how fucking embarrassing. Her old teammates getting spammed by Joe because he wanted to know her last name. Could he be anymore obvious? Now she knew how he really had found her instagram, she had just assumed he had asked Justin like a normal person would. He was such an idiot. Vexation crawled through her veins.

Bella watches Daisy's reaction and what's happening is clear. She would wait until Jada left to bring it up.

'One other thing' Daisy looked to Jada.

Jada's got a nervous smile on her face and it makes Daisy start to feel queazy.

'Erm. I need you.' huh. Jada scratches her back briefly.

'It's the homecoming game next week and all my flyers are either injured or away on a class trip out of state. You're my only option.'

Not a chance. Daisy's face drops in almost horror as she realises what Jada is asking from her. She wants her to step in and cheer at the game next week. Daisy shakes her head quickly and lifts up a finger wagging it in the air.

'No, no. absolutely not'

'Daisy please' Jada gives her best puppy dogs and prayer hands begging her to consider it. 'you were like the best flyer we had. Please. I'll forever be in your debt'

Daisy can't even bring herself to consider it. There was no way she was ever stepping back on a football field to cheer again.

'Nope. I'm sorry Jada, but I can't. Hold some auditions and I'm sure you will find someone good enough' Daisy looks at her friend with sympathy. She felt bad. Homecoming night was the biggest night of the season for them. All the old alumni come to watch but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She didn't want to do it. It was too soon.

'Okay, well it was worth a shot' Jada packs up her things and stands up. The ten minute conversation now over. 'It was nice seeing you Daisy dukes, and you bells'

Daisy and Bella wave goodbye to her.

Bella glares at Daisy.

Daisy's eyes dart around trying avoid the death glare. She felt like a dog that had been found guilty.

'Sleeping with burrow' Bella kisses her teeth and shakes her head. Daisy's cheek flush a crimson red.

'Wow. It's sick truly. Sex with the number one quarterback and head frat boy' Bella continues torturing Daisy.

Daisy brings both her hands over her face and groans a loud groan. Bella is loving watching her squirm.

'God. I know, I know' Daisy says still into her hands.

Bella bursts into a laugh. She pulls Daisy's hands from her face.

'Reeelax. I'm kidding. I think this is good for you. To get out and have fun, as long as it's just sex'

'just sex' Daisy confirmed with a tight lip.

'Actually speaking of him, I need to go see him now' Daisy is reminded of the little texting stunt Joe pulled. Bella nods with a shrug, letting her know she is free to go ahead.

Daisy grabbed her stuff and rushed in the direction of the frat house he lived in. Since they last slept together, Daisy had ignored three of his texts, each one asking if she was up or telling her to come round. She had been hiding herself away in her dorm room in Austin, avoiding the world around her.

But now was done hiding.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

The front room of the frat house was a mess of food wrappers, beer bottles and dirty dishes. The smell was starting to sour, but they were oblivious to it.

Frat brothers sprawled across the stained brown sofa's, half of them taking rips from a bong. Joe sat on the other end next to Ja'marr and their housemate Matthew. They watched as some other brothers played Fortnite on the television screen, all while scrolling on their phones. Some of the brothers talked about the recent girls they had been hooking up with, some talked about classes and some spoke about sports. All of them in a chill state, lazily spending the day doing nothing.

The dramatic slam of the hefty dark wood front door causes them all to jump.

They hear footsteps on the wooden hallway walking towards where they're all sat.

They all look at each other with panicked eyes, none of them knowing who was coming. The boys smoking rush to hide the bong behind the sofa and frantic hands try to waft the smell away.

They hold their breaths.

Every single eye looking at the corner that opened up to the living room.

Their jaws hang ajar when they see who it is.

Daisy.

Her face is scowled. A piercing glare directed at only Joe. Her arms folded across her chest in dismay.

Every other boy in the room looks at Joe. Rule two wasn't exactly going well for the little situation Joe and Daisy had going on. Every single member of Joe's frat and football team knew he and Daisy were hooking up. Joe had to make sure they all knew she was off limits.

Joe keeps his blue eyes on her, and her only. It had been days since he last saw her and she had been ignoring his messages. But now here she was, stood in the front room of his house looking so delicious, even with the grimace look on her face. He didn't know what he had done and he didn't really care all that much. She didn't intimidate or scare him, instead he found the whole tough girl thing she had going on cute.

He checks her out with a arrogant smirk. She's wearing a cropped navy blue striped t-shirt with the neck hem cut so it sat off the shoulder. It exposes a white lace bra strap and a collarbone which looked oh so kissable. On her bottom was a familiar distressed denim miniskirt, the same one she had been wearing when they first met. Her tan legs were bare, some simple nike trainers on her feet. When Joe meets her eyes again she some how looks even more angry.

'are you fucking serious?' Joe is taken aback by her violent words. The boys in the room all hold their breaths, Ja'marr tries not to laugh by covering his mouth and looking at a blank spot on the wall.

'what' is all Joe can get out as his holds his hands up defensively.

'rule two' Daisy uncrosses her arms and places her hands on her hips.

Joe lets out a scoffed laugh and puts his hands out in a questioning manner. He had no idea what she was talking about, he hadn't told anyone he didn't need to.

The frat boys are eating up every aspect of the situation. All of them eating fake popcorn as they watch the argument unfold.

'messaging the whole of campus trying to find my instagram. I've got girls from the cheer team asking me about you, about us.' Daisy spits in exasperated breaths.

A crowd of 'ohhhhhs' and 'ahhhhhhs' sound out from the frat boys around them as Joe had just been exposed in front of them. Ja'marr no longer holds in his laugh, instead he's slapping at his knee in hysterics. Although Joe was his best friend, it was nice to see him get humbled every once in a while.

Joe sits still amongst the now chaotic room. He had asked the cheer girls if they knew her before he ever knew she was on the cheer team. He never thought his desperation to find her instagram would come back to bite him. But here it was, biting him...hard.

Joe doesn't even know how to respond, because quite frankly there is nothing he can say to make the situation better. All he can do is try to save face and dignity in front of his frat brothers and teammates. He goes coolly nonchalant and joins his friends in laughing about the situation.

'my bad, sweetcheeks' He offers her a glance and a shrug before he goes back to the egotistical grin he often wore.

'you're so insufferable sometimes' Daisy says coldly causing the room to quiet and Joe to look back at her.

She turns around and Joe thinks she's leaving, but she doesn't.

Instead, Daisy starts to walk over to and then up the grand staircase. The staircase which leads to where Joe's bedroom is. He gulps, the bottom of her ass cheeks just slightly peeking out from under her short skirt. He feels the blood begin to rush to his crotch. He frowns when he realises all the other boys are looking at her as well.

'look t'fuck away' Joe growls at them as he stands up and rushes to follow her on the stairs. The boys listen, all of them darting their eyes back to the paused Fortnite game on the television.

Joe catches up to her and guides her into his room quickly with a forceful hand on her lower back.

His bedroom door slams.

'Turn the volume up' Ja'marr says to the rest of the boys as he points to the television.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

'What the fuck are you doing?' Joe quizzes her with a demanding tone while she places her bag on the floor of his messy room. LSU training clothes lay around every where, spray canisters of deodorant scattered over his desk. An Ohio state poster hanging crooked on his wall. He navy duvet crumpled up and unmade. Pillows in every direction.

'No. What the fuck are you doing?' Daisy snaps back at him, swirling around to face his frowning face. Joe's jaw is tightening as he huffs and puffs at the little stunt Daisy just pulled. Barging into his house, embarrassing him and then walking up the stairs with her ass out. Daisy's own glare of annoyance back and stronger than ever.

Joe marches close to her and pick her up under the armpit. She yelps out a shriek of surprise. Joe throws her onto his bed, climbing on top of her. Daisy moves the strands of hair that landed on her face from the force of the landing and when she opens her eyes again she meet's Joe's indigo ones. The look she came to be familiar with in his eye.

'You'

Joe presses his lips to hers quickly. Fours days was too long to go without his fix of her. Their sex was rough and fast paced, desperation clinging to every move he made, every kiss, every thrust. Every moan and grunt that passed through each of their lips was one that had been building up in the days they hadn't seen each other. Combined with the anger and irritation in the air between them, it made the sex intense and fiery. They fucked like they hated and loved each other at the same time.

They finished quickly but some how their orgasms were stronger than ever before. The elation and exhilaration more powerful than ever before.

Joe gets up from the bed first and throws her one of the t-shirts he has laying around on the floor. Daisy, once again cleans herself up. Joe watches as she wipes his seed from bare breasts, they bounce a little bit in response. He likes the sight. He likes her bare naked in his bed wiping him off her.

Joe grabs himself some clean boxers and throws Daisy her panties. He then rummages through one of his drawers and chucks something else at her. It hits Daisy in the face, she looks at what it is, holding it up in her hands.

A spongebob t-shirt.

She pulled her hands down, uncovering her face and looking at Joe.

'you can stay tonight' Joe says casually, not really focusing on her and instead setting up the playstation in his room, his eyes scanning for the television remote.

'What if i don't want to' Daisy quipped back with attitude.

'Then get your shit and leave, I won't stop you'

Daisy's eyes widened in disbelief and her mouth hung agape in shock. Joe's words were brutal. Brutal in the sense that they made it very clear he did not care what she did. Joe didn't care whether she stayed the night or left.

Daisy huffed. Reluctantly, putting on the silly shirt he had gave her.

Joe smiled. He clambered back into bed next to her with the remote and a playstation controller.

'knew you'd stay' a cocky jab flew from his lips as he loaded up Fortnite.

That night Joe and Daisy spent a quiet evening together, Joe ordered them so takeout food and played video games while Daisy worked on her paper in bed next to him. They didn't talk much, they didn't need to, the silence was a comfortable one. They did fall asleep beside each other. In the night, they got uncontrollably closer. Joe wrapped one arm over her waist. One he removed hastily before she could wake up and notice it come morning.

The next night she stayed over again, leaving before sunrise on Saturday morning as Joe, Ja'marr and Justin had an early morning flight to Nashville, Tennessee for a game against Vanderbilt.

The departure was an awkward one. Leaving in the clothes she came in two days ago while walking past frat guys still awake from a night of partying. Ja'marr, Justin and a few other teammates stood with their bags waiting for their quarterback to come down the stairs so they could head to the airport.

'Hey texas' Justin gave her a quick hug and she shyly nodded. She assumed Justin knew, but she hadn't been a hundred percent until he had seen them together.

'Joe, we're running late' Justin says with subtle dismay.

'Yeah, I know man, I overslept' Joe's excuse fell flatly, especially since they could hear his bed creaking in an early morning rhythm and Daisy was hot with rose tinted cheeks. Joe was late because of early morning sex and they all knew it.

'I'm gonna head.' Daisy's voice was unusually shy, and slightly raspy. She avoided the eye-line of all the boys, picking at the skin around her nails.

'Have fun' she said and offered a small wave as she turned to walk out of the frat house door. Ja'marr waved back and Justin nodded. The atmosphere was uncomfortable. Justin hated it. The thing between Joe and his friend was ruining his relationship with her.

'Later' Joe didn't even look at her when she left out the door. An unfazed act.

'Just because it's meaningless, doesn't mean you can't look at her when she says bye man' Justin's words are laced with ever so slight disgust for Joe's ungentlemanly actions. Justin picked up his bags and headed out to the cars waiting to take them to the airport.

'What's his problem?' Joe asked Ja'marr.

Ja'marr shrugs and follows Justin out.

They would return from Nashville on a late flight in the evening.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

Joe and the LSU football team beat Vanderbilt 66 to 38 in a dominant performance. Ja'marr was the standout player of the game, he caught six passes for 123 yards with two touchdowns. Joe had a heismann worthy performance again and threw for six touchdowns.

Daisy didn't watch the game. Just because she had closed the book on her previous relationship and attended a game this season, didn't mean she wanted to have anything to do with the football world.

She did hear about it though. It was all over social media.

She decided to send Joe a quick message. Nothing to personal or forward, just something casual, something friendly.

daisyymoore

nice game!

About an hour and a half later, she got a response.

@.Joeyb_9 sent you a message

thanks. plane just got in. meet me at my place at 11. Just walk in.

Daisy pondered the message. She had stayed at Joe's two nights in a row, if she stayed tonight it would be the third. That felt too personal, too involved, too not casual. She didn't want to find herself in a complex situation with Joe. It was meant to just be some fun, some fun that was forbidden. Joe was like her dirty little secret, and that was all.

She sent back a text saying she was busy and locked her phone.

Joe never responded.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

From Monday to Thursday of the next week nothing other than the boring usual happened. Daisy would attend class, Joe would attend training. Daisy hung out with Cass and Bella. Joe hung out with Ja'marr and Justin. Daisy would get a text from Joe, she would go round and they would hook up. One night she stayed, the other she didn't. The whole thing was becoming routine. It was beginning to become difficult to imagine the times when she wasn't having casual sex with the quarterback.

Now, it was Friday night.

Daisy, Bella and Cassie all snuggled up under a blanket with a bowl of sweet and salted popcorn watching the fourth episode of Vanderpump rules in a row. A half drank bottle of wine on the floor beside the one they already drank. They were taking mouthfuls every time Kristen Doute did something unhinged.

Being a nineteen year old girl was fun sometimes.

They're laughing at an episode when a knock on the dorm room door startled them. Daisy gets up to answer it with apprehension. No one ever knocked on the dorm room door, not unless it was with a noise complaint.

She clasped her hand around the silver door handle and pulled it open with caution.

Her brows furrowed. There was no one there, at least that's what she thought until she heard a desperate plea from beneath her.

'Please, I'm am coming to you because I have no other option, please Daisy'

Daisy's head turned sharply to the floor. Jada was on her knees doing prayer hands.

'This is the most important game of the season for me, please Daisy. As a friend if nothing else, please be a flyer.'

Daisy gaped in amazement as Jada begged and begged with wide puppy dogs eyes, ones which had panic drawn across them. She was desperate, more desperate than Daisy had ever seen anyone. On her knees humiliating herself all in the hopes of making Daisy change her mind.

'I've asked everyone and you're the only one who knows the routines.' Jada's pleading cries sound out once more. People in the dorm hallways beginning to watch on in confusion. Weird looks being given to both of them.

'I don't even train anymore' Daisy said.

'Yes you do. Coach sees you tumbling in the gym all the time' Daisy got caught out in her lie, it left her feeling bare and exposed.

She looks back to Cassie and Bella for guidance. Bella just shrugs but Cassie nods her head, telling her to do it. Maybe it's the wine she had drank or maybe it was the fact that her friend was in need of saving and she was the only one who could do it. Either way, she knows come tomorrow morning she will regret her decision.

'FINE. Fine. I'll do it, just get up of the floor' Daisy said grumpily. Jada jumped to her feet and smashed into her with a forceful, tight hug. Squealing sounds rang out from both Cassie and Jada. Cassie excited to once again see Daisy cheerleading.

'I'll ask Justin for them spare home game tickets. I have to see this' Bella said with amusement as she pulled up her phone and typed away quickly.

All of a sudden, the red wine begins to wear off and a sinking, sobering feeling manifests itself in the belly of Daisy.

What had she just agreed too?

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

It felt like a nightmare. Like it wasn't real, like it wasn't a choice she actually consciously made last night and that she would wake up at any moment.

But it was real.

She could tell it was real from the purple, yellow and white LSU cheerleading uniform that Jada had dropped off bright and early, along with gel, a comb and hairspray. It hung on the closet door and Daisy glared at it with squinted eyes. It had been almost a year since she last wore one, and she cursed herself for the fact she ever did.

Today was the stupid homecoming football game against Florida.

She felt like she was going to throw up.

Every single aspect of the day made her feel nauseous.

From having to get ready and do her hair just right, to meeting and mingling with her old teammates, some of whom she disliked, to actually having to perform on the field, to the inevitable moment Joe saw her on the sideline. Every single part of today made her feel faint, she just wanted to snap her fingers and have it be done, over with and never thought about again.

'I can do your hair, like old times' Cassie said cheerfully as she finished getting ready for the game herself, way earlier than she needed to be. Bella and her planned on joining in on the tailgate that took place before the game.

'Why did I agree to this?' Daisy groaned as she sat in the chair of her desk facing the mirror and began to do heavier makeup than she usually did.

'Because at one time, whether you believe it or not, you actually enjoyed it. Lucas doesn't have to ruin everything y'know' Cassie said as she began to slick back the top half of Daisy's silky brown hair. Her words make Daisy think about the times she was a cheerleader. It's hard to say she never enjoyed it because before college it was her most passionate hobby, but then she came to LSU and Lucas would always complain about her doing it so she ended up loathing it so much she quit.

I guess tonight she could find out whether she actually did hate it or if she had just been manipulated by an insecure ex boyfriend.

Once her hair and makeup was done, Daisy put on the tight uniform and looked in the mirror, her poms in her hand. She felt indifferent about the way she looked, she didn't love being in the uniform but she didn't hate it either.

'You look so pretty, Daisy. I'll see you at the game later, look for me in the bleachers' Cassie reassured and hugged Daisy, then Daisy left her dorm room to meet with her old teammates.

They had to get their before the game to run some routines and prepare for the fans arriving.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

Gunna blared through the speakers of Joe's car as he, Justin and Ja'marr headed to the stadium for the game. He felt ready, determined and fully prepared for the homecoming game ahead. Florida was a top ranked team in SEC meaning it could be a tough night, but he knew he could lead his team to a victory. He had spent hours and hours reviewing game footage and revising the playbooks.

'You know Bella asked me for two tickets last night. Cass and her are coming' Justin dropped the bomb as she scrolled aimlessly through instagram stories. Joe wasn't shocked that Daisy wasn't coming.

'How you feel about that qb? only girl at college who doesn't care about seeing you play' Ja'marr tries to wind Joe up again, thinking that if he kept trying enough Joe would eventually crack and admit that maybe it was something more than casual. But Joe wouldn't admit something that wasn't true.

'I don't care what she does outside of my bed sheets' Joe shrugged nonchalantly, with an air of arrogance. He wasn't lying either, for the most part. He didn't care what Daisy did, where she went or where she didn't go, as long as she wasn't hooking up with teammates, his frat brothers or other football players. He wouldn't miss her tonight, in fact he might not even message her to come over. He might scout for another girl in the after party they were throwing if they won. That seemed like a good plan, he didn't want to get too involved with her. He didn't want her catching feelings for him or anything.

Joe rounded the corner to the stadium and drove into the underground parking. Ja'marr looked out the tinted window of the backseat and saw a sea of people dressed in purple and gold in the distance. The pre-game tailgate already firmly underway. Chants happen in the distance and he can see the cheerleading team amping up the fans. Shakes of poms in the air, and signs which read 'geaux tigers' being broadcasted proudly.

'I got a good feeling about tonight' Ja'marr said as Joe parked up the car and they all made their way to the locker room.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

Purple figures started to fill up the bleachers of Death Valley. An hour before the coin toss was scheduled to take place. The atmosphere was charged with an electric anticipation, excitement seeming to hang in every breath.

The LSU football players ran out onto the field to a roar from the existing crowd, Florida ran onto the field with a subtle chorus of boos.

Joe runs throwing drills while Ja'marr and Justin practise routes. All of them coming together for brief moments to stretch out their muscles to avoid injury. Small talk encapsulates conversation. Until, Justin lets them know he was going to speak with Bella and Cassie briefly, just to 'make sure they found their seats'. Joe rolled his eyes as Justin ran down field. He didn't understand why Ja'marr would grill him about Daisy but left Justin alone when it came to Bella. Just because they weren't sleeping together didn't mean they weren't something more than friends.

More fans crammed into the stands of the vast stadium, a hyped music playlist rang around in the speakers. Cheerleaders were practising tumbling along the side lines, while others formed pyramids and did tosses in front of the crowd to get them pumped up for the match.

Joe and the team would always glance at the cheerleaders, they were typical young boys. Most of them members of fraternities, so when you put a bunch of girls in short skirts and tiny tops around them, they were always going to look.

Joe and Ja'marr checked them out. Eyes trailing to women up and down, most of them they recognised but some they didn't. Perhaps they were freshman who had been called up.

Ja'marr slapped Joe on the chest to get his attention. Joe's eyes lingered on a blonde cheerleader who was looking at him with a seductive smirk. He shot her a wink and watched at the blush crept up her cheeks. It could be her tonight.

Ja'marr backhanded his chest even harder. He was looking at something down field, someone standing out in a huddle.

Joe's eyes still remained on the petite platinum blonde girl. She was pretending to stretch, but really she was just giving the star quarterback a show in hopes of getting something more than his attention later.

Ja'marr whacked him once more, this time with enough force to take some of the wind out of Joe, even with all the padding on.

'WHAT MAN' Joe shouted in annoyance as his teammate breaks up the eye fucking he was doing. Ja'marr doesn't respond, his eyes just keep looking down field. Joe let out a disgruntled huff and let his eyes look to the sight that had his best friend so hypnotised.

'holy shit'

'gah damn' Ja'marr lets slip before rushing a hushed sorry.

There, stood in a huddle of other cheerleaders was Daisy and it was like everything was moving in slow motion. Like the world around Joe had paused and she was the only thing playing. The noise of the stadium was now only a dull ringing in his ear, the blonde on the sideline forgotten about in seconds.

Her hair is half up, slicked back and pinned behind with a small purple bow. The rest of it was cascading down her back in perfect curls. The light breeze of the warm Louisiana evening made strands float in the air around her. She brought a delicate hand to her face and swiped away a stray hair. A strange feeling pinches at Joe's stomach.

Olive skin glows under the warm floodlights as she talks with some boys dressed in the LSU mens cheer clothes. She laughing at something they're saying, nodding her head long with them and whatever they were saying. A pom filled hand rests on one of the guys' biceps. A different feeling rattles against Joe's ribcage.

Joe looks at what she's wearing. It's the same as everyone else on the cheer team but somehow she's wearing it differently. The tight purple skirt, which has a gold outline on the hem, clings to her body in different way, it stops on her thighs just below the end of her ass cheeks. It's tightness makes her ass look bigger than it ever had before. Joe swallowed. His eyes rake over her flat and toned torso, one that he knew all too well. Then they stopped on her chest. She was wearing a cropped purple top with a matching gold trim, one which has LSU written across in bold golden yellow lettering. Small diamonds dotted across the words. Once again, it clings to her chest snuggly, her small breasts more pronounced that they ever usually were.

Every moment is in slow motion. Thirty seconds plays like thirty minutes in Joe's mind. Never did he think he would see her here, in Death Valley, let alone dressed like that.

'Gator's incoming' Ja'marr says but Joe doesn't register it, all he can think about is how good she looked in purple.

Joe's jaw stiffens when he understands what Ja'marr meant. There were a few Florida players on their way into to tunnel and heading back to the away locker room. They should have just kept going but they didn't. One of them, a nobody, reaches out a hand and taps on Daisy's bare arm capturing her attention. Joe watches as they engage in a conversation, she's smiling at the nobody, exchanging words that were killing Joe. What did he want? What were they talking about? Why did he touch her? The conversation is over quickly, Daisy waving quickly as a goodbye to the swamp donkey as he runs off into the tunnel. The feeling is no longer just a pinch, it grasps at Joe's insides and twists them viciously. He raggedly breathed through clenched teeth.

Ja'marr looked at him.

'Don't say a word' Joe shot at him, his words stabbing sharply. They head off down into the tunnel themselves. The game would be starting in forty minutes.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

Daisy was talking with some of her friends on the team, discussing what had just happened. One of the gator players, who went to high school with her, had come up and said a simple 'hello'. The guy was in the grade beneath her and was on the football team with Lucas. Daisy had also happened to have been friends with his long term girlfriend all throughout high school. They just exchanged some small talk about how small the world truly was, how his girlfriend was and how college was going for each of them. The gator wasn't a starting player this season but he hoped he could be next year.

Her talking get's interrupted.

'you're looking nice tonight miss daisy!' a flirtatious chirp came from behind her.

She turned over her shoulder. Ja'marr's cheeky grin plastered across his face. She didn't think they had seen her, she thought there was a slim chance that maybe, just maybe, they would be so distracted by the game that they would have never known she was on the sidelines but alas, she was wrong.

Joe's in front of him, walking with his head down, one hand gripping his helmet by his side and the other gripping over the padding of his chest. Daisy looks as him after offering Ja'marr a sarcastic smile back.

Joe doesn't look at her, he only glances. He tilts his head up to where she's standing, their eyes meet for only a split second. His face was hard, locked in tense emotion and his eyes are cutting her sharply with a glare she had never seen from him. He continues walking into the tunnel, not saying a word. Ja'marr runs behind, following him. They left behind a confused Daisy, and some even more confused cheer teammates.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

The marching band vibrantly sounded out LSU's signature pre - game song while Daisy and her team performed a routine to the crowd. She could see Cassie and Bella violently waving at her with both arms, trying to get her attention. She can't help but start laughing at them.

Once the routine was over, the marching band had performed and the national anthem had been sang, it was time for the cheerleaders to line the tunnel exit where the football players would be running out from. She stood beside Jada and shook her gold and purple poms in sync with the rest of her team. Nerves clawed at her beating chest. Joe's glare had left her feeling anxious. He had never looked at her like that before, a look which held so much annoyance and disgust.

The trumpets sound, and the smoke begins to pour. The beating of cleats on the pavement turns to crunches on the grass as the players come barrelling out. They're hooting and hollering adrenaline filled fighting words. Daisy can't help but look for his number and his name on the jersey, but she doesn't spot him.

That's when she sees him emerge from the corner of her eye. Not running, or bouncing out the hallway, walking slowly out the mist of smoke. Helmet off, hanging by his side in his hand. Head held up high. An aura of self-confidence and courage swirling around. Daisy's eyes slightly widen, she had never seen this side of him, especially not this close up. The cocky and arrogant frat bro persona was no longer there, and a poised leader stood in his place. It was attractive.

Joe keeps walking but stops in front of where Daisy is stood, only for a brief moment. So brief, that many people wouldn't have even noticed it but Daisy did. Joe's eyes trailed up her body, up her purple uniform before he met her eyes and shot her a look. It was a look she couldn't make out due to how quick it came and went. A fleeting glance with unwritten words that she couldn't read.

Then Joe ran. He ran onto the field placing his helmet on his head and clapping his hands to rally his team. The coin was tossed and the game kicked off.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

The purple filled stands were noisy all throughout the game. The first two quarters were tough, Florida's gators convincingly going toe to toe with LSU's tigers. When the second half came, that changed. Once again, Joe Burrow gave a heismann worthy performance, the stand out moment being when he threw a 53 yard touchdown to the hands of Ja'marr Chase.

Joe remembers when he did it, when he let the ball go from the cannon known as his right arm. It spiralled through the air with force and might. An instant touchdown. The student crowd roaring in happiness, screams leaving their mouths in celebratory glee. His team celebrated down field but he was looking at only one thing; the jumbotron.

Daisy's smiley face flashed upon it.

Daisy had been on it a lot, cheering and pushing a fake cheesy smile. One which made the apples of her cheeks bunch up and her eyes gleam. To Joe, it felt like every time LSU did something it would cut to her. The camera lingering on her for longer than it should have, getting her from every angle it could. Every dance move or cheer, captured in high definition and broadcasted across the nation. Joe knew this happened, cheerleaders going on camera when LSU score points. It happened in every tier of football but tonight it felt more than ever.

Sometimes Daisy would wave to the camera, portraying a sweet and innocent all american girl act but Joe knew she wasn't innocent. Not when she was between his bed sheets arching for him, screaming out moans of euphoric pleasure.

'Why is the cameraman so close' Joe had groaned to Ja'marr after he spotted her on it again. His pale blue eyes darting to see the cameraman in person. It was just some scrawny student media personnel, one with brown thick rimmed glasses and charcoal coloured greasy hair. He was considering going and pushing him away from her, asking what his deal was, but he knew his deal. Clearly, the camera man liked the look of Daisy more than he liked the look of the other cheerleaders.

Joe kissed his teeth.

Cameramen, Football players, Nerds, Male cheerleaders.

Was there anyone Daisy didn't infatuate?

It pissed him off. Joe didn't like the idea of sharing her with others, not because he liked her but because he didn't like the idea of losing. If Daisy went and hooked up with some nerd from her class that meant that he was better than Joe, that's how his mind worked. Never in his whole life had he had a girl not begging to be with him. Daisy made him feel on edge, like their was always a chance he would just be her second choice. Joe wasn't second to anyone or anything.

But he had no right to stop her from meeting other people, just like she had no right to stop him. It was just sex, meaningless and casual.

The game ended LSU 42 - Florida 28.

That meant a party, one that Joe wasn't really in the mood to attend, but he had no choice. It was in his house after all.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

Multicoloured strobe lights flashed across the walls of the busy frat house. Heavy rap music boomed from the speakers with a shaking bass, beer pong was set up in the crowded dining room. Beer kegs littered across the deep wood floors. Drunk boys and girls lined every corner of the house. Weed stunk out the place, and vape clouds acted as make shift smoke machines. The kitchen table was crammed with various bottles of liquor, each other them half drunk as the celebration reached it's peak.

Joe was sprawled out on the couch, the petite blonde cheerleader from the field was sat on his knee. Her arm loosely laying around his neck and across his shoulders. Her name was Abby. Every few seconds, Abby would flick the poorly done extensions over her shoulder while she whispered sweet nothing's in Joe's ear, but Joe wasn't listening to or looking at her.

Daisy was standing on the edge of the dance floor, speaking with a guy. He had come up to her around forty minutes after she arrived and they hit it off. His name was Daniel. He was member of a different fraternity down the row of houses, but he studied animal sciences. Kind of a juxtaposition. He was sweet, different from most of the other frat guys she had met. She wasn't that attracted to him or anything but they were getting along really well, both of them sharing the same sense of humour. It was nice, pleasant to just be able to speak and get to someone new.

Joe's eyes narrowed on the interaction taking place. He'd been watching it since the guy first approached her. When he saw it first happen, he turned to his housemate and asked if he knew who the guy was.

'Daniel Kingston, plays lacrosse and lives a few frats down'

Joe grimaced and clicked his teeth in the sound of his disapproval. He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed another drink. As he did, he tried to catch Daisy's eye line, but it didn't work. She was too focussed on her conversation with Daniel. Her cheeks flushing as she let out a laugh.

Fine. Joe thought.

and that's when he set off into the crowd to find a play mate of his own. He saw the girl from the field and knew she would be an easy girl to please. A couple flirty exchanges and dark glances later they made it to the couch where they are now, but Joe can't seem to shake the gaze he has set on Daisy.

Dark eyes filled with irritation dance over her body. Joe looks at what she's wearing, no longer was she in the purple cheerleading uniform from earlier. She was in a small black pleated mini skirt, with a simple white cropped t-shirt. Some platform low top Dr.Martins on her feet, white socks poking out up to her ankles lined with a lace frill. He can feel the fabric around his crotch begin to tighten. He distracts himself by looking away quickly and taking another drink of his beer.

Daisy felt holes burning in the side of her body, she felt the lingering eyes of someone across the room. She took a break from her conversation with Daniel and turned her head to the direction they were coming from. She wasn't met with eyes. Instead, for the first time that evening, she saw Joe. He was laid back on the couch, taking a sip of beer and Daisy's old cheer teammate Abby was sat on his lap. Her head resting in the crook of Joe's shoulder, her hand stroking his arm. Her eyes for a brief moment widened in shock, not expecting to see the sight before her. She bit her lip, to hide any emotion from showing on her face.

Daisy couldn't tell how she felt. Joe wasn't doing anything wrong but it felt weird to see him with another girl. Daisy gulped and brought her own red solo cup to her lips, relief in the form of strong sweet liquor. A light burning sensation cascaded down her chest.

She glanced back at Joe. His hand was now rubbing on the thigh of Abby in a way that looked almost comforting, something more than just typical hook up behaviour. She drank another gulp, this time it was bigger than her last. Her green eyes still remained static on the couch.

Joe let himself look back to Daisy, only this time she was looking back. A light frown or a mild scowl was decorating her face. Daniel was still talking to her but it was clear she was no longer listening. Joe felt the smug smile creep back onto his face, his actions with Abby had effected her. Made her notice him and he liked it. He shot her over a wink. One which was cheeky, slightly cruel. He continued stoking the thigh of Abby and brushed some hair from her neck, planting a small peck. He did it just so Daisy would see. When he looked back to see her reaction, a momentary panic set it.

Daisy was no longer stood at the corner of the dance floor and neither was Daniel.

Joe shot up off the couch, ignoring Abby's whining voice asking him what he was doing or where he was going. She called for him to come back but Joe only one thing on his mind -- finding Daisy.

The room was dark, the strobe lights making faces only appear in brief flashes. Hands sway in the air as like a G6 by Far East Movement plays out the speakers. A frat party classic that had already been played multiple times. Slurred drunken voices shout out the lyrics as Joe tries to push his way around the crowd, looking in every direction for a five foot three brunette. His frustration growing and growing with every drunk person that gets in his way, at one point he gives someone a hard shove.

when sober girls around me they be actin' like they drunk

when sober girls around me they be actin'-actin' like they drunk

Every lyric that sounded out of the overplayed song only irritated Joe more. He couldn't see her, not over the stupid flashing lights and clouds of fruity vape smoke.

'Move, move out the fuckin' way' shouting as he pushed people.

He ran a stressed hand through his blonde hair, a sheen of sweat sticking across his tanned skin. The overfilled room creating an unbearably humid heat.

'yo man, y'good?' A hand grabs his bicep, he shrugs it off quickly before looking at the culprit. It's Ja'marr, a deep ruby red haired girl is clinging his his arm drunkenly. Lipstick smudged on her face and around Ja'marr's lips. Usually, Joe would have taken the moment to give Ja'marr a pat on the back, a silent well done for his hookup but he was in too much of a hurry.

poppin' bottles in the ice, like a blizzard.

when we drink we do it right gettin' slizzard.

'You seen Daisy?' Joe shouts over the loud music. Ja'marr shakes his head with a light shrug of his shoulders and a small downward turn of the mouth.

'Daisy Moore?' The red head shouted at Joe over Ja'marr.

Joe nodded quickly, not questioning how the red head knew her name.

'She's over there, near the kitchen' The red head pointed in a direction which Joe didn't hesitate to follow, once more working his way through the warm and sweaty crowd of intoxicated students. Thankfully, at six'four Joe was able to see over most of the crowd. His icy eyes scanning no longer in frustration but anger, an anger which intensified when he finally spotted her in the sea of people.

it's that 808 bump, make you put your hands up

make you put yo hands up, put yo, put yo hands up.

Daisy is hanging from the neck of Daniel. Close. Way too fucking close. Daniel's hands are on the small of her lower back, maybe even the top of her ass. It's too dark for Joe to make it out clearly. What he can see, is that their foreheads are almost touching and they're looking at each other as they bounce along and sing to the song.

Daisy pulls her arms from off the boys neck, putting them in the air while she presses her body against his. Slowing rolling her hips up and down. Joe watches as Daniel moves a hand from her ass and instead moves a stray hair from her face, looking longingly into her gleaming eyes. Joe knows what going to happen next, and he won't let it.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

The bright lights of the frat house startled party goers. The once booming music, now cut off at the source. Groans of displeasure and disorientation bounce around the house.

Some frat guy in a backwards cap and a Ralph Lauren three quarter zip stands at the top of the stairs with a bright orange megaphone.

'IF YOU'RE NOT A BROTHER OR WITH A BROTHER, GET THE FUCK OUT'

The party was over.

People rushed around, grabbing their alcohol and belongings from all over.

Daniel grabbed Daisy's hand and led her toward the large double doors at the front of the house. She followed coyly behind him. People stumbled past them, every one pushing their way out the doors as the frat brother on the mega phone told them to hurry up. Daisy kept her head down and looked at her feet, making sure she wouldn't stumble over herself while walking out.

When she stepped outside, the cool air hit her like a refreshing cold drink on a summer afternoon. Clean air filling up her second hand smoke filled lungs. She goes to take another step, still clinging onto Daniel's hand but the feeling of another hand on her forearm hits her like an electric shock.

Joe waited outside by the door to grab her. He saw her walking out behind Daniel as he gave her a hand to cling onto. How kind of him, Joe's sarcastic thoughts only served to piss him off more. He quickly grabbed onto her forearm and pulled her back in to the house.

It all happened so fast. Daisy was disorientated, not understanding what was going on. One minute she was following a new friend out of the frat house, the next she was back inside it by the tug from an unknown hand.

'Bro, she's min-' she heard Daniel's voice argue at the doorway.

'Stop fuckin' talkin.' She recognises Joe's voice and raises her head abruptly. She watches as he shoves Daniel out of the front door with such fierce force that he falls over. Then he slams it shut, a startlingly loud thud echoing in the empty house. Everyone else had left already.

Drunk frat brothers and their girls wobbled to different bedrooms rooms.

'Go to my room' Joe's not looking at her. His toned back, covered by the grey cloth of his t-shirt, still facing her. His tone was harsh, and commanding. His voice low and brooding.

'No' Daisy quietly chirps back, Joe's demeanour was intimidating. So intimidating, she wasn't sure if she wanted to fight him and his words in this moment.

Joe let out a long breath of frustration, his hand rubs over his eyes.

'Get up the fucking stairs now' His tone now somehow even more harsh, his words no longer only commanding but filled with a rudeness Daisy was not fond of.

'N.O...no' Her response is feisty, spelling out the word for Joe in the hopes he would understand it better.

Joe spins around, his muscular arms cross over his chest in agitation. First, she was flirting on the field with some gator football player, then she ignores him all night, then she decided she's going to leave his house with another guy and to top it all off, she was now refusing to do what she was told.

Daisy swallows a lump in her throat as she meets Joe's intense, burning gaze. The air around her being sucked away by an invisible vacuum.

Within a split second, she's in the air. Thrown over Joe's shoulders and he's marching them towards the stairs.

Ja'marr snickers from the couch where he and the red head are sat cuddling, watching the Joe and Daisy show go down with amusement. Daisy starts hitting Joe's back and wriggling as they are halfway up the stairs. Cries to put her down ring out. Joe doesn't falter, he could barely feel the small hits coming from her dainty hands.

When they get to his room he slams the door shut with his foot and put back Daisy down on the ground. Daisy pushes herself away from him, more annoyed by Joe than she had ever been before.

'What was that?' Her chest rises and falls quickly as she gawks at him in utter disbelief.

Joe doesn't reply to her, instead he begins to take off the wristbands that lay colourfully on his forearm. He unclasps the watch he always wears and places it on the cluttered desk in the corner of his room.

'You have no right to drag me around like I'm just some sort of toy you pick and choose when to play with' Daisy's voice is shaky. She was never good with confrontation, but this was something that needed to be said. Joe was hooking up with, or at least kissing the neck of her teammate Abby and that was okay, but the second she talks to a guy he becomes demanding and controlling. He was hypocrite. and a total jerk.

'You're a real fucking headache sometimes, y'know that Daisy'

Joe's words cut through Daisy's stomach like they were a knife. Slicing her open and letting her bleed out. Flashes of her past relationships arguments rattled her mind.

'Me? This is all you Joe. My night was going fine but you ruined it' She spat back at him, a deep loathing crawling up her spine.

'You don't do what you're told' Joe's called back. His jaw set tight and heavy, nostrils lightly flaring.

Daisy's face contorts in confusion. What was he on about? She quite literally did anything Joe asked of her, she stayed away from his teammates, his frat brothers and other football players. She never told anyone about them, she never stopped him from speaking to or hooking up with other women.

'Flirting with that fuckin' gator player.' Venom laces his words.

Daisy looked at Joe again, only becoming more confused. She hadn't spoken to any football players other than him and Ja'marr, she hadn't even spoken to Justin. He vanished somewhere after the game. Likely hanging out with Bella.

'On the sideline, in your little cheerleading uniform' Joe tries to make her remember but he only winds himself up more in the process. Why couldn't people just stay away from her, it would make his life so much easier, so much less stressful if he didn't have to worry about what situations she was getting herself in. He recollects seeing her for the first time, in her purple LSU uniform and watching as some nobody player steals her attention. Joe shakes his head, trying to shake the thoughts away.

The realisation dawns upon Daisy. She has to let out a laugh.

Joe's face contorts in further anger, his nostrils flaring and huffed breaths exhaling from his chest.

Daisy collects herself and lets out a sigh. 'That was just some guy from high school, he was in the grade below. I also happened to be pretty good friend with his girlfriend, the one he's still with. We were talking about her. Dumbass'

The world crumbles around Joe. He's humbled. Standing at six foot four but feeling minature. Joe let his own ego, and his own cockiness control his thoughts and over reacted at something minor.

'and Daniel?' Joe tries to save face by bringing up the other problem from tonight.

'and Abby?' Daisy jabs back. 'You say no teammates but she's on the cheer team'

'Please. You stood in for one game, you're not on the team' Joe tuts with a click of his teeth as he shuts down Daisy's line of argument.

'Is she your type?' Daisy wonders out loud.

'Is Daniel yours?' Joe challenges her question.

Daisy walks over to his bed and sits on it. She folds one leg across the other and begins to untie her shoelaces. She looks at Joe, scanning the emotion behind his ocean eyes.

'No' her word is hushed, almost whispered out into the silent room that surrounds them.

'Are you and Abby hooking up?' Daisy probes for more information almost shyly. She thinks back to seeing them together on the couch, the way Joe stroked her thigh in a manner which looked more comfortable, more friendly than he ever was with her.

'That shit doesn't concern you' Joe shuts her question down quickly.

'I was just wondering' Daisy backs herself up.

'we aren't, but don't ask me shit like that again' Joe answers her when he can tell her face has dropped, when he can tell her shoulders are tenser than usual and her plump lips are pouty.

'You and I, we're friends, dais. That's it. Friends who fuck meaninglessly' Joe clarifies the agreement.

'we're not friends Joey' Daisy speaks frankly but an aura of seduction clung to every word. Her voice soft and sweet like honey. She picks up her shoes and puts them over by a pile of dirty football clothes and a half deflated football before returning to sit on the bed. She leans back, her forearms propping her up. Every movement dripped in sex appeal.

Goosebumps dotted over Joe's skin as he heard his nickname roll off her tongue like a gentle harmony. 'Joey'. Most people called him Joey, but when she said it it sounded different, more delicate, more soft, more sexy. His deep eyes roamed slowly over her body, taking in every detail of her.

we're not friends joey

Her seductive words play back in his head as he studied the curves he was beginning to know so deeply.

Daisy's own piercing stare is looking at him, her eyes darting over his athletic form studying the muscles she was beginning to know so well.

and they're in that place again. The Garden of Eden, in which both of them are a forbidden fruit waiting to be bitten into. The place where the air is so thick with tension, it makes it hard for them to breathe. Pounding heart rates and yearning thoughts control every movement. Green and blue eyes glossing over with a deep hunger that needs to be satiated. They needed each other.

Joe doesn't hesitate, he rips his grey t-shirt over his head and chucks it in any direction. He goes to get on top of Daisy.

She puts her leg up. A pointed foot on his bare chest stopping him from coming any closer.

The pleats of her black skirt fall backwards and can see what was hidden underneath it. A sheer red lace thong was all she had on. His mouth waters at the sight.

'Thought I was too much of a headache for you' Daisy's words are slow and tormenting. She dragged out the insult he had called her only moment prior. She couldn't let him get away with it that easily, she had to see him squirm. Her foot was still placed on his toned chest, right in the center, holding him back from being able to touch what he so desperately desires.

'dais-' Joe starts.

'say you're sorry' Daisy cuts him off. Joe looks at her wide eyed. Daisy was never one to be commanding, especially not in the bedroom. That's where he took control. But now she had switched the roles, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

'don't play fuckin' games with me' He grumbled.

'say you're sorry' She repeated her words firmly.

'FUCK!' Joe glances at the red lace that is torturing him. An agonising throbbing sensation in his crotch.

'I'm sorry' His words are small, pushed out his mouth unwillingly but it's enough for Daisy to feel accomplished.

'thank you baby' Her soft voice purred, her leg dropped from his chest swiftly and she lefts him have full access.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ -

Ragged breaths ripple through the room. Warm, humid air clings to them. They're naked, skin to skin, pressed against each other as Joe bury's his length inside her with fast thrusts. Her hands grip and tug at his silky hair, soft moans leaving both of their mouths. Joe's head in the crook of her neck, nipping and pinching at her collarbone with his teeth.

The red lace panties long gone, thrown on the headboard of his bed, decorating it like they were a trophy.

Daisy wraps her legs around Joe's waist, bringing him even closer. She wanted to feel every inch inside her. The wooden bed creaked around them sounding out a painfully obvious rhythm. The headboard banged lightly against the white walls.

Joe's teeth nipped at her perky breasts, one hand moving to grab the other, lightly massaging it.

Joe flipped them in a swift manoeuvre. Daisy now perched up on top of him, sitting pretty on his thick length. It was rare she was on top. Very rare. She looked down at him, feeling some slight nerves run through her system.

'ride me cowgirl'

His large hands gripped tightly at her hip bones, tender squeezes which made her feel more reassured.

Slowly she began to circle her hips, ever so slightly moving up and down as he remained inside her. Joe guided her every move. Deep eyes traced her toned figure, her waist small and her hips wide as she straddled him. Her breasts lightly bouncing up and down, hypnotising him. Her abdomen contracting with every whine of her waist, with every drawn out roll of the hips. Her olive skin glowed with sticky dew, a testament to the heat they created in the room. Strands of her brunette hair lay messily around her peach flushed face, bouncing with her every movement. A plump pink lip bitten between her teeth. Her head tossed back in pleasure, eyes closed looking up the the ceiling. Silent prayers to god even when she was sinning.

The strange feeling pinched at Joe's stomach again. He couldn't take his eyes off her, an aura as golden as the summer sun shone around her. She looked ethereal, like an angel sent down to earth from heaven. She didn't look real, she was a sight that seemed too good to be true.

He shook away the thoughts with a couple hard blinks, focussing no longer on the sight of her but the pleasure she was giving him. The transactional, meaningless sex between them.

Daisy picked up her pace, leaning slightly forward. Her open palms pressed onto his strong chest as she bounced on his length, feeling him deeply. Joe smacked her ass leaving behind a harsh red mark and a soft, stinging sensation that sparked an electric thrill within her. Her mouth parted with a subtle whimper, one that makes Joe smirk.

'you like it huh baby?'

Daisy could only nod her head as she continued riding him. Her stamina tiring, and her legs beginning to ache. Joe could tell. He could feel it in her slowing pace, and the ragged breathes she let out.

He curled a warm arm around her and flipped them once again, so he was back on top of her. Her weak legs shaking against his rib cage as she instinctively wrapped them back around his wide abdomen. His gold chain dangled against her chest, a sweet cooling sensation briefly skimming over her burning skin.

'let me make you finish' Joe breathed softly into the sultry air around them. Sloppy wet kisses laid on her chest as he looked up at her through his eyelashes.

'you been so good for me' His words sound almost teasing, almost mocking. A bold playful glint sparkled in his eyes as he watched her squirm beneath his soft touches.

'you want it baby' Joe whispered. The room more silent than it had been all night as their movements paused. Joe still inside her dripping flower.

Daisy whimpered. She hated when he did this. She hated begging for him but he made her feel too good to resist. Her kitty purred for him, pulsating in deep yearns.

'i want it' a shy whisper from her soft, full lips is all it takes.

Joe begins to thrust into her, this time faster and harder. Daisy's nails grip onto his back. Scratching hard as she tried to control the pleasure overtaking her body.

Both of them were close. Their climax's pooling with a strong pressure in the bottom of their torso's.

Daisy reaches it first. Joe places a gentle hand on her mouth as she cries out his name louder than she ever had before. Joe stifles a laugh, a cocky one. If he hadn't covered he mouth, she may have woken up the whole fraternity.

Joe continues pumping into her, his own high coming closer and closer, he's about the pull out when Daisy's words stop him. Hitting him like a cold slap to the face.

'You can finish inside me y'know. I'm on the pill'

Joe looks up briefly to the sky. A silent thank you in his thought. Why hadn't she told him this before?

He pins her leg up as he continues his hard pumps inside her. Jaw clenched, eyes tightly shut as he prepared himself for the ecstasy that was coming.

He came inside her. His toes curling at the feeling.

Tired breaths sounded out softly in the muggy sex filled air. Foreheads pressed against each other as they both came down from the adrenaline of their blissful highs. For a brief moment, their eyes open and meet each others. Daisy's eyes soft and doe like. Joe's gaze a tender one. Unreadable meaning written in each of them. Deafening silence filling up the space around them.

After two seconds, their eyes widen in realisation of their closeness. Joe jumps off her, leaving her bare skin coldly laying in his navy sheets. Daisy, suddenly feeling exposed, grabs the blanket and covers herself. For the first time, she didn't have to clean herself up.

Joe rummaged through the messy middle drawer of his dressing table, grabbing her a pair of his boxers and the same spongebob t-shirt she always wore when she stayed round. He placed them at the end of the bed for her to grab, before he himself grabbed some boxers putting them on.

Daisy shuffled in the bed as she put the clothes on he had given her. The boxers were baggy and the t-shirt fit her more like a dress, but they were comfortable. This was the most aftercare Joe ever offered her, so she took what she could get.

'Pass me your phone' Joe said casually, holding out the palm of his hand.

Daisy did so hesitantly. She watched as he tapped at her screen a few times and typed something in, then tossing it back on the bed beside her.

He'd added himself as a contact.

She looked at him and he could feel her questioning gaze.

'It's easier to message this way and uhh-' Joe said as he scratched the back of his head with a hesitation to his next words. 'just in case you need anything or whatever' He tried to complete his sentence coolly but it wasn't effective. Was this him trying to say he cared about her? Daisy wondered or maybe it was just because it was easier to organise their hookups. Daisy went with the second option.

They slept beside each other once again, underneath the comfy sheets of Joe's bed. This time closer than usual. Her back pressed against his. The warmth of his skin radiating against her all night long.

Sweet dreams softly filling her slumber.

౨ৎ

#joe burrow #joe burrow au #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x oc #joey burrow #lsu joe #lsu!joe #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x you #౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ forbidden - joe burrow au #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fan fic #fanfiction #send anons #send asks #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow bengals

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holdmytesseract · 21 days ago

Text

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @fictive-sl0th

Biker!Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader | No Outbreak AU

Warnings for this Chapter: heartbreak, sadness, LOTS of music, Daryl? Merle being Merle, swear words, 'sibling fight', smoking, strip club, a specific TWD character, allusions to smut, lots of emotions

Word Count: 3,7k

a/n: I love this chapter with all my heart. I hope you like it, too. ☺️

《 M a s t e r l i s t 》

《 Chapter Seven 》《 Chapter Nine 》

Chapter Eight...

... in which you turn a new page in the book of life - still dealing with your broken heart, and Daryl is about to pay a high prize for a life-changing realisation.

《 musical inspiration 》

Both of them are self-explaining, you'll see.

I'm fallin' back down here now, baby (Baby) My mind is collapsing, I'm crazy (Crazy) I'm fallin' back down here now, baby, now, baby (Baby) 'Cause I lost the game, I can't get lower 'Cause your pain it's takin' over Lost the game, I can't get lower Lost the game, lost the game, the game

'Lost The Game' by Two Feet

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months - but the aching pain in your chest only died down slowly. One day you felt it more, the other less, but it was always present. Daryl Dixon had left a scar as deep as the Pacific ocean - that much was clear.

Eventually, you found a way to cope and (hopefully) get over him... You spent a lot of time working on the farm - more than ever before; basically everything to keep your mind occupied. Arrow played a big part in your 'recovery' as well. Sure, the palomino Mustang stallion had always played a big role in your life, but nowadays? He was indispensable. Long rides, endless hours of cuddling in the straw and grooming was how you mostly spent your days. No more going out, no more setting a single foot in that damned bar. Work, Arrow and your family (mostly Tess) was all you needed... Oh, and music...

With eyes closed, you sat at the piano; fingers dancing over the keys blindly. You had learned to play as a kid and despite losing it quite a bit throughout high school, college and your teenage years, you found your way back to it. Now even more - thanks to a broken heart. And it helped you... Oh, it helped you so much. It was like balm on a wound...

"But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

'Cause I knew everything when I was young

I knew I'd curse you for the longest time

Chasin' shadows in the grocery line

I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired

And you'd be standin' in my front porch light

"And I knew you'd come back to me

You'd come back to me

And you'd come back to me

And you'd come back", you sang, still with eyes closed and therefore not noticing your sister, who came to stand in the doorway of the living room. Tess crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame; listening to you with a soft, yet sad smile on her face.

"And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite," you ended 'cardigan' with a soft sigh and reopened your eyes; almost falling off your chair, when Tess' voice suddenly urged to your ears. "You are so good at that, I swear."

"Tess!" You squeaked and turned around; hand clutching your rapidly beating heart. "How many times have I told you to not sneak up on me like that?!"

She giggled and lifted her hands as a sign of an apology. "Sorry, sis, but I couldn't help myself but to stop by and listen. It's beautiful, truly." You gave her a small smile; shock disappearing. "Thank you..." But the smile quickly faded again, when your thoughts travelled back to the lyrics of the song. "Beautiful, yet sad...," you whispered. "He... He won't come back..."

Tess' expression turned soft. Compassionate. "I know..." But she quickly tried to lift your mood again and changed the topic. "You should take it with you to university, you know," your sister gestured towards the musical instrument in front of you. You breathed out a small laugh and shook your head. "I wish I could, but... You know I can't take this beauty all the way to Florida. It most likely wouldn't survive and that would break my heart." You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. "Guess I just have to hope that there's a piano somewhere on the campus..."

Now that the future with Daryl you had printed out in your mind had literally shattered into pieces like glass, you decided to do as your sister told you from the very beginning... Focus on your future. So, that's what you did. You applied to university in Gainesville - and got accepted. That meant, you'd leave in a few weeks - two, to be precise. Late August. The first semester started in September, but you needed time to move, of course. This wasn't just done in a day... But it was a fresh start, and probably exactly what you needed.

"Well, I truly hope for you that there is. You have to keep on taking your medicine - especially with Arrow not being around..." You nodded; sighing again. Of course, you couldn't bring the piano - and neither could you bring your horse... "Yeah, I know." Tess nodded. "Promise me you'll be okay." "Yeah, I will."

While you got settled in Gainesville - so far from home, and turned a new page in the book of life, was quite a few miles away Daryl living the life he had chosen a long time ago... Work, bikes, bars, cigarettes and alcohol from time to time. Usually, you could add 'strip club' to the list as well, but since the workshop was busier than usual with the motorcycle season being still in full swing, was the man way too occupied for some fun besides an occasional wank in the shower or on the small sofa at home - and it showed.

That was at least what the people around him thought, with Merle leading the way. Too much work and stress plus too less chances to relief said stress, equalled bad moods and grumpiness.

Not that Daryl didn't think the same. He did. It felt like a hole in his body he just didn't manage to fix just yet. Lack of sex (and probably bike trips) was his diagnosis. The biker didn't even waste a single thought that it could be something entirely different - or... Didn't he want to consider another option?

Anyways... He was in a bad mood - since weeks. So bad, that all of his fellow mechanics avoided conversations with him; only getting involved in a conversation when it was necessary. As for Daryl, he couldn't care less about it. He was good on his own. Probably even better on his own...

With an revving engine drove the biker back on the courtyard of his brother's workshop; slowing down. Slowly, Daryl manoeuvred the dark blue and white Yamaha he had been working on the past few days back inside the open workshop, past his colleagues and all the way through to the little hall at the end, where he killed off the engine and dismounted the bike.

Just as he was about to leave the hall and light a cigarette, his older brother made his way over to him. Sweat and grime stained his white top. "Where the fuck have ya been?" Daryl scoffed at Merle's question and lit the cigarette dangling off his mouth. "Christ's sake, ain't I even allowed ta gas up a bike without tellin' ya?" He snapped; clouds of smoke puffing past his lips. "Don't need ya ta mother me."

Merle immediately lifted his hands in surrender; chuckling. "Woah there, calm down, baby brother. What's wrong with ya, huh? Been actin' like a dick since weeks." Again, Daryl scoffed and wanted to brush past the older Dixon, "'M fine. Ain't nothing wrong." but he didn't get far. His brother stepped in his way. "Look, Darlina... I know it's been kinda stressful 'round here lately. We all are stressed, eh? But that ain't a reason to smell up the whole workshop with yer bad mood like a shitfaced alcoholic, got it?" Daryl grunted in response and tugged at his blue mechanic overall in annoyance with his free hand. "Yer in desperate need ta blow off steam, baby brother. Get some pussy. It'll make ya feel better," Merle clapped harshly Daryl's shoulder and passed him by, laughing. "Go, or I'll drag yer sorry ass single-handed to the 'White Rabbit'!" He called over his shoulder with a wide smirk.

The younger Dixon just scoffed once more and lifted his hand to show Merle his gloriously raised middle finger - what caused his brother to only laugh more.

"Asshole..." grumbled Daryl under his breath and took another long drag of his cigarette, before the biker occupied himself with work again.

The 'White Rabbit' - the probably best and most visited strip club around. Good music, relatively tasty alcohol and one hell of a few strippers. A few of them willing to... even provide some extra service - if the money and circumstances were right. He had spent a lot of time in his youth and early 20s there... To say these nights had been wild was probably an understatement.

However, it was a place Daryl didn't seek out for quite a while... Months.

Now, he stood in front of the brightly lit, small building; taking the last few drags of his cigarette. It was a strangely pleasant warm Saturday evening, despite the fact that it was late September. Nevertheless, had the biker opted for a long-sleeved black shirt underneath his angel-winged vest.

Throwing the stub of the cigarette on the concrete ground beneath him, he stubbed it out with the tip of his shoe and adjusted his sunglasses, before he took a last look at his bike. Then he crossed the street to follow his brother's advice to hopefully get laid - which depended if she was present or not. If not, he could probably manage to walk out with a blowjob. Better than nothing.

As soon as he stepped through the neon illuminated doors, he took off his sunglasses. The familiar scent of alcohol, cold smoke and several different perfumes wafted through the air and hit him like a freight train. Hell, he wasn't used to it anymore...

He walked down the small hallway; always following the bright, colourful neon lights. A few men passed him by, while he passed by two strippers. One of them he knew well. The other not really.

"Hey, hun," the athletic, tanned, black haired beauty leaned against the wall; wearing nothing more than a flimsy, shimmering dress - and a smile. A cigarette was pinned between her pointer and middle finger. "Long time no seen." The biker stopped, of course, in his tracks; not wanting to be impolite. "Hey, Roxy," he jutted his chin as a greeting and just couldn't help himself but to let his eyes travel over the woman's body. He was just a man after all...

Roxy noticed it, of course. It was hard not to. Daryl wasn't quite subtle, but she brushed it off and just smiled. It's not like she wasn't used to it. And besides, that was what she was here for, right? It was her job.

"Yeah, uh, been busy, ya know..." The biker finally replied. "Workshop going well?" He nodded; still trying to keep his eyes on Roxy's face. "Uh.Huh, yeah." The woman opposite him smiled and took a drag of her cigarette. "Good to hear." Once more, Daryl just nodded.

It was quiet for a moment, before he spoke up again. "Is, uh, you know who here?" She nodded with a knowing smile. "She is. You're lucky. Had to jump in for Chrissie tonight." "A'right. I'll, uh, be goin' then. See ya 'round?" "Sure, hun."

The closer he got to the main hall, the louder got the music. Just as he entered; shoving his bulky frame through the macramé curtain of the door, 'White Rabbit' by Jefferson Airplane started to play. How ironic, thought Daryl. Loud claps and whistles sounded through the air; attracting Daryl's attention. One look at the stage to the left was enough to know why every man in here was so thrilled... There she was... The star of this establishment... Leah.

Daryl swallowed hard and took a few coordinated steps closer; leaning against the wall in the back with his arms crossed over his chest. He would lie if he said he didn't miss this in some kind of way, wouldn't he? Merle was right... He needed this - that was what Daryl believed. The solution to all his 'problems'.

He watched. Just like every other man in here, naturally. Leah was something special. The biker noticed that early on. Something in the way she moved... The looks she was always giving him... Thrilling. And she didn't miss out on them today. It took her a while to notice Daryl's presence, but about halfway through the song, she did. Usually would've sent the downright erotic smile Leah had given him straight into another stratosphere. It never failed to cause his blood to rush to a certain part of his body.

But not today.

The smile has been given, but the effect was lacking - much to Daryl's surprise and... shock? A deep frown carved its way into his forehead. Why? What was wrong? Nothing had changed...

The biker brushed it off, of course. Reasoning that it was because he hadn't been to this place for a long time. His body just had to adapt, right? Without wasting a second thought, he just decided to enjoy the show - and look forward to what he would might get after.

Once his favourite stripper's performance was over after a few songs and the whole room of testosterone was done salivating and satisfied, he noticed the subtle sign Leah gave him. That hadn't changed. So, Daryl quickly, but subtly headed for the small bar; dismissing the female bartender, who wanted to offer him a drink.

Daryl wanted to feel excitement and anticipation, but somehow it wasn't there; replaced by a strange feeling he couldn't pinpoint. The same strange feeling he carried around since weeks, with the only difference that it seemed to worsen now - which the biker didn't understand. This was supposed to be the solution and-

"I think I can't trust what my eyes see." A voice suddenly urged to Daryl's ears; ripping him out of his thoughts. A very familiar voice... "Hey, sexy stranger," Leah addressed him; a smile on her face. "Already thought you got tired of me." Daryl scoffed and lifted his crossed arms off the bar counter. "Jus' had a lot goin' on. 'M up ta ma ears with work." Leah raised an eyebrow. "Merle kept you that busy?" The biker just nodded alongside a grunt. "S why 'm here." The stripper's expression immediately shifted into a knowing smirk, "I see... My biker boy is in need of some... stress relief." before she bit her red lipstick clad lips. "I think I might just have the right solution for that little... issue," she said and dragged a hand awfully slowly down Daryl's clothed chest and stomach - only stopping at the black belt around his hips. Leah gave it a teasing tug and smirked at him again. "Come on then," she said; beckoning him to follow her with a come-hither motion of her pointer finger.

Of course, Daryl followed after her; eyes locked on her barely covered body, which was tucked away from his prying eyes by a red silk robe.

She led him to a side door; checking the surroundings if anyone was watching - and let the biker pass. The hallway he walked down then was familiar. After all, he had been here way more than only a few times. And the room he entered after Leah was well-known as well... Her personal changing room.

"Stressful, yeah?" The woman asked while peeling the red silk robe from her body. Daryl couldn't do much but stand there and stare; swallowing hard. "Yeah," he managed to croak out. Leah's lips held a knowing smirk. She knew what she was capable of doing to the biker. It was always the same... He would almost instantly lose his 'bad boy' demeanour around her and was putty in the woman's hands with barely a snap of her fingers.

The stripper poured herself a quick drink, downed it and directed her full attention back to Daryl, who hadn't moved an inch. His eyes were still glued to her body as he was gnawing at his thumb - another habit mostly showing nervosity, uncertainty and insecurity.

Leah couldn't help but smile again. So cute, she thought and pushed herself off the admittedly huge counter on the right side of the room and stepped closer. "You poor thing..." She stated; shaking her head and circled the man like a predator. While standing behind him, Leah placed her hands on his shoulders and started to massage him with a delicate, yet firm touch. "So tense..." Daryl swallowed hard again; could hear in her voice how she was shaking her head once more.

Arrived in front of him, she reached for Daryl's wrists. "Come on... Let me help you," she whispered - borderline seductively. He let her guide him further to the left, where that familiar chair waited for him and on which Leah pushed him down with a hand on his chest.

The woman rounded him again until she was standing behind Daryl once more; hand never leaving his chest. Quite the opposite. Her other hand was joining in. They played with the lapels of his angel-winged vest and the buttons of his black shirt; warm palms gliding over his pecks and stomach. She leaned in close - he could feel her hot breath against his ear. "What do you need, pretty boy, huh?" She whispered and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the shell of his ear, which was poking out from behind his long curls. It caused the biker's breath to hitch. "Tell me."

"I-I-" Daryl stuttered; squirming slightly under her touch. He had stumbled over his words - in confusion. Somehow, it felt different. Not as pleasing as it used to feel. Why was his body reacting like that? So... distant? But once more, he pushed the thought aside; still convinced that this cure was going to work at some point.

"Wha'ever ya willin' ta do."

A small laugh left Leah's lips at his words. "Don't tempt me, Daryl." She stepped around the chair; now facing him. "I think I know exactly what you need. My muscle memory is working just fine," the woman winked at him; shook some loose strands of her wild red hair out of her face, before she dropped to her knees in front of him.

Daryl's breath got caught in his throat again, as he felt Leah's hands skimming the inside of his thighs; fingertips leaving a firing hot trail behind he could even feel through the fabric of his jeans. Not a good kind of fiery, though. It felt like his skin was getting burnt. The biker whimpered - much to the stripper's delight; thinking she pleasured him already. He pressed his back further inside the chair; seconds away from jerking his legs away from Leah's touch.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, screamed his body at him.

But then Leah let her hands travel on... Straight to his belt, where her talented fingers worked to unbuckle said belt. Daryl let his head fall into his neck; eyes slipping shut - a blessing in disguise. Suddenly, the strange feeling he carried around since weeks seemed to culminate; triggered by the familiar, yet so strange woman.

Pictures and memories he had stored in his brain ran like a movie in front of his eyes. Pictures and memories... Not of Leah, though... Pictures and memories of you. It was as if you were right there in front of him. As if he would just stretch out his hand, he could reach you. You were smiling at the biker. He could see the happiness on your face; hear your voice and witness your joyous laughter whenever you gifted him your time. He relived the first time he met you; riding on that horse with that sweet cowboy hat on your head. All the memories you made together in that bar. Drinking, playing pool, laughing and just having fun. And of course he saw every passionate night you had shared. Your body writhing against his. The way you touched him and never failed to set his veins on fire. Your scent. Your taste. It consumed Daryl.

But the most prominent memory was the one where he had left you standing at that damn gas station. The heartbreak and sadness in your voice... The tears in your eyes he saw you shedding in his rearview mirror. You had opened up your heart for him - truly felt something for him, and he had just broke it. Broke you. As if it meant nothing. Mindlessly. Carelessly. You could've been that one good thing in his life - and he just threw it away, because he was too blind to see it.

Not anymore.

He could see clearly now. The blindfold he had worn discarded; ripped from his eyes like a bandaid. How far he had needed to go to see it... That it almost took another woman he was about to sleep with.

Pathetic.

He was a fool. A damn fool.

The sudden, very unpleasant and uncomfortable touch of Leah's skin against his catapulted the biker out of his almost hallucinogenic state. It was wrong. So wrong. Her hand didn't belong there; on his body... Yours did. He never wanted to feel another touch but yours.

Daryl was moments away from ripping the stripper's hands off his body, when another part of his brain made its appearance out of nowhere... His doubts, fears and insecurities.

Love, relationships, girlfriends... It wasn't him. It wasn't the kind of stuff he did, right? He never learnt what it meant to have a loving and understanding partner. To have someone he could truly trust and rely on. Sure, he had Merle - but that was different. Merle was blood.

And then there was that voice in his head... The devil on his shoulder. You'd screw it up anyway, Daryl. Hell, you already screwed it up. Why even try again? Besides, do you really think she'd want you back? After what you did to her? Grow some balls and get over that damn girl. Enjoy what Leah is able to give you. Pleasure with no strings attached.

Daryl swallowed hard; hesitating. A war of feelings raging inside him. Head against heart. What was he supposed to do?

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sarcasticsweetlara · 3 months ago

Text

If The World Ends We Go Together

Hunger Games au! District 7 Rebel! Jihoon x Female District 7 Rebel! Reader

Summary: Jihoon and you knew how to survive together, it was simple and steadfast, all throughout the years since your childhood to the harvest of tributes to the beginning of the Rebellion. You meant to keep it that way, even if it meant ignoring your feelings, but how long can it last as the dangers around you make you question how you could ever live without Jihoon?

Warning and Contents: Suspense, friends to lovers, both Jihoon and Reader think being in a relationship will put them in danger. Fluff. Reader is taller than Jihoon. Reader has aphasia (mutism due to damage to the brain language centers) and Jihoon and her communicate mostly through sign language. Jihoon with an axe; Bisexual! reader (if you are biphobic then dni), Reader with dark skin, appearances of Park Sunyoung of F(x) and Seokmin, Minghao and Seungkwan of SVT. Blood, non graphic flashback of a beating as a child, fights with guns and knives, hunting, Jihoon and reader hunt a bear together; burnings, almost drowning, and not accurate mention of CPR.

- xxx - oral dialogue

"xxx" sign language

*xxx* written notes

{xxx} flashback

Word count: 11,251

Image credit to: @vitaminkyeom

This is Part of the SVT CATCHING FIRE COLLABORATION

Playlist: Born to die - Lana del Rey; Ruby - Woozi; Cardigan - Taylor Swift; Snow on the beach - Taylor Swift; All my love - SVT; Dust - SVT Vocal Unit; What Kind of Future - Woozi; Die with a smile - Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars; Cinnamon Girl - Lana del Rey; Find you - Ruelle; War of Hearts - Ruelle; Margaret- Lana del Rey

MY MASTERLIST

You would never say you were a doctor. As much as you knew how to avoid certain herbs in case someone tried to poison you, how to brew concoctions and remedies, you could never truly diagnose someone.

That’s why at this moment, you were mad at Jihoon.

He had brought over to your shared home/office whose space could barely fit two people, a little girl whose bleeding left eye needed a specialist not a mere learning herbalist of medical plants.

- She needs the care Y/n, I wouldn't ask you if I wasn't sure you can handle it - while you were flattered by his words it also conveyed a little self-doubt given you barely knew how to keep people alive and how to heal some ailments, but you guessed you would have to act quick to help the poor child who did not deserve at all what happened to her.

And that’s how you found yourself going over the books you had stolen from a rebellious doctor killed by peacekeepers.

The book seemed to have more than 1000 pages and even if you were not an expert on how to treat eye ailings you really wanted to help her.

Finally you landed on the page you needed and tilting your head while turning to look at Jihoon you signaled for him to lay the girl on the small bed of your room that actually only fitted two persons so you had to move carefully to not startle her and not drop your herbs while you took your time analyzing the words to understand them better.

You put the bottles you were carrying on Jihoon’s hands and squeezed his hands turned fists to assure him of how important they were… and of course they were since inside of them were many ingredients essential for this specific concoction; sitting on your small desk you began chopping ingredients one by one signaling for Jihoon to put them back in place, then a while after giving your new patient a glass of water for her to drink as you put all of them together on a pot letting it boil with half a cup of water, adding on them a drop of another bottle you turned to look at the girl again but this time you saw the look on Jihoon’s face as well, he was staring at your little patient in an aloof way as if he was remembering something.

You couldn’t help but grimace. You knew what Jihoon was reminiscing, you woke him from his stupor touching his shoulder and indicating with a nod for him to take a seat by your side, as he sat, you moved to gently open her left eye and drop with a small dispenser two drops of the concoction you prepared.

"I'm here" Jihoon blinked and you made sure he looked at your eyes as you admonished him. "You are fine, I am fine" your hands were steady and your eyes never left his, your gazes were locked untilJihoon blinked again and sighed and let his head fall in the air.

"I know" he lifted his head as he signed "It's just" his hands were trembling "it's so unfair, she's only a child!" He signed quickly, which indicated how frustrated Jihoon felt.

"But you helped her" you squeezed his hands "she will be fine" Jihoon finally relaxed his posture and squeezed your hands back as he gave you a small smile. Jihoon didn't like touching people, but with you it was different, it always was.

It was fair to say that since meeting Jihoon and his father who worked as lumberjacks, your best friend Sunyoung and you were amazed by Jihoon's skills with the axe and soon the three of you became friends, while Sunyoung preferred to watch his axe skills and learn how to climb trees and create traps, and Jihoon knew how to defend himself with an axe you learned how to brew remedies.

It was hard for Sunyoung and you to read and be aware of your surroundings since at a young age you both had been beaten by a peacekeeper which ended up costing your abilities to speak and to keep balance and fully comprehend reading and writing, but soon Sunyoung and you learned how to ground yourselves through touching things, while Sunyoung always carried leave bracelets and anklets to ground herself by touching them you did the same but with a small chunk of wood. You would never admit it but it was one of the parts of the log Jihoon had once cut (also because you had fallen and spent a long while trying to get up as you felt you no longer had equilibrium).

You used it as a necklace and below your clothes, so that no one would try to take it from you.

"What do you think?" Sunyoung asked you as both of you were in her cozy room preparing to head out for work and Sunyoung was discarding what to wear that would not make the peacekeepers pay her any mind, right now she was wearing a new leather jacket she most likely had made for herself while you laid on her bed playing with her covers. As you pretended to ponder Sunyoung gave you a small pout which made you chuckle and in the end you gave her thumbs up in approval.

"It's good, you outdid yourself this time" Sunyoung grinned and with that you headed out towards the forest, you worked as part of the lumberjacking industry and helped move the wood logs to the factories. Since people older than 18 were no longer able to present as tributes, and therefore couldn't get more food according to how many times you wrote your name in the baskets, you had to work for Panem now to buy a little bit of food, though only the Capitol and the Privileged Districts truly ever got the gains of the labour.

Once you got to the forest you caught a glimpse of Jihoon as he was flexing his biceps to finish cutting a tree, before he could see your flustered expression you turned around to take the first logs to the factory as Sunyoung smirked at you teasingly while you rolled your eyes at her antics .

“Don't get lost admiring Jihoon’s muscles, focus on earnings money right now” she playfully moved her fingers “after all you can always see them when you two are together” that last statement which made you smack her arm as she cackled and your eyes popped up for her implication.

“Jihoon and I are just friends” you declared

“Best friends who want to kiss each other” Sunyoung attacked

“That's not true, and you better focus on your work if you want us to go back home without any punishments or beating” your hands were firm as you gestured with your eyes to the peacekeepers who were always eager to give punishments.” You warned her as the peacekeepers were looking at you

“Okay mom” she scoffed.

It was not as if you never fell asleep hoping to one day feel his lips on yours, of course not.

As you kept doing your part of the job: transporting piles of logs to the factory around 10 to 20 times per a day, you noticed the peacekeepers growing restless as they kept getting close to all the workers.

- I NEED YOU ALL TO LISTEN NOW! - One of the peacekeepers shouted when you were amid your 18th takeover making you still - There will be a curfew tonight, so when you are finished go back home immediately! There will be no considerations!- You looked around the area to catch Sunyoung but she beat you to it as she touched your elbow and then your shoulder.

"Don't worry about me, I will take the shortway, focus on going home soon". You wanted to argue and tell her you would take her but then her roommate Minghao approached you.

- It's okay Y/N, we will leave together, I won't leave her. -

Once you finished Jihoon and you got on his car to go back home and as soon as you arrived the two of you nodded, the agreement to bar everything and keep an eye on your weapons and the door, you held your revolver while Jihoon angled the rifle to fit between his toned arms... And wait, until the frequency in the radio finally changed. News about the Rebellion.

The rebels had found new ways to communicate indoors as protests and actions were done outside.

- We will mobilize from district to district- an off and cracky voice mumbled.

- You all need to keep this secret so listen carefully, start the journey towards District 13, grab maps to guide yourselves and take everything you need, but beware any peacekeeper, be as discreet as you can, District 13 will receive us as refugees, they have the power to end the Capitol from within, if we burn they will burn with us.-

Jihoon and you looked at each other, you would need to act carefully from now on.

The next day, as you were with Sunyoung you were tense, you felt as if the surveillance had increased by the amount of peacekeepers watching over you. There were 5 more than the usual 3. But even then, that didn't stop you from getting to quietly retreat further into the forest and find Sunyoung who was sitting in a wood log across Minghao, Jihoon and Seokmin. You waved at them and they returned it while Sunyoung acknowledged you with a nod as she turned to look at you.

"Did you listen to the radio last night? Many rebels are heading towards District 13 to join Katniss Everdeen" Sunyoung exclaimed. "We will need to leave in a few days - Seokmin looked around to see if there was someone close to you." The other day I heard a group of rebels who plan on making a trap to kill peacekeepers this week, it's risky but the distraction will buy us time to escape.

"It will" Sunyoung chuckled while grinning. "I helped creating it, it will give them a surprise in the mines"

"We can do this" Minghao signed, expanding his hands widely. "but we need to be discreet and gather everything we can, as soon as possible."

"I say we do this in a week, that will give us time once the trap is set."

"What do you think of this Jihoon?" You walked towards him to touch him with a wood stick as Jihoon looked at his shoes while leaning against a tree, he lifted his gaze to meet yours holding his head high to look at you and then sigh.

"We need to bring weapons with us “

...

As you had promised it, a week later the journey towards District 13 was set off. You were going to take different routes, Seokmin, Sunyoung and Minghao went together, with Jihoon and you then following 2 days after. It had been decided like that so you could cover for them in your shifts and deviate attention.

"Take care" were the last words Sunyoung said to you after hugging you tightly and leaving in the dawn.

After the trap set in the mine lands peacekeepers were less than before and that was an advantage and Jihoon and you started the journey then. However the already set beginning was delayed when the peacekeepers saw Jihoon getting into the forest when he wanted to get rid of the traps and beat him up, taking him to jail, he was only able to communicate with you by using the radio he always hid in his jacket.

-Y/n, in short words I'm in prison, they caught me when I was trying to destroy the traps, I need you to get me out of here. - when you listened to his words back at home you were horrified, remembering how creative the peacekeepers could get when it came to punishing citizens.

So here you were, sneaking into their District prison at night one week after he had been captured, wanting to memorize the place and know its weak points. You had managed to get in through a cord and a window and slithered until you saw the back of a peacekeeper. Slowly you got close to him and hit his head with a baseball bat, after taking his gun and his keys you looked for Jihoon, not minding the whistles from the other prisoners and when you saw his hair your waved your hand that was carrying the keys to him making him aware you were here for him. After opening his cell and hugging him you two went back home where you were attending to his wounds. As he hissed when you were cleaning a cut in his cheek you felt a little dizzy so you had to exhale and touch the edge on the little raspy gray sofa you were on to calm yourself.

“Sorry”

“Don't be sorry, I would still do it” Jihoon refused “if anything I'm sorry for worrying you.” he apologized

“Don't say that, I actually liked getting to hit a peacekeeper and taking his gun.” You chuckled at the sweet memory earning a laugh from Jihoon as well.

“You know with me escaping they will be looking for us, right?” he asked after some minutes but you two already knew the answer.

“Then we have to get everything ready for tomorrow.”

And that is how the next day you two sneaked through a barb wire border to avoid being seen by the peacekeepers. You were carrying a map and a dagger in your backpack alongside other tools, like binoculars, books, needles and lighters, while you were no warrior you knew a stab could be lethal and with Jihoon's guiding you at least knew how to hurt someone who tried to harm you, and he was carrying an axe alongside the gun you had stolen. Which was useful when you used one of the bombs Minghao designed to get rid of the peacekeepers of the border of the district.

The rebellion had started as all of you had seen how Katniss Everdeen had won the 74th Hunger Games alongside Peeta Mellark and displayed an attitude and compassion that soon became the symbol of resistance: Hope, in the form of the mockingbird.

The rebels had begun communicating through radios and in one moment, District 13 was able to communicate back and give instructions on what to do to defeat and overthrow Snow as well as indications about what to expect before the coup could be started.

Both Jihoon and you admired Katniss, after having to bury your last relatives due to starvation and the abuse of the peacekeepers, he was all you had left, and you wanted to protect him as much as possible. Even if you sometimes disagreed it was worth it as Jihoon had become your rock after all the years you spent together.

"Here you go" Jihoon gave you a piece of meat he had brought after hunting and you set a fire to heat yourselves as the autumn was starting to fade into winter. "It's deer meat, I hunted it, you should have seen me" He said with a smug smile.

"Show-off" you chuckled as you munched it and he laughed.

"Did you bring your concoctions?"

"Of course I did," you scoffed. "How else are we going to survive? I also brought my books in any case"

"That's good"

As you got up, you got dizzy and almost fell but you touched your shins with a hand while your dominant one went for the leaf necklace, tapping it three times to regain balance. Jihoon slowly showed you his hand, when you recovered you lifted your gaze and thanked him as he finally reached out for your hand and laid the dagger on your palm, squeezing your other hand which made you fluster but you hoped it would not be obvious with the little light of the sun in that moment that your cheeks had a garnet tone now as you lowered your gaze and walked hastily past Jihoon while he set the fire off and you continued marching.

As what you thought were 2 weeks passed you could conclude that the sky view was beautiful, getting to see the blue sky and the high mountains with no stop was a blessing and Jihoon and you frequently ended up admiring it, back home no one had the time and even less the idea of looking up to the sky, and even if the circumstances were not the best, you loved sharing these moments with Jihoon as you also admired his profile during the afternoons.

"How do you think the others are?" He asked you one night as you both stared into the fire lit in front of your mini camp.

"I hope they are okay, though probably Seokmin and Sunyoung must be talking a lot for Minghao" you said giggling at the thought of the two golden retrievers talking non-stop. Jihoon laughed and smiled at you as you settled into a quiet atmosphere, the flames were the only sound in the forest, letting you see the crisps in the air which made Jihoon's skin shine and in Jihoon's mind it made your russet skin glow as well.

You never admitted it since you were always focused on protecting the both of you, but you harbored feelings for Jihoon, it was love, which made you even more alert to any risks. You never thought about the possibility but the fact you two were doing this journey together made you realize even more how much you wanted to protect Jihoon.

“The sky looks beautiful this evening” Jihoon’s fingers emulated an explosion at his statement and it was true, it was a combination of orange, red and pink, secretly he thought that the colors in the sky made you look like an angel but that was a thought for himself as the red tones in the air and the forest gave you an air of a fairy in his mind.

“It is” you agreed, looking above as well and then your gaze shifted to look at him.

"Have you thought about what we will do when we get to District 13 Hoon?" You asked him with shaking hands hoping he doesn't see how you've suddenly gotten nervous.

"I guess" His fingers get fidgety "We can finally join the Rebellion and fight against Snow." You mentally palmed yourself at his answer, though you agreed with the plan, you meant what would happen with your lives after that.

"Yes, but what else will we do once everything is done?" Your eyes are focused on his. "We can get to live freely" He says after a while. "We could build a new house and have all the things we always wanted" you gestured quickly. "Create the garden you wanted and plant new kinds of plants." Your heart is beating fast as you look at him and gulp. "That would be nice" he says calmly as you keep staring at each other.

"We could still keep our weapons, just in any case" he chuckles, his eyes still on you. "Of course we can"

"And ... " He pauses, his lips trembling "get a new fresh start"

"You are right, for you and I" you wrapped up as you got closer to the fire to get more heat for your hands.

...

Three more weeks passed as you traveled when you came across a river whose current waters were flowing swiftly and gushingly fast in what seemed to be the border with District 9, and you had to think about how to cross it without damaging the radio Jihoon was carrying.

"You could keep your backpack and jacket above the water and in any case it gets wet then we put it into rice" you stated which made Jihoon hesitantly agree.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh

"Ready?" Jihoon asked as you both were about to dive into the cold water.

"Readier than ever" and then you jumped, the water splashing on the surface and then Jihoon jumped as well.

‘Splash! Splash!’

The current was strong, you could not deny it, and it was hard to advance but you could not give up just now, as you kept yourself floating on the backpack you turned to look at Jihoon who was focused on his own task and then noticed the zipper of his jacket on the backpack that contained the radio was open and you lowered your head to see that indeed the radio was flowing down the river, which made you discard your own backpack to dive further into the water to retrieve it.

Swimming below water was not easier either, but you had to try and were close to catching it but as soon as you got it in your hand pulling it close to your chest you let out a breath which made you swallow water prompting you to cough and sink more into the water, you tried to swim above but your strength failed you and you could feel more air leaving you; you cursed yourself for failing Jihoon and not being able to keep going and were closing your eyes when a gush of water came in your direction. Jihoon. He had stopped swimming when your backpack collided against him prompting him to look for you and then realize his jacket was open and the radio was missing.

As soon as he spotted you he grabbed you from your shirt and impulsing himself with strength but care as he swam the both of you above the water and towards your backpacks, tying them tightly to support your weight upon them closing the jacket zipper, your limbs were longer than his which made him keep a distance to not end up drowning the two of you; once you were finally on the other side and finally on the District 9, dragging you to lay on the soil he made pressure on your chest to make first aid and expel the water from your lungs, as well as doing mouth to mouth resuscitation which he was not sure about but thought maybe could help.

Jihoon sighed in relief when he saw your chest rising up but frowned when he saw your lips and nails were turning gray, and he then remembered that was a sign of hypothermia from what you had told him once, so he was quick to pull you out of your cold damp clothes and covering your body with blankets after he started a fire to keep you warm. Jihoon would not let you leave him, he would protect you.

As Jihoon pulled your clothes from you he turned around to respect your privacy and tried to do it as quickly as possible to then place you in the two warm blankets. The newly begun fire was warm enough for now but then he would need to go for more logs. Good idea to bring his axe. However, he wanted to make sure at first that you were okay as you had fallen unconscious after being able to breathe. While sleeping you looked peaceful, from your parted lips to your eyelashes and garnet cheeks and the glow of your russet skin. Admitting to himself that he was in love with you was already hard enough, Jihoon didn't want to lose more people he cared about after his dad had been murdered by peacekeepers for daring work when there had been a curfew years ago; you were the only thing he had left and didn't want to lose you over feelings he was not sure would truly work out in a relationship and then you two drifting apart and dying away from each other.

No, Jihoon was completely fine with denying his feelings if that meant you two stayed together alive.

...

{Jihoon and you had met when you were both kids, you were 7 and he was 5, and it seems your very first encounter had already determined what your future dynamic would be.

You had stolen a slice of bread from one of the peacekeepers who had actually taken it from your friend Sunyoung and had hit her in the head leaving her unconscious for a week and from thereafter mute.

Your plan was simple, you wanted to distract him by sending a dog to chase him while you took the bread. But you never counted with him coming back so quickly, in your defense you would say the 7 year-old you barely knew about the running time of an adult thus you were surprised when he yanked you by your hair to the floor before you could even truly go away, at the end of the day you learned how he had left Sunyoung unconscious as he hit you with a metal tube over and over again.

Sunyoung and you gained more scars for life and you knew you had to always check every detail now. It was during your unconscious days that Jihhon came into your life. Jihoon and his father worked as lumberjacks and he usually sold log charges to people, and when he gave a charge to your father he saw the state you were in, all sprawled over your bed in the living room, seeing you like that stirred something in Jihoon's heart and that led him to teach your dad how to place the logs in a way the fire would keep itself and draw heat towards your sleeping silhouette; that had been the same advice he had given to the family of Sunyoung before, when her parents had told you about the kind boy who helped keep Sunyoung warm during her most vulnerable moments had melted your heart, just like Jihoon did when your parents told him why it was you now who was unconscious.

When a month passed after you woke up and Sunyoung was visiting you with her parents, Sunyoung and you were seated resting and when your mother called your name you noticed there were 2 people with her, she told you Jihoon was the lumberjack who helped both of you to survive your unconscious slumbers each one, when Jihoon tried to give you a writing of his working technique he frowned at seeing neither Sunyoung nor you were truly reading, to you it was like the letters were there but could not actually make any sense of it, therefore Jihoon opted for teaching you through watching.

- This is what you have to do -Jihoon said while placing a log of wood on the grass of the yard of your house, as he tilted his head he looked at Sunyoung and you.

- You might need to step aside - as Sunyoung and you looked at each other you did as he told you.

CHOP

The wood log was now split in two logs, they had cuts on the edges from where Jihoon cut it, your eyes were widened in surprise, you had never seen something similar, and to you it was the coolest did ever which made you give Jihoon the widest smile you could master making him smile in the process as well.

Since that day Jihoon and you became friends and made the promise you would always keep each other safe, which eventually made the two of you develop feelings for one another.}

‘Crack crack crack’

The sound of a fire aroused you from your sleep and made you shift your weight on your left side, making you groan when you could no longer fall asleep and reluctantly open your eyes slowly, frowning when you saw the night sky and the forest and hear owls tweeting, you turned your head to the right side and then saw Jihoon asleep on his own mattress across the fire, as well as the radio put in a rice cup and your clothes drying themselves in the branches of some tree which startled you once you became completely self-aware at the realization you were only covered by a blanket and that must likely Jihoon had to do it, which then made you cover your face with the covers. Great. Now how would you look him in the eyes after this?

If Sunyoung was here she would never let you live it down by teasing you. You thanked whatever deity was up there for at least sparing you that shame.

But not enough since the deed was already done. What bothered you was the fact of how embarrassing the situation was and that you nearly could have put Jihoon at risk, it was not like you weren't grateful but you just wished the circumstances for you lying like this had not affected him.

A shiver in your back interrupted your thoughts though making you hold the blanket tighter and then you saw how there was a gray tone to your nails, you then realized Jihoon had acted quickly to keep you warm. You cheesily thought it worked as more warmth settled on your chest then. He really took care of you.

You really were lucky to be here with him, and with that new warmth on your chest you fell asleep again.

Once the dawn broke you felt a hand stroking your right cheek making you drowsily open your eyes as Jihoon's warm fingers quickly left your skin.

"Sorry" he fidgeted and quickly drifted his stare away making you chuckle.

“It's okay” you stretched a little and then remembered you needed to put new clothes on and moved your hand through the soil beneath you to catch his attention and when he did you gestured for him to pass new clothes to you.

“Yeah, sorry, I will turn around so you can change”

As a headache was beginning to form you focused on the tweeting of the birds and how the wind felt against your hair and skin while putting your clothes on, once you finished you got out of the blankets and finally stretched all your limbs which had been a little numb in the end groaning as your kneecaps rattled.

As you walked towards your wet clothes Jihoon turned around and grabbed your wrist earning himself a questioning glare from you down to his face as you felt his warm skin against your cold one and he picked up your fingers extending them enough so you could see your nails still were gray. You had hypothermia.

“We can not leave yet, you need to get warm enough to recover”

You tried to protest but Jihoon lifted a hand making you stop.

“You almost drowned and I had to resuscitate you so you could breathe so if I say we need to wait for you to recover then we do it.” He declared and above his deep stare you felt yourself complying, even if you did not want to admit it. And he felt the need to make you understand because he had been so scared, you almost died leaving him alone and that was an experience he did not want to repeat.

“But what will we do then? Our arrival will be late, our friends are waiting for us.” you exclaimed.

“That doesn't matter” he rebuked “You need to be healthy and I will not risk it” it was then that you knew Jihoon was being serious. “We will stay here until you are healthy enough”

Easier said than done.

While Jihoon could use your books to look at the plants and see the instructions on how to prepare remedies he was not an expert at cooking but during 3 weeks he did what he could which you thanked him for as he made the efforts to do this for you.

“Hoon” you signed the shortened version of his sign “I think we could try to keep going, I've gotten better” which was true, your nails and lips were no longer grey “we can keep marching and in any case stop to see a doctor in District 9.”

“I'm not sure y/n” he rebuked

“But I am sure Jihoon” you insisted, “we could find some more herbs, the entire district is big enough to hide and take care of ourselves” you pleaded looking into his eyes that it was fine and that you desperately needed to keep going. Shutting his eyes and exhaling Jihoon finally gave in and let himself fall into your arms and as you rubbed his back you deepened the embrace not wanting to let go of him.

“Okay, but I’ll let you know if something goes wrong then I will say I told you so” he scoffed as you grinned at him. Jihoon may not admit it but he loved watching you smile, maybe that's why Seokmin and Minghao always pointed at him when you did it.

And that's how you two started marching again in search of wheat, edible fruits and somewhere to stay while you measured the unguarded areas of the District.

“I think we can get to sleep in an abandoned house, what do you think?” You inquired

“That is if we ever get to find an abandoned house first, we need to simply find an abandoned alley” was his answer which made you roll your eyes.

You walked and walked, only stopping to pick some fruits “you never know, Hoon” you told him when he stared at you questioningly.

And you kept leading the way, it was not that boring, actually it was nice to look at the sky and walk side by side in silence and admire how the sunlight made the trees look redder and more abundant.

“The sunset looks beautiful, don't you think? You exclaimed with your back in front of him, and Jihoon held his breath, he couldn't see your face but looking at how your figure was embraced by the light and the breeze made his face heat. An adorable view, even more adorable when you turned to look at him.

“Yes, it looks beautiful” he signed quickly at you. Your eyes were connected and you could feel like you were drowning in his chocolate eyes, feeling as if they took the air from you.

“It is” you straightened your relaxed position “for the meanwhile we can start another fire to sleep here” it was an abrupt change of topic but you needed it.

“Sure” Jihoon answered, scolding himself for blurting out like that.

…

The next day after Jihoon slept on Heejin's couch and you on the floor, you inspected the map to guide yourselves in where to go now as you were eating breakfast on the table.

-You should go northeast - Heejin's voice woke you up from your focused state making Jihoon and you looked at her as she walked down the hall, she had seen you from the end of the hall struggling to understand the map while Jihoon rubbed your back and gave you water.

-If you are going to District 6 then you should march to the northeast, it's the least watched part of this District - She mentioned

-How can we be sure?- was Jihoon’s answer-question which made you frown at him.

-Just like I was sure I would trust you to stay with me, also, I have friends there who could house you, it's a green colored house with an apothecary, it's in a mountain next to a river, you would be arriving there in 2 weeks - Jihoon had to admit that was a good answer.

In the end Jihoon and you agreed to listen to her and started marching.

“She was cute” you told him once you spent 1 hour walking

“I think she was average” Jihoon quickly signed, dismissing your flattering of the woman.

“Okay, I guess we all have different opinions, but don't worry, you are handsomer than her if that's what worries you.” You chuckled as you saw Jihoon’s arms flexing as he stopped for a while to tie his backpack tighter, but at your words Jihoon suffered a shortcut at you thinking he was handsome. Jihoon knew he was an attractive guy but seeing you think the same hit harder than ever before.

You turned around when you saw he was not walking next to you, finding he was looking at you perplexed.

“I mean” you nervously shifted “you don't need to compare yourself to anyone, and trust me when I say you are handsome not only because I'm your friend but also because you are very handsome, stunning and strong” you felt you were digging your own grave as you just rambled in front of him hiding your face with your hands, uncovering it when you heard Jihoon's steps and semi-lifting your head.

-Thank you, you are kind y/n and I do believe you.”

At his words you gave him a small smile and hugged him, as his tiny frame was wrapped by your arms he felt himself smiling as well by how affectionate you were and the fact he loved having all your attention for himself.

When you separated from him you quickly composed yourself.

“Sorry, but also thank you for everything Jihoon, like saving me from drowning and having taken care of me.” you looked at your shoes.

“It's okay, I would do it again if I had to.” Jihoon would always make you swoon more than anyone else.

As the days passed you finally found yourselves in front of the house of Seungkwan, Heejin's friend.

Though Seungkwan was not amused with the idea of sharing his house.

-I'm not into sharing my things so keep your hands to yourselves and follow my rules: 1. You eat when I cook 2. You will share the guest room 3. You will help me with my plants while you stay here, that's the only way you will get wheat to survive once you leave. - even though it didn't amuse you either to follow so many rules you knew you had to follow them if you wanted somewhere to sleep plus food.

“Don't worry, it'll be over before we notice” Jihoon tried to comfort you when Seungkwan went back to his apothecary he noticed your distress over having to stay for more time than you anticipated at first but it was necessary if you wanted to survive the winter so you would stay here for at least 1 to 2 weeks.

“It’s okay, I guess this is a chance for me to learn how to harvest, right?” You mentioned, trying to lighten up the mood.

Entering Seungkwan’s apothecary was nice, there were so many kinds of plants, drawings and concoctions in his shelves, and many plant books in his battered table.

-What are you doing here?- you got startled at the sudden voice of Seungkwan but quickly grabbed your notebook to respond to him.

*I'm sorry, I just was curious about your apothecary.*

-Well go be curious somewhere else unless you seriously like apothecary- his words were blunt and dry but you beamed shrugging at the last statement.

-Do you really like plants?- Seungkwan questioned in surprise and you nodded with a smile.

-Ok then you can observe - Seungkwan hummed - but don't touch anything.- He warned.

-I won't - you typed down and resumed your activity of trying to identify the different kinds of plants around you, and tilting your head you tried to focus on the words on the book to comprehend what it said about harvesting and health. You truly would learn how to harvest now.

2 days later Seungkwan let you borrow one of his books and sows after pleading for hours with the condition of returning the book once you were done.

…

Spinach, radish and carrots were aplenty in his greenhouse, and if Seungkwan was going to give you some of his harvest to survive then Jihoon and you would return the favor by helping him harvest more, and of course you would take this opportunity to learn more about harvest and make concoctions.

-Remind me to always travel with you from now on- Jihoon whispered amazed at how many pots you had already sowed.(5 which in your opinion was low).

“No, this is nothing.” You replied unsure

-Are you kidding me?- He blurted out -this is awesome! You do have a green thumb y/n- simple flattery.

-He’s right- now it was Seungkwan too -you are doing well, your boyfriend is only telling the truth- Boyfriend? Did Seungkwan think Jihoon and you were dating?

-What?- Seungkwan asked when he saw how the two of you froze in your tracks -I thought you two were a couple, aren't you?- he arched an eyebrow

Why couldn't you answer? It was simple, you were not a couple, just friends.

-Well then, you two are just very close friends, never mind- and with that Seungkwan focused on his other pots to your left.

-So, uh, - Jihoon cleared his throat “This is a good job” He told you even though his eyes were not meeting your eyes.

“Thanks Hoon” you also didn't meet his eyes.

As more days passed you could slowly see the growing of the plants which delighted you, and in turn delighted Jihoon too.

Seungkwan was perceptive about your bond being a really close one, if it was one way or another he was happy for the two of you.

Later on after you ate dinner Jihoon and you were out in the forest hunting, as winter got nearer every day you would need coats to endure the cold weather.

“Hunting down a bear will be enough” you were nervous about doing this, but you needed to do this and Jihoon was here so you had faith he knew what to do.

Jihoon was crouching on the ground where he set a trap with goose meat and fish.

-Alright, this will attract them.- He stood up and walked further from the trap with your gun in his hands.

An hour passed before Jihoon and you heard a growl in the distance which made you both tense in awareness, and then the bear slowly got close as he smelled the goose and fish (Jihoon identified the bear as a male) and grunted, however he soon felt something was off as he lifted a big paw and growled once again coming close to where Jihoon and you were standing, Jihoon was ready to shoot if it came to it signaling for you to move away so you would not get hurt, but then the bear lifted himself in his rear paws and his growl made Jihoon slip and dropping the gun which alerted the bear eliciting more grunts and growls as he put his paws back on the soil and ran towards him but you whistled calling his attention and waving to him as you ran further from him making snarl and growl at you giving Jihoon time to take the gun and stand up once again shooting the bear in the back before he had the chance to attack you, however the blood still got to splash on your clothes which left you shocked staring at Jihoon.

-Do not ever do that again- He scolded you as you only could breathe out your relief.

Back at Seungkwan's house you received another lecture to both of you. To Jihoon for not paying attention to where his feet were standing, and to you for having been so reckless in drawing a bear’s attention towards you.

“I'm sorry but back at the moment I didn't know what else to do” you rambled and Jihoon was the one to translate to Seungkwan as you were in front of Seungkwan's house with the body of the bear.

-Be more careful next time, I don't want the death of 2 people in my subconscious. - Seungkwan bemoaned as he saw you two skinning the bear making him gag in disgust.

-Do not worry, if it ever happens again when we are with you we will be more careful then - Jihoon blurted out.

-Thank you, now don't make me regret having you guys here- Seungkwan mumbled as he entered his house to sleep the thought of your hand skinning the bear away.

That night after you went to sleep the events that occured that evening did not leave you alone, images of the bear getting to and slashing at Jihoon did not sleep at all, prompting you to wake up after you dreamt with the bear. From your position on the floor you saw Jihoon sleeping, and you sighed at seeing he was okay, he was still alive. You knew Jihoon was skilled in shooting but the experience of this day of seeing him face such a beast had shakened you but it seemed he was okay.

However Jihoon was not okay, he stirred in his sleep and woke up when he could not forget the memories of you putting yourself in danger to save him, he had hunted plenty of times before but this time he got so worried about you getting hurt that he did not fully register where his feet stood nor checked if the material was secured enough, and as he woke up he noticed you were up as well and sighed waving at you and you let out a breath you were holding.

“I'm glad you are okay” Jihoon said

“Me too, I will never doubt your skill with a gun ever again” You replied

“Wait, did you ever doubt me?” He questioned your reply, astonished.

“No” you quickly reassured him “but today made me see you can handle anything. I just got worried, but I'm glad we got to hunt today” Jihoon chuckled and you did as well.

“We make a good team, you can not deny it”

“True” Jihoon acknowledged it “let's just plan out any scenarios from now on, don't you think?”

“Yeah” You breathed out, taking in his face, you leaned your body towards him and Jihoon cupped your face, and in a matter of seconds his soft lips were on yours, you were breathing into each other and your lips engaged in a chase for each other, Jihoon gave you repeated small pecks and you caressed his cheeks. When you pulled away you stared into his eyes and smiled at him which he returned.

The next day however, Jihoon and you were happily pretending the kiss never happened, and were acting as if it was any other day and in a silent agreement you would never talk about it again dismissing it as a result of the adrenaline of the day. It was not because of feelings.

As the days passed soon Jihoon and you had gathered everything you needed to keep going, which meant it was time to say goodbye to Seungkwan.

-Thank you for receiving us and having left us sow plants to compensate for what we took from you- Jihoon was translating for you to Seungkwan as you thanked him for everything he had done for you these days. -Oh, and also thank you for not kicking us out after you saw us skin a bear- Jihoon snickered as Seungkwan scoffed.

-I’m still traumatized, you two owe me therapy, you know- Seungkwan whined but even then he could not hide his smile -Also, of you two are going where I think you're going then take this- he took from his pocket a mockingbird pendant handing it over to you - you are gonna need it- you couldn't say you were surprised Seungkwan was part of the Rebellion and that you two were part of it as well, clenching your fist you put it into your backpack, its meaning bigger than you could ever know about.

-Wait but- Jihoon grimaced - do you not want to come with us? - He questioned

-I have a duty to protect my parents’ house and my District, I do not judge you but my fight is here- Seungkwan answered and his answer made sense, he needed to protect his home.

-Either way, thanks for everything Seungkwan, it was a pleasure- Jihoon sincerely thanked him.

-It was an honor to have you here, minus the bear of course - you would miss his sass.

…

Jihoon and you had advanced enough now to get close to the train station of District 9 which transported wheat to the center of District 6. The plan was simple: you would have to jump to the train while it was moving.

Its reigns were moving quickly as the smoke of its motors flowed through the air.

“I go first” you commanded. Running backwards and then forward to gain impulse to then jump, your backpack softening your fall in the empty wagon. “NOW YOU!” You expanded your palms in the air quickly for Jihoon to do it now who was running and at your command he leaned into the side running and jumping towards you, his legs thudded as he fell, breathing hard but then relaxed letting his body rest besides you.

As the train moves, Jihoon and you opt to stay in silence and enjoy the rest from all those stressful days, aware you need to let off part of the pressure you’ve been feeling.

Jihoon and you were laying next to each other, his head resting on your shoulder as he slept and you looked at the view and his face, smiling at how peaceful he looked right now.

…

As the days passed, Jihoon and you were finally in District 6.

Now you would have to remain low, not drawing any attention towards you, so Jihoon and you were using hoods to hide your faces.

Unlike District 9, you would have to remain away from the people as there were so many factories that were guarded by peacekeepers, thus, you needed to lay low to survive while you were here and bought water, seeds, batteries, knives and two tents to sleep in with the little money you had and then go to the forest to sleep there.

“I have an idea” Jihoon informed you that evening while you two ate dinner in front of the fire. “One of us can sleep while the other one watches if a peacekeeper is close.” It was a great idea, since that way you could take care of him and vice versa while the other one watched over your little camp.

When your second turn of watching over the camp happened it seemed mostly calm, until you heard the snapping of branches in the distance, as well as circumference cuts in your radio.

‘SNAP SNAP’

You quickly turned around trying to make the minimum sound possible looking at all sides of the forest, turning off the radio and hiding it under a bush, and taking your dagger and two knives with you, the gun would make a lot of noise, as you saw from if Jihoon's tent was open you quietly sighed after seeing it was closed, and you got further into the forest trying to see where the sound was coming from.

‘SQUEAK SQUEAK’

Now you heard and saw some squirrels running around, and they rarely did so during winter. There was definitely someone else in the forest. You crouched trying to look where they were with the binoculars you were carrying. To your far right side you saw three peacekeepers, you looked at Jihoon's tent again and you knew you had to distract them from getting to him.

Quietly you went to where the fire was lit and grabbed a log, hissing in pain when the heat burned you but still kept it in your hand, leaving cinders fall when you were more into the forest thus drawing the attention away from Jihoon, once you were away enough, you whistled and hummed the mockingbird song and drumming in a tree to then move next to another one and do the same again and again; it took less than ten minutes for you to hear the sound of a gun.

‘CLICK’

Holding your breath and using your binoculars you attacked him, launching your dagger at his throat, the sound of the slash spreading through the air, treading carefully you took your bloodied dagger from his throat and his gun as well draping it around your shoulder, going for the next two.

…

‘SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK’

Jihoon shifted his weight on his mattress

‘SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK'

‘HOO HOO’

Jihoon stirred over his covers until he sat after having his precious sleep disturbed and rubbing his eyes as he got out of his tent, growing alarmed as he saw you were not there. Sure, as it was your turn watching over the camp you would have to walk around but he saw that the radio was flipped over a bush and turned off. Worried, Jihoon took his axe and tried to follow for any hint you might have left behind.

Indeed you did after he saw footprints in a corner to his left, but getting close to them he saw the size and width of the footprints were not similar to yours at all and when he turned around he saw a peacekeeper pointing his gun at him. And then he shot but Jihoon moved quickly running and hiding behind a tree. Breathing and gaining courage Jihoon screamed to his right side

-AAAGH!!!-

But Jihoon actually moved to the left and threw his axe aiming at a forest hoping to scare the peacekeeper, which he did and when he turned around Jihoon took his axe back and pressed it into the head of the peacekeeper. Jihoon breathed hard as he removed his axe and from the peacekeeper’s head and groaned when a little bit of his blood fell over his shoes. Great, Jihoon would have to wash them now. But now you were on his mind, Jihoon needed to find you, and with that thought he turned to his left side to keep looking for you.

…

The heat of the log was still burdensome and you feared the fire would eventually burn your head but you tried to ignore it as you were looking for the other two peacekeepers, your binoculars helping you see in the darkness, as you lowered your head you saw a liquid body on the soil, crouching to touch it you felt the iron smell that was now on your index and medium fingers: blood.

Looking ahead for a body you found a dead peacekeeper with a nasty wound on the head but as you looked at the edges you saw that it must have been the result of an axe. Which meant Jihoon killed him.

…

Jihoon got tackled to the ground as a peacekeeper had found him on his way to a nearby river hoping to find you. Jihoon had caught the peacekeeper off guard kicking him on the shin and was able to elbow him and take his gun, but his foil had grabbed him from his knees and tackled him and in the struggle Jihoon let go of his axe; smart move, Jihoon would have to give him that, but at least Jihoon was able to throw the gun into the frozen river, cracking the ice and falling into the water which made the peacekeeper yell at Jihoon in rage.

-AAAHH!!- And he then overpowered Jihoon grabbing his neck and squeezing it with astounding strength making Jihoon choke, feeling his vision go blurry but then a slash cut through the air landing in the side of the torso of the peacekeeper making him scream in pain. Jihoon then saw how the peacekeeper launch himself at you, making you let go of a gun and a lit log, but you responded by taking the log with your bare hands and pressing it into the peacekeeper's chest, rolling him over to the ground, though even then the peacekeeper was able to kick you in the stomach but you were also able to stab him with a knives in his shoulder blade.

As you were fighting Jihoon got up and with the strength he could master went for his axe and plunged it into the peacekeeper's back and then lifted him him up dropping him off into the ground and plunged the axe again into his head, his blood splashing into both Jihoon’s face and your face.

Letting go of his axe, Jihoon helped you get up and you covered his frame with his arms, embracing and smelling his hair and you tried to both explain and apologize for the situation.

“There were three of them, I'm so sorry Hoon, I should have been more aware” you sobbed but Jihoon shook his head. “No, no, don't apologize, we are fine now okay, we both are fine.” And with that you two hugged again.

The next day after you woke up you were cleaning your wounds in the river, though the contrast of the cold water with the burnt skin of your hands made you hiss in pain. You needed to do it but it was agonizing, it was then that Jihoon got into the river, taking your hands into his and letting the water do it's work as he let your head fall into his shoulder as you breathed in and out; once the pain subsided you let him bandage you and your stomach fluttered when he kissed your hands.

You looked into his eyes and melted at his eyes watching you with adoration and love, his left hand went to your cheek and then he stood on his toes to kiss you, expressing his love and longing for you with each peck, bite and caress of your lips; after Jihoon pulled his head to breathe you kissed his cheek which made him chuckle.

“I love you Jihoon, I always have” You confessed

“Me too y/n, I can't believe I let this go on unsaid for so long, I don't want to imagine a world in which you are not there, I'm afraid to lose you one day.” He signed in flowy movements.

“You won't” you promised, hugging him and letting his head fall onto your chest.

3 Weeks later you finally made it to District 13, your relationship with Jihoon having evolved, no longer concealed by dreams or avoidance you just let it be.

-S, S, M, Y/n and I are here.- Jihoon muttered to the radio as well as sending the Morse code of arrival.

-Got it J, we will go for you- Seokmin's voice flowed through the air, you missed hearing his voice.

1 hour and a half later an elevator from the earth lifted itself, revealing to be carrying Seokmin and 2 soldiers.

-Hi guys, sorry I got late, but needed to bring security and the procedure to come for you.- His smile was bright and it was nice since it was like seeing the sun in the winter and Jihoon seemed to share the feeling.

-It’s okay Seokmin, after all, we need to catch up, don't we?- Jihoon muttered and Seokmin’s eyes traveled to your joined hands with Jihoon, the surprise and glee in his eyes pouring out through his expressions.

-I agree Jihoon, I agree.- Seokmin beamed

However after Coin proved to be just as corrupt as President Snow , the Rebellion was torn if it was right to keep living in District 13 but Katniss Everdeen made a speech about the importance of the spirit of resistance and to live the life our lost loved would have wished for us.

And thus, Jihoon and you chose to stay in District 13 and live together in a better house. Soon Jihoon got to work as a civil engineer and bioengineer, flattering you when he said he got inspired by you with your knowledge, whereas you had become a healer and owner of your own apothecary, assisted by Jihoon and Sunyoung.

Sunyoung had teased you endlessly when she learned about Jihoon and you, having mentioned how she always knew it would eventually happen and that she expected to be your maid of honor in the wedding flustering you.

Jihoon and you were finally able to accept you could survive together if you were in a relationship and finally be able to simply live and give yourselves a better life because of it, and even considering the option to adopt a child in the future.

“We are happy, aren’t we?” Jihoon asked you one day when you were out in the forest, after it got treatment for sowings, enjoying the feeling of the sun now it was spring.

“We are Jihoon, more than we could ever be before” you told him smiling and as he returned your smile you kissed him, enjoying the feeling of being with him and finally being able to love yourselves freely without fear.

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