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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 1 year

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Meeting and Dating Patrick Verona

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(One of the titans has finally been completed. Amen.)

- When you first heard about the rumors that surrounded Patrick Verona, you’d genuinely thought that they were jokes. Lit a state trooper on fire, sold his own liver to buy a new set of speakers: were your classmates like actually serious?

- It was funny the first few times the gossip came up in conversation but after a while, it just started to get a little sad. You were in high school and your peers were still just as gullible as the kids who got scared by the drip, drip story or the tale of the clown statue.

- Admittedly, the delinquent occasionally intimidated you as well, but you were scared of him the same way you’d be scared of any other person at your school; particularly someone as openly hostile as he was. He wasn’t an arson enthusiast or a criminal in your eyes, he was just a guy who’d maybe humiliate you or purposefully inconvenience you if you happened to get on his nerves one day.

- And yet, regardless of this fear, you still couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him and developing an interest. You considered him completely out of your league and entirely unattainable: someone who would never even think to look your way and who probably already had a beautiful girlfriend who was way cooler than you in every conceivable way possible.

- It’s the reason why you placated yourself with silent devotion instead of actually acting upon your feelings: why you opted for secret glances and daydreams that nobody else would ever find out about or catch on to; unless they were monitoring you 24/7 and/or had a probe in your silly little lovestruck brain.

- Yet someone did catch onto it, the exact same person your affections were pointed towards....

- A lot of people look at Patrick; a lot of people stare and a lot of people look away quickly when he manages to catch them. He’s generally pretty used to it. What he isn’t used to is a pretty girl acting all timid and embarrassed when she accidentally meets his eyes: not disgusted by or scared of him but actually kind of shy.

- It takes him a little while to realize it; to notice the difference between your gaze and everyone else’s, but when he does finally manage to put a finger on it, he finds it sort of amusing. You like him. Cute....

- It’s not cute for you though, not when he confronts you at you locker and asks you why you’re always staring at him, a fake smile plastered across his face; grin looking more like bared teeth than an actual sign of genuine kindness. It’s not cute when he begins putting words into your mouth as you struggle to explain, watching you closely as you nervously deny his ideas; up until he mentions how “maybe you just have a crush on him”.

- It’s completely humiliating staring at the floor as you anticipate his response, waiting for his laughter or something equally cruel to come after the realization inevitably dawns on him. Yet all he does is let out an interested hum before he turns and walks away, leaving you standing at your locker, wondering if you’ll even be able to face him the next day in class.

- Fortunately for you; or perhaps unfortunately, you’ve officially sparked his interest, and now that he knows you have a thing for him, he’s determined to get to know you and see how deep this infatuation of yours goes; along with whether or not you’re actually worth his time.

- He doesn’t ask you out just yet but he does start to hang around you a bit, testing you every now and again, pushing your buttons in order to get a grasp of your personality. In the beginning, he tries to intimidate you: corners you a little, gives you blank stares, takes your things and refuses to give them back until he decides he’s gotten what he’s looking for.

- That’s how the shift in his personality begins: he snatches your pencil case off your desk just as the bell rings and subsequently forces you to follow him, letting you tail him awkwardly down the hallway as he tosses it up and down in the air. You expect his usual tough guy attitude but when he finally whirls around to face you, he gives you a slightly curious look and “asks” if you’re afraid of him.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

“Not really.” You sigh in response, slightly nervous to find out what he’s trying to get at.

“Most people are.” He comments, his hands ceasing their throwing and catching as he walks closer to you.

“Most people think you ate an entire duck.” You respond.

“Maybe I did,” He says before he begins to grin. “Though I do prefer eating other things.”

“Pencils?” You ask, glancing down at your pencil case that he’s still holding onto.

- When you look back up at his face, you’re somewhat surprised to see that there’s a genuine smile pulling at his lips. He hands you the pencil case and you take it, glancing at him one last time before walking away.

- Like I said before: shift in behavior. Suddenly, everybody's favorite juvenile delinquent is acting like the two of you are best friends, sitting with you like it’s the most normal thing in the world for him to do and conversing/flirting with you whenever he can. He even starts following you around after school, somehow constantly running into you and almost always teasingly insisting that he goes there all the time.

- After a while, you just start to get used to it: expect him to be there and sit with you and flirt between every other breath of his. You start to flirt back too, loosening up as you realize he isn’t out to get you and bantering with him whenever he tries to go around and tease you.

- The two of you just start to click: your true personalities shining through and molding together far better than either of you could have ever anticipated. He surprises you with how different from your expectations he winds up being and yet, he’s everything you could have wished for and more. He feels the same way about you.

- So it’s no surprise when he tells you that he’ll take you to that one event you’ve been gushing about whenever you see flyers for it on your daily hangouts or pass the part of town it’s being held in. And in the middle of it, when he looks at you and your excited face like you hung the moon and the stars, its no surprise when he grabs you by the face and kisses you, gentle and loving and sweet.

- And it’s no surprise when you find yourselves unable to stop for the rest of the night, clinging to and kissing each other like two lovestruck dorks. You’re certain you’ll be that way for the rest of your lives....

- One of the best parts of dating Patrick is seeing him go from an intimidating badass to a clingy lovestruck fool who worships the ground you walk on. He might of let his more sensitive side show before the two of you started dating but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer amount of affection and devotion that pours out of him the minute he decides that he loves you. Suddenly he’s doting on you like his life depends on it: holding and touching you as much as he can and adoring every inch of you. Not to mention his infatuation with receiving the same level of affection from you.

- That being said: he still likes to portray himself as an intimidating badass so the pda in your relationship is definitely a little varied. He almost always likes having some form of contact with you but it changes depending on your company: cycling through handholding, arms around your shoulders, tight grips on your thighs, and full on makeout sessions. When you first start hanging out, people wont be able to tell if you’re close friends, dating, just plain hooking up, being held hostage, or hiring him as your bodyguard.

- He particularly likes kissing your neck but he tends to just kiss everywhere he can reach. Wrists, hands, shoulders, face, head, neck: everywhere.

- Slow, soft, loving, and deep kisses: that’s a lot of adjectives but his kisses deserve and warrant them. The two of you get lost in them and he tends not to care who sees; hopefully you aren’t terribly embarrassed by your peers catching him tonguing you on the school benches since most of your kisses evolve into makeout sessions.

- He smacked that security guards ass, you're telling me he wouldn't pat yours on occasion as well?

- That being said, on a sweeter note, he also has a habit of brushing your hair behind your ear. You both keep extra hair ties on your wrists for each other; regardless of how common it is for either of you to use them or not.

- He typically chooses to be the big spoon when the two of you cuddle but more often than not, you just wind up in a tangle of limbs and hair. He’s a pretty big fan of cuddling so you’re found in bed together pretty often; usually with him using you as a teddy bear or doing other things....

- He likes being called “pretty boy” and I refuse to believe otherwise.

- Speaking of terms of endearment: he tends to call you girlie and “my girl”, as well as princess, angel and a menagerie of other pet names. Sometimes he uses them just to make you roll your eyes but he doesn’t necessarily use them sarcastically: he just makes his affectionate outbursts look like jokes.

- He likes to praise himself for you but he also just loves when you say nice things about him in general; though he takes your insults as compliments too so anything you say to him is generally appreciated regardless of it’s contents. Love language isn’t really the right way to describe it; since he partakes in pretty much every single type, but for lack of a better word, praise is a big part of his love language and it being used totally unprompted is perfectly normal for him.

“How did I get such an amazing girlfriend?”

- That being said: gift giving is also a pretty big part of his love language; even if he doesn’t always have the money to buy you an $800 dollar guitar. He proves that much to you when you first get together and he gets you a necklace with his initial on it; or something of the sort. He was a little shy about giving it to you since you were still getting used to each other but he was fully prepared to carve your name into his chest so he was kind of just hoping you loved him as much as he loved you.

- But money isn’t everything, especially when you frequent thrift stores! I’m not entirely sure if Patrick would have gone to them on his own but he’d definitely develop a fondness for them after being introduced to them by you.

- Your smile is his favorite sight to see and your laughter is like music to his ears: seeing you happy makes him happy; even when he wants to be annoyed with you. It’s part of the reason why he sort of just goes along with whatever you want to do and acts like a bit of a pushover. When he really likes a girl, his reputation and machismo goes out the window: he’s willing to look a little lame if it really means something to you; even if he puts up a bit of a fight in the beginning.

- He’ll pull out some random grand and extravagant gesture just to make you forgive him after a fight or cheer you up after a rough day, and he’ll deem any consequence that arises from it as worth it. If you asked him for a rock, he'd give you the moon and you’ll be well aware of that from the start of your relationship.

- Speaking of his unyielding devotion: it isn’t uncommon for him to act like your knight in shining armor whenever an unfortunate situation occurs. Got stuck babysitting? Guess he’s babysitting too. Car broke down? He’s driving four hours at midnight just to come and pick you up. Left your important assignment at home? He’ll cut class just to get it for you.

- Him cutting class is an unfortunate habit of his and more often than not, you’ll also be involved in it in one way or another: whether he’s cutting just to come and sit with you in your class, in order to walk you to your next one, or forcing you to actually cut with him.

- Patrick getting in trouble isn’t going to go away anytime soon but he does tone it down a bit for your sake. You can’t spend a whole lot of time with him when he’s in and out of detention and all it took for him to prioritize that over being a little shit was you canceling your plans, hanging out with someone else, or telling him sadly that you really wanted to see him. The thought of it became like 80% of his impulse control whether he wants to admit it or not.

- He genuinely gets frustrated when you don’t get to spend a lot of time with each other. He can spend days with you at a time and not get tired of it so when you have to keep cancelling plans or have your dates hijacked by friends of yours, you’ll find that he gets huffy over the fact that he can’t be alone with you. He’s not afraid to admit that he only came somewhere because he wanted to be with you or that he’s upset over the fact that you forgot you were supposed to go out with him and you find it kind of adorable.

- It’s probably part of the reason why he’s willing to drive cross country with you in order to go see some special event that’s taking place a couple states away; or whatever other day/road trips you’d be willing to go on. It’s like micro dosing on being married to you and having you all to himself and he secretly loves it to death.

- Random fun little dates. Going to the amusement park, the circus, bowling, laser tag, paint ball, paddle boats, etc. He loves just letting loose and having fun and though they might be slightly juvenile, you guys can put the juvenile in juvenile delinquent.

- Friendly competitions.

- Play wrestling. He doesn’t just let you win so I hope you’re somewhat dedicated to beating him; even if it is a losing fight. You might think you’re getting the upper hand on occasion but he almost always perseveres and wins; mainly because he was only momentarily letting you think you were getting the best of him. That being said: your dedication is probably due in part to the fact that wrestling with you gives him a bit of a hard-

- Beach dates. The place reminds him of home; his childhood home at least.

- Movie dates. He doesn’t even mind if you want raisinets! But he does somewhat force you to hold his hand the entire time, even if it’s a little impractical whenever you want to get some popcorn, so I guess that’s how you pay him back for it.

- Going to his favorite bars and clubs with him. If it isn’t your style than he isn’t going to force you into doing something that’s arguably not in your best interests, but he may try to “broaden your horizons” and he’s certainly always over the moon and all smiles when you decide to surprise him with your presence.

- Dancing along to music with each other.

- Going record/CD shopping. He has a surprising affinity for oldies and every now and again, he’ll play them on the radio or on vinyl and you’ll tease him about being an old soul while he gathers you into his arms. It probably started during the time he spent with his grandfather if we’re being realistic.

- Doing random couples crafts. I don’t even know why, I think it’s the tank top and the tied up hair combo we saw on him: it just makes me think of you guys like tie dying shirts in your backyard or doing pottery together, etc.

- He definitely gives you his shop(?) class projects and at a certain point, begins to tailor them towards your own personal tastes. He’ll sit down beside you and act like he’s semi-disgusted by his work while he inspects it with you, nonchalantly offering you it while ignoring how it perfectly matches your room décor and acting like he’d just throw it away if you didn’t want it.

- He definitely offers you sexual favors in exchange for you doing his school assignments or things of the sort. He also probably “taxes you” when he does favors for you: almost always asking for kisses; even though he’ll joke about “settling for them”.

- He definitely makes jokes about your sex life to random people while you sit at his side with your face in your hands; he gets amused by their flustered reactions. It’s usually things like wiggling his eyebrows and telling your friends that you “were with him all night” when they ask where you were or turning to you and asking if you “think he has the skills of a pornstar” when someone asks about the rumors that get spread around school about him. He makes a lot of sexual remarks and innuendos in general so it’s just sort of something you’ll have to get used to.

- Teasing and playfully bickering with each other.

- Stealing each others fries and shooting the paper off your straws at each other when you go to fast food joints.

- He has a slight oral fixation: almost always being caught with something in his mouth. Toothpicks, cigarettes, pens, you, gum, etc.

- He doesn't listen or adhere to any of that “astronomy bullshit” but he suddenly acts like he’s a true supporter and believer the minute it mentions true love or points to the two of you being soulmates or something of the sort.

- He has a shrine to you in his room; that’s the only way I can describe it. Photos of you, all of the gifts you’ve given him; no matter how small, that he cherishes, etc: it’s all there and on full display. It’s truly adorable.

- Patrick genuinely enjoys taking care of you: like not only does he consider it his job as your boyfriend but he genuinely loves the feeling of being needed. Catching you when you fall, urging you not to do something stupid, giving you little massages, fetching things for you, etc. He’s not easily deterred or grossed out and he’s also particularly hot when he’s playing babysitter/nurse so you don’t usually mind it.

- It might take him a little while to open up but he does enjoy telling you about himself and all of his secrets. He also likes to hear everything about you as well: what you’re thinking, your favorite childhood stories, your family life, your day to day drama, etc. He’s surprisingly good at lending you an ear and giving you advice/comforting words. You often find yourself having long and deep conversations.

- He’s honestly more invested in your life than you are. He’s very passionate about gossiping with you and finding out about all the drama in your friend groups and family. He acts like anyone who’s wronged you personally wronged him.

- Speaking of: he’s the kind of boyfriend who you send to talk to your friends/little siblings when they’re having a rough time and need to hear advice from someone who doesn’t particularly sugar coat things/care about hurting them. He’s very good at consoling your loved ones without fucking them: like, you never have to worry about his comforting pats on the back turning into groping.

- He also just talks to your friends in order to be better and do nice things for you. He’s an honorary member of girls night because he’s so chill and able to blend in without acting like a creep or like your boyfriend™.

- Speaking of friends: he has that one punk friend and I think if your parents or friends are really conservative, they’d be horrified to see that you’re both dating Patrick and subsequently friends with a kid that looks like every parents worst nightmare. He’s chill though: and he’s good at passing on messages or comforting you when you’re arguing with Patrick.

- Patrick finds it really hot when you get jealous over him. He likes the feeling of you being possessive over him and wanting everybody to know that you’re an item: probably because he wants to; and already has, announced over the loudspeaker that you’re his.

- Speaking of: Patrick is a pretty jealous person but not necessarily in the way that you’d probably expect. He doesn’t mind that people find you hot and trusts that you aren’t gonna cheat on him, but he still can’t help but dislike when people show obvious interest in you or encroach upon his time with you. Most of his jealousy arises from you showing favoritism to somebody else; even if it’s purely platonic. He knows that you’re just friends but playing second fiddle to somebody else just plain irks him.

- Considering his reputation, it’s pretty rare for anybody to mess with you. You get to turn off your brain for a while whenever you go out with him and just focus on enjoying yourself. That being said: he can turn from wild bad boy to protective father in an instant if he feels a situation calls for it.

- The two of you don’t argue a ton; at least not seriously. You’re more likely to bicker like an old married couple than you are to have a genuine fight. Although, when you do fight, he tends to remain as calm as he can or leave for a while so he can sort himself out; occasionally making a biting comment or trying to kiss you which only winds up making things considerably worse.

- Patrick is a man who begs and grovels and bothers you into working things out with him whenever you’re mad at him. He hates the silent treatment and borders between miserably keeping his distance and doing everything in his power to get you to talk to him; even telling people you’re sitting with to scram because you keep insisting you’re busy with them instead of speaking with him.

- If you’re the one in the wrong, he might also give you the silent treatment; or hold a bit of a grudge, but he’s typically pretty quick to forgive you; mainly because he misses you and wants to be together again. He definitely makes you laugh and promise between kisses that you’ve both forgiven each other and that something “like this” is never gonna happen again.

- The two of you joke around a lot when it comes to saying “I love you” but he does genuinely enjoy saying it and hearing you say it back to him. He’s kind of obsessed with it actually, and he sometimes smiles at you and says it so sincerely for no good reason at all that it genuinely makes you feel like crying; in the nicest way possible.

- Good luck getting rid of him because he’s genuinely kind of obsessed with you. He’s never really had such an honest and real connection with someone before and he’s kind of convinced that he’ll never have another one again so he’ll fight to the death to keep you by his side. So yeah, expect a ring on that finger in the future and a near perfect Aussie husband.

#patrick verona imagine #patrick verona headcanons #patrick verona imagines #patrick verona headcanon #10 things i hate about you #10 things i hate about you imagines #10 things i hate about you imagine #10 things i hate about you headcanon #10 things i hate about you headcanons #90s movie imagine #90s movie headcanons #90s movie imagines #90s movie headcanon

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classyinnie · 10 months

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He hates you.

He hates the way you wear your emotions on your sleeves. It’s excruciatingly endearing to find your gentleness in a world that does nothing but provide you with worries. He hates how, despite your doubts and trepidations, you still look at it with such wonder one couldn’t even fathom or place.

He'd always wondered how such a pure soul—beaten and calloused—can look at the endless possibilities before them and believe they’re worth it.

He considered he might be a coward then, for don’t we all have fears that stop us from stepping beyond the line that confines our capabilities?

He hates your gentleness. How you look at people like they hold the world in their hands. How you listen intently to everything they have to say. How you would offer a hand even if your arms are already full.

He hates the way you wear kindness. How it’s perfectly knitted to your skin, it’s almost second nature. He hates how you would go out of your way to put others before yourself.

"Selfless", he would call you.

"Pushover", he would label you.

But insults were a mere façade to the raging questions in his head as to how. How do you have so much to give?

But most of all, he hates himself for not hating you. Not even a fraction.

You are like a printed polaroid; he wants to vigorously shake to reveal the entire picture.

A pipe dream, that’s what you are. But that doesn't erase the fact that he once stooped so low to even—in his unabashed desperation—consider asking himself if he is worthy enough to experience what it's like to be cared for by you.

—Tsukishima, Iwaizumi, KYOTANI, Osamu, KAGEYAMA, Kenma, Sakusa, Suna

#II. –⚜ jasswrites.#silent lovers pt.2 #inspired by 10 things i hate about you #i love these boys so much #let’s ignore the fact that tsuki is in every hc <3 #haikyu imagines #hq x reader #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu headcanons #Tsukishima Headcanons #tsukishima x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #kyotani x reader #osamu x reader #kageyama x reader #kenma headcanon #sakusa hc #suna headcanons

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ledgerserious8 · 4 months

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Put A Love | Patrick Verona & Reader

Warning : Don't copy my writing Don't steal my writing. All rights are reserved for my writing

Genre : Love Smut

Summary : Patrick Need To Love You..

Word count : 7.7k

Part two of : A Shoulder To Cry

After two weeks of this letter you didn't tell anyone about it but you keep thinking about who could be sending you this love letter but all the sighs meaning one person...

Just Patrick..

Patrick was hiding himself against the tree of your new alone house He looked exhausted and seemed sad, his eyes showed how much he had suffered during these weeks

He needed you need your attention your love and everything in you His heart was broken that's made him throw A stone on your room window

'Please notice me" - he mumbled

But you keep Reading your book you was too foucs and into your little own world just thinking about everything can keep you off the world

He kept throwing stones, but you didn't look, your focus was on your book but he took a chance and ran towards the balcony, he banged his fist on the glass of your window

"Hey! Y/n" - he called you as looking at you as Patrick felt hopeless and dejected

He was shocked by how beautiful you was your bright eyes, your soft hair, your pretty lips everything on you was perfect

Patrick sighed and said - "Finally you see me" as sighing in relief

You come and opened your window to make him enter your room and he replied to you by a soft smile

'What do you want?" - you asked him calmly.

"You know what I want" he approached closer to the balcony.

The moonlight highlighted his eyes as he looked at her, he smiled his most charming smile

"You're the one I've been dreaming about all the time." - He whispered as looking into your eyes

You widen your eyes as your fingers holding the letter and he noticed it it's made him smiling more and looked back at you

'Was it you?" - You whispered after noticing his eyes seeing the letter

Patrick was delighted when you recognized the letter With his heart pounding, he slowly walked closer to you and took both your hands

He gently squeezed your hands and said - "Yes it’s me, it’s always me"

His eyes seemed to search for your approval, he needed you so much

"I am the one who wrote that letter, I can't explain how much you mean to me or how much I need you, I can't live without you." - Patrick added confidently

He didn't hold himself anymore so his fingers caressed your cheeks, your heart beat rapidly, the more he caressed, the thicker your breathing became faster than before

The moonlight created the perfect setting for this moment, his hands on your cheeks and his breath on your face made you melt into his touch as Patrick's heart beat like a drum in his chest, his every motion sent goosebumps on your skin

Patrick was lost in the heat of the moment, your soft skin felt heavenly He traced the shape of your face with his fingers, his breath brushing against your cheeks and nose

Patrick's heart was beating faster than ever as he looked down into your eyes, searching for a response from your mouth

'Are you serious?" - you whispered as looking into his eyes trying to searching for answers

Patrick hesitated for a moment before replying - "Yes, I am as serious as I've ever been in my life. I've never felt this way about anyone before.

I care for you more than anything else " - he whispered as took your hands into his and kissed them a soft kiss

Patrick looked into your eyes lovingly and longingly as he leaned into you, his face was just a few inches away He waited for a sign from you, hoping that you felt the same way

The tension in the air was palpable, the chemistry between them almost electric

'Say it" he whispered with deep voice as looking into your eyes and his hands cupped your face.

Patrick felt his body trembling from the urge to kiss you He was just inches away, and all he needed was the permission from you

"Say it, be my baby" - he whispered softly as leaning even closer

Patrick couldn't resist anymore, he had to know if you felt the same way but there's a simple hope into his heart for your next words

You keep silent as blushing just the look at him made you speechless it's made Patrick laughed softly at your cutest expression

"Tell me that you want me too" - He said with a smile as his fingers playing with your cheeks

"That you want this too That you are just as desperate to be with me as I am with you." - Patrick added softly as looking into your eyes

'That you're dreaming of me hugging you kissing you over and over"

'That you're dreaming of me put my love into your heart into your life"

'And into your body"

You keep silent but feeling your body temperature getting higher making him smirking noticed his effect on you and how your breath becomes heavily just because of him

'You already know i love you too" - you replied softly making him melting as his breath hitting the skin of your face

This was all he needed

Patrick didn't waste a second and closed the distance between the both of you, his hands went on your cheeks as his lips took your mouth against his as The kiss was full of desire, the both of your tongues intertwined and your bodies pressed against each other

It was a kiss that would make the both of you forget there was ever a world apart and your fingers moved making a way to touch his curly black hair

All of the emotions he had been bottling up inside of him finally overflowed in this moment, and he couldn't contain himself any longer.

Patrick's hands ran down your body, caressing your back and waist, all he could think about was this feeling, this connection he had never felt before

The kiss became more passionate as the both of you held each other so tight, his lips exploring every inch of your mouth, his body pressing against yours and his tongue licked your lips lightly

'Patrick" - you whispered but his long finger put on your lips to stop you from speaking

'Shh..tonight just our love" - he whispered back to you as smirking while looking at your shiny eyes and then at your lips

Patrick wanted nothing more than to be close to you in that moment, he wanted the both of your bodies to melt together and His hands were running through your hair, pulling it gently as he did, you was so beautiful in his dark brown eyes

He couldn't believe he was finally holding you and kissing you and put his truly love in your heart and body, the bad boy's dream had come true because of you

But suddenly...you felt him pick you up

Patrick lifted you in his arms and pulled you close to his body, he looked at you and could feel your heavily breath on his face The connection between the both of you was so intense that he wanted to lose himself in it so badly

your body fit perfectly into his larger frame, and it seemed like the both of you were made for each other Patrick's heart was beating so quickly as His lips moved from your mouth down to your neck, kissing and nibbling you gently. He wanted to take this moment in forever

Patrick laid you on your bed of your room, slowly running his hands alongside your body, enjoying your soft skin He wanted to touch you everywhere and explore every inch of your body, his tongue ran along your neck and your ear, making you biting your bottom lip

'Patrick I.." - you whispered but again he put his finger on your lips caressing your lips gently

"May I...?" - he mumbled as looking into your eyes, their breath was heavy and the both of your eyes locked with each other

You didn't answer..you lost control so you just nodded.

Patrick continued to kiss your neck, his hands slowly starting to move down you body He was so attracted to you and every part of you

He wanted to feel you body against him He started kissing your lips, your jaw, your ears, everywhere he could reach He was so lost in the moment, it felt like the two of them were the only ones in the room.

Patrick's exploration continued, and he was enjoying every reaction coming from you by his touch and kisses

You was so sensitive, and he was enjoying the way you was gasping and moaning with every move he did to your body He wanted to keep going, to keep exploring your body, to make you enjoy this time with him as much as possible.

'Oh..Patrick" - you moaned softly as closing your eyes and your hands wrapped around his back to pulled him closer to you feeling his body against yours

'Feel good babygirl?" - he whispered as asking you softly while he was sucking your earlobe and neck by his tongue

'S-so good" - you whispered back as biting your bottom lip and trying to take his black shirt off because you was needing him so much as much he need you

'I think you should do something" - he asked you softly making you keep looking at him as nodded gently

You understand what's he was meaning so you moved and get closer to him and started kissing his neck and gave him a love bites making him groaned your name softly

He asking you for more and don't want you to stop while your hands was taking his black shirt off

His body was manly like a gentleman not just a...good bad boy

'Y/n...baby" - he groaned softly as letting his fingers through your hair and back

You pulled him closer to as you throw his black shirt somewhere on the floor of the room and he did it you was just loved how his skin color and body was look perfect and suit you

He put you back on the bed making your head resting on the pillow and kissing your neck and lips passionately he was so hungry for everything about you

He want to kiss and touch every inch of you that Patrick Verona felt he can't get enough of you as his true love and everything he had need in his life

Take this off - he whispered as breaking the kiss and trying to take your shirt off so he could see your body and chest wearing bar but he want you to be naked for him

By one move from his fingers he just put your shirt up and take it off as throw it on the floor of the room with his black shirt

But after a few seconds his jeans and pants decided to join the floor too..

And your eyes seeing this pretty boy was just smiling as looking at your body and breasts wearing a dark pinky bar

'Can you stop staring" - you mumbled as avoiding looking at his eyes making him smirking

'I can staring at what mine any time i want right sweetie?" - he asked you teasingly as smiling at you sweaty face making you blushing under his gaze

He smiled more as started to unclipped your bra off so your breasts showing out for him letting him kissing and sucking your neck trying to make you ready for his next move and be in pleasure always

But Suddenly you let out a soft moan from your mouth after feeling his mouth captured one of your nipples as he keep sucking on it making you turned on and be needy for him he knew how to do that well

'Patrick..please" - you moaned out as your hands grabbed the bedsheet while closing your eyes as begging him to be hurry

You needed him..he made you needed him a lot

'Music in my ears" - he confessed as smiling at your your moans for him it's was so perfect for him to keep going

You closed your eyes because you never see your body is beautiful or good to be for him but his moves on your body make your lips let out a moans after make his fingers playing with your clothed clit slowly

By his fingers..he loved fingerling you

"So much wetness" - he mumbled while keep doing his job by his fingers

It's made you moaning a lot and god that bad boy was loving the melody of your moans running into his ears

He was eating you out by his fingers and without keep waiting he start pushing two finger inside of your clit

It's made your moans sounds becomes louder for him and you felt him smirking about it He can noticed your sweat on your face from up to down

'So wet for your bad boy" - he whispered in low huskily tone as pushed three finger inside of your wetness pussy

He didn't get a reply from you because you whimpering and trying to catch your breath he made your heart beating faster he can feel you was enjoying it so much

'Patrick please i need you" - you whispered as your fingers grabbed the bedsheet

He keep silent he wanted to eating you out and make you cum by his mouth but he felt he can't say no to you because he can see how seriously you want him to put his love into you

'As you wish baby" - he whispered in deep voice as smirking showing his teeth and his fingers just took your pants off

He wanted you to be calm and relaxed for him so he put a few soft kisses on your inner thighs again and again making you breathing heavily more then before

'Ready sweetheart?" - he asked you softly as looking at your eyes waiting for simple answer even if he knew you're ready he will just wait to hear you say it

It's was just a permission before everything

'Yes my Patrick I'm" - you whispered as put a smile and nodded at him

That's making him smiling because he loved the idea of you called him 'Your Patrick" making know that you're his and he's yours now and forever

He closed his eyes as He grabbed your hand with his his fingers locked with yours like romantic scene as he hide his face against your neck and hair you fell him started placing a trail of kisses on your neck

And you felt his cock push inside of your pussy gently and carefully guide himself inside of you he just making you moaned out softly but Patrick was so gentle with you like you were made of glass

And he doesn't want to break that glass..

'So please" - you whispered softly while you can feel him smirking

'Because it's us" - he replied as kissing your earlobe with smile on his sweaty face

He started thrust inside of you and you was so tight but you started feeling pleasure by because he pick up his speed he want to make you feel him...feel how he put his love into you

your moans made him almost losing control his sweaty chest started raising up and down like he was losing his breath and he knew you was the reason of it

'See how I'm losing my breath because of you" - he whispered as biting your earlobe and giving your neck love bites

The both of you was into your little own world but you can feel the bed started shaking by the movement of your bodies the walls was hearing your moans and his groans

Suddenly The sound of rain started hearing outside the window and the both of you didn't care because you was moaning his name and he was doing the same thing with you

You was in pleasure and he does too as the both of you was enjoying it too and his fingers keep grabbed the bedsheets and your hair was sticking to your forehead making you looked sexiest more in his eyes

""P-Patrick I can't take it" - you moaned as he keep thrusts inside of you and closed his eyes trying to control himself and forget your voice tone

'So hot like hell" he whispered as opened his lustful eyes and staring at you

'Let's cum together" - he added huskily as trying to speak more but you cut him off by kissing him making him forget everything about the world

A kiss during making love...it's was Patrick's favorite moments

You just kissed him passionately and he kissed you back as keep thrust inside of you faster then before you could feel the bed keep shaking with your legs around his waist

Everything becomes blur because the both of you was losing control together and can't take it anymore...

He groaned your name louder than before with you and you was screaming his name loudly for the last time when you both cumming together make your orgasm looks better

That pleasure that touchs and fingers and this muscle body and cook made you felt butterflys in your stomach while his fingers was on your clit

He give you a few thrusts before take himself out of you and colleagues on top of you he was whimpering and trying to catch his breath back

He was tired but feel proud of himself...by giving himself to you

He closed his eyes as smiling to himself of the idea of making love with you again and again in the future was making him realize he finally got you

the idea of you still beside him until now is still made him happy and don't want to let go never and ever like there's no more time in the world just to be with you

You smiled as feeling his strong arms wrapped around you pulled you closer to his body and chest making you lied your head on his chest

'I love you so much" - you confessed softly and made him lifted his head off from the pillow to look at your face

'I love you too thank you for letting me in" - he whispered against your lips and put a soft kiss

'Thank you for this pleasure you too" - you replied and he let out a cutr soft chuckle

'Did you felt good?" - he asked as looking into your eyes trying to read your mind

'Yes i did" - you said and let out a soft giggle while thinking about every moment happened between you and him from the beginning

He nodded silently as smiling cheerily and closed his eyes his eyelashes and mouth made him look a baby to you...your baby bad boy

You closed your eyes and a few minutes the breath of the both of you becomes slowed and your bodies hugging each other as the covers of the bed wrapped around the both of you

Patrick can be bad boy but it's dosen't mean he can't fall in love with you

It's dosen't mean he can't be good person all the time

It's dosen't mean he can't..

Put A Love

#actors #celebrities #heath #heath ledger #heath ledger imagine #heathers #patrick verona x reader #patrick verona imagines #patrick verona #10 things i hate about you

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 1 year

Note

So i was hoping to request for trope tuesday. I was thinking grumpy reader x sunshine sirius and like kinda 10 things I hate about you type storyline but obviously in your own way of course. :)

happy trope tuesday! omg i kind of adored this request, so i got a bit carried away; i hope it's not too long... it ended up being very 10 things i hate about you inspired but i just love that movie and it just kind of flowed that way... hope you enjoy!!

for my 250 Followers Writing Event!

Tropey Tuesday 🎭 trope: grumpy x sunshine, enemies to lovers-ish

pairing: Sirius Black x reader

word count: 5.9k

“C’mon, Pads, pleaaase,” James pleads for the millionth time that morning. “No. Can’t you just drop it yet? You’re starting to seriously get on my nerves,” Sirius replies, flicking ashes off his cigarette and taking another drag.

“Fucking hell. What are friends for then, huh? If not to have your back in the darkest of times?” he accuses.

“I’d hardly call taking Evans out the ‘darkest of times,’ you drama queen. I mean, you are a pretty dull date, Prongs, but don’t be so hard on yourself.” “Hilarious,” he deadpans. “But the point is there isn’t going to be a date unless her sister goes too. Their dad is mental. Thinks Lily shouldn’t be going out alone her first year at uni or something. And he’ll know if she goes; I think he can track her and Y/N’s phones or some psychotic shit like that.” “Yes, yes, you’ve mentioned it.” “Have I? Because you don’t seem to be getting it, dickhead. C’mon, I’d do it for you.” “Oh, would you? You’d go out with the most grim girl you’ve ever laid eyes on, having to worry all night she might stab you if you don’t open the door for her — or if you do actually, knowing her,” Sirius muses. “I would,” he replies certainly. “In fact, I’d do it even if I knew she would stab me. I’d take a knife for you, Black.” “Alright, easy, Prongs. I love you too, but no need to get so dramatic.”

“If you really loved me, you’d do this for me.” “You aren’t gonna let up are you?” “Not a chance.” “Fucking hell.” Sirius flicks away the butt of his cig and walks away, thinking he still had until he found you to change his mind.

You’re sitting in a courtyard outside reading, and it crosses Sirius’s mind that in the odd moments in which you didn’t look so angry, you were actually kind of… beautiful?

You’re engrossed in your book when you hear, “Hello, gorgeous.” Sirius smiles at you, taking a seat beside you, leaning close.

“Can I help you?” you shoot. “Funny you should offer,” he jests. “Yes, yes you can in fact.” You look annoyed, not amused; he’s not used to this reaction but treads on, “It would be a marvelous help actually if you’d join me on Saturday. As I’m sure you know, there’s a party. Half the uni is going, but I reckon it will be rather dull unless you’re there.” He puts on his most seductive smirk. “No, thanks.” You close your book, get up, and leave. He’s sitting there, a bit awe-struck, when he sees you simply sit back down somewhere else, in plain view of his, and continue reading.

“She’s mental,” he whispers to himself.

“I tried, Prongs. Leave it, won’t you?” he sighs exasperatedly later that afternoon.

“No, I won’t. Since when are you one to give up so easily? So she didn’t say yes right away, big deal.” “She didn’t not say yes; she said ‘no.’ Very emphatically I might add.”

“So be more charming! That usually works for you, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that earlier. Thanks, James. Thanks so much,” he says sardonically. “I tried. It’s not as if I went up to her and didn’t try to be charming.”

“If you manage to get her to the party, I will buy you that new guitar you want so much.”

Sirius freezes. Interesting.

“You can’t afford it,” he shoots. “I can.” “You’ll back out for some idiotic loophole reason.” “I won’t.” Sirius groans and goes off again.

“I think you and I got off on the wrong foot.” You’re lying in the grass, headphones on, eyes closed. You look serene. You don’t respond. He shifts and steps closer, accidentally shielding your face from the sun. This gets your attention.

“What?” you ask, freeing one ear from your headphone, sitting up. He clears his throat and squats down in front of you.

“I said, I think you and I got off on the wrong foot.” “Oh. Didn’t hear you,” you say simply, pointing at the headphones. “Yes, I gathered.”

There is an awkward pause. It lingers.

“So…,” you say softly. “Is there something else, or…”

Bloody hell; was it just him, or did you hate everyone this much?

“What are you listening to?” he tries. “Why do you care?” you reply. You don’t sound angry, though. It comes out like a normal question; he’s just confused as to how you think it is one.

“I love music,” he says, taking a seat.

“Okay…” You look genuinely confused. “I love music too, but it doesn’t mean I give a shit what that bloke over there is listening to.” You gesture toward some guy with his headphones in too.

“Right. Well. I’m interested in music, but I’m also interested in you.” “Why?” “Are you serious?” “Do I sound like I’m joking?” “No, you sound like you’ve never had a conversation with anyone in your life.” He sounds a bit exasperated. He realizes this after the fact and internally cringes for his lack of patience, thinking it will set him back (if he’s made any progress at all) but is surprised at your lack of reaction.

“I just don’t see why you would be,” you say calmly.

He’s heard girls say similar to him many times, some out of actual insecurity, some just fishing for his compliments. Your tone is unlike any of theirs, and he’s not sure what to make of it. “You don’t see what? Why I would be interested in you?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve been vaguely aware of each other for a long time; had a class together and such. You never seemed interested then.” Feeling a bit more himself again, he replies smoothly, “Did you want me to be, love?”

You groan a little.

“Oh, I was dying for it,” you say, deadpan. “You were all I thought about,” you add dramatically. “I couldn’t focus on anything all day, and at night,” you lean toward him, like you’re about to tell him the deepest secret, “I’d touch myself to the thought of you.” You make a fake-scandalized expression, gasping sarcastically, then turn away as if nothing strange had just happened, turning the volume up on your music and adjusting your headphones again. You laid back down and closed your eyes, ignoring his presence beside you.

His mind had no idea which thread to chase. It was torn between dissecting how what he thought would offend you didn’t and what he thought would charm you offended you, marveling at how easily you had just joked about your wanking, or coming up with A) a way to convince James this was not happening or… (he seemed excited at the thought) B) a way to convince you to pay attention to him. While this all churned on the surface, in the back of his mind he registered the song you were listening to, which he heard in the fraction of time between your turning it up and putting your headphones back on. He loved that song.

“How’d it go with Fender?” James asks, entering their flat and plopping down onto the sofa next to Sirius.

“With what?” Sirius looks at him as though he’s gone mad. “Fender,” he repeats, as if that clarified anything. “Okay. See, the way I see it,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “is that you can think of her as your guitar. That way you’ll want her as badly as that bloody fender and you’ll get off your arse and figure it out.” “Don’t you see how that’s a little, I don’t know, objectifying?”

“Perfect, she’s rubbing off on you already; I know how much of a feminist she is. This is great; one step closer to love.” “Love?” Sirius’s disbelief is palpable. “When did this go from a meaningless date to help you out to love?” He grimaces a bit… then he grimaces a lot — but this at his realization that it wasn’t the idea of love, or even being in love with you, that made him grimace, but the idea that that didn’t even seem like a possibility.

“She’s mental, Prongs,” he says quickly, trying to distract himself. “I have no idea what to say to her, and everything I say falls flat, or worse.” “So now you know what it’s like to not look like a demigod and just have to flash a smile to get a girl’s attention. Have you ever thought about talking to her about something she likes? or something you like even. Just not vapid lines that would work regardless of who’s on the receiving end?”

Sirius squints at him and says, “I tried that, you twat. Asked her about music.” “And she didn’t like that?”

Sirius pauses, thinking back. “I don’t know,” he responds honestly.

“Well, did she seem annoyed?” “No. Not yet.” “When did she get annoyed?” Sirius winces. “When I asked her if she’d had a crush on me when we had a class together.”

James slaps the back of his head.

A few days go by, the weekend and fated party soon approaching. Sirius is out at a retro record shop in the late afternoon, and a t-shirt with the band name and logo of the group you were listening to the other day, Greta Van Fleet, catches his attention. It’s a cool shirt. And he likes them too. He’s not just thinking of getting it as a potential conversation starter for you. Truly…

He walks out of the shop, up two records and a t-shirt.

He runs a couple errands, kills a bit of time, and heads over to the campus pub to meet James and Remus. When he walks in, he’s struck by the sight of you, sitting alone in a corner booth, a pint and a book in front of you.

James comes to greet him, and he reciprocates, trying to act natural, but as soon as he gets the chance, hoping you haven’t spotted him (he’s pretty sure; he’s barely taken his eyes off of you, so he probably would’ve noticed), he dodges to the toilets, bag in hand.

When he comes back out, James asks, “Did you just change, mate?”

“Uh, yeah. Spilled something on my shirt earlier and had a spare.” James accepts this explanation as reasonable and doesn’t spend more time on it.

They get some drinks and are met by Remus, but as James heads to an empty booth, Sirius grabs his arm and drags him in the other direction. “Let’s sit over there actually.” “Why?” “Just looks more spacious.” And grants a better view of you, he doesn’t add. James looks skeptical but follows, and the three of them settle in.

Sirius is distracted, occasionally gracing the conversation with a nod of his head or a simple “oh, yeah?”

James is so caught up in a story, he doesn’t seem to notice, but Remus, ever observant, teases, “You know, if you’d rather go sit with Evans, Sirius, we won’t be offended.” James looks over, catching sight of you for the first time, a little disappointed at which Evans it was.

“What?” Sirius replies lamely.

“Oh, come on, Padfoot. You haven’t stopped staring at her since we got here.”

“Brilliant! Another chance,” exudes James.

“Another chance at what?” asks Remus. “Sirius is taking her to the party on Saturday.” “I’m not,” Sirius interjects harshly. After a beat he adds exasperatedly, looking toward Remus, “James wants me to be taking her to the party on Saturday. That way her sister will come along too and grace him with her presence.”

“You know,” James muses, “Fender doesn’t look as scary from this far away. I reckon you should go talk to her, Pads.” “Fender?” asks Remus.

“Don’t ask,” deadpans Sirius. “Well? Go on, then,” James urges. “Relax, mate. I’ll go later; just give me a minute.”

“Are you… nervous?” “Oh, and you wouldn’t be? After she’s rejected you twice in one week?” “Oh, I definitely would be, but you? It’s shocking. This might have a few upsides beyond my date with Lily. I like seeing you flustered.” “I’m not flustered,” Sirius shoots defensively. “I’m just trying to have a drink with my mates without all the nagging, alright? Is that too much to ask?”

“Yes,” James jokes but has mercy on him and continues his conversation with Remus after a threatening, “We’ll come back to this” and a grin.

Sirius is watching you when the song in the pub changes. You smile a little bit, and he hates how it makes his heart flutter. When the lyrics start, your mouth moves along with them, singing under your breath, and you move a bit with the music. You look beautiful lost in your own world like that. Just then, you look up, and your eyes meet his. They widen, and you freeze, looking a bit embarrassed. He wants to look away but braves on, holding your gaze and attempting to smile in greeting. You give a strained smile in response and look down shyly. It’s a strange look on you, timid. Sirius is not surprised to find it suits you, but he is surprised to find that he misses snarky and strong on you.

You look back again as if you couldn’t help it, and he catches your glance go down toward his shirt. Yes, he thinks. God, is this how most people normally feel? He feels pathetic, trying so hard to look interesting in front of you, wondering whether you could like him. Your attention is pulled away by the arrival of your sister, and when you stand up and hug her, he sees you smile brightly for the first time. It’s blinding.

“Heads up, Prongs,” he says, not looking away from you. James follows his gaze, and his hand instinctively goes to his hair. Remus scoffs amusedly.

You both look over, and James awkwardly pulls his hand from his hair and waves at Lily. She gives a giddy laugh and waves back. She turns to you and whispers something, and you shake your head vehemently in response. You start to argue in loud whispers that are still too far away to make out, but eventually Lily just rolls her eyes, looks back over, and gestures for the boys to join you. You look furious.

James doesn’t skip a beat, grabbing his drink and heading over with a confident, “Come on then.”

He pushes Sirius into the booth on your side and slides in next to Lily, Remus sliding in after him, ending up on his other side. Lily, James, and Remus start up an easy chat, but you and Sirius stay quiet. He feels tense, his palms probably sweaty, and the feeling is quite foreign to him. He fiddles with his glass in front of him, not looking sideways at you. “Nice shirt,” you say softly.

He looks down, as if he doesn’t know exactly what shirt he’s wearing, then looks up at you, responding “thanks” in his best attempt at a casual tone. “You like them?” he adds, knowing the answer.

You nod. “A lot actually.” “Me too.” “Clearly,” you laugh a little, nodding toward his shirt, and he loves the sound of it. “Why else would you wear this shirt?’ Why else indeed.

“Yeah,” he laughs, a bit strained still but starting to loosen up.

“You seem different,” you say. Again with the directness. He needs to learn how to handle it better for future conversations. He catches himself in this thought and can’t help but register his high hopes for the existence of said future conversations.

“Do I?” “Yeah. I don’t know. You seem…” You seem a bit lost for words then finish, “like the acoustic version to your regular electric.”

His eyebrows go up, surprised at such phrasing, followed closely by the corners of his lips, intoxicated by it. He doesn’t know what to say, and for the first time, that seems like the beginning of potentially beautiful possibility instead of just an obstacle to overcome as soon as possible. He’s never been so at peace with not saying anything. He just smiles.

You smile too, and into the quiet space he’s created, whisper, “I like it.” He can’t help his smug smirk at this; he’s still himself after all, but it’s more teasing than before, and this time when you roll your eyes, you lips don’t lose their smile.

You shift a bit, listening to whatever your sister is saying then tense up suddenly. Sirius has been so distracted just watching you, he has no idea what was said that stressed you out so much. He finally pays attention to try to piece it together. “Right, Y/N?” Lily asks. “Umm,” you don’t answer. “That’s brilliant, right, Sirius?” James says now. “Sorry, what’s brilliant?” “Y/N. Going to the party Saturday,” he responds. Sirius looks inquisitively at you.

“I never said I was going,” you say, your demeanour back to its regular grumpy one. “In fact, I wasn’t planning to,” you finish with some finality. Lily leans into your shoulder, making puppy dog eyes at you. “But you’ve reconsidered just for me, right? Pleeeaasee, Y/N, pleeaasee.”

You roll your eyes and bump her off of you but don’t say anything. You opt to take a swig of your drink instead despite the four pairs of eyes still intently watching you. Sirius has the odd sensation that that somehow actually doesn’t affect you, being seen, and it fascinates him. You don’t even look like you’re considering anymore when Lily bumps your shoulder with hers and fake-whispers, “pleeeaaaseee.”

You roll your eyes again, but give in with a simple, “fine.”

“Ah!! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Lily chants, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheek between her praises. You’re grimacing; James is beaming.

Saturday rolls around, and James and Sirius are finishing getting ready to go. Sirius is searching the messy living room for his leather jacket as he says, “No, mate, I’ll just meet you there.” “What are you talking about? Of course you should walk her there.” “She never said she was going with me. She just said she’d go. I don’t know why she’d expect — or want — me to show up at her flat.” “Just ask her.” “Don’t have her number.”

James takes his out of his pocket, types something, waits a moment. A ding sounds; he sends another message, and now Sirius’s phone sounds. He opens it to a text from James with your phone number. “Just asked Lily,” James says smugly. Sirius rolls his eyes and plops onto the sofa, debating, spinning his phone in his hand.

“What do I say?” “Figure it out, playboy,” James says as he goes back into his room, probably to check his hair again.

Sirius starts typing a message.

hey, Y/N, it’s sirius… how are you? What am I, fifty? he thinks to himself, shaking his head. He erases the how are you?, replacing it with lily gave james your number then james gave it to me. Fucking hell. He erases that too.

He writes, hey Y/N, it’s sirius… do you want me to come with james to get you and lily? and hits send before he can overthink it.

He tosses his phone to the side, but he can’t stop looking over at it, and his leg is bouncing up and down rapidly. He’s wringing his hands together, fiddling with his rings when his phone vibrates. He snatches it up immediately, opening it to find one word from you: sure. Good enough, he thinks, and there’s an energy to his step he didn’t have before as he grabs his jacket, saunters to James’s room, and drags him out of the flat.

As you follow Lily out the door, Sirius swallows hard. You look stunning. Lily is all made up, her face looking much more perfect than most days, her heels looking like they’ll hurt after one block. Your look is more low-key. Your eyeliner makes your eyes even more striking than usual, but you still look like yourself. You’re wearing a classic pair of converse that look cool with your long leather coat.

“Hey,” he greets when you’re standing in front of him.

“Hey,” you say back. You sway from the heels of your feet to your toes a bit then you both turn to walk behind James and Lily, who have their arms wrapped around each other and are already talking animatedly.

The first few minutes of the walk are completely silent between the two of you. Though it’s strangely not awkward, Sirius wants to talk to you, just doesn’t know where to start. He decides to just dive into the deep end. “What’s it like not caring what people think about you? Just saying what you want to say, or,” he chuckles at the current situation, “not saying anything?” You look at him seriously for a moment, considering him.

“I care what some people think about me. Just not everyone. And especially not random guys just because they’re attractive, and I’m supposed to put in some big effort to make myself attractive to them. I have better things to use, even better things to waste, my time and energy on.” You shrug.

“What’s your favourite waste of time?” he asks, grinning, his eyebrow raised in curiosity. You’re looking down in front of you, but he can see you smile.

“Um, funky question. Because I guess it’d be music. Getting high and just lying there listening to it, feeling it,” you laugh. “But that hardly seems like a waste.” You’re cheerful, and it’s addicting. Sirius laughs and says, “Hardly sounds like a waste at all. Sounds brilliant.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, still smiling. “How about yours?”

“Hm. I don’t know. Can’t just copy your answer, can I?” “Nope,” you pop.

“Damn. Well, in that case, I’ll go with just hanging out with James and Remus, not really doing much in particular.”

You nod. “Hardly sounds like a waste at all.” You smile at each other and chuckle.

When you get to the party, music is blasting, and it’s already full of people, many of whom seem to be drunk already. Sirius catches you looking around with a huge grimace on your face, and he finds it adorable. “Your favourite way to spend a Saturday night?” he asks cheekily, having to lean close due to the noise. You look at him and roll your eyes, but there’s a trace of a smile on your lips.

Several people greet Sirius, and he laughs and jokes with them. He’s clearly great at being the life of the party. You’ve already lost track of James and Lily. Hoping she’s having fun, you just hang back near Sirius, not engaging with his friends. No matter how glad he seems to see someone, though, he always comes back to you.

“You don’t have to linger, you know. I’ll be fine by myself.” “It’s everyone else I’m worried about. Given the murderous look on your face,” he laughs, though he can’t ignore the sting of the word “linger.”

You scoff but seem amused. “Besides,” he adds more quietly, “I want to be with you.”

“Okay,” you smile. “Okay,” he confirms happily.

As the night goes on, you actually chat more and more easily. Commentary on the DJ’s (usually subpar) performance helps. You’re laughing together, and his hopes are high that you’re having a good time. “I actually like this one,” you say, wincing in amused embarrassment when a dancey pop song comes on.

“Wanna dance?” he asks excitedly.

“Um, I’m not much of a dancer,” you admit. “That’s alright. Me neither. Fancy it anyway?”

You bite your lower lip, considering, before nodding.

He takes your hand and guides you between crowds of people to the area functioning as a dance floor. You stand close to each other, face to face, and it takes some time to get into the rhythm. Sirius finds you adorable as you cover your face with your hand, laughing at yourself. He grabs your hand, uncovering your face, and spins you. You laugh and put your other hand on his shoulder when you’re facing him again. He puts his hand on your hip, and you two move with the music, letting go. You dance a few more songs before you lean into his ear to say something. The contact shoots a thrill down his spine. “Wanna get some air? I’m getting really warm in here,” you semi-yell. He nods and grabs your hand again, walking with you out onto the quieter, emptier patio. You take a deep breath and sigh in contentment at the fresh air, leaning on your forearms on the porch ledge. You look lovely all flushed.

“What?” you ask, laughing lightly. “What?” he repeats, smiling but uncertain. “You’re looking at me funny.” He’s debating telling you the truth, telling you it’s because he thinks you’re beautiful, when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He just shakes his head casually as he goes to check it. He sees an unimportant message and just puts his phone down on the ledge in front of you both. You just stand there quietly with each other, shoulder to shoulder, and he fucking loves it. He feels at peace and excited simultaneously.

“Mind if I smoke?” he asks you, reaching into his pocket.

“Not as much as your lungs,” you retort. He gives you a “very funny” look. “I don’t mind,” you say more softly. He pulls out his cigs but keeps digging in his pockets. “Shit, forgot my lighter. Gonna go steal one from anyone I know real quick. Be right back,” he says, bumping your shoulder with his. You nod happily.

You’re standing there alone when his phone lights up in front of you.

A text from James reads, saw you sneak off with fender 👀 looks like you oughtta be grateful instead of annoyed in the end

Followed quickly by one from Remus, okay can one of you please explain the nickname now? it’s weird

James again, i promised sirius i’d buy him that fender he keeps going on about if he suffered a date with Y/N for me

Your stomach drops, and you feel like you’re going to be sick, your ears ringing with more than the after-effects of the loud music.

Sirius comes back, putting his hand on your lower back with a sweet “hey.”

You grab his phone, shove it in his chest, and seethingly say, “Fuck you, Black. Hope you didn’t have to suffer too much.” Your shoulder shoves him aggressively as you storm off.

He looks at his phone, and pure horror courses through him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he keeps repeating as he speeds after you through the crowds. He doesn’t catch up until you’re a good way down the street away from the party.

“Y/N! Wait! Please wait a second,” he calls, out of breath, as he reaches you, grabbing your forearm to try to turn you toward him. His heart shatters at the sight that meets him. You’re crying.

You yank your arm away from him and spit out, “Leave me alone.”

“Please. Please just let me explain. I wanted to be with you tonight. Please,” he pleads, walking fast to keep up with you.

“Oh, fuck off. You don’t have to keep it up anymore; your friend got what he wanted.” “It’s not like that, okay? You can ask him if you want! He’ll tell you I wanted you to come with me; he’ll tell you I like you.” “I’m sure he’ll tell me whatever you want him to, Black, but I’m really not interested. Please just leave me the fuck alone.” You start walking faster, and he stops dead in his tracks. He doesn’t know what he could possibly say, and he just stands there in the middle of the road, the worst feeling he’s ever felt weighing him down to the spot.

You’re back in your flat, still crying, when your phone buzzes.

Y/N

please

can we please talk?

it’s not what you think

i really want to talk to you

please

You put it on silent and toss it away.

You wake up with puffy eyes and four missed calls from Sirius from last night and another three from this morning. You delete the notifications and go take a shower, blasting your music.

You get dressed carelessly, grab your bag, and shove your headphones on. You meet Lily in the living room on the way out, and she looks concerned. She tries to stop you, but you just say “I’m fine” and hurry out the door.

You walk to a nearby park, a favourite spot of yours, and roam around for a while, hoping unsuccessfully to drown out your feelings in the music and movement. You sit down at a bench and take out your book. After reading the same sentence about ten times, you slam it shut and shove it back in your bag. You just sit there, and you’re struggling to keep the tears away as you let yourself replay your emotions from last night. You lie down on the grass, listening to your music again and shutting your eyes tight. After a while, it suddenly gets darker behind your eyelids, and you open your eyes to see what’s blocking the sun. Fuck. You’ve got to tell Lily to stop giving your phone number and probable locations to arseholes.

Sirius is standing above you, a desperate look on his face. He squats down and grabs your hands as you move to grab your things, clearly planning to leave.

“Wait, Y/N. Please wait. I’m begging you.”

“What do you want?” you ask harshly, taking your headphones off.

“Just to talk to you. Please. Please let me apologize.” “You’ve apologized. Now leave me alone.” You turn away from him again and get up.

“No, that’s not it. I want to make things right. You have to understand.” “Understand what exactly?” “I like you. I really like you. I think about you all the time; I want to spend more time with you.” “Another instrument in it for you?” you say scathingly. “No, no, of course not. That guitar thing was stupid. Really. It was really fucking stupid, and it was before we’d ever even talked! Well, you’d said a total of six words to me, but still, I had no idea how much I’d want to keep trying to get you to give me a chance without any other incentive.” You don’t say anything, but you also don’t go to leave, and Sirius sees this as serious progress. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I was a complete and total idiot to ever even entertain the idea, but it was just a silly thing before anything else happened.” “And what exactly is it that you think happened?” Your arms are crossed, and you still look like you want to murder him.

“I saw how fucking incredible you are. And I got it in my head that the thing I want most in the world is a chance to keep seeing how incredible you are. Let’s see. What else happened? I bought a t-shirt just to get your attention; I made a fool of myself in front of my friends from how nervous I was to talk to you; I lost sleep thinking about everything you’d ever said to me, and how you’re like no one I’ve ever met; I wrote and rewrote the simplest message last night like a lovestruck idiot because I was dying for you to say you wanted to see me. Then what else? Oh, right, and correct me if I’m wrong here because this is where you come in: then I had a fucking brilliant time with you last night. I dreamt of wasting time with you, of getting to dance with you again, of making you laugh even though you’re gorgeous even when you look cross — like right now by the way — I even dreamt of sitting in silence with you for fuck’s sake.” He was out of breath by the time he finished his speech.

“How’d you know I liked Greta Van Fleet?” “What?” “I assume that’s the shirt you bought to get my attention. How’d you know I liked them?” “That’s what you’re asking me right now?” “Yes.” “Fucking hell, Y/N.” A beat. “I could hear it from your headphones that second day you blew me off.” You just nod, still looking solemn.

“You’re not,” you say after a moment.

“Not what?”

“Wrong. About last night. You know, its being brilliant. Before… well, before —”

“Before I cocked it all up with silly games I never should’ve played in the first place,” he interrupts. “Before my stomach fucking flipped at reading those messages and my heart broke at seeing you…,” he swallows the knot in his throat, “at making you cry.” He ventures a step toward you, and you don’t move away, just tighten your grip on yourself and look down. “I’m so so sorry I did, Y/N. And I’ll make it up to you if you’ll let me.” He puts a hand on your cheek, caressing you softly. His other hand comes to your arms, uncrossing them and intertwining your fingers with his. He steps a bit closer and speaks more softly as he asks, “What do you say, love?”

You stay silent for a few seconds then say, “Okay.” He scoffs in relief and disbelief, chuckling.

“I just poured my heart out to you, and all you say is ‘okay’?”

“Yes,” you say, but after a second, a subtle smile lightens your features. He barks a laugh.

“I’ll take it,” he says, kissing your forehead. He lingers there a moment, still caressing your cheek, his lips hovering at your hairline, and when he leans back, he stays very close to your face, looking down at your lips. You push your chin up, bringing your faces even closer together. He smiles at this and closes the shrinking gap.

Your kiss tastes like possibility, and as Sirius shifts, deepening it, he’s not surprised to find your tongues fall into rhythm with each other as easily as your bodies did on the dance floor last night.

You clutch his jacket, pulling him closer as he envelops your mouth with his, the warmth of it coursing from where you’re connected down through your entire body.

He leans his forehead against yours when you break apart. He gives your nose a peck then, your fingers still intertwined, says, “So. What do you want to do now?” “I don’t know.” Not letting go of his hand, you grab your stuff and start walking with him. “Maybe we can waste time. Or sit in silence.” He squints at you.

“Are you taking the piss?”

“Yeah, a little bit, yeah,” you grin guilty.

He’s laughing, shaking his head, as he sarcastically says, “We’ll see when I make the effort of giving you another romantic speech.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” you say, squeezing his hand and kissing his cheek.

#marauders #10 things i hate about you #marauder x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black one shot #james potter #lily evans #remus lupin #james x lily #angst #fluff #enemies to lovers #grumpy x sunshine #fanfiction #reader insert #ria250

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dearsnow · 10 months

Text

TWO MONTHS

- work is taking a heavy toll on your boyfriend. (patrick verona x gn!reader, angst and slight fluff, established relationship)

word count: 657

a/n - another patrick fic :) i love him so much it’s not even funny. he’s my current hyperfixation- that being said, to all my patrick lovers out there, i’m planning a 3 part series for him <3 it’s called the summer before senior year and hopefully i get around to finishing it lol

Patrick closes the door to your apartment with a heavy sigh. The day rests heavily on his hunched shoulders, leaking through his pores as grease and dejection. You stir from your place on the couch. It’s 12:24 AM, and he is just returning from work. His hair is messy, tied up in a frizzy ponytail, and his eyes hold no sparkle. He doesn’t look like himself anymore. Your brows furrow, the weight of his condition nearly bringing tears to your eyes.

“Pat, it’s past midnight.” You murmur, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. There is a smudge of dirt on his face, which you wipe away with delicate fingers. He melts under your touch. “This isn’t healthy.” He takes both of your hands in his, kissing each one gently.

“I have to.” He grimaces. “Rent’s gone up, baby. You know that.” You lead him to your bed. The sheets are messy, as they always are. In his exhaustion, he does not care; not like he ever did, anyways. “The boys at the car shop offered me this, and I took it.” It hurts you so badly to see him like this. He seems flat, dull, lifeless. Nothing like the Patrick you met, and nothing like you ever wish him to be again. You need him to be happy. He deserves it, if nothing else. He deserves everything good- he deserves the sunshine and tender love and a quiet kiss of calm, but you can only offer him so much.

He lays back, and you pull the sheets over his chest. “I can take a second job.” You say, tracing circles on his chest. He’s too tired to take off his clothes, and you won’t force him to. He’ll be out of the house by 5:00, and he needs all the sleep he can get. He shakes his head at your suggestion, looking at you with soft eyes.

“You have college and the diner already. You’re stretched as thin as you can be.” He whispers, threading his hand through yours again.

“I still have free hours. Not much, but enough to get you some proper rest.” You manage to say. The bags under his eyes speak for themselves. He’ll end up dead if he keeps working like this. You can’t do this without him, any of it. If he dies, if he ends up in some hospital being fed by the few coins you have left dripping through his veins, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. You would gladly work every hour of every day just to see him healthy again. That isn’t realistic, though, and you know it. He’ll never let you take on that burden. You love him for it, but sometimes, his stubborn nature takes hold of him.

“No. This works, what we’re doing. We’ll be fine.” His voice is scratchy and low, but with just enough force to let you know he means it. When he looks at your face, eyes shining with unshed tears, his heart shatters. He kisses your hands again. “I promise, baby, we’ll be out of this soon enough. In two months we’ll have the money to take a break for a little bit. I’ll work lighter hours and we might even have enough saved to take you out on a proper date.” He smiles. You laugh quietly, though the sound is choked. Hot tears force themselves out of your eyes.

“Two months.” You repeat. He nods. “Two long ass fucking months.”

He starts to laugh, slowly at first, until you join. You wrap your arms around him as you giggle into his chest, and his whole body is shaking with the force of his snickering.

“Two goddamn bitches of months.” He offers, still grinning like a madman. He laughs, and you laugh in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, you think that things might end up working out.

Taglist (misc): @skeletonfromthecloset

#solar eclipse.#patrick verona #patrick verona x reader #patrick verona imagines #10 things i hate about you #10tihay #x reader #heath ledger #fanfic #fanfiction

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redahlia-writes · 2 years

Text

10 things i hate about you. | steve harrington

How do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways.

Words: 10K

Warnings: f!reader (described as shorter than steve), suggestive language, alcohol, drinking, swearing, bickering, angst, mentions of injuries, mentions of throwing up, some very light nsfw content (fade to black followed by mentions of nudity), hickeys, arguing, lyrics in text, corny 80s/90s romcoms tropes bc obviously

A/N: both steve and reader are out of high-school (in their 20s); scoops ahoy and the mall still exist because having the opportunity to tease steve in that outfit was There, let’s pretend all the traumatizing shit didn’t happen yeah <3. since a big chunk is taken directly from the movie (some scenes are readapted and rewritten, others are completely new), reader’s mother is not in the picture + i kept bianca as the sister’s name

also on AO3 - every little things she does is magic (by the police) - masterlist

i. I hate the way you talk to me,

“Hey there, girlie,” you looked up at the sound of an all too familiar voice, an eyebrow arched as you stilled with the book in your hand. “How ya doin’?”

Steve Harrington grinned at you, leaning forward in your direction. If not for the fact that nobody else was standing there, you’d almost believe he wasn’t talking to you. Slowly, you let your eyes trail down his uniform, eyebrow only rising further as you take in the blue and white stripes, the red cravat, the shorts.

“Sweating like a pig, actually,” you announced, a mock bright smile on your face as you placed the book on the table in front of you, quickly scanning the mall hoping to locate your sister - wherever she had wandered to.

“There’s a way to get a guy’s attention,” he commented, amusement in his voice. “My mission in life,” undaunted, you returned your gaze to him, waiting for his next words - maybe he needed the table. Maybe he’s just being his old self. But he said nothing, simply chuckling lightly. “Obviously, I’ve struck your fancy. So, you see, it worked - the world makes sense again.”

He laughed. Steve Harrington laughed, either unaware of the annoyance seeping in your voice or uncaring, stepping closer to the table with his hands resting on the surface.

“Pick you up Friday, then,” he announced, still grinning. “Oh, right. Friday,” you frowned, carefully gathering your stuff from in front of you, uncaringly throwing it into your bag. Steve leaned in again, his head slightly tilted making a lock of his hair fall against his forehead.

“The night I take you to places you’ve never been before - and back,” he’d lowered his voice, eyes trained on your face. You scoffed, closing your bag with a quick, harsh gesture. “Like what? The backroom of Scoops Ahoy?” you rebutted, rolling your eyes a little. “Do you even know my name, asshat?” you asked, getting up quickly.

“I know a lot more than that!” he retorted, straightening and moving back a little at the noise of the chair scraping against the pavement. You stared at him, squinting just slightly.

“Doubtful,” you recovered your bag, throwing it on your shoulder and moving back. “Very doubtful.”

––––––––––

Steve watched you walk away - long, angry steps that almost seemed to echo across the entire mall and followed him back to Scoops Ahoy.

“So? How’d it go?” Dustin was on him right away, restlessly bouncing as he gripped his arm. “Did you get her number? A date? Can I see Bianca? Please tell me I can see Bianca.” “Are you kidding?” Steve scoffed, walking behind the counter - Dustin followed him, uncaring. “She almost bit my head off, Dustin. I can’t help you.”

“So what I’m hearing is,” Robin called from behind him, pulling up her board and taking the sharpie, tracing a quick mark underneath the YOU SUCK sign as a grin spread over her face, “that you suck.”

ii. and the way you cut your hair;

“Bianca, try to not disappear like last time,” you called after your sister, and she stopped in her tracks, slowly turning towards you, her hands joined behind her back.

“Why? You never told me what happened last time,” she was grinning - nothing good ever came from your sister grinning like the damn Cheshire cat.

“Nothing, just -” you scoffed, waving your hand in her direction. “If I have to deal with Steve the hair Harrington one more time, I might punch someone.” “Again?” she asked, and you frowned at her - it had been years since that punch had been thrown and she still made jokes about it. “Wait, aren’t you going to Scoops Ahoy?”

“Yes, I am,” you sighed, rolling your eyes a little. “But he works there,” she pointed out, leaning a little towards you. “Steve the hair Harrington.”

“Yes, Bianca, I know,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, then threw your hand in the air. “I’ll just wait for Robin to be at the counter, yeah? Now go, we gotta be home before dad in a couple of hours.”

“But then you’ll tell me what’s this story about the hair, right?” she kept grinning, hands now joined in front of her. “I didn’t know you knew him.” “I don’t - I know his reputation, and that’s enough,” you scoffed, and waved your hand again. “Go on, do whatever it is you do.”

iii. I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.

“Is she drunk?” your sister was whispering to Steve, her chin resting on Dustin’s shoulder. “I’ve never seen her drunk. I’ve never seen her dancing.”

“What? I don’t believe that,” Steve exclaimed, looking away from you for just a moment, his eyes falling onto the young couple. “Also, there shouldn’t be alcohol here, you guys are too young for -” a cheering interrupted him, followed by a clattering noise. He turned around, watching you hit your head against the chandelier hanging above you. “Shit.”

It took him few long strides to reach the table you were dancing on, extending his arms just as you staggered backwards and slipped down - right on him. Another wave of cheers and claps erupted from the small crowd gathered around the table as he deposited you onto the floor carefully, his arms fastened around you to hold you up.

“Okay?” he asked, searching your face. “I’m fine,” you retorted, pushing him by the shoulders - then staggered backwards, and he reached again to hold you up. “I’m just gonna go lie down.”

“No, you’re not lying down - what if you have a concussion?”

Everything felt hazy enough already, but Steve Harrington fussing over you? That must’ve been a hallucination all of its own.

“Then I have a concussion - it’s fine, Bianca can drive,” you paused, your steps faltering - Steve was bringing you away from the kitchen and towards outside, where less people were gathered. “Where’s Bianca?” “She’s with Dustin - away from the alcohol,” he declared, walking you towards the swings in the backyard. No one was there, just the lingering smell of smoke.

“Who’s Dustin?” you mumbled, attempting to push away from him again. “Will you just leave, Harrington? I don’t understand what you’re doing here, we finished high school, remember?” “And yet here you are,” his hands rested on your elbows as you tilted your head back with a quiet groan. “Hey, eyes on me.”

“I’m here for my sister - you hang out with kids too much,” you pointed a finger in his direction, eyes fluttering open and then closed again with another groan. “Why the fuck did I drink that crap - and why are you so patronizing?”

“Leave it to you to use big words when you’re shitfaced,” he muttered, hand reaching up to give a light tap to your cheek. You looked at him with a deep frown, mouth turned in an annoyed pout. “You really don’t like me, do you?”

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, swinging back a little, held up only by his hands on your arms. He gave you a little smile, gently moving you towards the swingset. “I told you I liked you,” you rolled your eyes at his words. “Even though you seem to hate me, which I can understand,” he commented with a tilt of his head, making your frown deepen.

“Why would you do that to yourself?” you scoffed. “Because then I’d have to start talking with girls who actually like me,” you snorted again, glancing away and stepping back.

“Like you could find one,” you muttered, and his face broke into a wider grin. “See - that. Who needs affection when I’ve got blind hatred?”

“Just let me sit down, Harrington,” you complained with a quiet whine, and he walked you over to the swing and plopped you down on it. “How’s that?” he moved behind you as you grabbed the chains, slowly leaning towards your side, eyes fluttering shut again, offering him a mild nod and smile before falling backwards - he grabbed you quickly, helping you up once more. “Jesus - okay, should we get you to the hospital?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, swatting his hand away. “Stop being a mother hen - it doesn’t suit you, Harrington.”

“Wanna tell me why you hate me to the point you’re risking your health?” he asked, carefully letting go of you to make his way to the other swing, eyes never leaving you should you topple over again.

“I don’t hate you, I don’t like your people,” you retorted, voice low, forcing him to lean in your direction as he arched his eyebrows. “Stop staring.” “My people?” he looked ahead with a light shake of his head.

“Pretty, popular, asshole people - Tommy H, Carol, Nicole,” you trailed off, weakly waving your hand. Unable to help himself, Steve chuckled.

“You’re right, they’re assholes,” he commented, giving a quick nod. “You do know I stopped being friends with them years ago, right?” he asked then, turning to look at you - finding you half-asleep. “Shit - hey, eyes on me.”

“Stop being so loud,” you cried, face scrunched up as he placed his hand on the side of your face. “I told you, I’m fine. You can go.” “Yeah, I’m not letting you drive home with Bianca,” he commented, his arm slithering underneath your arms to prop you up against him. “Can you stand?”

“Mother hen,” you muttered in response, head falling to his shoulder.

“Alright,” he sighed, turning towards the house. Dustin and Bianca were at the door, looking at the two of them with wide, worried eyes. “Alright Henderson, time to go home - you too, missy,” he called, waving the two of them over, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head when you groaned in complaint. “Sorry.”

––––––––––

One car stop to throw up later, one of Steve’s hand resting over your forehead, the other rubbing your back gently, you sat with your head thrown back in the passenger seat of your car, slightly leaning towards Steve in the driver seat as you reached over the radio, switching channels back and forth until you found a song that satisfied you.

“Nuh-uh,” Steve said, switching it back to the previous station. “I’m driving, so I get to pick the tunes,” frowning, you sat up, switching back to the song. “It’s my car,” you retorted, and he changed it back.

“But I’m in control of it,” all but shooting daggers at him, you reached for the radio, only for your hand to be slapped away - he wasn’t even looking at you, just at the road up ahead.

“Will you two just stop and turn off the radio?” Dustin exclaimed exasperated from the backseat with a quiet groan. “Bickering like an old married couple, jeez.”

“Hey, kid,” you turned in the seat a little to look at him. “This is my car, and that is my sister you hung out the whole night with - remember your place,” you only half-heartedly threatened, pointing your finger at him. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, averting his gaze from you and towards Steve. “Hey, eyes on the road!” he called, making you flinch as he raised his voice.

You turned back towards Steve, catching the last moment he was turning his head back to look at the road instead of - you frowned a little. Had he been looking at you?

“And I’m picking the song,” you announced, switching back to the station you’d initially picked, a pointed look in Steve’s direction to the chorus of Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic by The Police.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said under his breath, the smallest smirk on his face as you started humming along with the song.

iv. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind.

“I swear my sister would move into the mall if it were possible,” Steve’s head shot up at the sound of your voice, and he quickly ran out of the back to reach the counter. “Hi,” you said carefully, looking at him with both your eyebrows arched in perplexity. “Hi,” he returned, then looked at Robin. “Isn’t it my turn?”

Robin looked at him, then at you, then at the scoop in her hand and shrugged a little, handing it to Steve. “See you,” she waved in your direction before disappearing out back, pulling the headphones on her ears and pressing play on her Walkman, a spring in her step before the door closed behind her.

“Hi,” Steve repeated, leaning on the counter. “Hi - nice outfit,” you smiled, a little awkwardly. “Listen -” “Look -” he started at the same time, and for a moment the two of you just looked at each other, lips parted, eyes wide, unsure of what to do next. “Alright, you go first.”

“I’m sorry - about the other night,” you said quickly, and Steve’s eyes fell to your hands as you twisted them. “I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk - I had Bianca to keep an eye on for Christ’s sake,” you shook your head as if to drive the thought away. “And I definitely shouldn’t have been dancing on that table.” “It was a nice dance,” he commented, and you returned your gaze at him a little confused. “Sorry, I meant -”

“Nevermind,” you scoffed, waving your hand dismissively. “I’m just saying - I’m sorry. And thank you, for driving us.” “Ah, that’s alright,” he shrugged, a small, corny smile on his face. “I was with Henderson anyway, so - no bother at all.”

“Yes, but you were in your car when we got there,” you pointed out, and he blinked rapidly, lips parting as if ready to reply, though he wasn’t sure how. “You didn’t have to leave your car there for us, Steve.”

“Oh, it’s Steve now?” he asked in mock surprise, perking up a little. “I only ever heard you call me Harrington, almost thought you didn’t know my name.” “How hilarious,” you scoffed at his remark, rolling your eyes a little, and he grinned. “What’s the deal with the kid, anyway?” for a moment, a moment only, he tensed, eyes widening a little. “He talks about you as if you were his brother - how did that happen?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, tilting his head a little. “He’s a fun kid - a little loud, but fun. I don’t mind being the babysitter, here and there.” “Alright then,” you chuckled with a nod, hands resting on the counter. “I’m glad Bianca’s friends with him - the other kids she used to hang out with were real assholes,” you muttered the last sentence, tapping your fingers quickly.

“You seem to think a lot of people are assholes,” he pointed out, and you looked up at him. “So that I said out loud, huh?” you murmured with a light, unamused chuckle. He nodded, lips pressed together to stifle a laughter of his own. “I don’t think you’re an asshole - not anymore, at least.”

“I mean, I was an asshole,” he commented with a tilt of his head. “So you’re fine.” “Well, you’re not an asshole now,” you stepped back a little, hands back at your sides.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, a hand resting on his chest as if offended. “Sorry, I mean -” you sighed, muttering under your breath before stepping away from the counter. “Alright. See you, Harrington.”

“I like Steve better,” he said, watching you move back towards the exit. “Hey, didn’t you want your ice-cream?” he called a little louder, though you were gone already.

“Hey, Harrington,” Robin called, knocking against the window. He turned, looking down at her board already out. She was smiling, sharpie in hand, and she drew a quick line underneath YOU RULE. “Nice one.”

––––––––––

The cup of ice-cream appeared behind your book in the time it took you to turn the page. You looked at it, the sprinkles falling on the sides, a red spoon and a blue spoon sticking out the side, then up at the person who’d placed it on the table.

“This is vaguely familiar,” you commented, looking at Steve out of his uniform. “Sort of - where’s your sailor outfit?” “My shift ended, so I get to wear normal clothes,” he retorted with a shrug. “And you forgot your ice-cream last time.”

“Are you running for employee of the month?” you arched an eyebrow, head tilted. “I didn’t order last time - I don’t know why I forgot.” “I know, but maybe you had a lingering desire for ice-cream,” he grinned, gently pushing the cup towards you. “That’s gonna melt, by the way.”

“Alright,” you hesitated for a moment, then pushed the chair at your side with the tip of your shoe. “Wanna help me finish it?” you offered. Steve’s eyes moved up to you, a little hesitant.

“I - this wasn’t my intention. I really just wanted to get you the ice-cream,” he looked at the chair, then back at you, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I know I came on too strong that first day, I was being a douchebag.”

“You think?” you scoffed, moving the cup in his direction a little. “Take you to places you’ve never been before - and back,” you mocked, his expression growing guilitier and guiltier as the words left you. “Does that stuff really work? I mean, really?” “Clearly, it does not,” he murmured, clearing his throat, head hanging a little low.

You couldn’t help yourself, a low laugh leaving you at his mortified expression.

“Sit down, Harrington, I’m not going to bite you,” you said at last, taking the red spoon for yourself. You watched him sit down as you brought the first spoonful of ice-cream to your mouth, pausing a little at the flavor. “Is this salted caramel?”

“Thought you might like it,” he said with a shrug, shuffling a little on his seat. “Did I get it right?” he asked then, reaching for the other spoon.

You remained quiet for so long he started wondering whether he’d asked the question or gone suddenly deaf - when he looked up, your eyes were on him already, squinting slightly as if you could read the depth of his soul like that.

“Wizard,” you said at last, almost under your breath, and went in for another bite.

v. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme.

“You know Dustin’s going to hate you for not bringing him, right?” you called from behind your hideout, balloon filled with paint secured in your hand. You heard Steve’s laugh, but couldn’t locate him, so you remained sitting, hidden. “When you mentioned paintball, I expected him and his friends to be here already,” you added, turning your head at the sound of steps on your right.

“Nope,” Steve called, definitively on your right. You moved from your seated position, shifting to your knees and poking your head out the hideout just a little. A quick flash of a white, paint-stained jumpsuit moving from one block to the other. “Just the two of us - plus, did you really want to spend the whole day with him moping and complaining about Bianca’s absence?”

“It’s not his fault she got herself grounded,” you retorted, moving closer to the edge. Steve’s hair appeared from behind one of the logs. “They’re young, let them believe this is the biggest tragedy they’ll have to endure in a relationship.”

“Spoken like the true senior citizen you are,” he laughed, loud and unabashed. Instead of replying, you moved out of your hideout - just as Steve did the same. You were close, both holding a balloon in one hand, and he tilted his head looking at you raising your arm, slowly. “Now what?”

“You know I’ve got a perfect aim,” you said, a grin on your face as you took half a step back. “Yes, but I run faster,” he mimicked your grin, if wider, and took one step forward. “What’s it gonna be?”

Before he could even finish posing the question, you’d thrown your balloon at him and darted away, the low huff that escaped him the only signal you needed to know you’d hit the mark. You ran away - it was true, Steve did run faster. And you made the mistake of looking over your shoulder at the sound of his steps, slowing down long enough for him to catch up with you.

His arms wrapped around you from behind, fresh paint smearing from his jumpsuit to yours as he pulled you to his chest and off the ground with a little yelp coming from you, hands quickly reaching for him as you both tumbled down - in a soft pile of hay.

“Gotcha,” he exclaimed, out of breath, laughter bubbling in his chest, rolling half-way on top of you. You were unable to respond, laughing and laughing and trying to regain your breath but failing, head resting back against the hay and hands on Steve’s arms.

You hadn’t expected to change your mind about Steve Harrington so quickly - but the days had gone by, and when Bianca begged to see Dustin, Steve was always there too, growing more familiar. A friend, even. And he wasn’t half as bad as you’d made him out to be.

One of his hands left you to pull away his goggles and, after a moment of hesitation, he took yours off too - paint was smeared on his cheeks and a few had reached his hair, red and blue and yellow littering him like a canvas. Surely, you were as colorful as him.

Steve looked at you, still slightly breathless, that big smile of his turning his lips, and his hand resting dangerously close to your cheek. With his weight on you, for a moment you forgot the rest of the field, of the game.

“I still won,” you retorted, grinning. Steve scoffed, shaking his head a little before cupping your cheek - his thumb swept across your cheekbone, smudging a stain of blue paint. “Shut up,” he murmured, and moved closer.

He gave you all the time in the world to move away, to stop him, moving slowly as his eyes moved across your face, from one colorful spot to the other - when you just smiled, head tilting slightly to the side, he leaned in all the way.

His lips found yours, a delicate, tentative touch as he cradled your face. Slowly, you reached your hands up to his head, and the moment you buried your fingers in his hair, Steve parted his lips a little, a soft sigh escaping his throat.

Eyes fluttering shut, you opened your mouth to him, the kiss growing deeper, more intense, his hand moving from your face down your neck, collarbones, carefully sliding across your chest before reaching your waist and squeezing it lightly, pulling you closer, his leg shifting between your thighs.

“Steve,” you moved back just barely, eyes remaining closed as you ran your hand through his hair. He pulled back, his gaze burning across the skin of your face - when you looked up at him, his lips were plush and red, eyes shimmering just lightly.

“You okay?” there was a barely held back note of concern in his voice, and you moved your hands to cup his cheeks, holding him in place before pulling up to leave a quick peck against his puckered lips. It caught him by surprise, eyes widening and skin growing warmer.

“I still won, Harrington,” you repeated, grinning, and pushed him off of you.

vi. I hate the way you’re always right,

Turned on the passenger seat, your knees up, you leaned with your elbow against the backrest, head slightly tilted resting on your fist. Steve was bouncing his head lightly to the music playing on the radio, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel every now and then.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, taking his eyes off of the road for just a moment to look at you - for perhaps the first time, you did not avert your gaze, only smiling a little. “You have paint in your hair,” you said, pointing at the few locks caked in red, dry paint, one falling in a half-curl on his forehead.

“So do you,” he scoffed, then looked back at you. “You’re staring because you like me,” he was grinning ear to ear, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Eyes on the road,” you warned, reaching over to push your fingers into his cheek and turn his head back again. “If we crash, you’re paying for repairs,” he laughed, looking back to the road.

“You like me,” he repeated in a sing-song voice, leaning slightly to the side. “Shut up, Harrington,” you huffed, reaching for the volume control to turn up the song.

“You like me!” he called loudly, and when you didn’t reply he looked at you, eyebrows arched. “Alright then, maybe you don’t like me, but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked, huh?” a teasing smirk appeared on his face.

With a light gasp you placed your hand on your chest, eyes widening in mock surprise.

“Am I that transparent?” you asked, leaning towards him, both hands falling onto his bicep. “I want you, I need you, oh baby, oh baby,” you cried, faux, almost theatrical desperation in your voice.

Steve laughed, loud, engulfing the music, and an involuntary grin made its way on your face as well - your cheeks were aching, and suddenly you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had such fun with someone else. And of all people, it had been Steve Harrington.

vii. I hate it when you lie,

“Wait!” Robin watched you dart past the counter and into the backroom, her hands occupied with a cone and her scoop. “Sorry, Robs!” you called over your shoulder, pushing the door open and running inside, followed by the soft curses of the other girl.

“- tell her, Dustin,” Steve was saying, his voice raised a little, hair standing on edge as if he’d run his hands through it over and over again. He looked up at the sound of the door creaking slightly, eyes widening as you walked in, steps faltering a little at his expression. “Hey, you!” he said cheerfully, a smile already forming on his face as he pushed past Dustin.

“Hi,” you moved your gaze from him to Dustin and back on him, frowning slightly. “Everything alright?”

Steve moved at your side, his arms wrapping around you and bringing you close, head dipping down to kiss you quickly - in response, Dustin groaned, rolling his eyes and looking away with a grimace.

“Get a room, Jesus,” he complained, making you chuckle softly. “I get why Bianca complains so much about the two of you.” “And she hasn’t even heard -” Steve started, turning his head towards Dustin, voice becoming muffled as you slapped your hand over his mouth. He looked at you sideways, eyebrows arching. “What?” he mumbled, lips moving against your palm.

“Don’t be gross in front of the kid,” you warned, looking back on Dustin just as he parted his lips to protest. “Bi’s waiting for you somewhere at the entrance - but she has to be home early. You both have homeworks, don’t you?”

“No -” he started arguing, and lowered his gaze when you arched one eyebrow in his direction. “Right. Of course. Home early. Bye!” “Bye, Henderson!” Steve called as the kid scurried away, your hand still on his mouth.

You turned to look at him then, smile pulling at your lips as you dropped your hand to his chest, head slightly tilted - you leaned in, kissing him a little longer this time, a little deeper, eyes fluttering shut as his arms slithered around you.

“Tell what to who?” you asked, ignoring his complaint when you pulled back, hands resting on his shoulders. “What?” he mumbled, lips turned in a pout.

“When I walked in you were saying tell her,” you shrugged, absent-mindedly fixing the collar of his uniform. “Is it about Bianca?” “No, no, it’s -” Steve looked at you, your eyes trailing from his uniform up to his face, head still slightly tilted as you met his gaze and a delicate smile took hold of your lips, slightly reddened by the insistence of his kiss.

I don’t want to fuck this up - I really like her, Dustin. I gotta tell her.

Tell her what? That I blackmailed you into going out with her? She’s gonna hate you!

You didn’t blackmail me, but - yeah, maybe. But she deserves the truth at the very least, doesn’t she? I have to tell her, Dustin.

“Steve?” your voice, soft and amused as you pinched his cheek, bringing him back to you. She’s gonna hate you. “Everything alright?” he took a shuddering breath in before plastering on a smile, kissing the bridge of your nose quickly before nodding. “Yeah, of course,” he cleared his throat. “It’s nothing, just Dustin being Dustin.”

“Alright then,” there was a light frown knitting your brow, voice hesitant as you moved back. “Still on for tonight? I got Possession at Family Video,” you said then, a quick grin on your mouth.

“I still think you picking the movie was a terrible idea,” he tightened his hold on your waist, pulling you against him all over again. “Last time I couldn’t sleep,” he complained, and whatever lingering doubt in your eyes melted away in a laugh, your hands cupping Steve’s cheeks. “Poor big baby, scared of Friday the 13th,” you cooed, squeezing his cheeks gently. “Jason Voorhees gave you nightmares, huh?”

“Hey, Harrington,” Robin called from the window, leaning in, “when you’re done getting derided by your girlfriend, how about you get some work done over here?” “I’ll be right out,” he scoffed, his cheeks still lightly squashed between your hands.

“And, seriously, Jason Voorhees gave you nightmares?” she asked in a mocking tone, unable to hide her laughter. “I think I’m gonna add it to the board.”

“Do not add it to the board!” he protested, side-eyeing you as you snorted, quickly attempting to mask it with a light cough. “I’m feeling attacked on multiple fronts at the moment, you do know that, right?”

“Sorry, baby,” you whispered, leaving one last quick peck against his frowning mouth before escaping his hold. “See you tonight!”

viii. I hate it when you make me laugh;

“This is the third time I fall for it,” Steve complained, switching off the TV as you kept laughing from the couch, watching as he turned on the light and glanced outside the window. “Next time, I’m picking the movie.”

“I just can’t believe you’ve never seen Halloween before,” you couldn’t help the amusement seeping through, lifting the blanket draped over you as he approached the couch. “Seriously, how could you not know about Michael Myers?” you patted the couch at your side, still grinning. “Laugh all you want,” he glumbered, settling at your side and letting you drape the blanket over him as well, “I’m choosing next time.”

“Fine,” you chuckled, nestling into his side, one arm wrapped around his torso as you looked up at him, chin resting on his shoulder. “You’re not gonna sleep tonight, Harrington?” “Probably not,” he shook his head, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “Gonna have to call you, keep you up for the whole night,” he announced, lifting his chin a little.

You hummed, a mocking pout on your lips in response to his words before sitting up, moving both hands on his shoulder to shift on his lap. Lips parting, Steve moved his hands on your sides, resting his head against the backrest of his couch to look up at you.

“You know, I told my father I would spend the night out,” you said slowly, moving one hand to cup his cheek, gently rubbing your thumb against his skin - small, soothing circles. “And he’s fine with that?” he asked right away, scoffing. Then, his eyes widened a little, darting away and back towards you. “Oh - oh.”

“I picked the movie after all,” you continued, shrugging lightly, his hands slowly inching up your waist, almost ticklish. “I thought you’d have trouble falling asleep afterwards, your parents aren’t home and I figured, why not?” you leaned in a little, the tip of your nose brushing his. “Is it okay?”

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, hands coming to rest against your spine as you gently arched towards him. “I mean, of course it’s okay, it’s more than okay, just - we don’t have to do anything, you know that, right? We have a guest bedroom, actually, if you’d prefer -”

“Steve,” you shushed him, a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I never thought you’d be a worrier, Harrington,” he groaned in complaint, looking up at you wide-eyed as he squeezed your sides gently. “I’m sure,” you reassured him in a half whisper, caressing his cheek as you nodded.

“Okay, good,” he wrapped his arms around you then, locking you against him.

You were suddenly grateful you were sitting down, your legs feeling like jelly at the look in Steve’s eyes before he leaned forward, tilting his head enough to fit in the curve of your neck, his lips parting to leave a delicate kiss against your pulse point - it sent a shiver down your spine, hand moving from his face through his hair as a sigh escaped your mouth. He trailed his lips across your skin slowly, alternating kisses to nibbles.

“Are you trying to give me a hickey?” you called in a whisper, unable to repress the giddy grin crossing your lips. He nodded with a quiet hum, then pulled gently onto the skin with his teeth, making you laugh, quickly stifled by a light gasp as he sucked the skin - slow and long, the tip of his tongue drawing small circles over your pulse point.

“Should I have stopped?” he asked, pulling his head back - when he did so, there was a low pop when he released your skin. “Suits you.” “You’re being gross, Harrington,” you warned, hands back on his shoulders to push him slightly down, looking back at his slightly flushed face, plush lips. He grinned.

“There are no kids around, though,” he commented, lifting his head to chase a kiss. You moved away, reclining back and holding yourself with your hands on his shoulder, leaving him hanging, lips parted and brows knitted. “What, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shuffled a little lower, tilting your head to the side with a quick smirk. “Just payback,” you announced before leaning towards his neck. “Pay- oh. Alright.”

––––––––––

Steve’s bed felt like it had swallowed you whole, with its soft pillows and blankets and his arms wrapped about your waist, his head resting on your chest - skin on warm skin, legs entangled underneath the covers.

He was tracing random patterns on your stomach with the tip of his fingers - circles and lines and shapes that made no sense, lullying you both in a state of haziness.

“No regrets?” he asked after a while, his voice low and hoarse, shifting his head so his cheek rested on your shoulder and he could look at you, your half-closed eyes and flushed cheeks.

“No regrets,” you said with a tired smile, brushing a kiss to his forehead. He sighed, contempt, nodding - in doing so, his hair tickled underneath your chin and, though you tried, you couldn’t help the laughter erupting from your lips.

“What is it?” he frowned, returning his gaze up to you. He even stilled the movement of his fingers, hand splayed over your abdomen, grazing your ribs and making you laugh only louder, quickly reaching up to cover your mouth. “What?” he asked again, perplexed.

“Nothing, nothing,” you reassured, almost out of breath. He frowned again, and you moved your hand through his hair. “It tickles,” then placed it on the back of his over your stomach, trailing your chuckles. “Here, too.”

“Oh, you’re ticklish?” suddenly, an amused grin made its way across Steve’s face. “I didn’t know that,” he spoke slowly, moving his hand bit by bit across your skin, reaching for your uncovered side. “Steve, don’t you dare,” you warned, feeling the burst of laughter bubbling in your throat already, shifting underneath his touch. “I will kick you off this bed, I swear to - Steve!”

Unabashed, unbridled squeals left you, attempting desperately to grab his wrists as he started moving his fingers over your sides. The sleepiness had left his gaze, replaced by amusement as he moved over you, the covers falling from his shoulders as he locked his legs at your sides.

“Where else?” he pondered, looking down towards you. “Here?” he reached for your midriff, making you shift from one side and then the other, head thrown back as you pleaded him to stop. “Or here?” he shuffled down, hands falling to your inner thighs - with a gasp, you tried to move from underneath him, but he wrapped his hands under your knees, pulling you back towards him. “Maybe here?”

“Steve, please,” chest heaving, you pulled your torso up, grabbing his arms with both hands. “You win.” “I’m sorry, come again?” he turned his head, his ear directed towards you as he kept moving his fingers lightly under your knees. “I what?”

“You win,” you repeated, squeezing his arms. “Please, please, stop it.” “I like the sound of that,” he hummed, releasing your legs with a grin. With a loud sigh, you flopped back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and hand resting against your chest as you regained your breath.

“You are an awful person, Steve Harrington,” you muttered, looking up at him at last. His eyes had been wandering across your body, and moved up to your face only when you spoke.

“You like me nevertheless,” he announced with a self-satisfied grin, before lying at your side and opening his arms for you. You hummed, rolling on your side and into his. “You’re lucky you’re pretty,” you retorted after a moment left to ponder, and he laughed in response, leaving a quick kiss on your forehead as you closed your eyes again, relaxing against him.

“Do you want me to get the lights?” he asked, softer, slowly caressing your shoulder. “Only if you don’t have to move,” your lips brushed his chest when you spoke, your arm draped across his stomach. “Comfortable,” you mumbled at last and, with one last chuckle he turned off the light, wrapping his arms around you to settle for the night.

ix. even worse when you make me cry.

“God, you’re the worst!” Bianca’s face was red as she groaned, out of breath. “Why can’t you just let me be this once?” “Because you’re 15, Bianca,” you called back, following her around the kitchen as she tried to get away from you. “You’re supposed to be on my side!” she continued, moving from the kitchen to the hallway.

“Do you want me to go?” Steve asked quietly as you walked past him after your sister, his hand coming up to brush your arm - a quiet reassurance, his eyebrows knit in worry as he watched the teenager stomp up the stairs. “It’s fine,” you said quickly, giving him a half-hazarded smile before following her. “Bianca, stop it - I am on your side, I’m just trying to stop you from doing something stupid.”

“It’s just a party,” she cried at the top of the stairs, arms flailing in the air. “It’s not the party I’m concerned about,” you sighed, trying to reach for her. “You heard dad - do you want to be grounded again?”

“Because you’ve always done what he told you to, right?” she groaned again, turning her back on you to head towards her room. “You’re a hypocrite!” “No, you’re right, which is why I can tell you this is a bad idea,” you shot one quick glance in Steve’s direction before following her along the corridor. “Will you just listen to me? I know -”

“You’re not mom!” she yelled then, whipping around and making you come to an abrupt halt. “And you don’t know anything - you barely went out when you were my age, you had no friend, and your boyfriend asked you out only because Dustin begged him to so that I could go out! If not for that, you would still be sad, bitter and lonely!”

By the time she slammed the door in your face, her words had ricocheted like a slap, leaving you standing in front of her locked door, her music turned up all the way.

“Bianca?” you called, knocking softly - your arm felt weak, your head fuzzy. “Bianca, will you please -” you sighed, stepping back. If you and your sister had anything in common, was the ability to hold a grudge - she wouldn’t speak to you or anyone else until morning came.

The top step creaked under the weight of Steve reaching the top floor - his cheeks were flushed, eyes wide darting from you to the closed door, lips locked in a thin line. Guilt, loud and clear, painted in bright colors on his face.

The anger barely held in check from the fight with Bianca cracked the dam, burning hot and bright in your chest as you scoffed, shaking your head and walking past Steve. He called your name, urgently, following you back towards the living room.

“I can explain,” he said, quickly. “Please, let me explain, I -” already he sounded out of breath. “You’re not even gonna try to deny it, are you?” dull-voiced, you reached to grab the pillow Bianca had thrown in your direction at the beginning of your fight - your grip was a little too tight than needed, digging with your nails into its softness.

From the other side of the couch, Steve was looking at you, guilt still twisting his features as he lifted one hand in your direction, taking a tentative step towards you.

“Just let me explain, please,” he whispered - it was such a strong contrast with the yelling between you and Bianca from just a few moments before, your throat still burning. As Steve tried to take your hand in his, you stepped back, jaw set. “Go ahead then,” you croaked, crossing your arms after placing the pillow down. “Explain.”

He could see it already - your face hardening, back into the annoyance he’d seen that first day at the mall, a wall of pretend indifference falling in front of you as you took your distance, physically and not. It had been so quick.

“Bianca told Dustin about your father’s rule - that as long as you went out, then she could go out as well,” he kept his voice low, almost too low with the music blasting from Bianca’s room. “So Dustin asked me to ask you out - to try at least for the summer, so that they could spend those months together before school started, so I just -” he hesitated, his eyes wandering around the room and back to you.

“You just, what? Figured why not?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes a little - they burned, all the anger turning into frustration threatening to bring up tears. “Why not, I don’t know, get something out of this? Why not play pretend?”

“It wasn’t pretend,” you arched an eyebrow in his direction. “It isn’t. Hasn’t been since that party you got shitfaced - I wasn’t doing it for them anymore, even if it helped,” he shrugged lightly, meeting your eyes. “I do like you.”

“Right - you know what the worst thing is?” your voice shook, and you forced yourself to look away from him, fearing you’d break down any time if he kept looking at you like that. “She never asked if I could help. Dustin never asked. You never asked - all you had to do was ask,” you sniffled, quickly and angrily wiping your cheeks even though the tears hadn’t fallen just yet. With an unamused scoff, you continued, pointing at him with, palm turned up towards the ceiling, gesturing up and down his figure with a soft wrist, an almost theatrical gesture. “Instead there you are: Steve Harrington, the King of Hawkins, adding yet another name to the list. I’m sure your old friends would be sneering knowing you managed to get a fuck out of the - wait, let me think, what is it they called me?” you paused in pretend pondering, looking back at him. “Oh, right, heinous bitch.”

“You know that’s not true,” he took a step forward, his tone urgent. “You know I’m not like that.” “Do I?” you raised your voice suddenly, and he flinched back, eyes widening in surprise. “Because right now I don’t feel like I know anything. I don’t feel like I know you, Steve.”

“You do know me,” he argued, attempting to get closer again. “Sweetheart, please - I meant everything I said and did these months, I promise,” he reached his hand out, brushing your arm - immediately you jerked back, eyes flashing with warning. “Please,” he repeated, softer.

“No - no, you lied to me,” at this point, there was no reason to try and maintain your composure, tears falling freely down your face. Steve tried to reach up, brush them away, but you slapped his hand away with the back of yours, putting some distance between the two of you again, shaking your head and turning the other way. “You lied - I can’t believe I was so stupid to think you could change like that. So fucking stupid.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he argued, and you whipped your head around, looking at him wide-eyed. “Fair?” you seethed, both your hands resting on your chest - you curled your fingers in a claw-like motion, scratching at the skin left uncovered. “Go fuck yourself, Harrington.”

“Please,” he repeated, the word coming so naturally to his mouth. “Can you just -” “No,” a single syllable, harsh and firm in spite of the tears not ceasing to fall. “No, I’m done. Get out of here,” he didn’t as much as blink, eyes fixed on you, lips parted still mid-sentence, neck flushed. “Get out, Steve.”

“You won’t even listen to me?” he watched your jaw twitching, corners of your mouth quivering in a wry smile. “No, actually, I won’t,” you retorted, rubbing your cheeks with your hands to brush away the tears, a semblance of recollecting yourself. “Now get out.”

He hesitated - a few moments Steve hesitated, rocking back and forth as if contemplating trying to reach for you again. Then he stepped back, his gaze lingering on you a little longer.

When the door closed behind him, you felt your legs give out under you, the force of your cry rocking you so deeply you had to sit down again, folded on yourself as you let the hurt course through you, over and over again for hours, until you were spent.

x. I hate that you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call.

“Are you ever going to come out of this room?” Bianca called softly from outside the door of your bedroom. “At least before Christmas? Dad will burn the kitchen to the ground if you don’t check on him, you know that,” she attempted to lighten the mood a little.

She’d apologized that same night, much to your surprise - had pushed aside her teen angst to sit with you on the couch after overhearing your argument with Steve.

It wasn’t his fault. He does like you. He lied to me, said with such tiredness in your voice she couldn’t find it in herself to argue.

Bianca called your name, stepping inside at last.

“I have something for you,” she tried again, walking up to the bed. “Actually it’s from Dustin - he says he’d give it to you himself, but is terrified of being in the same room with you.”

You turned around on the bed, looking away from the phone on the bedside table - days, weeks, and it still hadn’t rung. Stupid, stupid -

“What is it?” voice hoarse, you sat up to face Bianca. With a quick smile, she hopped onto the bed with you, sitting cross-legged in front of you. On the palm of her hand, carefully balanced, was a little action figure.

“Princess Leia,” she said with a little grin. “He told me you remind him of her - plus he knows you like the movies, and somehow you managed to make Steve watch -” she cut herself off, eyes darting to your face with a worried expression. “Sorry.” “You can say his name, Bianca, it’s fine,” you sighed, a tired, not fully convincing smile moving over your face. You reached for the toy, taking it with the tip of your fingers.

“Don’t tell me it’s fine when you haven’t left the house to avoid accidentally running into him,” she muttered, and you arched your eyebrows at her. “What? It’s true.” “Is this how you repay me for making dad drop that stupid rule?” you scoffed, placing toy-Leia on your bent knee. “I’m fine, I guess I should’ve expected it.”

“I don’t know how he was when you guys went to high-school,” Bianca shuffled closer, leaning towards you almost conspiratorially, her gaze soft as she smiled, “but Steve’s a nice guy. Dustin says he changed a lot in the last few years - and he is sorry.”

“He said a lot of things that night but sorry wasn’t one of them,” you replied quickly, almost bitterly, and suddenly caught yourself by shaking your head. “Doesn’t matter, I just need a little longer.” “Okay,” she hummed, tilting her head a little. “Long enough that you can’t come with me to get presents?”

“Bianca,” you groaned, falling back against your pillows. She scrambled to her knees, reaching your side and placing her hands on your arm. “It’s winter, they take turns at Scoops Ahoy, I can ask when he’s there and when Robin is,” you turned your head to look at her, a light frown knitting your brow. “Please? I don’t want to go with dad,” she cried, shaking you lightly.

“Okay, okay, alright,” you sighed, and she squealed in excitement. “But I’m not carrying all the bags, understood?”

––––––––––

“Earth to Steve,” Robin called, waving her hand in front of Steve’s face. “You here?” “What?” he frowned, looking up at her. “Yeah, sorry. What is it?” Robin squinted her eyes lightly, scanning him with her lips a little pursued before shaking her head.

“I asked what were your plans for the holidays,” she said at last, the heels of her shoes kicking against the low wall that separated the backroom to the front of the shop. “Some chateau? Skiing lessons? Maybe Christmas at the beach?”

“Exactly how rich do you think my parents are, Robin?” he wondered, a perplexed expression on his face. She shrugged, making a sort of how-am-I-supposed-to-know face before Steve cleared her throat. “Nothing planned, anyway. I was supposed to meet Bianca and -” he hesitated, your name burning in his throat. “Their father. My parents are out, so they offered their spare room to let me spend Christmas' Eve and Christmas morning there,” he scoffed, tapping across the counter as he let his head hang low. “Guess that boat has sailed.”

“Alright, this is getting ridiculous,” Robin said, exasperated. “Have you even tried talking to her? Calling? Sending a message through Bianca? You’re moping, and it’s pushing the clients away.” “It’s December, Robin, and this is an ice-cream parlor - we have no clients to push away,” he retorted, receiving in response an annoyed look. “But no, I haven’t tried. She made it abundantly clear she wants nothing to do with me.”

“Maybe because your apology was shitty,” Robin exclaimed, throwing her hands up in a vague motion. Steve opened his mouth to reply, affronted, then closed it right away, frowning lightly. “You did apologize to her, right, Steve?” she said, slowly. When he didn’t reply, big, guilty eyes, the young woman covered her face with both hands, sighing heavily. “You are unbelievable, Harrington.”

“She told me to fuck off, I wasn’t going to stay around when - why are you looking at me like that, Robin?” he groaned, frustrated, bowing his head under the gaze of his friend and co-worker. “Because that was weeks ago, dingus,” she retorted, jabbing her finger into his shoulder. “You could’ve at least called her - worst she could’ve done was tell you to fuck off again.”

“Alright, I’m an idiot, what do you want me to say?” he scoffed, rubbing his arm where her finger had kept on digging. “I should call her now, right?” “Nuh-uh, your past just calling now,” she said, shaking her head. “It needs to be more extreme now.”

“Extreme?” he chuckled, rolling his eyes a little. “Yeah, right - like what?” when he returned his gaze on Robin, there was a wide grin on her face, mischievous and unnerving. Steve’s own smile faltered, worry taking over his features instead. “Like what, Robin?”

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you; Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“Bi, slow down, please,” you sighed, trying and failing to take your sister’s arm as she darted away. “Bianca! You do remember the meeting point should we - she’s gone, who am I talking to?” you muttered the last sentence to yourself with a sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose.

The girl had a curfew and money with her - you did not doubt you’d soon see her appear again with bags full of presents, begging you to help her carry something to the car. In the meantime, you could do some browsing of your own, perhaps stepping into the too-expensive shops you’d never dared to look at.

Much like yourself, a lot of people had decided to do their last-minute purchases at the mall, families and friends and couples alike wandering around you, head bent in conversation, hands and arms linked, names called out loud as children strode away. You’d missed it - the people watching. Sitting at the tables of the restaurant area, getting distracted from your book by this or that voice, that or this laughter.

You stood by the edge of the area now, gaze purposefully averted from the ice-cream parlor, bopping your head slowly to the rhythm of the distorted music coming from the speakers, when it suddenly stopped, leaving only the chatting as background noise.

“Though I've tried before to tell her / Of the feelings I have for her in my heart.”

Perplexed, you looked around, the sound coming back from the speakers but a little louder, and oh-so-familiar. Unwillingly you glanced in Scoops Ahoy’s direction, noticing your sister and Dustin first, grinning ear to ear as they locked arms, quickly scattering away from the entrance.

“Every time that I come near her / I just lose my nerve as I've done from the start.”

Steve appeared next, a mic in his hands, wearing his work uniform minus the hat, hair bouncing as he stepped onto the table closest to him. His eyes were already trained on you as he opened his free arm for balance. When you met his gaze at last, he gave a quick smirk.

“Every little thing she does is magic / Everything she do just turns me on.”

He turned his hand, palm up towards the ceiling, and pointed in your general direction - you could feel some people’s gazes turning towards you, a flush rising across your neck as you tried to keep an expression as neutral as possible, torn between horrified and amused.

“Even though my life before was tragic / Now I know my love for her goes on.”

He kept singing, moving from one table to the other, indifferent to the people sitting down - though, truth be told, everyone simply removed their food before he could reach the table, grinning up at him, laughing, tapping their shoes along.

Steve danced - he danced on the tables as he kept singing, Do I have to tell the story Of a thousand rainy days since we first met?, his gaze focused on you the whole time, a hopeful look in his doe-like eyes.

You cracked, a smile parting your lips as you quickly lifted your hand to cover your mouth, averting your gaze for a moment as he hopped onto the next table, picking up the chorus again - Steve Harrington had a nice singing voice.

And he’d just serenaded you in front of half of the city - laughter trailing on alongside a thunderous clapping, his face growing red as he moved from the table to the chair and then on the lower step in front of you, standing a little underneath your eye level.

“Hi,” he said, slightly out of breath, moving the mic into his back pocket. “Hi,” you replied, palm resting against your warm cheek. “I think you have some fans,” you commented then, tipping your chin up a little towards the people still looking at him - and, by association, you.

“I’ll learn to live with it,” Steve shrugged, moving up a step, standing now at eye level with you. “At least I know the right person was watching - would’ve been way more embarrassing if I’d just sang to no one, don’t you think?” he tilted his head a little, a curl of hair falling on his forehead.

“Like I don’t know Bianca was on it the whole time,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “She told me you worked shifts and I wouldn’t see you,” you added, crossing your arms over your chest. “And here I did my best performance just so that you could notice me,” he murmured, clicking his tongue. You arched your eyebrows, chewing on your cheek a little.

“You could’ve just called, you know?” you said, a little softer. “You didn’t call.” “You told me to go fuck myself,” he retorted and, unable to help yourself, you chuckled, lowering your gaze. “Which I get why - and I’m sorry.”

“Really?” you mocked, glancing around as people started to go on with their day again. “And here I thought your exhibition of The Police was just an early Christmas present.” “Oh, it absolutely was,” he nodded, laughing softly as he moved on the last step - still lower than you, but standing a little taller. “But I am sorry, and I mean it. And this was - I don’t know what it was. I just need you to know I’m not the person I was.”

“I know you aren’t, Steve,” you spoke quietly, moving a little closer, as if for fear someone else would be listening, watching.

“I should’ve told you right away,” he continued, tentatively reaching for your hand wrapped around your opposite elbow. He hooked his index with yours, pulling it slowly towards him. “And me saying I’m sorry won’t change the fact that I haven’t, but I promise it wasn’t just pretend. It wasn’t just to do Dustin a favor. I really like you - liked you since the party -”

“Where I almost threw up on your shoes?” you offered with a little smile, and some tension left his shoulders, lips quipping in a grin. “My God, Harrington,” you sighed, tilting your head back and letting your eyes flutter shut.

He wrapped his hand around yours, stepping up at your side, his head tilted to look at you.

“I fell for you, hard,” he spoke slowly, squeezing your hand once, twice. “I never meant to play any game, and I never, ever meant to make you feel like you were deserving of anything less than some idiot in a sailor outfit singing to you in front of a bunch of strangers, or someone who’d make you laugh when you want to, or who’s going to watch whatever movie you want, even though I still check behind my back to make sure Michael Myers is not following me because honestly -”

You cut him off so abruptly a hiccup left his lips, suffocated against yours as you placed just a quick peck against his mouth. His free hand reached up to grab your side, pulling you close right away as if afraid you would just slip from his grasp should he let go for even just a moment.

He kissed you deeper, letting go of your hand to wrap his other arm behind your shoulder, pillowing your head as he stepped impossibly closer. Only then you placed your hand on his chest, not pushing him back but moving your head so that you could look back at him.

“You screwed up, Steve,” you reprimanded, lips tingling in the aftermath of his kiss. “I know,” he nodded, moving his hand behind your head, cupping the nape of your neck as he leaned in again - before he could, you rested the tip of your fingers against his lips.

“And you have to talk to me, from now on,” you added in warning. “I know,” he repeated, kissing your fingertips.

“And you cannot ridicule yourself every time you fuck up, because it’s not -” “I know,” he interrupted, leaning in to kiss you again. Again. Again.

“I like you too, by the way,” your words were a little slurred, voice muffled by his lips. He pulled back abruptly, searching for your gaze as a sappy grin made its way across his face. “I’m not saying it again.”

“You like me,” he quipped, reaching to cup your cheek as you rolled your eyes a little. “Shut up, Harrington,” you muttered, even as you tilted your head to lean into his touch.

“You like -” before he could finish the sentence, you grabbed his collar with both hands, pulling him down to kiss him into silence.

This time he didn’t argue.

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