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heart-of-the-morningstar · 2 months

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✨Pretty Boy✨

OOOOOHHHH BUDDY I'm excited to post this story! I'm not gonna ramble for this one, so please enjoy the ride 😉

(I'm a teeny bit late on posting this but better late than never!)

Summary: You find something peculiar in the walk-in closet...

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, lingerie, mention of toys, oral (f receiving), collars, pegging

"Damn it! Where the hell is it?," you shouted in frustration. You should have looked for that dress before you hopped in the shower, things would have been way smoother. Now you stood in your walk-in closet with damp hair and adorning nothing but a towel that was wrapped tightly around your chest. You could have sworn you saw that purple sequence dress hanging in here last night! Where could it have gone? You rummaged around your closet for 10 minutes now, but you still came up empty handed! You stomped over to the last rack of hanging clothes closest to the back wall, scanning every article of clothing.

While pushing each dress from left to right that wasn't the one you were hoping to find, something had caught your eye. A small golden handle on the left side of the wooden wall with hinges on the right side. A door? You were in here so often, it's hard to imagine how you could have missed it! Tentatively, you reached out to grab the handle, curious as to what you would find. The small door slowly creaked open and...woah...

You blinked a few times to make sure you were seeing what you saw hanging in there. "Lingerie?," you mumbled to yourself. Well, it certainly wasn't yours, you never really cared to wear something like that yourself, and Lucifer never seemed to mind your decision either, thankfully. You pulled one of the hanging pieces from the rack to examine it closely. The design was elegant as far as lingerie was concerned. Black fabric with lacy red leaf designs on the breasts and stomach area with no coverage around either side of the abdomen.

It was cute...but who's was it? Perhaps it was Lucifer's ex-wife Lilith's? You weren't sure why she would leave it behind. Or why Lucifer would keep them. But the more you looked at the piece of clothing you held, that didn't seem right either. This was small, smaller than most lingerie you'd seen before. And from what you had seen from pictures, Lilith was not a small woman, far from it. She had to have been at least 7' ft. tall, she would never fit in something like this.

You continued to ponder this until you went back to explore the hidden closet. There were more items located at the very bottom that brought a sudden blush to you face. "Holy shit...," you mouthed, struggling to get your brain to process what you've just found. You felt like you just accidently stumbled into one of Hell's sex shops! Dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, collars, bottles of lube and...was that a strap on? What the hell was this perverted closet?! It didn't make sense! Why was this here? Who did this stuff belong to? Why would Lucifer...?

Wait...Lucifer...

Oh! OH SHIT!

It finally clicked in your brain. This was never Lilith's. This was Lucifer's!

“Ok, ok, it’s ok, it’s fine,” you told yourself, “it’s…oh fuck me…”

You stood there dumbfounded, imagining him in the skimpy outfit you held in your hand. You saw him sprawled out in front of you on the bed, drool trailing down the side of his mouth. You saw his half- lidded eyes staring back at you as you hovered over him, his expression filled with need and lust. Your face suddenly felt hot. You were so lost in your fantasy that you didn’t hear the footsteps growing louder behind you.

“Honey?,” Lucifer called out, “are you ready to go? We’re gonna be late for-” he froze as soon as he turned the corner and saw you in your hypnotized state. You snapped your head towards him, holding him in place with your vacant stare. You both stood there wordlessly for a few seconds until Lucifer finally found his voice again.

“I-I…,” he stuttered, “I can explain.”

Oh, you would love to hear his explanation for this. But you quickly decided that you were going to have a little fun with him. Feigning annoyance, you folded your arms across your chest, still hanging on the piece of lingerie.

"And when exactly were you going to tell me about this, Lucifer?" you chastised, almost cracking a smile. "Or were you hoping that I wouldn't find this dirty little closet of yours?"

"Yes! I mean no! Th-that's not it!," he stumbled over his words. He was panicking. It was adorable watching his cheeks turn a shade of red you've never seen from him before. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying to cool himself down after the sudden heat spike he felt climb up his face. "Please, love, I'll tell you everything! I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know what you were going to think. I was going to tell you...eventually."

"So let me get this straight," you replied as you sauntered your way over to him, making your way over to the shaken-up man. He backed away from you slowly until he hit the end of the vanity on the other side of the room, gripping it for dear life. Once you finally stood in front of him, you grabbed Lucifer by his tie and forced his face to be inches away from yours. He held his breath as you leaned in closer and closer until he could feel your hot breath on his lips. "You mean to tell me…,” you whispered, “that I could have been fucking you senseless in lingerie this entire time?!"

In that moment, Lucifer’s mind absolutely shattered. Did you say what he thinks you just said? He inhaled sharply after remembering how to breathe. “Y-You…I…th-this is…WHAT?,” he choked out.

“Did I stutter?,” you snickered. You closed the gap between you two and placed a searing kiss on his lips. Though hesitant at first, Lucifer couldn’t help but melt into you, his eyes fluttering shut, your tongues entangled in an elegant dance. You pulled away from him, much to Lucifer’s dismay and flashed him a lustful yet devious grin. “I’m sorry for acting like I was upset with you just now, Luci. That was a tad mean, I admit. In all honesty, it’s actually quite the opposite.”

Lucifer finally released his death grip on the vanity and stood up straight, adjusting his tie that you had loosened. “Th-That’s umm,” Lucifer swallowed hard, “that’s a relief to hear, darling. This is probably the best reaction I could have hoped for.” He flashed a nervous toothy smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I think,” you smiled coyly, dropping the towel you had wrapped around your body and revealing your nakedness to a now wide-eyed and mouth agape Lucifer, “we can be a little late for dinner.”

You saw Lucifer swallow hard at the sight of you. “S-sweetheart,” he began,” I admire your eagerness, I really do! B-but we shouldn’t be late, it’s nearly impossible to get a reservation there and-”

Before he could finish making up excuses, you tossed the lingerie onto the vanity behind him and leaned forward to place your hands on either side of him, effectively trapping him against it. “You’re the King of Hell, Lucifer,” you retorted, “what are they going to do if we’re late, turn you away? Besides…” you took one of your hands and palmed the very apparent bulge in Lucifer’s suit pants, causing him to moan, “we really shouldn’t go out while you’re in this state, don’t you agree?”

Lucifer tried to steady his breathing as you continued to rub him through his pants which were now becoming extremely tight and uncomfortable. “It’s-mmph fuck…your fault,” was all he could manage.

You chuckled, loving the effect you had on him. Not to be outdone, one of Lucifer’s hands quickly slipped down between your wet folds, eliciting a surprise yelp from you. You removed your hand from his pants and gripped his shoulder for balance instead. “Well, well,” Lucifer hummed against you, “seems like I’m not the only one who’s needy right now.” He continued to tease your entrance with his fingers, your grip on his shoulder growing tighter with every passing second. But you refused to let him have the upper hand.

“So that’s how we’re gonna play this, huh?” You breathed against his neck.

“You started it, so don’t-HEY!” With one swift motion, you latched onto Lucifer’s hips and threw him over your shoulder while he tried to playfully squirm away from your grasp. You turned and marched your way over to the bed with a coy smile. “Damn it, let me go!,” Lucifer laughed, but the hold you had on him tightened even further. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry! Please put me down, love, I didn’t mean to-WOAH!” You gave him wish by tossing Lucifer onto the mattress beneath him.

“If you’re really sorry,” you teased as you hovered over him, “you’re gonna put that tongue of yours to good use.”

Lucifer’s smile widened, nodding his head vigorously. You chuckled at his eagerness to please you; it was always so endearing. “You know this is supposed to be a punishment, Luci,” you joked.

“Oh trust me, darling,” he smirked, “this will NEVER be a punishment for me.” With that, he grabbed ahold of your waist and forced your body forward, your dripping cunt now mere inches away his lips. You had no time to respond before you felt his tongue dart across your slit. A wanton moan escaped your lips as he worked his tongue around your clit, circling it with such vigor and passion. His hands dug into either side of your thighs, making sure you couldn’t move away from his ministrations. You couldn’t help but begin to grind your hips against his face, attempting to feel as much of him as possible.

“So g-good for me, Luci,” you staggered, “ffffuuuuck, s-such a good boy for me.”

Your words only seemed to make Lucifer pick up his speed, humming against your slick. His forked tongue darted in and out of you at a relentless pace, his own erection all but forgotten at this point. He was more lost in your pleasure and your intoxicating taste to worry about the almost unbearable tightness in his pants. You felt yourself reaching your peak. No matter how many times Lucifer goes down on you, you knew you’d never last long. He knew exactly what he was doing and he took pride in it. That knot forming in your stomach was on the verge of snapping at any moment.

“FUCK LUCIFER,” you moaned, “FUCKFUCKFUCK!” You forgot how to breathe as your orgasm hit you, your walls clenching around nothing as Lucifer lapped up your juices and helped prolong your high. You caught your breath once your body began to relax again. You shifted your body downwards so you could see Lucifer’s face again, now freshly adorned with your release. He flashed you an innocent looking grin, making you smirk and roll your eyes. You gave him a quick peck on his lips, tasting the faintest hint of yourself on them.

“Good boy,” you praised him, a small whimper escaping Lucifer’s throat. “Go change for me,” you tossed your head to side, indicating to the clothing you left on the vanity. Lucifer’s face flushed a deep shade of red, nodding his head wordlessly. “I’ll be right back, love.”

You made your way off the bed and walked over back to the walk-in closet, stopping at your now new favorite section. You grabbed the strap on and placed it around your waist, adjusting the harness to make sure it was snug against your body. The appendage itself wasn't overly large, around the standard 6 inches. It was perfect for both of you though, who knows how long it's been since Lucifer's done this. You wanted to take things slowly. You grabbed a bottle of lube and were about to leave when you something else in that small cupboard caught your eye. You reached down and grabbed it, wanting to complete his little ensemble. You hid the object behind your back so Lucifer couldn't see it at first.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of the closet once more. You scanned the bedroom in front of you until your eyes landed on him. His back was towards you, sitting on the opposite edge of the bed, seemingly gripping the sheets below him. You could sense that he was nervous. And if you were being honest, you were too. But tonight you we're going to take care of him, he more than deserved it.

"Luci?," you called out sweetly. Lucifer sat up straight when he heard his name, looking over his shoulder and giving you a faint smile. You slowly moved towards him, your breathing becoming shakier. He stood up from his seated position, hands clenched at his sides when you stopped in front of him. There was no way to hide the flush of your cheeks when you saw him in his lingerie for the first time.

Breathtaking.

The minimal clothing hugged his body so well, and the black and red coloring made his pale skin pop. You couldn't stop staring, and he noticed. He looked away from you, feeling embarrassed, as if he were on display. You took your free hand and placed in under his chin, turning his head and gazing into his lovely yellow eyes. "You look absolutely stunning, Luci. So beautiful..." you trailed off, placing a small kiss on his forehead. Lucifer couldn't help but bury his face in his hands from your words of affection.

"Can you turn around for me, baby? I have one last thing for you," you asked. Lucifer did as you asked, exhaling a deep breath. You took the object you had in the hand behind your back and wrapped it around his neck. A deep red collar with beautiful golden patters and swirls embroidered onto it. Sewn into the front in large cursive letters spelled the words "Pretty Boy". Lucifer turned around and faced you again, lifting his hand to grab his newly embellished neck. "It suits you, my pretty boy," you cooed, palming his cheek and gently rubbing your thumb against his soft skin. You could make out the tiniest of tears forming in your lover's eyes as he leaned into your touch.

"Are you ready?," you asked sweetly.

"Yes," he whispered against your hand.

"We're going to take our time, alright?," you soothed. "If at any time you want to stop, tell me and we'll be done, no questions asked. You promise?"

"I promise," he smiled.

"That's my good boy," you approved. "How do you want to do this; on your back or on your hands and knees? Whatever you want."

Lucifer swallowed hard. "B-Back, please. Wanna see you."

"I was hoping you'd say that" you chuckled. "Lay down for me."

Lucifer quickly crawled back onto the bed and laid down flat on his back, his legs dangling over the edge. You grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it underneath his head, doing your best to make him as comfortable as possible. You walked around to where his legs hung, grabbing the bottle of lube and placing some on your first two fingers. "Legs up," you told him, and he complied immediately. His ankles now rested on either of your shoulders as he looked at you with the neediest expression you've ever seen from him.

"Let's warm you up, love," you hummed, "just relax for me, okay?" Lucifer shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths in and out as you shifted the fabric out of the way from his entrance. It also wasn't lost on you that his cock had been straining against his clothes this whole time, you planned on giving it some much needed attention. Slowly, you placed your first finger against his hole, feeling his body jolt from the sensation.

"I'm alright!," Lucifer nearly shouted, making sure you didn't pull away from him, "just...surprised me is all! Please don't stop."

With a smile, you pushed your index finger inside of him, feeling the tightness squeezing around you. Lucifer bit his lip and released a guttural moan. You set a slow pace as you thrusted your finger in and out of him, feeling his muscles relaxing with every movement.

"M-more, please more," Lucifer babbled. It was impossible to ignore his pleading, so you complied by inserting your second finger into him, picking up your movements slightly. "Ssshhhiiitt..." you heard Lucifer curse as you separated your fingers inside of him, stretching him further. You stretched and pushed your fingers inside as far as you could; Lucifer was already becoming an incoherent mess. After a minute or two of your continued ministrations, you finally removed your fingers from him, causing Lucifer to whimper desperately.

"You're doing so well for me, baby," you praised. You took the bottle of lube once more and applied a generous amount to the strap. You lined up the tip up against his entrance, hearing Lucifer's breath hitch. "Ready, Luci?"

"Yes, please," he whispered almost inaudibly.

You pushed the tip into him as slowly as you could, stopping only halfway when you heard Lucifer nearly scream.

"Do you need me to stop?," you asked anxiously.

"No, no! It's...it's alright," he heaved, "j-just give me a minute, please. It burns somewhat, I kind of forgot about that part." You stayed motionless for about 30 seconds before you heard Lucifer give you the okay to start moving again. You shifted your hips to pull out of him and began to slowly sink back into him. Lucifer clawed at the sheets beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations you were giving him. After only a few more seconds, you had sheathed yourself inside of him as far as you could go. The noises Lucifer was making sent shivers straight down your spine; you wanted more.

"F-fuck..." Lucifer choked out, "Please...please move...n-need it...need you..." He was barely able to form a complete sentence anymore. Not wanting to deny him any longer, you started thrusting your strap in and out of him at a steady pace. The slapping of your skin against his echoed throughout the room, mixing with Lucifer's moans of pure ecstasy. Lucifer arched his back as each of your thrusts brushed against his prostrate. You reached down and pushed more of the fabric away, finally freeing his aching cock that was already leaking an excess amount of precum. You began to stoke him in tandem with your thrusts. Lucifer's eyes shot open from this new sensation he could feel all throughout his entire body, letting out a scream of pleasure.

Lucifer stared back at you as you continued to pound into him. You saw the tears welling up in his eyes, a smile of pure joy spread across his face. It was a feeling of pure bliss; a sense of euphoria had ripped through him. His heart was full. You were and are his everything. You leaned down closer to him, and with your free hand, interlaced your fingers with his own.

“You’re taking me so well, Luci,” you cooed, quickening your thrusts. “You look so pretty, my sweet boy.”

“Hnng, c-can’t…fuckfuckfuck, so c-close, please, don’t stop…gonna-FUCK…gonna cum…” Lucifer mewled. “L-Love you…love you so much, my angel, p-please…”

Your thrusts became erratic and you felt his cock twitching in your hand, ready to burst at the seams. “Love you more, Lucifer. Cum for me, baby, it’s alright. Let it all out for me.”

With a few more sharp thrusts of your hips, his orgasm had knocked the wind of of his lungs. Strings of his hot seed burst out of him, ruining his lovely outfit and spilling over your hand. Your thrusts and stroking had slowed as you helped him ride out his high. Lucifer was left a breathless mess beneath you. You hummed as you licked your hand clean of Lucifer’s mess, savoring its taste. You inched your way out of him gently, locking your hands around his ankles and letting his legs sway freely off the bed once again. After stepping out of the strap, you went and picked up the towel you had left on the floor over by the vanity. You patted down on Lucifer's stomach, wiping away the remains of his orgasm. Crawling up beside him, you outstretched your arms and brought him flush against your chest.

"You did so well, Luci," you murmured against his ear, "are you alright? Do you need anything?"

Lucifer shifted himself so he could face you. His eyes seemed to shimmer when he looked into yours, his expression was soft and serene. "All I'll ever need is you, my dear. Thank you...for this. For everything. I love you...more than anything."

You leaned into each other, your lips crashing together as if it would be the last time. But you knew it wouldn't. You'd always be there for him, just as he would for you. You pulled away and brushed his fallen hair away from his face.

"I guess we missed our reservation," you joked.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm absolutely famished," Lucifer laughed. "I should probably go change again, huh?"

"Yes, go get your suit!" Before he could sit up, you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, placing his forehead against your own. "But leave the lingerie on underneath. I'm going to want dessert after our meal."

~~~~

⬆️ God reading my Lucifer smut fics live reaction

I got a lot of explaining to do when I meet Gigachad St. Peter after I leave this corporal realm.

Tag list: @kermitdafroggy, @luc1fersducky, @orbitinglumps, @bigfatbimbo, @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis, @lilzebeth, @bbootyyyshaker9000

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #my writing #god this took longer than intended #i beat my word count record tho!#this image of luci is my fav btw lol #enjoy you nasty peeps #love ya!

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professorcalculusstanaccount · 3 months

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What does the reconciliation between Haddock and Tintin look like? Up to the gallery there's a lot of implied sentiment. Do they ever talk about it? Does Tintin ever ask for advice / talk about his feelings for Chang with Haddock and Nash??

they haven't discussed things openly but have sort of gone back to being friends again, with lingering thoughts going on in the background. They both have an idea that they're queer but haven't come out explicitly.

haddock's british and tintin's belgian, would they ever sit down and just talk about feelings?

this follows on from this! chang has asked tintin to go dancing with him after tintin finally escapes the cave

#asks #tintin #adventures of tintin #fanart #captain haddock #archibald haddock #snowy #milou #tinchang #comic #the gypsum maw #internalised homophobia #my stories #i do not enjoy drawing backgrounds guys :(((((#but i love writing haddock :)))))

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dekariosclan · 4 months

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Imagine Gale as a talented and impressive young man, able to compose the Weave at will, skilled in a way that few can match, and favored by the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine that because of these accomplishments, he’s caught the eye of a few up-and-coming magic adepts, and he falls in love with one of them—his first real love. Gale isn’t one to toss the ‘L’ word around lightly, so when he tells them he loves them, he means it; he gives himself over to them completely.

And in return, they love him for his potential. For his status. For the magic he can command. They love the wizard they see on the surface, but not the man underneath. They are attracted to his power, but not to him.

So of course the relationship fails, after the thrill of his magic wears off. But because Gale is a resilient young man and he’s caught the eye of so many, he soon falls in love with another.

And then it happens again. And again.

And each time Gale’s heart is ravaged, his ambition to become a better wizard grows, because he’s being shown time and time again that his magic ability is all that matters.

So much so that, by the time Mystra decides to elevate him from Favored to Chosen to Lover, he welcomes her with eager, desperate arms. Because if all his worth is in his magic, and that’s all he has to offer, and that’s all anyone wants from him, who better to love him than the Goddess of Magic herself?

Except…there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that whispers she doesn’t really love him. There’s anxiety in his heart as time passes, and he reaches both the limit of what his talents can do and what Mystra will allow him to do. And most troubling of all: a growing panic that, just like his other lovers, she will soon grow tired of him and discard him if he can’t improve his magic any further.

He tries pouting, and pleading, and begging her to let him take more power, to let him be more for her, but she refuses. Smiles patronizingly. Tells him to be patient. But Gale can’t be patient when his power is tied so closely to his self-worth; he can’t be patient when doing so in the past has only ever lead to heartache.

So he does what he believes will be a Grand Romantic Gesture, one that will finally put him on equal footing with the woman he loves. Instead, it turns out to be a folly that dooms him and destroys his talents. And just as he’d always feared, Mystra tosses him aside the moment his magical gifts are gone—because what’s left of him holds no value for her.

————

Imagine Gale in his tower, alone, afraid, the ever-hungry orb in his chest, with only his tressym there to help him. No other friends to speak of. His colleagues forced to keep away for their own safety. His magical talents utterly stripped down, so that even when he does try and distract himself with illusions, he’s bitterly reminded of what he used to be capable of. Waking every morning wondering if it will be his last, ending every day full of loneliness and disappointment.

…and then he meets Tav.

At the lowest point in his life, at his most vulnerable, when he knows he’s going to be considered a burden, he meets this stranger and their group. So he does what he can to be useful—assigning himself to be camp cook, offering up his (now meager) magic skills, turning the charm up to 11—as he desperately hopes this will somehow work out. He’s pleasantly surprised when, after providing only minor details of his condition, Tav agrees to help him. He’s even more surprised when they actually follow through.

Imagine how Gale feels as Tav treats him kindly. As he grows to trust Tav, and then grows to like them. Imagine his surprise as he opens up and shows them more and more of himself, and they don’t turn him away.

But then his condition worsens. And he has to reveal everything: the foolish mistakes he’s made, and how dangerous he is as a result. He clings to Tav’s hand as he shows them his folly. He’s at their mercy now, and he knows this might be the last time he’ll ever feel the touch of another being, if they decide—and Gods, why wouldn’t they decide?—to cast him out.

…but they don’t. They don’t. Instead, they tell him to stay.

Imagine the relief Gale feels. The gratitude. And perhaps…just a hint of something more. Something that he dare not name, but that flares to life every time he thinks of how warm their hand was in his. Something that feels dangerously close to jealousy, when he’s had too much to drink and sees Tav smiling at another…

But he knows these are all foolish thoughts, because he has nothing to offer Tav. They are wonderful just as they are, but he…he is an empty shell of a man, a discarded husk of a wizard, and while they might tolerate him, he could never believe they might actually want him.

And besides, he still thinks of Mystra. He still longs for Mystra. She who cast him out, but to whom he still feels tethered. Sometimes he needs to cocoon himself in the weave, just to try and calm his fears and bring some joy back to his life, because magic is his life. And sometimes he just needs to see her face, even though that hurts as much as it heals.

One night he’s lost in thought, having conjured Mysta’s image after settling down at camp. Thinking that even if she hadn’t ‘loved’ him—certainly not in the way he’d loved her—she’d given him enough otherwise, hadn’t she? She’d amused him and been amused by him, they’d shared countless pleasures, why hadn’t he been satisfied with that?

Gale is so lost in thought he doesn’t realize Tav has come up behind him. Until they ask a question, startling him out of his trance. He’s a bit shaken, so he tries to turn the conversation from Mystra to the weave itself. And then a wonderful idea occurs to him, something that he’d been toying with already: what if they were to conjure the weave together?

He can show Tav how important magic is to him, let them experience what he does, perhaps even impress them a bit. But most importantly, share a moment with them. As friends would do…

He’s elated when Tav agrees. He leads them through the steps effortlessly, and they’re a surprisingly good student, following his instructions correctly (if a bit clumsily). He’s as excited as they are—perhaps even more so!—when they succeed in channeling the weave.

It’s such a pleasant, familiar feeling for him, like coming home to his tower in Waterdeep. Even as the weave connects him with Tav and makes them one, he’s easily able to hide his innermost thoughts, because he’s done it so many times before.

…but he’s forgotten that Tav has not.

————

Imagine Gale knowing every romantic partner he ever had only wanted him because of how he could raise their status, or how he could amuse them, or how he could command magic for them. And, each time, he was happy to oblige them, even desperate to oblige them, because if that was the price of their love, then he was sure it would be worth it.

But it still all came to nothing.

Now imagine Gale connected in an intimate way with someone he likes very, very much—while being what he considers his lowest, most worthless, and most humbled self. As far from the powerful, impressive wizard he once was as he could ever be. And suddenly a vision enters his mind from the lovely creature standing next to him. Only, to his complete and utter shock, it isn’t one where he is providing them with a service, or wowing them with his magical ability, or granting them some kind of power from one of the spells he commands.

Instead, when he sees their desire laid bare before him, it’s a vision of kissing him. Of holding his hand. The two most basic forms of affection and physical connection. The two things that he would still be able to offer them even if every last ounce of his remaining magical abilities were stripped from him. The two things he could share with them even if he was no longer Gale of Waterdeep, and just plain old Gale Dekarios instead.

Imagine the embarrassment and trepidation he feels at first, because surely he is mistaken?…and then the elation when he realizes that he is not. So much elation that his concentration is broken, the weave dissipating as he forgets about channeling it, as he forgets about Mystra. Because all that matters to him now is the image before him—the most pleasant and welcome image he’s seen in a very, very long time.

Imagine how that would feel…and how besotted, enamored and completely devoted he’d be to Tav afterwards. To know that someone finally—finally—just wants him.

Just imagine.

#Please enjoy this huge dissertation about Gale #(which was unintentional)#I originally wanted to talk briefly—BRIEFLY—about why the weave scene is so important to him #And then I….kept writing lol #Please also note that while this focuses on successfully channeling the weave I also LOVE the talk you have with him if you ‘failed’ it!#The same themes apply there because when you tell Gale you still think about being alone together he replies that he hopes to embrace you #It’s all about Gale finally finding someone who appreciates him just as he is and being able to connect with them #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale x tav #bg3

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jqnehr · 3 months

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𓂃₊ ⊹ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 : 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

⟡ ꒰ 𝐳𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 ꒱ ⨾ he plays along. you want to be smart? two can play that game. he’s better at staying silent than you. although a bit confused at why he’s so content with remaining quiet and not whining about the attention you’re keeping from him, it doesn’t take you long to work out why. zayne’s probably glad to have a moment of reprieve from your seemingly unceasing chatter (that he enjoys, though he’ll never admit it) to read, work or eat in peace. so, it ends with you breaking the silence, and him giving you the silent treatment. he’s too slick for you.

⭒ ꒰ 𝐱𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 ꒱ ⨾ is absolutely sure he’s done something wrong. did he say something that struck a nerve without him realising it? is it because he threw your favourite t-shirt into the hamper last night? or is it because of the last two pieces of bread he burned in the toaster this morning, since he can’t cook to save his life? xavier wants to ask you why and what’s wrong, but he’s a bit afraid to. you get this wild glint in your eye whenever you’re pissed, and it actually scares him (but he’ll never admit it because, come on—him, a seasoned soldier, essentially, who kills wanderers without a blink, is afraid of his girlfriend? yes. yes, he is). so he gives you space, looking like a kicked puppy, and you fold, feeling awful about it. all’s well that ends well.

⊹ ꒰ 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥 ꒱ ⨾ not only is he a yapper, but he’s a nagger. he’ll pester and pester and pester you, until you actually grow annoyed, and the silent treatment becomes real. then, he’ll leave post-it notes stuck around the place, with cute little illustrations of chibi-you with devil horns and fiery breath, and some of your favourite snacks next to it. rafayel’s like a little kid sometimes, with his pouting and whines and puppy-dog eyes, which never work on you. he spams you with texts of cooking videos, saying ‘we should make this tonight’, as if you guys have the ingredients to. ever clingy, he silently wraps his arms around your middle and buries his face into your neck, and you don’t have the heart to reject his touch. he’s an idiot, but when he sends you cat videos on an hourly basis even though he hates them, maybe he isn’t so bad.

im back with yet another cringeass headcanons list. this is me while writing this and y'all while reading it 🔥

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stevebabey · 9 months

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As Steve had found, sleeping beside Eddie is perhaps the most fantastic nightmare-repellant out there.

It’s why it’s so surprising when Steve lurches out of his sleep, sudden and unexpected. He startles a bit, confusion muddling in his brain as it braces for the familiar wash of terror… that never comes.

Instead of feeling doused in cold water, gasping and aghast, there’s a grogginess moving through his veins— something else, besides a nightmare, has woken him up.

It takes him another second to realise it’s Eddie’s hand. Eddie’s hand on his face.

“Wuh?” Steve rasps out.

He blinks slowly, the ceiling bleeding into his field of vision. It’s still dark out, indicated by the faint amber glow of streetlights spilling through the slit in the curtains. As sleep trickles out of his system, confusion takes it place — what is Eddie’s hand doing on his face?

As if the thought summons the action, Eddie’s hand on his face shifts, splaying across his cheek with a soft slap. He pats Steve’s cheek once, twice.

“Gone skip to town, baby.” Eddie says loudly.

What? Steve feels his face screw up, brows drawn together as he tries to make sense what Eddie’s just said. Gone to what? He pushes the hand off his face and lifts his head, peering across the darkness to the other side of the bed.

“What?”

“The river rapids told ‘em.” Eddie says, making no sense.

Steve squints and, wait, holy shit, is Eddie still asleep? A grin sneaks onto his face and just to be sure, he leans across and waves his hand an inch above Eddie’s nose. Nothing, not even a twitch. Holy shit.

“Told them what?” Steve asks, shifting up on one elbow to see if Eddie will respond.

“Where to go.” Eddie says, matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raising and falling as he says.

Steve snorts, his head ducking forward to smother it, even though Eddie seems far from waking. In fact, he snuffles a bit and turns his head towards Steve, nosing into the pillow. Steve can see his feet wiggling beneath the covers.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Mmf,” Eddie mumbles into the pillow. “Muffin man.”

“The muffin man?”

“What’s it to ya?”

Steve guffaws at the sudden Cockney accent that’s taken over Eddie’s voice. It makes him laugh so much that, incidentally, it’s loud enough to wake the other up. Steve’s pressing his face into his pillow, silent laughter shaking his frame, when Eddie’s bleary “…Steve?” reaches his ears.

He can’t stop laughing, a funny sounding squawk coming out his throat the moment he tries to explain. Eddie takes it the wrong way, a hand on Steve’s shoulder in a moment, that soft hushing voice dipped in sleep. “Steve? Baby? Was it another one?”

Steve rolls his face out so Eddie can see his stupid smile, can hear his laughter escaping out into the quiet night. He sees Eddie freeze as realisation moves slowly through him.

“You’re… laughing?”

It’s said with a breath of relief and Eddie’s entire body relaxes a bit. He swipes his hand up Steve’s shoulder, thumbing gently at his neck. “What? What’s s’funny?”

“You—” Steve manages to wheeze out one word. “—Sleeptalking.”

The two words are instantaneous, Eddie’s entire frame flopping down back onto the bed, bursting into his own sleepy giggles. Apparently, this is not the first time someone’s had this conversation with him.

“You fucking slept-talked, man.” Steve continues, his laughter finally beginning to die down. He’s still grinning, especially at the mirrored mutual, but slightly embarrassed, joy on Eddie’s face.

“It only happens sometimes,” Eddie admits bashfully. He grins across the pillow at Steve, wiping at one of his eyes tiredly. “When I sleep real deep.”

He lets out a deep yawn as if to prove it and Steve can’t help but yawn too. Damn, he was having a really good sleep— still, he can’t be mad at being woken for this.

“What exactly I’d say?”

“Ah, just,” Steve considers the truth and then discards it for a lie. “Talkin’ about how much you love my ass.”

Eddie’s cheeks turn red enough that it can be seen even in the dim light of the nighttime. He groans and buries his face in the pillow for a moment, before digging it back out. He darts across the sheets, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s shoulder.

“Well, it’s true.” He says, before turning over. His voice is a little muffled with his face turned away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, if I get back to sleep quick enough, I’ll have the same dream.”

Steve’s sure he’s got that dopey smile on his face that labels him positively whipped. He snuggles closer anyways, hand crawling over the dip in Eddie’s waist to tuck in, his body pressing up flush behind Eddie’s, a pair of perfect spoons.

“I’ll let you get back to that then, baby.” Steve hums, planting his own kiss on Eddie’s shoulder. Sleep claims them both, Eddie first and Steve… much later. But, well, Steve figures he’s lost sleep over a lot of things worse than this.

—

saw sleeptalking (and walking) eddie in this piece by @dwobbitfromtheshire and i literally. i was thinking bout sleeptalking eddie all day like headcanon freaking accepted— that boy talks stupid shit in his sleep 🫶 hope it’s ok to tag u! i wanted to give u credit

#crack written in an hour 🫶 enjoy #i love sleepwalkers that make no sense it’s so funny to me for no reason #also why Does it make sense that eddie is a sleeptalker. out here planning campaigns in his sleep i bet #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet

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ao3-shenanigans · 5 months

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Shout out to all the beginning authors, don’t be afraid to write badly and to write for yourself

we will love you regardless

#and if it’s *really* bad it might even become a cult classic #looking at you My Immortal #I’m mostly joking #I love all forms of writing and I love seeing y’all’s growth #even if I don’t always enjoy reading them I like seeing people write them #don’t be afraid to be cringy in these spaces- they’re ment for you #don’t be afraid to grow either #anyways ramble over #ao3 shenanigans #ao3 #writing #fanfic #fandom #archive of our own

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calumfmu · 1 month

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Baby, No Attachment

Reluctantly, you met Steve's eyes, that stupid smirk ever present on his lips as he drank you in. If you could melt into the floor at that moment, you absolutely would have, his stare burning into you, reminding you of that cool, summer evening you first met.

"Are we going to do this or not, Harrington?"

or; the 5 times Steve Harrington was an asshole to you, with the 1 time, he revealed his true self.

cw: 18+ mdni; smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, cream pie, squirting, angst (what's new), mean!Steve, Steve talking you through it once again, slight Eddie x reader, 13.7k+ words.

The boy you knew as your neighbor was quiet, yet quick in your neighborhood. Always on the go, never home, only when his parents were gone did you see him moving behind the windows of the two story Harrington home. Girls were reoccurring, a different one every week, countless times you’d seen the flash of a different bra-clad blonde or brunette in between parted curtains.

He was known as Steve, King Steve, the enigma of a man you only knew personally through rumors floating through the halls of Hawkins High. His cocky ego shining through shitty friends, the closest you would know to the truth behind the rumors.

Your first interaction with him was quick, the silhouette of his body dropping from his window as he tried sneaking out for the umpteen time that week. You heard a low groan as he landed wrong, curses escaping his lips as he found his way to his feet.

You were leaning against the vineyard covered wall of your own backyard, watching him through the cracks in the wooden fence separating your properties. A cigarette lay in between your fingers, the heat of it reaching your fingers as it continued to burn in your grasp.

“You good there, Harrington?” You asked, taking a slow drag as you saw his mop of hair pop up over the fence. A grimace was covering his face, a bruise over his nose and right eye. That’s different.

“Yeah, yeah, just perfect,” he replied, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. He barely glanced at you, running his fingers through his mane, settling it back into place. He brushed off his shoulders, muttering curses under his breath as he smoothed his clothing. You stared at him, cocking your head as you took in the sight before you.

You hummed in response, exhaling smoke as he seemed irritated in the moment. He didn’t know what to say to you nor you to him, as it was the first conversation you ever had since you’ve moved next door. It had only been a few months, but he had been the only one you heard anyone speak about.

“Aren’t you a little too young for that?” He asked you, stretching a hand over the fence as he signaled for you to hand him the pack. He seemed like a concerned father figure in this moment, irritation crossing his features even further than they did previously.

Looking down at the box between your fingers, you shrugged, feeling the cool, summer wind hit your body. The sun was setting, the golden rays casting a halo around his perfectly set hair.

You crossed the small distance between houses, pressing your frame to the fence as you held eye contact. You saw his throat bob, gulp barely audible as you centered your ground. Placing a cigarette between his outstretched finger tips, you smiled at him.

“Never too young for a little fun, Harrington,” you muttered, tracing your eye line over the fresh bruises. The cigarette gets placed between his lips, damp red meeting the yellow toned paper.

Steve rolled his eyes at you, patting down his pockets as he searched for something.

“Light?” You questioned, waving your own cigarette in the air around you. His eyes followed the movement, another sigh escaping from him.

“Yeah, come on, sweetheart,” he mumbled, craning his neck over the fence as he awaited your next move.

Smirking, you leaned forward, pressing the burning end of yours to his unlit. Faces inches away from each other, he took a few quick breaths, his cigarette slowly being lit from your own as he guided his eyes over your features.

His deep brown eyes bore into your own, a dark bruise beginning to set right on the bone. Strange enough, he seemed pretty with it, the contrast of colors and tones bringing out flecks of amber hidden in the iris.

Pulling away, he took a deep breath, smoke filling his lungs as he draped his arms over the wooden boards.

“Haven’t seen you around much,” Steve said, fingers tapping out ash. You watched as it floated in the wind, slowly walking backwards until your back hit the brick wall you previously stood against.

“Can’t stop seeing you,” you replied, squinting as you gestured up to the second story of his house. He followed your point, noticing how his bedroom window was directly across from your own. A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You’ve been stalking me, princess?” He asked, tongue darting out to run across his exposed teeth. You flushed in your face.

“Oh, don’t get shy on me now,” he continued, parting his lips to take another puff of the tobacco. Grumbling, you hid the smile that was threatening to burst out at his flirtatious behavior.

You snubbed your cigarette out, Mary Jane pressing into the concrete as a small billow of tobacco smoke pooled around the leather.

“I’m just making conversation, Harrington. We are neighbors after all.”

He nodded, eyes trained on you as they roamed over the length of your body. Only suddenly now did you feel self conscious over the short plaid skirt you wore.

“Say,” he began, lip briefly being sucked in between his teeth. “Let’s just bypass all that, and you could get to know me more as a … friend. A close friend.”

Closing your eyes, you laughed aloud as your head hit the brick behind you. The rumors of this Steve were materializing right in front of you. You opened them, only to be met with Steve’s gaze, smirk on his lips and cigarette pressed against his bottom lip as he slightly covered his face.

“Is that what you’re gonna call it?”

Two could play at this game, you figured.

“9 pm? I know a real nice spot by the lake,” he winked, making an ‘okay’ gesture with his thumb and forefinger. “Ladies love it, or so I’ve heard.”

“Or so I’ve heard,” you mocked him, laughter bubbling out of you. He followed your laughter, chuckling low as the breeze picked up around you.

“I could show you a real nice time, sweethe-”

“Steven!”

His head suddenly turned towards his open window, a woman’s voice calling out to him from somewhere deep in the house. It sounded like Mrs. Harrington’s voice, the memory of it from moving day when your parents forced you to bring over that homemade cherry pie. The smirk dropped from his face as he took a quick hit from the cigarette before flicking it somewhere behind him.

“Gotta go, princess,” he ushered, running a hand over his hair. He backed away from the fence, turning to duck on the side of his house.

He made it a few steps before quickly returning to his previous spot.

“Don’t wait up,” he called out, causing your smile to falter slightly. You covered it up, hoping to go unnoticed by him. “I might be a while before coming back, so don’t get your hopes up, princess.”

And with that, Steve Harrington was gone. The only evidence that he had even been there were the sounds of his footsteps crunching the gravel and the faint start of his BMW in the distance.

It shouldn’t have hurt you as much as it did when you didn’t hear from him that night. 9 pm came, then 10, then 11, next thing you knew, it was past 1 am with your window cracked open. You didn’t know what you were waiting for, a rock thrown at the glass or a whisper from below or for him to even burst through the bedroom door, anything to signal that he was to be true in his words.

He had told you after all to not wait up for him, to not get your hopes up, so it wasn’t his fault that you were feeling the way you did.

It definitely shouldn’t have hurt that much when you woke up in the middle of the night, still in your clothes (that you definitely did not pick out for him), to the sounds of a girl giggling. You squinted at your alarm clock, noticing it was nearly 3 am, the only light filling the room from the moon shining in the sky.

You crept to your window, straining your eyes in the darkness to see Steve and another random blonde making out with a fever as his hands snuck beneath her top. Her back was turned to you as his mouth licked into her, only separating to pull her top over her head before pressing his mouth to her neck.

As his teeth grazed a spot on her skin, his eyes fluttered open, making eye contact with you. They seemed to light up, an upward quirk of his mouth.

You pulled your curtains shut, heart beating rapidly as you realized he had completely seen you watching him. His stalker joke earlier ran through your mind, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

Fuck you, Harrington.

A few weeks had passed before your next interaction with Harrington boy, the summer hours ticking by slowly as you searched what to fill your days with. People watching in downtown became tiresome, the same groups of people making their errands around the same hours. The town was so mundane to you, atypical families with their 2-3 kids, the most action that had happened was a 12 year old stealing from the Mini-Mart on 3rd.

You refused to acquaint yourself with the people in town, finding the same interests in them something you would never have in common. That is, until Eddie Munson came around. Town freak, ostracized by many, quirky, over dramatic, seemed like a theatre kid despite never stepping on stage a day in his life.

He did his thing, sold whatever to whoever, while you sat in his van and looked pretty, listening to the rock music he was so drawn to. You didn't have much in common, but you really didn't need to. What brought you two together was the fact that Hawkins did not really accept either of you. You were still the new girl who had transferred at the end of junior year, and he was the super senior, one that did not seem like he was leaving Hawkins High anytime soon.

You sat in the front seat of his van, feet up on the dash, hands resting up by your head as you reclined low in the seat. He drove recklessly, barely paying attention to the road as his fist came up to bang at the stereo, music skipping periodically.

"Come on, man," Eddie muttered, cursing low under his breath.

You laughed at him, shaking your head at his antics, a thing you had gotten used to during the last few weeks. Trees flew past you as he made his way down winding roads, blurs of greens and yellows barely visible. The roads grew familiar, the route he normally would take when he was bringing you home at 4 am.

Squinting, you sat up in your seat, bringing your feet off of the dash.

"Where are you going, Munson?" A familiar building past you, next thing you knew, he was pulling up on your street. He flashed a wicked grin your direction as he threw the van in park, your house in the near, yet far distance. "I'm serious, Eddie."

"I'm making a special delivery," he winked at you, eyes wide as he reached towards his black aluminum tin. Glancing out of the window, you searched for any sort of noise, normally used to the 'special deliveries' being towards parties.

"Here?"

He gave you a 'mhm' in response, hoping out of the van as he made his way towards your house. You sat in shock, mouth dropped open in confusion as he swiveled around, waving his arms at you as you sat frozen.

"You coming or not, Yn?" He shouted, causing you to scramble out and shush him. Whether or not you were ostracized by the town or not, you had a profile to keep up. Rumors of hanging out with him were one thing, but being seen on one of his deals was another.

You jogged to catch up to him, arms crossing over your chest. Glancing down at your outfit, you realized what an odd pair the two of you made. Eddie, in his black ripped jeans, leather jacket and jean vest. You, in your mini skirt, maroon colored Mary Janes over socked feet, and cream sweater, cut off right below your elbows.

"I swear if you're delivering to my little brother, Eddie, I will kill you," you muttered, shaking your head as you struggled to keep up with his long legs. He cackled at you, shaking his head as the two of you continued on the trek to the house.

Your porch light was on, mirroring Steve's house next to it. There was no way your brother was that bold with your parents car in the driveway.

"Try again, Skipper," Eddie mocked you, finding humour in the way you often had to practically skip to keep up with him. You continued following him, jaw dropping as he walked over the Harrington lawn, converse scuffing over the tiled walkway.

"Oh, there's no way, Munson," you protested, shaking your head vehemently as his hand rose to knock at the door. He furrowed his brow at you, stopping his hand in his tracks as he stared, confused at your apprehension. You dropped your voice to a whisper. "I'm not going in there!"

"What's the big deal?" He dropped his voice to match your volume, glancing around him as if he was expecting someone to be eavesdropping.

"I just- I can't do it," you muttered, stepping closer towards him. Your voice was barely audible at this point, "Steve's in there."

His mouth was parted as his features were drawn up. His fist was inches away from the door about to knock, and pure confusion was written all over him.

"What?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes, "I said, Steve's in there." A red flush covered your cheeks as you dropped your gaze.

"And why are you being weird about it?" He asked, knuckles rapping at the door quickly as you yelped. Before you could make a run for it, the double doors swung open, the devil himself making an appearance. You turned around quickly, turning your back to him before he could meet your eyes.

"Munson." You heard Steve greet him, Eddie humming in response as you felt like disappearing. "Oh, hey there, princess."

"Princess?" Both you and Eddie spoke at the same time, nerves present in your voice and disgust in his. You turned around on your heel, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as Eddie glanced in between the two of you.

Opening your mouth to reply, you couldn't help, but immediately close it, losing all words to say. You noticed how his bruises had healed, revealing perfect skin and those big, brown eyes.

"Are we going to do this or not, Harrington?" Eddie's patience had run thin, voice irritated as he shook the tin in his hands. The contents made a loud noise, breaking up the tension in the air between the two of you. Steve rolled his eyes, cutting his gaze to the long haired teenager.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Munson," he muttered, stepping aside to let the two of you in. Following Eddie, you walked in, high on his heels. Hearing the giant door shut behind you, you took a look at the house, it being much bigger than your own upon entry. You and Eddie followed Steve as he made his way into the living room, a small group of teenagers you recognized sitting in various spots around the room.

"Party's here!" Steve joked, urging a crowd of cheers from them. As Eddie went to make his deals with the other teenagers, you found yourself standing in the corner of the room, hands clasped in front of you as you were unsure of what to do.

That was the difference between you and Eddie, while you were both awkward and quiet, Eddie had a way of being himself through and through. He could blend into any social situation, his loudness faking confidence that allowed people to either love or hate him. You preferred silence and politeness, normally standing in the background of your parents in their social gatherings.

"Didn't take you for a drug dealer, sweetheart," you heard Steve's voice behind you, causing you to jump where you stood, heart racing in surprise. He laughed, hand coming up to rest at your shoulder. "No need to be nervous, 's just me."

You glanced down at his hand, noticing the way it fell to his side the second your gaze landed upon it.

"I'm not," you answered, taking a small step back as this man was so deep in your personal space. "I'm just friends with Eddie."

"Hmm," a thick hand came up to scratch at his chin, and you couldn't help, but watch it as his fingers stretched out. A watch covered his wrist, the metal stretching over skin as a few loose hairs poked out from beneath his sweater. "Never knew the freak's first name."

Rolling your eyes, you turned towards Eddie, watching as he sat there flirting with a blonde girl. She was recognized as a cheerleader, her high ponytail swinging as she cocked her head, laughing at one of his jokes.

"Yeah, well, his name's Eddie, so..."

You didn't know what to say to this man, your last conversation flowing through your recent memory. His empty promise of hanging out with you that day sat in the forefront of your mind, that day being when you swore off the thought of entertaining the idea of him. Thinking of the memory had your fingers itching, the need for nicotine having your mouth water as your nerves got the best of you.

"We could have a smoke in the meantime, while he, uh," Steve seemed to read your mind, glancing over at Eddie continuing to make his deal. He was making a fool of himself, trying to impress that blonde. It seemed to be working as she giggled, tucking a strand of her bang behind her ear. "He, uh, finishes up."

"I've been trying to quit," you said, shutting down the flirtatious tone in his words. Steve quirked an eyebrow at you, smug look on his face.

"I see you smoke every night, sweetheart," his voice was low as he took a step towards you. You couldn't maintain eye contact, pursing your lips to stop the smile forming.

"You've been stalking me, Harrington?" You shot his own joke back at him, noticing the way his eyebrows shot up at you, recognizing the line. He laughed, shaking his head as he held up a finger at you, shaking it side-to-side in a 'No'.

"Nuh uh, sweetheart," laughter evident in his voice. "But I could, if that's what you're into."

You giggled out loud this time, hand coming up to cover your mouth. Your elbow rested at a hand that covered your chest, toe digging into the ground below you as you felt his eyes graze over you.

"Come on," he said, grabbing your hand as he began to lead you towards the sliding glass doors that led to his backyard. A red head girl made a low whistle towards the two of you, causing Steve to lightly smack her on the side of the head as he passed her. "Shut it, Carol."

The air was cold as the two of you stepped outside, summer breeze gently flowing through the layers of your clothes. You breathed into your hands, rubbing them together in hope that warmth met you. He led you towards that same side of the house where you first met, the memories from that first evening flooding back even more as your bedroom windows sat above the two of you.

Steve pulled a near empty carton of cigarettes out of his back pocket, opening it to pull one out. Placing it to his lips, he lit it, taking a deep inhale as the tobacco hit his lungs. His shoulders dragged in relief, as he exhaled, smoke swirling in the air around him.

"So, where've you been, princess?" Steve questioned, passing the cigarette to you as you looked around the backyard. It was much bigger than what you could see from your bedroom window.

"I could ask the same for you, Harrington. I've been around," you looked towards your bedroom window, the light still being on, just as you left it, and the window ajar as your curtains were slowly drifting out into the wind.

"Oh, you know, here, there," he wiggled his eyebrows at you, stepping closer to you as he welcomed the cigarette out of your hands. "Why stay home, when the world is at your fingertips?"

Rolling your eyes at him, you watched as his mouth parted, allowing smoke to flood in. He watched you under hooded eyes, tongue darting out to trace over his bottom lip. Your heart skipped a beat, ringing present in your ears.

"You could make yourself sound like a real pretentious douchebag sometimes, Harrington," your tongue mimicked his own, a quick glance at his plump lips.

A slow smile came across his lips, "You're into that, though?"

You shook your head, losing all words as he stepped closer to you. His hand came to rest at the wall behind you, his broad shape towering over yours as he looked down at you. The hand with the cigarette rested under your chin, pushing your head up so your eyeline paralleled his own.

"Then why are you here, princess?"

You fluttered your eyes shut as he leaned in, his lips brushing over yours as you felt his breath over you. The soft touch of skin had your heart racing, the only thing in your senses was the scent of Steve, tobacco and cinnamon.

Parting your lips with his tongue, Steve pushed his figure into yours, mouth covering yours. He tasted sweet, like cherry cola as his tongue found its way into your mouth. Your fingers fisted at the front of his sweater, pulling him further into you.

A breathy moan escaped him as he pressed you into the wall, his leg parting yours as you leaned up on your toes to reach his mouth. You felt him flick the cigarette off somewhere to your left, his now free hand resting in your hair to bring you in closer.

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, a low grunt coming from his mouth as your hand dropped to his lower abdomen, lightly rubbing at the area as you dared to press lower. His hand dropped from your hair, resting at your waist as he pushed the material of your sweater up, exposing the tiniest amount of skin.

You gasped into his mouth, as you felt his fingers brush the skin there.

"Really, Skipper?"

Eddie's voice had you jumping away from Steve, your body pressing into the brick of his house as he reluctantly took a step backward. He looked smug, thumb coming up to swipe at the wetness of his bottom lip. You brushed your hair into place, yanking down the rise of your sweater.

Steve let out a laugh, shaking his head as you hurried over towards Eddie's side. Eddie was looking at Steve in disgust, eyes squinted low as he reached up to wrap his arm around your shoulder. The cool leather of Eddie's arm contrasted the warm cashmere of Steve's sweater, you noted, it felt off.

"We gotta go," Eddie muttered, dragging you away from the side of the house. You felt like a little kid being chastised by your father, embarrassment replacing any other emotion you felt previously.

Eddie led you through the house, arm on your shoulder as Steve followed behind you two. You didn't know what to say as you avoided the curious gazes of a few teenagers in the living room. Their eyes were red with intoxication, the thick smell of marijuana filling the room.

Eddie swung open the front door, urging you out as he sighed heavily, the dramatics beginning to come.

"Eddie, don't start," you breathed, rolling your eyes as he gaped at you.

"You fucking kissed, Harrington, Yn," he flailed his arms around, aluminum tin swinging around with them. "Steve! Steve Harrington!"

"It's not that big of a deal, Eddie," you blushed, chewing on your thumb nail as he continued to shout Steve's name at you.

"Oh, but it is, princess," Eddie mocked Steve's nickname to you, rolling his eyes as he huffed at you. The front door was still wide open, if he didn't keep his voice down, you were sure he was going to hear you. "You don't know him like I do, Yn. Steve isn't--he's not that type of person."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" You rose to your defense, irritation beginning to pool in the pit of your stomach.

"Just believe me when I say it, Yn. He's just-" Eddie took a deep breath, rushing a hand through his long curly hair. He seemed to hear something that moment, ear tilting towards the open door as you stood impatient. "Just listen."

"Listen to what?"

"Listen!" He shouted to you, pointing in the direction of the house. You could hear whistles in the background, small cheers from the various teenagers in the house.

You could hear Steve's voice amongst the others.

"Finally, you got your hands on the newbie." Your heart dropped, not recognizing the voice. Meeting Eddie's eyes, his dark brown were filled with a stone cold emotion.

Steve's laugh echoed through the room, "Tommy, shut up."

"Before you know it, Tommy, all you're going to hear is 'Oh, Steve, yes, yes, yes!" the same high pitch squeal from the red head from before was mocking the tone of your own voice. Her laughter drowned out the sound of your own heart beat in your ears. "She'll cave like every other girl in this town. Remind me, Steve, how did I escape the Harrington charm?"

Eddie tugged at your shoulder, urging you to move from the scene back to the comfort of his beat down van.

"Come on, you don't need to hear the rest of it," he muttered, shaking his head as he took a few steps down the entry way. You shook your head, feet planted, hoping once more that Steve would come to your defense, even though you had no reason to believe so. He had left you hanging up on your first meeting, disappointment becoming your best friend.

"I don't even know her name. Hanging with 'The Freak' Munson, don't think it matters."

Those words from Steve were all you needed to hear before you were storming down the path, Eddie's hand loose in your own as you dragged him down the driveway. The clicking of your shoes on the pavement echoed through the air, Eddie quickly behind you as he was the one that struggled to keep up this time around.

You pulled at the door handle of the van, lips pressed in a thin line as Eddie took his time unlocking it. Swinging your body in, you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to make eye contact.

"Look, Yn," Eddie began, key hovering over the ignition. "Your house is right there, if you want to just..."

"Just go, Eddie. I don't want to be here right now."

You turned your body towards the window, ignoring the silence that filled the air. Sucking your teeth, you pressed your forehead against the cool glass, closing your eyes. This time around, you could forget about Steve, he wasn't that type of person as Eddie had put it, whatever type of person you thought he was. That much was clear.

"Mom, I look ridiculous."

You pulled at the pink dress you wore, its itchiness scratching at your neck. The billowing sleeves screaming at you as you took a glance at yourself in the reflection of the car door.

Your mom was standing next to you, adjusting her earrings as she leaned over to look at herself in the passenger side mirror. She rubbed her ring finger over her red lipstick, sucking at her teeth as she made sure her teeth were clean. She stood up to look at you, swiveling around to place her hands on your shoulders.

Giving you a once over, she hummed, pinching your cheek.

"You need just a little color in your cheeks, and you're perfect," she made a kissy face towards you, smiling in her infamous 'fake-rich' smile, as you called it. "Doesn't she look perfect, honey?"

Your dad hummed in response, locking the car as he made his way around the vehicle. "You look beautiful, darling."

Rolling your eyes, you looked down at the kitten heels on your feet.

"Why doesn't my brother have to come to these?" You complained, sighing as your mouth pulled at a few strands of hair that framed your up-do.

"He's hanging out with those kids he met at school. That young boy with the oddball mother, Joyce, I think her name is," your mother smacked at a piece of mint gum, focused on the fly aways that hung around your face. You smacked her hand away, grumbling as she titted at you. "Ah, Yn. Behave."

"I'm not 12, Mom, I don't need to show face at these events."

"I do realize this, darling. But if you ever want to make friends, how do you think it'll happen?" She turned away from you, following your father as she made her way across the pavement. You reluctantly followed in her footsteps, stiff in your movements as your feet hurt from the heels.

"I do have friends." Your face flushed a deep red.

"Uh uh, Yn. That one boy does not count, I do not want you hanging around him anymore," your mom continued, hand coming up to fluff up the back of her hair. She constantly adjusted herself, worried about the whispers of other stay at home moms and gossip mills of people her age. "Ever since I walked in on the two of you doing Lord knows what-"

"Mom!"

"You were doing what now?" Your father raised an eyebrow in your direction, your eyes avoiding his strict gaze.

Your mom ignored him, patting at his arm as she stepped in front of him, making her way up a driveway.

"We had clothes on, you're so embarrassing," you grumbled, crossing your arms as she turned to knock on a front door. She turned towards you, knocking your arms down as you rolled your eyes once again.

"Barely, darling. I don't like to think about it, it gives me premature wrinkles," she quipped, attitude dropping as the door swung open. "Mrs. Hargrove! Lovely to see you!"

You made a face, mocking her fake excitement as your parents stepped into the house. Immediately, you were met with the scent of flower scented perfume, cigarette smoke, and champagne. It was a soiree of adults around Hawkins and their teenagers they had dragged out, celebrating the middle of summer as the more unwelcoming months sat lingering in the distance.

You kept close to their sides, taking a glass of champagne in open arms as Mrs. Hargrove offered you all a few glasses. In public settings like this, you were 'allowed' to drink as long as you kept it to a few glasses.

Time passed by slowly, you introducing yourself to a few families, fake laughing at their jokes, lying to their faces about questions of college, and promising to come over their places, in which you knew you would never end up baking them that ever famous cherry pie your father raved about.

Escaping your mother’s side had you letting out a breath of fresh air, finding solace in the foyer where a tray of champagne flutes sat. A few groups of couples stood around having conversation that didn’t pay you any attention.

You felt a hand pull at your elbow, knocking you back slightly as you reached for your third glass of champagne that night. Looking at the person, you raised your eyebrow in confusion.

It was a blond with long, curly hair, a split in his eyebrow and a light dusting of facial hair over his face. His silver earring caught your eye, tucked deep in the curls that hung around his face.

"Want something a little stronger?" He questioned, flashing you a glimpse of a flask in his pocket. You looked around quickly, corners of your mouth quirking up as he wiggled his eyebrows to you.

"You're going to get us in trouble," you laughed, lowering your glass as he poured some of the contents in it. He glanced around as he poured, winking at you before putting it back in his pocket.

"From the looks of it, you like a bit of trouble," he smiled, grin wide as he showed his pearly white teeth towards you. He chewed on a piece of gum, tongue darting out every now and then. He shot out a hand towards you, waiting for your grasp. "Billy."

You took it, not breaking eye contact as it felt firm in your grasp. "Yn."

"New girl, right?"

You nodded, fighting the eye roll that came at the words. Ever since your last interaction with Steve, you couldn't stand the words to describe you. It had been nearly half a year since you came, so you figured these words would have warned off by now.

"Me too," Billy sighed, shoulders square as confidence exuded off of him. "My family just moved to this shit hole last month. You know, welcome party and all."

You hummed, agreeing with him as he described the state of the small town. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't your favorite. It was just like any other fake mid-town American city you had visited before.

Taking a sip out of your flute, you grimaced at the taste, the strong liquor overpowering the softness of the champagne. It earned a laugh from Billy, his cologne wafting off of him. The urge to find out more about this boy piquing your curiosity.

Before you could say anything, a hand came to snake around your shoulders. Snapping your head, your heart sank, that ever familiar scent of cinnamon and tobacco covering you. Steve smiled down at you, cockiness in his movements.

"Hey, princess," he kissed the air in your direction before settling his eyes on Billy. Immediately, you saw the change in demeanor, two alpha males seemingly in an attempt to intimidate one another.

"What are you doing here, Harrington?" Billy straightened up, voice low as he addressed the teen. Steve licked his lips, tightening his arm around you.

"What? Invitations cut off at the Harrington home?" Steve questioned, rolling his eyes at the blond in front of him. You pushed at Steve's side, heart fluttering at the way his grip tightened on your shoulder as you did so. His scent was overwhelming, cologne making you nearly lightheaded.

"Why don't you go fuck off elsewhere, Harrington, find someone else to bother," Billy stepped closer to the two of you, your alarm bells going off as you realized this stand off was a little more personal than you. Your eyes widened as Steve's smile dropped from his face, arm coming off of your shoulder as he stepped closer to Billy.

"Make me, Hargrove."

The two of them stood in a silent stand off, searching each other's eyes as no one dared to make a move. You stood back, admiring the view of the two men. You had to admit they were attractive, their display of dominance having you slightly blushing. Taking a sip of the strong concoction in your hands, you eyed the two men, waiting to see who would cave first.

You didn't have to wait long, your mom intercepting herself.

"Oh, Billy, sweetheart. I think your mom needs something in the kitchen," she smiled, patting at his back as he broke eye contact from Steve. The confidence that flowed off him earlier was broken, anger filling his blue eyes.

"She's not my mom," he mumbled, shoving Steve out of the way as he pushed past the two of you.

Your mom frowned, eyes trailing his path. "What an angry, handsome young man."

Steve snorted, his own gaze following the direction in which Billy made his way. Your mom reached over to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Smacking at her hand, you mouthed 'mooomm' at her, embarrassed if Steve had noticed.

"You're the young Harrington boy," your mother beamed at him, hand reaching up to brush against the single curl that hung over his forehead. Steve's height even towered over her, his head ducking down to meet her grasp. You flushed even further at that gesture, your hand coming up to rest at the heat of your forehead.

"And you must be Yn's sister, nice to finally meet you," Steve grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his mouth to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. Your mom was blushing at this point, the Harrington charm having its effect on her.

You rolled her eyes at the two of them, your mom swatting at his chest as he laughed politely. Tuning them out, you took another swig of your glass, fighting the grimace as Steve attempted to flirt with your mom.

He had your mom laughing, giggling like a school girl at his comments about her beauty. It was like you weren't even there, your mom forgetting she was a married woman as Steve charmed her.

"Yn!" Your attention was brought back to the conversation, your mom's voice drunk off of Steve's attention. "Why didn't you tell me you had dropped that goth boy for Steve here?"

You were confused, eyes flitting back and forth between the two. You had obviously missed a part of the conversation, key information that had you wondering. Steve brought a hand to your waist, pulling you into him. You stiffened in his arms, hand coming up to rest at his chest as you managed to keep a little distance between the two of you.

"What are you talking about?"

"Steve! He said he was taking you out tomorrow night!" Your mom gushed, clasping her hands together at her chest as she looked between the two of you. You knew she wasn't excited for his words or the fact that it was Steve, she was excited if it meant you didn't associate yourself with Eddie anymore. She never had a strong affliction for his long hair or his rock music or loud van that pulled up too late in the middle of the night.

"He is?"

"I am, princess, remember?" Steve questioned, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your knees almost buckled under you as goosebumps stretched over your body. His eyes glanced at your mouth briefly, not going unnoticed.

"No, refresh my memory, Harrington." You shot back, irritated at the reaction your body had.

"Yn." You heard your mom's voice warn you about your tone. You ignored it, focusing on the tall boy in front of you.

"Me, you, tomorrow night. 7 pm, if it's alright, Mrs. Yln?" He briefly addressed your mom, gaze shooting to see her eager nod. Returning his eyes to you, he began to smile. "There's that new movie out that I know you've been dying to see. You couldn't tell me enough about it."

"Oh, is that right?" You kept your words short as Steve's hand dipped lower on your waist. His fingertips brushed over the top of the curve of your ass, earning a small gasp out of you.

"That's right, sweetheart," his eyes wrinkled at the corners as he smiled down at you, dragging his fingers even lower. His gaze didn't falter as he waited for a reaction out of you.

"Aren't you two the cutest. Little love birds," your mom enthused, reaching up with both hands to pinch at your cheeks. She turned on her heel, walking away from the pair of you to engage with a couple a few feet behind her.

As soon as she was lost in the crowd, you pushed Steve away from you, ignoring his laugh as you stormed towards the front door. You needed to be away from him, he was an ass, lying to your mom like that, lying to you like that. You made your way out of the door, fresh air hitting your hot, flushed face.

Letting out a choked exhale, you closed your eyes, running your hands through your hair. You ripped out the clip that held it up, shaking it out as you caught your breath. Your arousal at the earlier situation pooled in your belly, heart beating fast as you were met with conflicting emotions.

"Yn?"

Swiveling around, Steve was standing behind you, hands tucked into his pockets.

"You're such an ass, Harrington."

He shook his head, looking down at his feet as you glared at him. Continuing your words, you couldn't help, but want to hate him in the moment.

"What the hell was that? All that lovey dovey shit in there? Scaring off Billy?"

Steve's eyes shot up in your direction, face turning up at your questions.

"Billy's a real piece of work, Yn. You don't want anything to do with him," he said, dragging his eyes over your chest. You looked down, pulling up the collar of your dress as it dipped down, exposing a little too much of your breast bone. He wasn't helping his case much.

His words reminded you of your conversation with Eddie that night, his warning of the type of person Steve was.

"Like you aren't? Because I want something to do with you," you retorted sarcastically, beginning to walk towards the end of the driveway. Steve's footsteps trailed behind you, irritating you even further before you huffed and leaned against a random car. He stepped in your space, shoes almost brushing your heels as you looked up at him.

He made a quick glance in the direction of the house before leaning in, pressing his mouth to yours. His hands found your hips, hoisting you up on the hood of the car before finding his place between your hips. Moaning into the grasp, you were caught off guard.

Your mouth moved against his, hands finding the hair at the nape of his neck as you pulled him against you.

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours.

"Wear something pretty tomorrow, princess," he pressed a quick kiss to your mouth before pulling you completely away, making his way towards the house.

You sat there dumbstruck, cool metal of the car seeping through the material of your dress. Lips tingling, lower belly wanting more, you squeezed your eyes shut, thinking about how stupid you would be if you believed Harrington for the third time in a row.

Eddie’s voice was low on the phone as you sat in your towel, window wide open as you felt the cool air of the night makes its way in. Madonna played on the stereo in the back, her voice blending with the sound of chirping crickets.

"You sure you can't come over tonight?"

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you listened to his whine.

"No, I can't, I'm under house arrest," you complained, rolling your eyes as you flipped onto your back. The phone cord wrapped around your wrist, your free hand coming up to twirl at it.

A static-filled voice came through the phone line, you recognizing it as your moms, "No, she can't go tonight, Edward."

Heat filled your cheeks as embarrassment pooled in your chest. You pulled the phone away from your ear, covering the end.

"Mom! Get off the phone!" You screamed, hearing your mom scream something back at you from downstairs. The phone line clicked as Eddie laughed, a deep chuckle echoing through your ears.

"She really hates me, doesn't she," Eddie said through his laughter. You closed your eyes, tightening the towel around your chest.

"No," You lied, gritting your teeth. Eddie didn't need to see you to hear the blatant lack of truth in your words.

"You're such a liar, Yn. I recognize hate when I see it," he said, you could hear the eye roll in his words. You tried not to think of his words, the mention of hate being a word he was so so familiar with.

"She just doesn't like your tattoos," you said, stretching your limbs out across your bed. Your towel peaked open slightly, exposing your upper thigh. The air felt cool against your skin, urging your eyes shut as you relaxed into your sheets. "And maybe your van or your long hair-"

"Or the music or the trailer or the drugs," he continued, laughing as he heard your giggle through the line. You heard something at your window, distracting you from Eddie's continuation of his speech.

Before you knew it, a mop of hair popped up at the open window, Steve's brown eyes glancing around your room. You gasped, sitting up as you gripped onto the thin towel that covered your body.

"You okay, Yn?" Eddie's voice brought you back to the phone, your eyes focused on Steve falling through your window. He hit the ground with a thud, a low groan escaping him as the wind gets slightly knocked out of him. "Yn?"

"I gotta go, Eddie." You said, pulling the phone away from your ear. You heard his rushed, 'wait, who is that?' before you put the receiver on the hook.

Your fingers gripped your towel, squeezing your legs together as Steve rose to his feet.

"What are you doing, Steve!" Your voice was low as you heard your mother making her way up the stairs. Eyes trained on the door, Steve followed your gaze, rushing over to lock it quickly. The knob jiggled, your mother's concerned voice sounding through the door.

"Honey? What was that? Are you okay?"

Steve had his palm pressed to the wood, eyes wide as he looked at you.

"I'm fine! Just dropped my ... bag?" You said, flipping Steve off as he furrowed his brow at you. He mouthed, 'really?' in your direction.

‘Shut. Up.’ You mouthed at him, ignoring the way he looked at you incredulously.

"That Edward kid better not be in there!" Your mom yelled, doorknob jiggling again.

"Mom!" You screamed back, closing your eyes in frustration.

"I mean it, Yn!" She said before you heard her footsteps walk away from the door. Steve waited a few beats, before turning to you, hands on his hips. His eyes roamed your body, the air feeling a little too cold as you realized you were just in your towel.

"Well, well," he said, smirk toying at his lips.

"What are you doing here, Harrington?" You avoided eye contact with him, standing up to grab the closest piece of clothing you could drape over your body. You opened your closet door, blocking the view of him as you slipped the item over your body. It was a sun dress, albeit on the smaller side as you meant to return it next week.

Stepping out from behind the door, you rubbed the towel against your damp hair, cheeks flushed.

"I said 7 pm, remember?" He looked at his watch, wrist raising up as he tapped on the small screen. He pursed his lips at you, eyebrows raising as you realized it was a quarter past the time.

"I didn't think you were serious," you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as your nipples began to harden in the cool breeze of the room. Steve's eyes followed, slowly dragging his eyes away to return to your face.

You sat on the edge of your bed, tightening your frame as Steve made his way to sit next to you.

"I always keep my promises, Yn," He whispered, hand coming up to rest at your thigh. You gasped as you looked at him, barely noticing the bruise forming underneath his right eye. Your thumb came up to brush against it, his hand stopping your movements just as you made contact with the skin.

"What happened?" Your voice was a low whisper as he held eye contact, a more solemn look on his face. You could recognize a specific look in his eyes, something he tried to cover up with his confidence and flirtatious advances.

"Don't worry about me, princess," he muttered, leaning into you. His scent filled your airways as his lips kissed you. His mouth was soft, making you melt on the spot as he licked into your mouth.

Moaning softly, you welcomed his touch, feeling the way his fingers tangled into your hair. His tongue ran over yours, lapping inside of your mouth as your breath became more and more heavy.

He pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw. Arching your neck back, your hand came to curl up at his hair, fingers digging into his scalp, eliciting a moan out of the man.

"Steve," you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as his mouth made a trail of marks down your jugular. Each touch felt like heaven's kiss, warm breath soothing the harsh marks he made. He pulled away from you, you pouted at him, dropping your gaze to the plump, redness of his mouth.

"I think that's the first time you called me my name, princess," he whispered into the air, hand coming to cradle the back of your head. A soft smile, different from his cocky smirk, crossed his face. He looked nice like that, you figured.

Returning his mouth to yours, he pushed you down on the mattress, towering over you as he maintained his assault to your mouth. The kiss became more rushed, Steve panting into your mouth as he hovered over you, hand slowly pushing up the material further up your thigh.

His fingers danced at the crease of your groin, your legs opening wider before you could even think about it.

"So eager, princess," He muttered against your mouth, reveling in the way you moaned his name. His fingers ran up the length of your slit, his smile at the wetness he was met with. "Already?"

"Shut up, Harrington," you grumbled, rolling your eyes at him. His eyebrows raised at you, his mouth dropping open to mirror yours as he pressed a finger inside. Holding eye contact, you moaned at the feeling of him inside you, his thick digit sending shock waves through you.

"I know you love it, princess."

His words added fuel to the fire, his finger moving deep within you as he searched for that sweet spot inside of you. Not taking long to find it, your back arched up into him, a loud moan escaping you.

"Shhh," he said, leaning on his elbow to press a hand to your mouth. Your face twisted up in pleasure as he fingered you, another digit pressing at your entrance as you opened up for him.

"Don't want mommy coming up here and finding you like this," he continued his taunts, your eyes fluttering shut as his fingers hit that pleasure point over and over. Whiteness pooled through your system, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

As his fingers stretched you out, you felt him rut against your thigh, thick jean-covered bulge urging more wetness out of you. The idea of him being turned on by this was bringing you closer to the edge than his fingers were.

His thumb came up to rub at your clit, a breathy sigh against his palm escaping. Your thighs were shaking at his point, his fingers quickening as he realized how close you were.

"Gonna cum for me, baby?" He questioned, smirk coming back to watch the look on your face. You nodded rapidly, mewling under his touch. Small moans came out of you, hips moving in sync with his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"Bet you want to cum on me, huh, sweetheart? Feel fucked out against my cock, baby?"

He pressed you, bringing you closer and closer with each thrust of his fingers.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, baby. Make you forget all about that Munson kid," he whispered against your ear, voice dripping with arousal as his circled your clit. Your fingers gripped at his forearm, half moon shapes forming as your nails dug in.

"Would you like that, sweetheart?" He asked, pressing a kiss to your temple. You felt the tension building up in your belly, warmth filling you as you came closer to your release. "You want Steve to fill you with his cock? Fuck you until you can barely remember your own name?"

You came with a shout, guttural moan coming out as his arched into his grasp. He laughed as you rode yourself through it, fingers covered in your slick as he pumped them into you the last few times. This man had done nothing to you other than finger you, but you felt like you ran a triathlon.

He sat up on the bed, removing his fingers from you as you sat there, legs open, dress pushed up to your waist. He held eye contact with you as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, tongue darting out as he sucked the digits into his mouth.

You moaned at the filthiness, not believing that Steve was as bold in bed, as he was outside of it. The smile around his lips was condescending as he watched you watch his tongue, lapping up your slick on his hand.

Glancing down his body, he was hard in his jeans, small patch of wet pooling in the front. You reached towards it, fingers just grazing the rough material as you heard a knock in the far distance.

Steve looked over towards your window, your eyes following the movement.

"Steven," His mother's voice was faint, his bedroom window wide open. "Nancy's here!"

You couldn't help but feel like you do this to yourself at this point, irritation not even something you could be bothered with feeling. Steve removed his hand from his mouth, standing up as you readjusted yourself.

"Gotta go, princess," he whispered towards you, pressing a chaste kiss to your mouth. It lingered, his hand briefly coming up to rest at your wild hair.

"Don't wait up," he winked at you, swinging his leg over your window sill. Arousal and anticipation pooled in your belly, remnants from earlier.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Harrington," You muttered, briefly wondering how much trouble you would be in if you just pushed him right off the ledge. He disappeared before you could even think of it further, the curtains fluttering as his hand disappeared out of sight.

He was going to be the death of you.

You had distanced yourself from the Harrington boy, not wanting to fall victim to his flirting again after the incident in your bedroom. Summer nights spent inside of your bedroom passed the time as your mom insisted you weren’t grounded, just not allowed to go out. You didn’t even know what you were under house arrest for, nothing significant enough happening that you would be in trouble for.

Whenever you had asked, she brushed it off, giving you some lame excuse that fell under the ‘more family time’ umbrella.

You hadn’t seen much of Steve lately, his bedroom light off and BMW missing from the driveway. You had heard rumors of him and Nancy being the IT couple around town, Eddie telling you over the phone. You insisted you didn’t care, complaining that he only told you because he wanted to rub it in that Steve “wasn’t that type of guy” even further.

Your little brother even had a life, spending his nights with the younger boys from town, you hearing him speaking on a walkie he had inherited from somewhere.

Tonight was your night to sneak out, finding yourself downtown as you passed by the local theatre.

You are searching for a store to buy your cigarettes from, the previous clerk you went to insisting that there had been a new law pushed urging 21 and over only. The lack of nicotine had you itching, mouth watering at every scent of the drug that passed you.

“Hey, new girl!” You heard a familiar voice behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Turning around, you recognized Tommy, his stupid, freckled face, smiling at you. Behind him, Carol and Steve stood, his arm around a young brunette you recognized to be known as Nancy.

You glanced up towards the night sky, wondering why you had never gotten into religion. Maybe then there would be something that would listen to you.

“New girl,” he taunted again, stepping closer to you. Only a few feet away, you could see all of the groups eyes on you, wondering where Tommy was going with his calls.

“Tommy,” you greeted him, hands shoving into your coat as you looked for an escape route. He took a step closer to you, urging you to come closer. You noticed a cigarette in his hand, your eyes flicking down to his grasp as your addiction took over any logical sense in your mind.

Taking a step towards the group, you nodded a greeting at the girls, avoiding Steve’s eye line all together. You had nothing to say to him, not even a greeting as he left you high and dry on your last interaction.

You had been successful avoided him for the rest of the summer, you definitely weren’t going to start now a week before school starts again.

“Long time no see, sweet thing,” Tommy’s nick name for you had you cringing, his annoying voice not even doing a portion of what Steve had done for you. You shook your head, ignoring the way your heart fluttered at the memory. It had been almost two months since you last heard him call you that.

“I’ve been around,” you said, squaring your shoulders as you eyed the tobacco in Tommy’s fingers.

“Still hang out with that freak kid?” He asked you, slapping his fist against his palm as he questioned you. You quirked an eyebrow, wondering what he was getting at.

“What kid?” You asked, knowing exactly who he was talking about. You knew where this was going, but didn’t have the energy to play along with his game.

“Munson, the freak, devil worshiper, whatever you wanna call it.”

His laugh was loud in the air as Carol followed, giggling into her jacket as both Steve and Nancy looked uncomfortable.

“What about it, Tommy?” You sighed, wanting him to get straight to the point. His laughter came to an end, looking for Carol for confirmation before his next question.

“What do I have to do to get a little something from him?”

You raised an eyebrow, dragging your eyes over his freckled face. Nodding, a smile crossed your face.

“Oh, Eddie doesn’t swing that way. He’ll pass,” you smirked, hearing the way that Steve snorted at your comment. Glancing in his direction, you couldn’t help but notice the way Nancy held her gaze on you, unfaltered.

“No, dumbass,” Tommy rolled his eyes, snapping at Steve who immediately quieted down. “I meant weed.”

“I mean, I guess I could make a call,” you looked down at your feet, shifting your weight side to side as you debated your options. You had no obligations to this man, but you felt the need to do a favor if it meant helping out Steve in the same breath.

“Perfect, you know where Steve lives-”

“She does?” Nancy’s voice was soft as she questioned the open air. Nobody answered even though the answer of you two being neighbors was simple.

“-so just come by and drop it off when you’re done making that run.” Tommy was casual in his orders, barking them off as if he was used to running things.

You quirked an eyebrow at him, “And when do I answer you?”

“I think you’ll do it if you even want a chance of a social life next year, babe.”

His threat seemed empty to you, not intimidated by the chance of your ‘social score’ being ruined. Eddie was the first friend you made in Hawkins, it was ruined before it even happened, and everyone knew that.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in his direction, “I don’t even have a way of getting there and back.”

“I’ll take you.”

Steve’s voice caused all of you to look at him, Nancy taking a step back to look at her boyfriend. Blushing, you didn’t know how to answer.

“Go ride with them, Nance. And I’ll meet you back over there,” he coolly replied, taking a step in your direction. She opened her mouth a couple of times, seemingly embarrassed at the way she had been tossed to the side.

“Steve, w-what?” She asked, confusion written all over her features.

“I’ll be back,” he said, stepping into her as you felt uncomfortable at the interaction. He looked like he was going to kiss her for a second, only to pat a hand on her cheek before stepping in your direction.

A hand was pressed to the small of your waist as he led you to the maroon colored car. It was a few streets down, the group of teens behind you getting smaller as you watched Nancy with her pair of eyes on you. You felt guilty, even if you hadn’t done anything to her.

“You’re even a dick to your girlfriend, Harrington,” you said, as he opened the passenger door for you. You took a look at him before sliding in, tucking your feet in as the door slammed behind you. He made his way to the drivers seat, settling in as he smirked at you.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he replied, key pressing into the ignition.

“You might want to tell her that,” you quipped, head turning towards the window as he took off down the street. The lights of downtown faded in the background as you made your way towards the desolate part of Hawkins.

You were confused as more and more trees appeared, the way to Eddie’s trailer becoming more and more clear.

“How do you know where he lives?”

Steve glanced at you, turning down the stereo so he could hear you better. You repeated the question, eyes trained on the trees becoming more sparse as you approached the lot.

It might have been the first time you saw Steve blush, “Oh, Nance’s litt- Nancy’s little brother’s here all the time, playing a dumb board game or something. I drive them sometimes when they don’t have a ride. Your brother’s there too, sometimes.”

You rose an eyebrow at the slip of the little nickname, humming as you turned towards the window. Trailers began to pass you, Eddie’s appearing with his van parked right out front.

“She’s so your girlfriend, Harrington,” you muttered, getting out of the car before you could hear him say anything. You didn’t want to linger on the thought that Steve had been taken by someone, a truly good girl, no matter how much you liked to pretend you were. No connection had truly been made between you, but you did enjoy that cat and mouse chase you had going.

You made your way up to the stairs, knuckles rapping at the door. Eddie appeared, confused as he stood there in a tight black t-shirt, exposing the bottom of his stomach.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, not even saying hello. His eyes squinted as he noticed the headlights of a car pointed in your direction. “Is that- is that fucking Steve?”

You grumbled, pushing him back into the trailer as you shut the door behind you. You felt Steve’s eyes on the two of you, you didn’t want him to see the interaction.

“I thought you couldn’t come out. House arrest or some other bullshit,” Eddie complained, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat down on the couch. You shrugged, eyes trained on everything else but the man in front of you. “And yet you’re here with Steve fucking Harrington.”

Eyes widening at the harshness in his words, you scratched behind your ear.

“We need weed,” you said, avoiding his statements. Eddie shushed you, finger pointing to his ear. “I didn’t even say it that loud, dimwit, I just need some.”

Eddie pursed his lips at you, staring, unmoving as you mirrored his stance. Hip cocked out, you placed a hand on your hip, tapping your toes against the floor.

“Why would I give Harrington some of my stuff?” He asked, defensive even as he stood up to make his way to his room. He was grabbing the tin anyways, making his way out back to where you stood.

“Because you love me and want good things for me,” you said, but it came out more like a question. Eddie rolled his eyes, grabbing a random baggie before shoving it in your grasp.

A smile crossing your face, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Love you, Munson.” He face filled with color as he glanced down at the floor.

You turned around to make your way out, Eddie’s hand darting out to grab you.

“I’m doing this for you, okay? Not Harrington, not Tommy H, not anyone else, okay?” He asked, eyes set deep into you as you nodded along to his words. The serious expression in his face made you want to cry, he had never been so stoic around you. “Whatever you’re doing, just … I warned you, okay? Please be careful.”

“Always will be,” you muttered, watching as his eyes searched yours once more before dropping to the products in his hand. He didn’t say anything else, so you took that opportunity to run out of that trailer, making your way back to the beemer that sat in front of the property.

Steve jumped as you made your way into the car, singing along to some random song of the radio. He raised an eyebrow to you, questioning if you got the stuff. You pulled it out of your pocket, showing him the large amount he had given you.

“Holy shit, Munson,” he laughed, shaking his head as he started his car. He high-tailed it out of there, car speeding over the empty streets as he made his way towards population.

The drive had you thinking, wondering what the hell you were doing in the front seat of this car. Steve’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel, the rhythmic noises urging you to think of the reality of the situation.

Him and you would never work out, he was always doing something, somebody, never gave you a considerate time of the day. You were lucky if you got more than 20 minutes with the asshole.

He couldn’t be thinking of you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that he did whenever he left his bedroom window open.

“Yn?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, his hand waving in front of your face. He was pulled into his driveway, another car, one you recognized as Tommy’s, parked next to it. You heard shouting coming from the backyard, the splashing of a pool as Carols voice screamed.

“Sorry, just … thinking,” you muttered, grabbing the bag off of your lap to hand to Steve. He looked confused as you reached for your seatbelt, clicking it off of you as you reached for the door handle.

“You’re not coming in?” He asked you, voice a lot softer than you ever remember it being. Your hand stopped on the handle as you turned to face him. You weren’t sure what he was getting at.

“I can’t?” You asked, voice careful considering your next words. “Nancy’s here? And I’m sure Tommy and Carol want me dead.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head at your answer.

“They don’t hate you, and Nance is not my girlfriend,” he said, hand coming out to rest at your thigh. His thumb dipped onto the inner muscle, butterflies flowing through your stomach. “Just come in, for a little bit.”

You shook your head, noticing the way he leaned closer to you. You felt his breath against your lips, the scent of spearmint gum coming from him.

“Just a little bit,” he whispered, pressing a small kiss to your lips. You leaned into it, hand reaching across to rest on his own leg.

Parting from you, he took a small breath.

“Or we could maybe have a little fun here?” He asked, running a finger to the heat between your legs. The material of your dress was pushed up as his fingertips danced over the material of your underwear.

Your legs opened, inviting him in as he rubbed circles over your heat, watching the way your underwear became stained with your wetness. A whimper escaped your lips, eyes fluttering shut as he began to massage your sex.

“What’s wrong with a little fun?” He whispered, pulling back your underwear at the waistband, just to let go, smirking at the way you jumped when it snapped at your skin. “Nancy doesn’t have to know everything.”

Your face dropped as you pushed his hand off of you, straightening your clothes as you felt a sting at the back of your eye.

“Woah, Yn,” he said, putting his hand up in surrender as you pulled your jacket over your frame, shielding the exposed skin your dress had to offer. “What happened?”

Crossing your legs, you didn’t dare look at the Harrington boy.

“Is that what this is?” You questioned, hearing Eddie’s words in your mind from earlier. Steve sputtered, confused at the sudden change in mood.

“What are you talking about?” Apprehension clear in his tone, he tried touching you again, only to be smacked away.

“Am I just a distraction for you whenever you’re bored?” You began to raise your voice, annoyance prickling at your tone. “Whenever you want something a little different from Nancy?”

Steve sighed, pinching his nose bridge as he processed your words. Silence lingered in the air for a moment, the only sounds present were the distant ones of the teenagers in the backyard.

“Did you honestly think it was anything more?”

His words had you snapping your head in his direction. You couldn’t believe his words, jaw dropping as he stared at you.

“W-what?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, Eddie’s face appearing in the back of your mind. His words were crystal clear now, the false hope of Steve Harrington tarnishing your ideals of him. You knew he was with the brunette girl, you knew he was in a relationship, you had heard it all summer. Even as he denied it earlier, you felt it inside of you that they were together.

“I’m sorry if you thought it was anything more,” he answered you, uncomfortably adjusting his hair. This would be the moment where he pretended like he had been loyal to his girlfriend the entire time. “I think I’m, like, with Nancy now.”

You rolled your eyes at him, not choosing to answer as you stormed out of the car. You slammed the door shut, crossing the lawn to your own house, not caring that you were knocking on the front door, even if you had snuck out earlier. Your mom answered, confused at you presenting yourself, when you should’ve been in your room the entire night.

“Yn? What’s going on?” She asked, glancing behind you to see if she saw anyone. If she saw Steve, half way out of his car, staring in your direction, she didn’t say anything, instead inviting you in as the tears began to come.

She didn’t say anything as you threw yourself in the house, closing the door behind you before you hugged her, letting out a tear as you buried your head in her arms. Your mom was confused, but her motherly instinct kicks in, silent as she was wrapping her arms around you as you sobbed.

You didn’t want Eddie to be right, but he had been the entire time. Admitting to being with Nancy wasn’t the worst part of it all after denying it all night, it was just how he had made you feel important even if it was for a split second. Deep down, you knew he wasn’t to be true in his words, but for the moment, you liked to pretend. He slipped into the role so easily, it made you feel like it was natural, him being the missing puzzle piece inside of you.

Steve wasn’t the person you had thought him to be, he was much worse.

The school year had began, three months and now deep into the winter season, and you had kept your distance even further from everyone else. Eddie had been bothered by it at first, wondering why you were even ghosting him when it came to your isolation. He knew it was Steve related, but he didn’t press the situation, choosing to give your space as you needed. He knew you would come back around eventually.

You heard rocks hitting your window at night as you kept it closed, Steve’s own window ajar as he hung half way out of it. The only response you had was to turn up your stereo, ignoring him as you felt your story was over. Being a pawn in his game wasn’t the way that you wanted to live your life in this town, waiting for the school season to be over until you could make it to college.

You chose to sulk in your room, realizing the self loathing and isolation weren’t going to get you anywhere, but you could pretend as long as it brought you inner peace. You shouldn’t be this upset over someone like him, but you couldn’t help it.

Steve's window across the way was lit up, curtains drawn as shadowed figures moved behind it. You crossed the distance of your bedroom floor, closing the journal that you scribbled in. Two shadows danced in the swaying of the pulled curtains, you figured it was Steve with Nancy, a normal occurrence you saw in the late hours of the night. His window was cracked open, the curtains being sucked out of the opening as the harsh weather made its claim over your part of town.

Just as you went to turn around, you saw a hand strike up, hitting the smaller one next to it. Gasping, you covered your mouth, not believing the sight in front of you. How could Steve hit Nancy like that? You didn't realize he was that type of person, an asshole in every aspect of his life.

The smaller figure fell out of view of the window, presumably on the bed as you saw a small bounce of the shadow. You chose to run out of the room, nearly knocking down your mom as you descended the stairs.

"Honey, what's going on?" She called out to you, but you ignored it, throwing open the front door as you hurried across the lawns. You couldn't waste any time, pounding your fist against the wooden double doors.

"Nancy?" You called out, fist rapidly pounding. All of the Harrington cars were in the driveway, you knew they had to be home by the way each light on the first floor was on. Nobody answered, your fist began to hurt with the force of each blow to the door.

Your face was flushed as it flew open, Steve's mom standing there with her perfect, chestnut hair, styled down to her shoulders. She held a dishrag in her hands, wiping wetness off of it as she looked you up and down, curious.

"Oh, hello, Miss Yn. Is everything okay, darling?" She asked you, peaking her head out to glance around you. She looked for something as you took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say.

"I just- your son," you took a few deep gasps, trying to look around her for signs of the Wheeler girl. "Is Nancy okay?"

She pursed her lips, hand coming up to rest at her hip. You saw a spitting image of Steve in that moment, now knowing where he got it from.

"Uh, Nancy?"

"I saw- She, uh... She fell," you breathed, head shaking as you struggled over your own thoughts. "I don't know what I saw."

You felt crazy as Mrs. Harrington took a look at you. Her gaze slowly traveled over your body, her head nodding slowly as she glanced briefly behind her. She seemed at the same loss of words as you.

"Nancy's not here, darling," She said, beginning to close the door. "You should go home."

Your hand shot out, stopping the wood from closing. The woman gasped, shocked at your bravery in doing so.

"No!" Taking a step towards the home, you couldn't just leave it as that. You were in the doorway at this point, craning your neck to look behind her as you searched for the brunette. "I saw her."

"Honey, I don't know what you saw, but you need to go-"

"Yn?" Steve appeared behind her suddenly, confusion draped over his eyes. A small gasp escaped your mouth as you realized you had the situation so, so wrong.

His eye was yet again bruised, a small cut on his mouth as he ducked his face towards the floor. His body was covered by his mom as he stood behind her, hand coming up to grip the frame of the door. Mrs. Harrington took a look back at her son, not phased by the injuries on his face.

"Steven, go back to your room," she said, shaking her head as placed a hand on his cheek. He flinched away from it, eyes not leaving you as he moved around her. She protested, annoyed at the fact he followed you outside, stepping out of the warmth of the home. "Steven! Before your father-"

"I'll be back," he said, hands on you as he slowly pushed you away from the entrance. He spared a look back at her as his hand found yours. "Please, don't tell him."

The older woman looked at him in his eyes, a silent conversation occurring between the two of them. Glancing at your clasped hands, she took one look behind her before nodding, closing the door with a soft thud.

"Steve? What's going on?" You asked, feeling the warmth of his hand as he led you towards his car. He shushed you, pushing you inside as he unlocked it. The smell of old leather and tobacco invaded your senses, fear shaking your bones as you did not know what to take from the situation. You watched as he settled into the driver's seat, key in ignition before pulling out onto the main road.

Silence overtook the two of you, the only sounds being the small beginnings of the pitter-patter of rain hitting the windshield. The look on the boy's face made him look so young at this moment, his big, brown eyes blinking away the stinging of tears, hand coming up every now and then to touch the red on his lip.

"Steve?"

He didn't answer you, instead pulling over to the side of the road as deep throes of trees surrounded you. He rested his head in his hands, fingers running over his face as the rain continued to grow heavy.

Your hand came to rest at his back, uncertainty in your movements as you weren't sure what you were doing here.

"Steve?" You tried once again, his gaze finally meeting yours, lashes wet with tears. The bruise over his eye had swelled at this point, his fingers coming up to shield the majority of the injury from your wandering look. You moved your hand to grab his, leaning over the center console. It left his face as your grip tightened, fingers intertwining in the darkness of the car.

"You weren't supposed to see that," he muttered, looking down at your chin as he dropped eye contact. The Harrington you once knew was gone in this moment, replaced by a younger version who seemed scared of even himself.

"How long has he...?

Your voice trailed off as he shook his head at you, your question answering itself.

"You don't deserve that. No one does, you shouldn't have to deal with that."

Steve's laughter cut off the rest of your words, he looked up at the roof of the car, shaking his head.

"Little miss perfect, telling me how to deal with this," he tapped his knuckle on the driver's window, other hand dancing on the steering wheel. Heat was on your cheeks.

"I'm just trying to help, Harrington."

He nodded, eyes flitting in your direction as you shrank down in the seat.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly said, hand coming out to rest at your knee. "I... he-he wasn't always like this. It's whenever he drinks too much, and in case, you haven't noticed, I'm not the best as staying silent."

Your hand covered his in your knee, rubbing in small circles as his grip tightened. The warmth flowed through your body, small shock waves of electricity tingling at your spine.

You snorted at his comment, rolling your eyes at the memory of all the little quips Steve had given you since you met him.

"I promise I'm okay, it's not as bad as it looks," he continued, turning his body towards you as you leaned into him. His hand came to rest at your cheek, thumb rubbing at the skin on your cheekbone. "I'm okay, princess. I promise."

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but Steve hadn't been the most trust worthy person you had met in the town. This time, his lying benefited the situation, you weren't sure if he had lied for his own sake, or for yours.

He leaned in slowly, lips hovering over yours for a moment, before they lightly pressed in. A slight copper taste of blood was on his lips, masking the mint taste he so often had. You nipped at his lip, earning a hiss from him as he pulled away slightly.

"Watch it, princess," he laughed into your mouth, fingers lacing in your hair as he pulled you into him. You nodded, breathless sigh opening your mouth, letting his tongue find dominance over yours.

Suddenly, you saw the Wheeler girl, her brown hair against Steve's shoulder, arms wrapped around him in your memory. Pulling away, you placed a hand on his chest, elbow resting on the center console.

"Wh-what about Nancy?" You said, licking the taste of Steve off of your lips. His eyes traced your tongue's movement, his own tongue darting out as he attempted to lean in again.

"She dumped me," he shrugged, glancing up at you.

"Steve!" You exclaimed, eyes widening at his admission. This boy was hurting in more ways than one, all of it being dumped on you on this unexpecting night.

He shook his head, eyes rolling. "She said my mind was too busy on someone else."

His voice was low as he spoke to you, features dark. Heart kicking up a few notches, the hand on his chest began to pull at the fabric, exposing a few hairs by his collarbone.

"I was too distracted by you," he whispered into the air, mouth returning to yours as his thumb parted your lips. His tongue was warm and wet, gliding over the muscle of yours as he leaned over you. The sound of the leather crushed under you, Steve halfway out of his seat as passion was exchanged in the kiss.

"Get in the back, sweetheart," he muttered against your mouth, pressing small kisses to you. You leaned your head back, moaning at the way his wet mouth began to suck and lick at your neck.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Harrington," you rolled your eyes in pleasure, pants coming out of your lips. He nipped at the skin harshly, leaving teeth marks at the plump skin.

He unbuckled the seat belt that strapped you in, guiding it so it didn't harm you as it slid back into place. He reached down, patting at your ass as he urged you to crawl over the seats.

"It's okay," he said, voice low as his hand grazed over your hip. "I'm going to fuck you, sweetheart."

His words sent heat straight to your core, you jumped up at his words, hearing his laughter as you crawled into the back, ridding yourself of your shirt before he could utter the words. He followed you movements, long limbs tripping over himself as he struggled to manage his height in the back. He settled his weight over you, hips planting over yours as he returned his mouth to its previous place, sucking at the junction of your neck.

His hands found your waist, fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down your legs before working on his own clothes. The windows began to fog up, small squeaks of the BMW echoing into the rain of the night.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you, baby?" He said, pulling his jeans off of him before crossing his arms at his waist, hunched over to pull off the material of his button up. Your fingers went up to graze over his chest, feeling the dusting of hair under your touch.

The lack of light in the car allowed you no mercy, the glint of dimmed moonlight catching his eye. Your mouth was dropped open, feeling his heavy weight per you as his clothed manhood rubbed over your core.

Returning his mouth to your neck, he began to kiss down the expanse of your skin, goosebumps in its wake. You gripped his tendrils of hair between your fingers, moaning as he pushed you up the seat.

Your head was pressed against the glass, eyes closed in bliss as he pressed small kisses to the space below your belly button. His breath was hot, tongue darting out to lick against the pubic bone, his finger tips stretched over the plane of skin.

Your underwear was pulled down, your hips being ushered upwards as the material slid down your thighs. A kiss was pressed to your clit, your thighs opening as a gasp escaped your mouth, head smacking against the glass once more.

"Look at me, princess," you heard Steve whisper into the night, you shaking your head as your eyes were squeezed shut. You felt him breathe against the heat between your legs, Steve pressing another kiss to you.

"Sweetheart..." He warned, moving to sit up in the vehicle. Before he could make a move, you shot open your eyes, looking down into his dark brown. A smirk was present on his face, eyes filled with arousal as he nodded in approval at the eye contact.

His tongue darted out to lick at you, running languidly as it dipped between your folds. You mewled under his touch, struggling to keep your eyes open as he continued to please you.

His face grew more and more wet, his tongue dipping in and out of your sex as he maintained eye contact. Hand leaving your hip, he pressed a finger to your entrance, dipping it in as a shout escaped you. One of your hands pawed at the window, hips moving against his face as your chased the pleasure he was giving you.

"Steve," you drawled out, grip tight in his hair as you pulled his face further into you. He sucked at your clit, pumping a finger in and out of you at a steady pace.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he whispered against you, slopping up your wetness as he moved his head side to side. White began to cloud your vision, another finger slipping into you as he picked up the pace.

The spot inside of you ached so good, being hit repeatedly as his fingers curled inside of you.

"Steve, I'm gonna-"

He removed himself from you, fingers still moving, paces slower. You whined, the white hot feeling leaving your gut. A smirk covered his face as he leaned up to kiss you, chin wet from your slick.

"Not yet, sweetheart," his kiss was sweet, the taste of you and Steve mixing together as his fingers slowly curled inside of you. It was enough to tease you, keeping you on the edge of your orgasm, wanting more of him in every way possible.

"Steve, please. I need- I need-"

Your words were rambling, as you pulled him into you, fingers scratching at his back. His gaze was almost mocking, eyebrows raised as he took in the pleasure on your face.

"What do you need?" He asked, daring to press a third digit to your dripping entrance. You arched into the touch, feeling the way it poked at you. The burn was harsh, pleasure tickling at your spine, earning another wave of wetness to pool at his fingers.

"I need you, Steve."

"How bad do you need me?" He asked, pushing in the digit even further. Your eyes rolled back, breaking the stare between the two of you. Steve angled your downward, hovering over you as your hair fanned out below you.

His teasing made you even more sloppy, whimpers spilling out of your mouth, fingers clawing at his skin, wetness pressing at the corners of your mouth.

"So bad, Steve." Tears began to well up in the corners of your eyes, his fingers leaving your heat as he settled between your thighs. One of his hands hooked under the curve of your knee, angling it upwards as your foot draped over the back of the leather seats.

He kneeled over you, pulling down his own underwear as he took a hold of himself. Pumping slowly over his length, his head prodded at your entrance, teasing you as you fluttered around him.

"I don't think I heard you, sweetheart."

You huffed at him, trying to angle your hips up to ease his way in. A hand shot out, pushing you back down into the seat.

"You're such an ass, Harrington."

"And yet you're still here," he laughed, pressing further against you as he began to push into you. You stretched around him, hands shooting up to grip at anything around you as he moaned deeply.

His breath grew short, small pants escaping his lips as his hips stuttered, pressing his full length into you. Forehead pressed against yours, he leaned down to kiss you, moaning helplessly into your mouth.

Steve was big, his cock nudged deep inside of you, aching as it pressed against your cervix.

He slowly rolled his hips inside of you, cock nudging deeper and deeper as you groaned, hands gripping the globe of his ass. Rearing his hips back, he moaned before snapping them back in, the entirety of the car shaking with the force of it.

He urged animalistic moans out of you, red scratches on his skin as his teeth left bite marks on your skin.

"Feel so good, baby," he moaned, licking over bites marks that he left. The sound of slapping skin echoed through the car, humidity leaving your skin damp.

"So fucking good."

He began a string of words of encouragement, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You felt a feeling like no other bubbling in your core, pressure that felt like exploding as he fucked into you.

So pretty, princess.

You feel so good around me, look what you're-fuck, look what you're doing to me.

Gonna cum so deep inside of you, sweetheart.

This pussy's all mine, baby? All mine.

You moaned at his words, his thrusts becoming more sloppy as your wetness became a slip and slide that he struggled to keep up with. It came to a point where you only felt his head hitting against your sweet spot, blinding white pleasure clouding your mind.

Steve moaned loud, you felt a burst of his warm release inside of you, filling you up as he rammed inside of you.

"Cum for me, princess," he moaned, continuing to fuck you even through his own over stimulation. You screamed out loud as you exploded, wetness spurting out of you as he coughed out a loud, shocked laugh, hand reaching down to rub at your clit.

Arching your back, you moaned through it, feeling extremely lightheaded as he massaged you. His seats were a mess, dripping with your own release as you pushed him away from you. Removing himself from you, he sat back, admiring the way you laid there, spent.

"Well, that's a first," he laughed, reaching down to grab his underwear to wipe down the liquid. You blushed, hand coming up to cover the redness at your cheeks.

"Shut up, Harrington," you giggled, breathlessly as you felt him wipe you down. He pulled you up to a sitting position, pulled into his side as you winced at the soreness in your legs.

He frowned, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he rubbed the palms of his hands over your arms.

"You alright, princess?" He whispered into your hairline, covering you with his discarded sweater. You nodded, leaning your head back so you could look into his eyes.

They were filled with a warmer emotion, much different than the previous look he had. His hair fell over his forehead, bed head wild as he scanned your features.

"Does this mean we're friends now?" He asked you, smile tugging at his mouth as his thumb found its way over your cheek. It pushed at your bottom lip, parting your lips as it pressed inside, lightly brushing against your tongue.

It was your turn to laugh, rolling your eyes as you took a good look at him. He was spent, bruised and breathless, hope lingered in his eyes as he awaited your answer.

"You tell me, Steve." You said, pressing a kiss to his mouth again. He moaned again, cock stirring once more as your lips met. You both pulled away to look down at it, the dripping head leaking as it began to harden again.

You laughed, noticing the way his chest began to rise and fall shallowly.

"Fuck, princess," he groaned, head leaning back against the seat. His eyes fluttered shut. "You're going to fucking kill me."

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open.

AN: I love mean!Steve, I am sorry. I promise I'll have him as a sweetheart one of these days. This took forever for me to write, so let me know what you think?

#my writing #steve harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #smut #steve harrington fanfic #mean!steve #I love me some mean steve #like that's my man #my man my man my man #anyways #enjoy #oh and Eddie x reader if you squint

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 6 months

Note

OMG SAW UR ASKS WERE OPEN AND I RAN SO FAST HFJDJSBS

Anyways ok so imagine *trips over my own feet* imagine uhm baking cookies *stumbling* baking cookies with Lilia:3

No pressure ofc! I hope u will enjoy writing this if u do! And make sure to drink after and take care of urself!

Flour Belongs In The Cookies; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, fluff, some pining

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; Cloudy, you do know how bad his cooking is, right? Besides that, I hope you enjoy what I did with this little prompt!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You knew full well going into this that Lilia … wasn’t the best person to leave around food. Well, you didn’t know to the full extent how ‘bad’, ‘revolting’, and ‘utterly cursed’ he was according to his dormmates (and adoptive family? Still trying to wrap your head around that one, to be honest).

Yet, as you were both adding ingredients to the batch of cookies you were making, he had done nothing to tamper with the recipe or mess up by accident. Perhaps Silver, Sebek and Malleus were just overexaggerating it? Lilia has been completely fine, a great helper even!

“So,” you cleared your throat, breaking the quiet (which was both comfortable yet awkward). “Why did you want to bake cookies with me? Not that I mind, just curious is all.”

Lilia looked up from the wet and dry ingredients he was combining and offered you a cheeky smile with a wink. “Hmm, do I need a reason to do so,” he breathed with a silent chuckle, sneaking some of the raw dough into his mouth.

You tutted, taking the bowl away from him. “I don’t need you getting sick from eating that now–”

But your attempt at lecturing was silenced by a small puff of flour being slapped gently on your cheek; a white handprint now on it. “RUDE!”

Lilia was having a good old laugh, from either getting flour on you, the shocked expression on your face, or a combination of the two (knowing him, it was bound to be the last one). He was actually getting pink in the face because of it; was he even taking breaks from laughing to breathe???

“Ah, lighten up! Plus,” he paused and covered your hand in flour and gently slapped it on his cheek, “there, we match now.”

His magenta eyes were twinkling with mischief and you found yourself gently shaking your head and chuckling. Sighing, you picked up some flour with your hands and made it look like you were just going to cover the countertop with it, but you swerved, and slapped it into Lilia’s hair.

Lilia coughed, and rubbed at his eyes, trying to get the flour out of his eyes, but once he opened them again, you were gone. So we’re playing games now? But he just wheezed in delight and gave chase, a cup full of flour on hand so he could repay the favour. After all, since you both had matching handprints on your cheeks, you deserved to be bestowed some flour on your head.

“And here you were saying it was rude of me for that first move,” he called out into the dorm. They couldn’t have gotten far now.

He heard the curtains ruffle, and he floated over, not making a sound.

Peaking oh so carefully behind the curtains, he spotted you, silently giggling to yourself. And that’s when he made his move.

“Found you!~” And he sprinkled the flour over your head; much more gently than you did to him.

You groaned, knowing it would take a bit to get the flour out from everything… but the way Lilia floated overhead made it look like he was sprinkling snow… was he always this pretty? Even with him covered in flour, you still felt your heart flutter.

You mentally slapped your cheeks though, and got yourself up.

“Guess you did… but that was fun,” you chuckled, dusting yourself off to the best of your ability.

The moment though was ruined by your smoke alarm going off; it was a wonder that those even worked, but hey, at least they worked.

Rushing to the kitchen, you opened up the oven to have a mass of black smoke smelling of burnt food of some sort enveloping the both of you.

“What happened?!” You coughed out, trying to open up the windows and doors to let out the smoke.

Lilia grimaced, “Ah… perhaps I set the oven too high.”

And even though you had fun making the now coal-like cookies, perhaps store-bought would have been better…

...

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

#twst #twst x reader #twst x gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #just be happy the cookies burned and that you didn't have to eat them cuz he definitely messed with them when you ran #also enjoy getting flour out of the floorboards <3 #how tf did i write this in under an hour???#cloudy!#cloudy do not trust this man's cooking PLEASE #lilia is a little shit and i love that for him

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corvidcall · 2 years

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None Of You Know What Haiku Are

I'm going to preface this by saying that i am not an expert in ANY form of poetry, just an enthusiast. Also, this post is... really long. Too long? Definitely too long. Whoops! I love poetry.

If you ask most English-speaking people (or haiku-bot) what a haiku is, they would probably say that it's a form of poetry that has 3 lines, with 5, and then 7, and then 5 syllables in them. That's certainly what I was taught in school when we did our scant poetry unit, but since... idk elementary school when I learned that, I've learned that that's actually a pretty inaccurate definition of haiku. And I think that inaccurate definition is a big part of why most people (myself included until relatively recently!) think that haiku are kind of... dumb? unimpressive? simple and boring? I mean, if you can just put any words with the right number of syllables into 3 lines, what makes it special?

Well, let me get into why the 5-7-5 understanding of haiku is wrong, and also what makes haiku so special (with examples)!

First of all, Japanese doesn't have syllables! There's a few different names for what phonetic units actually make up the language- In Japanese, they're called "On" (音), which translates to "sound", although English-language linguists often call it a "mora" (μ), which (quoting from Wikipedia here) "is a basic timing unit in the phonology of some spoken languages, equal to or shorter than a syllable." (x) "Oh" is one syllable, and also one mora, whereas "Oi" has one syllable, but two moras. "Ba" has one mora, "Baa" has two moras, etc. In English, we would say that a haiku is made up of three lines, with 5-7-5 syllables in them, 17 syllables total. In Japanese, that would be 17 sounds.

For an example of the difference, the word "haiku", in English, has 2 syllables (hai-ku), but in Japanese, はいく has 3 sounds (ha-i-ku). "Christmas" has 2 syllables, but in Japanese, "クリスマス" (ku-ri-su-ma-su) is 5 sounds! that's a while line on its own! Sometimes the syllables are the same as the sounds ("sushi" is two syllables, and すし is two sounds), but sometimes they're very different.

In addition, words in Japanese are frequently longer than their English equivalents. For example, the word "cuckoo" in Japanese is "ほととぎす" (hototogisu).

Now, I'm sure you're all very impressed at how I can use an English to Japanese dictionary (thank you, my mother is proud), but what does any of this matter? So two languages are different. How does that impact our understanding of haiku?

Well, if you think about the fact that Japanese words are frequently longer than English words, AND that Japanese counts sounds and not syllables, you can see how, "based purely on a 17-syllable counting method, a poet writing in English could easily slip in enough words for two haiku in Japanese” (quote from Grit, Grace, and Gold: Haiku Celebrating the Sports of Summer by Kit Pancoast Nagamura). If you're writing a poem using 17 English syllables, you are writing significantly more content than is in an authentic Japanese haiku.

(Also not all Japanese haiku are 17 sounds at all. It's really more of a guideline.)

Focusing on the 5-7-5 form leads to ignoring other strategies/common conventions of haiku, which personally, I think are more interesting! Two of the big ones are kigo, a season word, and kireji, a cutting word.

Kigo are words/phrases/images associated with a particular season, like snow for winter, or cherry blossoms for spring. In Japan, they actually publish reference books of kigo called saijiki, which is basically like a dictionary or almanac of kigo, describing the meaning, providing a list of related words, and some haiku that use that kigo. Using a a particular kigo both grounds the haiku in a particular time, but also alludes to other haiku that have used the same one.

Kireji is a thing that doesn't easily translate to English, but it's almost like a spoken piece of punctuation, separating the haiku into two parts/images that resonate with and add depth to each other. Some examples of kireji would be "ya", "keri", and "kana." Here's kireji in action in one of the most famous haiku:

古池や　蛙飛び込む　水の音 (Furu ike ya　kawazu tobikomu　mizu no oto) (The old pond — A frog jumps in The sound of the water.)

You can see the kireji at the end of the first line- 古池や literally translates to "old pond ya". The "ya" doesn't have linguistic meaning, but it denotes the separation between the two focuses of the haiku. First, we are picturing a pond. It's old, mature. The water is still. And then there's a frog! It's spring and he's fresh and new to the world! He jumps into the pond and goes "splash"! Wowie! When I say "cutting word", instead of say, a knife cutting, I like to imagine a film cut. The camera shows the pond, and then it cuts to the frog who jumps in.

English doesn't really have a version of this, at least not one that's spoken, but in English language haiku, people will frequently use a dash or an ellipses to fill the same role.

Format aside, there are also some conventions of the actual content, too. They frequently focus on nature, and are generally use direct language without metaphor. They use concrete images without judgement or analysis, inviting the reader to step into their shoes and imagine how they'd feel in the situation. It's not about describing how you feel, so much as it's about describing what made you feel.

Now, let's put it all together, looking at a haiku written Yosa Buson around 1760 (translated by Harold G. Henderson)

The piercing chill I feel: my dead wife's comb, in our bedroom, under my heel

We've got our kigo with "the piercing chill." We read that, and we imagine it's probably winter. It's cold, and the kind of cold wind that cuts through you. There's our kireji- this translation uses a colon to differentiate our two images: the piercing chill, and the poet stepping on his dead wife's comb. There's no descriptions of what the poet is feeling, but you can imagine stepping into his shoes. You can imagine the pain he's experiencing in that moment on your own.

"But tumblr user corvidcall!" I hear you say, "All the examples you've used so far are Japanese haiku that have been translated! Are you implying that it's impossible for a good haiku to be written in English?" NO!!!!! I love English haiku! Here's a good example, which won first place in the 2000 Henderson haiku contest, sponsored by the Haiku Society of America:

meteor shower . . . a gentle wave wets our sandals

When you read this one, can you imagine being in the poet's place? Do you feel the surprise as the tide comes in? Do you feel the summer-ness of the moment? Haiku are about describing things with the senses, and how you take in the world around you. In a way, it's like the poet is only setting a scene, which you inhabit and fill with meaning based on your own experiences. You and I are imagining different beaches, different waves, different people that make up the "our" it mentioned.

"Do I HAVE to include all these things when I write haiku? If I include all these things, does that mean my haiku will be good?" I mean, I don't know. What colors make up a good painting? What scenes make up a good play? It's a creative medium, and nobody can really tell you you can't experiment with form. Certainly not me! But I think it's important to know what the conventions of the form are, so you can appreciate good examples of it, and so you can know what you're actually experimenting with. And I mean... I'm not the poetry cops. But if you're not interested in engaging with the actual conventions and limitations of the form, then why are you even using that form?

I'll leave you with one more English language haiku, which is probably my favorite haiku ever. It was written by Tom Bierovic, and won first place at the 2021 Haiku Society of America Haiku Awards

a year at most . . . we pretend to watch the hummingbirds

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