Never look back and say, could have been me-

After the “fire” at the mall, things didn’t feel right to you. Okay, maybe it was the nightmares about being trapped there, or perhaps it was about that huge monster that wrecked the place. Or maybe it was the stress of figuring out what to do with your life, or all of the above—whatever it was, things were tough for you. You felt like you were sinking, and something had to change, something had to be done. Maybe things wouldn’t feel so suffocating if you'd spoken about it, if you'd told anyone, but you didn’t. Even when your boyfriend, Steve, tried to get you to open up, you refused.

It made things difficult, it made you isolate. It made Steve feel like you didn’t trust him. Why couldn’t you open up to him like he opens up to you? It was always a two-way street in his mind.

Instead, you kept it all inside, letting it stew and stew. Until one day, the answer to your problems hit you.

You needed a break from Steve. It was just too much. You couldn’t handle it, and a boyfriend wasn’t going to fix this.

It was as if your mind went on autopilot. You were outside of yourself, watching as you and Steve sat down at your favorite park spot—the same place for picnics, the same spot where he told you he loved you under the stars. That special spot was where Steve had asked to meet you that afternoon. He had noticed something was wrong and just wanted to sit with you, showing he’s always there. In that very place, you told Steve you needed a break.

“What??” His eyebrows furrowed, trying to make sure he heard you right. He couldn't believe his ears—you're the girl of his dreams, the girl he sees a future with, the girl who motivates him to be better—for you and himself.

You repeated, “I want to take a break."

Your cool voice sent a shiver down Steve’s spine. Something was off. This wasn't the girl he knew. You loved him, right? This relationship meant more?

“Why?” He croaked, swallowing hard to try and hold in the tears in his big, doe eyes.

He couldn't believe the sight in front of him. You shrugged and said, "It's just too much. This is all too much.” Your vague answers hinted there was more, but you still refused to explain.

“You know you can always come to me for anything, right? If this is something we need to talk about instead of taking a break, let's talk about it.” He was an all-or-nothing guy—either you're in it for the long haul or not. He didn't believe in breaks and up until this moment, he didn't either.

His world was crumbling around him as you shook your head, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m fine. I just need a break. Just for a little while."

A part of you was screaming, "Just tell him! Snap out of it!” but you refused.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair, watching your distant eyes avoid his gaze.

“Either you're in this for the long haul with me, or maybe we’ll meet again later. I have no doubt you’re the one for me, but I don't understand why you won't tell me what's going on. Try to explain some of this, because it feels like you don't care for me as much as I thought. Maybe I misunderstood something in our relationship, but I feel like I can't reach you. You’re sitting in front of me, but I can't reach you. It’s like you're slipping through my fingers.”

You sat still, your eyes on his worn Nike sneakers. “I guess this is the end then."

His heart clenched at your words. The pain was worse than anything he had endured in the Russian lab. There was no way for him to fix this, no unlocking your heart.

He got up from the bench, tears close to falling. "If you ever need anything, I’m here, okay?"

You hummed briefly, feeling the cool wind hit the tears you hadn't noticed.

“See you around," Steve mumbled, crumpling his hands in his pockets and walking away. Leaving you sitting at the picnic table where he had carved your initials, tracing the letters with your finger. A sinking feeling settled in your heart as you realized what you had done.

A week had passed, one long depressing week had passed, and you found yourself once again lying in your bed. You spent most of the seven days in your bed, you called out of work, you didn't talk to any friends, and you just lay there kicking yourself for your idiotic actions.

You knew you had to see Steve, you had to apologize. You had to try and make this right. The thing that upset you the most was the thought of him at home, wondering why you did this. The least you could do was give him an explanation.

With a groan, you pulled yourself out of bed and dragged your tired body to the shower. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream. You wished there was a way to just disappear and not face any of it, wipe your memory from Steve forever. Everyone could be happy instead.

The drive to his house felt dreadfully long as you tried to think of what you wanted to say, there were a million things that you could say, a million excuses but you knew what you needed to do.

You swore your heart was going to beat out of your chest as you heard him fumble to unlock the door, holding your breath you waited for the sight that you knew would hurt you the most.

There he was, standing in front of you in a ratty old shirt and his pajama pants. He looked to be living a life very similar to your own for the last week. His beautiful eyes you loved so much were framed by dark circles, his hair looked like he had just gotten out of bed, and his usually clean-shaven face was actually starting to grow more hair on it than you had ever seen. It physically hurt to see him like this, you caused this, you were the reason for the depression he was obviously going through.

Hearing the pained way your name left his lips was the final gut punch you couldn’t stand to take, and tears started to fill your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, after everything you did Steve looked at you with concern. He actually fucking cared, even after you stomped on his heart.

The weight of it all made you feel like you were a breath away from collapsing on his doorstep, and you held on to the door frame. “Can I come in?”

Steve nodded, moving out of your way so you could walk to the kitchen and sit at the table. You waited for him to sit across from you before speaking.

Everything you had rehearsed on the way there flew out the window as you started to cry, “I’m so sorry Steve, I’m so sorry. I’m such a fucking idiot, I should have chased after you that day at the park. I should’ve fallen to my knees and begged you to forgive. I should've done anything else besides let you leave.”

Letting it all out left you gasping for breath as you sobbed. All you had to do was just confide in your boyfriend, tell him about how you had been feeling. Steve would’ve listened, he would've held your hand, he would’ve helped you through the nightmares. Instead, you pushed him away, you broke his heart, and for what? All it did was make both of you miserable.

Steve sat perfectly still, watching as you covered your face in shame as you cried, there was nothing he wanted to do more than take you in his arms and comfort you.

“I just want to know what's going on sweetheart.” Gently he pulled one of your hands away from your face so he could hold it as he spoke, “You pulled away from me and I don't know why. I want to help you, you’re my girl.”

Violently you shook your head, “I’m not! I fucked up! I fucked up!”

You could feel his warm hand cup your face gently, guiding it up to look straight at him instead of your feet. “Look at me,” He whispered, “Just tell me what's going on.”

With a shaky exhale you began to speak, “The mall, the fucking creature at the mall, the Russians, everything. I can't get it out of my mind, I can't escape it, it's been months but I can’t get away from it. How do we know all the Russians are gone? We didn’t even know about the ones in the mall before we were trapped, there could be more! How do we know that fucking monster is gone? How do we know any of this will ever go away? It's always there, I see them everywhere even in my dreams. I feel like I’m drowning.”

As it all flowed out of your mouth you could feel a great weight leave your shoulders, the first glimpse of sunlight in months. This was all you needed all along, the nerve to just talk about what you were feeling.

Steve held both of your hands in a firm grip, his fingers gently rubbing your knuckles. “Then let me help, let me be there, and help you carry the weight. You’ve listened to my fears and nightmares, now it's your turn. You just have to let me in.”

You nodded your head, fresh tears sliding down your face as Steve gently wiped them away with his thumb. He brought you closer to him until you could feel his warm breath on your lips. “We can work this out, you’re my girl right?”

“Always.”

~

He was wearing it this morning, while getting a cup of coffee in town. His cheeks were flushed red from the cold and the shoulders of his jacket looked damp, no doubt from the rain outside.  He looked like how Autumn felt (no matter what month the calendar said it was). He made her chest feel warm without a single word being exchanged between them, that was Fall. She missed it already. 

The rain was making it feel darker inside than it actually was (a lovely effect of mid autumn) and it was the reason why she had flicked the overhead lights on so early in the day. The soft warm glow above them touched his face just right, making his eyes appear greener than they actually were. But even as he squinted at the list of hot drinks written on the board behind her, she could see the flecks of brown hiding underneath. 

She wasn't sure why he did that. He always ordered the same thing every day, or at least on the days he came in. It was always a medium coffee with milk, one sugar, and a maple and pecan danish to go. She tried to memorise a lot of orders and faces, but his was the easiest to remember by far, she guessed someone might say he was her favourite customer. 

“Can I get…” Steve slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “A medium coffee with milk, one sugar, and a danish please.” He pointed to the stack of maple & pecan braids, before pulling out his wallet. It was a dark shade of brown, made from leather with these slightly worn edges and a few polaroids sticking out.

She found herself smiling, not over his wallet, but over the fact that she was enjoying being right a lot more than she usually would be. She liked knowing his order, getting it ‘right’, it made her feel like she knew him a little bit better because of it. Naive or romantic? 

“Don’t over tip this time.” She warned, in a slightly too sweet tone for her actual intentions. Steve had slipped her five dollars last Wednesday, he had placed it under the glass jar filled with marshmallows when she had her back turned to him to make his coffee. He was out the door before she had noticed it and she didn’t go chasing him down because she was too thrown off kilter to move. 

Tips were fairly normal, and extremely welcomed, but they usually consisted of loose change and crumbled up paper notes.

He furrowed his brows and screwed up his nose like she was talking crazy. “I never over tip. I always leave the exact right amount, or at least what I think is the right amount.” He shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly but she could hear the smirk threatening his lips in his voice as his eyes caught a hold of hers. She fought back her smile, it would just give him more ammunition to tip her. 

“Okay Steve Harrington.” His name slipped off her lips easily, it often did. She went back to making his coffee, if she got it done all the more faster, he could leave faster and then she wouldn’t be left having to stumble through a longer conversation than necessary with him as she tried and failed not to count the freckles on his neck. (She had gotten to twelve just the other day.)

“Hey, don't go full naming me and then expect me not to tip you.”

She felt her heart twist and tangle at his words. Why did he have to say things like that? Why couldn’t he be blunt, shy, or simply just in a rush like most customers. She turned back around to face him again, but as she handed him the white styrofoam take away cup, she kept her eyes specifically on his left shoulder.

“Your coffee.” 

His fingers accidentally brushed hers for the very first time. Oh no. 

“Thank you.”

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

There must've been a dozen leaves on Steve's car this morning. All red and orange with a few brown stems peeking through. He didn't mind leaves, in fact he kind of liked stepping on them in the Fall when they lined the sidewalk, the sound was almost satisfying to him. But right now, falling on his windshield, they were just an inconvenience. 

He thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t Winter, and that it hadn’t rained last night and left him with an icy-frozen over leaf sealed windshield. He would take the small wins where he could get them. He pulled his jacket sleeves over the palms of his hands, it didn’t occur to him to head back inside the house and find something to remove the leaves with, so, his own jacket clad arm it was. 

Steve knew his neighbours were probably laughing at him, but he couldn’t blame then, he did look pretty idiotic right now. He crushed under his breath as several yellow leaves stuck to his sleeve instead of falling into the ground like he intended them to after he brushed them off. And then he heard ‘it’. That soft half-heartedly hidden laugh and her voice following after it. 

“What are you doing?”

His favourite barista was standing behind him, in the middle of the sidewalk with her coat wrapped around her and a scarf tied loosely around her neck. It was different seeing her outside of the coffee shop, it felt different, it wasn’t like he had never seen her around town but he had just kind of gotten used to having a countertop and a few dozen brownies between them. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if the scent of split cinnamon and warm cookies was her or just a consequence of the environment. 

“Trying to get the leaves off my car.” He felt like a deer in headlights. “They're covering the windshield." Steve turned back around to face his car, pointing at the leaves to make sure she knew he wasn’t a crazy person fighting off imaginary leaves. But somehow, all his previous hard work had made everything from the glass to the hood look dirtier than before. “Fuck, it’s worse now.”

She laughed again, he wanted to bottle the sound like lighting. 

“Where are you going?”

“Just into town.” He slipped his hands into his pockets as something wet touched the back of his neck, please don’t rain, please don’t rain, please- Fuck. Rain started to hit the pavement simultaneously with his mental begging. She stepped off the sidewalk and rounded his car, before pulling the sleeve of her coat over her hand and pushing the leaves off. 

She was better at it than him. She was better at making coffee than him. At making conversation. Steve could easily come to the conclusion that she was just ‘good’ at things, but he felt like his partial bias towards his favourite barista was affecting his better judgement. He was a sucker for a pretty girl who smelled like warm sugar.

“Shit, you don’t have to do that.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want her help, he just didn’t want to be the reason her coat got ruined. The leaves were wet now, muddy, wet and bound to leave a mark. Her coat didn’t look crazy expensive but it was a pretty shade of forest-like green  and it deserved to stay that way.

“I don’t mind, anyway it’s better now.”  She looked down at his car proudly, he  liked that look on her, it made his chest feel warm. (Maybe wet Autumn leaves weren’t so bad.) 

“You’re magic.” The compliment just slipped past his lips, but he meant it, because deep down he knew  she probably was. He pulled open his car door but lingered with his feet frozen to the sidewalk as an idea came to mind. She was going somewhere before she stopped to talk to him, she most likely had somewhere to be and he wanted to return the favour and be the one to get her there. “Do you need to go somewhere or…” 

She shook her head before she even opened her mouth. “Oh no, no, I can walk.” Steve watched the rain touch her cheek, he was not, under any circumstances, letting her walk. 

“Come on, you cleaned my windshield, the least I can do is give you a ride.” He nodded his head towards the passenger seat. “Get in.” He could feel himself smirking, he wasn’t sure why, he wasn’t exactly the type to enjoy ordering people around, but it felt less like he was telling her what to do, and more like he was giving them the golden opportunity to hang out together outside of the coffee shop. And call it cocky, but he felt like she was going to take it.

“What about stranger danger?” She took a step closer to the passenger door. “Never getting into someone’s car that you don’t know and all that.” She did this cute little head tilt and he suddenly wanted to place his hands on either side of her head and put her right.

“Bullshit.” Steve slipped into the car and she followed his lead. “You know my coffee order. What else is there to know?” Probably a lot, like his parents' names and what sports he liked to watch, but for now, that felt like enough to convince her they weren’t strangers. They couldn’t be, not when he knew her smile like he knew the freckles on his neck that stared back at him every time he passed a mirror.

“Your birthday, your favourite colour…” She pulled her seatbelt over herself.

“Twenty first of November.” He interjected. “And…blue, if I had to pick.”

She looked over at him, a little stunned, a lot more intrigued. He could get used to this, to having the smell of her perfume attaching itself to the inside of his car, to having her look over at him like that. He was suddenly jealous of anyone who had gotten to love her, to call her their own. He should roll the window down, he was clearly losing his mind. Her vanilla scented perfume was quickly making him delirious. 

“I like blue. It’s a good colour." 

Yes, it was. 

I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush

She felt an April-like warmth rise to her cheeks. The bitter cold outside was somehow making it feel ten times worse. She was sure her face would be hot to the touch right now, and all because he was there. Standing in the candy/chocolate aisle just two weeks away from Halloween. And one week away from Hawkins October harvest. 

He was reading the back of a Hershey's bar, it looked like it might be cookies and cream from where she was standing. Her personal favourite. She had a basket full of treats, some for October thirty-first, some for the end of the week. She liked the harvest, she liked seeing the Fall decorations everywhere and she especially liked the excuse to eat candy corn and drink apple cider all day. 

“Hey.” Steve was suddenly standing right in front of her, she should’ve been used to it by now. They lived and worked in the same small town, they saw each other at least five out of seven days of the week. And yet every time, that soft edge in his voice threw her, every damn time. 

“Hi.” She suddenly hated the sound of her own voice but she pushed that thought aside. This was just Steve. Steve who took his coffee with one sugar and had a fondness for maple flavouring. Steve. Just Steve who happened to have the nicest shade of brown hair she had ever seen and the softest smile any boy could ever be given. Steve.

He smiled down at the basket in her hand, noticing it in between looking her up and down like he was studying her for something. She missed the counter that often stood between them, it gave them some distance and more importantly some boundaries, even his car had allotted them their own separate sides, not to be crossed. But this, this was like no man's land. He could stand as close to her as he wanted to. 

“Getting ready for the harvest?” 

“Uh huh.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot, anything to keep busy. Steve no longer had that Hershey's bar in his hand, instead he slipped both of his hands into the pockets of his jacket, she was secretly glad that even through the cold snap they were having, he was still sporting it. “Aren’t you?” 

Steve shook his head. Was he not going? The tradition was older than the both of them. It made perfect sense for a boy who had lived in Hawkins his whole life to go to a Hawkins town event. Didn't it? She caught his eye to try and see if he was just kidding around, but he wasn’t. He was not going. 

“Why?”  

“I’ve never gone, so I’m not going to start going now.” He screwed up his face. “It would be stupid.”

“Why?” She repeated again, not feeling quite satisfied enough with his answer. Doing stupid things even though they seemed ‘stupid’ was what made them fun. 

Steve tilted his head to the side, cocking it to the left like he was enamoured with something. “Stop saying ‘why’ like that.” She wasn’t aware she was saying it in a certain way. “You’re making me think I should go.” He picked up a bag of bright orange marshmallow pumpkins and read the back of the packet. He was going to find nothing but endless kinds of sugar in the ingredients but that's what made them so great. 

“You should.” She insisted. “And…you should get them too.” She glanced at the bag of candy still in his hand. She still didn’t know much about Steve Harrington, she knew his birthday was the twenty first of November and that he liked the colour blue, but even after their impromptu car ride, she still felt like she didn’t know enough about him, but she knew, for some godforsaken reason, that he would like the Harvest.

He liked Fall after all. He liked hot coffee and sweet treats, and that’s mostly what it was. 

“If I go, will you be there?” He leaned against the shelves, slightly awkwardly, just about realising how uncomfortable it was to lean against store shelves stocked with candy before he really committed to it. “I mean it sounds like you’d never even dream of missing it.”

There was a soft edge of sarcasm to his voice which wasn’t missed on her, and it oddly gave her a thrill. It felt like they were flirting, right here, in front of the pumpkin marshmallows. Steve had always been perfectly nice to her when he got his morning coffee, he made light conversation and often made her smile but he never flirted with her. Not like this, not so obviously. 

“You’ll have to find out.” She started to back away from the conversation, if he wanted to go he would, if he wanted to see her there, he would. She knew she’d be spending the whole weekend looking out from him in between hay bales and toffee apple stands, wouldn’t it be romantic if he was doing the same? 

“What?” His wide smile softened into a laugh. “I just go and hope we’re in the same place at the same time?” His voice rose slightly at the end of his sentence as she reached the end of the aisle, it seemed like he was stitched to the spot he was standing in, unable to just simply follow her. Maybe the swinging store door had let too much cold in and his legs had frozen, maybe it was something she did. 

“Well-” She shrugged, before spinning on her heel. “-yeah.”

I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

He couldn’t believe he had stood there in the middle of town in freezing cold weather with his hands shoved into the pockets of his denim jeans. He could’ve cursed her. Cursed her for getting him here, for making him think about caramel & fudge and warmed spiced wines. 

There had been so many October Harvests in his life, and he had managed to successfully miss every single one. But one pretty girl that smells like warm vanilla tells him in a roundabout way to go and he’s there in a heartbeat. Wearing two jackets and keeping an eye out for someone familiar for the good part of an hour. 

“So…” She handed him a cup of apple cider, with this slightly annoying, but still adorable look in her eyes. Like she had seen him wander back and forth from the pile of racked orange leaves and the displays on crave pumpkins white he waited for her, but she hadn’t, she had got there late and spent the first fifteen minutes apologising for getting stuck counting brown sugar cubes at work. “How was it?”

He rolled his eyes as they crossed the street, the night was long over now but they had been lingering for a while, watching the last of the stands be packed away, trying the last few pieces of fudge left and so on. If he was honest, he had just wanted to spend more time with her. 

He had already studied every thread in her scarf, the same plaid green and brown one from the other day. From when she had sat in his car and laughed at his jokes. He was mapping out her face now, her features were extremely to him, it was like she had become his new favourite book in the space of one night. 

“It was okay.” He shrugged, taking a sip of the heated cider enjoying the way it warmed his throat. “I liked the lights.” 

“Steve-” She lightly elbowed his side as he relished a little too much in the innocent touch and the way she said his name. Was there a way for him to ask her to say it again without it coming off as weird? Probably not. 

“What, I did!” He jumped to defend himself, knowing damn well he had only said that to get a reaction out of her. “What else do you want me to say?” He kept playing dumb, enjoying the way her nose scrunched up too much to stop. 

Suddenly he wasn’t so bothered by the cold, his chest felt too warm to mind it anymore. You could credit the apple cider but he knew it was because of her. 

“That you wished you had gone before, that you’ll never miss another town event again, that you love autumn even more now and that you can’t wait for Halloween.” Oh shit. She was cute when she rambled. “That you’re going out tomorrow to buy caramel apples and white chocolate fudge…”

“Okay, okay.” He stopped her as they came to the end of the street. She didn’t live down his block, he would’ve noticed something like that by now and before they went their own ways home he wanted to throw her a bone, even after all the teasing he made her endure. “You’re right about the fudge.” He offered softly, because it was true. He wished he had brought another bag just to keep him company on his walk home. 

She looked over her shoulder, “I’m going this way.” She sounded sad about it, and if he let himself indulge in the idea, she seemed almost melancholingly bittersweet that the night was now over. He felt especially heartbroken over the fleeting way the streetlights illuminated her face, why couldn’t they just stand here and talk until the sun came up?

“And I’m that way.” He reasoned, mostly to convince himself that he could not just stand under a street light in the middle of October all because he didn’t want the poor girl to go home without him.

She smiled as she started to back away, just like in the store a few days ago, but this time, he had this overwhelming urge to grab the end of her scarf and pull her back. “See you for coffee tomorrow morning?” Oh, definitely. She slipped her hands into her coat pockets, he hadn't conceded the cold getting to her, she seemed so ‘warm’, like it couldn’t possibly penetrate her. 

He stopped back, ducking out under the street light as invisible strings pulled them in opposite directions. There was a bone crushing feeling spreading its way through his body, he wanted to break the string and tie himself to her, god, he was screwed. 

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

Everybody wants you, but I don't like a gold rush

Steve was one of the only customers left tonight, he had started opting out of a Styrofoam take away cup lately and this evening he walked in in muddy sneakers and taken a table for two in the middle of the coffee shop.

He currently had an empty cup of coffee in front of him & a book in his hands. She would have to close soon, but he looked so right sitting there that she didn’t want to give him a five minute warning like everyone else got. Even as the bell door rang and the only other person inside left, leaving just the two of them.

She rounded the counter, leaving behind day old pastiers and a felt cake fork that still needed to be washed up. She approached his table like he was a stranger and she was coming over to ask for his number, nervous and excited all at once, feeling every small thought that passed through her mind in her bloodstream.  

His jacket was thrown over the back of his chair, it wasn’t his brown one, he had obviously swapped it out for his black Winter coat now that it was November, aka the agreed upon end of Fall. “No more Autumn jackets?” She asked while standing at his side. She was trying not to bother him, but a little conversation wouldn’t hurt and from what she had gathered most of their exchanges, he liked talking to her. He liked it a lot. 

He looked up the second he heard her voice and straightened his back from his more relaxed position. He smiled instantly, warming her chest better than any fireplace could. “No more Autumn jackets.” He repeated, shaking his head like it was the worst thing in the world (at least he understood it). 

“I already miss it.” She leaned over and took the white cup from the table, she would have to start cleaning up at some point. She could just do it little by little, until Steve was the last thing to go. “The leaves are almost all gone and overnight the sun started setting earlier and-” She cut herself off, before she fell into a sentence that would never end.  

Steve placed his book face down on the table, bending the spine to keep his page. “You can keep going, otherwise you’ll have to ask me to go home and I really don’t want you to do that.” He laughed breathily, like he was faintly nervous to admit it. 

“It might take me a while to clean this mug, coffee stains very easily and I could use someone to talk to while I do it, so maybe we could stay open a little longer. Just for my sake.” She was making up excuses when they didn’t need them, she could just ask him to stay, it wouldn’t have been that hard, would it?

“What if you sit down?” He glanced at the empty chair across from him as he relaxed his shoulders a bit more. “I’d feel less like a customer and more like a friend then.” She wished he knew he was her favourite customer, maybe then he wouldn’t mind keeping the lines unblurred so much. He had never called her his ‘friend’, and a month ago she would’ve liked to hear it, but now it kind of stung in a way it shouldn’t have. 

She liked him, more than the laws of friendship allowed and probably just like half the girls in this town did. She didn;t know Steve in high school, but she knew how much everyone wanted to know him, he had kind of fallen off peoples tongues in the last few years since he graduated, but he still seemed like he could spread gold fever through Hawkins if he wanted to. 

She slipped into the empty chair. “We’re friends?” She asked, twisting her hands in her lap as she sat at the very edge of her seat. His answer could be the push that she needed to tell him how she felt. About him, and his brown jacket. 

“Of course.” He leaned forward like if he hadn’t she wouldn’t have heard him. “You dragged me to the Harvest just a couple of nights ago and I wouldn’t have gone for a stranger, no matter how pretty she was.” His eyes flickered up and down as he softly tilted his head to the side. He was like a fluffy brown haired border collie, and she was shocked she had never noticed the resemblance before now. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head, biting her bottom lip to stop from laughing. “You just suddenly reminded me of something when you tilted your head like that." 

“Something or someone?”

“Well, it was a dog so…”

“You-” Steve shook his head, laughing in that kind of taken back way where it was unclear if he wanted to throw his book at her or lean across the table and kiss her. She prayed it was the latter. “You realise you just called me a dog right? That’s not a good thing.”

She playfully rolled her eyes, leaning forward and no longer caring about the coffee staining the cups or the frosting sticking to the forks. “I didn’t mean it like that-” Her sentence was broken off again, this time rudely interrupted by him leaning even further across the table and kissing her right in the middle of her saying something. 

He tasted like coffee, a given, and sugar cubes and all things bitter & sweet, kind of like dark chocolate. Something she would now have a new affliction for. He kissed her like he liked her, like he had thought about it before, like this wasn’t a glitch on a cold November evening, it was something that had always been coming their way. 

She was always supposed to be sitting in a coffee shop, being kissed by Steve Harrington. 

“Was that okay?” He muttered, his breath still ghosting her lips. She nodded her head, lost of words, even the most basic ones would end in a stuttered mess. “Yeah?” He asked again, double checking. 

Harry Potter -

You were a year above Harry

A familiar face

Known for your quick wit, wild sense of loyalty, and tendency to stand up for anyone being picked on, no matter the odds

You met properly one night after Quidditch practice when Harry was still learning to balance the weight of being Seeker and the Chosen One

You’d brought him hot chocolate because, as you told him, “You look like you need something warm to unfreeze that hero complex of yours”

He laughed, genuinely

Something he didn’t often do then

That was the start

You became part of the Weasley twins’ orbit, working alongside Fred and George at the joke shop

So you left with them

Using your cleverness and humor to keep up with their chaos

Harry would visit

Pretending to check on their latest pranks but really to see you

He admired how you made even exhaustion look radiant

There was comfort in your teasing, in your quiet confidence

You were one of the few who could read him

You could see when the lightning-shaped weight on his shoulders felt too heavy

You’d nudge his shoulder, grin, and say, “You’re not saving the world tonight, Potter. Sit down”

The tension built quietly

A lingering glance when you brushed glitter off his cheek after testing a new prank product

A moment when your hand lingered on his arm longer than necessary

During late-night conversations at the Burrow, when everyone else was asleep, Harry would look at you across the firelight and feel that dangerous, soft ache of wanting something normal - you

You’d joke, hide the flutter in your chest, pretend it was just friendship…

But when your laughter caught in your throat because of the way he looked at you - you knew

It came during the Battle of Hogwarts, of all times

You were helping the wounded, your hands shaking, dirt on your face

Harry found you through the smoke, pulled you into his arms, and for a moment, the war didn’t exist

You clung to each other

Trembling, crying, relief spilling from every pore

When it was finally over, he whispered your name, voice raw, “I thought I lost you”

And when your eyes met, something inside both of you just… Broke open

The kiss wasn’t perfect

It was messy, desperate, full of relief and fear and love

But it was real and it was yours

Harry is a quietly affectionate partner

He’s not showy with romance, but his love runs deep

You catch him staring sometimes, eyes soft behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you’re real

He calls you "love" or "my girl"

He keeps small tokens of you

A hair tie on his wrist, a note you scribbled, a photograph he keeps tucked in his wallet

You help him rebuild his sense of peace

Sunday mornings mean lazy breakfasts, you in one of his old Quidditch jerseys, sitting cross-legged on the counter while he makes tea

He buys you small gifts

A new book he thought you’d like, a charm bracelet

On rainy days, you stay indoors

You reading, him sprawled across your lap as you card your fingers through his hair

He’s protective in the quiet ways

A hand at your back in crowds, his eyes following you instinctively

You tease him for it, but secretly, it makes you melt

Handwritten love notes tucked in the pages of books

Lantern light flickering in the Burrow’s backyard

The smell of parchment and tea

Shared smiles across crowded rooms

The soft hum of safety, finally found

~~~

Spiderverse;

Miguel O'Hara -

You joined the Spider Society with fire in your heart and a need to prove yourself

Another Spider-Woman, fierce and capable

Miguel noticed you before you even realized he had; he’s observant like that

You were different

Not afraid to challenge him, not intimidated by his intensity

He didn't scare you

The first time you entered his office with a tray of homemade cookies and said, “Eat something before you put yourself into a coma”

He blinked at you in genuine surprise

You smirked, knowing exactly what you were doing

He was brooding, short-spoken, and impossible to read

You’d tease him to get a reaction

“You ever smile, boss? Or do your fangs cramp up when you try?”

He’d sigh

You’d grin

And over time, something changed

He started asking about your day

He started noticing when you didn’t show up for patrols

He trusted you with details about the multiverse no one else knew

You became his calm

The grounding energy in his chaos

It built like tension in a web

Subtle, taut, inevitable

The brush of your fingers when you handed him files

The way his voice softened when he said your name

You could feel the heat in his gaze

The pull of something forbidden, magnetic

He’d try to hide it, but you’d see through him

One night, when he was brooding over mission data again, you reached out and touched his hand, “You can’t save everyone, Miguel"

His eyes met yours, dark and burning, “But I can try to save you”

It wasn’t words

It was a moment

A mission gone wrong

You nearly fell to your death

He caught you, pulled you against him, his claws digging slightly into your suit as he hissed, “Don’t you ever do that again”

You smiled breathlessly, heart racing, “Awe, you were worried”

He glared, “Of course I was worried”

And then he kissed you

Sharp, desperate, like he’d been holding it in for months

Miguel is a possessive, protective lover

But never controlling

He just loves intensely

You balance him

Teasing him out of his dark moods, grounding him with laughter

You make him eat, sleep, take breaks

In return, he makes you feel like the center of his universe

His affection is physical

A hand at your jaw as he kisses your forehead

His voice murmuring in Spanish when you’re curled against him

“Mi vida, mi corazón”

You two spar together

It usually ends with him pinning you, you calling him a show-off, and him smirking before kissing you

Evenings mean quiet music, his head in your lap

He surprises you with gifts

A piece of tech he made just for you, a sleek new suit design, a music player with your favorite songs uploaded

He secretly keeps one of your old web-shooters in his drawer

You know, for scientific reasons

Dimly lit offices and neon glow

The soft hum of tech around you

Leather gloves, bruised knuckles, gentle hands

Spanish murmurs and slow-burning tension

The kind of love that feels like gravity

Pulling, unyielding, unstoppable

~~~

Disney;

Prince Edward -

Once upon a time-

Nah, I'm just kidding

You’d just moved to New York

A whirlwind of noise, neon, and the world's best coffee

One afternoon, while crossing the street, you nearly collided with a tall man in a prince charming outfit, sword and all

“My deepest apologies, fair maiden!” He exclaimed, catching your hand before you stumbled

You blinked, utterly confused

He smiled - bright, radiant - and kissed the back of your hand

That was your introduction to Prince Edward of Andalasia

He saw you as a miracle

A modern enchantment

You showed him how to use a MetroCard

How to eat pizza properly

How to dance to music that didn’t involve woodland animals

He adored your energy

Your passion

The way your laughter filled rooms

Edward, bless him, was utterly confused

He’d been convinced Giselle was his true love

But when he saw you again at the ball, helping others after his mother-dragon was defeated - his heart felt different

You weren’t singing to birds

You were comforting frightened people, helping them find safety

He looked at you, and something shifted

This was real love

Not the fairytale kind, but the human, raw, beating-heart kind

Edward found you after

The moonlight caught in his hair, his eyes soft

“When I first met you,” He said, taking your hand, “I thought my heart was already promised. But I was wrong. For it beats anew- For you"

He asked if he might court you properly, and honestly, how could you say no to that kind of sincerity?

Edward is hopelessly romantic

Expect bouquets of flowers, serenades, and him dramatically declaring his love in front of everyone

You tease him endlessly, but his joy is contagious

He calls you "my love," "darling," "dearest," "my dear," "beautiful," and "sweetheart"

Dates are extravagant

Horse rides, candlelit picnics with fairy lights, ballroom dancing

But the sweetest moments are simple

Baking cookies together, falling asleep on the couch together, his hand never leaving yours

He’s fascinated by your world

Your strength, your independence

You, in turn, adore his sincerity

He loves like a sunrise, all warmth and no hesitation

He gets you gifts that don’t quite make sense

A tiara he “commissioned,” a little heart-shaped locket

Sunlight through lace curtains

The smell of vanilla and lavender

Hands intertwined, glittering city lights, and endless declarations of love

A fairytale rewritten for two people who chose each other

(He still thinks that all the animals have the power to talk to him)

You both do visit his kingdom of Andalasia

Obviously because he's a king now

And you're his queen

The bass was thumping through your fingertips, your pulse racing. You felt the floor rattling under your feet as you swayed back and forth with Steve. He spun you around a few times, admiring you silently. 

The bar you were at had become a Saturday night tradition. You, Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan drove to “The Disco Rodeo” in Indianapolis every Saturday to dance, drink, and pretend to forget about the blandness of Hawkins. The guys usually wore cowboy hats, and the girls wore go-go boots.

Steve’s birthday was no different, except you decided to wear a dress that hugged your curves a little TOO much for Steve to pay attention to anything else. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

“Princess, be careful,” he whispered as he pulled you to his chest. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“No ‘m okay Stevie,” you smiled, buzzed and squinting.

You danced for what felt like forever. You were in heaven, or the closest thing to it. Nancy and Jonathan were sitting in a booth, laughing at the sight in front of them. 

“Ten bucks says he’s gonna have to drag her out of here,” quipped Jonathan.

“Better make it twenty,” Nancy pointed, “She’s still on both feet!”

Steve stopped drinking a while ago, too preoccupied with you. You started grinding, shaking, and touching all over him. Steve started to believe he was in heaven too. 

You pressed your back against his chest, feeling something poking the small of your back. “Stevie?” you hummed, turning to face him, “you okay, baby?”

You glanced down, and he lifted your head with his finger. “I’m perfect, princess, just looking at my girl. Spin around for me a few more times, baby.”

He held your hand as you spun, the buzzing in your ears getting drowned out by the bartender yelling for last call. Steve wrapped his hands around your waist, drawing you closer to his hips. “We should get out of here, sweetheart; let’s go find our friends.”

“Let’s go, lovebirds!” Robin exclaimed, holding the car door open.

“No nasty stuff or else!” Jonathan said as he got in the driver’s seat. Steve blushed, climbing in the back, pulling you onto his lap

The ride back to Hawkins was rather uneventful. Nancy and Jonathan chatted quietly in the front while Robin slept against the back seat window. You had the pleasure of sitting on your boyfriend’s lap, you thought.

“Did ya have a good birthday, Stevie?” you hummed, leaning back against his chest, glancing up at him. “It was perfect, my love. But it’ll be even better when we get home.” Steve felt like Jonathan was purposely hitting every bump in the road, sending you bouncing away on his lap the whole ride. Steve’s hands slid around your waist, trying to steady you. “Baby… you’ve gotta stop moving. You’re killing me here.” Steve grunted.

You looked up at him for a moment, then back down to your lap, and let out a small giggle.

“I don’t know what you mean...” you trailed off, feigning innocence.

The car rolled to a stop in front of your apartment, and you climbed out of the cabin slowly, your dress riding up around your waist. “Goodnight, guys; get home safe!” Steve rushed out, grabbing your hand and pulling you up the steps before you even had a chance to say your farewells.  

“Stevie, slow down! I promise that the bed is still gonna be there; you don’t have to run!” you exclaimed.

 Steve hurriedly unlocked the door, pulling you inside and slamming it. You jumped, looking up at him as he backed you against it. He sets his cowboy hat on the ground, pressing his forehead against yours. “You, my love, are such a tease, you know that?” he hummed as he started kissing down your neck. “Dancing all on me, in front of everyone… knowing I wasn’t gonna do anything about it…” he trailed off, sucking a spot under your collarbone. “Stevie,” you moaned, sliding your fingers through his hair, “ -was just trying to make your birthday special, baby.” You could feel the wetness pooling between your thighs, squeezing them together. Steve slid his arms around your waist, sliding you up the door, pushing your thighs around his waist. “You get me so hard, baby. I love watching my girl dance.” He kissed down your arm, marking spots all over.

“I’m gonna devour you.” He picked you up, carrying you to the couch. As he kneeled between your thighs, he smirked, “Are you gonna be a good girl for me, baby?”

You whined and nodded, “Let me help you, Stevie; it’s your birthday.” You started to get up, Steve’s strong arms pushing you back down.

Steve started kissing your thighs, taking his time working towards your core. “This is the best present a man could ask for, Y/N.”

Once his kisses made it close to your center, he blew on your soaked panties. Steve was fully entranced at the sight in front of him. His beautiful girl turned into a mess, ready to devour.

He rubbed small circles on your clit through your panties, kissing your legs softly. “You ready for me, baby?” he smirked. “You’re soaked.”

You nodded slowly. “Please, Stevie, I need you.” Steve rubbed through your panties a few more times before sliding them off, crumpling them up, and shoving them in his pocket. “There’s my pretty cunt.” He pushed your thighs further apart and said, "Look, baby, she's winking at me." He licked a small stripe up your core, eliciting small moans from you. “My pretty little tease, this cunt belongs to me.”