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apomaro-mellow · 8 months

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Wrong Number 1

Eddie kept up a texting chain with Steve while making himself a breakfast of coffee and cereal. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since, well, when he thought of it when he was a teenager up all night in chat rooms and forums. When you found someone who you just clicked with.

[11:30] Any advice on how to fry an egg with a perfectly runny yolk?

(11:32) You like runny yolks??? 🤢 (11:33) It's scrambled or nothing for me (11:33) Cant help ya even if I wanted to

[11:35] I just want an egg on my avo toast

Normally Robin fried the eggs for breakfast. Her yolks were always perfect. But unlike Steve, she'd actually scored last night and was still with whoever she'd gone home with last night.

Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cliche. A guy who jogged and then came back home for some avocado toast with an egg on top? He just had to let his stance be known.

(11:35) Next ur gonna tell me bout your acai smoothie bowl rite? (11:36) Avo toast? Really???

Steve realized how he was coming off and had to quickly amend it.

[11:38] It's not what you think! We only got the avocados to make some guac the other day. There was one left and I wanted to use it before it went bad. And I'm all guac'd out. Hence the toast.

(11:39) At least you didn't use the avocado to make like ice cream or some shit

Finished with his own, normal, regular, average citizen breakfast, Eddie cleared his place and started to actually get ready for the day. His shift went from 2 to 10 tonight, so he needed to prepare for the long haul.

While brushing his teeth, getting dressed, and making something for his lunch later, he and Steve kept up the texts. Through their conversation he found out Steve's favorite ice cream (peanut butter), that he could cook eggs just about any way except sunny side up, and that he lived with a roommate named Robin.

Eddie got to his place of work and in a place like that you need to have some semblance of focus and attention, so he told Steve he had to get to work. He realized he was basically saying 'busy now, text you later?' to a stranger he'd only started talking to last night. Steve was completely in his rights to end the conversation there.

He could've ended it at any time really. What obligation did he have to keep on talking to him?

[2:01] Okay. Talk to you later

Steve stared at the message, already in the middle of agonizing over it when Robin finally came through the door of their apartment.

"Good afternoon. I wanna feel offended that I didn't get any texts or calls asking if I'm okay but I'm gonna choose to think it means you trust me and are a great judge of character."

For the first time in a while, Steve checked the time and actually realized how long it had been.

"Shit, Robs, I'm sorry." It had been over 12 hours and he hadn't checked in on her. All because he'd been texting a random number. "So you had a good time?"

Steve had been sitting on the couch and Robin plopped right down, laying her head in his lap.

"It was magical. Like something out of a movie."

"Aren't you glad I made you go and talk to her?", Steve smiled smug.

Robin smushed his face with her hands with a groan. "Don't look at me like that. You were right, okay? Me and her hit it off like, like uh, one of your sports metaphors."

"Robin you were in a soccer league just last year, stop acting like you don't know sports."

"Anyway, something grand must've kept your attention off me. Things go well with that girl you were talking to?"

"Umm, yeah."

Robin sat up, eyes narrowing. "And you came back here with her? Gross! Steve! Did you do it on the couch?!" She shot up immediately.

"I didn't", Steve rolled his eyes.

It was one of their main rules. No sex in the common areas of the apartment. Steve wasn't gonna tell her about the wrong number given to him. And he especially wasn't going to tell her he kept talking to it. The following lecture would have been unbearable.

"She gave me her number and we've just been texting back and forth."

Robin slowly sat back down on the couch. "Just texting? That's all you did?"

"That's all."

"Wow. You usually move faster than that."

"Well, I want something a little more this time. But enough about my snail pace romance. Let's talk about you and that girl, what was her name?"

He and Robin sat a long while, talking about her night, eventually going out for lunch together too. Not-Misty had said they were at work, but Steve couldn't help himself when he saw that Robin had ordered a burger with avocado on it and Steve had gotten a taco salad that came with, you guessed it, avocado.

[3:14] image.jpeg [314] Okay me and Robin might have a problem. But I swear it's not on purpose!

"Did you just send a picture of our lunch to someone?", Robin asked.

"Yeah to uh, to Misty. We were talking about avocados earlier and I figured she'd get a kick out of it."

Robin smiled through her chewing. She teased but she was glad that her friend had made a connection last night.

Meanwhile, Eddie saw the message, but didn't have a chance to reply, even on his lunch break. Through all the texting, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so it was on the plug and he was leaving it alone for now while he talked to his co-worker, Grant. He went through the rest of his shift, thinking about Steve.

What did he look like? How old was he? Where did he live?

He got off and made his way back home, stopping off somewhere to get dinner. It was a sandwich shop and he honestly contemplated getting avocado on his just to see Steve's reaction but he resisted.

'I can't be that down bad that I'm overthinking food now', he thought to himself.

When he got back home, he turned the tv on and took out his phone to reply to Steve right away.

(10:31) Back at home now (10:32) Work was crazy (10:34) And the 1st step to recovery is admitting u have a problem (10:36) But thru hard work we can get you addicted to a sensible veggie (10:37) Like broccoli

He thought since he kept Steve waiting for so long it might take some time for a reply to come, but his phone pinged almost immediately.

[10:39] First of all, avocado is a fruit. Second, I eat plenty of other vegetables. And third, what happened at work?

(10:41) It may be a fruit but I dont want it in my smoothie (10:42) And some guy came in and started throwing axes at the wall

Sunday evenings were usually more relaxed. It was why Eddie typically didn't work Friday or Saturday nights unless he needed some extra cash or they needed someone on deck.

[10:44] Hold the duck up someone was throwing axes!! [10:44] *duck [10:45] *FUCK

Eddie snickered through his eating and had to take a moment to swallow before something came up. He always enjoyed telling people what he did for a living.

(10:46) Cool your jets man (10:47) I work at an axe throwing range (10:48) The problem with this dude was he didn't have an appointment (10:48) Just came in and started throwing an axe at the wall

[10:50] Are you okay? That sounds dangerous

(10:50) My uncle handled it (10:51) Eventually the dude left

[10:52] Oh wow. Well I'm glad you're okay. Axe throwing tho. What an interesting job for someone of your age? 🤷

Steve was lying in bed and he buried his face into his pillow as he sent it with the shrug emoji. It was so transparent, he knew it. But he needed to have a better idea of who he was talking to. That way when Robin did eventually find out, he'd be able to tell her something, anything.

(10:53) Smooth (10:53) I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours

Eddie knew now was the time to be cautious. But he was also curious as to how much Steve would tell him and just what he wanted to know. He wasn't disappointed.

[10:54] Male, 23, 5'11

It was like the bare minimum of information and yet Eddie was already aggressively tamping down any hope that he might have a chance. Without his permission, hope bubbled up anyway

(10:55) Male, 24 going on 25, also 5'11

Steve stared at the text with the mystery person, mystery man's information. It seemed like so little and yet so much. He still hadn't an idea of what he looked like. But now he could at least get a general silhouette.

(10:56) Ur not one of those guys who lies about his height are you?

[10:57] Robin says my hair gives me two inches but she has no idea what she's talking about.

Eddie was thinking about how Steve must wear his hair. It could be in a sizeable pompadour, or maybe a nice afro. Maybe it was in a bun all the time? That was not what he typed out however.

(10:59) You know what they say (10:59) It's not the size but what u do with it

Okay this was it. This was where Steve stopped texting him. You can't just say that to guys you don't know-ping!

Eddie bit his lip and only had one eye open as he looked at Steve reply, preparing for the worst.

[11:01] Oh I know how to use my inches

Eddie dropped his phone onto the table and had to get up and pace, touch his face, his hair, throwing his hands in the air. Was this flirting? This felt like flirting. He wished he knew for sure. Maybe it was the lack of emoji. Had Steve put a winking face, he'd know for certain. Eddie leaned against his fridge, staring at his phone, sitting innocently on the table.

On the other side, Steve was burying his face into his pillow, pretending he didn't just say that. Would it come off as playful? As flirty? As casual? Should he have sent a wink? The seconds ticked and it felt too late. Like coughing after saying something awkward.

God, he was so desperate. Why was he even still texting? He had work in the morning. He should start preparing for bed so he had any hope of getting up on time. Steve pushed off the bed and went to his closet when he heard the notification sound and instantly returned.

(11:05) Let's get out the measuring tape (11:05) image.jpeg

Steve felt his heart skip a beat. The picture attached was of the very top of mystery man's head. He was holding up a lock of long, curly hair into the air. Steve studied the picture like he was getting paid to do it. He couldn't see any lower than the bangs on his forehead but there was still plenty to see.

The rings on his fingers for one, how his curls went this way and that. Steve quickly saved it and then replied with a similar pose, holding some hair by the fingers as far as it would go above his head.

[11:07] image.jpeg [11:08] I think you have me beat

They texted for about an hour more before Steve finally decided to be an adult and put himself to sleep, bidding mystery man good night.

Part 3

Fun fact, years ago I worked at an axe throwing place and yes, what happened to Eddie did in fact happen to me! On like my first week too I think

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @lolawonsstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @420-hun @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #i can honestly say i didn't expect the response to this #u cant predict the stocks! i guess LOL #fun fact this was nearly an abo fic as well #but i decided against it this time around #bc i have other aus that'll probably be abo

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talesofesther · 2 years

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cross my heart (and hope to die)

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Every time Steve gets hurt, you're there to help pick up the pieces; you just weren't expecting him to fall for you in the process.

A/N: Steve my beloved <3. Hope you guys like this one, it started as one thing and took a massive turn as I was writing it, anyway, I think it turned out good? Let me know. Any flashbacks are in italics.

Word count: 8,9k

Masterlist

Hospital hallways had a knack for looking and feeling like the perfect setting for a horror movie, especially on nights like these, where said hallways were mostly empty. It was a good thing, for a hospital not to be crowded, but with the cold air, the white walls and tiles, the lonely chairs beside the snack machine, and the only company in sight being the receptionist; your skin was constantly crawling with goosebumps.

Your sneakers were scratching against the recently mopped floor, the pungent smell of disinfectant made you scrunch your nose. It was a bit of a sight, your jeans and red flannel under the white doctor's coat your mother insisted you wore. That's probably why you hardly told people about it.

In your hands, you held two patient records, one for the kid who annoyed the hell out of you, and the other for the old woman who told you all about her cactuses and succulents. As you reached the receptionist's counter, you slid the two papers over to the older woman, who was stacking a few files of her own. "Hey Claire, these are from the ones who got out today."

"Thank you Y/N, tell your mother to come to see me before she leaves okay?"

"Will do." You tapped the counter and were about to turn and leave when the main glass doors were pushed open.

You were greeted with a sight you weren't expecting to see today; Steve Harrington walking through the hospital doors, the bright artificial lights illuminating his beat-up face. One of his eyes was swollen and there was a good amount of blood on his cheek, lips, and nose, his knuckles were bruised as well and he walked with hunched shoulders. You never expected to see Steve trying to make himself look smaller.

And you must be looking at him with quite the face because from one glance at you he quickly averted his eyes, fumbling with the zipper on his jacket as he reached the counter.

You cursed under your breath for your lack of manners, and awkwardly hovered by the end of the counter. Why you stayed? You couldn't tell.

Steve and you weren't friends, maybe it would be a stretch to even say you were colleagues. You shared a few classes with him, had been put together in some group projects but that was about it. He had been enough of a douche lately for you to not pay much attention, or, at least he walked with the kind of people that were massive douches back at school.

Carefully laying his hands on top of the counter, Steve leaned forward, licking his lips before he addressed Claire. "Hi, I was- I was kind of hoping to get this looked at." He vaguely gestured to his face.

Claire looked at him from over her glasses, a frown on her lips from a lifetime of dealing with teenage drama. She nodded, and made quick work of making a patient record for him.

It took maybe a minute, but the silence that engulfed the reception hall of the hospital was heavily awkward. Claire wrote calmly with her pen, you found the stain on your sneakers to be really interesting all of a sudden, and Steve was shuffling in his stance, his fingers tapping the counter in an unsteady rhythm.

"Y/N, will you please?" Claire's voice made you snap your gaze up to her. She was handing you his new record.

"Sure." You nodded, already knowing the routine. You took the paper and forced your gaze to meet the one from the boy next to you.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Follow me."

The room she assigned to Steve was a bit of a walk, and he followed you through the hospital hallways in silence for about twenty seconds.

"I didn't know you worked at a hospital."

You knew it was coming, you saw the curiosity swimming in his eyes. Your lips quirked up slightly. "I volunteer. My mom works here."

Steve's lips parted in a silent 'oh', he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket and walked faster to fall into step beside you. "That's cool."

"I guess, for the most part, it is." You fumbled with the paper in your hands, feeling his eyes on your profile.

"Do you also help in surgeries and stuff?"

You chuckled, "no, I don't. I help with the more simple stuff… Uh- organizing materials, checking in on patients, keeping company, taking them to their rooms." You glanced at him with a smile. Tentative, only to see what kind of person you had in your hands.

And when you were met with a chuckle and a smile of his own, you figured he was more approachable when alone.

Just before reaching the room assigned to him, you passed by a snack machine. Steve's face lit up in a way that reminded you of the little kids you're always escorting around, one hand already fishing for his wallet. "Can I?" He pointed a finger at the old thing.

"Yeah, go ahead." You shrugged, leaning against the wall while he picked what to eat. You selfishly allowed yourself to look at him then. It was no secret that he was handsome, the fact that most of your friends were swooning over him was proof enough, but there was something different about seeing him here and now; alone in a hospital hallway with blood staining his shirt and a gash on his lip that reopened when he smiled as his snack fell from the machine.

He hummed when he took the first bite, closing his eyes momentarily. "You want one too?" He asked with a full mouth.

Your eyebrows shot up at his offer, you almost took too long to answer. "Uh no, I'm good."

The room you took him to was one of the smaller ones, with just one bed, but it had a window and a TV, so that was a plus for him. After telling Steve he could sit on the bed to wait for a proper doctor, you couldn't help but ask; "what happened to you?"

Steve's expression fell, he scoffed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Isn't it obvious?"

Technically, it was. Someone beat him up. But who would dare to beat up the king of Hawkins High?

A lone droplet of blood escaped his nose, he was quick to wipe it away with the sleeve of his jacket. "I did something stupid, or at least didn't stop it from happening, and got what I deserved I guess."

You tilted your head with a frown, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you looked at him. "Why'd you do it, the stupid thing?"

"I was angry, and hurt… There's this girl and I…" He sighed, shaking his head. His legs swung back and forth while he picked at the white sheets. "It's stupid."

You would agree, if you two were closer. You would tell him that it's not worth it and he will only end up hurt. You had seen Steve and Nancy Wheeler being cozy together in school earlier this week; you also saw her running off with Jonathan earlier today. It was easy to guess.

"For what's worth," you set his record on the clip at the foot of his bed, "I think she'll come around." Walking backwards to the door you gave him a wink. "And you'll be okay, wounds like that tend to heal pretty fast."

Steve had a lazy smile on his lips, a look in his eyes you couldn't figure out. "Yeah? You promise?"

With one hand on the doorknob, you gave him a cheeky smile of your own. "Cross my heart," you traced an 'x' over your heart, "and hope to die." Your voice held an overly dramatic tone for a promise you didn't believe in. But for some reason, you wanted him to believe it. You wanted him to believe in a reality where hearts didn't get broken and stomped over.

And Steve chuckled again just before you left his room. The somber expression he walked in with was gone, in its place laid newfound hope, and while fragile, it was there.

______

After your encounter with Steve at the hospital, he surprised you by seeking you out at school. You shared a good amount of classes, and given that he stopped being friends with Tommy and Carol overnight, it was only natural for him to stick with you. You were well on your way to call each other friends. He became a constant part of your day over the last months.

And now, on Halloween night, part of you regretted giving him hope with that one promise. Gossip moved fast on a house filled with teens, a whispered comment here, a mocking laugh there, and soon everyone was aware that Nancy dumped Steve.

It was ugly, and that's why you avoided places like these, but someone convinced you to attend this one party;

"So, what are you going as?" Steve asked as he stuffed his books inside his backpack. He sat beside you, as he usually did nowadays.

The classroom was slowly emptying as you got up from your chair, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"Tina's Halloween party, what are you going as?"

You scoffed. As if. "I'm not going to that."

You made to walk past him, but he got up and took hold of your backpack, forcing you to halt on your steps.

"What do you mean you're not going? Of course you're going."

Why he wanted you there so much was beyond you, he had Nancy for christ's sake. You sighed, giving up on trying to brush through the conversation like you'd been doing for the whole week. "Why would I go there? To drink cheap beer in a house full of sweaty and handsy people?"

Steve's hand landed on your elbow, a gentle touch that you were well too aware of. "To have fun, I mean, do you ever get out?"

Your face scrunched up as if he'd insulted you. "I go out."

"Hospital work and school don't count."

You slapped his hand away with a chuckle, ducking your head and walking to the door because the teacher was already giving you a side eye for still being in the empty classroom. "I go out, okay pretty boy? I'm just not a fan of those types of… parties."

Steve fell into step beside you, it was strange how normal it was becoming to have his shoulder bumping into yours as you walked, how his presence became something you missed when he wasn't around. "I know but, it's our last chance at those, right? It'll be fun, just this once. I'll pick up Nance and, if you want, we can pass by your house too."

No one could convince you to go, no one ever did, because you really didn't like going to high school parties. But he managed, maybe it was the crinkle in his eyes when he smiled, or the way his hair fell over his forehead as he skipped in front of you.

"Why do you want me there so badly?" You dared to ask, leaning your back against the brick wall of the school's hallway.

Steve's lips hovered open for a moment in dangerous silence, before he shrugged and averted his gaze. "I just want you to have fun."

"Okay. But I'm not dressing up as anything."

Steve walked out of the bathroom with a tightness on his chest that went all the way up to his throat and made it hard to breathe. Bullshit. Maybe she was right, but it didn't stop the hurting.

He was searching for you amongst the crowd before he even realized it. The party was still going full force, loud music now annoying to his ears as he squeezed his way between the drunk students.

Everyone was looking at him, girls whispering in each other's ears as he walked by. Steve put his sunglasses back on, he knew there were tears pooling on the bottom lid of his eyes and he'd be damned if anyone saw it.

You found him before he found you. He felt your reassuring touch on his black blazer and he knew it was you before he even saw you. He didn't allow himself to think about it.

"Hey," you closed a hand around his wrist, taking his hand felt way too intimate, "you okay?"

It was a dumb question and you cursed yourself for asking it. Comforting people was definitely not your expertise.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, his fingers grasping the ends of it as he sighed.

"Why don't we get out of here? I could use some fresh air." You suggested, because Steve looked like a lost puppy right now, everyone was doing a poor job of pretending not to look at him and you saw Nancy going off with Jonathan just a minute ago.

"Yeah, you're right." Steve hated how his voice broke, but he was so damn grateful that you were there; otherwise, he'd be on his own, and that's the last thing he wanted right now. You guided him to the door and out the house, the cold air outside was welcoming.

The door closed behind you, muffling the music coming from inside the house. There were a few people hanging out on the lawn, but not nearly as much.

Steve stumbled his way to the sidewalk, he took off his glasses and let them fall on the grass. "I'm guessing you already heard about it."

You'd never heard him sound so defeated. He had a hand over his eyes, breathing erratic. You wondered if this was his first heartbreak. "Yeah, I think everyone did."

When he didn't answer, you crouched down to pick up his sunglasses, putting them on top of your head as you walked beside him with a hand extended to him. "Give me your keys."

Steve wiped his eyes before looking at you with a frown. "What?"

And damn him and those big, sad, and gentle eyes of his. "We're getting out of here, come on." You wiggled your fingers, not giving him much room for argument.

Part of you knew it was a dangerous game to play. Caring about him could end badly for your side, and it's not like you were eager to get hurt. But you knew Steve enough to know that he had no one; absent parents, no more asshole friends, and now, no Nancy. It hit you like a ton of bricks that maybe, you were the only person he had left.

You figured that as long as you keep any rogue feelings in control, you'd be fine.

Famous last words.

Despite better judgment, you got into his car with him on the passenger's seat and drove to a place you liked to call peaceful — not before stopping at a convenience store and picking up a cheap bottle of wine.

The playground was deserted at this time of night; thanks to a clear sky, the moon provided some light, along with the street lamps. The place stood on a patch of grass, surrounded by a few trees, and given that it was a little way up, it gave you a good view of a part of Hawkins.

You sat down on one of the swings and waited for Steve to join you. Wine bottle in one hand as the other held onto the rusty chain.

"A playground?" Steve asked, sitting down on the swing beside yours.

You pushed yourself back and forth with your feet, turning your head up to look at the blanket of stars above you. "Mhmm." You hummed. "It can be pretty peaceful without annoying kids running around."

Steve chuckled, and you took it as a win already. He copied your movements, swinging himself lazily. His mind was cluttered, but if it wasn't, he'd know you were right.

Crickets were singing tonight, along with the creaking of the moving swings and the wind rustling leaves from time to time. In front of you, Hawkins was nothing but patches of light in the distance.

Popping open the bottle, you took a sip before passing it to Steve, alcohol burning on your tongue.

He drank it eagerly, taking about three big gulps of the wine.

"Easy there, dude," you giggled, snatching the bottle from him and setting it beside you.

"You come here often?" Steve asked quietly, eyes fixed ahead of him.

"That sounds like a horrible pick-up line." You teased, leaning your head towards him.

Steve felt his cheeks burning, he was glad for the lack of lighting. "I wasn't-"

"I know what you meant," you smiled, averting your gaze from him, "don't worry."

Gripping tighter onto the chain that held up his swing, Steve mumbled; "right."

"I usually come here to relax, or when I have too much on my mind," you glanced down, the tip of your sneakers brushing over the grass, "like I said, it… feels peaceful sometimes."

Steve nodded, pursing his lips. For a long moment he was quiet, and then;

"I think she doesn't love me anymore."

You turned to him slowly. The pain was evident in his voice, eyes downcast and you saw the outline of his lower lip trembling. You wanted to reach out, but didn't.

"I'm starting to think that… maybe she never did love me." He shrugged, trying to play off his pain.

"Don't say that." You uttered.

There was a lump on his throat that Steve gulped down, his knuckles going white around the chains. His words turned to a whisper because if he spoke louder, he'd break. "I think she was mad about what happened to Barbara but…" He sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand, "whatever, I'll just- just try to make things right I guess."

You frowned at that, it's not like you could do much with the crumbs of information he gave you, but it didn't feel like he should be the one saying sorry. Not the only one at least.

Turns out Steve was more observant than you thought. "You don't think I should do it." He noted, after his gaze landed on you.

You squirmed in your seat, moving your hands up on the chain and giving your body a swing. "I- I think that sometimes… love is not worth the risk." You chanced a look at him, "but that's just me, okay?" You were quick to add. "I think you should do what your heart tells you. What feels right, you know?"

Picking up the bottle of wine, you took a bigger sip this time. Letting the burn of the alcohol wash away the bitter taste of your words.

You passed it to Steve, and when his fingers closed around the bottle, they grazed yours. "Thank you, for being here and all."

Bumping his shoes with yours, you said; "anytime." And you surprised yourself by meaning it.

______

It was odd enough to see Steve walking through the hospital doors with a bloody face once, and you weren't expecting it to happen a second time. But it did.

You were about to go home for the night when you saw his red BMW being parked in the hospital's parking lot. The glass doors shut behind you with a click and you took a couple of steps forward with a frown on your face. Dark clouds, bringing rain most likely, loomed above you in the night sky.

It was dark out, only a few lamps from the parking lot providing light, but you saw Steve stepping out of his car with a bit of difficulty and heaviness to his movements.

He smiled when he saw you standing in front of those doors, the bright interior of the hospital's reception outlining your silhouette, making his sore feet work and carry him to you. If he was being completely honest with himself, it wasn't his plan to come to the hospital, not after the exhausting night he just had. But his hands on the wheel subconsciously turned the street to where he knew you would be.

Steve stopped in front of you, cheeks scraped and beaten, blood smudged under his nose, and bruises already forming under the floral bandaid he had on his forehead. You raised your arms halfway with an incredulous look on your face, "what the hell Harrington? You're even worse than last time."

It wasn't fair for you to be attractive while scolding him. He chuckled, the motion making his probably fractured nose sting. "You can thank Hargrove for that."

The fatigue from the last days was finally catching up with Steve, he closed his eyes with a shaky sigh, feeling as if he was about to pass out; and he must have looked the part too, because the next thing he felt was your hands holding him up and guiding him inside the hospital.

You didn't bother with stopping in the reception to grab him a record, you could worry about that later. Now, you guided him to the closest room available, worry bubbling in your stomach.

"I knew that guy was trouble from the moment he showed up," you grumbled, helping Steve to sit up on the hospital bed, "but why did he… do this to you?" One of your hands remained on his elbow, the other hovering over his bruised cheek as you stood in front of him.

Steve shook his head dismissively, "it's a long story." He couldn't pull his gaze away from you, he wanted to smooth the crease of your eyebrows with his thumb.

You didn't press him into telling you, your fingers brushed over his arm and down to his hand. When your skin touched his, you pulled away. "I'll call a doctor for you." You told him quietly.

Goosebumps erupted on Steve's body, and the thought of you leaving was suddenly unbearable. "You could do it too though, right?"

You turned back to him with a raised eyebrow.

"I mean, it's simple enough?" His hands gripped the edge of the bed as he spoke.

The hospital room was quiet, you could hear the first droplets of rain hitting the roof and then the window behind Steve.

It's just your job, right? It doesn't have to mean anything.

"Sure, I can tidy you up." You walked back to him with a small smile on your lips, opening up the cabinet beside his bed to pick up gauze and antiseptics. "but then I'm calling a doctor to check up on you," when Steve opened his mouth to complain, you added; "no buts."

Raising your hands to the bandaid on his forehead, you asked; "may I?"

Steve could only nod. This is the closest he's ever been to you, and he never noticed how you had tiny freckles over your nose, or how pretty were the bright specks of color on your eyes. He held onto his breath until you removed the bandaid and pulled away from him.

Soaking a gauze with antiseptic, you raised a hand to Steve's hair and held it away from the bruise on his forehead while you cleaned it. The brown strands were soft under your touch, you wanted to run your fingers through them.

"Have you worked things out with Nancy?" You asked out of curiosity, mostly.

Steve averted his gaze from you, squirming on his seat until you mumbled a "stay still" for him. "Sort of, yeah." He sighed. "We uh- we're not together anymore."

You stopped your work to look at him properly.

Heart probably ripped in half, hair messier than ever, dark circles under his eyes, crimson red blood taking up most of his skin as a telltale of what you could only imagine was a reckless act of courage, and still, he held onto a tiny smile for you. The affection you developed for him made your heart thunder and bleed.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," he was quick to ease your worries, his eyes glistening under the artificial lights, "really, it's… it's better this way."

The once white gauze on your hand had now a pink color to it, you threw it aside and picked a new one. Busying yourself longer than necessary with the bottle of antiseptic, you said; "you deserve someone who loves and cares about you the same way you do for them, Steve."

You chanced a quick glance at his eyes, biting the inside of your cheek when you found him looking back at you. Clearing your throat, you took hold of his jaw and cleaned the blood under his nose.

You felt the way his cheeks moved under your touch when he smiled, felt the way he played and tugged at the ends of your jacket, keeping you there with him.

And you could worry about the butterflies in your stomach later. For now, all you cared about was patching him up and making sure to ease his pain, if not emotional, at least physical.

______

In the months that followed, you and Steve grew even closer, being each other's only constant in life. You two were attached to the hip to the point where in the last weeks of school, your friends had to get used to the fact that, wherever one went, the other followed.

But things shifted once you graduated and the safety blanket of going to school — of having that excuse to always be with him — was taken away.

And it's not like you were avoiding Steve, not at all. It was only natural that, after you both graduated, you'd see each other a little less.

He found a job at the new mall, and you were taking a few extra shifts helping out at the hospital. And that was all there was to it.

Sometimes, Steve called you and asked if you wanted to spend some time by the playground after the sun was down.

Every few days, you stopped by at Starcourt to see him.

You saw each other less — going from being together practically every day, to now only two or three times a week — certainly not for lack of trying on Steve's part. But the routine was safe.

Last night, he bought a bottle of wine for you to share at the playground. He made you laugh as he pushed you on the swing and you made him sing loudly with you over the radio on the way back to your home. And before you could exit his car, he took your hand;

The skin of his hand against yours was softer than you thought it'd be, a bit calloused, but still soft. You were closing your fingers around his before you could think it through.

"I was thinking, maybe you could stop by the mall tomorrow?" Steve asked, his voice shy in a way that you hadn't heard yet. His eyes were focused on your hands over the center console.

He didn't leave much room for you to answer before continuing; "I'll be working but, we could grab some ice cream on my break. You know, hang out, or whatever." He shook his head as if it was no big deal. His bumping knee and white knuckles around the wheel told otherwise.

You didn't do dates, you didn't like the idea of letting people close enough to ask you on them. Steve should know that too, he's had his heart broken too.

But he never said it would be a date. "Ice cream does sound tempting," you mused with a smile.

"It's the best in town." Steve teased, looking up at you the same way he did when you first got into his car tonight. If you didn't know better, you'd call it love.

You chuckled, incapable of saying no even if you wanted to. "Yeah, okay."

"Really?" His eyebrows shot up, the grip he had on your hand squeezing lightly.

"Cross my heart for you, pretty boy."

In some sense, Starcourt felt like its own little world. The atmosphere changed once you walked through those doors. Bright colors and even brighter neon signs for a multitude of stores, plus the overwhelming crowd were quite the contrast with the rest of Hawkins.

Scoops Ahoy was easier on the eyes, particularly because of the boy with the dorky sailor outfit behind the counter.

Early weekdays were slow, Steve was leaning over the counter, mindlessly flipping through a magazine while twirling his hat with the other hand.

"Hey, sailor." You smirked.

He beamed when he saw you, throwing the magazine to the side promptly. "Hey, you came."

You frowned, faking offense and leaning both your hands on the counter. "Of course I did, I love ice cream."

"Ouch," Steve mumbled with the ghost of a smile. "I have my break in about ten minutes, if you wanna pick a table." His gaze moved around the parlor, with only you and him, and an elderly couple sharing a bowl of ice cream on one of the tables.

With a nod, your lips titled up in a smile that was reserved for him only, "surprise me." You glanced at the many ice cream flavors beside him and walked away to find a table.

"Is that the girl you've been talking my ear off about?"

Robin's sudden voice just about made Steve jump out of his skin. He put a hand over his racing heart whilst the other clutched his sailor's hat, shooting a worried look in your direction to make sure you didn't hear it. "Jesus Buckley, keep it down will you?"

Raising her hands in mock surrender, Robin chuckled; "sorry loverboy, you were practically eating her with your eyes, so I assumed-"

"Was not," Steve grumbled.

"-that she was the 'beautiful girl who helps at the hospital and cared for me once and now I'm head over heels in love with her'." Robin finished with a smug grin, leaning back on the wall behind her.

If Steve's frown was anything to go by, he was not amused. "You done?" He had an evident blush on his cheeks as he avoided Robin's stare and tossed aside his hat, picking up two bowls for the ice cream.

Robin chuckled, "hey I didn't mean it as something bad, for what's worth, I think she might like you too."

Just the thought of it made Steve's heart do somersaults inside his chest. He pursed his lips, twirling his scoop on his hand.

"You should ask her out on a proper date," Robin suggested.

Steve shook his head, looking down at the ice cream flavors in front of him as if they'd have an answer for his feelings. "It's not that simple, she's… she's different. We're different. I don't wanna mess it up." He sighed, voice losing its volume as he spoke. Robin had never heard him sound so insecure.

Six minutes after you sat down at the table by the wall, an ice cream bowl was set in front of you, with your favorite flavor.

You looked up at Steve with a smile already on your lips.

He smirked back. Blue, white and red complimenting his features. Of course he could put on a sailor's uniform and look handsome in it. He sat down in front of you, with a bowl of ice cream of his own in his hands.

"You remembered," you said quietly, nose scrunching because of your smile. You picked up the spoon and took a bite of the cold dessert.

Steve pushed back his hair, a nervous habit of his that he was doing more and more whenever he was with you. "Of course I did."

Talking with Steve was easy; and there wasn't a day where he couldn't pull a smile out of you, as miserable as you might be, he made you happy. And every time, in the few minutes just before you walked out your door, knowing that he would be there, outside waiting for you, your stomach would flutter and your skin would feel hot, even more so after he touched you.

It should have been obvious, and maybe you already knew it deep down, only not wanting to admit it to yourself just yet; for fear, because you knew things would change once you did.

But now, as you talked about nothing and everything; as Steve's fingers intertwined with yours over the table, slightly sticky because of the ice cream; as he averted his eyes with the most adorable pink tint to his cheeks, and asked shyly if you'd, maybe, give him the chance to take you out on a proper date; now, it was as clear as day. You had fallen for him, completely and utterly. Willingly too, you knew it was. You knew it would happen, yet you stuck with him anyway.

It was selfish, and it was unfair. But Steve made you feel warm in a way you never had before, so you turned a blind eye to the inevitable outcome. Until now. Until the affection became real and tangible. Until he seemingly felt the same. For when something is real, it can hurt you.

You pulled your hand away from his with a gulp, shoulders growing tense as you curled in on yourself a little.

Steve's face fell immediately, eyebrows knitting together slightly as his eyes silently asked what he did wrong.

The look he gave you squeezed your heart painfully. You looked away. "I- I'm sorry, Steve. I- we can't."

"We can't… go on a date?" Steve chuckled nervously, pushing his now empty bowl of ice cream to the side. He slowly pulled the hand that had been holding yours back to himself, picking at his fingers. "I mean, it's- it's okay if you don't want to. I just thought that, I don't know, maybe we could give this a shot? Us, I mean. I just- you make me feel-" he was rambling, panic making the words roll off his tongue.

"Steve, stop." You snapped, harsher than you wanted to. Your palms were flush against the table as so to ground yourself, and the outline of Steve's lips started to get blurry in your vision. You bit back the tears.

He could only look at you, those gentle eyes of his so confused, tilting his head to the side as a puppy would.

"I'm sorry, but we can't do this." You forced the words out as steady as you could, which, wasn't much. It's crazy how sudden bursts of emotion can numb your senses, if you'd been thinking straight, you would have seen how his eyes held nothing but sincerity, nothing but affection and happiness to be there with you.

But at that moment, it felt safer to push him away, so that's what you did. With a last mumbled "sorry", you got up from the table and walked away from Scoops Ahoy. Away from Steve.

And he watched you leave, with a piece of his heart in your hands. He was silent as he picked up both empty bowls, mumbling curses under his breath as one of the spoons fell and soiled the table.

"How'd it go?" Robin asked him as he walked into the back room, going straight to the sink to wash the dishes.

Steve scoffed, angrily scrubbing the cutlery. "I did what I do best, Robin," foam covered his hands, he had to turn his head to wipe his damp cheek on his shoulder, "mess things up."

______

You didn't see Steve for two weeks after your not-date at the mall.

You didn't have the balls to call him, much less go see him. You didn't think he'd want to see you. You regretted the way you handled your feelings as soon as you got home that day.

The idea of someone having enough power over you to make the mess that a bullet to the heart would, without ever lifting a finger, was scary. You felt that pain once and you swore you'd never let it happen again. A risk that felt too great.

But the idea of losing Steve, the sweet boy that found his way into your heart with dumb jokes and a dorky attitude, was all the more terrifying.

Steve made you want to take the leap of faith that was loving someone.

You mustered up the courage to go see him when fireworks were painting the sky in a multitude of colors on the 4th of July. You would apologize, you would hold his hands and kiss him senseless if he let you.

But you never got to do it. Fate had a knack for messing up your plans. Because on that same night, your mother called you, saying that she would be pulling an all-nighter at the hospital because the new town mall had just burned to the ground. And there were many injured people. And there were casualties.

You had never snatched your car keys and sped off your driveway so fast, almost knocking down your mailbox. Reckless driving was an understatement to describe the way you reached Starcourt in half the time it usually took for you to get there.

Tires screeched against asphalt as you stopped at the Mall's parking lot. Ambulances, police, and even the military littered the place. Blue and red lights were blinking bright under the falling rain, reflecting against the wet ground and the metal of the vehicles.

It was quite a sight to see you running towards the commotion at full speed in your pajamas and a pair of poorly tied sneakers over mismatched socks. You were stomping over puddles and not caring if it got your feet wet, you just needed to find him.

Two strong hands suddenly stopped you in your tracks. You grunted, glaring daggers at the man who blocked your path. So what if he had a massive shotgun on his shoulder, an anxious, worried, and sleep-deprived girl could be just as menacing.

"This is a restricted area, lady, please turn around." His gruff voice commanded.

"I work with them, dude. Let me through." You pointed a trembling finger in the general direction of one of the ambulances, your chest going up and down erratically.

The man that held onto your arms sighed, "I won't tell you again, turn around and leave the area."

"Oh, you won't have to tell me again because I'll-"

Before you could get yourself arrested, a familiar voice interrupted you.

"That's alright, officer," Charles, a young doctor and one of your besties from the hospital walked up to you, "she's with me. Even if a little… underdressed for the job, I need her with me." He looked you up and down with a raised eyebrow, holding in a giggle.

You glared at the soldier as you walked past him, and when he was out of earshot, you thanked Charles; "I owe you one."

"Sure, but what are you even doing here?" The young man frowned, "if they're calling all hands on deck for this, you should be back at the hospital, no?"

You ran a hand through your hair, not being able to stay still as you looked around; there were so many people here, some of them you even knew from school, the rain was getting stronger and dampening your hair and those damn blinking lights of the ambulances were making it hard to focus. "No, no I'm- I'm not here to work, I'm trying to find someone."

"Do you need help? There's… there's been a few casualties, if you need me to-"

"No." You interrupted him quickly, you couldn't stomach to even think about the possibility. "It's okay, Charles," with a gentler voice, you laid a hand on his shoulder, "you go do your job and help the others, I'll be alright on my own."

Your friend gave you a sympathetic smile, "okay, just try to be quick, I can't keep them off your back for too long."

With a quick hug of gratitude to Charles, you started roaming around Starcourt's parking lot. The heavy thudding of your heart against your ribcage was starting to hurt, making it hard to breathe. You had to brush the sleeve of your pajama shirt over your eyes a few times, raindrops — or tears, you didn't care to know — were clinging to your eyelashes.

Only after two minutes that felt endless, you finally found him. There, sitting on the back of an ambulance, holding a bag of ice over one of his eyes, was your Steve.

"Steve," you breathed out with a relieved smile. You started running to him before you knew it, water splashing around your sneakers, calling louder; "Steve!"

His head snapped to your direction, his eyebrows scrunched up together when he saw you running to him. "What…" He mumbled, dropping the ice bag and raising to his feet. The movement hurt his sore muscles, and he didn't have time to prepare himself to have you throwing yourself at him.

The hug was as desperate as you felt since your mother called you earlier, you clutched at Steve's shoulders and buried your head on his neck; feeling the warmth of his body against yours, because he was alive, and he was okay, and he was here.

You didn't hear Steve's pained grunt when you collided with him, but soon your ears caught up with his little hisses of pain.

You pulled back immediately, worried eyes skimming over his body, "oh god I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to-" the words got stuck in your throat for a moment. Steve was looking down at you, smiling, because of course he was, but you could only see the cute crinkle of the smile on one of his eyes, because the other was swollen shut; it was a mix of deep red and purple that turned your stomach upside down. His lip had a massive cut to it that may or may not need stitches, his sailor's uniform was stained with blood and you were scared to find out what other injuries it was covering.

"-hurt you." You finished in a whisper, your hands hovering over his arms for fear of harming him more, and now you were sure that what was falling down your cheeks were tears.

"No, it's okay. It's okay," tears of his own pooled in Steve's already red-rimmed eyes, his words broke in the middle; "you could never." With a soft grip on your waist, he pulled you into a gentler hug, winding his arms around you and dropping his head to your shoulder. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, one that he'd been holding probably ever since that damned elevator dropped below the ground.

You nuzzled his shoulder as you held onto him with a tender grip, one hand going up to thread through his hair. "I was so worried, you have no idea."

Steve squeezed you tighter, he needed the comfort just as much as you, "'m sorry," he spoke against you.

If it was up to you, you'd stay in his embrace forever, but Steve was hurt and the rain was starting to seep through your clothes. You pulled back to look at him; "has anyone checked on you yet? Let me take you to the hospital."

Steve shook his head. He slid his hands down your arms and hooked his fingers with yours, blaming the emotional baggage of today for it. "No hospitals, please. Some paramedics already cleaned the injuries and shit… I just wanna go home." He pleaded, exhausted.

You squeezed his hands. "Yeah, okay. I'll take you, come on."

The drive to Steve's place was silent, mostly. As soon as Starcourt was out of sight, Steve sighed loudly and leaned back against the seat, and he hadn't moved since; you kept a close eye on him, on the steady up and down of his chest. Your knuckles were white holding the steering wheel. More and more, the reason for why you left him when you last saw each other felt incredibly insignificant beside the affection you held for him.

As you parked on Steve's driveway, you noticed that the whole house was dark, there were no other cars in sight either. "Where are your parents?"

Steve groaned, pushing himself up to sit straighter and feeling his bruised muscles complain about it. "Out, on a business trip or vacation, I don't fucking know."

"Steve, you- you can't be alone like this." You turned off your car and turned to him. "You have somewhere else you want me to take you?"

"No, here is fine. I've been alone plenty of times, it's no biggie." He reached for the door handle but hesitated. He gulped before chancing a glance your way. "You could stay though, if you wanted to."

Something in you broke with the way he said it, like he'd been dreading the thought of walking into his own house, — big, and dark, and cold and so empty — like he'd done it too many times before and wanted something to remind himself he wasn't on his own anymore.

You were going to stay even if he hadn't said it. To be honest, you doubted you'd ever willingly leave his side again.

Steve's house was huge and pretty, but in many ways, it seemed stuck in time. Only the same rooms had signs of life in it. An empty bowl of cereal in the sink, a cushion fallen to the floor in the living room, a few shoes discarded near the door; only the necessities. Not a home, just a house with people making use of it.

You walked with Steve up the stairs and to his bedroom, one of your hands always lingering by him. There were many unsaid words and unasked questions hanging thick in the air between you, and even if Steve was tired, before anything else, you insisted he took a shower. You knew he'd feel better after washing off the blood and sweat.

When you heard the stream of water hit the tiles in the bathroom, you walked back to his room and sat on his bed — it was big and so damn comfortable — with your head in your hands. Just about an hour ago, you had no idea you'd be spending the night at Steve's house. Even if you did catch yourself sometimes wondering what your first night together would be like, you'd never guessed it'd be like this.

As bland as the rest of the house may be, Steve's room had a few traces of his personality in it. A few tapes and a cassette player, an old basketball beside his wardrobe, a dusty acoustic guitar resting against the wall; all making it easy to guess that this was the place he spent most of his time in when at home.

It took maybe ten minutes for you to hear Steve turning off the shower, and then he slowly made his way back to his room.

The door was pushed open to reveal Steve in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, though he was still holding his towel in front of most of his chest and abdomen. His hair was damp — much longer than when you first became friends, you realized — a few droplets of water dripping down the strands and to his bare shoulders. He was walking with stiffness to his movements, grimacing every few steps.

"How are you feeling?" You asked in lieu of saying let me see you. But he understood.

"I think I've beat my record." He said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, towel still clutched tightly between his hands.

"Steve," you said quietly, carefully, and if the house wasn't so eerily silent, he wouldn't have heard.

But he did, and that was enough. Steve clenched his jaw before reluctantly throwing the towel over the chair in front of his desk. And the sight clenched your heart painfully. His torso was an array of colors, blacks and blues staining his pale skin, highlighted because of the hot water from the shower; a few wounds so harsh that it was visible they'd drawn blood when done.

Steve squirmed under your gaze. You wondered if he was expecting some kind of scolding, it pained you to think about it.

"My god, Steve," was all you could say over the lump in your throat. You extended a hand for him, silently asking him to come closer.

He took it, sitting down beside you with that familiar hunch to his shoulders. His hand was warm against yours, holding on tightly.

You shuffled closer to him, raising one hand to brush away the strands of hair covering his eyes. Tenderly, because he deserved nothing less. "What happened to you?" You kept your voice quiet, the only lighting into his room came from a lamp on his desk, and from the pool outside, you didn't feel like breaking the peaceful bubble.

Steve pursed his lips, his eyes taking on a brighter shine as water collected on the bottom lid. He didn't look up, solemnly focused on how his fingers played with yours. "The mall burned down."

You sighed, tilting your head to try and catch his gaze. "Did the mall also beat you up while it was burning down?"

A teary chuckle escaped Steve, but a frown soon took its place. He shook his head; "it's complicated."

You squeezed his hand. "You can talk to me."

"I can't," he choked on his words, "I'm sorry, I can't. I wanted to, but it's too dangerous, I can't-"

"It's alright," you shushed when sobs started to cut through Steve's words. You brought both hands up to cup his cheeks, brushing away the falling tears with your thumbs. "You don't have to tell me now. It's okay."

Steve nodded, his hands coming up to grasp at your wrists while he leaned into your hold. His heart was loud against his ears, his lower lip trembling with each ragged breath he took. One never realizes how much he's missing something until he gets it. Steve would happily drown in your comfort.

Eventually, he calmed down enough to ask the one thing he needed to know the most; "how- why were you there tonight?"

With a last brush of your thumb over the damp skin of his cheeks, you lowered your hands, biting onto your lip. "My mother called, saying how she'd be staying at the hospital tonight because Starcourt had burned down, and…" you looked up at Steve, heart on your hands and parted lips as the words laid on the tip of your tongue, "I was so scared, Steve. When she told me, my- my first thought was you. If you were okay or, if you got hurt."

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling to chase away tears of your own and then back at him; "I just needed to find you. And I'm sorry for the way I left things when we last spoke, I should have handled it differently, you- you deserved better." You chuckled humorlessly, "I said so myself, didn't I?"

That made Steve smile. He was all cuts and bruises, eye swollen and lip split; and you loved him so much it hurt. He chanced a hand up to your jaw, holding you carefully. "No one's better for me than you. No one cares for me as you do." His gaze moved to your lips, only a fraction of a second. "Why'd you do it?" He asked.

Steve's eyes held nothing but affection. You felt safe with him, safer than you ever did before. "A while ago, before we met, I trusted someone," you glanced out his window as you recalled it, "and they broke that trust, they- they used me. Got what they wanted and then just… vanished. It made me feel like a trophy, for a game, the ones that get discarded right after it ends."

You found Steve's gaze again, he was listening intently. There was a hint of anger on his features, but you realized it wasn't for you, it was for whoever hurt you. You took a deep breath, and continued; "I got over it, sorta. I promised myself I wouldn't give anyone else that sort of power, you know?"

Steve nodded, his hand on your cheek was mindlessly playing with the hair behind your ear. "I understand."

"It was safer that way. Lonelier too." You explained. "But then you came along and… all my rules just went straight out the window." You smiled, ducking your head onto his hand when you felt warmth coming to your cheeks.

"Maybe I could be the lucky exception to those rules then?" Steve chuckled, this time it was his eyes searching yours.

"I think you've been the exception since the first time I saw you covered in blood." You bit your cheek to contain your smile, gravitating closer to Steve as your hand ghosted over his waist.

Before you could close the gap between you, Steve looked you in the eyes, sincerity overflowing his blown pupils; "I hope you know, I'd never hurt you, ever."

You nodded, resting your forehead against his, your noses bumping together. "Promise?" You breathed out, your lips grazing his as you spoke.

You felt the shape of his smile, "cross my heart."

With a hand behind your head, Steve pulled you into a kiss, one that you both melted into, clinging to each other as if this was your last day on earth together.

Your hands made a mess of his hair and his arms closed around your waist as he pulled you impossibly closer.

Maybe you did keep your promise to him, maybe his happy ending was always meant to be intertwined with yours.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated so I can keep bringing you these stories. <3

Steve’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @tiaamberxx @alexisaflop @alicetweven @just-love-reading @katsukis1wife @frostandflamesfanfic

Let me know if you wanna be added to his taglist.

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #strangerthingsedit #stranger things #steve harrington x you #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #steve harrington fanfic #steveharringtonedit #joe keery #stranger things x reader #st #my story

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houxe · 2 months

Text

Regarding my SBI/DSMP Fics

TW: Abuse, Trauma, and Mentions of Suicide.

With all that has happened, I did want to come out here and make my stance clear. I will always stand with Shelby (Shubble) and all of the victims who are speaking out against Will Gold (Wilbur Soot). If you still support that bastard, unfollow me and leave my blog and whatever small community I made.

I've already stated this is my Discord channel, but I want to put it here too.

For me, c!Wilbur is so far removed from cc!Wilbur that I don't connect the two. The characters are vessels for my own characterizations and stories. It's a bit like writing Supernatural*, Twilight, or Hazbin Hotel fanfics. I don't support the guy, monetarily or otherwise, he does not interact with fanfics, I have plans to be very vocal that I'm on Shelby's side no matter what/make it clear that what Will did is wrong, and I don't use his real life events as plots in my stories. At least, I certainly don't try to. It's why I typically change traits about the characters. (I.e. Tommy is shorter, Phil is taller, Techno is bulky, and Wilbur always has golden/hazel eyes.)

I'm aware that it's a tad different because it's rp and not something like a full on book or an actor in a movie, but DSMP has also been over for over two years and the characterizations I make for SBI are not at all based on the CCs. Real life Techno isn't a literal terrorist, Phil ain't a father married to a goddess, Tommy is not a traumatized child soldier, and Wilbur isn't suicidal and blowing up countries.

I think I'll likely focus more on Techno, Tommy, and Phil for a while, but I'm not gonna let one dude ruin a fandom and things I've made for myself. Nothing I write is ever made for Wilbur, as I've seen people saying. Additionally, Wilbur was not the only writer. Technoblade, Philza, TommyInnit, and so many others made that story what it was. Not him.

However, if any CCs come forward saying they don't want their old characters interacting with his, I will respect that.

Though I do think there is a tendency to take real life events (i.e. Techno's cancer, LJ's music, Tommy's real life parents, etc.) and put them into fiction about DSMP. I, however, don't try to do that and have stated before that I don't feel comfortable doing so. The truth is that we have not gotten any genuine SBI content outside of DSMP for years. The dynamic in real life is very different from what was presented in the DSMP. Did personalities still bleed over? Yes, I'm not going to deny that, but I'm not going to act like they're exactly the same between character and person either. We've had that conversation like in 2021, it's why we have C! and CC!.

The rather sad truth is, SBI is what got me really into writing and it's a comfort for me that nothing can compare to. Obviously, I don't think it's appropriate to be writing certain types of stories right now or to be involving characters made by CCs outside of the DSMP. I think it's up to everyone else to decide on what they want to do, however, rushing it also isn't the way to go either. Give yourself time to heal and think it over first instead of throwing away something that gives you comfort and has not been associated with by the creators for over two years.

Anyways, fuck Will Gold. Fuck the fact that he hurt so many people, and fuck that he lied and manipulated his way around the damn internet. ESPECIALLY fuck the fact that he tried to diminish what he did and not take proper accountability.

Go and support Shelby so so much, she and everyone who spoke out really deserve it. I'm glad silence on these types of issues is not being normalized.

Here is a list of (American) resources for DV help:

TNLR

RAINN

WOAR

Love is respect

The Trevor project

Futures without violence

National domestic violence hotline

Resource on what DV and abuse looks like

*Changed it from Harry Potter to Supernatural because Harry Potter is a significantly worse and more problematic franchise, even just within the content of the books. It'd be better left in the dust. I've talked about it before, but it was the first thing that came to my mind at the time and was a poor comparison on my part, I'm truly sorry for that.

#tw abuse #tw suic mention #dream smp #ao3 #fanfic #shelby support #tw trauma

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justwearthegoddamncardigan · 3 months

Note

could you possibly do a platonic gladers thing where reader was the first to come out of the box? like they came up with the note like teresa but “the first” if that makes sense 😭 anyway the reader is just sort of a parental figure to everyone? whatever gender you’d like to put and scenarios, the thought just popped in my head. ofc do this only if you’d like to!! pls don’t feel obligated!! love ur work <333 /p

HI LOVE THIS!! Thank you for the request ❤

Everyone loves Y/n

Platonic gladers x gender neutral!reader, set during tmr (movieverse)

3k - longish fic but worth it if you love platonic love 🫶

Warnings: discussions of Newt's suicide attempt; but more like the recovery after it, still please take care everyone, also language warning

1. Alby

You're the first one. Welcome.

You stuff the crinkled note back in your pocket just as you've done so many times before, re-examining it and hoping for some clue as to why you're stuck in here alone.

Except- you're not alone anymore.

The boy stands beside the Box, staring around the same way you did when you first climbed out, exactly 30 days ago.

Come on, Y/n. Time to go. You take a deep breath, resolving yourself, and you step out from where you'd been standing hidden in the trees.

The guy notices you immediately and takes a defensive stance, understandably hostile and scared. "Who are you? Don't come any closer!"

"Woah, hey," you raise your arms nonthreateningly, continuing to move slowly towards him. "It's alright."

"Where am I?" demands the boy.

"To be honest, I haven't got a clue," you tell him. "But you've got no idea how happy I am to see you."

His eyes narrow. "What?"

You shrug. "I thought I'd be alone here, forever."

At his silence, you continue. "So I've been here for a month. I was sent up in this Box, like you, with a bunch of resources and... hey, they've sent more stuff," you say happily, peering into the Box.

"Alright listen man," you say. "I don't really have answers for you, but I did start developing a routine for how to live here, and I'd love for us to work together."

The boy holds your gaze for a second, before giving a single nod.

You let out a sigh of relief. "Great, wonderful. I'm Y/n, by the way." You stick out your hand to shake. "Oh- memories. Your name is all you get, everything else is gone. But hey, let's make new memories here, together." You flash a cheesy grin and clap the guy on the shoulder.

You don't know how someone conveys sarcasm in a single look, but the new guy manages it just fine.

2. Minho

"Here, this way- shit."

You turn the corner and see the wall sliding into place, sealing off your exit.

"Which way now?" asks Minho, fear evident in his voice.

"Uh- that was already my backup route," you say honestly, backing away from the closed wall. "Just follow me, we'll find another way back."

You start down a lane, moving faster now, admittedly guessing your way through the paths and taking turns on instinct, aiming for the vague direction of the Glade.

Somewhere across the Maze a Griever lets out a screech.

"Yeah, okay," you mutter. Shuck. "In here, quickly," you direct, pushing Minho ahead into a smaller lane.

"Alright, here's the deal." You squat down, forcing Minho down with you, and keeping your voice low. "If I'm right, we're close to the Glade now. There should be a right turn at the end of the path next to us now, then a left and a straight shot back to the Glade."

"What if you're not right?" hisses Minho, wincing at the Griever's screech.

"Then we're dead," you say flatly. "Cause that Griever's in the same direction we're going. By the sound of it, we'll be running the path right beside it's lane."

"What."

"Look, Minho. Do you trust me?"

He hesitates, before; "Yes, fine. Let's go."

You shoot him a grin, patting his shoulder. "Perfect. Follow me, stay close."

You run through the route you'd explained to Minho, feeling your blood chill as you get closer to the Griever, its screeches becoming deafening.

You turn to check on Minho, who gives you a firm nod despite the terror you can see in his eyes.

The two of you turn into the final stretch, separated from the Griever by a single wall, and you sprint back to the Glade, heart pounding in your chest.

You collapse into the grass, breathing heavily as Minho falls in beside you.

"What the hell happened to you two?" demands Alby, running up to you and Minho.

You sit up. "Maze changed, and there was a Griever near the Glade," you explain. "Too near."

"Bloody hell," says Newt, hands balanced on his hips. "Are you sure this was a good idea?"

So far you and Alby have been the only people to enter the Maze. Today was meant to be a beginner's run for Minho, your newest Glader and technically the Greenie even though he's never acted like it. You wanted to build a team of Runners, to see if more people could help with searching for an exit.

You look to Minho, still bent over in the grass. "Let's talk in the hut," you say, patting his arm.

"What did you think?" you ask, after you've both gotten water and a few minutes to let the adrenaline fade.

Minho flicks his gaze up at you, before dropping it. "I freaked out. I don't think I'm cut out for this Runner klunk."

You hum softly, tapping on the table Gally had lovingly built and sanded until it shone. "Do you think everyone was immediately good at their jobs?"

"Running is different," responds Minho, dodging the question.

"You were fast," you say. "I think you'd beat any of us in a race if we bothered to test it out. And you've got a level head, which is the most important thing when you're in the Maze."

You lean forward. "But you also need the guts to set foot in the Maze in the first place. And Minho, you were the first volunteer to run with me today. That's exactly the bravery we need in Runners."

You're met with silence. "If I asked you to be a Runner," you say quietly. "Would you say yes?"

"You could be asking the wrong person," hedges Minho.

"I don't think so," you say.

"I- why? Why me?"

"Because I believe in you," you say simply. "I think you could do it."

The silence stretches as you wait for Minho's response. Then; "Okay, I'll do it." He gives you a nod, expression resolving.

You sit back, a mock-thoughtful expression on your face. "I mean, I said if I asked you, this was really more hypothetical-"

"Y/n, I swear-"

You let out a laugh, and Minho rolls his eyes at you, grinning.

3. Newt

Overtime, the Gladers have grown into a wider community, with new jobs and groups slowly added.

Alby steps into the leader position and you move into your gardening job, as well as mentoring the Medjacks on the side. You tend to pick up a little of every job, passing what you know to newly formed groups until they can develop on their own.

Minho's grown far beyond what you could have expected from him, moving on to memorising routes, constructing a scarily detailed Map, and hand-picking the new Runners.

Newt becomes a Runner too, and you almost lose him.

They're some of the worst memories you'll ever have, that day Minho ran in in the freezing morning, screaming for help. The Medjack hut was finished literally a day before, and the Medjacks themselves were barely trained to patch up the Slicers. So everyone turned to you... And you were so, so, out of your depth.

You'd built a temporary brace for your own twisted ankle from your first month alone in the Glade, but for this you were completely unqualified and unprepared.

It’s been months now, with Newt slowly healing overtime. You worked with the Medjacks to set up a few movement drills, but it’s been painstakingly slow progress.

“I want to try walking again.”

You lift your gaze to Newt in the dark. “Now?”

“I wanna go outside.”

You hesitate.

“Come on, Y/n, I barely got five steps in today before Jeff made me sit down again. I’m fine, I promise.”

“You’re fine when the Medjacks say you’re fine,” you reply.

“The Medjacks don’t know shit,” retorts Newt. “They’re just making stuff up as they go. That’s what we’ve all been doing.”

“I trust them,” you say steadily. “Alby and I chose them for a reason.”

“Y/n, can you please just let me outside.”

You let out a breath. “Fine. Take your crutches.”

You don’t go far; the ground is too uneven and the crutches slip in the grass. You end up dropping them near the top of a hill.

“Here, let’s sit.”

You reach a hand out to Newt, which he thankfully takes, letting you help him down so you’re both lying back on the grass, facing up at the night sky.

“It was a good idea,” you say, breaking the silence. “I get why you wanted to come out.”

"Yeah," says Newt. He jerks his chin upwards. “The stars, they’re what I’m here for.”

You tip your head back, following Newt’s eye line. “You know, my first night here, I hadn’t built a place to sleep. I just lay on the ground like this, looking up at the stars.”

Newt shifts, moving one hand to point upwards. "I recognise most of the constellations," he tells you.

"Really?"

"Yep. That's Orion, right there. And over there is Gemini. And that star is Sirius, in Canis Major."

You search your mind for a hint of a memory, trying to call up knowledge you might have had before being put here.

"It's all bullshit," says Newt.

You turn to him in surprise.

"The stars," he says, still staring upwards. "None of them should be arranged like that, the constellations wouldn't be that close, or even in the same area, if this was real."

"Oh," you say, voice soft.

Newt lets out a flat laugh. “I don’t know why they let me keep this knowledge, when they’ve taken everything else away.”

He sits up, eyes flicking down to you. “…sorry.”

You shake your head, sitting up and turning to face him. “It’s okay. I’d rather you say this stuff than keep it bottled up.”

“Right,” says Newt. “I guess we should… get back to the hut.”

Neither of you move to get up.

“Newt,” you say. You face forward, resting your arms loosely around your knees.

”Yeah?”

“Please stay with us,” you say, voice quiet. You turn to him, letting go of your legs to gently take his hands. “We need you, I- we- okay, let me just-” You take a deep breath. “Listen, we’re gonna get out of here some day. And I want to sit with you under real skies, with real stars, so you can tell me each and every constellation you see. Cause I know your nerdy ass studied all of them in another life, and I don’t know, when we run out, we can just... make up new ones? I think that’s something I want to do with you.”

“Yeah, okay- yes. Okay.” Newt’s eyes are wet, and he squeezes your hands right back.

“And talk to us,” you continue. “When you’re struggling, or hurting, or… anything. Just talk to us, Newt. Please. We need you, and we care about you, so much.”

“I’ll try, I’m trying.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you say.

“God, okay,” you start, after staying there under the stars for a while. “Look at us. Let’s get back in the hut, c’mon.”

You help him up, handing him his crutches.

“So, we’re trying,” you say, looking Newt in the eye.

“Yes, we’re trying.”

You get the smallest of smiles from him, and count it as the biggest win.

4. Gally

"First he breaks all our rules, then he tries to convince us to abandon them entirely? These rules have held us together for years, why are we questioning them now?"

You frown slightly, taking in Gally's words from your seat at the back of Council Hall.

"If Alby was here, he'd agree with me, and you know it."

You watch pain flicker across Newt's face for a second, before he speaks. "Let's take a break. I want Minho, Gally, and Y/n in here, the rest of you just give us ten minutes."

As the others clear out, you join the three in the centre of the room.

"Newt, this really isn't complicated. That shank broke our rules, and he needs to be punished," says Gally.

Newt sighs, and you notice how tired he looks. He needs Alby. "You're not wrong, Gally, but..."

"Y/n, what are you thinking?" asks Minho, jerking his chin at you as Newt trails off.

You raise your eyebrows. "You know I have no say in this, Min. I'm not a Keeper, or any kind of leader. I'm pretty much just here to watch the meetings."

"Seriously, Y/n?"

"Fine," says Newt. "Then suppose we're asking you as friends asking a friend, not as a council leaders or Keepers."

"I don't-"

"Just speak, Y/n," says Gally exasperatedly.

"I- alright, the idea that Newt's having right now, mine's the same."

"Well, we'd love to hear it from your mouth," says Minho drily.

"Yeah Y/n, what am I thinking?" Newt crosses his arms, lifting a brow.

You sigh. "Punish Thomas for breaking the rules, but make him a Runner."

"You can't be serious," says Gally immediately.

Newt shrugs. "They're right, that's what I was thinking."

"I'm down to train him," says Minho. "I think he'd make a good Runner."

"Good. Call the Council back in then, we'll make the announcement."

"You're making a mistake," says Gally angrily. "Tell the others without me." He storms out as the rest of the Keepers file in.

"Gally-"

"Nah, Fry."

"I got him," you say, nodding at Frypan.

"You're alright," you whisper as you brush past a stressed-looking Thomas. You squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, and he gives you a small smile of gratitude.

You shut the door behind you, chasing Gally down as he storms into his hut.

"Gally wait-"

"I don't want to hear it, Y/n."

He slams his door shut, closing you out. You sigh, and let yourself in.

"Get out of my hut, Y/n."

"Stop, Gally," you say sharply. "Just listen."

Miraculously, he stays quiet, leaning back on the wall and crossing his arms.

"I... I know you're scared, Gally."

"What-"

"Oh my god, just hear me out," you huff, rolling your eyes. "Okay, so yes, we just got attacked by Grievers, right here in the Glade. And yeah, it's probably linked to Thomas. And- yes, making him a Runner and letting him pretty much just fuck around and find out could put us in danger. ...But he's also the closest we've ever been to understanding the Maze and this whole place. I think he's the key to getting us out of here."

You sit down on Gally's bed, gesturing for him to sit down beside you. He lets out a huff, but reluctantly takes a seat.

You look him in the eye. "Gally I've been here for three years, and it's great. We've built a structure, a life, a goddamn society. But I really, really want to see the outside world."

Gally scrubs a hand over his face, dropping his gaze. "Yeah, I know, Y/n. I'm just- I'm trying to keep everyone safe. Newt and Minho are blinded by this hope, they're believing too much in one guy who's been here for literal days."

"I know, I know. But we need to take that risk, if we want to get out of here, alright?"

Gally sighs, then nods. "Yeah, fine."

"I'm gonna help Thomas, and Newt and Minho in whatever plans they make."

You hold out your fist. "Promise me you'll follow the plans we make, and stick with us. Don't... you know, make your own group and stay here and get killed, or whatever you were planning to do."

Gally rolls his eyes at you, and reluctantly brings his fist up to knock against yours, following through with the handshake the two of you used to do after building something, back when you used to help out with the other jobs. "Yeah, yeah, we get it Y/n. You've been here the whole time, you know us sooo well, you can read our minds."

You grin widely. "Damn right I can."

5. Thomas (everyone loves Y/n)

"Do you think this'll work?" asks Thomas, chewing on his lip worriedly.

"Of course it will," you say. "Have a little faith in your plan, Thomas. You don't need approval from me."

Thomas huffs out a laugh. "Thanks. It's nice to hear you're confident, though."

You raise your eyebrows, smiling a little confusedly. "I mean, I'm glad my support motivates you."

Thomas squints his eyes at you. "Y/n, you know you're like... super respected, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, everyone looks up to you. You don't notice the way people turn to you in tense situations and stuff? You're kinda like an understated leader, I guess."

"Ah, right." You smile at him. "It's cause I was the first person here, which I do get credit for, I don't know why. Totally underserved, Alby's the one who built this place."

"Bullshit." You turn in surprise as Minho walks in, Newt following behind him.

"What?"

"Undeserved credit, my ass," says Minho, crossing his arms. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be a Runner."

"Yeah," says Newt, coming over to your side. He props an elbow on your shoulder, grinning at the frown you send him. "And you know what," he says quietly. "If it wasn't for you, I might not even be here."

You smack his arm. "Don't even say-"

"Gally, tell Y/n we love them," interrupts Minho.

"Huh?" Gally lifts a brow, before nodding. "Yeah, everyone loves you, man. Don't take it personally. If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't even be on board with this plan right now."

"Ugh-" you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Thomas leans in. "Told you so."

"God, let's just do the plan. Let's go, everybody out," you say hurriedly, shoving Newt out, ignoring Minho's snickers.

You stand between Minho and Gally as Thomas and Newt explain the plan to the Gladers, feeling yourself surrounded by friends; family.

Time to get out of here.

The end chapter is cheesy but I love it thank you for reading <3333

#the maze runner #platonic gladers x reader #alby x reader #minho x reader #newt x reader #gally x reader #thomas x reader #my writing

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elthecreator · 13 days

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A/N: Hi my loves<33

HI GUYSSSS IM NOT DEADDD LMAOOOOO. Girllll It’s been a LONGGGGGGGG ass couple of months. So many things of happened, school has been the reason I haven’t written jack shit in so long bro. BUT SUMMER IS ALMOST HEREEE. So I’m starting to make time for my hobbies again!! I have missed so much ugh. I had just started to feel like I was fitting in. But I will try to write a lot more, just be patient with me please 💞. I have gained so much love of my writing even WHILE I was gone!!! Y’all inspire me to continue writing.

I love youuu. I hope you guys enjoy this for right now. Feel free to fill up my inbox with request! I’m still filling them out. (Doesn’t just have to be NSFW.) ANYWAY BYEEE I HOPE YALL EAT THIS UP BECAUSE I PUT MY LEFT TIT INTO THIS 😩‼️

“You have to keep quiet before Joel hears us.”

Ellie whispered quietly on top of you. All three of you in one room, you, Ellie, and Joel. You guys had found a base full of survivors and they let you three in. Having to share a room just for one night until one of the survivors left tomorrow morning.

But fuck. Ellie couldn’t wait.

It was a bad idea a horrible idea even. But in this apocalypse everyone has their urges. We are all still human with human needs and desires. And she couldn’t fucking wait to get you to that base. On that mattress. Holding on to her for dear life.

“I can’t I can’t. Please Ellie.. I can’t keep quiet.”

You said gasping in between your words, she was between your legs. Her strap deepening inside of you. Muscular body hovering over, grunting quietly in your ear as she motioned her body in and out of you.

“Shh.. almost there baby almost there.”

She cooed. Your arms were wrapped around her and her hand covering your mouth. You made little gasps here and there. All this going on while Joel was asleep in the bed beside you and Ellie’s. Both of you praying to god he didn’t hear you two.

The sensation felt so good on her clit, the surface of the strap bumping into her.

“Fuck, you feel so good on me.”

She said against the skin of your neck.

“Wrap your legs around me. Hold on.”

She said fixing her position a little bit. Ellie lifted her hand off your mouth for a moment wanting her baby to be able to breathe. Wrapping your legs around her, you could feel the heat vibrating off her sweaty body. It only made you hungrier. Ellie still in her tank top, you were in her brown flannel.

No bra on no shirt no nothing. Just that flannel covering your tits. Her eyes drop to them, starting to kiss your breasts while holding still. Not fucking you just yet. You groaned, fingers immediately rushing to her brunette strands.

“El’s.. fuck…” You whined.

She sucked and kissed on your breasts hard for a few moments. Before getting back into her stance. Kissing your forehead.

“I’m gonna go faster m’kay?”

“Gonna make my girl cum for me.”

She said rubbing your puffy clit. Sloppily kissing her in response. Legs spread wide so she could insert herself back in. Legs wrapped around her waist again and arms wrapped around her broad shoulders. Starting to move at a slow pace working her way up to fuck you harder.

The bed creaking at Ellie’s pace. Starting to get louder and louder but you were almost there. That’s all that mattered to Ellie was making you cum. She could give two fucks about the bed creaking, when your juices were already melting on her dick. Fucking you faster and faster till you started to call out for her again. Ellie placing her veiny hand back on your mouth. Tears forming your eyes, the both of you hadn’t felt this much pleasure in a very long time. Especially since the apocalypse, the two of you yearning for satisfaction.

When you started reaching your climax she started to reach hers. Her jaw opening wide and eyes rolling back. Trying to keep herself quiet when Joel started shuffling in the bed. But Ellie couldn’t stop. You felt too good.

“Fuck..! Fuck I’m cumming!” She whispered somewhat loudly in your ear.

Breath getting faster for the both of you. Your muffled moans filling the room. Tears rolling down your cheeks from the pleasure. The pleasure was even better since you couldn’t moan like you usually do.

Forcing you to take it all down..

#ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader #black tumblr #ellie tlou #requests ✮⋆˙#masterlist ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚#ellie williams x reader #soft bios #.. inbox ¡!#lgbtq #lesbians #bisexual

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myheadhurtscutely · 6 months

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STAR STATIONARY - Modern!Anakin x Reader

(!teaser!)

C ` Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary ` You start your new job as a receptionist today, and it seems like you're already making friends. A blonde boy in particular. How sweet. this is a teaser for the star stationary series in the works, I wanted to get something out for you guys, feedback is welcome :) enjoy!

!Warnings! None atm, Angst to come, and fluff tho

wc ` 585

notes ! this is inspired by characters, Jim and Pam, from a tv show, The Office.

Ding! The elevator finally chimed, indicating your arrival at your new employer. 'Finally!' You thought to yourself, arms crowded with your personal belongings, readily available to decorate your new desk. You were the only person who applied for the boring office job as a receptionist. It was average pay, at a failing company so you figured, it would be okay just for a while. Much to your dismay, as the elevator doors slid open, it revealed the cheap cafe a couple floors below the office. A young man stood outside of the double doors. Tall, dirty blonde, glasses, and absolutely beautiful. If your arms weren't shaking earlier, they definitely were now, along with your knees.

He shyly scooted into the elevator, as if it was full, leaving about an inch or two of space between the both of you. The elevator ride was near silent. Small shuffles and the faint drumming of whatever song was blaring in his headphones was the only white noise to accompany the deafening silence. You peered over at him a couple times through your peripherals, and at some point, you swore you saw him take a glance at you too.

The elevator was coming to a stop, the poor old thing jerked as it completed its job, causing you to stumble out of your carefully modified stance to accommodate the weight in your arms, and drop several nicknacks and papers. How embarrassing. Thankfully, the blonde boy dropped to his knee to retrieve your items, as you profusely apologized for causing a mess. The elevator doors pry open with a screech revealing the carpeted floors and yellow tinted cream walls of the office space. He picks up one last decoration from your collection and holds it up in front of his blue eyes, inspecting with a slight smirk.

"You like Star Wars?" He cocked his eyebrow, meeting your eyes, as the both of you step out of the elevator before it closes. The office was lit with a white light, flickering ever so slightly overhead. Fake potted plants stood at entrances. Desk cluttered on top and around each nook and cranny.

"Um," You hesitate. Was it stupid to be into that kind of thing nowadays? "Yeah. It's one of my favorites." you say hurriedly. He dangles the Yoda charm a moment longer before placing it in an empty coffee mug you were holding onto for dear life with your pinky.

"Me too." He flashes a quick smile and asks if you need help, which you decline. He carries on, walking to a door near the backside of the space. You set your stuff down with a thud on your new desk. A bigger than usual semi-circle, right near the entrance, with accompanying desk to the right of it. You pull out your pens, highlighters, notepads, stickers, everything you brought to personalize your space. Taking your time, even color coding the order of your pens, you wait. What was there to do? What was your task. The phone rang. You look around in a panic, what do you say? Almost as if heaven had sent an angel your way, the blonde guy from earlier returns with a mug in hand. A Star Wars logo branded the front of it. Cute.

He sees your distress and you nod towards him. He makes his way over to you, leaning over your shoulder to grab the telephone. "Hello. Thank you for calling Star Stationary Company, my name is Anakin. How can I help you today?"

Notes ` OMG OMG OMG OMG YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I AM FOR THIS, but anyway I know this is super short but there's just so much in my brain rn, actual brain rot its crazy. The first chapter is going well, its wc is 2k as of right now, i plan to top it off around 10k or so. we'll see. The support has been amazing I love you! <3

tags ` @darthgloris

#anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #star wars x reader

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lovingperfectionsblog · 7 months

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For What It's Worth - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Plan is formulated.

Max Verstappen x Reader.

Chapter Summary: Max finally sees the flowers that lead to his downfall and reluctantly helps his best friend come up with a plan to find out who sent them.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 2736.

Author's Note: Please forgive me for this taking so long. Life happens I guess. I have als decided I am probably going to be making the chapters slightly shorter, because yeah, just something fun and silly. Can’t wait to hear your guys thoughts On all of this <3

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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“I mean, they’re flowers?” Both you and Max stood above the bunch resting on the table, the note lying just below them, conveniently placed upside down so it couldn’t be read. Max couldn’t help but feel that the florist's logo was taunting him. His hand gripping the back of the chair that he was leaning on, itching to turn the card over to silence its taunts. The only thing worse would be what was on the other side of the card. He couldn’t look at that. His own words, his confession staring back at him.

“They’re my favourite flowers.” Your stance mimicked Max’s, only now you were looking at him. You watched as he slowly nodded his head, not in recognition of being told new information, but instead a nod of confirmation. “So I assume you told him which flowers to get then?”

It was accusatory, you were egging him to confess that he knew who had sent the flowers. “I didn’t tell anyone these were your favourite flowers.” He still hadn’t looked at you, eyes willing the note to catch fire.

“But you knew these were my favourite flowers?” He could feel the sweat starting to drip down the side of his face where you were burning a hole with your eyes.

“In my defence, everyone knows these are your favourite flowers, I didn’t need to tell anyone because you cannot keep any personal information to yourself.” This was the first time he looked at you and he couldn't help but feel a smile tug at his lips as he caught sight of the scandalised look on your face.

“Don’t lie, I am very good at keeping secrets, thank you very much.” You shoved Max’s shoulders, you couldn’t help but notice how his arms tensed under the force, which helped him barely even move from his position.

“You’re good at keeping other people's secrets, your own though? You’re an open book.” It was a matter of fact and he knew you knew he wasn’t wrong, your silence and scowl confirming exactly what he had just said.

“So you didn't tell him?” As he shook his head in response, he was simultaneously confused and slightly insulted that you hadn’t assumed it was him. Had you completely written him off as a viable option considering the fact that you both worked together?

“Have you read the note?” There was absolutely no chance that he was going to read what was on that note, and anyway, he already knew exactly what was written and what was meant to be written, his name.

“I don’t need to read the note.” It sounded childish coming out, even he knew that, but he really really did not need to read that note, especially not in front of you.

“Read the note Max.” You reached forward to turn it over, and there were the words, His words, mocking him even more violently than that logo had.

The WDC means nothing if I don’t have a woman like you by my side.

They could cheer my name in those stands until the end of time, but the only name I’d ever recognize myself having is “yours”.

Even on that podium, in front of a sea of people, only when I see you, do I truly feel like I have something worth celebrating.

You are my calm, my favourite feeling, my safe space, I can only hope that I can be yours as well?

“Do you think he was asking me out?” Your voice pierced through the ringing in his ears, his brain inundated with criticism of why this was the worst love note he could have possibly written. It had seemed cute at the time, the F1 theme and all made sense, he was a WDC, you worked for him in F1, you had met because of F1, kind of, sort of, he didn’t like to dwell on that moment too much, but now, the note seemed awful. It seemed like a cliche.

And worst of all, you didn’t even understand that he was asking you to be his girlfriend. Could he have fucked this up any more than he already had?

Thank God he had forgotten his name.

“I think he was probably asking you out,” he took a quick glance your way before continuing, testing the waters, “I think he might have been asking you to be his girlfriend?”

Why the fuck were you scrunching your face like that?

“He is not asking me to be his girlfriend.” The scoff you added at the end had Max feeling a lot more offended than he was allowed to show in this situation.

“Of course he’s asking you to be his girlfriend. Look at the last line.” Max shoved the note in your direction, making sure to only briefly touch the card.

“Who asks someone to be their girlfriend without signing their name?” You shoved the card back.

“A fucking idiot.” Him.

“Which could be any driver on this grid.” He hated how smug you looked right now, especially because it was him. He was the idiot. No one else on that grid would have done something this stupid. Just him.

“And you want me to help you?” You frantically nodded along, “You want me to find you an idiot to date?” Max felt the entire air of the room shift, and yes, he can admit that maybe he had said that a little harshly, but he wasn't expecting you to look so deflated at the comment.

“Well, yeah, I mean, he clearly either pays attention to me or he went out of his way to make the effort and like, yeah, I know that maybe it’s the bare minimum, but I don’t know if you can tell, but it’s not exactly like I date a lot.” You had stopped looking directly at him and Max, for the first time, had noticed that you were a little embarrassed by the confession.

“You should date more.” Me. You should date me. More. Well, you should start. Is what Max wanted to say.

“Of course, if only it was that easy, you know, all things considered.” You laughed along to your own joke as you began moving around your hotel room, grabbing your jacket which had been previously strewn on the bed, slowly ushering Max out of the room with you so you could leave.

“Considering what?” Max shut the door behind him and quickly fell in step with you, making your way down the hall.

“You know? All the travel? Being the assistant to the big bad Max Verstappen?” You stopped in front of the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor.

“Big Bad Max Verstappen?” What did your dating life have to do with you being his assistant?

“You do know men will not get near me because of the fact that we are together constantly. There have been a lot of rumours of us dating Max. How do you not know this?”

He hated how proud he felt. He truly hated how good this all made him feel, but yeah, he wanted everyone to know that you were his. Well, not yet, but you were going to be his girlfriend.

Eventually.

Hopefully.

“Hurry up, you’re going to be late!” He had noticed that you were already at the hotel doors, waiting for him to catch up and so he had broken out into a jog to catch up with you.

“Yeah, well, maybe they should stay away.” Wrong this for him to say, but he was proud of it.

“Why? So you can just keep me as your assistant forever?” You laughed as you slid into the car, losing Max;s eyesight.

“You do realise you’re also my best friend right? Like, my best friend in the whole wide world?” He started the car and pulled into traffic.

“You’re the one who hired me Max, and plus, it’s a race weekend. I’m your friend after hours.” He hated that you put your feet on the dash.

“Probably should have never done that.” You let out a laugh that filled the car, but you would never know how serious he actually he was.

Every part of him regretted hiring you. If he hadn’t then maybe he could have you in the paddock with him as his girlfriend instead. A girlfriend he could hug and kiss publically and not be the creepy fucking boss.

“Getting sick of me already?”Max countered, willing himself not to look at you while he was driving. He always found himself having to do exactly this.

“I could never get sick of you Maxie” He knew you were teasing him, but he’d be lying if he said that one sentence didn't mean the world to him too.

“If you’re going to be cheeky, you can always just quit.”

“Fine.”

“No.”

You barked out your laugh and he couldn’t help but mimic it, mostly from relief though. He was embarrassingly reliant on you, and not even as his assistant, although, yeah, as his assistant too, but it was mainly as his friend.

“You saying you need me there Maxie.” More teasing.

“Yes.” He chose to be completely honest with you.

He could feel your eyes on him, his hands gripping the steering wheel just ever so slightly tighter, making the final turn towards the track.

“Yeah, I need you too.” It was a whisper, he was almost certain he wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did. Maybe there was still a chance.

The rest of the ride was silent, comfortable, both of you letting the confessions sit in the air, allowing you both to breathe them in.

The next time either of you speak, you’re making your way into the paddock, the nerves of the season finally seeping in as the first real day of the race weekend begins.

“So, I’ve come with a plan.” You shuffled through the gates, Max following close behind.

“A plan for what?” Max tried to wrack his brain for what could possibly need a plan of action for the weekend, “There's? Wait, that's for PR and my strategist?”

“Max, no, a plan to figure out who sent the flowers.” You shot Mx a confused look, wondering how he had already forgotten about the conversation from this morning.

“Oh.” Fuck, this again.

“So,” You either didn’t notice or just chose to ignore his disinterested reaction as you carried on updating him on what you had come up with, “I’m making a list of each driver on the grid you it could possibly be,” you looked to Max, waiting for his nod before you would continue, “And then kind of, seducing him to maybe,”

“No.”

You looked at Max after the sharp instruction left his mouth. His face was hard set, jaw clenched, eyes forward as he tried to keep his cool.

“Well, how else am I meant to figure out who it was if I don't,”

“If you say the word seduce again, you’re fired.” He’d fire you purely so he could date you, he’d fire you to get you out of this paddock and away from the other drivers immediately, he would do anything to not have to watch you seduce anyone other than him.

“Well what should I do then?” The slap of your arms against your thighs after you dropped them in frustration was enough to finally draw Max’s full attention back to you and what he found was you waiting for an actual idea from him.

He was going to have to help the woman he loves figure out how to seduce other men. His friends.

If anything happens between any of them, he was a little nervous that he was going to take them out on the track.

He was losing his mind.

“Maybe just go up and ask them?” They’d say no, Max would be happy and then he could figure out how to actually get you. Maybe he should seduce you.

No, that’s what the flowers were, and then he’d still be the creepy boss.

“And embarrass myself? No way.”

“And you won’t do that while trying to seduce them?” he faked a laugh as you shoved him away from you.

“Firstly, you’ve never seen me seduce anyone, I'm excellent at it, and secondly, I bet I could have you on your knees with my seduction skills so don’t laugh.” Max felt his entire face heat up at the thought of being on his knees for you. He most certainly wasn’t laughing now.

“Who exactly would you be seducing?” He could get around this. There was always going to be a way for him to get around this. The guys all knew how he felt about you. Surely none of them would fall for any of this, so why not entertain it for a little bit while he figures out what his next move is.

“I knew you’d come around to it! Okay, so I was thinking we should start with Daniel.” Max was going to throw up.

“Daniel?” No, all of this was a bad idea. No.

“Yeah, I don’t know, he was kind of like, looking at me last night, and when we were walking back inside he had his hand on my lower back and like, you know?” If he wasn’t so angry he would have noted how cute the blush looked on your cheeks, but no, he was furious. Daniel knew how he felt and now he was doing all of this? He needed to talk to Daniel, put him in his place when it came to you.

But, he also does all of this to you? Why was he excluded from the potential pool of drivers interested in you?

“So Daniel, then Lando, Carlos,” you continued in lieu of Max responding to your suspicions about Daniel, “then there’s Yuki, George and Lewis.”

“This list is getting pretty long.” God, even Max knew he sounded pathetic with that comment.

“Shut up, there’s a lot of options on that grid.” You grabbed a cup of coffee as you continued rambling on to Max, “and finally, Charles and Pierre.”

“What, not considering me then?” You giggled at his comment, despite how serious he was being, unbeknown to you.

“Probably a little unprofessional to flirt with my boss.” Please, please flirt with me, it’s all Max could think about as you placed the cup of coffee in front of him. “So, what do you think?” You sipped on your cup, waiting for Max to give some decent input.

“It's a list.” The coffee tasted awful.

“Max, please, I just want a shot at love too.” Your voice was too soft, too honest. If Max wasn’t such a coward, this would have been his moment to tell you that you’ve always been loved by him, for too long for him to still be keeping it a secret, but he loved every part of you, in every scenario, in every way. And he was going to love you through this too.

“Okay, so, when do you start seducing Daniel.” Your smile was beaming at him, but he couldn’t help how heartbroken he felt at knowing it was because you were going to try and get another man, one that wasn;t him, one that he considered one of his best friends.

“Well, he’s here this weekend, so why not this Grand Prix?” Your smile had turned from bright to sly and Lord knows Max really really wanted to see that smile in a very different context, where he was the one you were thinking about. Maybe even if you two were alone, in his hotel room, which is exactly what could have happened if the whole thing with the flowers had actually gone how he had planned it. Instead, here you were, thinking about his friend, who he was going to kill and help you flirt with.

In his entire life, out of everything he had ever endured, this was the most defeated he had ever felt, but if it made you happy, well then,

“Yeah, this Grand Prix it is.”

_____________

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#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen #x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #friends to lovers #forwhatitsworth

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just-jordie-things · 8 months

Note

hey!! can i req part 2 of the headcanons meeting megumi for the first time during the jujutsu tech exchange event? thank you!

a/n: ik i said i would make a part 2 for this a long time ago but y'all know i lie :3

read part one here ___

the first mistake megumi made was telling yuuji and nobara about his run in with you during the first portion of the exchange event.

because during the second portion, the pair would not stop teasing him about it. every time he was stuck on the benches with one or both of them, it was nonstop snickering. something about a crush.

so when he actually had to participate in the baseball game, he was very distracted. that brings us to mistake two.

mistake two was he couldn't seem to bring his attention away from you.

if it was his turn to bat, his eyes were finding you in the outfield. if he was on one of the bases, he was sneaking glances out of his peripheral. it didn't completely ruin his ability to play the game, but it did make it more difficult. and it was obvious to his team that his head was in the clouds.

but he couldn't help it. when your eyes would meet you always gave him a little smile and a discreet wave of your hand, as though you were old friends, and not practically strangers.

and god, it got worse when the teams swapped and it was tokyo's turn to pitch.

when you were up to bat you had such a confidence about you. which was deserved, you hit a perfect home run after all. megumi was standing in the outfield completely awestruck. which didn't go unnoticed by his so-called friends, who were still laughing and teasing during the game.

at one point he completely missed an easy out because he hadn't noticed the ball falling in his direction. he was too focused on how excited you looked when you cheered for miwa to run all the bases. you got riled up when you were proud, bouncing and waving your arms as you supported your team. it was... cute.

he didn't actually get to talk to you until the game was over, and actually, you were the one to approach him.

he'd just taken off the dumb helmet that made his hair feel flat and weird. he'd been trying to fix it back to normal when he realized you were walking up to him, your bag slung over your shoulder while the rest of your classmates were already headed out.

it was strange to be alone with just you. it made his face feel hot with awkwardness. (it was awkwardness... right? after your weird encounter during the first part of the event?)

"i just wanted to say good game," you'd said sweetly, and to his surprise, you even stuck your hand out. "it was fun"

despite some hesitation, megumi shook your hand. he made tht awkward too, staring at you like you had a hidden plan of attack, and holding onto your hand a little too long.

you didn't seem bothered by his behavior, you even laughed when you eventually slipped your hand out of his hold.

"uh, yeah, i guess it was... fun" he agreed half heartedly. team sports weren't really his thing. and he could've done without the relentless teasing from his friends through most of it.

"anyways..." you shifted your stance a bit, your hands folding together behind your back. "i also wanted to tell you that i like your shikigami. it's cute. like you. and if you're okay with it, could i give you my number?"

poor guy's doing a full double take, his eyes widen, his face goes pink and his mouth is gaping like a fish. he looks kind of ridiculous, but you're endeared by it, laughing softly as you wait for his response.

"your number?" he repeats, dumbly.

"yeah," you nod. "i dunno. i like you. i wanna talk to you more"

you were so damn blunt megumi wasn't sure if this was some kind of prank or not. it had to be, right?

nonetheless, he's fumbling for his phone, unlocking it and handing it to you so you could put your number in. you're grinning, happily typing in your contact info before passing it back to him.

"no pressure!" you tell him with a smile, just to be sure he's not uncomfortable. "you don't have to reach out. but, if you do, i'll answer" you add the last part softly, accompanied with pink cheeks and shy eyes that barely meet his.

"no, i'll call" he says with certainty.

you're beaming, taken aback by his blunt interest, but eager to know your little crush was reciprocated.

"alright then," you hum. "then i guess i'll talk you later"

you bid him goodbye, having to rush after the rest of your classmates who were determined to go back to kyoto with or without you. but you make sure to give megumi a wave over your shoulder.

he's still frozen in place, not totally sure what had just happened, but he waves back, and his heart starts to beat erratically in his chest.

you don't know it, but before he calls you a day later, he paces the halls of the school trying to think of just what to say when you pick up. he's mad anxious, wanting to come across just right, to tell the right stories and ask the right questions. he's not sure what you saw in him in a matter of a day that made you develop an interest, but he's determined to make sure you remain interested.

he doesn't know it, but you're so excited when he does call that you don't mind at all when he talks about. he could've told you how he'd spent every minute of his day and you would've been delighted to listen.

___ a/n: sorry again this is four months late bcuz i suck :3

#fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi headcanons #fushiguro megumi headcanons #megumi brainrot #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro megumi imagine #megumi imagine #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine

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short-honey-badger · 4 months

Text

Peppermint Tea 20 - Lavender 3

So. I know in my vote post. I mentioned that it probably won't have any Mihawk/Shanks. HOWEVER! My ass went and had to read some MiShanks stuff and now I can't get them out of my head. But I also do not want to leave Peppermint Tea behind because I love my little islander and her snowy devil fruit.

Anyways! I hope you enjoy the direction that I've chosen to go! I promise this will have a happy ending!

Warnings! Drinking! Shanks and Mihawk are mean and their past is peeked into!

Masterlist

A week is all it takes for Mihawk to track Shanks and his crew down. He finds the redhead in the cove of a chain of merchant islands near Sabaody and flairs his haki to get the Emperor’s attention. Shanks jerked his head up from where he’d been dozing in the mid-day sun. He rubs the crust from his eyes and gives the warlord a wide smile in greeting as he approaches.

“Hey, you! Just the guy I wanted to talk to,” Shanks smirks at his old friend, and he pushes himself up, leaning heavily on the tree he’d been dozing under. The warlord looks immaculate as usual, and Shanks doesn’t hide the way he casts his eyes over his bare chest.

Mihawk comes to a stop a foot away from the other man, far closer than he would usually deem to get nowadays. Dracule narrows his eyes at the other man, mood already soured.

“If you weren’t such a drunk buffoon, I would suggest a duel, if only so I could kick your ass,” Drcaule sneers at the redhead. The Emporer looks tired and hungover, not an unusual sight, though at least Shanks seemed sober enough to pay attention. It’s more of a struggle than it should be for him to keep his stance relaxed and nonchalant. Shanks knew more than anyone on the Grand Line how to push Mihawk’s buttons.

“Ohh, now you want to fight? You know I’d win, right?” Shanks sways straight, feet planted as his hand lands on the hilt of Griffon. The tension in the air skyrockets, getting the attention of the rest of the crew that lazes around.

The two of them had not fought since Shanks lost his arm, so having the Hawk's attention on him was riveting. He grins at Dracule, his own haki flaring in response to Mihawk's that is still raging at the redhead.

Beckman takes one look at the two men and rounds everyone up, directing them back to the Red Force. Who knew what was about to happen, and the first mate would rather not have any possible casualties if Mihawk and Shanks decided to actually duke it out.

Mihawk takes a half step forward, not backing down from the challenge that Shanks presents.

“I would like to see you try,” He sneers. Lip curling as he looks down his nose at the bum. The only thing that is keeping him from making mince meat of the younger man is a tiny voice in the back of his mind that sounds oddly like you, telling him how bad of an idea it would be to cause a scene. His snow angel surely wouldn’t be happy with him.

The two powerful men eye each other for a while, ready for the other to make the first move. Shanks sighs and removes his hand from his sword, shifting to gesture at the port town down the beach.

“How about we act like adults and go have a drink? My treat?” Shanks suggests, and Dracule huffs at him but dips his head in agreement. He follows Shanks back into town and to the first bar they come across. They order, and Dracule picks a table in the back, away from the rest of the patrons. Shanks pays like he agrees, and Mihawk takes that as a win.

“This is about that treasure, huh?” Shanks starts after taking a deep pull of his ale, “I just want to go ahead and let you know that you can’t make me stay away. She said that we’re more than welcome to come by her island.”

Dracule could strangle the smug prick across from him. Shanks speaks nothing but the truth, but Mihawk can’t help but bare his teeth in a silent snarl at the redhead’s self-satisfied tone, acting like he had already won whatever argument that had yet to be had. He hadn’t expected Shanks to bestow you with such a familiar nickname, and the older man doesn’t know how he feels about it right now.

“I’m not here to warn you to stay away from the island, Shanks,” Mihawk clears his expression back to one of uninterest and shelves the earlier thought for later. The Emperor can see the displeasure lurking in Dracule’s ringed eyes despite his best efforts, “I’m here to tell you to stay away from,_.”

“I found her first, she is mine, and I am not going to let you of all people ruin the relationship I have with them,” Dracule continues, tone deadly and not booking any kind of room for argument. He sips his wine, finding it subpar, “That girl is worth more to me than any treasure in this miserable world.”

Shanks watches his old friend. He commends the usually monotone man for speaking about his feelings, but the redhead has a stubborn streak bigger than an island, “We’re pirates, Hawkeye. I don’t think I should have to remind you what we do with treasure.”

He lets the threat linger in the air, the tension borderline suffocating, before Shanks breaks it by sipping from his mug once more, “Anyone else I wouldn’t have any kind of reservations about taking what I want, but we’ve been rivals for a long time, and we’ve known each other for even longer Mihawk. What’s one more thing for us to scuffle over?”

“_ is not some kind of prize to be won,” Dracule grumbles, anger leaking over as his hand tightens around his glass. He must consciously think about loosening his grip, or else he would have sent wine and glass exploding everywhere, “And if she were, I have already won.”

Shanks purses his lips and sits back in his seat, amused at having gotten such a rise out of Hawkeye. He wasn’t about to give up, though, but also wouldn’t go behind the warlord’s back. He had too much respect for the other man. He sips his ale and then sets the tankard away.

“You can't be there all the time, Mihawk,” Shanks points out quietly, and his tone has shifted, more to one of careful understanding, “Your duties as a warlord pull you away from her, don't they? Leaving her vulnerable and alone for longer stretches of time than you like.”

Dracule says nothing even as Shanks lays his greatest fears on the table for all to see. The redhead isn't wrong, and just admitting that rankles the warlord in the worst of ways. However, Mihawk wasn't above putting your safety above everything else in his life. There would only be so much he and perhaps Perona could do if Big Mom somehow found out that you still lived.

“Do you know who she is? Her connections?” Mihawks asks the redhead and gets his answer when a dark expression crosses Shanks’ face, “And my involvement?”

“I knew the moment she introduced herself. Is that your reason for wanting her, Mihawk? Are you trying to atone for your sins?” Shanks sends the other man a mean grin, and Dracule matches the look with a glare of his own. Shanks can remember the day of your island's destruction and can remember the disappointment he felt when he found out that Dracule had left to help Big Mom. It's mean, and he feels guilty for bringing it up, but Shanks invested himself into your happiness the moment you told him that he and his crew were welcome back to your island.

“I don't have to explain my actions to you,” Mihawk sets his empty glass away, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms over his chest, “Besides, you have no right to judge any of what I do.”

Shanks is an emperor for a reason. He answered to no one, and while he wasn't a monster like Kaido or Big Mom, the redhead had skeletons in his closet like everyone else. He raises his hand in surrender, reluctantly agreeing with Dracule on the subject.

“Does she know about it?” Shanks pressed, and his brows shot up in surprise when the warlord sniffed and looked away from him. Shanks narrows his eyes, disbelief thick in his tone, “You really haven't told her?”

“No, and I have no plans of doing so, either. Why should I bring up painful memories when she doesn't even remember what happened to her?” Dracule draws and crosses his legs like he has done no wrong in the world, “It's best that she never finds out.”

“Oh, that way she can't get upset with you and tell you to leave,” Shanks summarizes and nods like it makes all the sense in the world, but Mihawk can see the tension in his smile and the sarcastic way he slaps his knee, “Smart man, Mihawk, keeping that away from someone you love.”

“I do not love her. She interests me, and we have a mutually beneficial relationship,” Mihawk snaps at the redhead. Panic had swept through him the second Shanks had dropped the L word. Dracule Mihawk loved nothing in this world. He only invested his time into interesting subjects, and you were the most mysterious by far.

Shanks snorts in amusement, eyes rolling skyward at how stubborn his old friend was. This song and dance were familiar, one that Shanks had the displeasure of knowing intimately. The Emperor can't keep the bitter tone out of his voice when he next speaks. Shanks can't help but want to be mean right now.

“Of course you don't,” He hums and sweeps his hand through his hair, leaving the red strands tussled, “Then you shouldn't have any problem with me wanting her, then, right? Since she just interests you.”

An image of Shanks and his angel curled up together in front of the fireplace in his home, you leaning into the bare chest of the redhead as he helps you sip from a shallow bowl of sake. He sees you pulling Shanks in for a kiss, a sweet one full of yearning.

The imagery has Dracule seething with a feeling he hasn't felt in longer than he would care to remember, though any normal person would call it jealousy. He sucks in a sharp breath and shuts his eyes, fighting to control his breathing and his growing annoyance. This insolence that Shanks wears like a second skin has always been able to set Mihawk off. How he once called this man more than a friend, Dracule didn't know.

Shanks smirks, self-satisfied at seeing the other man break even further at his scathing remarks. He thinks that Mihawk deserves it. He also thinks that the other man is a big idiot for not telling you about your past. That information belonged to you. You deserved to know about it.

“You will not touch her, Shanks,” Mihawk repeated, tone laced with finality. He was done with this sham of a conversation. He should have known that Shanks would push on this. The Emperor matched his own stubbornness.

“I won't do anything that _ doesn't want,” Shanks snapped right back, dark eyes narrowed on the other man. Dracule wasn't the only one tired of this back-and-forth. He softened after half a second, shoulders relaxing as he leaned forward and rested his upper body on the table between them.

“I'm not trying to take her away from you, Dracule. I want to help you keep her safe, but I'm not doing it for free,” Shanks murmurs, and Mihawk sighs heavily when he feels defeat creeping in. He does not want to admit that Shanks makes nothing but good points. Mihawk may not trust the other pirate, not any longer, but it could have been someone far more ill-mannered than the laid-back Emperor.

“I want you to tell me when you will visit her island. I want your word that this is for her, Shanks. That you are not just doing this to spite me. That you aren’t going to run away from her like you’re known to do” Mihawk demands, and leans forward, voice dropping and becoming deadly, “Swear it to me.”

The warlord is bringing up the past. A gamble, but it gets the younger man’s attention, and Dracule feels a dark satisfaction rip through him when Shanks sits up straight and looks at him in surprise, though hurt swims in his dark eyes.

Mihawk knows how much he is giving in and giving up with this, but your happiness and your safety mean more to him than little else. He would have to contend with Shanks for your attention, and he despises the hurt and anxiety that curdled in his stomach at the thought of you leaving him for the redhead. Shanks was nothing but selfish, a problem that Mihawk knew too well. Dracule didn’t want to have to share you with the other man, but this wasn’t about him. If you wanted Shanks around, then the warlord would not keep him away.

Shanks meets his golden gaze, any trace of humor or teasing attitude gone from his expression, and he offers Dracule his hand. He thinks back to a time before none of this would ever be necessary, a time when he and Mihawk trusted one another explicitly, and the Emperor dearly wishes for that closeness. Shanks wonders if the older man ever wants the same, “I swear that this is for _.”

Dracule eyes the hand that is placed in front of him. An old tension had settled in the back of his mind, one that Mihawk hadn’t felt in well over twenty years when the two of them had been far closer. He feels that tension shimmer between them, and Shanks’ hand is familiar and warm when Mihawk finally takes it.

Shanks curls his hand tight around his old friends, holding on far longer than necessary just to feel the heat of Mihawk’s palm against his own. He grins when he catches sight of the dusting of red on the Hawk’s cheeks when he extracts his hand. While there is still much to hash out between the two of them, the air has settled, and their haki smooths along one another as if greeting an old friend. Shanks leans forward, eyes mischievous, “Let’s have another drink, Hawkeye. My treat.”

Dracule hears that little voice in his head again, though this time it matches the troublesome tone that lingers in Shanks’ voice, but Mihawk finds himself listening to it once again as he leans back in the creaky bench and crosses his legs.

“Get me something better this time.”

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax

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lilyveselka · 3 months

Text

On Jack Bright (An Exhaustive Perspective) [Edited 2/19/2024 w/ additional evidence!]

A couple disclaimers before I start: First, this isn't an "official stance." It's an explanation of my personal views; I speak for myself alone. Second, I'm not setting out to change people's minds or moralize to them; I just want to explain & respond to some common arguments in the fan space.

Third & finally, massive content warning for explicit discussions of grooming & sexual abuse. This includes screenshots. (I assume everyone is aware of this going in, but better safe than sorry!!)

Q: Why do you care so much, anyway?

A: Not your business, but I was groomed as a teenager in a very similar manner to the whole AB situation. Ok, on to the actual questions.

Q: First things first: Was AB/Duckman a groomer?

A: Yes, pretty definitively. First of all, DMs from one of their victims (who was underage while they were in contact; AB was aware of this fact).

[ID in alt text]

Maybe anonymous allegations aren't solid proof -- of course, there are public victims, but there are also screenshots of AB themself "joking" about being a sexual predator.

Straight up saying they want nudes from 14 year olds.

With the context of the first message -- the punchline is molesting/"corrupting" people who are underage (which they've publicly stated is a fetish of theirs)

This one just kind of... speaks for itself, I think?

[And again, ID in alt text for all these.]

These aren't the only examples, by the way -- just the most blatant. AB also explicitly wrote their interest in underage girls into tales on the actual wiki. Examples include the famed list, which implied Bright shouldn't be around people underage because he would come onto them (and that's without mentioning the blatant racism on there), as well as a now-deleted tale called 'Money, Money, Money' that involved in-depth description of a 13-year-old's breasts.

[Correction: my mistake, the tale was called 'Doctor, Doctor, Doctor.' You can find it here without the overtly sexual description of a child's body — it took 8 years (!!) for AB to remove these passages. Here's the original:

Highlighted in blue is the original edit history showing the article's content. Additionally, here's AB defending this on the talk page:

In addition to this, there's also AB requesting an artist draw incestuous rape porn — personally I find this far less heinous than a lot of the other stuff they've done, but I figure it deserves a place here too.

(iamnotadamnedmonkey is AB's old Tumblr handle, sorry for the poor quality screenshot!)

All new images also have alt text.]

Q: But AB is just the author. Why is the character bad?

A: A couple reasons. First of all, the character reflects a lot of AB's sexual proclivities, including towards underage characters, as I already mentioned in the previous point.

Second, Bright's popularity gave AB their social standing within the community. There are a few chat logs where they brag about people wanting to have sexual relations with them because of their work on the SCP wiki; also, it's pretty clear that creating something popular gives you access to a lot more people who are interested in talking to you.

When you manipulate fans wanting to talk to you into sexual relationships, it's pretty clear that you have the ability to access victims because your name is out there.

Thirdly, AB used Bright's amulet as a possession kink thing and would ask for nudes that had it visible. (And, you know, they solicited a lot of regular nudes too. What a great guy, who would totally never use their platform for their own sexual pleasure...)

Q: Right, but AB's not on the wiki anymore...

A: AB's publicly-spoken victims have politely requested that the character not be used anymore. Bright was used as a tool to access, manipulate, and engage in sexual contact with fans who were young and in some cases under the age of majority. Therefore, continuing to use Bright is disrespectful to their victims. Personally speaking, I also consider it to be disrespectful towards victims of grooming and/or sexual abuse as a whole.

Q: So you think people who still use Bright are bad people?

A: No, I don't.

Like I said, I think they're being pretty blatantly disrespectful. But I'm not the arbiter of morality or the censorship bureau. People can do what they want as long as it is appropriately tagged for.

However, the fact is this: if someone is publicly continuing to use Jack Bright, then they are doing something that goes against my values -- because my values involve supporting and respecting victims of sexual abuse.

I, personally, will not be comfortable speaking to them or seeing them in my internet space, and I'll probably lose a lot of respect for them if I had any in the first place. And since I consider my community to be a group of people who reflect my personal values and beliefs, I also do not and will never consider people who use Bright to be "part of my community."

You don't have to be a bad person to be doing something wrong, and I'll level with you: yes, I think promoting a known sexual offender & ignoring the requests of their victims is, in fact, doing something wrong. That's fine! You're allowed to do stuff that's 'wrong,' I'm not your mommy and I'm not going to call the thought police on you. But you should be comfortable with the fact that you're doing something that is going to upset other people. Using Bright will and does hurt other people, and that is not something that you can ignore.

I don't think anyone should be harassed. Obviously. I've received plenty of harassment for heading the rewrite project, and it sucks no matter who you are.

But I think people should get a little more comfortable with owning their decisions, instead of trying to argue that those decisions don't actually have any weight or consequences.

Q: But I can't control using Bright! [I have an introject of Bright/I have a DA to Bright] and it's not fair to act like I'm doing something wrong!

A: Sorry. Mental illness doesn't make you exempt from your actions having an impact on the people around you. I'll probably be more understanding if it's related to a mental health issue, but, y'know.

You don't have to do it in public. If you genuinely don't want to be hurting or upsetting other people, then you should keep your discussion of the Jack Bright character to private spaces, because otherwise you're still doing the thing you were respectfully asked not to do.

(I'm a system, just for reference. I understand. It doesn't absolve you of consequences.)

Q: I don't actually care about [your feelings/the victims' feelings], so this doesn't apply to me.

A: Cool. You can very easily block me, AB's victims, and anyone else who is vocally against using Bright. That's, uh, the point of the block button.

Q: I have something else to say that you didn't put in this post.

A: If you feel like being respectful or you have a genuine question, please direct yourself to the replies/reblogs/my inbox. If you don't, then please refer to my previous response. If you're blocked so you can't contact me, then, uh... don't contact me?

Ok, that's all my points made. Have the day you deserve, and hopefully it's a good one ❤️

#scp 963 #jack bright #talkin #cw grooming

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bordysbae · 1 year

Note

can u do a luca blurb where there’s like an argument and it’s like luca and his gf vs someone else and it’s the two like sticking up for each other? i hope that makes sense

“a new side of you”

luca fantilli x f!reader

warning: profanity and underage drinking

despite the ending of frozen four not being what everyone was hoping, the boys still threw themselves a party as soon as they got back to michigan, just because of how far they had made it. it’s also a party to say their “formal” goodbyes to the seniors, and the boys who won’t be returning next year due to upcoming signings with the big league.

the party isn’t a rager, but it sure isn’t small either. there are people everywhere, but the only person you care to find is your boyfriend luca. you got caught up in a conversation with johnny while luca went to get another drink, not even realizing luca hadn’t come back in quite some time. you eventually find him in a conversation with one of his classmates. you’ve met the guy before but he’s nothing special. in your opinion he has a bland personality and thrives off of his daddy’s money, but since he’s friends with a few of the guys, you almost always see him at parties.

“jonah, hey!” you greet him, as luca wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“oh hey, y/n right?” jonah nods his head towards you as his form of addressing you.

“uh, yeah,” you say, annoyed by him already. you know he knows your name since you guys have met over five times, but he chooses to have a douche bag persona. “not like we haven’t met already” you mumble under your breath making luca chuckle.

“what’d you say?” jonah asks you, straightening his back. you look up from your cup at him, and chuckle at his new tough-boy stance.

“nothing, what were you guys talking about before i got here? i didn’t mean to interrupt,” you say in an attempt to change the topic.

“no, fucking tell me what you said,” jonah blurts out, startling both you and luca.

“dude relax. i didnt even say anything, chill out man,” you scoff.

“someone’s on their period. control your woman fantilli,” jonah jokes. your mouth falls agape at his statement.

“what did you just say to me? i’m on my what?”

“you heard me,” jonah chuckles before taking a sip of his drink.

“watch your fucking mouth douchebag. don’t fucking say that shit about my girlfriend! especially right in front of her or me,” luca starts up.

“oh it was a joke relax, you can’t even talk like you’re some big guy anyways! you warm the bench, and you guys lost in the frozen four. just chill out luca you’re not some hotshot,” jonah exclaims. your mouth falls agape, and lucas whole body tenses up.

before you can even think, your mouth just starts running, “oh you wanna talk about hot shots? you thrive on daddy’s money and think everyone is in love with you. newsflash, just because you never went d1 for hockey after high school, doesn’t mean being friends with the team makes you important. honestly, they all think you’re a dick. and so what if luca doesn’t get the absolute most playing time? he still went d1, unlike someone else in this conversation”

luca chuckles at your words, and this makes jonah even more pissed. “you think i’m gonna listen to you? don’t you have a fucking nail appointment to go to?”

“jonah you sound like an idiot. pulling out misogynistic ‘insults’ like that’s gonna do anything? just accept the fact you’re in the wrong, it’ll be the only good thing you ever did. notice how i’m the one in a relationship, and you can barely get a girl in your bed unless she’s intoxicated? which by the way is horrible in itself, but that’s a conversation for another time. just go home bud.” luca declares.

despite the topic of conversation, you can’t help yourself but be attracted to this side of luca. you’ve never seen him act out this way, and him defending you like this is only making the attraction worse. the heavily intoxicated jonah flips you both off and makes his way back into the pool of people, leaving you and luca alone in the kitchen.

“that was a new side of you. i liked that” you admit, making luca blush ever so slightly.

“oh yeah?” he laughs, and pulls you closer to his body so that you’re now against his chest looking up at him.

“i’m sorry about that, he’s an asshole.” luca says to you softly but loud enough for you to hear over the music.

“no i’m sorry. he said some rude things about you babe, don’t listen to him he’s just jealous”

“eh, i don’t mind. i get enough chirping from adam anyways,” luca chuckles and kisses the top of your head. you both embrace each other a little bit more before heading back to the swarm of people throughout the rest of the house. you guys went back to luca’s dorm afterwards and spent the rest of the night in each others arms, never forgetting the moment you two shared tonight.

#luca fantilli #luca fantilli imagine #luca fantilli blurb #luca fantilli x reader #umich hockey #hockey imagine #hockey blurb #michigan hockey #l

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spookykoolkat · 8 months

Text

the red j.m. | chapter four

CHAPTER FOUR: NO GOOD

series masterlist | main masterlist |

previous chapter | next chapter

pairings: older!joel miller x plus sized!younger!reader

chapter summary: you've been in jackson for a month now and things are still a little rough. you haven't found the right crowd to fit into yet, and thought maybe you might have to settle for the family of four you already know, until you meet your patrol partner, tyler. unfortunately, joel doesn't seem to like the idea of you with any other man but him.

warnings: 18+ age gap (joel is 57, reader is turning 26), inappropriate thoughts, sexual language, teasing, touching, slight jealous!joel, x-rated descriptions, crude language, perv!joel, creepy!joel, mean joel not too mean tho, MDNI!!!

wc: 6.2k

na: HI! thank you for alllll of the love oh my god my little gothic heart is so full i love you guys!!! i hope this series is everything and more to you guys bc i love this so much! hopefully as chapters go by, i get better in my writing and hope everyone enjoys it! i appreciate all of your kind words and interactions with me and making me feel welcome since i am new to writing on tumblr and kind of took a six year break from writing oneshots/fanfictions LOL. anyways please enjoy this chapter things are g3tting a little hot and heavy :P I CANT WAITT i hope that my writing is cathartic for my big girls we do not get enough representation for us in stories and writings!please enjoy! smut coming soon fr fr LMFAOO

i appreciate all reblogs, likes and comments feel free to do any one of those things or ALL! if u think its deserved :P

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DECEMBER 21ST, 2024

YOU

you’ve been in jackson for a month now. you couldn’t believe it, you truly had every doubt about staying even a week. but, it’s probably the calmest life you’ve lived in a very long time. you enjoyed it and you truly felt you’d made the right decision, it didn’t take much convincing either. but, you still haven’t unpacked the items maria gave you and continues to give you. just in case.

the neighbors are learning your name, as you are with them, and they actually care. as much as you let them. you felt quite bad because you found yourself still not clicking with anyone around you. and you’ve tried. the people your age find you boring, almost a dark cloud over them, bursting their bubbles. younger kids only approach you because of ellie, asking for advice on stance and grip. the older group, around tommy and joel’s age, finds you a bit much.

your language, your lack of social awareness–sometimes it gets embarrassing. saying something old heads wouldn’t necessarily like, being too blunt and a little explicit. joel figured you should hang around your age group, yet you didn’t really click in with the rest. he was far from embarrassed being around you, you just said the things he was thinking out loud.

you only found yourself clicking with joel. in many ways, as much as he let you. he was standoffish most of the time, barely cracking a smile at your weird habits and the noises you make when you’re passed out on the couch. he refused to let you break him, this wall that he had up to survive. do not get attached. he thought, maybe the less he knew you the less it’d hurt to have anything happen to you. but it seems even as little as he does know you, he’s still feeling that tug at his heart laying his eyes on you.

it was too late. whoops.

joel doesn’t want to address that feeling, and he doesn’t want to call it as it is. he actually cares about you. he had no choice but to call it that, because why else would he lie to you about finding cassettes in the house?— so that you didn’t know what he really did to get you whatever he could get his hands on.

he didn’t want you to know that he actually smuggled in goods that he and his family needed, and while bribing, stealing, trading and selling for necessities, he made it a mission to find at least one cassette tape for you. he didn’t know you actually saw him red handed, and you still didn’t know where those boxes were coming from. he figured if you knew, you’d bring it up.

he made it his mission for two whole weeks, after your first week of staying with him, and finally got his hands on some actual music for you. joel hadn’t made efforts like this in a long time, and he knew that denying the fact that he at least cared for you would mean he was being delusional.

but he was always worried about you. you were his object of affection and he craved to find a way to get you out of his mind. he actually felt guilty for thinking about you in ways you’ve probably never been before, he felt guilty for wanting nothing but to make you feel good—however that was.

you doubted it strongly of course, shaking the feeling off as your own delusion and insanity, but you always hoped. hoped that maybe his generosity and southern hospitality was actually him caring about you in a different way, but he was a grown man. you tried to off yourself in front of him–you were insane to think he’d even look at you as anything but a liability, he hardly looked your way as it was.

at least you thought so.

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joel paid attention to every single thing he sees and hears. he doesn’t show it, he doesn’t acknowledge it—all he does is observe. some more than others.

you didn’t talk to him unless he talked to you, you kept your distance like he wanted, but somehow he knew everything that was going on. he didn’t have to talk to you to know you, and that’s what he was ashamed of. he watched you.

he was a creep, he felt like someone who was abnormal and making things weirder than they had to be. he was studying you and you didn’t even know. he picked up on what made you smile, which cassettes you listened to the most, which just so happened to be the ones he was ‘holding on to.’ and in the midst of observing you, he checked you out any time he got.

when you weren’t looking mostly, but even sometimes when you were talking to him about something not so important. he realized that if you did see that his eyes wandered over you, you were probably gaslighting yourself into thinking he wasn’t doing exactly what you thought he was doing. he loved your body. and he loved the way you dressed your body, the way the shirts you wore always clung to your heavy breasts, how even when you dressed in baggy clothes he still wanted to ruin you like that.

sick. you’re a sick old pervert, ya kno’ that? he knew. what joel didn’t know is why you made him feel this way, why you drove him to do the things that he does for you. why he acted feral every time you bent over, why he would storm out of the room when you got on your hands and knees to pick something you dropped up off the floor.

but he also studied you because he wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling how you felt the night you woke up in jackson, to make sure you weren’t feeling depressed or like you didn’t want to be here anymore. just talk to her fucker. he couldn’t. he would never admit it, but he’s eavesdropped near ellie’s garage to hear conversations between the two girls.

“ellie, i mean it, you cannot tell joel.” you hushed as you glanced towards the door, back to ellie.

she scoffed. “like i’d tell him, lay it on me.” you noticed the irritation in her eyes when you brought up joel, asking yourself if maybe there was something that wasn’t being said. you just put a pin in it.

“okay. one, i’m finally allowed a gun and i got my patrol route.” you cheered in a hush and joel almost pressed his ear into the door.

ellie rolled her eyes, grabbing the piece of paper. “no fucking fair. good looks, telling me bad news first. what’s two?” she joked.

“i met my patrol partner. his name’s uh, tyler? i think. yeah,” you looked down and nodded, assuring yourself. joel made it a note to tell ellie how thin her walls were, not right now though.

“tyler… tyler m?” joel thought of every man in this town named tyler with the letter M as his last name. instantly made a mental list of five tylers.

“i don’t know. but he asked me for a drink. tonight, he was gonna meet me here but i told him i’d meet him there. lesson number 5, always have a way to leave anywhere you are if you need to.” you said. you figured it’d be best to teach her as much as you could, telling her things she needed to hear to survive.

that’s how joel knew immediately what was happening when he heard your soft singing from your cracked door. you were getting ready for him. he actually hated it. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt that heat in his chest, biting the tongue—it wasn’t until his face turned down into the old familiar feeling, what he recognized as jealousy.

who was he to be jealous? for what? it was a saturday night, most people were off of work, and everyone was settling in the town’s circle to drink and watch movies. everyone but joel. he was now classified as a bitter old man, with a dark whiskey in his glass. maybe now a bitter, creepy old man as he knocks slightly on the cracked door and you invite him in.

you were fixing the laces on your shoes, simple black converse, and his eyes made his way up from there to your face. a deep v neck shirt that looked like a second skin from how tight it was, and faded black jeans with tiny holes from being lived in that hugged the fat of your thighs. he never noticed the gold dainty necklace that sat in the middle of your chest, but it sits right between the curves of your breasts. were they always that big? he felt like a kid, ogling and asking stupid questions.

“hellooo? joel?” you called to him as you rested your palms on the width of your thighs. he saw your lips, coated in a sheen and your hair split down the middle instead of being in a pony tail or bun. creepy old man. you’re being creepy joel!!! he shook his head.

“headin’ to the circle?” he asked. if he were close enough you could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“yeah i-,” you thought for a minute. joel didn’t trust the next person as much as you did. you saw his protectiveness through ellie, you felt maybe he’d feel the same for you. even if you were a bit delusional.

“-was gonna catch a movie with ellie, most likely be back around 12.” you said as you glanced at the clock, 9:32.

“‘s that right?” he said suggestively, like he knew something you didn’t. he did.

“yeah. that’s right,” you stood firm, even shot him a dirty look. “why don’t you enjoy the night, joel. you got the house to yourself, ain’t that what you’ve been mopin’ around for?” you stood up and grabbed your gun to put in your waistband behind your shirt, sticking a knife in your high top converse and one in your jean pocket.

maybe you got too defensive, but you were right in a way. he looked miserable around the house, storming in just to grab a beer and lock himself in the library or room.

“that’s right,” he was just smug. so smug you couldn’t stand it, you wanted to slap him.

“whatever joel,” you wanted to be right so bad. you wanted to prove to even yourself that you were right. but neither of you were buying into this act you played, and you knew it. he was making you nervous with his stare, the hard shell you had was practically ripped off of you when he grabbed your wrist before you left the room. he held you, shoulder to shoulder and looked at your face, down your neck and to your chest.

“if you need anythin’, you let me know darlin’.” darlin’? it was so foreign to you, so alien that you didn’t even have time to process it before your mouth moved to say a small alright and taking your arm from his grip. when you did, it was cold and you could feel the print of his hand around your wrist down the stairs.

it was so different, something that leaked off of his words when he spoke to you. and you wanted to hear more of it, explore that with him.

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before you could psych yourself out of going through the bar’s doors, you heard someone call for your name and turned your head to the left to see tyler, walking towards you with a big grin on his face. tyler was just two years older than you, someone you met while you were in combat and patrol classes, and didn’t acknowledge until he approached you, re-introducing himself as your partner for the first two weeks. you couldn’t be cold and shoo him away, you just smiled and introduced yourself, really looking at him.

he was not joel miller. tyler’s skin wasn’t as tan as joel’s but he wasn’t pale, and he was actually a bit lanky even under the thick coats he layered. you noticed that his chest wasn’t as broad and strong as joel’s, hell his arms were smaller than yours. he was a skinny tall thing, while you were a bit short and thick everywhere. and when he embraced you lightly at the entrance of the bar, you just felt cold. no warmth, no comfort, you felt like you’d break him.

“hey, i was hoping you’d actually come.” he breathed in as he pulled away, still, it wasn’t feeling right.

“why wouldn’t i?”

“cause you’re out of my league,” he said with a seductive smile and you wanted to believe him. wanted to enjoy the night as it comes and maybe have a few drinks, talk. but your mind was on a bitter man who sat in a house all by his lonesome.

the thing about ‘dates’ now is that small talk doesn’t happen anymore. what’s your mom like? she’s dead actually. really? mine too! it was pointless. if you ended up here, you knew that you were alone.

it wasn’t long before you and tyler were sitting on two stools, side by side. your knees were in between his as the two of you talked, flirted, gave simple touches. you were having fun. doing what would seem normal at a bar, just enjoying the company of someone who actually liked you.

“how come you’ve never hung out with anyone else? i never see you with anyone.” he said, his fingers tapping on your knee.

“mmm, i’m just not for everyone.” you flirted, covering his fingers with yours. you knew this wasn’t going anywhere, but you’d like to live in it just a little longer. the touch of a man, someone who desired you even if it wasn’t how you wanted. something you started to crave from joel.

“maybe you’re just for me then?” he suggested, and you decided to just play into it. it was kind of hard not to when you were thinking of joel, you needed to act out on it.

“i doubt that, honey,” you said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. he smelled like tequila and grass, something not that appealing but you ignore it. you wanted something out of him tonight, because for some reason the words joel spoke to you kept ringing in your ears. if you need anything, you let me know darlin’. the words rumbled through your body and straight to your core, because if there’s anything you need he could definitely be of help.

you didn’t know how long you stayed at this bar, teasing and touching each other until you felt the ache in your core, aching for a touch that you’ve had once before. but you didn’t give a shit about purity or virginity, you wanted the ache gone and you knew tyler was the best bet.

“tyler,” you whispered in his ear as the bar started to empty.

“yes, beautiful?” he answered and slid his hand up your thigh.

“show me how good you are with your fingers, yeah?”

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he followed you back to joel’s, hand in hand as you turned the key to the house and softly opened the door to prevent the creaking. granted, you didn’t think this through, like everything else. maybe you should’ve gone to his. you cringed a bit, walking inside.

it was dark inside, nothing but the sizzle of a freshly put out fire. you put your fingers to your lips to shush him, taking him slowly upstairs and to your room. you couldn’t help but find yourself glancing at joel’s door, which is cracked open.

you finally made it to your room with the lanky man groping your body and trying to slither you out of your jeans, letting him.

“only want your fingers, okay? if not you can leave.” you established as you stood in your panties and tight shirt.

“fuck, yeah that’s okay,” tyler himself was craving a woman’s touch, he didn’t even care if he got off. he just wanted to see you, a woman’s body, to feel you.

“can i touch you? like anywhere?” he asked as he sat on the edge of your bed, his cock already hardened against his pants. it didn’t sound right coming from him. you wondered what it’d sound like with the texas twang you craved to hear from a certain man.

it still made your core twinge a bit, remembering the last time you were this vulnerable. you couldn’t lie, even if it wasn’t what you wanted, you fell in to the odd touch of the man desperately trying to touch you.

“anywhere. keep your dick in your pants, i’ll touch as i go if you want me to.” you moved over to him and crawled into your bed, and he slipped in next to you as he propped himself on his elbow to look at you.

“you’re so pretty, really.” he said, genuinely and you smiled. your stomach even fluttered a bit. it’s been a long time hearing that, hearing desire.

“touch me, please.”

tyler took his time, a little more than you’d liked but he was busy distracted with the way your tits pushed up to your chin, like you were suffocating. touching and teasing, his touch felt good but it still didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel heartstopping. maybe you’re expecting too much.

but he didn’t talk to you when he dipped his hand in your panties, you just heard his whimpers and panting as he rutted his hard on into the side of your fat thigh, barely focused on you. you weren’t feeling it anymore, your wetness wasn’t even directed towards him really. everything you did with him was what you wanted to do with joel. you weren’t interested anymore and it started to feel wrong, it never felt good because tyler wasn’t worried about you. just his nut, and you didn’t like that. you didn’t like to feel used.

“okay, wait, wait—i said wait!” you said and grabbed his wrist, pulling it from your panties and moving off of the bed.

“wait, fuck i’m sorry, i was just so, fuck i’m so sorry.” he said a bit loudly, and you swore you heard a creak in the hallway as you moved to the door.

“it’s okay, i just, i’m not–i’m tired. i think you should go.” you said, hugging your arm as he adjusted himself in his pants and got up.

“i’m sorry, i,-” he tried again and you waved him off.

“it’s done and forgotten, you didn’t do anything you were just really into it. i wasn’t.” you were careful with your words, not as tough as you would be because you’re vulnerable. but he wouldn’t get far if he hurt you, you knew that.

“i’m sorry, goodnight. can we kind of like, forget this?” he asked rubbing the back of his neck and you softly laughed.

“forget what?” you smiled and he returned it, giving a small kiss on the cheek before he left. he was a nice man, a good kid, and he meant no harm. he didn’t need a ruthless beating or yelling, just needed to tell him it wasn’t meant to be. you couldn’t shake the feeling of how wrong it was, how wrong it felt being tyler touching you.

you knew who you wanted to touch you. as sweet and kind and charming tyler was, he wasn’t what you wanted. the man you wanted was across the hall from you, on the other side of the stairs. sleeping, maybe.

you knew ellie was at a friends house doing only god knows what, so with the hope in mind that joel was asleep in his room, you trotted downstairs braless, and bottomless. you were still in the same tight shirt you left in, but now just in the pink panties that were apart of the gifts maria got you. just new/traded clothing you needed. the shirt hugged you and cut off at the dip of your curve, the fat of your tummy slightly protruding between the shirt and your panties.

you didn’t look towards the fireplace where the sofas were, instead you grab a small cup and let faucet water pour into it, taking a drink.

“work up a sweat?” a deep southern voice said behind you, from a distance. you jumped at the sudden break of silence and turned quickly to the sofas.

“joel? what the fuck,” you breathed and stepped out to walk to the sofas. somehow, you completely disregarded the fact that all you had on was a shirt and panties, standing in joel miller’s living room.

“what made you think it was a bright idea to invite a bastard in my home like that? not only that,” he said. you finally saw the light from outside shining on his face as he stood up, something glimmering in his hand. a gun. “but letting him touch all over you? that prick?”

you had a lot to say, a lot to yell out. but the only thing to say was a snarky comment. “you know he called you the same thing.”

which, he did. but you were too drunk on the flirting and drinks to care or to know why, even though you already knew. joel wasn’t nice to anyone but ellie. tommy and maria even think he’s an asshole, but that’s tommy’s brother and maria’s brother in law. he’s family. but there were things that you didn’t know about joel miller. things he didn’t want you to know either.

“why do you even care? who’s touching me, i mean.” you scoff, feeling less embarrassed about your state of clothing. but being a lot more aware as he steps closer and closer to your curvy figure, putting his gun in the waistband of his sweatpants.

he was intimidating like this. towering over you with his fists clenched, searching your face for something. you felt your heartbeat pick up as his eyes raked over you and fell on your lips. he was drunk off of you, the sight of your fat cunt only being clothed by a single piece of fabric drove him to dig his nails in his palms. the nakedness of your thighs, and the midriff showing—it was going to kill him.

“if you’re gonna fuck these town folk, make sure it ain’t in my house.” he spit, and you just rolled your eyes. you felt like you were in trouble for sneaking out, like a teenager.

“i didn’t fuck anyone. we didn’t do anything. he wanted to, i didn’t.” you defended, feeling small now but still holding yourself tall.

joel just looked at you, not wondering if you were lying or not. he knew you weren’t, he heard it himself the minute he heard something bang against your wall. it was just you shuffling to get up, and he heard you consoling him. you weren’t satisfied.

“why’d you lie to me? bout’ seein’ him tonight?” he asked, your head tilted up to his as he steps one step closer. your chest is almost touch his, and your breathing was getting heavier.

“figured you wouldn’t trust him,” you said, sounding like you wanted to say something else but keeping it to yourself.

he was watching you like you were his prey. like you were something he wanted to take and devour for himself, like you were something for his eyes only.

“smart girl,”

“he touch you wrong?” he couldn’t help but ask, the curiosity killing him slowly as time passes with you standing in front of him with your tight pink panties on. he looked down between the two of you and saw the hardened pebbles that were your nipples showing up through your black tight shirt, down to your tummy that was pressed against his. he liked the softness of your belly, he was practically dying to grip it himself. he wanted to grip every part of you, to palm your pussy and feel how warm you were in his grip. he even found himself hating his own mind as thought of what your pussy would look like sucking him in.

“i, he,” you were stuttering, embarrassing yourself as his hand trailed up your arm, thinking of all the ways he could watch you take his cock for him.

you watched him watch you. how his eyes went dark again, how there was a slight touch of possessiveness in his voice. you didn’t assume though.

“can’t find the words, hm? he wasn’t makin’ you feel good?” he asked softly, watching as you closed your eyes and breathed through your mouth, opening again to see a small grin playing on his lips, his head tilted to the side. his fingers barely left your wrist, and made their way to your fleshy hip, tapping against the bare skin. he was enjoying this. making you squirm. making you nervous.

“fuck off, joel,” you meant it to come out a lot stronger than it did, even you thought you sounded needy. “s’ none of your damn business,” you spit, stronger this time.

and before you could even wallow in your retorts, a smile tugged very faintly at his lips. you weren’t so convincing when you were practically trying to pull him to your body with your fists buried in his sweater. he appreciated the effort though, he's never met someone with as much bite in their bark as you.

he just liked to watch you writhe for him. you wanted to whine with how eager you were for him, how mean he was being to you for no reason. you needed him.

“it’s like you’re not even tryin’, what’s the matter? do i make you nervous sweetheart?” he gleamed in his power over you, the way your eyes searched for him and your mouth parted, just for him. he wanted to ruin you in every way. ruin every man for you, show you how to truly be taken care of.

"go fuck yourself," you retorted and he actually laughed. and he laughed at you. a sudden heat rushed to your cheeks, embarrassment filling you.

“i didn’t tell you but,” he paused as he leaned into your ear, grazing his cheek against yours and smiling to himself, “you looked real pretty today, ya know that? you look even prettier like this, all flustered for me.”

you had to be dreaming. had to have gone to sleep after tyler left, and this was your wet dream making up for it. there was no way you were this exposed to joel and he was practically pressed up against your body as he told you how pretty you looked. you couldn’t speak, your tongue was tied and joel smiled to himself as he realized he got you to shut up.

“would ya let me touch you, sweet girl? maybe you'd be nicer if someone knew how to touch you,” he asked, his fingers playing on your hip.

you still couldn’t answer. it felt like a trap, like if you let yourself give in to his words, every guard you put up was pointless. you were frozen, and suddenly felt insanely vulnerable but his voice was so inviting, so impossible to not fall into.

“touch me where?” you asked, treading lightly. you wanted to hear it, you wanted him to tell you he wanted you as bad as you wanted him. you wanted to prove to yourself that you hadn't lost your mind yet. but you also wanted to stretch whatever this was as long as possible before you find yourself on your knees for him without even asking.

joel felt like he was out of his body. like he was watching you squirm and move under his presence from above. he was so distracted by how hard your nipples were rubbing against him that he didn’t even notice your fists balled into his shirt, trying to take him in closer. maybe it was the alcohol he drank to ignore the jealousy he felt, or maybe it was the fact that tommy came to tell joel about the boy you were seeing. how the two of you were practically on top of each other before he left, how he was touching you in public–he was angry.

nothing was done, nothing more than joel grabbing your almost bare hip and you tugging on his shirt, but it still felt like something that was crossing a line. a line you wanted to cross.

until he got the courage to grab the hand that was buried in his sweater, taking it in his own and touching you with your hand. he was answering your question. his hand ghosted on top of yours as his eyes watched your eyes train on the sight between the two of the bodies, enjoying how soft and pink you look. you were hot and bothered, and he could get used to seeing you like this.

“first place i’d touch you, baby,” he breathes, his lips practically against your cheek now. he was breathing you in, drinking you in, “is right here,”

his hand guided you to cup your mound, angry that it wasn’t his hand touching you. your breath was shaky while you watched him, your eyes flickering from his moving hand to his eyes, and every time he made sure your eyes latched onto his. he wanted you to know how much he was enjoying teasing you like this, he wanted you to remember the way he looked at you while you panted against him.

“but like this, lemme show you ‘xactly how i’d touch you sweetheart,” he was lost, drunken only on you, ignoring the world around him. “don’t think that boy would be enough for a woman like you, ain’t that right?"

he took his own hand as you were still pressed against his front, his lips now teasing the skin of the crook of your neck and starting to pull your panties away from your skin to dip his hand inside. your breathing was uneven and your soft whimpers were getting louder the more he trailed down into your underwear, and he was loving them.

the second he felt the scruff of your unshaved mound, he heard you release a shaky, sexy breath, and he grew harder against your bare abdomen. even feeling the heat of your skin on his clothed cock made him want to get on his knees and worship you.

"needy little fuckin' thing, that desperate for me huh? you gonna let me feel this pretty pussy how i want?"

he was so fucking filthy. so filthy for someone who hasn't even seen you naked, so filthy for someone who didn't even talk to you before this. it was agonizing, you were melting into his harsh words and wanted to listen to him make you feel small like this all night.

"joel, i swear," you warned as his breath hit your lips with his eyes on yours.

you had a bush, he thought to himself. he really didn’t think that would turn him on of course, but now he pictured you standing in front of him, bottomless. how your belly would look with your curves, the way your breasts would rest at their natural position, your thighs fat and wide all for him, and the pretty fat mound waiting for him to feel and taste. worst time to think all of that of course, because it sent a flood of blood and excitement to his groin, giving him another thing to be nervous about. but god did he want to see it, see all of you laid in his bed, and tugging on the thatch of hair on your mound. he was fucked.

and god forbid you figured out that he’s been picturing you bent and folded in every way just so he could reach to the back of your cervix, if you figured out that his anger towards you is pent up sexual frustration because every time you’re in the shower, he’s thinking of the way you looked lathered in soap, waiting for him to join you. he was a sick man to think of you like this, but all of his desires and fantasies were threatening to barge in, to unleash all of his wants and needs to you.

he was fighting himself to be a respectable man, a man who doesn’t think of women who were young enough to be his own kid in ways that were sinful. he shouldn’t be wanting to fill your throat with his cock when you smart mouth him. he was losing whoever he thought was himself, and letting heart and cock do his thinking.

you couldn't think right, nothing was processing as you felt the heat of his hand on your cunt. you felt another wave of pleasure hit you and suddenly, you could feel your wetness pooling for him in your panties. you had a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that joel actually wanted you too, even if he wanted to put you in your place for once and shut you up.

you didn't care how he wanted you. you were a bitch, but you were desperate for him.

"mmm, you're real scary, baby, threats ain't gettin' you anywhere. you have t' beg me for my fingers," he teased, rubbing the hair on your mound.

"oh fuck off, i'm not begging you for shit," you're putting up a fight with yourself, and you were winning. at leadt you thought so. even if you were letting him touch you this way, you weren't goping to beg him or give him the pleasure of watching you submit to him.

"yeah? maybe i'll jus' make ya," he grinned, his sinister smile forming while he rested his forehead on yours, his hand inside your panties as the two of you watched him tease your lips.

the second joel’s finger moves from your hairy mound to the fat lips of your cunt to spread and feel just how much you ached for him, to tease your hole so you'd be sent into a fit of desperation, the two of you heard the doorknob jiggle and a loud laugh from the outside, meaning it was ellie. joel pulled his hand and body away quickly and nodded upstairs with a hard look, giving you the hint to go before ellie saw you in your panties.

your face expressed everything to him, you needed him. and you didn’t want to let go. he watched as you walked up the stairs, your ass practically eating up the fabric of your panties. it left nothing to the imagination and he groaned, something you swore you heard, before he fixed himself in his pants.

ellie walked in, and you stayed at the top of the stairs out of sight to hear the lecturing.

“are you outta your damn mind, ellie? it’s three in the mornin’,” his paternal instincts were coming out, and you smiled.

“i was down the street. relax, i just didn’t want to stay there.” ellie defended as she slipped her shoes off.

“did somethin’ happen? are you hurt?” he asked quickly, examining ellie to see if he saw blood or cuts anywhere.

“jeez, no joel lay off. why are you up anyways isn’t it like six hours past your bedtime?” she scoffed, annoyed at the father figure lecturing her right now. what was he gonna tell her?

“was waitin for your friend to come home, so i can lock up before bed,” he lied. he was lying and you knew it. you came home an hour ago, and he was still up.

“you’re in love aren’t ya? old man,” ellie teased. her demeanor was a little more playful than she’d been this last month and he shook his head annoyed, but to you it was silent. your lips pinched into a thin line as you heard joel grunt.

“go to be ellie. now.” he ordered and she rolled her eyes, saying her good nights and going to the garage to sleep in her space.

a part of you wanted joel to come upstairs, into your room and to do everything he wanted to do. you didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do, but with the touching and flirting he was doing, it seemed like he wanted you. maybe he was drunk, you could smell it on his breath! he seemed pretty sober talking to ellie. you cursed yourself as you moved quietly to your room, leaving the door cracked open just in case.

but nothing. you heard him trudge up the stairs, and walk directly the opposite direction into his own room. you were frustrated at this point. sexually frustrated if you must say, and the ache in your core was not leaving any time soon.

you felt embarrassed, and you felt like joel was toying with you. all of the sudden this comes up and he's trying to finger fuck you in the living room when you genuinely thought he didn't even acknowledge your mere existence. it was so confusing for you, but the only thing you knew for sure now after a few weeks of deciding is that you craved joel miller.

it was a weird feeling. only because growing up in an apocalyptic world as a teenager and a young adult meant your chances of love and relationships were slim to none, at least for you. but you met joel in times where you had given up already.

as you lied in bed, wondering if joel was asleep or thinking about you too, you felt silly. you were setting yourself up for disaster by having hope that whatever this was with joel was more than that, and not just that. you worried you were getting ahead of yourself, maybe you were taking joel's advances too seriously. what if he just wants an easy fuck? nothing serious, something for pleasure in this dark world where everyone seeks a way to alleviate their pain

you felt like maybe you were geting into your head like you always do. maybe this could be good. maybe this could be your chance to let go, be vulnreable again, let someone make you feel like a teenager again. you had your fair share of crushes when you were in the QZ, you remembered that innocent feeling of liking someone, the shyness that came with it, how nervous you got around them. and with joel, you felt that times one hundred.

the flutters in your stomach, the goosebumps on your skin when he stands too close to you. he made you feel good even without trying.

but nothing good comes from joel miller.

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lilacsareinbloomagain · 8 months

Text

I'm not sure if you've seen the hype around sky being in his undershirt and being ✨pretty✨ in the recent update, but could I please request reader fawning over Yan!sky in his undershirt or some general hc's for him?

Thanks for requesting!

Notes: This is the actual request, but I'll post some headcannons later for him as well!

Anyways, I, in fact, wasn't around when the whole hype happened, however after a quick search I was able to actually see what all of this was about.

Idk if this can be considered self indulgent, but my immediate idea when it came to writing this was that the reader liked those types of clothes from pinterest. Hopefully I'm not the only one, but those types of clothes just scratch a very specific itch in my brain.

I did not plan for the random suggestiveness at the middle of this oneshot, actually, I never plan, this just came out somehow.

The headcannons!

TWs: Light yanderism, slightly suggestive, the Links being creeps and clothing thievery.

Yandere! LU! Sky x Reader

This is a robbery, not romantic.

The hot, rocky ground has absolutely no respect whatsoever for your shoes.

Out of all the places you had to walk to in the past, along with these guys, this volcano had to be on the top 3 of the worst places you've ever visited.

Walking up the volcano certainly had you sweating, however, you felt like the drops of sweat could barely reach the fabric of your undershirt before they evaporated due to the sheer heat. You weren't even halfway up the path yet, but your legs were already disagreeing with the rhythm the group had adopted to advance as fast as physically possiple. In short, you were slowing down everyone, since the Links refused to let you walk anywhere that wasn't in the middle of them, so that if anything happened, you'd be protected.

A was a distant memory of yours resurfaced in your brain, something about some discovery channel documentary you had watched a long time ago about elephants and how they kept the weaker elephants in the middle of the herd when traveling, the weak being youngins, elderly or sick elephants.

Frowning, you couldn't help but wonder in which category of weak you fell according to them.

Legend, who was staring keeping an eye on you through the whole trip, as he always did, noticed your struggle and elbowed Warriors, causing the man to let out a choked sound of surprise before Legend gestured to you with his thumb, scowling with his eyebrows furrowed, the same expression he always made sure to put on when something related to you in some way, covering up the softness of his eyes with a hard glare and a grimace.

Warriors, upon analyzing your stance for a second, was able to easily pick on how tired you were, and after taking into account how everyone else was, even if it wasn't as important as your well being, in the end he lifted his hand in a silent gesture for a break.

Nothing in that moment could rival or even equal to the feeling of fresh water coating your tongue and dry throat after so much of that burning sun and heat.

Your feet felt sore already, at this point it was like walking barefoot would be better than walking with those hard-soled boots. Then, you frowned once again, looking down to the bottom of one of your boots, it seemed like those boots were made for strolling on the soft grass, not hiking up a rocky mountain. Worst of all, the heat was so high you were sure you'd get burned as soon as your bare foot made contact with the ground outside the small cave you and the guys were sitting in, so you had no other option than just keeping the shoes on, even if you felt like the damn thing would just melt at some point.

Today, your mood had been dampened considerately, your face unable to catch a break from your constant sour expression. You felt as if you were Legend's replacement for a day.

After checking the really small cave and it's surroundings, the Chain finally seemed to deem it safe for now in a silent agreement between themselves. You were already sitting against some rock and letting the tension flow out of your body much before that.

Others joined you in sitting against rocks or the walls of the cave.

With a quick glance to Time, and a small amused scoff paired with a nod as response from the elder, Twilight was off most of his clothes, keeping only his bottom clothes on.

It was as if a domino effect had taken place, the rest of the Links around you began shedding their layers of clothing, the silence being disturbed by the sounds of fabric and other articles of their attire shuffling and eventually being either dropped or carefully placed on the floor, close enough to be quickly put back on incase something happened. Chatter began traveling around the group.

You had half the mind to move to do the same, your hands and eyes drifting down to the hem of your tunic, beginning to pull it up.

The chatter suddenly seemed to die down, only one voice still talking. Your hands paused when your mind registered the sudden almost silence, your eyes slowly drifting back up to glance around, noticing how everyone was just… Staring at you…

Even for someone oblivious, the hunger eagerness in their gaze was undeniable.

Naturally, your eyes searched for Time, seeking some kind of refuge, surely the elder would have something to say about this, right?

Wrong. Time's only functional eye was half lidded, trained on your form with the same desire interest apparent in his gaze, you felt like a mouse under the watchful gaze of a hawk, his head tilted as his cheek rested on his fist, the hints of a smug smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

This stare of his felt almost physically uncomfortable, unnerving in a way, like his glare, but worse.

Confusion settled over both you and Wind, who only now seemed to notice that despite all of his talking, he wasn't receiving any response. Looking up just as confused as you once were, his eyebrows furrowed as he traded baffled glances with you.

"What happened? Why the hell is everyone so quiet?" Wind asked, a confused pout settling on his features, his arms defensively crossed over his chest once he noticed the attention of the group was on you, he didn't like one bit how they were looking at you, his "I'm ready to throw hands" stance made that obvious.

The thought made you internally chuckle. Easing up the tension present in the cave as you let the fabric fall back over your tights, releasing it and giving up on the idea of taking it off. This seemed to finally awaken the others, making you grateful for Wind's brotherly protectiveness, your unease fading a bit as they went back to normally talking along with friendly bickering from Warriors regarding Wind's tense figure.

"Goddesses, I didn't remember Eldin Volcano being this hot!" Sky groaned from somewhere on your left, making you turn to look at him.

He still kept his undershirt on despite shedding all his other top layers, seemingly still too shy around you and the others to get that bare.

You took a moment to admire his shirt and how pretty it looked on him. You just had to take a picture of him in that shirt to post on pinterest later, such a sight surely belonged there.

That was for later though, you didn't have any signs of internet just yet.

"Who gave you the right." Your voice sounded more like an affirmation than a question, your face blank, void of any emotion as you uttered those words, leaving Sky unsure of how he should respond or even react, should he respond at all? The way you spoke confused him more often than not.

"Hah- Uhm… Hylia…? I am not sure I know what you are talking about exactly…" Shy responded slowly, stuttering a bit. The almost apologetic expression on his face made you want to both retreat and smother him with hugs, you know those moments when you find something so cute that you just want to squeeze it as hard as you can? That was how you felt right now.

Sky felt lightly threatened by your blank expression.

It was quite funny to you, his reactions. He'd hardly ever know how to respond to your kind of humor, but his awkward answers and bashful smiles made up for it, making you either grin along or just flat out laugh, as if he had actually responded correctly to whatever random stuff you had just sprouted with a fully straight face. Your reactions to his reactions made him feel embarrassed but also happy, very much glad your attention was on him.

"Who gave you the right to be so pretty?" Your eyes softened, your blank expression falling as a starry-eyed one took place, the way you were looking at him made his heart melt, warm blood being pumped up to his cheeks, a redness taking over his face and the tips of his ears, almost spreading to his neck. Sky was stunned into silence, he didn't even try to speak, he knew from past experiences that trying to speak in this state would lead him to stumble over his words, only embarrassing himself further, like he was a teenager once again.

He resorted to slightly covering his reddened face, his hand coming up to scratch at the side of his head as it tilted down a bit, an timid yet flattered smile tugging at his mouth. His teeth dug into the soft flesh of the inside of his cheek, trying to keep the smile at bay as to not grin at you like a maniac.

Just a simple compliment and he already felt like he had been reduced into a puddle of himself, melted and absolutely compliant to you, how you didn't see his adoring gaze up at you was a mystery, it wasn't like he was doing a good job of hiding it anyway, unconsciously trying to make himself smaller than you all the while trying to appeal even more to your eyes, puffing out his chest. His gaze dropping to your mouth every now and then, your lips looked absolutely delectable framing that ethereal smile of yours.

His cheeks burned brighter at the mere thought of sealing his lips against yours.

"You should definitely wear it more often." You blurted out, too busy ogling at the shirt to notice you said it out loud, too busy to notice the amused and flaunted closed lip smile taking over his grin.

"I mean, I kind of do wear it everyday…" A soft snort left his nose, filling your ears as his voice followed, smug, he had definitely seen you looking, making you scoot back once you realized where you really were, leaning into Sky's personal bubble and reaching out to touch the fabric of his shirt not that he minded anyway. "It's just under my clothes most of the time."

He chuckled quietly, watching with great interest as rich shades of red flushed your face, your cheeks gaining a whole new coloration with his teasing.

The change in dynamics wasn't unwelcomed in any way by him, in fact, Sky found it nice that he wasn't the one flustered this time around.

You, however, were wondering whether you liked the shirt more or the way the shirt fit on Sky. God only knew how badly you wanted to feel that fabric, it was probably cotton, and hand made according to Sky's measurements, meaning it was made to fit him perfectly, way more than it'd fit on anyone else. Yeah, you could see that.

Without noticing, your previous grimace and sour mood had been replaced by a stupid smile on your lips. Sky had this type of side effect on you.

"You know what I meant." Your reply came out in an embarrassed huff, frowning jokingly with your arms crossed, trying to conceal the blush in your face so it would, hopefully, go away, that is, if you were lucky.

You weren't, not really.

"Yeah I know." He replied, a cheerful yet sweet smile on his face, still eyeing your blushy complexion. "I'll make sure to 'wear' it more, at least in situations where we're not being attacked by a dozen of monsters." He joked, rendering you unable to keep a shit-eating grin off of your face.

Sky shyly smiled back at you, mindlessly smoothing out any wrinkles in his shirt while you kept staring, him gladly letting you do as you pleased, drinking up in your attention.

The heat only seemed to grow as the day progressed into mid-day, the sun directly above the cave you guys were in. You'd managed to take off your tunic and gear by now, and it had already helped with relieving some of the suffocating heat, even if you kept your undershirt in place, on your body, overly aware of the multitude of eyes lingering on your form every now and then.

As a result of that same heat, Sky finally succumbed and took off his undershirt, the pretty one you adored, and simply placed it on the dusty, dirty floor, just like that, not treating the white shirt with any respect, completely ignoring the possibility of it getting stained or wrinkled, which pulled an indignant gasp from you.

His attention was once again brought to you by your gasp, puzzled until his eyes really landed on you and processed just what exactly you were doing.

In a quick movement, you snatched Sky's shirt from the floor, forgetting about how tired and sore your feet were in order to dash to the other end of the cave with the shirt clutched in your arms. Despite his recklessness with his clothes, you had to thank Sky for leaving his shirt so easy for you to just kidnap.

The blond's shock faded after a bit, prompting him to spring up and chase after you, not necessarily mad, but definitely not used to having his clothes stolen.

Even so, his mirthful laughter rang out, serving only to fuel you in your attempt to flee from your chaser, still clutching his property to your chest.

#yandere x reader #tw: yandere #yandere linked universe #link x reader #linked universe x reader #yandere link x reader #lu sky #lu sky x reader #yandere lu sky

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