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dottydoesstuff · 6 months

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The Killing Moon (steve harrington x reader)

AHHhhh i've never written a fic before so i hope its alr 😭

its based off the song The Killing Moon by Echo and the Bunnymen

warnings: Unrequited (????) love, hurt no comfort, angst, kissing, alcohol, parties, swearing and a guy that smells like cabbage (lmk if i missed any) no use of Y/N, reader is described to be wearing a dress but no other description other then that

1.1K words <3

Steve Harrington is a stupid, stupid man. He knew that, really, he did. It was being proven to him time and time again, his own stupidity and poor decisions were being thrown back in his face. His poorest decision to date was not confessing his perennial love for you before you found someone else. It's not like he didn't have a chance to tell you, you're his best friend, you see each other everyday without fail. He'd had an infinite amount of chances but ultimately was too much of a wuss to do anything.

Steve sighed as he grabbed another drink from the makeshift bar that had been set up on Tina's kitchen table and started shoving through the crowds of people to find somewhere quiet to wallow in self pity. The banging music and general cheerful mood of the party was getting too much for him. Unfortunately fate was not on his side, it rarely was. Karma for being such a dick in highschool he supposed as he heard a laugh. A laugh he has heard a thousand times before. A laugh that haunts him. Your laugh.

You were here. With him.

You hadn't seen Steve, not when He was distracting your every sense. You looked….. Ethereal. Too good for this world, far too good for Steve and definitely too good for that guy. Steve didn't even know what you saw in him, you had told Steve about him, raving about how great he was and how you were sure that they'd get along. His name was James or Jake, maybe josh? Steve couldn't remember, it's Jeremy’s own fault really, he should get a better name. Steve watched as Jack-Josh-Jake’s half smirk bewitched you and his hands wandered to the hem of your dress. Steve stood staring, never occurring to him that he probably looked rather creepy, as he cursed whatever higher power there was for letting that smug bastard be born. He just couldn't understand, this guy was barely 6’, had god awful hair and vaguely smelt like cabbage. What was the attraction?

After around two minutes of Steve trying to explode Jason (?) with his mind he spotted the door to the back garden and started to make his way over there whilst vowing to brush up on his telekinesis skills so he could throw that guy through a wall or something.

He sat on a lonely bench on the porch facing the garden, watching the moon as it cast dancing shadows, holding his drink with white knuckles and trying not to let his thoughts linger where they shouldn't.

“Hey stranger”

The sound of your voice made him jump which made you giggle slightly. He would make a fool of himself again and again if it meant that he could hear that noise every time.

“What you doin’ sitting out here all by yourself hmm ?”

you said as you sat down next to him, close enough that he could smell the liquor on your breath and the heat radiating off you.

“Oh nothin’ just .. chillin’”

Steve grimaced at his response

“Well can I just chill with you? ”

You chuckle while nudging his shoulder slightly.

Steve looked you in the eyes for the first time that night and gave a small nod. He didn't trust himself not to say something absolutely insane like how he was so in love with you that the smell of your perfume was more intoxicating than the beer he had been half heartedly sipping on or that the feeling of your arm against him was occupying so many of his thoughts that he probably couldn't even tell you where he was right now or how-

“Stevie, can I ask you something ?”

Stevie, oh god you could ask him for his arm and he would saw it off and present it to you without hesitation.

“Yeah whats- whats up ?”

“I don't know, it's probably stupid, I'm just worried about you, y’know? you've been acting… different?”

“You're worried about me?”

“Steve, I’m always worried about you”

Steve couldn't fight off the grin that erupted on his face. His entire body felt hot at your confession. He was pathetic.

“Why are you smiling Steve, I'm serious, is something going on?”

It was his chance, probably his last one. He was going to do it, tell you he loved you and wanted to date you and have children and get married, well probably not all that, he might come off a bit intense. You sat looking at him expectantly as he turned to face you. The words died on his tongue as he realised how close together the two of you were.

“I-” Steve started “ I just wanted to tell you-” he couldn't finish the sentence.

“Tell me what, steve ple-”

He cut you off as he cupped your cheek and kissed you.

A surprised sound left your mouth before you slowly close your eyes and sunk into his lips.

Your kiss was cruel, cruel as he knew he would spend the rest of his life trying to find some semblance of it and would fail to. Cruel in the way your lips fit so perfectly with his, flawlessly moulding together and cruel in the way that he knew that there was no coming back from this. He was absolutely fucked. He was kissing his best friend, his best friend who was the one person he could not lose, his best friend who belonged to someone else.

Maybe it was fate ,he thought, maybe he was meant to be sat out here and you were meant to find him and this was meant to happen, or maybe it was the sheer might of human will and his lack of self control or maybe it was cheap beer and hormones. Whatever it was he was glad of it.

Slowly, you pull away, your forehead resting against his, eyes closed and expression unreadable.

Steve had never felt so content, he was in such a state of bliss that it was a rather rude awakening then the patio door banged open shattering the delicate bubble that surrounded you both.

You jumped up at the noise, whipping around toward the door.

“babe, i've been lookin’ for you”

His speech was slurred as he sauntered towards you. Steve thought Jackson’s face had never looked so punchable.

You walked towards the unwelcome intruder and grabbed his arm, giving him a small smile as you dragged him back inside, not sparing Steve a glance.

Steve felt his heart crack and dread fill his stomach. This was it, you would never speak to him again, he would become a drunken mistake, a mere annotation in your story. His own thoughts devastated him as he looked back up at the sky, the blue moon looking back down at him. The only thing that comforted him now was the knowledge that he was yours, unabashedly and perpetually, his heart lay with you and it was yours to keep. Steve just hoped you would be a little more careful with it from now on.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things #steve x reader #steve harrington x you #unrequited love #angst #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine

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rare-and-beautiful-things · 2 years

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HC about

Enemies to lovers with the union guys 😭🙏

(You can do other characters in Weak hero, up to ya)

hiii! I'm so sorry I'm answering so late and, well, so little. but i felt like writing something and had a bit of time to do it for the first time in a while, so... yknow, i thought a little something is better than nothing, lol. ahhh and i kind of thought these asks fit really well together, so here we are i guess :) also I'm not sure if it can be described as enemies to lovers, cuz it's a very slowburn trope, so it's more like enemies to... something? I'd love to do more characters sometime, but i cannot imagine when lol. ah and thank you so much for sending an ask with one of my favourite tropes! wishing all of you a nice day 💙💙💙

Enemies to lovers

(Dongha Baek, Wolf Keum)

Dongha Baek

it doesn't start with outright enemies, not really. dongha hears of you first and cannot help but imagine how fun it would be to put you in your place, to see that calm and collected look vanish from your face, changing to anguish, humiliation, fear.

you're a rich kid. you don't need to flaunt it around for him to notice your clothes, casually expensive, either famous brands or handmade eco stuff, to notice your calm demeanor, the nicest perfume he ever got to inhale, the easy way you pay for shit - not looking at the price tag, never haggling, never getting off your high horse.

he hates people like you. what the fuck are you even doing in that got forsaken gang of losers? that's what he'd asked, if he didn't know for sure. you're simply enjoying playing with other people, flaunting your money around, looking down on shitheads ready to do anything to acquire the kind of power you were blessed with from birth.

how he'd love to remind you of your place. sure, you're rich, but he knows from experience how weak rich people truly are. how easily they break, how easily they start trying to buy you, to buy their dignity back with their money. perhaps he should let himself be bought this time, after he gets his fun. then he can play with you again later.

your gang was at the unions throat for a while now, and the fact that you still weren't destroyed was telling. it was telling one thing to most people, but the thing it was telling to dongha baek was: you sorely need to be reminded of your place.

it started like many gang fights do. a bit of shit talking, hands in their pockets, eyes gleaming with malice and mischief. you were in this business for enough time to know where it was going, and while dongha was talking you were silently getting ready.

his first swing was expected, so was the second. he wasn't entirely easy to read, but there was something else - some recklessness, wildness to his moves that set you on edge. he also laughed - all the time. startled laughter when you almost got him, raspy chuckle when you did get him, high pitched ringing laughter when it was you groaning in pain and not him. he was constantly mocking at first, the neverending shit talk, but as the fight continued, there were less and less words.

you were weird. there was something about your eyes, something about your bloody smile that didn't add up with everything he's seen of you till now. there was some hunger in you, some spite buried deep behind your polite smile. some genuine, impossible to fake strength. power.

there wasn't a clear winner that day, and you remember talking shit to each other lying on cold concrete with no strength to get up. you think it was fun and then you think you must've hit your head.

you sure start to see each other more often after that. in the streets, when you're going around for business and when you're resting. he's always trying to get you angry, to start some shit, and sometimes you deflect with polite phrases hiding a biting insult under the surface, sometimes you end up fighting it out.

it's stupid. you feel stupid every time you meet him, like some part of your brain - the reasonable, calm, smart part - shuts off when you see his shit eating grin. you're letting yourself get angry. you're letting yourself get reckless.

you should stop.

you seek him out yourself, ready to put an end to this nonsense. you start it this time, for the first time in forever. he's laughing and talking shit again, and you let it get under your skin despite yourself.

you scream for the first time in forever. it's an ungodly, impolite, weird, embarrassing sound. it's loud and wild. you're screaming and kicking and biting like an animal, because you're furious at that bastard, that pathetic fiend, and you are - you'd let him get under your skin - and you are - in love.

you think it, and it's ringing so terribly final in your head you start laughing.

dongha finally understands, and he laughs with you.

Wolf Keum

you're everything wolf has ever hated. a weak loser acting tough until it's time to get behind your words, to prove yourself. a small time criminal, freelancer on the dark side, kissing Donald's ass right after sweet-talking the union's enemies into a nice deal. two-faced liar and a coward.

wolf cannot help himself when he sees you. how can you act so confident, how can you run your fucking mouth so smoothly when you know - by experience - how it feels to be completely broken down?

by him, nonetheless.

you were (supposed to be) just another one of wolf's many victims. just another one lying before him, all bloody and broken, bloody mouth, broken breath, broken bones for sure, red and beneath the red - yellow and rose blooming into majestic purple. swollen face, swollen hands.

you were - all broken. but you were not - just another one.

you never stopped. you never let what was done to you stop you, you never even truly changed your tactics. you knew no shame. it was so disgusting, so infuriating to wolf that at some point it started to be fun.

every time he needed to do business with you he couldn't pass the chance to play. to remind you: you are weak. worthless. he could tear you up right then and there, and there'd be nothing you could do to stop him.

sometimes it was mild humiliation. some talking down, "remember what fun we had together?", "wanna repeat?", spit on your shoulder, sometimes on your face. other times he's more hands on: grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, snarling in your face, "perhaps i should bite your lips off. would be hard lying without them". and then there are times when he makes you hold his glasses and - "come on. stare at me like you did just now. don't you dare looking away from me, you dipshit" - puts his hand on your throat and squeezes.

you deal with a lot of assholes. it's basically the job description. but none of those other assholes are wolf keum. you've learned to be cold and hard and perfectly smooth like a pebble in the river. do not give a reaction. do not stop smiling. do not take sides. do not go down. do not - the list goes on. you have to be perfect. you have to survive.

wolf never fails to remind you how far from perfect you actually are.

you do not give him any reaction you are able to mask or subdue. it's never anything more than the slightest shiver, the smallest tick - but that's enough. wolf looks intently, and he sees. he grins like a mad dog that needs to be put down.

you do not go after him yourself. you're not that stupid, or brave, or self-assured. no, you do what you do best - you talk to people, you make deals, you exchange one favour for another, until it all falls into place.

you make other people go after him. the strongest guys you were able to talk into it from all over Seoul. all of it, except for the yeongdeungpo. they go, and you wait anxious and excited for the results. when there's finally a phonecall, you take it immediately.

then you hear his voice. it's gruff and low. it says "stay where you are. we'll meet soon enough".

he sends you the photos before coming, before you're able to decide what to do. the photos are shaky and bloody and your stomach turns when you look at them.

and then comes wolf. he's bloody and beaten too, perhaps even more than the guys on the photos, but you know him and he knows you know him: he's a fucking zombie, and he won't let his current condition stop him.

he also knows you. he knows that slightest shiver, that smallest tick. he knows what to expect, he readies himself for your blabbering, for your fucking lies - but you don't open your mouth. not this time.

you ready your fists, and wolf chokes on his laughter. he seems excited, indignant, startled. tired. he's beaten down - but you know that if he grabs you it will be the end. if the punch goes through - it will hurt. so you don't let him grab you or hit you for as long as you can. you find a wire and wrap it around his throat, ready to kill. he grabs you then. he punches you, and it seems you forgot how much it could hurt. it's terrible. you do not let go of the wire though, and the punches become rarer and weaker and then they stop.

wolf doesn't talk to you after that. he lets his minions do his business, and you don't see him for weeks. until suddenly you do.

you prepare for the worst, but he doesn't make a move aside from dragging a cig to and from his lips, inhaling and exhaling the smoke. watching you watching him. there's something new in his eyes - something different from the familiar sick amusement and rage and boredom. something softer, gentler - not like plush or clouds, but like a green sprout only starting to grow, easy to destroy, to kill.

you take a step in his direction, then another one, and another, until you're standing side by side. close. too close. when wolf offers you a cigarette, you take it before you think better. the cigarette is way too strong and bitter, and yet somehow you do not mind.

#weak hero #headcanons #weakhero webtoon #wolf keum #dongha baek #weak hero x reader

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yuichi-ro · 2 years

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ding dong your daily hanma fluff delivered right to your doorstep!

hanma planning, with the help of his son, a date night for you and him just like in the old days. doesn’t matter if his hair is greying, his face is covered in wrinkles or his body being out of shape, he will take you out on dates like it was your first one because even now, pushing 40, he is still so very much in love with you.

comforted and almost lured out of a dark place always tormenting him in the back of his mind, here he is now, alive, 30 years later still holding the same hand.

the years may pass but his affection for you does not. he knows he may not always been the best partner, but despite what people expect of him and had the person they had assigned him to be, he still puts a lot of care and effort into those that truly matter to him.

you and your son. his son, his shining beacon of hope who made him realise so much, now already an adult he couldn’t possibly be prouder of.

the date is exactly how it is supposed to be. a bit messy, not perfect at all but filled with love and laughter all the same.

hanma is not the boy he once was nor the man he thought he would become; he is so much better than either and it is all thanks to you telling him that he can be exactly that.

-🌌

date night with dad!Hanma 👉👈🥺 My heart cannot take it 😭

date night that is just a little more stressful than he remembers. Why is this causing him such a belly ache? As teens it was as easy as just getting on his motorcycle and saying stupid shit to see you smile until your cheeks hurt. That left butterflies in his stomach that he'd ride that high for days it seems. Now though nothing seems good enough. Or that he's done it all. He's said every joke. Taken you to every spot he can think of. Wowed you with everything he's got. Now he's worried that after all this you're the one who'll end up bored.

his son doesn't see it. Or get why his father is so concerned. Or keeps asking what you are looking at when you show your kid things on your phone. As far as his kid's concerned his parents are gross and in love. Which is cool now as an adult but made him gag as a kid. So when Hanma keeps asking what might impress you, all his kid can really say is do like he did when you both were dating.

but act like he did when you both were dating? That's a bad idea.

to him all he remembers is the bad shit he did. Focuses on the tears he made you spill bc he was a jackass. The fights that seemed endless. Just the raging hormones and growing up you both did as personalities crashed and love prevailed. Act like he did when you two were younger is off the table.

so he thinks critically. Or at least tries to. About all the dates through the years that did make you smile. When he wowed you and swept you off your feet. He's no mastermind but if he just shoves all the good things into one date, then you'll have to still be in love with him. Right?

and that's where it starts to unravel. Hanma sucks at planning. Gets dates wrong. Misses phone calls. Looses reservations. Worries at the florist. Suddenly can't remember what the perfume is in the cabinet above the sink. You've worn the same scent for over a decade now he's drawing a god damn blank like he has alzheimer's.

when it's all said and done it looks like he pulled it off. That when he finally takes you out things should run smoothly and he can be as suave and easy going as he was when you were younger. Play it off as the cool guy if only things didn't give way to a hiccup and road bump at every turn.

it's the right brand of perfume but wrong scent. The water in the flower arrangement spilled on the two of you. You're laughing making a joke about afterbirth and your son while he's feeling his stomach doing flips. The restaurants was crowded and he hated every second of it and your food was cold. By the end of the night you're both walking home and it looks like it's going to rain. He scrambled to put this together and yet fate is the cruelest inventor of them all. He feels like nothing but a failure bc you aren't acting like you did when you both were kids.

that's when you take his arm. Humming to yourself as the two of you walk. He honestly hadn't even noticed you humming. But he notices the way your hand feels when you slip it in his coat pocket. Warm. Friendly. Tender. Just like how when you were both young. It's enough to snap Hanma back to the moment at hand.

and there you are. Smiling at him. Brimming with joy. A wrinkle here and there sure. Swearing that dealing with him should have given you way more wrinkles than you ended up with. But you're smiling at him, squeezing his hand and leaning into him like how you use to when he took you out for a ride in the middle of the night. That's when those butterflies come back to life in his stomach. Tonight was supposed to give you those feelings and here he is. Greedy. Feeling it all as he stares at you with the most dumbfounded look.

"kiss me."

"what?"

"just kiss me."

in that moment Hanma can't believe he feels like a nervous teenager. Was he even nervous as a teenager? Had he been nervous the first time you kissed? He couldn't even remember at this point. Because right now all he felt was the rawness of his nerves when he leans into you. Kissing you like he'd done as a gangly teenager, as he's done for the past thirty something years and as he's done everyday since you told him that you loved him back. Hanma kisses you like every other day but it feels like one in a million in that very moment.

where everything went wrong in one night. He's reminded all the times it went right. So very right as he holds onto you like a gangly teenager all over again. Kissing the love of his life like his life depends on it. Because maybe it did at one point. Probably really did save his life. For that he has a botched date to show but your smile that makes him feel a thrill like none other. You are the thrill he'll never tire of. Ever.

#rolls myself up in my blanket #sobs violently at this #hanma is shit at dates but he tries ;;--;;#hes shit at a lot of things but he makes you smile and thats enough sometimes ;;--;;#THERE GOES MY HEART AGAIN ARGH #RIGHT IN THE CHEST BABE RIGHT IN THE CHEST #🌌.♡#tokyorev hanma #hanma shuji #hanma shuji x reader

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