#I tried the date with death game a bit the other day! It had a character creator!!!?

[another-lost-mc]

a new dating sim catches your eye and asmo is absolutely 100% not jealous at all.

a date with death | asmodeus x gn!reader

cw: sfw (slightly suggestive towards the end). pet names (asmo calls reader darling, sunshine). vague spoilers for parts of the game (up to day five). silly fluff and jealousy over 2d characters.

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: I really like this game (a date with death) btw, I definitely recommend it.

"I tried that new game you've been playing."

Asmo's comment catches you off-guard and your eyes slowly blink open. You were on the verge of sleep, warm and content with his chest pressed against your back and his arm draped loosely over your waist. The words are muffled slightly against your shoulder, his lips leaving a sticky trail from the hydrating mask he smoothed over them as part of his nightly skincare routine.

You've been playing a new dating sim lately. You knew Asmo peered at the monitor over your shoulder to see what you were up to, but he didn't seem all that interested. He didn't give any indication that he wanted to play it himself, either.

It's not the first romance-based game you've played in the Devildom and he never cared before. He thinks it's cute when you find a character that appeals to you. Sometimes he watches you play through the stories, or he'll listen with a smile while you talk about the game later.

When you offered to play other games with him in the past, he insisted that was Levi's area of expertise. That didn't prevent him from finding his own ways to enjoy your hobby with you though. He preferred to indulge you with a little bit of roleplay instead: parading around his room dressed like your favourite characters, imitating their speech patterns and mannerisms to sweep you off your feet, and seducing you as if they had come to life.

(Later, he seduced you properly as himself because no one can ever love you as much as he does).

But he knew right away that this particular game was different. You giggled at your desk while you tapped away at your computer. It made you smile in a soft and charming sort of way. It irked him that some pictures and words on a screen drew that sort of reaction from you the same way he did.

You lean back and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is hard to read in the dark, but you can feel the heavy weight of his stare on your face. "I didn't know you wanted to play it. You should've told me! Did you like it?"

"Not at all," he declares firmly, and you can't help but chuckle at his sharp response.

"Really? Why not?"

"I'm so glad you asked, darling," he says as he turns over and sits up suddenly. He flips on the lamp beside him, and he rubs the back of his hand against your cheek in apology when you wince as light illuminates his room. He plucks something off the bedside table and waves it in your direction with a flourish. "I made a list!"

You give him a skeptical look as you roll over to give him your full attention, and he clears his throat and taps the top of the page. "My first complaint is the ridiculous title: I Made a Bet and Have to Survive the Next Seven Days Without Falling in Love With a Babygirl Reaper Who Wants My Soul! Seriously? The title alone should warn you how terrible it's going to be."

"That's not what it's called in the human world," you explain with a shrug. "I don't understand why they changed it here, it's a little bit silly."

He tsks under his breath. "Silly indeed. Where do I even begin with this so-called love interest? It's almost like the creators have never met a real reaper before. I can assure you most of them aren't as nice or cute as they make him out to be." The look he shoots you next is oddly serious, and it sends a chill up your spine as his words sink in. "I recommend not getting too close to their kind. Thirteen seems docile enough, but I prefer your body and soul to remain in one piece."

You're not sure how to begin to respond to that little speech, but he pokes the paper with his finger and continues reading his list of "glaring issues" with the game. The complaints get more ridiculous and obscure, and it's only when he gets to the bottom of the page that the reason for his sour mood dawns on you.

"...and when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he calls you 'sunshine.' He has some nerve - that's what I call you. Remember when Mammon thought it would be funny to call you his sunshine too?" A dangerous gleam twinkles in his eyes before it disappears just as quickly. "At least he learned not to do that again," he murmurs under his breath.

You shuffle over on your knees and swing your leg over his thighs so you can sit in his lap. "Do you have any other complaints on that little list of yours?" you ask him with a teasing smile.

He huffs in frustration and his frown is adorable - of course he has one more grievance to share. "That stupid reaper doesn't even know your favourite flower. Tomorrow I'm going to buy you the biggest and most beautiful bouquet you've ever seen."

He finally drops the paper but neither of you spare it a second glance as it falls over the side of the bed and flutters to the floor. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes your waist gently, slumping his head against your chest with a drawn-out sigh. "I don't see what you like about him."

"Oh, Asmo." You run your hands gently through his hair as you hide your smile against the crown of his head. "Are you telling me there's a video game character you're actually jealous of?"

"Of course not," he mumbles into your collarbone, mouthing softly at the skin with little flicks of his tongue but it's not quite enough to distract you. "I wanted to see what all the hype was about." His teeth graze the bottom of your throat and you swallow down a quiet moan. "I found it extremely disappointing, by the way."

You cradle his jaw gently and tilt his head up so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're so cute when you pout," you coo softly, just to watch how his cheeks turn pink. "I hope you know that he could pop into existence and appear outside your window right now, and I still wouldn't be interested in him. He's not you."

The words seem to soothe him a bit if the purring in his chest is anything to go by. You kiss the tip of his nose and let out a quiet squeak when he grasps the back of your neck and pulls you down so he can kiss you.

Repeatedly.

"You're right, darling." Kiss. "He's completely irrelevant," kiss "and I've already forgotten what his name is."

The world tilts suddenly as Asmo flips you onto your back and braces his weight on his hands. You giggle when he leans down and noses along your jaw. One of his hands slowly glides down your chest and tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it aside without a second thought.

"Let's see if I can make you forget his name too, hmm?"

read more: asmodeus masterlist | obey me masterlist

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x reader #obey me x reader #gn!reader #x reader

[urfavlarry]

Hi, I love your Husk work as an overlord. Could I please request a husker x reader when he lost the game to Alastor. Short time after Reader becomes the Cashio Overlord that runs on the cashios that once owned by Husker. One day, the reader came by to see Husk at the hotel. Please and thank you

A/N: im not sure if i understood this well but i hope i wrote it well enough for you to enjoy! also sorry it took so long for me to write i was a bit busy but here it is<33 (and also reader doesn’t know about Husk at first :3 )

warnings: swearing,alcohol,bad grammar,mentions of death and bl00d

genre: angst??? and some fluff

——————————Flashback ——————————

You walk to your local bar, you and some guy you met online through a dating app were supposed to meet up there and get to know each other more. You liked the guy, he was nice and showed genuine interest in you, something guys didn’t really do that often. You put effort in dressing up today, wearing your best pair of clothes you had and fixing up your hair and just make yourself over all look presentable. “This guy better not ditch me.” You tell yourself as you look at the time; 7:02pm. You were supposed to meet up at 7 and he was late. “Not the best first impression.” You sigh when you suddenly hear someone yelling your name.

“Y/N! Hey it’s me the guy you have been talking to for the past few months? I’m so sorry I was stuck in traffic and I would’ve called but I just didn’t really think about it in that moment.” He says rubbing his neck nervously and smiles awkwardly. You smile at him and chuckle; “Don’t worry about it! Now let’s go have some fun!” You say excitedly and pull him to the bar.

The bar was fairly crowded, something you were expecting since it’s a pretty popular one at that. You order some drinks and take a seat in the corner of a bar. It was loud but you still managed to talk and drink the night away! You drank a bit too much that night and your head started to pound and the last thing you remembered was getting pulled into an alley by the guy and a sharp pain in your chest and blood on your hands.

————————End of Flashback ————————

After you fell down to hell you quickly realized your situation and tried your best to not get in anyones way. You kept a low profile and kept your guard up just in case. You come across a casino, an abandoned one at that. You go inside and look at yourself in one of the broken mirrors on the floor. You had poker card symbols under your eyes and on your fingers. Your eyes widen at the sight, you were still wearing the same thing from last night it’s just that you have a big X on your chest. “That motherfucker killed me.” You say in disbelief, anger slowly bubbling up in you.

That day you went on a rampage. Finding an abandoned angelic spear somewhere in the bar and went fucking nuts. You swore you killed at least a good 250 demons and you kinda discovered some powers. “Cool.” You said and smirked. People had been recording you and posting about you online, calling you the “Soul gambler”, whatever that means. You slowly learned you killed 2 overlords during your little rampage and they weren’t even some random overlords, they were “heavy hitters” as people liked to call them. People started to fear you, making out the events that happened into something 10x worse. People didn’t bother looking your way anymore, wanting to light themselves on fire rather than to look at you.

You renewed the casinos around hell and gained massive amount of territory. People would visit the casinos frequently, it sort of reminded you of the casino from back when you were alive. Many people applied for the job since almost all of the jobs were taken because of hells overpopulation problem. Some old workers that worked at the casino before you renewed them and claimed them as your own started coming in, you hiring them of course since they had experience. You quickly learned there was an Overlord similar to you a few years ago. Unfortunately he lost his power and you learned from a commercial that he is now working at a hotel, Hazbin Hotel to be exact.

You decided to go and visit the hotel one day, wanting to have a chat with the old Overlord. You make yourself look presentable, wanting to look your best since you have a reputation to uphold. You walk to the hotel, people walking by screaming or just run into near by building, “Charming.” You think sarcastically and keep walking to the hotel.

You get to the hotel and look up at it, taking in its looks. It didn’t look half bad but it could use some renovation. You walk up the hill and brush yourself off one last time and knock on the big doors. There was silence for a few minutes then you heard commotion and a quiet “coming” from behind the closed doors. You wait patiently and hear the door open, seeing the one and only princess of hell. You go to speak but the door shuts right in your face; “Well that was.. something?” You think to yourself raising a brow in the process. The door opens once again, but this time by the radio demon himself, a fellow Overlord you quite liked. He didn’t try bothering you at all since you arrived in hell a few years ago and you appreciated that. “Salutations dear! It’s a pleasure finally meeting you! Quite a pleasure! Come on now, don’t just stand there. Come in!” He says stepping aside to let you in. You smile softly at him and thank him, walking into the lobby of the hotel when you suddenly stop dead in your tracks because a spear is suddenly pointed in your face. You smile, summoning your own spear and point it to the girls neck; “I wouldn’t try that if I were you. I’m not an Overlord for nothing.” The girl mumbles something in spanish and walks away, putting her spear away. You sigh and look at the princess of hell. “Well if you guys finished trying to assassinate me, let me introduce myself.” You say and look at everyone’s expressions. You smirk and continue; “My name is Y/N, maybe you know me by “Soul gambler” ,I mean uh whatever that means.” You shrug and hear a slight chuckle from Alastor and a pink spider demon, you believe his name was Angel Dust, a porn star from Valentinos studio. Poor guy was probably tricked into signing a contract with him.

“Well, I came here to ask about an Overlord that was similair to me. He owned the casinos I now own and I heard he was residing here now?” You say calmly, hoping you can to the right place. You hear slight radio static increase but choose to ignore it. Charlie shrugs, saying she doesn’t know of any Overlord being here other than Alastor, but that she hopes you will stay for a bit to see what the hotel is like. You nod in agreement and walk to the spider fellow since he was the only one that looked approachable. You talk for a bit when he suddenly says; “So um I kinda know something about the Overlord you’re looking for.” He says grabbing your full attention.

“The Overlord you’re talking about, it’s that bartender over there. You can try talking to him but I won’t guarantee that he won’t push you away.” He says lowering his tone and grabs you back the shoulder to bring you closer. You nod looking over to the bar where a grumpy cat demon sat, drinking some cheap booze. Angel pushes you towards him, giving you a thumbs up before walking away. You glare slightly but take a deep breath and walk towards the bar. His ears perk up at the sudden footsteps and looks your way, sending you slight glare; “If you’re here to make deals with me you can turn right back around and leave me the hell alone.” He says in an annoyed tone and turns around, his back facing you. You look at him and glare slightly; “What is it with you people and interrupting me all of the time? Like jeez let me fucking speak!” You say rolling your eyes and continue; “I don’t know what shit you hears about me but I can assure you that I didn’t come here to make a deal with you. I just want to talk.” You say sighing, hoping for an answer from the cat demon.

“Whatever let’s just get this over with, what is it?” He says rolling his eyes. You look around and say in a hushed tone; “Do you happen to know anything about the old Overlord that used to own the casinos I own now?” You say and hope you get the truth out of the grumpy ass cat. He looks back at you and curses Angel under his breath, an angered look on his face; “Cut the shit I know you know it was me. What do you want?” He says going closer to the counter where you were sitting opposite to him. You sigh; “I don’t want to cause any harm, really just a friendly chat. Share experiences you know? Since we’re both kind of similar..?” He looks back at you in disbelief and contemplates what to say. He sighs and pulls out two shot glasses, pouring you one and nods for you to continue. “Sooo..” “Husk. The name is Husk.” You smile, asking away and share your experience as on overlord with him. He asks some questions himself, wondering how the casino is doing or if anyone decided to come back there to work. You chat for the rest of the day, others looking at you in awe as they’ve never seen Husk open up to anyone.

After a while you get a bit drunk, talking the poor cat’s ear off. He smiles, listening to your stories, commenting on them here and there. After a bit you decide you had enough for the day and that you should get home. Charlie quickly offered you a room for the night, free of charge so you gladly accepted. “Husk go ahead and show them to their room please? I have something important to do!” Charlie yells before running off to who knows where.

Husk sighs but links your arms and walks you to your room. “Don’t forget to drink some water.. You know so you don’t throw up in the morning.” He says and walks off to his own room. You look at his figure disappearing in the dark of the hallway and enter your room. It was spacious and really nice for a hotel in hell.

You lay down in the bed, kicking your shoes off and hum in satisfaction, falling asleep just after a few seconds of resting on the comfortable bed. The next day you wake up, a slight headache but nothing pain killers couldn’t fix. You stretch and go to the bathroom, taking off your clothes and take a quick shower. You saw a new pair of clothes in the bathroom and a little note left by Charlie. You smile and take the clothes, putting them on. It wasn’t anything fancy but you liked it. You put on your shoes and fold your dirty clothes neatly on the bed and decide to head down to the lobby. It was around 9:30 ish when you went out so you hoped someone was awake. You head down and to your surprise see that everyone is awake. “Good morning sleepy head! You sure slept for quite some time!” Alastor chirped and grins at you, waving for you to come over.

You sit down next to Alastor, Charlie and Vaggie making breakfast. “So I saw you talking to Husk last night~” He smirks slightly. You roll your eyes knowing Alastor and Rosie like to gossip, usually during the meeting Carmilla holds once in a while. “Yeah? It was just a friendly chat. Sinner to sinner.” You shrug and sip on the coffe Charlie brought with the breakfast. Alastor raises a brow but shrugs and walks off.

You see the car demon from afar. Already sitting at the counter and drinking booze. You smirk and walk over with your coffee in hand and sit down at the bar; “Ain’t it a bit too soon for you to be drinking?” You tease and eye him and the booze in his hand. He chuckles lowly and smirks; “Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic darling, it’s just the way it is.” He says and shrugs his shoulders, taking another swing of his booze. “Sleep well? You seemed pretty drunk last night.” He says and eyes your figure. You smile and say; “I’m fine, I handle my alcohol pretty well just a slight headache.” You take the last sip of your coffee and place the mug down.

You look at Husk who seems to be thinking about something before he suddenly speak up; “Maybe we could repeat last night another time? Maybe you could show me what you did with my poor casino?” He teases and smirks. You fake gasp and hold your chest where your sadly dead heart is. “Oh I would bet my soul that my version of the casino is so much better than yours was.”

“We’ll see about that Doll~”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #alastor #charlie morningstar #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel husk #overlord!husk #overlord husk #overlord #overlords #alastor hazbin hotel #vaggie #hazbin charlie #husker x you #husk x reader #gn reader #reader insert #husk x y/n

[mid-stars]

Dan heng x reader

Lingering moment

Today fated at last. .. Across the Aeons and the stars.. You finally died.

The moment of your death was no news towards others.. Especially not to dan Heng.. Dan Heng... Your friend, your lover.. Your home...

Home... "Home will always be whenever we are together" is what you would say.. But you were gone.. No longer around to see him, to see them..

"Dan Heng." Himeko held his shoulder, he didn't say a word. Himeko nodded and left him be. The funeral was held during a special day, your anniversary. Dan Heng held onto your favourite flowers, grown and fresh just by him. Even the stellaron hunters came by to see your death.

Despite blade's longing for it.. He knew you were a great companion to all of them. Despite all of their wrongdoings you never hated them and helped them in a way. Sneak out sessions with silver wolf, shopping with Kafka, and even death talks with blade.. It was a shame you had left them.

Dan Heng had forgotten when your death had started. One moment he was in your arms, the next you were in his. You were just a grasp away and he failed.. He failed. Failed. Failed...

The first month was hard, he didn't eat until he was forced to, became even more silent, locked himself in your room, and wouldn't stop giving you simple notes.

The second month was a bit better, he came out a little more, ate regularly, talked a bit more and went into your room less. But even so, everyone could see the hollow in his eyes.

A knock was on the door when he was looking into your room "who is it?" He said with hidden annoyance "dan Heng, I found a letter for you" himeko said while sliding in some mail under the door for him. He picked it up.

---

From : [name]

To : Dan heng

---

Dan Heng slowly opened it, afraid it might break like a gentle glass. He squeezed the paper as he read through the words

----

Dear dan Heng.

You might have noticed that by the time you've received this letter. I may have already died. A pity, I had wished a long life with you.. I know how you'd react to this "[name], stop playing around" and so on and so forth. I loved every moment with you. The way you would cup my cheeks, the way you would slowly kiss me through the maple trees.. Oh how I've missed you.. But you've missed me more..

Remember the day where you first board the express? It was a delightful day.. The day you found a home.. Home.. Home will always be wherever you and I are together.. But I cannot be your home forever dan Heng..

You love me right? Then grant me my last wish. Live on a life without me dan Heng.. Don't hold back the things you want to do just because you miss me.. Because I would be heartbroken to see you like that...

XOXO hellebore.

----

"Dan Heng! What are you reading?" March exclaims as she tries to grab the paper "It's nothing of concern, March." Dan Heng puts the paper back in the envelope leaving March and the trailblazer dumbfounded. Right.. Your death was only a year ago

"Well... Whatever. Dan heng, Mr. Yang sent us to tell you we found a new recruit" the trailblazer says as they played their game. Dan Heng nodded, and kept putting his other files away. "We'll send the new recruit here, so you'll be able to have a little chat" March says as they both ran out of the room

Dan Heng scrolls back to the memory file you both had created for yourselves, one where he first was on the express, the first date, the second date, first month anniversary, your birthday, and "and you've kept your promise.."

Dan Heng turned around to see.. You.. "I'm back..." You smile.

-------

Hellebore flowers usually grow next to maple trees. And it is symbolized to be a meaning of peace, serenity and tranquility.

#dan heng angst #honkai star rail #hsr dan heng #dan heng x you #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng #gender neutral reader #gn reader #hsr #hsr men #x reader

[ghostfacd]

YOU’RE LOSING ME! — LUKE HUGHES

— “AND I WOULDN’T MARRY ME EITHER,”

pairing; slytherin!luke x fem!hufflepuff!reader

summary; in which luke and yn are already dating, but his lack of care for their relationship is slowly making him lose her

genre; angst, miscommunication, hurt to comfort, fluff at end, hogwarts!au, black cat bf!luke + golden retriever gf!reader

author’s note; sorta part 2 to wanna be yours (you can read it before if you want for more context but it doesn’t have to be read if you don’t want to) ANYWAY, another slytherin!luke fic because i said so LOL i prob will be making this into a series filled with random imagines of him and our lovely hufflepuff yn 🫶 this fic is obviously based on “you’re losing me” by taylor swift so my fellow swifties, cry with me

✸ SLYTHERIN!LUKE MASTERLIST

“Luke you don’t get it,” you say, giving him a small glare. His eyebrows furrow at your harsh gaze, not sure why you were so upset.

“So what?” He asks, arms crossed like a child who didn’t get what they wanted, “what is the big deal here?”

“The big deal is you gave that girl your sweater!”

“She was cold YN,” Luke rubs his face tiredly, “it was nothing really, she was just shivering cold and I wasn’t going to be an asshat and let her freeze to death.”

“Jack was right there Luke,” you say, referring to the older Hughes brother who was sitting near the two of you during the Ravenclaw VS Hufflepuff Quidditch match. The girl who Luke gave his sweater to was also from Slytherin, which made you even more insecure. What if Luke liked her better? What if they related to each other more?

What if?

“Jack was busy watching the game,” Luke sighs, throwing his hands desperately down to his arms, “you know what YN? You win, fine. I’m sorry I gave that girl my sweater. Happy?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, not appreciating the passive aggressive tone your boyfriend was using on you. With a quiet sigh, you brush past him, leaving the boy silent.

For once, you wished he would come chasing after you, apologizing and not letting you go until you guys were made up. But your boyfriend was Luke Hughes—and there was no way he would do such thing. It wouldn’t be Luke Hughes of him to do so.

The next few days are radio silent from Luke, who seems to have his focus on Quidditch much more than on you. It wasn’t like this was anything new; Quidditch was one of his top priorities, so much so that you wonder if he would pick it over you in a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry Lukey,” you say as you find him inside the locker room. The other boys had all left, one of Luke’s friends, Mark, had patted you on the back and wished you a good luck.

Everybody saw the tension between you and the Slytherin star Quidditch player, but it was too awkward for anyone to mention.

He opens up his arms, letting you place your face into his chest. A few seconds later, he pushes you off gently, swinging his gym bag over his body.

“Slytherin’s having a party tonight,” he says as the two of you walk hand in hand. “Are you coming?”

“Depends,” you say, leaning closer to him, “am I invited?”

“Course you are baby,” Luke makes a stop, placing his full attention on you, “I’m sorry about yesterday okay? I really mean it when I say it was nothing between me and her. I didn’t even know she existed before the game, I only gave her the sweater because I wanted to be polite.”

You nod, hugging your boyfriend tightly as you tippy toe to place a kiss on his face.

When the sun set and the clouds were covered by the dark sky, you placed on your dress, a simple, but beautifully designed emerald green silk dress. You wanted to match with Luke’s house colors, which were a dark green.

As soon as you entered the Slytherin Common room, you were met with the smell of cigarettes and beer. In some corners, couples were making out, and in others, there was a group playing beer pong.

“Have you seen Luke?” You ask Mark, who happens to pass you as he tried to reach the alcohol.

“Oh—Luke?” He says that in such a tone that made you furrow your eyebrows deeply, wondering why he looked so guilty. “Yeah, uh, he’s in the main part of the common room.”

“Okay,” you say, starting to make your way there, but Mark pulls you back, giving you a gentle smile.

“How about you play some beer pong with us for a bit? It’ll be fun!”

You give him a small smile but shake your head. “It’s okay Mark, thank you for the invite,”

Mark sighs as he watches you go, hoping his best friend wasn’t doing anything stupid to make you cry again. He had seen the two of you fight endless amounts of time, mainly due to Luke’s stubbornness and his inability to be.. well.. good boyfriend.

Walking into where Mark said Luke would be, you could understand why he acted the way he did. There your boyfriend was, on one of the small couches, with a girl right next to him.

He was holding a red solo cup, a cliché that you’ve seen in muggle high school and college movies. She seems to keep rambling about something, giggling and twirling her hair as Luke looks the opposite direction, disinterested.

“Luke,” you say, your insecurities rising up once again.

Sure, Luke didn’t really give the girl the time of day, but she was extremely pretty, and seemed way more carefree than you were.

“You know her Lukey?” The girl asks, head leaning close to touch to his curls.

“I do,” he says, sitting up properly. “Cho, meet my girlfriend, YN.”

Cho smiles bitterly, “nice to meet you YN! I’ve heard soooo much about you.”

“Mhm,” you say, “nice to meet you too.”

“Well Lukey, I’m gonna go and say hi to Jack, see ya!” She hops off the couch, not before giving your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

He barely even flinches at this.

“Seriously?” You whisper out, anger fueling your body.

“What now YN?”

“You let girls be all over you and kiss you on the cheek now?”

“Oh my god, are we doing this again?” Luke stands up, discarding his solo cup somewhere in the common room. “Can we not have a good night YN?”

You scoff, “we can have a good night when I’m not treated like shit by you in this relationship, Hughes.”

Saying his last name felt like a blow to Luke’s face, making him more upset by each minute. “I don’t treat you like shit!”

“Yes you do!” You yell, exasperated. You watch as Luke tries to push his way past you, but you grab his arm, tightening your hold on him so he wouldn’t go. “Don’t you ignore me Luke!”

He looks down at your figure, his drunken daze almost fading when he sees how beautiful you looked. A green emerald dress on with your hair curled. You truly were the best thing at this party.

“Listen, I wouldn’t marry me either!” He spat out, “I told you this when we first began dating! That I was going to be a terrible boyfriend who isn’t good at comforting and communicating. You knew this right off the bat, YN! You know that I’m a pathological people pleaser!”

“I just wanted you to see me!” You cried out, tears now falling down you cheeks. “Yes, I knew what I was getting into—but all I wanted was for you to see me and love me Luke!”

Your breath hitches when you see Luke’s arm falling loosely off your grip, scared he was going to leave forever now.

Do something Luke, your brain screams. Say something.

He leaves the room, making you drop onto your knees. The pain you felt in your chest was overwhelming, accompanied by the seemingly endless tears.

Lose something, risk something Luke!

You don’t notice he re-enters the room until you feel arms wrap around you, carrying you to one of the large couches. Luke places you on his lap, a large tissue box in his hand. Using his free hand, he wipes away your tears, making sure to get the mascara that was dripping.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, giving you a soft kiss on your head. “I know I’m not a good boyfriend and that I do stupid shit—but I promise I love you—that I see you YN. I’m trying my best here, I’ve never had someone care for me as much as you and I guess I was just afraid of love,”

You don’t say anything, just holding onto Luke’s arms that were currently embracing you.

The two of you sit in silence for the next half hour, Luke never once letting go of you as he rocks the two of you back and forth.

“Just so you know,” you say, looking up to meet Luke’s teary eyes, “I would marry you. Regardless of you being shit at showing emotions.”

This makes him laugh as he hugs you tighter, mumbling another apology into your head.

“I would gladly marry you too baby.”

#luke hughes #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hughes brothers #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #umich hockey #umich imagine #umich blurbs #umich boys

[imagine--if]

Do you think you could do an HC on jealous Chishiya 🥰🥰 I absolutely loved your dating chishiya HC it was amazing

A/N: Yeppp, this request won my poll thing by like 74% 😂 and thank you so much! Here's more Chishiya food for you 🥰️

♡ Chishiya Being Jealous Over You Includes... ♡

♡• It's not like he doesn't expect other people you happen to meet around the Borderlands to not take any notice of you when you happen to be in games or something together. Chishiya is well aware that you're a very pretty person, not just by your looks. The two of you are practically unstoppable when you're working together in a complicated game, and that kind of success that you give each other does attract attention. Not just the suspicious and desperately frustrated attention of "How the hell are they doing this? Are they gamemasters or something?!" which Chishiya finds mildly amusing. It's when eyes linger on you, on your face, your body, for a moment too long, that his deep brown gaze will tint with an almost unnoticeable hint of venom.

♡• Chishiya Shuntaro doesn't like those starers. Not when it's you they're ogling.

♡• I'm not saying that he'll immediately get huffy and insecure Arisu 😏 or defensive and aggressive Niragi 😵 but he doesn't like it. He knows when it's happening, of course, since he's a very observant man, and so when he notices it, with just one emotionless stare at them, Chishiya will get the gist of what's going on in their head pretty quickly.

♡• They're not a threat to him. He's not scared of anyone, and won't back down from them. And it's not like he doesn't trust you, because he absolutely does, and knows that there's no way you'd fall for their words and shameless eyes as soon as they approach you. Still, it doesn't mean he won't make sure they're put in their place.

♡• It's like - you know how Arisu got caught when he found the fake safe, and Chshiya was just flipping around the walkie-talkie with his usual smug, unbothered smirk? It's kind of similar to that. He'll screw them over purposefully, maybe even put a bit of effort into it, because he can. Because he's smarter than them. And because you're his.

♡• Chishiya knows you can handle yourself, and turn them down as soon as they try coming on to you, but if they still persist and you're clearly uncomfortable, yeah, he'll step right in. One step in front of you, calmly and indifferently, he'll give them a scarily blank look and say something laced with a tinge of poison, like, "You should keep moving. Someone will get hurt." It's not in a way that he's saying he'll beat them to death on the spot 😂 but it's a warning that the next game they're in, he won't be helping them. Not one bit. He won't directly kill them, but if anything bad happens, it happens.

♡• Or maybe he'll pick up something about them just by watching them go about their way in the Borderlands, overhear a few conversations, and he's got them. Chishiya has his ways, and by the time he's finished saying what he's had to say, you notice that they're suddenly looking anywhere but in your direction, and Chishiya's satisfied half-smile that only grows when you clock what's going on and give him a glare.

♡• It also makes him rethink, yet again, of how ridiculously lucky he is to have you. After someone tries and ultimately fails to get your attention in a certain way, you'll randomly find Chishiya staring at you for longer than he usually does, or being a little more sentimental. It's just his way of showing you that he appreciates you, that he's truly in love, and never to doubt it. In moments when he's softer and more vulnerable, like late at night or alone on a rooftop, you'll hear it from him, and him saying those words with that intense gaze is aaaghh- 😍

♡• Basically, Chishiya doesn't get jealous in the usual way, not defensive and impulsive, or insecure and stuttery. He's just himself, and at the end of the day, you're one of the very few things that means a lot to him. The only incentive he had to win games before was for the sheer fun of it, really, not because he was desperate to survive, but literally because he could. But now that you've come along, there's one reason he's never had before, and no idiot trying to push their way into your relationship will ruin that reason. Love. 💙

#chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #chishiya shuntaro #shuntaro chishiya #nijiro murakami #alice in borderland chishiya #chishiya fluff #aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #aib x reader #alice in borderland x you #aib netflix #aib s2 #aib season 2 #aib scenarios #alice in borderland s2 #aib s2 spoilers #alice in borderland season 2 #imawa no kuni no alice #alice in borderland spoilers #alice in borderland fanfic #alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no arisu #nijirô murakami #nijiro x reader

[crusadingcookie]

Hey i was wondering if maybe u can do a fic where reader is part of taskforce 141 and most of the time is super focused on the mission and her orders but seems out it it bc its her daughter bday or sum ,and they find out she used to have a family (husband,children the while shabang) but they were murdered or died in a terrorist attack. I just want something really angsty 😭💀

spring daffodils

Also on AO3!

Pairing: TF141 & fem!Reader, mentioned Reader x unnamed!Husband 

Summary: It’s been years since the tragic death of your husband and daughter at the hands of an enemy target you were tracking at the time. On the day of what would have been your daughter’s birthday, something in a mission causes you to break down in front of the rest of the task force. Or: 3k words of the reader crying and Task Force 141 comforting her

Word Count: 3k

Content Warnings: fem!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, crying, brief argument with Ghost at the beginning but nothing too bad, Reader was married and had a child, mentions of death (including death of a child), brief mention of blood, Reader has the codename “Tigress”, this is all strictly platonic, Tigress has that widow trauma so no time for romance, no beta we die like Tigress' family, it's for the angst plot guys I swear

A/N: Thank you for the request, I’m sorry this is kinda late but I hope you enjoy it! The ending is a bit meh but I already felt bad with how late this is. I tried to make this as angsty as possible but with some comfort and a bit of fluff at the end. 

It was spring when you first met him. You were back home after a long, tiring time of non-stop tours and missions. You decided to take a small break of a couple of months before specialising further in your military career. A new café had opened near your home and you often found yourself there, spending the afternoon in the cosy shop. It was where you first met him. You had just picked up your cup of coffee when something bumped into you from behind, causing your coffee to spill all over the front of your shirt. You turned around, ready to have a word with whoever knocked into you when you were met with a ramble of apologies and promises to buy you a new coffee. Soon you found yourself sitting with the man in a private corner of the café, a hot cup of coffee in front of you and a promise of a new shirt to replace the coffee-stained one. One date quickly turned into two, the both of you enraptured with each other. And after a few years, a golden ring adorned your finger. After a year or so of the two of you being married, your daughter was born. A little human being who brought joy and innocence to your life, who did not know of the true horrors her mum faced to keep people like her safe.

=====

And it was spring when they died. The trees were starting to bud and the flowers were starting to bloom again. The sky was finally clear after months of grey clouds and cold winds. Mother Earth was once again encouraging and welcoming new life when their light was snuffed out. A bitter irony. 

The family of crows which lived in your back garden sat in the branches of the tree overlooking your driveway. Watching as you made your way across the driveway and to the front door, observing like a bad omen. Only for you to discover the bodies of your husband and daughter. Shot dead in the very living room of your own home. It was like a silly game of Cluedo, whodunnit and with what? Except this wasn’t a silly game of Cluedo. You knew exactly who had ordered this to be done. 

Their deaths were because of your line of work. A tragic event born from a multitude of failures. The target you were chasing at the time with your old squad had sent out the hit on your family. In a last-ditch attempt to attack your squad in some way. And if he couldn’t get to your squad directly, then he would hurt them indirectly. And that he did. Somehow it got out that you had a family, it shouldn’t have. Someone back at base fucked up because that information should have been strictly secret to prevent these types of situations in the first palace. It should have been redacted behind a big block of black ink on your file. But in the end, your target was the one with the last laugh whilst you were forced to deal with the sight of your husband and daughter murdered in your own home. 

Since that day you have thrown yourself into your work. Sinking in an endless ocean of mission after mission, wanting to give up and stop swimming and yet just as the last breath of air leaves your lungs you find yourself breaking the surface yet again. A never-ending cycle of peace until the storm of grief strikes anew.

Without anyone left back home, it was easy to dedicate everything to the military and a few years later you found yourself recruited by no other than Captain John Price himself. This new task force, the 141, was the closest thing to family you had experienced in a long time. And yet, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to tell the boys about them. About your husband and your little girl. A part of you reasoned that there was no need for them to know, what was the point when their fate has already been engraved in stone and nothing can change the outcome of what happened. Or maybe you were just too much of a coward to confront what happened that day.

What you couldn’t ignore was the current date. Its significance is seared into your mind, a constant reminder of what could have been. Of what you have lost. And of course, the task force was assigned a mission on this day of all days. At first, the mission you and the rest of the task force were on was going well. You always prided yourself in being professional and focused when it came to missions. You knew the seriousness of the situation and followed orders given to you. 

And then it all went to shit. You were already feeling off the moment you woke up. Not even looking at the small desk calendar to remind yourself of the date. As if you haven’t been counting down the days. Like clockwork, waiting for the guilt and grief to wash over you until the tsunami passed and you waited until another 365 days passed to repeat the process.

You and your team had cleared the abandoned village the enemy had set up base in. You were ordered to search and clear one of the buildings in case there were any enemies in hiding. As you methodically made your way through the house you came across what clearly used to be a child’s room. Toys were strewn about, but what caused you to pause was the sight of a teddy bear dropped at the foot of the bed. Intel had informed you that the village was forced to flee as the enemy forces occupied the area, some resisting and resulting in civilian deaths. Your eyes zeroed in on the blood splatter on one of the teddy’s ears, the fake fur matted with the dried liquid. 

“Mum, can I get that teddy pretty pleaasee?”

“Alright sweetie, but only this one okay?”

“Yay thank you! I will name you… hmmm… Sir Stripes!”

You honestly did not remember much after that. The rest of the village was deemed clear and soon you were on the flight back to base. You fought to keep yourself together just for a few more hours until you were back on base and could grieve alone within the confines of your own four walls. Your team watched with concern as you sat, back straight and staring ahead at the hull of the plane. 

A hand on your shoulder jolted you out of your memories. You recognised the face of the pilot and it took you embarrassingly long to realise the rest of the team had already disembarked the plane. You mumbled what you hoped was an intelligible apology and made your way over to the locker room. Thankfully the room was empty, you loved your teammates that was without question. But right now, you didn’t think you could make it much longer until you broke down. With practised ease, you stripped yourself of your gear and it seemed you were lucky enough that no one came to find out why you were taking so long. You should have known by now that luck typically doesn’t go your way. Just as you put away the last of your gear a voice from the doorway interrupted you.

“Care to explain what’s up with you today?” With a deep breath, you turned and faced Ghost. Your lieutenant was standing in the doorway of the armoury, already out of his field gear, although he looked just as intimidating in his normal attire. 

“I don’t know what you mean, the mission was a success.” You said, attempting to feign ignorance. Of course, Ghost saw through that.

“You were out of it” Ghost replied, his eyes piercing into yours, his sharp gaze never leaving you. 

You stayed silent, hoping that he would drop it and let you go so that you could inevitably cry in peace. The two of you stood in silence, staring at each other until Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, looking even more imposing in the doorway.

“Don’t bullshit me Tigress. You were clearly out of it, hell even Soap noticed and you know it takes him long to figure this kind of shit out.” 

“The mission was a success, so I don’t see why this is an issue.” You huffed, starting to get irritated at the man’s persistent probing. Any other day you would be happy to know that the infamous Ghost cared. But right now? Right now you just wanted to be left alone. You just wanted to stew in your grief, let the dark thoughts remind you of what happened. You had to keep the walls up. They can’t know how fucked up your life was. How you failed to protect them. You don’t deserve their comfort.

Ghost shifted at the slight tone in your voice. If it wasn’t clear before that something was bothering you, now it definitely was. “It becomes an issue when one of my soldiers is not thinking clearly in enemy territory.”

“Look, Lieutenant, it's getting late, we’re all tired. This won’t happen again.” You sighed, exasperated by both the exhaustion from the mission and the emotional toll it took on you.

You pushed past the man and made your way to the task force’s shared kitchen area. Hoping to get a fresh glass of water and some snacks before your inevitable break down. Of course Ghost, the stubborn man that he is, followed you. He wasn’t done with this situation and in his own way wanted to make sure you were okay so that you wouldn’t be distracted in future missions. You ignored the rest of your team sitting in the room and beelined straight for the kitchen cupboard, taking out an empty glass.

“This isn’t a joke Tigress. One mistake and it can cost you your life out there” 

“I know that!” You exclaimed in response to Ghost’s voice, not turning around to face the man who had followed you to the common area.

“Do you? Do you know that? Because today, out there it seemed like one of my soldiers was ready to put her life in danger because she wasn’t aware!”

Ghost waits for an answer but when he gets none he continued, “I can’t have you out there acting as if there is nothing for you to go back to back home”

“Well, there is nothing back home!” You yelled out, setting the glass not so gently on the counter. Immediately you closed your eyes in regret of your outburst. 

Ghost faltered for a second, the rest of the team watching you with your back turned to them

You faced the wall, feeling the sting grow stronger in your eyes. You tilted your face up towards the ceiling, hoping it would stave off the tears. The muscles in your jaw tensed as you clenched them in an attempt to keep your composure. 

“Tigress?”

You took a deep breath and turned to face your team. They watched as you faced them, your lip quivering as you fought to contain the sobs building in your throat, eyes brimmed with tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at any second. You rapidly blinked your eyes at the moisture building up in them. 

“I’m gonna go to sleep,” you said with a shaky voice.

“Hey, don’t pull away from us, please. Tell us what’s wrong” Gaz was the first one to break the silence, he got up and moved to stand in front of you. “Are you alright?” he asked, stretching his arms out towards you in a silent offering.

At the sound of his gentle voice the walls you so desperately built to shield your own heart broke. And with them your last composure. You sniffled a few times, inhaling the air up through your nose as your face twisted with both the emotional pain and the effort of not breaking down. You shook your head softly at him, words failing you at this moment due to the lump in your throat and the tight coil wrapped in your chest. You practically dove into Gaz’s outstretched arms, allowing yourself for the first time in years to have this comfort. His arms came down to wrap around you and in the safety of his embrace, the first sob escaped from where you tried to bury it down. The tears quickly followed and found their way down your cheeks. 

The two of you stood there for what felt like hours, Gaz gently rocking you from side to side. Years of built-up grief and anguish finally escaped from where you had buried those feelings deep within your heart, bubbling up into a series of broken sounds escaping your lips. After a few minutes, your sobs calmed down to a few quiet hiccups and sniffles. Another arm joined to draw comforting circles on your back, you tilted your head from where it was resting against Gaz’s chest to see Soap standing next to you. A warm smile on the Scotman’s face. 

“I- um…” you trailed off, your words interrupted by yet another sniffle. 

“Take your time lass,” answered Soap

You sent him a watery smile and pulled your sleeves over your hands to wipe at your eyes as well as your running nose. You coughed to clear the croakiness in your voice and took a deep breath in an effort to calm down.

“I had a husband years ago. We were married and even had a little girl together. This was before I joined the task force and everything,” you paused to accept a tissue from Price, you blew out your nose before continuing. “And well, they were both killed because of my involvement in a case. The target we were tracking sent out the hit.”

“Kid, I had no idea.” Price said, taking your used tissue from your hand and replacing it with a clean one. He may deny that he is the dad of the team, but all of you knew he cared for every single one of you.

“I didn’t want any of you to know. I tried putting that shit behind me. Didn’t want to talk about it, so I left it out of my file.” You explained and with a weak laugh you continue, “she would have been eight today. Her dad would always buy her those supermarket cakes, and if I wasn’t home she would insist I get one as well so that I could eat some cake too.”

All of your teammates’ hearts ached seeing how much pain you carried, how long you probably suffered and grieved for their losses without having anyone to comfort you. Never before had they seen you with this much pain in your voice, you were always the one who got the job done on missions. Who seemed like they had their life together and returned on leave to a happy home life.

You looked up after dabbing at your eyes with the tissue to see Price standing in front of you. You didn’t think you had any tears left in you but at the sight of your Captain, the unofficial dad of the team, with his arms out wide offering you a hug and a soft look in his eyes you felt the tears well up once again. 

You accepted Price’s hug and you felt the distinct lump in the back of your throat build up again and as much as you tried to will it away, it persisted and soon more sobs were forced from you. The smell of cigars and smoke enveloped you in the warmth of his embrace. Price only pulled you closer to his chest at the sound of your sobs, allowing you to fully bury your face into his shirt, no doubt wetting the fabric with your tears.

Soon Gaz joined you two, tears of his own in his eyes. Price reached up with one of his arms and pulled the younger man in. Soap followed shortly after and finally, you felt gentle yet firm arms enveloping all of you. You looked up to see Ghost, a rare soft look in his eyes and a silent apology for having pushed you for answers earlier. 

You felt safe here in the big, warm group hug of your teammates and slowly your sobs dwindled until they completely died down.

“I have some pictures I can show you guys,” you disentangled yourself from the group hug to move to one of the couches and took out your phone, scrolling past pictures of the task force members as well as pictures of your old team. You finally found your favourite picture, it shows your husband and daughter together, a tiger plushie clutched in your daughter’s hands. Your team gathered around as you showed them the picture.

“Wait, is that why?” Soap began to ask and you nodded.

“They were her favourite animal. And when she found out about codenames, she practically insisted on that being my codename”

“So like a secret spy!”

“Yes sweetie, it’s a secret spy name”

“Can you choose your own?”

“We can, or it’s a nickname given to us by our friends”

“Ooo how about Tiger? No! Tigress!”

“That’s an amazing idea, honey”

You took a moment to stare at the picture, smiling at how happy they both looked in it. Your hand which held the crumpled tissue reached up to lightly dab at the tears welling up in your eyes again. You accepted another tissue from Ghost this time, where he got them from you had no idea but you were grateful for it anyways. 

The rest of the evening was spent with all of you sharing various stories from over the years. Tucked in between your teammates, tired from the emotional day, you felt a sense of home. Something which you hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

#female reader #cod mw2 x reader #reader insert #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod x reader #taskforce 141 x reader #141 x reader #angst #fluff #taskforce 141 #cod ghost #cod soap #let me know if there are any mistakes #thank you and i hope you enjoy

[curiositydooropened]

Group Therapy

Steve’s friends encouraged him to attend group therapy, to push past the nightmares and insomnia. In such a small community of sufferers, he didn’t expect to meet you.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female!Reader

Wordcount: 15,461

Warnings: group therapy, trauma, PTSD, nudity, recreational drug use, minor character death (not canon characters). It's therapy, guys. There's a lot of angst, guilt, speaking of dead loved ones, etc.

This fic is incomplete. This is just part one, but I was dying to get it out, so here it is. There's a bit of a cliffhanger/questions unanswered, but those will be answered in the next part! xo

Navigation • Masterlist

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Joyce suggested group therapy. She knew of a group that met weekly in the old DMV building. Steve wasn’t one to sit in chairs and talk about his feelings (although he pressured the kids to do as much every time he saw them), but he wasn’t one to deny the advice of a woman that cared for him like he hoped a mother would. 

Joyce Byers often surprised him with those sentiments, dragging him from his car by the scruff of his neck to partake in family dinners with the kids or asking about the various dates with various girls she’d seen him on and with around town. She worried over his headaches, offering tried-and-true remedies, and all-but drove him to the optometrist to get his eyes checked. 

Much to his chagrin, he had needed glasses, and much to Robin’s chagrin, he only wore them around Mrs. Byers or the kids, who would tattle on him if he didn’t. 

So, when Joyce cornered him on Labor Day, after watching the skittered reactions of each sound effect the kids made during their weekly DnD game, Steve couldn’t argue with her logic. 

“I found this flyer. I’ve gone a few times, but it’s on Thursdays and Thursdays are difficult with work,” she explained, placing the leaflet into his hand. “But it’s a good group of people, and I’ve seen a few young people go. I do really think it’d be nice to be able to talk to kids your own age, you know?” 

He shrugged and offered a weak smile, and if anyone else had recommended it, he probably would have shrugged it off, crumpled the paper and tossed it into the bin at the end of the McDonald’s drive through. But it was Joyce, and she wouldn’t have mentioned it if she wasn’t genuinely concerned. 

So on Thursday night, when the sad streets of Hawkins cleared of construction workers and the few loyal townsfolk driving home from their 9-to-5s, Steve gripped 10-and-2 and inched his way to the old DMV parking lot. He pulled into the same spot he did when he got his license three years ago, and he was surprised to see the lot littered with vehicles from all sorts of residents from Hawkins and the surrounding county. It took him a shaky breath or two to muster the courage to go inside, but he figured this couldn’t be worse than killing a few inter dimension monsters. 

Before he exited his car, he pulled his glasses from their case in the center console and slipped them up the bridge of his nose, hooking them over his ears, and as the dimly lit concrete building got a little sharper, and his headache began to alleviate, he left the car and walked toward the front doors.

The collection of chairs made a perfect circle in the center of the room, but only two people sat, the rest mingling near a coffee carafe and a giant box of doughnuts. Steve found himself jittery enough, and jelly doughnuts still reminded him too much of the gaping hole in Eddie’s ceiling, so he opted to skip refreshments and find himself a seat in the circle.

His hand shook against the cool metal of the chair, from nerves or excessive damage to his nervous system, he was never quite sure anymore. He clenched his fist to squeeze past the tremor and seat himself, glancing down at the watch on his wrist to avoid the gaze of the others around the circle. He had to check the time three more times before his brain registered what time it actually was, and by then, the others had started to find seats around the circle. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and offered a shy smile to the woman who sat beside him. She seemed wary of his presence, but smiled politely in return. And because that exchange felt safe enough, he ventured a glance around the circle. He was surprised to see about twenty people, in various stages of life and dress, mostly cheerful, swapping mumbled greetings and shuffling into their seats to get comfortable. 

The slam of door closing startled everyone to silence though, mood shifting to static as a woman in a tight-fitting skirt suit clacked across the linoleum toward the circle, waving the legal pad in her hand. “Sorry, sorry! Just me.” She explained, finding her seat directly at Steve’s eleven. She glanced up from wire-rimmed glasses, similar to Steve’s and flashed him the brightest smile he’d seen in a long time.

“I see we have a few new faces this evening,” she glanced around to avoid Steve the embarrassment, but he felt heat fan at his face as attention drew his direction. 

“That’s great. Let’s all be sure to welcome them warmly.” She continued. “For those of you who don’t know, this is a group therapy session. We talk about our feelings here. This is a judgement-free zone, and we would really appreciate it if the things shared didn’t leave this room. What happens in group therapy stays in group therapy, right?” 

The group around him let out a chorus of tired agreement, as though they’d heard the spiel week after week. 

“Great. Now I do feel the need to preface that we talk a lot about loss during these sessions. Loss of loved ones, loss of homes, loss of control. If it gets to be too much for anyone, I encourage you bow out. You know your own boundaries better than the rest of us, but we also want you to know that some of us have found a real community here, and we’re here to welcome you with open arms.” This time, she spoke directly to Steve.

He offered a tight-lipped smile, but suddenly found his hands interesting to look at, the crags of scarring across his knuckles, the callouses that littered his palm over the last few months. 

“Let’s start with an ice-breaker, shall we? We’ll go around the circle and share our name and say a hobby we’ve picked up recently! We haven’t done hobbies in a few weeks, right?” A chorus of no’s filtered through the circle. She clapped her hands together. “Perfect. I’ll start. Hi, I’m Cheryl, and a few weeks ago, my friends got me hooked on couponing. Have you heard of that? Where you cut coupons out of the Sunday morning paper? I got my groceries for half the price!” 

“Half the price?” The woman beside Steve startled him. She seemed genuinely intrigued. 

Cheryl grinned, winked. “I’ll tell you all about it after this. Go ahead, dear.” 

And then beside Cheryl, voice raspy yet calm, you spoke your name and Steve’s attention was drawn to you like gravity. Joyce had mentioned people his age, but at first glance around the circle, no one here was younger than their 30s, no one but you. Your hair was shoved under a knit cap, and buttons of your denim jacket clacked against one another as you adjusted in your seat, tucking one sneakered foot up on the chair with you. Steve leaned a little closer on his knees to hear what you had to say. 

“I’ve picked up cooking, mostly out of necessity,” you tucked your chin to your knee and finally ventured a glance Steve’s direction. “Learned how to put out a grease fire on Friday.” Your eyes flared a challenge, a rebellious streak that sent something through Steve as he watched your eyes observe his frame. He sat up a little straighter under your scrutiny, and you turned to hear the comments being made in regards to your answer to the prompt. “I might be able to manage a casserole. Give me a month.” 

And it went that way down the line, various people with boring, small-town names talking about crochet and mountain biking. Steve watched them politely, anxiety curdling his stomach the closer around the circle it got to him. Occasionally, he’d glance your direction, as though you’d offer a lifeline, an out. Cheryl smiled encouragingly and every hobby he’d had flew from his memory. 

“And what’s your name?”

“Uh…” His throat was dry. “Steve. I’m Steve.” 

“Hi, Steve,” the room echoed, led by your conducting arms. The call startled him, and the room was reduced to chuckles at the apparent inside joke. Steve noticed the way you hid your laughs behind a hand, cuff of your sleeve pulled up over your knuckles.

“Ignore them,” Cheryl reprimanded, rolling her eyes. “Tell us one of your hobbies.”

Hobbies, hobbies. He swallowed, glanced around the room, trying to recall the pastimes of the others’. He definitely didn’t cook or coupon. He scratch a particular grading itch at the back of his neck and shrugged. “I swam in high school.” 

“Okay, swimming’s cool,” Cheryl encouraged, smile too bright, blinding. “What about now? Do you still swim?” 

He winced. Swimming and him hadn’t gotten along in recent years, what with Barb and Water Gate. “Yeah, not really.” 

“Well what do you like to do for fun?” 

Joyce hadn’t prepared him for the questions he’d be asked. Once again, head-empty, he wracked for something he did in his free time. Chauffeur little shits to the arcade and back? Watch them play their nerd game? None of those really constituted as fun, and he couldn’t exactly let a group of total strangers know that his most relaxed moments were spent at Hopper’s old cabin sharing a joint between co-trauma-victims.

He licked his lips and considered dates he’d been on recently. Out of habit, his eyes flickered to you. Your head was tilted to one side, expression expectant, and he realized he’d taken too long. 

He blinked and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Um, driving? I really enjoy just going for long drives. Does that count?” 

“Of course it does. Driving is a great way to let off steam.” Cheryl expressed with too bouncy of a nod. 

“Kind of car you got, kid?” A grumpy old man asked off to the right. 

Steve turned to face him. “BMW 733i. It’s an ’83.” 

The man whistled, nodded. “German-mades are good cars.”

“Got a good sound system?” A man asked from the opposite side of the circle.

Steve shrugged, nodded, ran a hand through his hair, nearly knocking his glasses off. He still wasn’t used to them. “It’s pretty good. Bass doesn’t blow me out.”

When that man offered a hum of approval, he felt himself warm a little, like that little hum was the acceptance of the group. He relaxed a bit further into his chair and the woman beside him, Mina, took over, discussing her doll collection at length. 

It continued this way around the circle, people discussing their interests like this wasn’t a group therapy session, like you weren’t all here to discuss what had happened to you or who Vecna had removed from your lives. You were just a circle of humans getting to know one another and talking about your passions, and Steve felt a bit soft about it. He even pitched in the conversation at one point when Carl, the sound system specialist, spoke about building his record collection. Steve offered a signed copy of a Kenny Rogers album he knew his dad wouldn’t miss. Carl seemed elated. Steve felt proud to be useful. 

When he looked away, your gaze caught him, eyes narrowed in suspicion at his gesture, and he felt his face heat and he looked away. He didn’t recognize you, didn’t think he’d seen you before, but that insecurity lingered, the fear that you’d gone to school with him and King Steve had been a total dick to you.

“Alright,” Cheryl clapped her hands together. “That was fun. Shall we talk about the tough stuff now? Who wants to go first?” 

—

No one made him talk, and for that he was grateful. He sat in silence, just soaking up the stories and the heartache, driving that ceaseless guilt a little further. He caught emotion in his throat at one point, during a particularly heartfelt story about Mina missing her niece and nephew for Labor Day, and he had to force himself to think about something else, anything else while he wiped the sting from his nostrils. 

When you all stood, at the end of the session, he had half a mind to bolt, to leave and never return, to never mention it to Joyce. He prayed the rest of you would forget his existence, although he’d never forget all of you, your stories, the waver in voices as stories were passed around. He wanted to run, but Carl stopped him with a sturdy hand clapped to his shoulder, and then Elmer approached and the two men asked him questions about his car, eased him back from the anxiety tightening the collar of his shirt. 

The older men argued about BMW versus Saab, and Steve found his attention straying from the conversation, as it often did when his dad and his uncle got into similar arguments over holiday dinners. He found you, pinching the edge of a glazed doughnut. You seemed unimpressed and unengaged in the conversations starting to pitter out as one-by-one, people started to leave. 

Elmer shook Steve’s hand, excuse himself, and Carl did the same. Steve pulled his keys from his jacket pocket and followed them out, a crisp chill falling over the lot. He breathed fog and glanced upward at a cloudless sky.

“Stars look weird, huh? After all that smoke.” A voice from below startled him, and he looked to find you sidled up next to him, hands shoved into your jacket pockets. 

“Really weird,” he agreed, but he couldn’t turn back to the twinkling night sky, not when you were standing beside him, staring up at the cosmos in wonderment, moonlight painting your skin a pale blue. “I’m sorry, but do I know you from somewhere?” He didn’t feel the sting of familiarity, but he figured the question was good to cover his bases. 

You tilted your head to face his and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Don’t think so.” You pulled a hand from your pocket to offer it his direction, reintroducing yourself. 

He took your hand, small and warm from the insulation of your jacket. “Steve.” 

“Steve who swam in high school and drives now.” You affirmed with a nod, placing your hand back in your pocket.

He chuckled and nodded. “That’s me.” He gestured to the car.

You offered a whistle to mimic Elmer’s, as though his car was something to marvel at, and that made a laugh bubble from his lips again. He liked the way you smiled at his laugh, as though you were proud you pulled it from him. He thought of Joyce always trying to cheer him up, of her placing the flyer in his hands. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

You quirked an eyebrow, but shrugged. “Shoot.” 

“Is this…” He glanced backward at the building, now void of light, doors locked, quiet. “Is this group therapy thing helping you at all?” 

“Honestly?” You brought a thumb to your lips to chew at the corner of your nail, and you waited for him to nod before you shrugged. “Kind of. It’s nice to have people to talk to. Better than letting it stew.”

He knew what you meant, the guilt that bubbled there, just under the surface. He nodded. Then felt a little braver. “Do you come every week?” 

You shrugged again, nodded. “Nothing better to do.” 

“Except putting out grease fires,” he pointed out, tested the water with a tease, let you know he was listening. He didn’t know why he felt so desperate for your validation now, felt pride when his joked pulled a smile from your lips, your eyes rolling. 

“Uh huh.” You took a few steps away from him. “Have a good night, Steve. See you next week.” 

“See you.” He waited until you were in your car with the ignition on before he pulled out of the lot.

—

The following Thursday took twice the courage. Steve considered dragging Robin along, or even Eddie, but Robin had to work and Eddie still wasn’t widely accepted in the greater Roane County area. So, with a few steady breaths, he entered the little concrete building with a Kenny Rogers album under his arm. Carl stood from the circle to greet him, taking the vinyl to admire it, and Elmer met them near the snacks table to discuss a model BMW he found in his catalog, wanted to know if Steve would like him to buy it with his next order.

The men were much older than Steve, and gruff with their greetings, stiff upper-lip and all that, and Steve felt himself shy under their attention, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of his feet, searching the room for a familiar face. Well, if he was being honest, he was searching for you.

“Or not, saves me a few bucks that I could use on a Thunderbird I was looking at,” Elmer grumbled under his breath when Steve hadn’t responded, and the younger boy shook his hair from his eyes.

“No, no. It’d be really cool if you ordered the model for me,” he offered a smile. “I have a friend that paints models.” 

It took ages to be allowed into Erica’s room, only permitted to babysit her from the doorway with crossed arms and a frown, but one day she finally asked for his opinion on a paint job she’d done on a model dragon. Eddie had commissioned her, paid her extra to keep the Big Bad a secret from the boys, but she wasn’t sure about the gold. So when she called him in with an “okay, shithead, you can come in”, Steve made sure to really admire her handiwork. He’d never forget the proud smile etched into her sweet little face.

“It’s a fine art,” he continued. “I’d love to try.” 

Elmer puffed his chest the way Erica did, grumbled in agreement.

 This time, Steve felt brave enough to pour himself a Styrofoam cup of coffee. It thawed his cold fingers and scalded the roof of his mouth. The doughnuts had been swapped for deli sandwiches, but all of the non-veggie ones had been taken by the time he got there. He stuck with the coffee and found his way to his seat, the same as last week, semi-in hopes that you’d find your same seat across from him. 

He’d dressed to impress, after all. A newly purchased green sweater warmed him, hugged his biceps how he liked, and his favorite pair of Levis. Well, not his favorites, those still held a few blood stains, but these were similar and new. He didn’t wear his glasses either, still self-conscious that they made his nose too square and his eyes too round. At least, that’s what Mom said when he showed her. She reprimanded him for not taking her to pick them out. 

He looked around the circle at mostly blurred faces, a few familiar, like Mina beside him, Carl and Elmer. Cheryl clacked her way to her seat at his eleven once more, repeated the spiel from last week. Your chair, along with about five others, remained empty. 

Steve couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the door every few minutes, between ice-breaker introductions. He sputtered “uh… tiger?” for his favorite animal because again, caught in the moment, he couldn’t think of a single other animal save a Demodog or Demobat, and in this crowd, a joke like that wouldn’t go over so well. 

A woman named Dolores, who he recalled from last week, spoke about her struggles at the grocery store this week, staring at her husband’s favorite box of cereal. A man named Jeffrey started to speak about hearing his daughter’s voice everywhere he went, when the door slammed open, startling them all. 

Steve spun in his chair to see you enter, bleary eyed and sniffle nosed. You didn’t flinch to find all eyes on you, just turned your attention to the coffee table and picked up a sandwich to take a bite from. 

“Keep going, Jeffrey,” Cheryl encouraged, and the group turned back around to face the man speaking his tragic tale. 

Steve had lost all focus. He side-eyed you, watch your hand tremble around the carafe handle, ached to stand up and assist you. He glanced to Cheryl to confirm her eyes were on him. She sent him a pointed look and pointed a well-manicured fingernail Jeffrey’s direction, like a school teacher during a guest lecturer.

“And just this morning,” Jeffrey continued, voice wavering, “as I opened up the garage door, I heard her say - “

“Fuck!” Your voice rang out, followed by the ruckus of the carafe and your cup and sandwich crashing to the ground. Coffee and vegetables littered the linoleum, painting the yellowed tiles a deep brown. 

The entire circle flinched. Steve leapt from his seat to help you, but Mina pulled him down by the cuff of his sleeve, which she used to help herself from her seated position. “You sit, honey. I’ll help her.” 

Steve ventured another glance your direction. You were nursing the edge of your hand with your lips, skin likely scalded, and tears were now cascading over your florescent-kissed cheekbones. You sucked in a sob and pulled a fistful of napkins off the table to start to soak up the mess when Mina met you and placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you. She mumbled something, and you nodded, turning to leave. Just before you did, you glanced up at the circle and met Steve’s gaze, and when he found the sorrow there, he realized he’d do anything to will it away, to bring back that half-cocked smile from the week before.

“Keep going, Jeffrey. What did you hear her say when you opened the garage door?” Cheryl pressed on, as though your interruption hadn’t occurred, as though Steve would be able to focus on anything else.

—

The tangy sweet scent of marijuana wafted from the patchwork furniture set all the way through boarded-up rafters. The chill of autumn set in, and Steve’s teeth chattered between each hit of the joint, and he huddled tighter into Robin’s tiny frame under the crochet quilt they pulled from the back of Eddie’s van. He felt tired and cold and hungry, and a mystery substance on the quilt was far too close to his face, but he was too cold to move it. With a groan, he settled further into the poorly stuffed cushions and the warm vanilla of Robin’s perfume. 

“No groaning, man. You’re harshing my mellow,” Eddie swatted at him from the other side of Robin. He was farther gone, one joint in when they got there. Steve was sure the ceiling danced for him, and his leather jacket was probably a whole hell of a lot warmer than Steve’s puffer vest. 

“Steve’s in love,” Robin explained the bad attitude. Ever the linguist, she often translated Steve’s wordless tantrums. She was never right.

He groaned again. “I’m not in love.” He plucked the joint from her ice cold fingers and took another hit, grateful for the deep burn in his chest until it sputtered out of him in a big cloud that rose with the heat through the hole in the roof. 

“Dude, fourteen hot, hot women came into work over the last two days, and you didn’t even say hi. To any of them.” 

He didn’t recall fourteen, maybe one or two. Beside, he was busy stacking shelves and searching the database for all of the Hawkins residents with your name. 

“Jesus,” Eddie giggled. “You are in love. So who’s the broad? Is she hot?” 

Steve groaned and warmed the tip of his nose on Robin’s shoulder, lest it freeze and fall off. Robin squeaked when it brushed her skin, and she sent a punch to his ribs. “Ow, fuck,” he whined, rubbing at the growing bruise, but something about the grin on Robin’s face made him chuckle. 

This made Robin sputter a laugh, and Eddie chimed in with his voracious little giggle, and soon they were a mess of laughter, clutching at their sides to catch their breaths, tears in their eyes, the chill of autumn almost forgotten. 

“I’m hungry,” Eddie sighed, pushing himself up off the couch with minor difficulty. He drug his feet to the cupboards. The cabin hadn’t been properly stocked in months, maybe a year. They ate the last bag of popcorn last time, and Steve forgot to pick up supplies on his way in from work. “Either of you know how to cook?” 

“Steve’s girlfriend’s a chef.” Robin snickered, eyes squeezed tight to avoid the spin of the stars. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Steve huffed. That’s not even what he wanted, not even the point of asking Robin if she knew anyone with your name, anyone that looked like you. He wasn’t interested in dating you. He wanted to make sure you were okay. 

“You met her at a restaurant?” Eddie tried to piece together the story. “Do they deliver?” 

“I met her at group therapy,” Steve ran a tired hand down his face, completely knocking his glasses free. When had he put those on? 

“So she’s a nutter like you then,” Eddie grinned, and Robin burst back into that raspy laugh that would normally send Steve into his own giggle fit if he wasn’t so irritated by the accusation. 

“She’s not a nutter. She’s been through some hard shit. We all fucking have,” he snapped, stirring his attention to a loose strand of red polyester near his sightline on the cushion. 

His smoking buddies quieted their laughs. Robin sunk into him, curling her head into the crook of his neck. She was cuddly high and flirty drunk, and Steve hated the melt of his heart when she did this. She was like a cat, obnoxiously free-willed and too smart for her own damn good. And she knew when to turn on the charm to avoid a confrontation. 

“Hey, Steve,” Eddie called from the kitchen.

Steve hummed a response, annoyance temporarily tampered. 

“Mellow harshed.” Eddie flipped him the bird. 

Robin’s head bobbed under his chin, setting him off, and the three of them started to chuckle again.

—

Week three, Steve arrived early, snatched a maple bar and found his seat, sneaker tapping linoleum subconsciously while he stared at the entrance. Everyone else mingled, and Carl and Elmer offered friendly waves from their place in line for coffee, but Steve was waiting for you. An entire week he spent searching for you. Henderson even made a few fake sales calls from the phone directory, but all searches had come up void. You were like a ghost. And after day six, he thought maybe he had imagined you. 

It would be the next logical step. Head trauma could lead to migraines, tremors, poor eye-sight, bad hearing, why not add hallucinations to the list? If he made you up, his brain did a really good job with the fine details. He could still see the frayed edges at the cuffs of your denim jacket, could still hear the click of metal buttons against one another as you repositioned yourself in your chair.

You cleared your throat, and he realized you’d come and sat across from him, and he was staring. 

He swallowed, nearly choked when he realized he had a bite of doughnut in his mouth. It went down too large, unchewed. He felt it roll down his esophagus into an empty stomach and he winced, coughed. “Hi,” he managed finally, throat dry. 

“Y’okay?” You bit back a laugh, smiling forming at the corners of your lips, wrinkling your eyes, and Steve thought he could fly. It was an excellent improvement from last week. 

He nodded. “Are you?”

You caught the subtext in his question and he watched your expression pinch as you found the frayed edge of your jacket with your fingers. He wanted to stand, to sit beside you, to make you smile again, to laugh. 

But the doors slammed shut and everyone not seated had moseyed to their seats. The room was emptier than last week, and Steve felt a twinge of panic that people were leaving, that they felt healed and no longer needed to come, and he wondered if you felt that way too. Cheryl sat in royal blue and spoke her spiel like she hadn’t rehearsed it, and once again, to her left, you started the ice-breaker round with your name and your favorite book, Peter Pan.

Steve’s heart thumped in his chest at the odd bit of information. A boy who collected kids, who was too pressured by the adults in his life to grow up, a boy at odds with his own shadow, intrigued by a girl from a far-off land. He realized he was staring again when you offered him wide-eyes, mockingly telling him off, but the smile edged on your pink lips again, and he settled into his chair, satisfied once more.

Once the ice-breaker round had finished (Steve muttered something about Sherlock Holmes, running a hand through is hair. He knew the gist, and he thought you seemed impressed, maybe intrigued? You cocked an eyebrow at his answer.), he felt a little less comfortable in his chair. If was being totally honest, he’d hoped you’d open up about last week, about what made you so sad, so helpless. It had been eating him up inside. So, he focused his gaze on you when Cheryl asked who wanted to start, and you kept your eyes on the squeak of your sneakers against the floor. 

“Steve, how about you?”

Steve blinked at the sound of his name, sat at attention. 

“You’re our newest member of the group. How are you feeling about it? Would you like to share maybe what brought you to us?” Cheryl’s voice was the softest he’d heard it, a sweet lull that reminded him achingly of Joyce, like a soft hand brushing hair from his forehead. 

He swallowed, felt all eyes on him, all except yours. He took a deep breath and looked at Cheryl. She offered the most understanding of smiles. He licked his lips. 

“I don’t um… I don’t really know how to start.” His hands were trembling, and he shoved them under his ass, but that caused the chain reaction of his knee bobbing wildly, heel lifted from the ground. 

“How did you find out about the group?” Cheryl asked. 

“Oh, a friend’s mom gave me the flyer. Told me I should check it out.” 

Cheryl nodded. “She was worried about you?” 

It hurt to hear someone else say it. “I guess so.” 

“It was sweet of her to think of you,” she smiled. “What do you think worries her?” 

He thought about it too often, harbored too much guilt for being a burden on Mrs. Byers, on them all. He swallowed back the lump in his throat, probably the doughnut still lodged there somewhere. “I don’t sleep much, and um… I guess I startle too easily.” 

Proving his point, a chorus of agreements from the circle scared him back to reality, and he realized there was a room full of people listening intently, a room full of people that encountered the same problems. 

“What’s keeping you from sleeping?” 

He shifted in his seat again, hands red and creased, pulsing as the blood returned to the tips of his fingers. “Nightmares, mostly. I have this horrible recurring dream.” He shuddered to think of it.

“Tell us about it.” 

He swallowed, ventured a glance your direction. You had your thumbnail to your lips again, but you offered a nod of encouragement. He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, um…” He’d have to censor it. These people knew about the monsters, the horror, but not the specifics. They didn’t know the metallic tang of Demobat blood. They didn’t know the din of a Grandfather clock chiming Max’s death, the downfall of their town. He squeezed his eyes shut to quell the echoing, ground himself in a room that wasn’t shaking from seismic activity. 

“I have dreams about my grandma,” you chimed in, and Steve’s eyes slammed open to watch you pull the attention away. You sat up straight in your seat. “They’re always the same. We’re in her kitchen, and she’s making a beef stew. So I’m cutting the celery for her. And she tells me I’m doing a great job.” Your voice wavers on the last weird, and Steve watches the sorrow slip over your features again. You went somewhere else, far off, somewhere painful, for a split second. 

“But you feel like you’re disappointing her?” Steve braved his question, and to his surprise, and yours, you nodded, wiping a tear from your cheek before it could slip down your soft skin. He nodded. “Mine too. All of my dreams are about my friends, and in all of them, I just…” He shrugged. “Let them down.” 

“I have this dream that I’m dancing with my wife,” Carl pitched in. “We’re swaying to Miles Davis, and she’s laughing. It’s so real, I can smell her perfume. That one’s almost worse than the dreams about monsters.”

The group mutters in agreement. “I have a dream about my niece playing in the back yard,” Mina agrees. 

Steve doesn’t pull his gaze from you as people continue to share their dream stories. You offer a sad smile, and bring your knee up to your chest before turning your attention to the next speaker. He continued to watch you, the soft cough of a laugh, the upturn of your lips. Maybe Robin was right. 

—

Week Four brought on scarves and gloves, the squeak of wet shoes against linoleum. Elmer brought a large box with a model and paints and brushes, which he shoved under Steve’s chair with furrowed brows and gruff instructions. Carl was humming The Gambler. Steve felt warm, and when he shrugged out of his puffy vest, draping it on the back of his chair, the warmth didn’t cease. It was the same warmth he felt on DnD nights, when he sat on the sofa and read the latest issue of Sport’s Illustrated and Dustin shot spitballs at him from across the table. It was the same warmth he felt when Robin got high and tucked herself into the crook of his neck and gushed about Vickie’s perfect face. 

He pushed the sleeves of his sweater up to the crooks of his elbows and waited for the rest of the group to file in when a voice from Mina’s chair startled him.

“Hey.” It was you.

He blinked your direction, picking out the lines of your face from this close, a soft twinkle in your eye. You looked flushed, a bit out of breath, and that set a screw loose inside of him somewhere. He could feel it tinkering around, bouncing off his gears. “Hey,” he breathed.

The door slammed closed, eliciting a communal gasp like it did every week, and you straightened yourself beside him, shrugging out of your denim jacket to expose an oversized sweatshirt, forest green with torn cuffs and a screen printed watercolor of a national park, Yellowstone, maybe? He couldn’t make out the scrawl that had been eaten away by the washing machine. Cheryl clacked her way across from you both.

“Listen,” you hissed, catching his attention again. “I need to talk to Cheryl for a second after this is over, but I want to give you something. Will you wait for me?” You spoke under your breath, out of the side of your mouth, like a secret, and Steve couldn’t help the laugh that caught on his tongue. 

“Yeah, I can probably do that.” 

“Good,” again, you didn’t look at him, facing the group, but he watched your front teeth catch on your bottom lip, fighting back a smile. He liked that he could appreciate the details of you from this close, the wisps of hair on your temples, poking out from beneath that same, grey knit cap, the soft blue gems of your earrings, barely noticeable if it weren’t for this angle, the soft gold chain that lay on your neck, its pendant falling somewhere beyond the collar of your shirt.

“Shall we break some ice?” Cheryl clapped her hands together, yanking him out of the daze that was all you. The woman leading the group sent him a knowing look, eyebrow cocked over her glasses, and Steve cursed under his breath. This was going to be a long night.

This session had been the worst of them so far. Carl kicked it off by voicing his frustrations about the aches he felt in his shoulder when the weather got cold. It’d always been bad. He blew his shoulder out when he was much younger, playing baseball. The injury reinstated after his third row of buckshot in the direction of one of those things.

Mina felt it too. She called it a shift in seismic pressure. Her arthritis had never been worse. Along with the nightmares, she suffered severe migraines, not to mention the hospital bills. 

Don’t get Jeffrey started on hospital bills. His daughter was kept on life support for just over a month before she passed. He’d been paying for the rest of his life, which was about four times the life amount of time she got. 

Elmer broke his arm in three places. Colleen busted her ankle tripping over a leyline or rubble, something of the sort. With each talk, Steve felt himself growing more and more anxious. He was hot, too hot, and the guilt he felt for his friends just compacted, knowing his mistakes affected so many more people. So many more than Joyce liked to remind him he saved.

He felt sick, the coffee twisting in a mostly empty stomach. His temple throbbed, eyes winced under the buzz of the florescents. His own body ached, where ribs healed and shoulders popped back into place. His teeth hurt, feeling all of those punches all over again, and he was just a fucking kid. He couldn’t imagine what everyone else felt, was feeling. 

When the meeting ended, he shuffled upright in silence, sliding his vest back on and stuffing the box of paint under one arm to scurry out of there with the rest of the group. He’d tossed the box in the trunk, with the bat, hands itching to round the handle, to poke holes in something meaty and fleshy and horrifying. He slammed the trunk and hopped into the driver’s side to start the ignition and warm himself up. He needed a stiff drink and a hot shower, or maybe he just needed a drive.

He cranked the heater until the windshield fogged and massaged the leather of his steering wheel into the pads of his palms. He popped the clutch in and shifted into reverse, throwing his hand over the headrest of the passenger’s seat until he noticed your car behind him. The lights were off and it sat cold. Shit. He almost forgot. 

He took the car out of gear and tried to relax his shoulders, tried to excite himself about what you could possibly have to talk to him about. He couldn’t imagine past the pain, the guilt. You were probably going to condemn him for the shit he put you through, complain about some stab to the back that would never, could never fully heal. 

He screamed and gripped the steering wheel, shaking it as much as he could in its locked position along the column. Mostly, he shook himself. Just when he thought he was getting better. Fuck.

His lungs felt tight when you exited, Cheryl in tow, locking up behind you. The two of you muttered, making eyes his direction, and Cheryl offered him a wave before walking to her car, and you separated to walk to the passenger side of his car. He leaned over to unlock the door for you, moving his scarf from the seat so you could sit down. 

You sunk into the seat with a sigh, breath fogged, and closed the door behind you. “It’s nice and warm in here,” you shivered, holding small hands to the vents of his heater. 

He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing, waiting on you.

You glanced at him from under your lashes and shoved your hands into the pockets of your denim jacket. “I thought you ditched me.” 

“I uh…” He swallowed. He couldn’t lie to you, but he didn’t want you to know he forgot. “Nope.” Smooth.

He could just make you out in the reflection of his headlights against the wall, a splash of warm yellow across your features, and you seemed to be watching him the same way he watched you, a bit timid, unsure. 

“So,” you spoke simultaneously, followed by nervous laughter. 

“You go,” Steve gestured, chewing the inside of his cheek. 

You breathed, relaxed into the seat beside him. “Okay, I feel stupid. This is maybe kind of stupid.” 

“What?” He smiled. He could never find you stupid. 

“I just don’t have many friends here that are my age.” You sputtered around the words, taking time with them, but your face scrunched up as though you weren’t pleased with the way the sentence played out. 

“You want to be my friend?” He could have flown. 

“God, no,” you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave away the sarcasm. “I just figured you might be a bigger loser than me and would want to be my friend.” You explained, releasing a dry laugh in case he couldn’t pick up the joking tone. 

“Oooh, I don’t know. Two losers being friends? Isn’t that against the rules?” He teased back.

You scrunched up your nose. “You’re probably right.” 

“Hey, so,” he ran a hand through his hair before stretching it to your headrest. Your knit cap brushed against his thumb as you turned to look at him. “Do you want to hang out sometime?” 

You rolled your eyes and pulled a rolled piece of paper from your pocket. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I wanted to give you this, and now it feels like forty times more lame.”

You handed it to him, and he looked from the paper to you and back before starting to unfurl it from one end. You slapped your hands to his to stop him, yours slender and freezing. 

“Don’t look at it now! For Christ’s sake, wait until I’m in my car!”

Steve laughed at the frantic tone of your voice. You were genuinely embarrassed about whatever this was, and that was beyond endearing. You bit back a smile of your own, and Steve rolled it back into the fist of one hand. 

“Whatever I’m leaving.” You pulled the handle and your door popped open, a gust of cold air fanned Steve’s face. “Oh, and I’m not going to be here next week.”

“What? Why?” He frowned. 

You shrugged, turned away from him and exited the car. “Personal stuff. I’ll talk to you soon though maybe?”

He leaned over to see your waggled fingers, watched you pull your keys from your jacket pocket. “Okay, sure.” 

“Bye, Steve,” you smiled, and he waved before you closed the door.

—

“I thought I was having a stroke,” Steve sighed, passing the note you’d given him to Robin. She unfurled it, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the scattered page of numbers and letters you’d scrawled between the blue rule of notebook paper. 

“Looks like a pretty standard cypher to me,” Erica pointed out, connecting the dots with her finger to the page. “Letters are numbers, numbers are letters.” 

“Nerd,” Dustin took glee in the nickname, and Erica flipped him the bird. 

“She’s right, Steve. This is low level shit.” Robin pulled the phone along the counter, the ringer dinging over the split in sections. “C’mere.” She tugged at the crook of Steve’s elbow until he stood over her and the note, pointing out exactly how you’d created the cypher. “It’s like the numbers on a phone, see? So B would be 2, K is 5, O is 6, get it?” 

Dustin handed her a pen from the cup near the register, and Robin began to translate all of the letters until she had a seven digit number. “Holy shit, dude. She gave you her number.” Dustin held his hand up for a high-five, and Steve resisted. Though his heart did an odd rhythm against his ribs. 

“Okay, okay, what does the rest of it say?” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, knee bouncing as he leaned on the counter. 

“This part says ‘Call Me.’” Erica tilted her head, pointing to a series of numbers in the middle of the page. 2255 63. 

“How the hell did you get that?” Steve felt a headache pulling between his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Context clues, dumbass.” 

“‘The game’s afoot.’” Dustin read in that British accent he was annoyingly good at. 

“What?” Steve sighed, watching Robin scribble in the rest of the code. 

“It’s Sherlock Holmes.”

Steve was starting to get really irritated with their tone. He sighed, so confused, and waited for Robin to finish her scribbling before she stepped out of his way and handed him the receiver to the phone. He frowned, but took it from her and leaned over the counter to read the translated version of your note. 

The game’s afoot. Call me, Sherlock. Followed by your name and number. He blinked down at it a few times before Robin slammed her fingers down on the phone to spark the dial tone loud and clear. Steve felt his mouth go dry, but he held the phone to his ear and started slamming in numbers. 

It rang once, twice, three times. He glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 5pm. Maybe you were on your way home from work. Should he leave a message? Did they get the numbers right? 

“Hello?” 

He breathed your name. “Hi, it’s Steve.” 

“Steve, oh my God, hey. You solved it that fast, huh? That’s so embarrassing.” The sound of your laughter from the other end made his stomach knot. 

Erica made kissy faces from the other side of the counter, and he shooed her away. Dustin and Robin followed up the kissy faces, and he flipped the three of them off. They backed away with snickers. He turned his back to them and picked up the phone, walking across the check out station for a more private corner. 

“So… now that you’ve called,” you pressed on. He heard bangs from your end, like maybe you were putting away your dishes or groceries, the creak of cupboard hinges. “Are you busy tonight?” 

“Tonight?” He stood up straight, glancing sideways at his friends eavesdropping in a nearby aisle. Robin flashed him a knowing smirk. “I think I’m free tonight.” 

“Great,” he could hear the smile in your voice. “Would you maybe like to go for a drive?” 

“A drive sounds… great.” 

“I’ll give you my address. Got a pen?” 

—

Steve promised Robin a quarter of a week’s pay and that he would ‘get laid’ (which made him incredibly sweaty) to get her to entertain the hooligans for the evening without him. He promised Erica a day’s pay, plus tax, to allow him to bail, and she begrudgingly agreed to paint his model for him. Her eyes lit up when he unveiled the expensive paint and brushes. Dustin didn’t care so much, as long as Steve promised to take care of himself, which always made Steve a little itchy, but he did.

So, with his friends on the back burner for one more evening, he raced in the direction of your house. He recognized the area as you spoke it. You lived off Cherry, very close to where Max lived before her and her mom moved to the trailer park. He always dreaded dropping her home if he saw that blue Camaro looming in the driveway. Billy had left him alone after that night at the Byers, but the sight of him still made Steve a little gun-shy. 

Cherry was dimly lit this time of night, this time of year, a cascade of warmth across a desolate neighborhood. To be fair, most neighborhoods in Hawkins were void of cars or residents anymore, a ghost town. He slipped past Max’s old place, for sale sign still swinging in the yard, and pulled up three doors down at your house. 

It was small, cozy, blue with white trim and the glow of life from inside sheer curtained windows. Steve pulled into a little divot in carved in front of your yard and turned off the ignition. His mom taught him at a young age that it was always polite to pick a girl up at the door. All of the girls he dated seemed impressed so far. 

But for you, when he pitched open the door, you startled him with a “Hello!”, already halfway down the drive. 

“Hey,” Steve smiled over the roof. You hadn’t dressed up for him, which he appreciated, but you no longer wore your knit cap, hair neat and tucked behind your ears. He faltered for a moment, wondering if he should open your door for you, but you were already there and climbing in, so he followed you back into the warmth of his little car. 

“You look nice,” he said. Always good to start with a compliment. 

You flashed a smile and turned to look him over as you buckled your seatbelt. “Thanks, you too. I do like those glasses on you.” 

He felt his smile widen, turning the ignition. “You do?” 

“Yeah, they make you look smart.”

Thank God for that. Steve flipped the headlights back on and pulled himself out of the rut and back onto the road. The pavement was a bit rocky out here, the Earthquake having mixed everything up. Hawkins had prioritized the roadwork through the center of town and less so in the lower income areas. Not that you were lower income. He swallowed. “So, where to?” 

“The Lake?” You asked like he didn’t have a choice, and he felt itchy under the collar. 

“Why the Lake?” He was afraid of your answer.

You shrugged beside him, face illuminated by each passing streetlamp. “I’ve never been.” 

He smiled at that. “It’s a lot nicer in the daytime.” 

“I’m sure it is,” you agreed. “But if we go in the daytime, we’re more likely to get caught.” 

“Get caught?” His adrenaline prickled then. He couldn’t decide if he was more intrigued or terrified, but either way, he stepped on the gas a little harder. 

You ignored his question. “So, Steve who enjoys Sherlock Holmes and driving and Family Ties, tell me about yourself.” You sunk into your chair, lifting your hands to warm on the heater vents like you had the night before. Despite his warmth, Steve leaned to turn up the flow for you. 

“Sounds like you pretty much know it all.” 

You laughed. “Come on, there’s gotta be some dirt in there, right? Everyone has to have at least one fatal flaw.” 

“Sure,” he nodded. “Everyone does. I just don’t. That’s my curse.” 

You threw your head back in a barked laugh this time. He enjoyed the raw sound of it, the curve of your throat under lamplight. 

He shrugged, turned onto the main road, shifting into third. “No, I don’t know. What do you want to know?” 

“What do you really like to do for fun?” You challenged. 

He risked a glance your direction again, and you were turned on the console to watch him, eyes careful, scrutinizing. “Answer for answer?” 

You rolled your eyes and faced front again. “Fine.” 

He slowed down, turned south onto Curly. “I like spending time with my friends. We watch too many movies. Smoke a lot of weed.” 

“Steve, I’m a cop!” You blurted, incredulous, and he might have been alarmed if he didn’t have insider knowledge. You took a moment to gage his reaction before following up with a, “Not intimidated by the 5-0. A bad boy.” 

He snorted. “My friend’s Dad is the Chief of Police.” And the shit he’s seen is way scarier.

“Shit,” you laughed. “You don’t strike me as a stoner, but I’ll accept it as your answer.” 

“Good,” he tutted. “Your turn.” 

“No, no, no. Ask me something new. I don’t want to be the only one coming up with questions here.” 

Steve chuckled at your point and thought for a moment. There were so many things he wanted to ask you. He hoped he’d have all night. He glanced sideways at you, watched you stare out at the trees and fields as they rolled by, truly like you were seeing everything for the first time. Maybe he’d softball you your first one. “What brought you to Hawkins?” 

“Needed a fresh start.” Your tone was a bit clipped, a bit far-off. 

Steve felt the tension twang between you, and tried to alleviate it. “Jesus. Where were you coming from, super max prison?” 

You snorted, quiet for a moment longer before you turned back to face him. “One question at a time. Do you have any pets?”

You two carried on like this for a while. He learned you preferred savory to sweet foods. You didn’t go to college. You had a myriad of pets growing up: dogs, rabbits, lizards. You didn’t play any instruments. You were more of a night owl these days. You didn’t sleep much. 

That, you had in common. Steve slipped into a parking spot a few feet from the boat ramp. This area of the lake was used for campsites in the summer months, boat parties, barbecues. This year had been void of any sort of celebration. No campers pitched tents or parked RVs. And now, nearing November, the shores were sticky with disuse, water bobbing buoys a hundred yards or so in.

“Here she is,” Steve sighed, gripping the steering wheel with clammy palms. His headlights illuminated the dull waves in front of them, cast a warmth on a clear evening. He was thankful not to see past the surface, to the gate below, the tear in dimensions, the gaping maw that swallowed him whole and spat him back out the other side, bruised and bloodied. “Lovers Lake.” 

“Why is it called Lovers Lake?” You asked, your voice more playful than the horrors tickling his spine. He wished he could focus on you, wished he could match your energy. Maybe this was a mistake.

“It’s uh…” He scratched at the base of his neck. “It’s shaped like a heart. From an aerial view.” He made a heart in the air with two pointer fingers, a demonstration in shadows and silhouette. Freddie Mercury crooned softly on the radio. 

“You like to swim, right?” You unclipped your seat belt to get comfortable. 

He shrugged. “I used to. Swim team captain, head lifeguard.” Accolades he used to brag about, still helped him get girls. Now it felt like ash in his mouth. 

“Ever been skinny dipping?” You reached down and were slipping out of your sneakers, your socks. 

“I… wh-what?” He swallowed, suddenly zoned in on your fingers undoing the buttons to your denim jacket. 

“You know… naked, swimming, usually late at night as to not get caught…” You slipped your jacket off your shoulders and made to shuck off your jeans. 

“It’s freezing,” he argued, mouth dry from the curve of your thighs against his car seat.

“You don’t have to join me,” you teased, pulling your sweater over your head. Your hair caught on the wool, creating a static charge. Flyaways stuck up to touch the felted ceiling. 

“You, uh…” He blinked again, tried not to stare at the cups of your bra or the swell of your breasts spilling from it. “You’re going to catch a cold.” 

You shrugged. “I’ve had worse.” You reached behind you to pull at the tab holding your bra together, but as you did so, you leaned fully into his space, warm body against his. He could smell the floral scent of your shampoo. He opened his mouth to ask what you were doing, when you reached past the steering wheel to flick off the headlights, flooding the car and area surround in darkness. 

“No peeking.” You whispered and opened the car door. The dome light turned on, and Steve watched your bra fall to your discarded seat before the door closed and the silhouette of your frame went springing down the ramp toward the water. 

Cursing under his breath, Steve made sure the car was in park and wouldn’t roll, before he got out and followed you. He kept his clothes on, sneakers slipping a little on the ramp, but made his way down a dilapidated wood dock near where he saw the curve of your back disappear into the dark waves. He peered into the water, eyes adjusting to the moonlight cresting too far off, and called your name.

You shushed him from the edge of the dock, fingers holding you afloat, hair slicked back to your head, cheesy smile lighting your features. “This water’s freezing,” your teeth chattered through a laugh.

“I bet,” he winced, remembering the prickle of needles that was ice cold water. “Ever heard of pneumonia?” 

“Ever heard of a rush?” You countered, kicking off from the dock to dunk back under the water and swim a few feet off. He watched the swells of your body as you did so, lumps that rose and fell like waves, soft, unbothered. He wished he had that freedom, wished he didn’t have the knowledge he did, the trauma. 

You popped up a few feet away, gasping for a breath, and Steve felt himself tense. He looked around, wondering how deep it was. If you needed rescuing, he could springboard off the edge of this dock and reach you in seconds. He kicked off the heel of one sneaker.

“Steve!” You called, taking a few breast strokes his direction. “Can I borrow your jacket?” 

He had a blanket tucked into the backseat, which you teased him about. You made him turn around so you could get out of the water, and you let him look again when you’d wrapped yourself in it. You let him swing an arm around you to walk you back to the car, and he cranked the heat. The volume of the vents rivaled the chattering of your teeth, but you laughed louder and went on and on about how great the water felt, how Steve was missing out.

Per your request, Steve drove out of city limits to find a fast food restaurant, somewhere with greasy French fries and a drive-up window, and you pulled a wad of bills from your jacket pocket to buy him a hamburger that he enjoyed on his drive home. You discussed music taste and your lack of involvement in high school clubs or sports, and things remained fairly surface level until you were back on the looping hills of Curly.

“You seemed really upset yesterday,” you started, the softest he’d heard your voice all night.

Steve clenched his jaw around the straw of his Coke, slurped the last syrupy goodness from the icy base. He glanced your direction, your expression of concern cast yellow in lamplight. With a sigh, he placed his cup back into the cupholder. “You could tell, huh?” 

You smiled at that, nodded, hair still damp around your ears. “I’ve got a knack for reading people.” 

“That so?” He felt a smirk tugging as he rounded a particular sharp corner, the one that curved down into Merrill’s. He downshifted a gear. “What am I thinking about now?” 

You didn’t waste a beat. “You’re being flirtatious. Our night’s coming to a close. You saw a boob.” 

He felt warmth lick at his earlobes from the collar of his sweater. He swallowed. “I did not.” He didn’t really. He saw the swell, a curve, under-boob at best, and he knew he’d be thinking about it for days. 

“And,” you interrupted, slender finger prodding at his bicep, “you’re deflecting.”

He deflated a little, mind dragged back to the guilt he’d felt in that room. 

“Hey, I’m not going to make you talk about it, or whatever.” You sounded so casual, like it all rolled off of you, shoving your feet back into socks and shoes. “I just wanted to let you know I picked up on it, and I’m here if you do want to talk.”

Steve licked his lips and waited for a straight-away to watch you, knee to your chest to tie your laces, two bunny ears into a double knot. The pavement sloped downward, into suburbia, and he could already feel you slipping out of his grasp. 

He cleared his throat, turned down Cherry, the long way. “I just feel bad, you know? Guilty. I don’t like seeing all of those nice people hurting.” The honesty felt raw in his throat, like it did every session, like this gas leaking out of him.

You glanced at him then, brows knit in contemplation, and you shrugged. “Everyone hurts sometimes. It’s not your fault.”

“Why are you there?” He asked, tried to sound as casual as you had, but he wanted more, needed more sweet morsels of you to savor for the week ahead. 

You wrapped your fingers tightly around the seatbelt at the center of your chest, thumb playing with a bit of fray there, but your gaze remained on the horizon, on the houses and lights that illuminated your cheekbones in flashes. “I mean, you went because your friend’s mom asked you too, right?” 

Steve shrugged, slowed to a crawl as your little house came into view. 

“Right. And Dolores is there for her husband, and Jeffrey goes for his daughter, and I think maybe we all started going for someone else and ended up showing up for each other.” The way you said it was so resolute, and Steve couldn’t shake off the implication that you were showing up for him. Was he reading too much into that? 

The click of your seatbelt alerted him that he’d stopped, somehow managed to halt just in front of the walkway that led up to your stoop. He scrambled with the buckle of his own belt, ready to walk you up, but paused when he felt a cold hand against his wrist. He looked up to meet your gaze.

“I can walk myself inside.” Again, with the confidence of a different woman, someone he’d only caught glimpses of, out of the conference room and away from metal chairs scraped against linoleum floors.

“When can I see you again?” He was desperate for it, far from calm and collected, missed the grip of your slender fingers when you released him to open the passenger door. The dome light flicked on, bathing you in warmth. He could see a smudge of mascara beneath your eye, the collar of your jacket dipped dark and damp. The corners of your lips turned up into a smile. “Thursday?” 

With one word, your smile was washed away, confidence replaced by timid shoulders, licked lips. You shook your head. “No, I’ll be out Thursday, remember?”

He vaguely remembered, hoped it was a nightmare, some passing fear that you were slipping away from him. “Can I call you?” 

Again, you shook your head, eyebrows folded. “I’ll be out. I’ll call you.” 

He swallowed, that familiar panic crawling up his chest, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he couldn’t wait that long, didn’t want to wait that long. He let out a shaky breath, offered a smile. “Cool.” Smooth.

You chuckled at that, released a breath of a laugh that he wanted to catch and shove into his pocket for safe keeping. You must have noticed his joy at the sound, because your eyes lit with something mischievous, and you rolled them. “God, one look at my tits and you’re like a lost puppy.” 

His face heated, jaw fell open at the mention of them again, and he ran a hand over his face and through his hair, stammering some sort of defense. “I didn’t see them!” He fucking squeaked. 

Your laugh was louder now, back to that groove of comfort and warmth, head thrown back, white teeth sparkling in lamplight. “Goodnight, Steve.” He liked the way his name sounded on your tongue, liked the way your eyes sparkled, the stretch and pout of your lips.

Then you were leaning in, too close, all encompassing. You smelled Earthy, like lake water, and sticky sweet like Coca-Cola, and before Steve had a second to register what was happening, your lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, and you were pulling away. He chased you across the center console, hoping for the sweet taste again, the plush of your lips against his, the warmth of the crook of your elbow, a fingertip, but you were quicker. 

A gust of winter air fanned his face, and he dipped low to see you grinning back from outside the car, fingers waggled his direction. “Thanks for the drive.” 

“I’ll call you,” he promised.

You shook your head, but the smile didn’t falter. “I’ll call you.” You closed the door with a click, dome lamp turning off, and he watched the length of your legs carry you up the walkway to the front porch, light on your feet and bathed in moonlight. 

—

Steve called you the next day, from work, hunched over the counter to hide himself behind a stack of tapes while Robin scrambled to help everyone in the store. You hadn’t answered, voicemail flat and unfriendly. He panicked and hung up before the beep. 

Sunday, Robin convinced him to quit being a stalker, explained that breathing into the receiver was something a serial killer did, and that he didn’t need to come off so clingy, and she was right. So he didn’t try you again.

By Thursday, you still hadn’t called him, and he felt uneasy, like he’d done something entirely wrong. Some stupid Steve Harrington bullshit that had upset you, something he wouldn’t understand until you were in a bathroom, drunk, calling him bullshit. He winced, rolling into the DMV parking lot, headlights sparkling on the thin layer of frost that spread across the grass this week.

The little conference room echoed with chatter, weekly catch-ups, as the smell of burnt coffee coated the air. Steve accepted an M&M cookie from Mina with warmth tickling under his collar. The woman had crumbs on the corner of her lips, but something about her presence reminded him of Joyce and of Claudia, and of all the surrogate mothers that had taken him in when his own was too busy to nurse his wounds and feed him something not cooked in a microwave. 

He considered not showing up, holing himself in his big, empty house, with nothing but the whirring of the microwave. He’d been that way all week, eyes unfocused on the fireplace while his mind grasped to remember the image of your shape in the water, the feel of your lips against his, the sound of your laughter. Your voice echoed around his skull though, the only clarity his mind offered him over the last week. “We all started going for someone else and ended up showing up for each other.”

So, with Carl and Elmer, and even sweet Mina, on the brain, he wrestled into his puffer jacket and grit his teeth past the chill of winter while he scraped the windshield of his car. If he tried, he could imagine them as his friends, adult versions of the little shits that tormented (and enriched) his life, but he wasn’t sure if that would make things easier or harder, especially after the heartache he felt the week before. He slumped into his seat and split his cookie in half, soft and gooey. He’d just have to wait and see how today’s session went. 

Cheryl clacked in with a bright smile, clipboard on her hip like a well-loved toddler, gazing around the group over the rim of her glasses. She poured herself a cup of coffee as the group calmed, though with the look on her face, Steve wasn’t sure she needed more caffeine. “Hello, everyone!” She greeted in a sing-song.

“What’s got you so chipper today, missy?” Dolores asked, her own eyes sparkling behind bejeweled spectacles. 

Cheryl sucked in her smile and took a sip of her coffee before she settled into her seat across from Steve. His heart ached at the blank space beside her. 

“She’s chipper because of that rock on her finger,” Elmer commented. “Jesus Christ, Cheryl, that thing must weigh a ton.” 

Steve’s eyes went to the engagement ring on her finger, hand holding her cup aloft for all to see. The room erupted in a buzz of excitement and congratulations and questions, and even Steve himself felt the corners of his lips tug into a proud smile. 

She just looked so happy, skin flushing, hair bouncing in agreement as she hid smiles behind waved hands, trying to calm the crowd. “Thank you, thank you. I know, very exciting.” She scolded, but the smile could not be swept from her face. “Shush!”

Showing up for each other. Steve glanced once more to your empty seat and wondered how you’d react to the news. A shiver wracked through him at the thought of your own elation, of the smile playing at pink lips while your eyes flashed to his with mischief. 

“Yes, yes, the rumors are true. Thomas finally proposed. And I refuse to waste any more time on the details, so if you’re really interested, ask me after group.” She flashed a timid wink Mina’s direction before setting her coffee on your empty chair and adjusting her knees in her pencil skirt. She wrapped fingernails to her clipboard, pausing to watch the sparkle of her diamond before she clapped her dainty hands together. “I’m glad to see all of you in good spirits today. I know this time of year can be especially difficult, with the holidays coming up.” 

Steve shuffled in his own seat, ventured a bite of cookie. It was soft and sweet, and he nearly choked when he noticed Mina was watching him. He gave her a thumbs up and a smile, and she seemed delighted at the praise. 

“Since we won’t be here next week, let’s practice gratitude. Our ice breaker will be something we’re thankful for.” 

The concept of an ice breaker always sent a bit of anxiety through him, that stutter of a heartbeat that he’d say the wrong thing, something stupid or embarrassing. He couldn’t decide if your absence made it easier or more difficult. On one hand, he couldn’t say anything to deter you, on the other, he couldn’t tell you he was thankful for your presence in this group, for the smiles of encouragement. He couldn’t tell you he was thankful for the night you’d had on Friday. He couldn’t tell you he’d been thinking about you all week. 

His hands clammed up as the answers formed from around the circle, a wide range of gratitude from time spent with Jeffrey’s daughter while she was still alive to the Colts latest season. His brain wracked for an answer of his own, and his mouth felt a little dry.

“Steve, what are you thankful for?” Cheryl offered an encouraging smile. 

He floundered a bit, licking his lips, staring at your open seat. He swallowed, and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off from a stern voice to his left. 

“May I?” Carl was leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

Steve nodded, thankful for the distraction. Mina also seemed unbothered by the skip, a knowing smile playing across her lips. 

“I’m thankful for this young man, right here.” Carl pointed, long arms and gnarled finger almost reaching Steve’s chest. 

Steve felt himself blinking, felt his mouth bob open again. 

“Because his bravery showing up to this group every week, with all of us old folks, gave me the courage to talk to my grandson about his feelings with all of this.” He twisted his finger in the air to demonstrate the world around them. “He’s a tough kid, my Joel, but I knew he was taking this really hard. He’s only fourteen, and he lost a few friends. He just started high school, made the basketball team, and I could tell he’s nervous. So I chatted with him, and we had a real good talk.” 

Steve could feel the emotion swell in his chest, that familiar bubble of pride that tightened his ribcage. 

The older man’s jaw was tight, hands clamped into fists, as though he was uncertain of Steve’s response, maybe slightly uncomfortable with all of the attention on him. 

“What position does he play?” 

Carl’s eyes lit at that, his mouth twisted into a smirk. “Post.” 

Steve nodded. “Cool. I’m friends with Lucas Sinclair. He’s on the team too. Maybe we could get together and do a pick-up.” 

The old man nodded, released the tension in his shoulders. His chair squeaked as he sat back into it. “I think we’d really like that.” Showing up for each other.

—

Decorative plates clattered on their displays a few feet above Steve’s head. He was elbow deep in sudsy water, and breathless grunting and the whoosh of air had him rutted up against the countertop, soaking the front of his sweater in sink water. He grit his teeth and glanced over his shoulder to see Eddie take a swipe at Dustin, easily dodged, curled hair and red faces everywhere. 

“Will you two quit horsing around?” He snapped, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose and right eyebrow itching only because his hands were coated in bubbles and grease. 

“Yeah, Dustin, quit picking on me. Daddy Steve’s going to ground you,” Eddie grinned, opening the refrigerator to pull a bright red can of Redi Whip from beside a milk carton. He tilted his head backwards, aerosol making a choked sound before Steve watched a dollop of whipped cream spill upwards from between Eddie’s lips.

“Gross, dude,” Steve grumbled, grabbing around for another dish to clean. “This isn’t even your house.” 

“Joyce?” Eddie yelled, mouth full, all of the gumption of a school kid calling for his Mom. Dustin snickered and took the canister from the older boy’s hands. “Is it okay if Dustin and I have some whipped cream?” 

Joyce appeared around the corner with her hands full of serving platters. “Of course, sweetheart.” She offered Steve a knowing smile, blowing dark hair from her eyes before setting the plates near a stack of Tupperware containers ready to be filled. “But when you’re done contaminating my Redi whip, think you guys can head outside and quit horsing around in my kitchen?” 

Dustin coughed on his whipped cream, earning a rough slap on the back before the two boys chuckled their way out of the room to harass Will and El and Max into a game of touch football.

“Sorry about them,” Steve sighed, scrubbing dried gravy and trying not to think about how the sink reminded him of the Upside Down. 

“Boys will be boys,” Joyce chuckled, and not a consonant was mean. He’d seen Joyce mean, hackles up, defending her cubs, defending him. It was terrifying. 

“Joyce,” the name always felt weird on his tongue. He’d been raised to be respectful.

She looked up with that same twinkle in her eye, slopping stuffing into separate containers. 

“I just uh…” The back of his neck itched. He pushed his glasses up his nose with his forearm, splattering soapy water across a lens. He wiped it off to procure a smudge. He sighed. “I just wanted to thank you for suggesting that group therapy thing.” 

“Yeah?” She grinned. 

He shrugged, avoided her gaze by picking cranberry sauce off a plate with his nail. “Yeah, it’s a really nice group of people. I’m actually going to play basketball with one guy and his grandkid.” 

“Oh, Steve, that’s so great!” Joyce cheered, soft-spoken and kind. “I had a feeling you’d get something from it. And what about that girl?” 

His heart stuttered at the mention of you, stomach sinking. It had been two weeks since he heard from you, two weeks since the drive, two weeks since your dip in the lake. You still hadn’t called, and he hadn’t wanted to clog your voicemail. He’d been hung out to dry, clinging to the line in some hopes you didn’t totally hate him. “What about her?” He swallowed.

Joyce shrugged, preoccupied with the mashed potatoes. “She seemed really sweet, and your age. I wondered if you two were friends. She seemed so lonely after losing her husband, and I just really hoped she could find some friends here in Hawkins.”

The plate slid out of Steve’s fingers, crashing against the bottom of the tin sink, and he cursed under his breath, chasing it to pull from the water and check for cracks. It seemed fine. Rinsing it in hot water, he chewed over Joyce’s words. When the plate was safely deposited on the drying rack and the sink stop had been pulled to drain the suds, he turned back to the woman spooning mashed potatoes as though she hadn’t said anything Earth-shattering. 

He said your name to get her attention, asked it, really. “The girl with the denim jacket?” 

Joyce smiled, eyes sparkling with the same mischief he found in your own eyes, and she described you to a T. “Very pretty girl, isn’t she?”

He swallowed, dried his knuckles with a damp hand towel.

—

Carl and Elmer were bickering about the NBA, voices gruff, arms crossed. Steve felt warm, despite the couple of inches of snow Hawkins got in the last few days, coffee in hand, fluorescents flickering a steady beat in the corner. Just over Elmer’s thin shoulder, one of the heavy steel doors popped open, and you slipped inside, shaking snow off your knit cap, and pulling gloves from your fingers, one fingertip at a time. 

Steve’s breath caught in his chest, released only in a wheeze when you met his gaze and he watched every beautiful feature light up, cheeks plump and teeth white. If he wasn’t warm before, he was flooded with it now, collar hot and itchy around his neck. He raked his fingers through his hair, unsure where to put his hands, sneakers squeaked against linoleum as he shifted his stance. 

You waggled your fingers in a greeting and shuffled your shoes against the damp floor mat.

Steve’s mind raced with conflict. On the one hand, you hadn’t called. For three weeks, radio silence on your end. The only comfort he’d gained was from driving past your house late Monday night to find your lights on. You hadn’t answered any of his calls. On the other hand, you were real and alive, and your warm smile drew him like a magnet. He excused himself from the present argument and met you at the snack table.

“Hi,” he managed. Smooth. 

“Hey,” you didn’t look up at him, eyelashes long against your cheeks. You tucked a napkin into one hand and pulled the pen from the sign-up sheet on a clipboard. “Can you do me a favor and please give me your number?” 

Steve felt his entire body heat from embarrassment. Of course you hadn’t called. You didn’t have his fucking number. “I’m such an idiot.” He sputtered, pulling the utensil from your hand to scribble his digits on the soft ply of a napkin. 

“No, I’m an idiot,” you assured, squeezing his bicep with slender fingers. “I’m the one who promised to call without even asking for your number. You probably thought I hated you.” 

Steve smiled, shrugged. “I was overthinking everything I said.” The confession spilled out before he could stop it, and he hoped it sounded a lot more suave, sarcastic, flirtatious. But then he froze, immediately question whether or not you wanted him to flirt. You had said you wanted more friends, and if Joyce was right, and you’d recently lost your husband, maybe Steve was in over his head. “I mean…” He stammered, carding his hand through his hair again. 

But you smiled, eyes still cast downward as you poured coffee from the carafe into a styrofoam cup. He thought back to the time you’d spilled, the time you’d come in entirely too distraught. He wondered if it was somehow related to your Husband’s death. He swallowed. 

“On second thought, maybe it was your fault.” You glanced up then, eyes sparkling. He bristled. “You never told me your parents’ names. Are you related to every Harrington in the phone book?” You took a sip, glancing around the room. Your energy was a bit frenetic, flitting back and forth over the faces of your group, an unease tensing your shoulders.

Whereas he relaxed, endeared that you’d thumbed through the white pages to find him. “John and Linda,” he offered, tipping the rim of his cup to yours to bring your attention back to him.

You took another sip, but held his gaze, holding the coffee in the pockets of your cheeks for a moment, chewing a thought before the corners of your lips turned up into that world-ending smile. “Steven John Harrington?” 

He felt his nose wrinkle in disgust. Though maybe, if he had been named after his dad, the old man might have taken him more seriously. He shook his head. “Francis. After my mom’s dad.”

You ignited at that, that spark he yearned to spill out of you. He wanted to bathe in it. He could feel the rumble of your chuckle in your throat, the tease he’d been used to since childhood, but felt sticky sweet from you, if only he could push you over-the-edge, procure a full-out laugh.

The closing of heavy double doors broke the spell. You looked away first, to Cheryl, and Steve watched the smile and cheer wipe from your features and replace with creased concern. He followed your gaze to the slender woman, hair perfectly coifed and eyes red beneath her spectacles. 

“Can I have everyone sit please?” She croaked, almost a whisper, the softest Steve had ever witnessed. A chill settled at the base of his skull. 

Chatter turned to grumbled concern as everyone made their way to their seats. Steve felt your hand grip his tightly, just for a moment, before you left him to sit at his twelve, your frame curved at attention toward Cheryl. You pulled a leg up, rested your head on your knee, a defense mechanism, he supposed, body-armor. He glanced sideways to offer Mina a reassuring smile, and she returned it, tight-lipped. 

“Hello, everyone. I come bearing grave news.” Cheryl wrung her fingers against the top of her clipboard, diamond sparkling beneath the fluorescents. She glanced upward, making eye contact with each person in the circle. Almost a full group, Steve noted. “I just learned that Jeffrey passed away over Thanksgiving.”

A flutter of gasps circulated, and everyone’s eyes settled on that empty chair, a little cock-eyed, cast in shadow at an awkward post between two banks of lights. Steve’s heart sank. He wracked his brain for every fact he knew about the man with red hair and mousy eyes, who spoke so highly of the daughter he missed so dearly. 

He felt his hand start to tremble, knee bouncing with anxiety. Glancing across the circle, he noticed you’d pulled your other leg up, barricaded, eyes glazed over, chin trembling just beyond your fingertips.

“I just want to reiterate to you all how important this group is, and how much you all mean to me, and to each other,” Cheryl spoke, slow and self-assured, almost stern. “I understand how this might be too much for some of you, and if you wish to go, by all means, do what you think is best for you, but I do encourage you to push through, to stay, for your fellow group members. Some of us have no one to lean on but each other.” 

Steve watched your shoulders slump, and you stared directly at the ground, arms coming to link around your knees. 

—

Steve’s throat burned, raw, and his eyes stung, and his God damn hand wouldn’t stop trembling. He wanted to pulverize something, to build up the callouses in his palms and wind up to swing his bat through something fleshy and disgusting. He said polite goodbyes with gritted teeth and a clenched fists, held in his emotion to give Carl and Elmer manly smiles and nods. He tossed battered styrofoam into a bin and tore out of there to suck in fresh, frigid air.

Ice cold hit his face like a ton of bricks, stinging at his nostrils and catching the air in his lungs, but it felt so refreshing. It was so much better than the muggy, stale air of a conference room filled with so much grief, so much loss, so much pain.

“Steve!” Your voice called, reeling him back to reality, and he turned to see you. You were bleary eyed, red-nosed, pulling your gloves from your pockets. 

He took a calming breath, nodded for you to follow him around the corner and out of earshot. When he got you close enough to feel the warmth of your knit hat, he mumbled. “How are you holding up?” As though it weren’t obvious, as though everyone wasn’t a wreck.

You looked up from your gloves, face half-shadowed in exterior lamplight. Your breath fogged at the bottom of his lenses, and your bottom lip trembled with a swallow. “I just…” You glanced around the parking lot before tucking your hand into his own. Your gloves were scratchy, but warm. “I just don’t want to be alone.” 

He gave a curt nod and tugged you toward his car. When you got in, closed the door, he threw his arm over the back of your seat and got the Hell out of there, away from the sadness, away from the memories.

You didn’t ask, didn’t say a thing, just buckled and sat with your hands in your lap, tears staining your cheeks as the lights from Suburbia rolled by. 

Instinct carried him to the junkyard, a lead foot on the accelerator and this itching under his skin to hit something. You didn’t question it when he pulled in between the bodies and engines. He pulled right up beside Hargrove’s Camaro, blue-paint charred and covered in snow. “Wait here?” It wasn’t a question. He set his glasses on the dash.

He left the car running to keep you warm, and bitter wind nipped at his ears and his cheeks. He rounded to the trunk to pull out his bat. The handle was warm and chipped in places. The nails were rusted and stained with the blood of monsters, the blood of civilians. He slammed the trunk closed and steadied his grip.

His shoulders were hunched, but he rolled them. Hargrove’s car still held a side-mirror, mirror long shattered, remnants of glass frozen over, but the appendage remained attached to the body, and with a guttural growl and a swing, it was gone. 

That’s all it took, one hit and Steve was no longer in the junkyard, but on the battle field. He was surrounded by bats and demo-creatures and Vecna himself, and he was swinging and screaming, metal dragging against metal, throat raw, until his palms tore and he stumbled to his knees. 

Eyes slammed shut, shallow breaths dragging from between his lips, he tried to wane the dizziness, tried to pull himself back to reality, back to a place where he was forgiven for his sins, for unleashing those creatures on his Home, his People. 

“Steve?” 

Everything flooded back with pounding in his ears at the sound of your voice, the soft warmth of your hand to his cheek. Your face was blurred from tears he wasn’t aware he’d shed, and he ducked himself into your lithe touch. “I’m so sorry,” he croaked. 

“Come on,” you tugged at his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you warmed up.”

His teeth were chattering. His shoulders wracked with a shiver. He let you pull him upright, let you set him into the backseat, let you pulled the spare blanket up and over his shoulders. The heater whooshed in his ears, and he heard the slam of the trunk before you were crawling in the other side, sidling up beside him, all warm hands and body tucked into his side. 

“What day is it?” 

Steve blinked at the headrest in front of him, tried to process your words. “Wh-what?” 

“Tell me the day of the week, Steve.” Your voice was so calm, so self-assured, wise beyond your years. 

He swallowed. “Thursday.” 

“Good. And what’s my name?” 

He tried to take a few deep breaths, noticed the pressure of your palm against his sternum, focused on it. 

“Say my name, baby,” you cooed, and when Steve’s eyes slammed open, you were over him, all encompassing, hand to his chest, nose brushing his nose. 

He released your name in a breath, like a prayer, and at once, you were swallowing it, warm lips pressed to his own, cupping his cheek, climbing onto his lap. Steve groaned at the weight of you, perfect, grounding, and gripped both of your hips, worshiped your thighs, dragged you into him until no part of his middle had room for the breeze.

“Say it again,” you rasped, head turned skyward. He murmured it into the heat of your throat, vowels meeting your pulse like pressed-palms, but the sound it pulled from your lips was sinful. 

He thought of your curves, cast in moonlight, and now he felt them, desperately digging beneath denim and jersey until frigid fingers met scorching skin. 

You yelped at the touch, but it pulled that throaty laugh from you and Steve realized nothing could ever be wrong again. 

He spoke your name into the junction of you shoulder, where your clavicle dipped, and back to steal your breath from your plump lips. Kissing you was a balm, slow and sweet and soothing, chamomile and honey, a lullaby. 

Your body was a weapon, the steady roll of your hips had him seeing stars. Nimble fingers worked the knots in his shoulders. Your back arched beneath his hand. You seethed his name, nipped at his lips, spread saliva down his throat with expert bites. 

And then your hands found the hem of his shirt, crawled upward to trace puckered flesh, and he felt himself seize up, all at once slammed back into reality. Leather squeaked beneath him. He removed you to favor the seat behind you, squirmed under you, suffocated. 

“It’s okay,” you placated against his earlobe, removed your hands from his shirt to place on his chest once more. 

“No,” he struggled, throat aching, and he gripped your biceps until you released him, pulling back to look at him, pupils blown, brows knit in confusion. He ran a hand through his hair, winced at the sweat that had gathered on his neck. He shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

“Oh,” you swallowed, slid off his lap, the space between you was stale and hot, windows fogged.

“No, I just mean - fuck,” he gasped for air, cranked the window down an inch to alleviate some of the warmth, pressed his skull to the glass. He took a moment to catch his breath before turning back to face you. 

You were adjusting your shirt, your jacket, staring out the windshield, glazed over.

“Hey,” he trailed his fingers across the bench seat to find your own. Yours were too warm, clammy. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine, really,” the corners of your lips turned up, but you weren’t there, weren’t facing him. “I shouldn’t have assumed…” 

“No, God, no,” Steve jumped to remedy the miscommunication. “No, I want this. I want you. Really. I’m like… it scares me how much I’m into you.” He ducked into your line of vision.

Still, you shied. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “That’s why I want to take this slow.” He hoped you heard the subtext. Not here, not tonight, not after today. “Okay?” 

You looked up at him then, that far-off look in your eye, but you managed a shy smile, tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded. 

---

A/N: End of part one! Like I said, I've been working on this for absolute ages, and I just wanted to get it out, so I'm splitting it into several parts! It's an angsty one, but I hope you've enjoyed part one. Thanks so much for reading xo xo xo -Amanda

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things

[mountttmase]

The Do-Over - Part Three

Note - another request for part three, a little spicy as promised 😏 also definitely didn’t base the gift part on my boyfriends Christmas present to me this year 😉🥹 feedback is always appreciated and I hope you enjoy. Part one & Part two are linked.

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 6.3k

Warnings - fluff and smut

Low-key was not a word in Masons vocabulary.

You had both decided to keep things under wraps for now until you were both settled, giving you a chance to get yourself into a good routine with each other. The only other person who knew you were seeing each other again was Woody as he seemed to be attached to Masons hip more than you were.

Ava would hound you everyday at work, asking how your first date with him went and was furious at you for being so tight lipped. You’d even had a few texts from Dec wanting the down low as he wasn’t getting anything out of Mason but you both held it all in.

You could trust him to be secretive when it came to others asking questions, it was when you were in public that seemed to be hardest for him. You’d been on a few other dates, more dinners and a few crazy golf or bowling nights and as much as you tried to remain inconspicuous, he couldn’t help but have his hands on you at all times. His lips constantly kissing any part of skin he could access and always whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

‘It’s nearly the weekend. Got any plans with money Mase?’ Ava winked at you from across your desk and you laughed loudly at her words. ‘What? I know he’s not got a game for a few days so he’s got the evening free tomorrow. The both of you think you’re so clever but I know somethings going on’ she pouted and you rolled your eyes playfully.

‘Who says I’ve got plans with anyone tomorrow?’

‘So you can keep me company then?’ She asked and your face faltered for a second. ‘I knew it, I’m your best friend, why can’t you just admit it?’

You did feel bad, she had been rooting for you and Mason more than anyone and you would of loved to have a girl to chat about him with, so you gave into her pouty face and came clear.

‘Fine’ you huffed, and she clapped her hands together like an excited seal. ‘We’ve been seeing each other since a little after new years. We just thought it would be best to keep it low key and not put so much pressure on it, you know? Figure things out for ourselves before everyone finds out’

‘I get that’ she smiled at you sympathetically but you could tell she was over the moon for you. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Really good’ you smiled and she mirrored your smile with her own. ‘He’s grown up a lot, tells me a lot more, like when somethings on his mind he doesn’t shut off and he wants to work through it with me which is really nice’

‘What about the sex? You shagged him yet?’

‘Bloody hell Ava’ you choked, as you both got sent into a fit of giggles.

‘What I’m curious?’ She laughed whilst shrugging her shoulders. ‘You never told me what he was like when you two were together. I’ve known him for a long time and I wanna know if his bedroom abilities are up to scratch’

‘Well from what I remember I definitely had no complaints, but we haven’t gone there yet this time’ you told her. ‘We wanna focus on us as people before we rip each other clothes off’ you laughed and she gave you a knowing smile. ‘I have a question though. Why did you and Mason never get together?’

‘Dec’s a very over protective cousin’ she admitted whilst rolling her eyes ‘told Mason he’d never walk again if he ever touched me. Plus as cute as Mason is, he’s not my type’ Ava was a bit mysterious when it came to boys, never openly admitting who she liked and even though you’d seen her with guys on nights out, you’d never known her be in a proper relationship.

‘What’s your type then?’ You asked her and she rested her head on her hand whilst giving you a far away stare.

‘Ruben Loftus-Cheek’ she breathed and you both erupted into giggles before getting the death stare from a few of your colleagues. She stuck her tongue out at you playfully before carrying on with her work just as you heard your phone ping besides you. Masons name popping up on the screen.

Hello beautiful, I was having a think about to tomorrow and I’ve had an idea. Give me a call when you’re done with work xxx

You text him back, letting him know you would but you were curious about his plans. You had both decided to celebrate Masons birthday towards the end of the month as he had such a packed schedule and it was proving difficult to find a day you could both agree on however thanks to a Sunday game, Mason now had a Friday night free. Once you were on your train home, you pressed Masons number to give him call and he picked up on the third ring.

‘Hello trouble’ he answered, a slight teasing note in his tone but it made you smile.

‘Hello, Mason’

‘How was your day?’

‘Long, but not too bad. How about you?’

‘I won a shootout against Kai today, so I’d say pretty good’ he boasted and you could hear the smile in his words. ‘But I didn’t want you to call me so I could tell you how great I am. I want to speak to you about tomorrow’

‘I’m all ears’ you told him and you heard him get comfortable before starting.

‘Well Woody has managed to trick some poor girl into going out with him so my house is free and we won’t be disturbed. I thought you could come over and I can make you your favourite just like I used to’ he insisted, and you were excited by his words. ‘Just thought it might be nicer than some over priced restaurant under the prying eyes of the public like normal. I want it to be special. So what do you think?’

‘Sounds perfect’ you breathed and you heard him let out a relived sigh on the other end. ‘But it’s supposed to be your birthday Mase, not about me.’

‘How about we think of it like a joint birthday slash one month anniversary’ he laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully. Of course he was trying to make this about you. You carried on chatting until you made it home and he told you he had to go so he could sort some things out but he’d text you later like normal.

The next day was Friday, and you and Ava sat sharing a box of chocolates she had left over from Christmas whilst gossiping about Mason some more. She promised she’d not tell a soul and it felt good to have someone to talk to about him with again. As soon as the clock struck five, you were out the door and ready to race for an earlier train, but the sight outside your office made you stop in your tracks.

Masons car was parked over the road, and you could see him sat looking out. He waved as soon as he saw you and you run across the street to jump into the passenger side door what he’d opened.

‘Firstly, it’s dark out Mason. You don’t need to be wearing sunglasses, you look like a right melon’

‘Excuse me’ he scoffed, sliding them up his nose so they rested on his head. ‘I’m trying to be inconspicuous’

‘Well you make yourself stand out even more’ you laughed as you took them from his head and placed them over your eyes. ‘And secondly, what are you doing here?’

‘Well firstly’ he mocked, reaching behind your seat to produce a bunch of red roses and your heart began to race as the gesture. ‘Happy Friday, beautiful’ he smiled as he sat them in your lap. You lent over your seat and met him in the middle so you could kiss him, holding him by the jaw and stroking his cheek as you hummed into the kiss.

‘Happy Friday, Mase. Thank you, you shouldn’t have’ you told him shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up as he looked at you adoringly.

‘Thought I’d hold off sending them to your office this time, I know how embarrassed you get’ he teased but you laughed along with him as he gave you one final kiss. ‘And secondly, can a man not pick his girl up from work?’ He teased, turning in his seat and starting the ignition. ‘Thought I’d save you from public transport and take you straight to mine’

‘Thank you, Mase. I appreciate it I really do but I wanted to nip home first so I could sort myself out’

‘I can take you home first’ he smiled ‘I’ll just wait in the car and then we can go to mine’ he told you before driving off. Once at yours you quickly changed into a cute strappy black dress that was still comfortable enough for you to sit around in and touched up some of your makeup before grabbing the gift you’d got him and running back down to the car.

Once at his he made you wait by the door, claiming he wanted to check something before racing back to you, an excited smile playing on his face and he grabbed you by the waist.

‘You look gorgeous by the way’ he told you, kissing you softly as he slowly turned to stand behind you, his hands covering your eyes as he gently encouraged you to walk forwards. ‘Just trust me, yeah?’ He laughed as you yelped, grabbing onto his arms as he guided you through his house until you reached where you knew his dining room table was. He softly counted to three before removing his hands and once your eyes had adjusted you let out a soft gasp at the scene in front of you.

The table was set perfectly, candles lit in the middle of the table, silver and blue balloons grazing the ceiling with tea lights scattered about to create a more cozy atmosphere. You’d never seen anything more romantic and you felt you eyes sting as you took in the scene in-front of you.

‘Is it okay?’ He asked, almost timidly, and you pulled back you crash your lips into his. When you eventually pulled away, you both stood their smiling at each other out of breath. ‘I’ll take that as a yes’

‘It’s beautiful, Mason. Thank you I love it. But we’re supposed to be celebrating you and I feel like you’ve done all the hard work.’

‘Well, like I said, it’s a joint celebration’ he winked before leaning down to kiss you again. ‘Foods almost done so why don’t you take a seat and I’ll sort everything out’ he told you whilst pulling out your chair so you could sit.

He returned from the kitchen to top up your glass before bringing in your food in. Your hand sat in his throughout as you chatted over dinner and you sat there feeling like you were in a fairytale, thanking whatever god would listen for bringing Mason back into your life.

After dessert he shooed you off to the sofa whilst he cleared the plates away. You took this time to grab his gift and as he came over to join you, you passed it over to him with a smile.

‘What’s this’ he smiled, taking the wrapped box from your hands and setting it on his lap.

‘Just a little something’ you breathed, before placing your hand over his as he went to unwrap it, halting his movements. ‘Before you look, you’re really hard to buy for’ you told him and you both let out a little laugh. ‘I mean what do you buy the man who has everything? So it’s just a few little silly things and-‘

He cut you off with a kiss and you could feel his smile on your lips before he pulled away. ‘Whatever it is, I’ll love it cause it’s from you’ he told you before you removed your hand so he could tear the paper off.

Inside were all of Masons favourite sweets with cute little handwritten notes you attached with a pin about each one. You’re as cute as a button pinned to a bag of chocolate buttons, I chews you on a packet of chewits and life without you was unBEARable attached to a huge bag of gummy bears among some other random bits and bobs. He laughed as he read through all of them before his eyes met yours and the look he was giving you made you blush.

‘I know it’s silly, but I remember you used to like to sneak snacks in your bag for away games so I thought I’d help you stock up’ you laughed and he lent over to kiss your forehead.

‘These are coming with me tomorrow’ he winked before pulling you into his lap. ‘Thank you baby’ he whispered against you lips before kissing you deeply, running his hands over your thighs as you clung to his shoulders. He pulled away and you both sat there with flushed cheeks whilst smiling before he gently moved you off him to grab a small box off the coffee table that you hadn’t seen. ‘Now it’s your turn’

‘My turn? What you on about? What’s this?’ You asked as he passed the the small box.

‘I told you, one month anniversary’ he winked and you shook your head whilst trying to give the gift back to him.

‘No Mason, I can’t accept this’

‘Please baby’ he pouted, pushing it back ‘I picked it out myself and I want you to have it’ he insisted and after a silent stare off for a few moments, you undid the wrapping. As soon as you noticed the shade of blue from the gift box, you dropped it into your lap and covered your face. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ He laughed but you couldn’t look at him as you responded.

‘I can’t Mase, it’s too much’

‘You haven’t even opened it yet’

‘But I can tell where it’s from’ you countered before looking up into his hopeful face. ‘Really, Mase? Tiffany’s? I don’t feel like I deserve it’ you laughed, so he grabbed your hand with a sympathetic smile.

‘You deserve this and so much more’ he whispered, kissing you pout gently. ‘Just let me give you this, please’ he begged, and you cook one final breath before opening up the box to revel a small arrow pendent necklace. Not one for flashy jewellery, you fell in love with it instantly, a small gasp came flying from your lips as you inspected it. ‘Do you like it?’ Mason whispered, snapping you out of your trance so you could look at him.

‘I really do, could you put it on me?’ You asked and he smiled whilst taking the box from your hand removing it whilst you turned away from him so he could fix it around your neck.

‘There’s a reason why I chose this one. It’s not just random’ he told you, his lips by your ear as you felt him fiddle with the clasp.

‘What’s the reason?’

‘Well, there’s two reasons actually. The first one was to tie into my cherub tattoo’ he told you, leaning you back so you were pressed against his chest, looking up at him as you were hanging on his every word. ‘Being struck by Cupid’s arrow means you fallen in love. Just like us’ he winked and you chuckled as he held you a little bit tighter. ‘They also apparently symbolise overcoming set backs and moving forward. Like you have to pull an arrow back, and the further you do, the more it travels forward. I like to think that describes us a bit? Like we’ve had to go through a bit of a shit time, but now we get to move forward together and I’m so excited about what the future holds for us’

‘Fuck’ you whispered and he laughed lightly at you whilst furrowing his eyebrows. ‘I think I’ve just fallen in love with you all over again’ you told him and he bent down to kiss you gently. ‘No seriously. That was sexy as hell’ you laughed and you felt his chest rumble as he laughed behind you.

‘Oh yeah?’ He teased, ticking your sides until you turned in his grasp, your eyes flicking over the flushed face of the boy you loved more than anything. You felt your face drop as you thought about leaving soon, not wanting to be away from him tonight, and he picked up on your soured face instantly. ‘What’s the frown about, pretty girl?’ he asked, cupping your cheek so you’d look at him.

‘I know we’ve still got a few hours, but I don’t wanna go’ you pouted. Curling your arms around his shoulders and hiding your face in his neck. He hugged you back tightly, slightly swaying you as you felt him laugh under his breath.

‘So don’t go’ he reasoned and you pulled back to look at him. ‘I don’t want you to go. I never do. Ive got stuff here for you, you can sleep in my shirt like you used to and I’ll drop you home on the way to Chels tomorrow’ he shrugged, like he had it all planned already.

‘You sure’ you whispered and he pulled you in for a long heavy kiss that told you all you needed to know.

‘Come on, why don’t we get sorted for bed and watch tv or something. I know you’re dying to get out of this dress’ he teased, pulling you up and walking you towards the stairs. After a quick shower, you met Mason in his room wrapped in a towel where he handed you a fresh T-shirt from his drawer. ‘I’ve actually got some of your stuff in there I think’ he told you, pointing to the drawer where you used to keep a few of your things. You had a peek inside to find some clean underwear and socks as well as a few pairs of leggings and you smiled that he’d kept them in there for so long. ‘I won’t be long’ he smiled before disappearing into his en-suite.

You quickly changed into his shirt before looking through the underwear in his drawer to find a nice pair, settling on a meshy black pair that you thought you’d lost. You weren’t sure if anything was about to happen with him but you wanted to look good just in case it did. You were just packing back the last few things when you heard his door open, turning round to find him stood in just his boxers and you bit your lip at the sight. He quickly dimmed the lights before pulling you into bed, helping you to sit on his lap and straddle his thighs.

His hands were stroking up and down your legs as his dark eyes flickered over every inch of you. You felt hot under his stare, and when he lent forward to press his lips to yours, you couldn’t help but hum into his mouth.

‘What happened to watching tv, Mase?’ You laughed as you pulled away and he squeezed your waist gently.

‘You expect me to focus on some boring show when I’ve got you in my bed with my shirt on? Nuh uh, I can think of other things I’d rather be doing’

‘Oh yeah? Like what?’

‘You’ he whispered in your ear, and you shivered at the thought. It had been so long since he’d touched you, since anyone had touched you in fact and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. Your thoughts turned to the last time Mason had been touched, wondering if he’d slept with anyone in your time apart and the thought made you feel sick. He was always being linked to girls and you tried to take as little notice as you could but now you felt like you couldn’t let this carry on unless you knew what happened. You realised you had no right to be upset, he was single and you figured there was no way he could of gone a whole year without seeing anyone, but you still felt that sinking feeling in your tummy.

He felt you stiffen up, turning your chin so you’d look him in the eye, and the look of panic and sadness confused him. ‘Hey’ he whispered softly, stroking your cheek gently to try and calm you. ‘If you don’t wanna do anything it’s fine, like if it’s too soon I get it’ he reassured you, but you shook your head, knowing that wasn’t the issue.

‘It’s not that’ you whispered and he pulled you even closer to him.

‘What is it then, baby? Talk to me’ he asked, and his tone melted your insides.

‘I’m gonna sound so stupid, but I was just thinking and I wondered if… like the year we were apart? Did you um- did you…’

‘Did I sleep with anyone?’ He asked, finishing your sentence for you. You were too frazzled to say anything so you just nodded, looking at him with wide eyes as you waited for his answer. He gave you a small embarrassed smile and you were ready for him to tell you you had when he shook his head to say no.

‘What?’ You questioned, furrowing your brows as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. ‘You’re telling me you haven’t had sex since the last time we did?’

‘I’m not gonna sit here and tell you I didn’t have the chance to, I’ve been on a few dates here and there and yeah I kissed a few of them but it never went any further than that’ he told you and you appreciated his honesty. ‘Truth is I knew it wouldn’t be the same, and I lost interest’ he shrugged and you let you a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. ‘Don’t worry, before you I wasn’t exactly reeling them in. I know how to get by’ he winked, waving his hands at his sides to let you know he knew how to look after himself. You laughed, blushing as you covered your face and fell into his chest. His arms came around you, holding you to him as he kissed your head, relief flooding your veins at his admission. ‘What about you huh? Got anything you need to tell me?’

‘I went on one date’ you admitted, turning your face so was free from his neck and you could talk as he rested his cheek on the top of your head. ‘It was an absolute disaster and I had to get Ava to call me and pretend to of fallen down the stairs so I could leave’ you told him and you felt his chest shake underneath you as he laughed.

‘So that’s it?’

‘That was it’ you affirmed and he looked at you confused. ‘Don’t worry, I know how to get by too’ you winked as you sat up to look at him and his face was a picture as if he couldn’t believe what you’d just said, but when he bit his lip, you knew what mood he was in.

‘Is that so’ he murmured, flipping you over so you were now on your back and he was leaning over you. ‘Why don’t you show me’

‘What?’ You blushed, wondering if he was actually asking you what you thought he was.

‘I want you to show me, what you did to yourself when I wasn’t around’ he whispered, rising to his knees so he could get a better look at you. Palming over his boxers and you could see he was getting hard at the thought of you touching yourself. ‘Go on baby, put on a show for me. Don’t worry, I’ll show you too’

You were frozen in place, this not being something the two of you had ever done before, in fact something you’d never done with anyone so you were unsure how to proceed, but the lust in his eyes made your tummy erupt with butterflies, so you slowly ran your hands down you body as he got comfortable in between your legs. Lying on his stomach with his head by your knees so he had a good view of you.

You quickly sat up to discard the T-shirt and laid back down, hearing him growl lowly at the brief sight of your chest. You could feel him pressing sporadic kisses on the inside of your leg, and before you could talk yourself out of it, your hands were gliding back down and dipping into your underwear.

You were already wet from his stare and soon enough you felt his hands hook your underwear down your legs and pull them off, now giving him a full view of what you were doing to yourself. You could feel your face flushing at the intimacy of it all, and you knew your hands were shaking but you pushed through, at first pretending he want even there and running your fingertips all over your body again until you were covered in goosebumps and you could feel your nipples harden.

You slowly ran your fingers through your folds, coating them before you circled over your clit. You could hear Mason take in a breath before kissing your legs again, slowly getting higher as you pleasured yourself in front of him.

‘Mason’ you breathed as the pleasure intensified and you felt him shuffle up your body a bit more until hips lips were on your waist.

‘That’s it, that’s my girl’ he mumbled into your skin and you let out a whimper as his lips attached to you nipple, sucking gently before teasing off with his teeth, sending a shiver down you spine. He sat up on his knees in between your legs before he pushed his boxers down, letting himself spring free and your mouth watered at the sight of him.

He took himself into his hand, slowly pumping himself up and down whilst his gaze fluttered all over you as if he didn’t know where to look. Soon after, he grabbed your wrist, and bought your fingers to his mouth, sucking your wetness from you as his eyes rolled back at the taste.

‘Fuck, just as good as I remember’ he breathed, getting his face settled between your thighs again as he looked up at you. ‘I’m a little out of practice but I need to taste you’ he told you, placing your hand in his hair before diving into you tongue first.

You gasped at the contact, finally feeling his mouth on you again after so long. He told you he was out of practice but he was always good with his tongue and you were pleasantly surprised to find that was still the case. You tugged his hair slightly in a way he used to love and he moaned into you.

You had gotten yourself most of the way there already, so when slipped his fingers inside you, it didn’t take long for you cum around them. Once he knew you were through it, he went back to kissing all over your thighs, traveling up your body to kiss your chest and the feel of his lips still all over you sent your head into a spin, only the the thought of him pounding into you on your mind, but he seemed far too interested in kissing every inch of your skin that he’d missed.

‘Mase, please fuck me’ you whimpered and you heard him whine into your neck at your words, lifting his head with a mischievous smile so he could bump his nose with yours. You could feel him hard against your leg so you knew he was ready and waiting for you but you also knew he liked to drag out your pleasure.

‘Say that again for me baby’ he uttered, kissing your cheeks as you bucked up into him.

‘Fuck me Mase, please. I need to feel you’ you pleaded, ruining your hands down his body until you were met with his length. You took him in your hand, pumping him a few times and enjoying the way his face changed at the feeling. His eyes closing and his lips parting ever so slightly so he could let out a shaky breath. You managed to line him up with your entrance, but he needed no extra help from there. Slamming into you until you arched your back, moaning directly into his ear as he thrusted into you with all he had.

‘So needy for me’ he teased, his lips lost in your neck before he brought his head up to look at you again. Both breathing into each others mouths as he gave you all he could. He was close already and you could tell, but you knew he wasn’t ready to cum yet so he sat up before spitting down onto you and circling your clit whilst he was still buried inside you. ‘That good’ he questioned, noticing how your eyes were rolling to the back of your head with each brush of his fingers.

‘You have no idea’ you managed to croak out, the feeling becoming overwhelming and you were certain you’d never felt this good. He saw how close you were, now knowing it was safe for him to get back into it so he started moving his hips again whilst still keeping his fingers working. His other hand traveled up to your throat, squeezing gently as he remembered you used to love it and clearly still did from the way you tightened around him even more.

You were trying to keep your moans at bay, not wanting to sound too desperate, but the harder he went, the harder it became for you to keep a lid on things.

‘I know for a fact you can be louder than that, come on baby, let me hear you. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel’ he pleaded, his low raspy voice turning you on even more causing you to cry out in pleasure. He bit his lip at the sound before attaching his lips to yours, pushing you both over the finish line and you clung to his neck as you both attempted to get your breathing back on track.

He slumped to the side of you, not wanting to crush you but too tired to move anywhere further. You ran your fingers through his hair and felt his body melting into yours which caused you to chuckle beneath him.

‘Don’t laugh at me’ he scolded you gently before lifting off you slightly so he could look at you. The bridge of his nose was flushed and his hair was a mess but he was radiating happiness and you couldn’t help but smile at him. ‘You okay?’ He whispered and you nodded whilst kissing his forehead.

‘Never better’ you breathed and he nestled back into your neck.

‘Well rest up, I’m gonna need a round two soon’ he told you, standing up and helping you you to sit so you could go to the bathroom. You let out a little laugh and his eyes snapped to yours, a cheeky smile on his face as he winked. ‘You think I’m joking, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do’ he teased, slapping your bum playfully as he followed you into the bathroom to join you in the shower.

——————————

You’d barely slept, both your hands on each other all the time and the simplest of contact led to a quick fumble between the sheets. You were exhausted and had no idea how Mason was going to manage to get through the day. At least he would have a night away from you tonight to catch up on sleep before his game tomorrow.

You we’re currently in the kitchen, dressed only in your underwear and Masons shirt whilst you made the pair of you a coffee. He was currently behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he kissed your neck gently and you lent into his chest to update him on some office gossip you hadn’t got round to telling him yesterday. You both heard the front door open, freezing as you were unsure as to who it could be, but the sound of Masons dad shouting his name made you relax before panicking again.

‘Shit, I forgot they were all coming today’ he groaned and you were filled with anxiety as you took the pair of you in, him in just his boxers and you not leaving much to the imagination. ‘Fuck fuck fuck’ he muttered before darting from the room to greet them, leaving you stood in the kitchen, frozen in fear.

‘Ah there he is. Nice to see you got dressed this morning’ you heard his mother tease, their voices getting closer and the entered the living room. ‘What the hell is going on in here’ she laughed and you realised the table was still set from last night as half burnt candles littered the floor and balloons were floating around everywhere. ‘You know what, I don’t wanna know. I just need to put this in your fridge’

‘I can do that’ you heard him offer, a tinge of desperation in his voice, but it was no use. Before you knew it, she was in the kitchen, your eyes meeting and you’d never seen her look so shocked. She visibly jumped before she realised it was you, a massive smile breaking out on her face before she dashed to your side, bringing you in to a bone crushing hug.

‘I knew it’ she shouted spinning you both in a circle and she laughed. ‘They all thought I was mad but I was right’ she howled, as Mason stood laughing with his hands on his hips in the doorway. Debbie pulled back, holding you in front of by your arms as her eyes filled with tears. Your eyes glazed over too at the sight of her, you knew how close Mason was with his family and they had welcomed you with open arms when you first got together. To see her so happy at the sight of you warmed your insides.

‘What do you mean you were right?’ Jaz questioned as she followed in behind, but as soon as she saw you she was running over to join the hug. ‘Oh it’s so good to see you, but I owe mum a tenner now so it’s kind of not’ she laughed as Mason entered the room, holding summer on his hip, his dad, brother and Sam flooding in behind with shocked faces.

‘Why do you owe mum a tenner?’ He questioned as you watched the little girl wriggle around in his arms as if she was fighting him off to get to you.

‘Call it mother’s intuition’ she laughed and Mason rolled his eyes and he popped Summer on the floor so she could run over to you ‘let’s face it Mason, you haven’t exactly been a ray of sunshine this last year. But these last few weeks you were back to being my Mase again’ she explained as you lifted Summer up onto your hip. ‘I knew there was something up and I figured it had to be you’ she told you, squeezing you a little tighter. ‘He gets this special look when you’re around’

‘Who is it Summer’ Jaz asked her excitedly as she began threading her tiny fingers in your hair.

‘Auntie y/n’ she clapped and you tickled her sides gently. ‘Trousers gone?’ She questioned and your face flushed as you remembered you were stood there in front of his family in pretty much next to nothing.

‘Uh yeah, I must of lost them’ you laughed and you could see Mason trying to hold in a laugh from across the room.

‘Summer?’ You heard Lewis call as you set her down. ‘Why don’t we go get your stuff out the car while y/n tries to find them. Mason maybe you can help, I have a feeling yours might be lost in the same place’ he teased before grabbing Summers hand and walking her out the room.

Once back up in Mason room, you flopped onto his bed face first and groaned as he stood laughing at you. ‘Don’t Mase, I’m so embarrassed’

‘But look how happy they were to see you’ he laughed as he sat down on the bed next to you, rubbing over your thigh to try and comfort you. ‘Sorry baby, it’s my fault. I was so focused on you being here i forgot I’d made plans with them. They’re gonna stay here tonight and come to my game tomorrow’ he explained and you rolled over to look up at his apologetic face. ‘You do realise my mum will probably invite you to go with them now’

‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, I haven’t been to a game in a while’ you told him, sitting up as he kissed your cheek. ‘Can I borrow a shirt?’

He laughed, standing up to grab one of this season’s shirts with his name printed on the back and you smiled as he handed it to you. ‘Call it a late Christmas present’ he winked as he cupped your jaw to kiss you. ‘I guess since now my family know, and you’ll be wearing my shirt at the game, maybe now we can tell some more people? Like be official?’

‘Are you asking me to be your girlfriend again, Mason Mount?’ You teased, your eyebrows raised and your tongue in your cheek as he looked into your eyes lovingly.

‘I’m asking you to be my girlfriend again y/n y/l/n. If you’ll have me that is’

‘I don’t see why not’ you whispered as you kissed him. A year of hurt and upset now behind you as you were officially back with your person.

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #mason mount blurb #mason mount smut #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x reader #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

[phxntomsdusk]

Valentine’s day with my bursonas

note; these are just a bunch of bursonas i technically made!! hope you all enjoy <3

warnings: mentions of death (klepto!wilbur), goth!wilma with a fem!reader, other than that fluff fluff fluff !!

tags: @ax-y10 , @joviepog , @pheliiaa , @idontreallyexistyet , @rqvii , @vibestillaxxx , @ivvees-blog , @average-vibe , @lillylvjy , @haunted-headset , @toastyliltoasts41 (ask to be added!)

Klepto!Wilbur:

this man doesn’t even know what the holiday is. he’s been dealing with death for so long, the poor guy never realized you celebrated love!

the first time he realized it was a thing was when he found you upset about it, crying saying you were never gonna receive flowers or candy again, because well, you had died—!

he got to work immediately. he bought you roses, holding back the urge to make them black of course. got you your favorite candy after questioning you, and set up a small picnic spot in the woods.

sure, it was a bit scary, but that’s all he really knows

he even got a raven to befriend you and follow you around everywhere, claiming it was protection

“wilbur.. there’s a crow on my head.” you awkwardly pointed up towards the black bird, furrowing your brows at him. “my love, that’s a raven. and it’s for protection! you can never be too careful in the afterlife.” he smile lightly, before planting a kiss on your cheek.

now, if you had gotten him things? he would lose it

you’d never seen him cry, but this definitely would make him bawl..

just knowing that someone truly loves him for who he is, even with what he does for a living, he can’t help it!

at the end of the day he’ll be happy whether it’s him getting you things, or you getting him things. as long as he gets to spend the day sharing his love for you, he’ll be more than happy

Softball!Wilma:

this damn girl is going ALL out for you

she’ll buy cliche and cringy softball themed valentine’s day gifts, mostly giving you those during the week leading up to valentine’s day

but on THE day?? be prepared ..

you’re getting flowers, candy, teddy bears, baskets, gift cards, everything you can imagine!!

if she’s taking you on a date, she’ll wait to give you everything, taking you back to her house afterwards and telling you to close your eyes before entering her room..

“are we there yet?” you groaned as you nearly stumbled over the stairs again, a hand stretched out as you frantically tried to find a door or wall. “yes, yes.. open your eyes, love.”

you did as you were told, seeing her bed decked out in heart shaped things, red and pink, balloons, stuffed animals, candy and such. your jaw dropped, slowly turning to look at her.

“you’re joking..” you spoke quietly, watching her chuckle and shake her head, before wrapping her arms around you and kissed you softly. “i’m not. i love you, and you deserve it.”

now, if you got her stuff? she’s not expecting it!

she’s only ever gotten those yearly stuffed animals from her mom, that always end up tucked away in a bin under her bed or in her closet..

but if you got her like a basket with gift cards, some stuff she can use during games like eyeblack or maybe heart pattern bat grip, she’s losing it!

you’re being tackled with a hug, attacked with kisses and thank yous, she won’t shut up about how much she loved and appreciates you

and for a date? you guys are going to apple bee’s, there’s no denying it. she’s a softball girl, apple bee’s is their holy grail

Baseball!Wilbur:

so if we go based on the series accurate lore- he’s the one buying things in hopes you finally go out with him

it’ll start at a practice, he’ll bring you a small bag with a note, candy, bracelet or necklace, and a small teddy bear <3

the note will be all romantic, with a heart drawn at the end

dear y/n,

you know i’ve been head over heels for you for.. months now. you’ve been on my mind 24/7 ever since i first set eyes on you. i know you don’t like me and don’t show signs of it, but i still wanted to treat you today :)

love, wilbur <3

of course he watched you as you read the letter, and seeing you smile has his heart racing

he approached you after the practice, blurting out how pretty you are, asking if you wanted to go out with him, to which you had to shut him up with a kiss <3

safe to say he had a valentine !!

Goth!Wilma:

okay, she’s goth, she doesn’t love the color pink and all the bright hearts everywhere

but for her girlfriend? she’ll spend her money on some colors for once <3

it’ll start with something small like a brown stuffed bear holding a bright pink heart, and when she saw your face light up she knew she had to do it again

she started bringing you more heart shaped and pink gifts, little notes about how much she loved you, and even gave in to wearing some colors when she took you on a date !!

“do i have to wear the pink shirt?” she sighed as she stared at it in your bedroom mirror, pulling the ends down a bit. “for me? we’re matching, it’s cute!” you smiled widely, walking close and wrapped your arms around her, placing a few kisses on her cheek. “fine.. just this once. only ‘cause i love you, doll.”

she did feel a little embarrassed out in public wearing the shirt, but with your bubbly smile she decided to forget about all the stares

she’d take you to either an ice cream place or a cafe, spoiling you with whatever you wanted, as long as you paid her back in kisses <3

and that night would be spent cuddling the stuffed animals she got you, with her wrapped around you like a koala

#phxntomsdusk #phxntoms fics #klepto!wilbur #softball!wilma #goth!wilma #baseball!wilbur #wilbur soot hcs #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilma soot fluff #wilma soot hcs #wilma soot headcanons #wilma soot #wilma soot x reader #wilma soot x you #wilma soot x y/n

[readbyred]

HOO girls with a S/O who is Nico’s sibling? possibly a similar personality? except that they like to pass the time doing lots of researching (like what new skeletons can they make? what were historical figures like? all that stuff, but it stills drains them and they dont really realize it cause they’re too focused) and stealing kisses from the girls. you dont have to do this request if you dont want to! have a great day :]

Sorry for the late reply. Tbh this was the request I was the most excited to get to! An HOO request? In this economy?? Unreal /pos that being said I had nearly the whole work deleted (I fell asleep writing and my phone didn’t save, so that’s on me) and this sat in my drafts as I weeped

Though Reyna admires how eager you are to advance and improve when it comes to your art of necromancy, she still (on more than one occasion) gave you a stern talk, after you had completely exhausted yourself. You and she work well, Reyna likes having someone focused and driven to back her up and to talk to. However, she does like it when your more nerdy side comes out, there’s always a smile on her lips when you ramble. Anytime you still a kiss it comes as a surprise (since your demeanour can come off as distanced and gloomy, not overly affectionate) and flusters her greatly. Please, don’t do it around her camp because she will literally combust, she gets so red anytime it happens too

Annabeth completely understands getting too focused on your research to do anything else, but she doesn’t let that stop her from reprimanding you every time that happens. A few times already, as you finally stood up from your papers and promptly fell down from your legs falling asleep and overall dizziness, she scooped you up and sat you on bed. She acts like it was not a big deal, but it’s so attractive every time. Even if she lectures you right after. However, she’s still willing to help you expand your abilities, or just learn history with you. This leads to many study dates that you finish with discussing your favourite new facts, that you just learned. When you try to steal a kiss from her she tries to act like she’s not flustered, sometimes goes like ‘really?😒🙄’ but it’s hard to hide the small smile forming on her lips. If she’s been missing you for some time, expect her to pull you back in, for a longer kiss right after

The one it would take you the shortest to charm would be Piper. She likes all things alt and more on the edgier side plus she would find it absolutely adorable when you showed her your nerdy side. She has no idea when your on about sometimes, but still tries to contribute to your research by giving you books you might like and taking you on history-related dates (Annabeth gave her a list of cool battlegrounds and niche museums to visit with you). Loves to watch you experiment with your powers, she thinks it’s both weirdly charming how happy you get and also badass. If anyone would even try to give you a hard time because of who your father is, she would find them. You’re a totally iconic duo all around the camp. Since you had to be born in a different era to even exist, she quickly catches you up on pop culture and such. If you try to steal a kiss from her, she’ll get a bit flustered, but she’s also like, “game on” and it turns into a competition, which one of you can catch off guard the other one faster

Though she may not completely understand your fascination with death (she supposes that it’s genetic, given your heritage) Calypso likes to listen to you talk about your discoveries. She’s far more interested and engaged when it comes to modern facts, but she’s willing to elaborate on things that happened in the past. She retells you tales from her visitors in exchange for helping her catch up with the times. If you had drained yourself out she’ll help you get back to health, it’s like a second nature. Brings you snacks and water too. Though she usually comments on how reckless you are with your health. If you try to steal a kiss from her she literally freezes for a second. Congratulations, you broke her. Even if she tries to play it off afterwards, she’s not fooling anyone

There’s nothing Rachel loves more than painting with you talking in the background. Sometimes she even makes works based on your stories and discoveries. She completely understands how it is to get too focused on something you like to do anything else. Still, she checks up on you, undeterred by your gloomy demeanour, to see if you’re alright every time you lock yourself up with a book or two. She has totally asked you if she could decorate the skeletons, I take no criticism. When you steal a kiss, you always leave her with a bashful expression

#heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #hoo x reader #HoO #annabeth chase #annabeth chase x reader #piper mclean #piper mclean x reader #reyna arellano #reyna hoo #reyna x reader #rachel elizabeth dare #rachel dare #Rachel Elizabeth Dare x reader #Rachel dare x reader #pjo x reader #calypso #calypso x reader #x reader #pjo Annabeth x reader

[miyaur]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. ft. diluc

— what is he like when you both finally become a thing? and how does it happen? what happens after you both get married, lets see! ♡

⟢ Sypnosis﹒ basic sfw/nsfw hcs on genshin men once you date them!!

⤷ ﹒ notes ♩ WAAA i just fixed my blog n fixed school, and i wanna change to kokomi/blue pink & green theme bro, anywaysss.... im back from my hiatus YIPPEE!!!!

⟢ Warnings﹒ no spoilers that is important to the in-game storyline, mentions of death (diluc fatherlessness), THESE HAVE NSFW HEADCANNONS AT THE END.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐑, what was he like when he first met you?

・whether you'd be the Traveler's friend from another nation, or even outside this world, or if you were just one of Kaeya's new drinking buddies, nevertheless you caught his eye in particular.

・you weren't really obnoxious, unlike someone else who drinks at the tavern often, green fading to blue hair, short, and has an anemo vision.. well you could control your alcohol consumption pretty well, you could drink a lot and still not be that drunk at all, plus, he'd never admit it before, but you were stunning. not like the other drunkards he met at his tavern.

・specifically taking shifts only whenever you arrived, but that's just a coincidence he says. you usually would just strike up conversations once Kaeya had gone, or that he was too drunk to talk (lol), it was just you trying to get to know him, to your surprise though, he would reply, even if it was a dry, cold response, he also tried to put a bit of effort into talking to you. when a particular pointed it out he would get a free bottle of dandelion wine, and a treat to able to hear you laugh a bit.

・he can be a bit unwelcoming at times, but whenever you spoke to him, that changed. slowly warming up to you, you both had pleasing conversations, as chaos of drunkards in the background rose, yet you both paid no mind, just you and him, no one else.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐑, how would he act once he realized he liked you, romantically?

・probably would be in major denial, attachment issues too. he's scared you leave him like everyone else, he's scared that he'll hurt you without meaning too. tries to push the feelings away, plus, you probably only like him as a friend, right? he would slightly, very slightly, gaslight himself into thinking you only like him as a good friend, or not a friend at all

・next stage; anger, he is probably a bit upset with himself that he fell for you, but who could blame him, you treated him like an equal, your bright smile could immediately make his day, your voice could soothe his mind, your body was like candy to his eyes, everything about you he loved, he was frustrated, why did he love you so much? whenever you arrived into the tavern at night, his face would light, and a small smile would cover his face, no one has done for him, ever.

・bargaining; like i said he would maybe gaslight himself into thinking you don't like him like that, and maybe tried to ignore you too. that's hard, especially since the whole my shift is when you arrive thing is there now.. well he just tries to not make an effort in his conversations with you anymore, but you do, and that gives him a real hard time. he gave up eventually.

・depression; he's scared that he's lowkey accepting that he likes you, has actually now taken into account if you liked him back. when he finally opens his heart to someone other than himself. after his father's death, he wasn't the same person. Kaeya noticed that too, you could make him feel better within seconds of being in his presence, it felt like home, something he never felt before. made him take a few days off of shifts at the tavern, burying himself in work, paperwork that had been recently given so not much work was had to be done, trying to distract himself from you was hard. he gave up a bit later, he decided to escort you home.

・acceptance; probably a year into meeting you, he'd accept that he liked you, wow, that took a while, but bro has issues, what do you expect.. anyways, he does acknowledge his love for you very clearly. accepted, accepts, whatever, he is now aware he loves you, but even during the 1st year you both met, he's taken note of your reactions to his words, to what he does, and did. he makes sure that when he does end up confessing, that he doesn't get rejected and ruins your friendship. even taking so long to observing you a bit more for 3 months, just to see if you'd accept his offer to go out with him, he didn't really have to wait that long, you'd also fallen in love at first sight. finally after so long, he takes you both on your first date!

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐑, where would he take you both on your first date?

・picnic dates on top. the classic clichè restaurant date is a close second, and coffee dates at home or at a small cat cafe is a good tie. picnic dates with him would probably be near the dawn winery, maybe even picking out good grapes for grape juice and make some at home, he knows how to make homemade fruit juice, just give him good fruit, that's it and he'll make yum yum smoothies. probably would tell adelinde that he'll cook for any upcoming picnic dates you guys have. ・next upcoming dates would always be a surprise though, he isn't always the man to do the same thing over and over again, restaurant dates with him feel like a dream though! he rents out the whole place, so that's it's just both of you, and from past conversations whenever he's asked you about things, he does take note mentally about your favorite food, favorite place, etc. he'll probably try to learn how to make the dishes you love too! ・coffee dates at home, definitely just both of you cuddling and spending time together by talking to each other, or going out for a walk, probably would also have set up something so that both of you could stargaze at night when ever meteor shower were scheduled that day. very thoughtful, will gift you whatever you frequently talk about things like jewelry, he'll buy whatever's best fitting to you, he loves seeing you wear what he bought, definitely does something to him. ・he probably asks lisa and jean for advice, they both laugh at him lmao, "i'm happy you both are together, after so long, but nothing gives me a laugh more than diluc trying to ask for help from us is something out of the ordinary", jean probably nods and laughs with her girlfriend too, but they do give him good advice trying to help you both, lots of laughs through out it though hehe. 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐑, when will he propose? did it go wrong, but in a right way? or did it go according to how he wanted it to go?

・probably does go according to what he planned, maybe after 2/4+ years or being together, he'd start thinking about marriage, and having a family with you. very often in the 1st or 2nd year of dating/being his partner, he'd start to think, and maybe even once asked you if you ever wanted to get married one day. marriage with you, or having a family in general, was constantly on his mind, and never left. also to answer the question if he wants kids; yes, 1-3. ・did it go wrong in a good way, or did it go accordingly; it went accordingly, it went well, he's super happy, he had given you a whole speech, holding your hand, he memorized the speech by heart, the whole time he's on the verge of tears and slowly getting on one knee once he's almost done with the speech, and brings out a beautiful ruby jewel on the top, with a gold mixed with silver base, he thinks it compliments your beauty. probably had rented out a restaurant for it, to make it seem like a normal date. took you out to a secret hangout of his that he decorated with plants that only shine in the night. ・in a way, it went both ways too, putting that ring on your ring finger was an amazing feeling, he fell in love all over again, both of you have tears running down each other's cheeks, this was one of the happiest nights ever, before you both had your wedding a month later. your wedding is probably lowkey private, inviting mostly who are fairly close to you guys; jean, lisa, kaeya, the traveler, paimon, etc.!! (jean catches the bouquet when you do the bouquet toss thing)

NSFW HEADCANNONS. read at ur own risk ♡

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐑, general nsfw hcs :D ・likes being in control probably, maybe breeding kink, but he probably just wants you and him to feel good, your body is his no. 1 kink. maybe corruption kink too though, anyways medium/high sex drive-ish, doesn't masturbate that much, usually gets turned on by revealed skin, like revealing clothing on you gets him going, like i said, mostly anything that concerns your body, is what he definitely loves the most, everything about you gets him going, probably jerked off to you once or twice before you guys started dating, he's probably sensitive too, pretty prone to orgasms, doesn't cum that quick i guess ・probably pulls your head closer to his shaft while you're blowing him, maybe 6.325 flaccid, 8.459 hard. his pounds get harder the more you guys are into the moment. like in the heat of the moment he probably degrades you, he doesn't mean it and reassures you during aftercare sessions. loves it when you look at him in the eyes, likes it a bit too much actually, positions he loves is anything that concerns you looking at him, and him getting to see your whole body. ・i feel like he tops more often, but is a switch, he leans to dominating much more. but if he was a submissive baby, praise him, like a lot. mark his body, let him know he's yours. pound him hard while you tell him praise, with your strap/dick, he'll absolutey fall. hearing how he makes you feel, makes him even more horny too. ・he sucks the life out of ur dick/pussy, like it's unreal. will not waste any drop of your cum. oh by the way suck his nipples while fucking his hole :D!! ・after everything's done, aftercare with him is great. loves showering with you after, lots of praise after everything's done because he wants you to remember he still cares about you, want you to remember that.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin sub smut #genshin x female reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x you #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x male reader #diluc x gender neutral reader #diluc smut #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #sub diluc #diluc headcanons

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: They don’t suck at dating when they date each other

I wrote a 6x18 “Pay it Forward” Coda fanfic (linked here) based on the comment Buck made to Eddie while they were in the fire engine in 6x17 “Love is in the Air” regarding Eddie sucking at dating and I decided to expound on it in a blog post.

The truth is neither of them suck at dating when they date each other and that may have been the point the show was attempting to convey to the audience when Buck told Eddie, “So that’s what it is... you suck at it” followed by Chimney agreeing with him.  Did most of the GA pick up on it?  Probably not but the truth is both of them suck at dating but only when they try to date other people.

Eddie

In CANON Eddie’s only dated two women, well he was married to SD and he dated AF but that’s not the point. The audience learned in 6x17 Eddie met SD when he was in the 8th grade, they lost touch but they reconnected when they were in the 12th grade and after he got her pregnant (either sometime right before their high school graduation or shortly after) they got married and started an instant family.  Therefore, it’s safe to say if they did date it wasn’t anything like the type of dates he would have gone on as an adult because they were teenagers when they became spouses and parents.

When he dated AF, they had two actual dates, i.e., the breakfast date in 4x6 “Jinx” and their creepy math date in 4x8 “Breaking Point”. They weren’t shown going on any other dates in CANON because their trip to the suit store and the ambulance ride to the hospital in 5x1 “Panic” don’t count as dates.

Therefore, even though Eddie’s a bit inexperienced, he DID NOT SUCK at dating when he took Buck to play poker in 6x13 “Mixed Feelings” and he didn’t have any performance anxiety issues while they were together.

Buck

Even though Buck has dated more women than Eddie, based on his CANON dates, it appears he sucks at dating too.  In season 1, every time he took AC on a date it ended in disaster.  When they went to a nice restaurant for Valentine’s Day she ended up having to give him a tracheotomy because he choked on a piece of bread.  He also tried to take her on a hot air balloon ride but they didn’t get to do it because she had to leave to deal with her mother.

The hookups he had with TK in 2x8 “Buck Actually” don’t count as dates because they didn’t go anywhere.  He went to the bar to meet Chimney and TK bought him a drink before they ended up in the restroom together.  Also, them almost hooking up in the news van was not a date.  He met AM for coffee at the end of 2x8 after she asked him out but all they were shown doing was talking while they sat in a coffee shop or whatever. 

He met Veronica for a dinner date in 4x7 “There Goes the Neighborhood” but it ended up being a disaster.  When he invited TK to join him, Veronica and Albert for dinner in 4x8, it wasn’t a date because he invited her there so he wouldn’t have to face Veronica and Albert alone.  Once he officially started dating TK, all they did was spend a whole year during season 5 entombed in his loft and they weren’t shown going out to any restaurants or to the movies.  His trip to Oklahoma to surprise her doesn’t count because visiting a prison isn’t a date, right?  The one time they had a “successful” lunch date was in 4x11 “First Responders” but they were just friends and he invitied her there to ask her for a favor.

Finally, him and ND met for coffee in 6x15 “Death and Taxes” but they weren’t dating   She asked him out so she could learn more about the lightning strike and his death.  He called her and they went on two dates in 6x17 but they both got interrupted when LD showed up at the bar and TK and Kameron interrupted their second date while they were at his loft.

But when Buck went to play poker with Eddie in 6x13, he had a great time and there weren’t any mishaps. Their date didn’t suck because as usual they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other and even though they were playing a low stakes game of poker, they were practically pressed against each other while the other players sat with at least one chair’s length of space between them.

The point of this post is Buck and Eddie only suck at dating when they try to date other people but they don’t suck at it when they date each other.

In CANON, their poker date was the best date either of them ever had.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fox #911 on fox #911onfox #911 abc #911 on abc #911 meta #911 s6 #911 season 6 #911 season 6 speculation #911 #anti natalia #anti taylor kelly #anti abby clark #anti ana flores #anti ali martin #anti lucy donato #anti shannon diaz

[thedarkonesposts]

I could talk about Kylar all day so here’s part one of god knows how many of random Kylar headcanons. Feel free to add your own or discuss mine! I love to chat.

Random:

- He knows how to play piano, his parents made him learn when young but he never really enjoyed it so he stopped once they transformed. He still remembers a good deal though

- He doesn’t have a mirror in his room due to being extremely insecure, he even removed the mirror from his bathroom- and covered most of the others in the house to avoid having to see himself

- He has bad social anxiety and hates going to crowded places. He does better in quiet outdoor places as opposed to indoor ones since there’s typically less people.

- He has adhd, borderline personality disorder, an anxiety disorder, likely autism, and severe depression.

- He loves to read romance novels and imagine himself in them, the sappier the better.

- He had a crush on Sydney as a kid.

- Human death has stopped bothering him, he’s quite desensitized to gore, violence, and death- unless an animal is involved. He’ll have a full nervous break over seeing a dead animal.

- Stutters and struggles to pronounce certain words. Has a little bit of a lisp that absolutely isn’t helped by how soft his voice is.

- He loves dating games / visual novels, he religiously plays free otome games and models the mc after himself

- He’s trans ftm and despite his stature passes very well. Most people at school just think he’s a runty effeminate boy.

Appearance / body headcanons:

- Kylar has a million nervous habits, his fingers are always chewed up. Nails bitten, skin peeled, it’s an awful nervous habit that he tries to combat with bandaids but ends up just moving to a different finger as soon as access is lost. He picks at his skin a lot too, any little blemish will be picked so badly it becomes a crater and scars.. and He has a *lot* of scars. Self harm ones, accidental ones, ones just from picking and such. Most of them are on his hands, wrists and thighs but he kind of has them all over. he’s a biter and chewer too. His lips are always dry so he chews the skin off, his lips are always cracked and bloody, he doesn’t care though.

- He’s 4’11” but looks even smaller due to terrible posture, he’s always hunched over.

- He’s physically very sensitive but his neck, thighs, and hands are his most sensitive areas.

- He has terrible eye bags all the time and looks tired- unless manic.

- His pupils dilate easily so he often has huge blown out pupils.

- His hairs wavy/curly but typically greasy so it never quite looks right. It’s always messy and knotted- sticking out every which way.

- He’s extremely pale, bordering on looking sickly. He blushes and also bruises extremely easily- something as simple as grabbing his wrist will bruise.

- Has very bony knees, fingers, and hips

- Most of his clothes are stained, he rarely if ever does laundry and leaves his clothes in piles around his room to grab and wear when he needs.

- A lot of his clothes are also ill fitted and huge. He’ll only wear long sleeves even if he’s alone at home, big sweatshirts and hoodies are the most comforting option for him so he usually wears them every day- even hot days.

- His shirts have all had the end of the sleeves chewed on, hoodie drawstrings too.

Affection headcanons:

- he likes neck and cheek kisses the best.

- He loves to lay in his partners lap, or vice versa.

- He will constantly draw and write about his partner, it’s an easier way to show love than verbalizing it. He struggles with words so poetry or art serves to close the gap.

- He uses a lot of pet names, he’s awkward and stunted with verbal affection but pet names come easily, as does praise.

- Napping / sleeping together is one of his favorite things.

-he licks a lot. Just randomly licks and bites partners to show affection

Kink headcanons:

- He has a size kink, he likes being smaller than his partner- especially if they take advantage of that difference in size.

- he prefers to be submissive, and has a naturally submissive personality, only being dominant when it’s out of rage or delusion.

- He really likes praise but also degradation. He’d personally only praise- borderline worship partners but enjoys either when done to him. It does also depend on what’s being said. For praise he likes anything but for degradation he likes things about his size, his intelligence, and his sexual experience. He hates to be degraded for his looks, or degraded in a way that compares him to others- he’ll get legitimately insecure.

- blood kink.

- Likes to be called pet names, kitten, baby, literally anything soft and affectionate will make him weak.

- He’s into a lot of things he would do while hysteric, but wants them done to himself. Being kidnapped? Turns him on. Being tied up or kept in a cage? He’d be in heaven. He has a huge thing for power imbalance and wants to be helpless

- Rapekink,,, goes both ways.

- Breeding. Obviously.

- He likes saliva a lot. Spitting, messy kissing, licking, saliva being shared in any way really does it for him

- He’s very open to experimenting with kinks, will try anything honestly.

Potentially triggering / dark headcanons:

(Tw: eating disorder mention, drug abuse, unhealthy habits, Sa)

- he abuses prescription meds he’s on, intentionally od’s on antidepressants for the forced mania it gives when depressed, takes too many anxiety meds to black out, will use anything recreationally if given a chance.

- Kylar has a really weird relationship with food. He either doesn’t eat or eats an insane amount of unhealthy food all at once, never an in between. In general he only really eats junk food and only knows how to cook because he thinks it would impress others. Half the time he doesn’t have the motivation to actually make himself something, the other half he’s just not hungry. he started intentionally restricting food when he was younger but never really was able to fix his relationship with food and hunger, he also struggles with body image so gaining weight scares him.

- Kylar was sexually abused when younger leading to a lot of his issues, his bpd and hypersexuality developed mostly as a result of the abuse.

- He equates sex to love, he doesn’t understand that there’s a difference and they can exist without each other. To him sex is the ultimate act of love because that’s what he’s been taught- so he constantly tries to have sex with his partner in order to validate that. He’ll get extremely anxious and upset if turned down, because he feels like the other person doesn’t love him. He also won’t say no, no matter if he wants it or not. Consent is a weird topic with him and he has little to no actual understanding of it. To him if you love someone you have sex with them, no matter what.

- He gets really bad depressive episodes when he isn’t manic, withdrawing from his hobbies and sleeping most of the time

- Has a drug problem. (Have a more in depth post abt this specifically)

#kylar the loner #tsefried rambles #sydney the fallen #sydney the faithful #dol kylar #degrees of lewdity kylar #degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity fanfic #headcanons #kylar headcanons

[mrszeoxin]

A Date with Death

This is a game I found on TikTok through the developer of the game. I was very intrigued because it has a fully customizable MC both physically and with names and pronouns which I thought was really cool. You can also customize MCs room, and the game is free to play! There were also some other fun aspects about the game they posted on TikTok that really interested me. Of course I originally saw videos about the game months ago before it came out, but luckily I did see the post from the developer when it came out a few days ago and I couldn’t wait to play.

About the Boy

In this game you romance a grim reaper who’s after you (technically your soul, but still). And although he is smart, confident, and a literal vessel for death, he is also absolutely adorable! He’s not very knowledgeable about humans, can be easily flustered, and is super fun to tease!

Truly such a cutie!

So he’s a classic long while hair, red eyes anime boy and we love to see it. It’s not my ideal type, but he is in fact adorable, and has a great outfit so I can’t complain. I love how many facial expressions they give him, often I feel like visual novels don’t change them enough so it was really refreshing to see.

I really liked his character! He really is babygirl.

First Run

My first try I went in and tried to only do the non-DLC responses (I bought the DLC so I had some extra options) since I wanted to see what the free versions were like. It was soooo fun!!! I was kicking my feet and giggling so much! I got Ending 3 my first time for reference. I don’t want to spoil too much, but oml it’s such a fun and cute game! You should definitely check it out especially because it is free, so what is there to loose!

Definitely super fun if you enjoy sarcasm, witty banter, teasing, and being a bit of a brat. I loved it so much! It took me about 4 hours to play it once through.

Second Run

This time I used the DLC choices, and it was super fun. It just adds more fun ways to tease him in addition to an extra ending which I got (Ending 4).

Very fun! I recommend getting it if you can afford it and want to support the developers! But also I think you can have a lot of fun just playing the free endings too.

Third Run

I originally planned on playing for a third time after posting my thoughts on here, but I was so excited that I caved and played again immediately because after looking at the achievements I realized my first time playing I was right between two endings, so I had to get Ending 5. So I played using my first run answers, changed a one on day 6 and got Ending 5! It was so cute! I love this game!!!

Overall Thoughts

I loved this game. It’s pretty fast for a dating sim/visual novel, but the pacing is really good. It has 17 achievements for you to unlock, and 5 possible endings(?). So far I’ve done 3 endings, and 14 achievements. I definitely would play it again sometime! The only endings I didn’t do are the mini bad ending (no CG), and the real bad end (CG), because I don’t like playing bad endings. These two ending would give you another two achievements, and the last achievement is also easy to get but it made me sad so I didn’t. I know I’m being pretty vague, because I like to avoid spoilers, but especially because this game literally came out like 4 days ago I really want to keep what happens a surprise.

But it was so fun. It really feels like your choices matter because things you say affect things you can or can’t say later, it’s way more dynamic than any other otome game. I really loved that about the game, because it really feels like you’re there and what you say and do matter.

It’s literally free to play on Steam and I really can’t recommend it enough! Especially if you like cute flustered guys and lots of flirting and teasing you will for sure love this game! I loved it so much and genuinely it made me laugh and smile so much!

#otome #english otome #dating sim #visual novel #a date with death #otome game

[haihaihaitani]

First Kiss Fireworks ~ *Hakkai Shiba*

Summary: Hakkai has yet to have his first kiss. He hasn't told you this but he is hoping to kiss you at your end of your date. However, he freezes every time you look at him. Will he be able to give you his first kiss before the end of the night?

Pairing: Hakkai Shiba X G/N!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 967

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

It was a big step. A first kiss. Hakkai had really only seen kisses on TV. He never imagined he would ever kiss another person. It scared him half to death, probably more than it scared you.

The thought caused him to glance over at you. Your eyes were still trained on the dark sky, as if you stared long enough the fireworks would finally appear. However you still had another twenty minutes to wait. 

Hakkai had to pat himself on the back. It was the perfect date. He had taken you to a local festival and the two of you had the best time ever. From the food to the games, everything was perfect. The only little snag was every time he looked at you, he felt a strong urge to pull you into his arms and kiss you. However, before he could do so, he panicked and looked away instead.

He couldn’t kiss you. He just couldn’t.

“Hakkai?”

The poor boy snapped to attention as you called his name. “What?”

You giggled. “I was just asking what colors you think we’ll see. You know, for the fireworks.”

“Oh…” He bit his lip, trying to shift his thoughts from kissing you to the fireworks you were about to witness. “I think there will be yellow and red fireworks, for sure. Maybe some green and blue. Um, I’m not sure about other colors?”

You hummed at his response. “In all honesty, I don’t really care what colors they are. I’m just glad I get to sit and watch them here with you.”

If your words didn’t cause him to freeze, your shoulder brushing his most certainly did. It felt like electricity was coursing through his veins. He felt himself fidgeting, trying not to think about how romantic it would be if he kissed you right here, right now. He couldn’t help himself. You just looked so enchanting this evening and he has been struck by you all night. Kissing you would be the only logical response to how well today went. But he just couldn’t do it.

Hakkai knotted his fingers in the grass, trying not to grit his teeth. He wondered if Taiju or Yuzuha ever kissed anyone before. He didn’t think Taiju had, considering he was so preoccupied with the Black Dragons. But maybe Yuzuha has. Maybe she had a string of secret boyfriends neither brother knew about. He wouldn't put it past her. Perhaps she knew the best way to kiss. He wouldn't know. Could Hakkai be falling behind his sister in the ways of romance? 

He shook his head discreetly, not wanting to think about that right now. Instead, he tried to think of what kind of advice Yuzuha would give him in a situation like this. Of course, her first reaction would be to laugh at him and make fun of him for taking you on a date. But maybe when her laughter died down, she would tell him to wait till the fireworks show starts, take your hand gently, cup your face tenderly, and kiss you right as the fireworks explode. That would certainly be romantic.

Hakkai could feel his heart skip a beat in his chest. Romance was not his forte. But maybe he could try, just for you. Maybe he could sweep you off your feet in one grand finale to wrap up the night. He just needed to get over how terrified he was to initiate such a tender kiss with you.

“Tonight was perfect.” He heard you say.

“Really?” He internally cringed at the fact he sounded more bewildered than he wanted.

You nodded. “Yeah. Everything about tonight was just perfect. From the candy apple we shared to you winning me that cute keychain. I had so much fun tonight. And these fireworks will be the perfect cherry on top to the perfect day.”

“Yeah, they will be.”

There was a small pause before you looked at him with those sparkling eyes that made him melt. However, he froze right back up when you took his hand in yours. Despite how emotionally vulnerable the moment was, you still kept your eyes on him and he couldn't look away.

“I want to thank you for inviting me to go out with you tonight, although I don’t think a simple thank you will suffice. Is there anything I can do to show you how truly thankful I am for spending a night like this with you?”

Hakkai wanted to say it. He wanted to ask you for a kiss. But the words were caught in the back of his throat. Seeing you look at him like that, so sweet and tender, he couldn’t help but get all tongue-tied. So instead of asking what he really wanted, he smiled and looked down at your intertwined hands.

“No thanks is necessary. Just being with you is perfect for me.”

You didn’t seem satisfied with his answer as you leaned in closer and asked, “Surely there must be something on your mind?”

“I-”

“Look! It’s starting!” A little boy sitting with his family nearby yelled, pointing to where they were lighting the fireworks for the show. While Hakkai was distracted by the shout, your eyes were still firmly locked on him.

“Maybe I have an idea.”

The rocket’s fuse was lit.

“Can I kiss you?”

It launched into the sky.

“Yes, please.”

Right as your lips touched, the firework exploded, gold sparkles cascading to the earth. However, Hakkai wasn’t paying attention. All of his thoughts were completely on you and the kiss, his first kiss. Fireworks of his own were erupting in his stomach and causing his heart to flutter. He couldn’t have asked for a perfect ending to a perfect night.

When you pulled away, you smiled at him sweetly. “Perfect.”

#Tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Revengers Fanfiction #Tokyo Revengers Drabble #Anime #Anime Fanfiction #Anime Drabble #Tokyo Manji Gang #Hakkai Shiba #Hakkai Shiba X Reader #Hakkai Shiba Fanfiction #Hakkai Shiba Drabble #Hakkai Shiba Fluff #Hakkai #Hakkai X Reader #Hakkai Fanfiction #Hakkai Drabble #Hakkai Fluff #Drabble #Fluff

[cookiesupplier]

Hell Ain't So Bad - Part Eight

pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie), 

warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut (eventually), angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, violence and swearing.

summary: Ellie was lost in the world, homeless with no idea what to do and nowhere to go.. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?

author’s note: Unbetaed, readers beware.. if you want to chat with me about ideas/theories for this story, my asks are always open.

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @bngurngheart @cncohshit @valiantroeagleangel @blackveilomens @dominuslunae @tearfallpixie

Tags are open, ask if you'd like to be added, to this list specifically or in general.

Ellie would like it known, she did not know how this happened. She didn’t. Clearly the night got away from them, away from her. She’d been having fun with the guys, even talking to some of the girls at the bar, laughing, swapping stories about idiots they’d dated. Whether here or in the living world, it didn’t seem to make a difference really where they were from. Making fun of the idiots, some of them apparently were in the room with them when it came to some of the stories that the demon females were telling, much to the males' chagrin. 

Oh, to see the way some of their faces changed colour when they heard the stories that were being told as they poured back the shots at the bar, it was quite hilarious. Not just red faced, there was one demon that turned bright blue, but Ellie had a feeling that that was an entirely different story for another day.

Also, it had nothing to do with a predicament she now found herself in.

Actually, it might have everything to do with the predicament she found herself in.

She might just be a wee little bit tipsy and apparently had the need to be escorted back to her apartment building. Just to be sure she got back in one piece, of course.

Only this time she wasn’t being walked home by Jolly, or Folio. Nope. Folio had pretty much passed out at the bar with Jolly and Nicholas now carrying him out together, with Noah offering to walk her home, Noah. She didn’t want Noah to walk her home, with how many times Jolly had caught her half staring at him so far. Frankly she didn’t even want to think about why either, it was stupid, and ridiculous, so she tried to protest. Insisted she’d be just fine walking home on her own, only for Noah to ask her if she even had her address memorised yet, and she’d stared at him for a second too long, blinking.

“I thought so.”

Noah had rolled his eyes and looked back to the other boys with a knowing smirk, 

“I’ll get your new little pet home safe and sound boys, don’t you worry about her pretty little head any, she’ll be just fine.”

Patting her head patronisingly then, Ellie slapped his hand away from her then with a groan,

“Asshole.”

Stalking her way to the door of the bar herself, a bit wobbly on her feet but walking just fine thank you. She could and would walk home just fine. Mister I’m-way-too-fucking-tall-for-my-own-good could follow her all he liked if he wanted, but that was his prerogative. She didn’t need him, or his pretty boy face at all. She certainly didn’t need Jolly chuckling after as she stalked off either, shut up Jolly, this wasn’t funny.

Time to go. As she made for the exit of the bar, Noah stopped her from going any further from grabbing her arm, stopping her at the doorway, but when she pulled her arm out of his grip, she wobbled on her feet, and he immediately, reached for her shoulder to steady her as Jolly and Nicholas went past carrying Folio. Obviously he’d lost his game with Noah for the shots, by, a lot. He was a never say die when it came to his drinking games type it would seem. Beautiful thing about already being dead it would seem, you didn’t have to worry about alcohol poisoning. Made for a bitch of a hangover though according to Jolly, they were not going to like dealing with him tomorrow. Joy. 

Maybe she’d see if the hangover cure she used to make before she dropped out of college still works on souls that overdose on shots against idiot demons that are way too tall, and too sexy, and are now standing over her with that judgemental brooding stare. Well, she was going to have to make one for herself anyway, might as well try to make one for Folio as well, and just see if it worked. Then again, she didn’t even know if it would work on her, who knows what the liquor was like here in Hell!

Ellie refused to think about how it felt to have those long fingers grip her shoulder carefully as he’d steadied her, or the almost disappointment when they’d slipped away when she’d moved from Noah to start walking from the door down the footpath, him starting alongside her. A low chuckle came and she swore it was because he knew she was being stubborn. 

'Shut up.'

“You first.”

She spun to look at him with a gasp as he immediately responded to her thoughts, she knew it! There was no denying it now, no way in hell,

“Ha, gotcha! You guys can read minds, I knew it!”

The chuckle that came from Noah then had her eyes narrowing as she glared at him, he was just blatantly making fun of her and she didn’t like it. Okay, so she was probably just some pathetic human to him, a living human at that. One that hadn’t been able to survive in the normal world properly, she got it. Asshole. At least she wasn’t the one going around stealing peoples food when they gave it away here for free!

“Actually sorry to disappoint, but no, you, are just extremely easy to read. The tension in your shoulders as you walked, like a coil ready to spring, I just knew you wanted to lash out at me, it really isn’t hard to tell what you're thinking.”

Her shoulders squared then, Ellie huffed dramatically as she turned on her heel, damn him and his tension. She wasn’t feeling any tension. She wasn’t remotely coiled like a spring. Never mind that one look at him she felt like if he wanted he could probably do whatever he wanted with her including bending her in half while he did and she’d thank him for it.. Fuck.. Keep Walking Ellie.

Quick, quick, she needed to think of something else. Even if he couldn’t read her mind, apparently he could read her well enough that he at least seemed to be able to read her mind.

“Why do you look human?”

The words were just blurted out without thinking.

“Some demons look well, demon-like, then there is Nick who looks human, you look, well, now you look human, but before you didn’t.. What gives?”

There. Different subject. Completely different subject. Well, almost completely different subject. She didn’t want to think about the fact that it was connected to the fact that his face was so damn pretty, too pretty, the kind of idiot that she used to slap, his face, he was so pretty, it was horrible, and he knew it too. 

“I understand it with Nick, he works in the living world, but you, working here, are punishing people. Why do you look human?”

Noah walking beside her shrugged those broad shoulders a little. Those broad muscular shoulders, damn, was there anything about this man that wasn’t alluring. Sure so many demons she’d seen were interesting, whether they looked human or not, there was just something about them, but Noah was on a different level entirely. 

“From what I hear you’ve already learned about the illusion magic, well, this is more, shapeshifting of a sort. We can look how we please.”

Oh, oh, that had her laughing as she glanced to him as she walked, grinning wide,

“So you like this, you like looking like a stupid ass pretty boy, oh my god!”

She had to stop walking then, she was laughing, she was laughing so hard she was bending over her hands on her knees to support herself before she fell flat on her face. When she was laughing a thought struck her and a fresh peel of laughter hit her and she stood up looking towards him brightly,

“You’re practically a frat boy Demon Lord, damn, mister all, pretty boy, with your drinking games and drinking each other under the table, I mean, really Noah? Can you get more frat party boy, ohhhh!”

She was laughing, and the laughing was all she could do to cover her reaction to the low rough growl that was coming from Noah right then with that dark look as he stood over her like that. Oh god, please let him not be able to tell the way her body tensed, her thighs pressing together, breath catching in her throat as her heart skipped, damn frat boy party boy stupid demon lord.

“No, it just means that not everyone always sees me like, this.”

He just seemed to tower over her even more as his eyes seemed to flicker with fire for a moment like they had when his features had been more demonic in the bar, but other than that, his face didn’t change this time, just the flicker of fire in the colour of the iris of his eyes.

“Every demon is born looking, to a degree, less than human. The higher level a demon, the less human they appear, the encompassing their ah, shall we say demonic form. Those of us high enough, even in our human forms it cant be fully hidden, even with illusion and shapeshifting.”

Smirking as she couldn’t help but looking down at his body, she was trying not to study his form as he spoke, to see if she could see anything about him that would give away what he was saying. How his demonic nature couldn’t be fully hidden, what he meant. Chuckling and her eyes flew back up to hers as she knew she’d been caught practically ogling him as she’d been staring at his arms, exposed from his tank top.

“Bingo, tattoos, piercings, everything. Nicholas, myself, we’re practically covered even when we’re in our full human shift.”

Swallowing heavily, his full human shift. The way he said that made her think on the way he looked back in the bar when she’d snapped at his fingers and he’d reefed his hand back and it had shifted into vicious claws instead, claws he could have used on her so easily with the way he’d looked. Then again, he hadn’t, and she didn’t think he would have, even if the others hadn’t been there. No matter how he looked, under his skin, he wasn’t a monster, he wasn’t angry, demons might be considered evil by the living, but… all Noah did was make her feel…

“Full human shift, what about, fully demonic. What do you look like? Underneath all of that, what do you really look like, Noah?”

When she asked that, her voice caught when she said his name, his already dark eyes turning almost as black as coal, flickering again with that flame of the so-called typical fires of hell that most would talk about. Looking up to him, the way his presence washed over her caused her to shudder with an almost longing for him to touch, but she didn’t dare reach for him, that would give him too much power, and with that he blinked. One second they were outside on the footpath, and the next, they were outside her apartment. He’d teleported them. Her back was being pressed right against her door, Noah towering over her, his hand pressing against her door beside her head and leaning his body closer into hers but not quite touching her, his lips curling into a wry smirk,

“Oh, BabyGirl, you couldn’t handle it.”

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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