#and knowing his side of the family NOW a lot of them really suck

[underoossss]

Head over Heels - S.H

masterlist

pairing: steve harrington x grumpy!f!reader

summary: Steve falls for Robin’s grumpy friend, and he falls hard.

warnings: family problems mention, trust issues, angst, hurt/comfort, no spoilers, (there’s fluff I promise!!!)

grumpy x sunshine trope

an: I know this is the first Steve fic I’ve posted IN FOREVER and I’m sorry! my writer’s block, personal problems, work and health, have all contributed to how long it took me to finish this. But I promise to make it worth your while, this is the same length as babe baby beautiful and I hope it makes you happy. I dedicate this to all my grumpy beloveds out there, who, like me. don’t relate 100% to the sunshine tropes bc sometimes life just freaking sucks. I poured my heart out with this one so, I hope this comforts you and that you like it! Please let me know. 💘

——-

The September breeze pushes Steve’s hair back as he makes his way to the Hawkin’s start-of-autumn fair, a new thing the town is trying out to make the citizens feel more upbeat after all the incidents they’ve experienced. His friends trail after him, Mike and Lucas arguing over something he doesn’t understand, Max listening to Dusting complain about some prank the soccer team played on the Hellfire Club and Robin walking by his side. Everyone shouts food orders over their shoulder, running towards the picnic tables in search for an empty one, and leaving Steve and Robin alone.

His friend is rambling by his side, and Steve nods along to what she’s telling him. She has a new friend this year, met her at homeroom when she was introduced as a new student. A senior like Robin, she got along with her just fine. I talk a lot and she doesn’t, it’s a good fit, I think she really needed a friend that day, Robin says, and now she’s friends with all of us. Steve hums in understanding, switching schools in senior year sounds awful, and he wonders why you chose to do that. He wouldn’t, unless it was for something serious.

“Anyway here she comes!” Robin says excitedly, waving you over. “I can’t believe she actually came, she’s not comfortable with strangers and she doesn’t know you. I thought she’d sit this one out.”

Steve follows Robin’s line of sight and spots you walking towards them in the distance. Baby blue sweater, light washed jeans and black high-top converse, make you stand out from the orange foliage around you. Your face is serious as you get closer, only breaking into a small smile when you wave at Robin and accept her hug. When you step back your face morphs back to neutrality, a slight furrow to your brow as you hide your hands in your back pockets.

Robin says your name and motions towards Steve. “This is Steve, the friend I told you about.” She explains, “He’s our chauffeur, monster-fighter and designated babysitter.”

Steve furrows his brows and looks sideways at Robin before he looks at you and grins. “Hi, nice to meet you.” He offers his hand and you give it one quick shake before pulling back and looking away. Steve wasn’t expecting that reaction, but he guesses what Robin said is true, you don’t like strangers.

“We’re going to get Apple fritters! They have massive ones here and they serve them with big scoops of ice cream.” Robin tells you, glancing down the line as it moves. There are only three people left to order, so the three of you step into line. “Let me check if they’re still doing the ice cream on top.”

With that, Steve is left to wait next to you until Robin is back. You shift from one leg to another, almost nervously and Steve glances at you. Your eyes meet his and then look away, not scared or nervous, just looking away like you can’t be bothered to make conversation with him. Is he intimidating? Steve asks himself or are you just a massive buzzkill that can’t even comment on the weather.

Steve tries again, scratching his cheek. “So, uh, you’re in senior year like Robin?”

You nod, looking down at your feet before looking at him. “Yeah, we have a lot of classes together. I know the guys over there as well.” Your hand lifts to point at Eddie, who’s just arrived at the table, and the kids talking around him.

Huh, so you do speak, Steve notes, but only when prompted. “Cool.” He nods, looking at your face and noticing the way you look away immediately. “So why did you move to Hawkins all of a sudden? I mean senior year, that’s gotta be rough.”

You press your lips together, looking uncomfortable by the question. Steve has the faint idea that he asked the wrong thing. “I should go say hi to everyone.” You say after an awkward cough. “If there’s ice cream can you tell Robin I’m good with cookie dough?”

Steve wordlessly takes the 5 bucks you hand him and sees you rush away from him. In the distance he can see everyone’s faces light up when they spot you, beckoning you over with excited waves, and your reluctant barely there smile as you greet them and sit down. Steve doesn’t get it; he is half mortified and half confused when Robin comes back. How is it that everyone is your friend when you’re so closed off and Steve doesn’t want to say it but… grumpy.

“Are you sure your friend wants to be here?” Steve asks Robin, looking over at you again. You’re sitting with your elbows leaning on the table, listening to everyone talk around you, neutral expression on your face. Bored, even.

“Of course, she does.” Robin is quick to say. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, she doesn’t look too thrilled to be talking to you.” Steve shrugs.

“You clearly don’t know her.” Robin shakes her head. “What did you do?”

“I only asked her about her move to Hawkins.” Steve holds his hands up defensively, then adds. “She said she likes cookie dough ice cream.”  

They pause their conversation to order the fritters and pay, then continue talking while they wait.

“Okay, you shouldn’t have asked that. First of all.” Robin rolls her eyes, “Second of all, she’s friends with all of us.”

Steve huffs in disbelief. “Oh so she likes you? That’s her I like you face.”

“She adores us, you… not really but that’s cause she doesn’t know you.” Robin nods with certainty, then worries her bottom lip. “The move question is just tricky for her.”

Steve moves to say something when their order is called, and she go back to the booth to take the trays laid out in front of them. There are eight apple fritters with ice cream they have to juggle back to the table but manage to fit in their hands and arms.

“Look Steve.” Robin says seriously, lowering her voice after a sigh.” She slows her pace, so they take longer to get back to the table. “She has been through a rough time; I won’t tell you what because it took her a long time to trust me enough to open up.”

“Okay…” Steve nods, going over her words and feeling a soft pang of guilt. He wouldn’t have judged you so harshly if he knew you were struggling with something. He wouldn’t have asked you about you changing towns. “You could’ve told me that before I messed up earlier. Before I was bitchy too.”

“You’re always bitchy.” Robin huffs, then hums when she looks at you sitting in the distance. “She’s wonderful Steve, in her own way, so don’t judge her by the way she presents herself. When she trusts you, you’ll see what I‘m talking about.” She gives him a pointed look.  

Robin’s words echo in his head as they reach the picnic table and hand over the food to their friends. Steve places yours in front of you with a nod to which you say thank you. Now that he knows a little more about you, Steve guesses you were both left with a bad first impression. They aren’t his forte, and it’s not his fault you weren’t the same person with him as you are with Robin. You don’t know each other, of course it was going to be awkward. Steve sees what Robin means as everyone chats and eats; he sees it in the way your eyes soften, and lips smile slightly when Max begins to tell you something. He sees it in the way you lean closer to the redhead and whisper something that has her laughing soon after; you smile as well before turning your attention back to the group. Dustin and Eddie are planning some sort of revenge on the jocks from the soccer team who messed up something in their Hellfire Room.

Steve tries to focus on what they’re saying but he’s too busy looking at you, trying to figure you out. What happened? What’s the thing that you told Robin that made you keep the gentleness you showed to Max tucked away? You feel him looking at you and meet his eyes, it’s a distrustful glance from the way you narrow your eyes at him. Okay, Steve probably stared at you too long. He looks away and hears you sigh before you do too, tuning back into the conversation between the Hellfire club sitting at the other end of the picnic table.

“That’s a horrible plan.” You say plainly, making Max snort and Eddie pause the conversation. The metalhead rolls his eyes –no annoyance, no malice in sight. Steve supposes Eddie knows you like Robin does.

“Why is that, buttercup?” Eddie asks.

“They’ll know it was you, and they’ll beat you up, Munson.” You tell him seriously with an eye roll of your own –Steve doesn’t need to know you to catch the concern in your tone. “Put some laxatives in their protein powders instead.”

Steve lets out a bark of laughter that startles the table; that would be a good prank if he’s being honest. Everyone turns to look at him, including you and Steve clears his throat. “It’s a good idea.” He mumbles rubbing his chin, then meets your eyes briefly to find something like amusement in them.

“No, no, no.” Dustin shakes his head. “It is an objectively good plan, there’s no way they’ll know it’s us.”

“Yeah, we’ll wait for them to leave and then sneak into the locker room.” Eddie adds. “We’ll seal their lockers shut, they can’t change into their gear the next day and their coach yells their ears off.”

“The perfect plan.” Dustin says proudly and looks around the take to see who agrees.

“You sure they won’t be able to trace the prank back to you? See it as immediate revenge for what they did?” Max asks nodding towards you, “She’s right.”

“We’re absolutely sure.” Eddie confirms with a nod, clapping his hands in front of him.

“Can I read the eulogy at your funeral then?” You ask Eddie and Dustin with fake enthusiasm. “I call dibs.”

Steve chuckles and next to him, Robin fakes discontent as she rolls her eyes. “Damn, I wanted to do it.”

You send a smile her way before you clear your throat. “Eddie and Dustin died as they lived.” Your words are solemn as you speak. “With bad plans and too much confidence that they’ll work.”

“They always work.” Eddie says, chuckling at your words with everyone else. You simply raise one eyebrow at him, which Steve must admit is hot, and Eddie shakes his head. “I guess they sort of work.”

“So, laxatives?” Dustin asks Eddie after a minute, a defeated hunch to his shoulders.

“Laxatives.” Eddie and the rest of Hellfire repeats before the table bursts into laughter– including Steve.

His eyes don’t leave you though. You’re not laughing like everyone else but there’s a small smile on your face. It is reserved but softens your face in the loveliest way. It shows him you are enjoying their company despite the otherwise inexpressive look on your face. Steve begins to wonder then… if he wins your trust, the one you have with Robin and Max, will you smile at him the same way you do with them? Bright and beautiful enough to blind him? He guesses it would be worth a shot, getting to know you more, because if he’s being honest, he’s intrigued.

--------

The next time Steve sees you it’s at a party. It’s mid-October and the cold weather turns it up a notch with the cold bite to the air. He wouldn’t have gone to the party in the first place, if he’s being honest, but Robin forced him to go. Everyone will be there she’d said but Steve didn’t know who everyone would be. Only when he arrived at Kevin Rotner’s house did he begin to recognize some familiar faces. Nancy, Johnathan, and Eddie arrive at the same time he does and the five of them walk up the driveway and the small path leading to the front porch. There’s loud chatter inside and a boombox playing to the loudest volume in the dinning room. There are people sitting in the staircase laughing at a joke and more loud conversation coming from the backyard. He navigates the house with his friends until Robin spots you in the kitchen, and Steve doesn’t know why he’s so nervous when he sees you. You greet Robin with a hug and shrug when she tells you something, he can hear. Your face is pretty and serious as you look over Robin’s shoulder, spotting everyone else coming to say hi. Steve sees you take a deep breath before you greet everyone — almost as if you’re preparing yourself for small talk and hugs. He greets you last, more open and approachable than last time, and he’s surprised when you wave. “Hi, Steve.”

Something inside Steve jumps, but he thinks it’s only his own surprise. He’s about to say something, when Robin and Nancy take your hand and drag you away with the promise of some new gossip, they have to tell you.

Steve talks to a few people here and there; mostly the ones he’s kept in touch with after high school. Other than that, he doesn’t know anyone else; he doesn’t know if it’s cause he’s grown up but he’s not really having fun. There are people jumping into the pool despite the weather while those who mind the cold have gathered inside the house. Steve’s mostly avoiding the crowds, where the air is too hot despite winter being near, while keeping an eye out for his friends. Nancy and Jonathan are talking to some people he doesn’t know in the kitchen, Robin is trying not to combust while she talks to her crush —her lab partner in biology— and Eddie is walking around the entire party with his lunchbox.

When Steve sees you again, you are people watching in the living room, eyes trained on a few people in the middle of the room. He moves to stand next to you, and you shift your gaze towards him but say nothing; Steve thinks it means it’s okay if you stand here. Your foot taps to the music –Tears for Fears’ Head Over Heels –and your head moves almost imperceptibly to the music. The two of you are quiet for a while, and it’s not awkward like Steve expected it to be, not after the way he messed up at the fair. He’s pleasantly surprised, and relaxes a bit more next to you, slouching slightly against the wall. One of your arms is crossed over your chest while your other elbow rests on it, a red cup in your hand. The music continues to play and your eyes are still trained on the people talking in the living room, they’re some old Hawkins High students Steve kind of recognizes. There’s Angela and Karen, Bradley and Peter and some other people he doesn’t know the names of. Steve leans his weigh on his right leg, which brings him closer to you.

You don’t move away, simply pass him your red cup. Steve moves to shake his head no and say he’s driving, but you speak up before he does. “It’s only soda.” You say and nod at the cup that Steve takes the cup from you shortly after.

“What’re you watching?” Steve asks.

“The only interesting thing that’s going to happen in this party I think.” You look at him finally and lean closer, Steve isn’t sure you’re aware of it. “I think there’s going to be a fight.”

Your eyes hold amusement in them, like you’re excited for what’s about to happen. The tiniest movement of your mouth has Steve glancing down, you’re grinning, barely; he thinks it’s cute.

Steve’s eyebrows raise, interest spiked, and is about to say something when you turn your head again. Bradley is saying something to Angela, his voice loud and slurred but incomprehensible over the music, and not a second later an equally intoxicated Peter swings a punch at him. Another girl, who Steve doesn’t know, confronts Angela they start arguing with Karen joining the fight. Bradley and Peter fall to the ground, wrestling each other while others try to break the fight.

“Wait isn’t she?” Steve’s mind catches up the everything that happened puts two and two together. He’s pretty Angela is dating Bradley, not Peter.

“Yup.” You say with a shrug, tilting your head. “It was all a matter of time before it happened.” It’s all you say, then chuckle. Steve does too, he can’t help himself at the sound of your own laughter, until the two of you are giggling at the fight in front of you.

The music changes then, to something more upbeat, and Steve’s mind can only think about asking you to dance. Would you say yes? Probably not. Before he can ask you though, you step away from the wall. More people have gathered in the living room to watch the fight, and you decide to make your way to the front door. Do crowds bother you? Steve wonders.

“Wait.” Steve goes after you and closes the door behind him. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Your back is turned to him. The cream-coloured sweater you wear over your lilac skirt and your black boots look lovely on you, and so does your hair. Steve doesn’t know why but he thinks it frames your face perfectly. There’s also a hint of remaining lip-gloss on your lips that shines with the streetlamp’s light… and Steve, well Steve thinks You’re so pretty.

“It’s cold, don’t tell me you’re going to walk.” Steve speaks again, shaking away his previous thoughts.

You shrug, “I usually do, it’s not too far.”

Steve doesn’t know where you live but he knows Rotner lives far away from almost everyone in Hawkins. Your house is probably far away. “I’ll drive you.”  Steve offers, but you sigh and look away.

“Go back to the party Steve, you can drive Robin home.” You say simply. “I’ll see you around.”

“No, she can go with Nancy.” He follows you until he’s walking next to you. “It’s not safe for you to walk home, come on.”

You sigh again and look up at the sky, annoyed. If you’re annoyed, then he’s too, because you’re making a dumb decision for the sake of being stubborn. And you probably don’t know that he’s stubborn too, so you might have to argue all night about whether this decision is right or not. Why is it so hard for you to accept a ride home? You offered him soda and were talking to him just now; it was nice. More than nice.

“I won't stop asking.” Steve says, crossing his arms and stepping in front of you.

Your eyes meet his in an intense half-glare, and Steve can’t help but think how nice your eyeliner looks on you. It does something to him he hasn’t felt in a while. He feels like he can’t breathe while heat creeps up the back of his neck —it’s October, he shouldn’t feel hot at all. A moment later you roll your eyes, though backing down first, and giving Steve some time to breathe as you turn around.

“Alright.”

Steve can’t help smiling in triumph, knowing he just won, and follows you as you walk towards his car further down the road. Amusement paints his eyes as he looks at you; your lips are pursed, and a huff escapes you.

 “You’re pouting” Steve says, looking at your lips and the annoyed look on your face. It makes him smile. You’re pouting.

“I’m not” You look sideways at him.  

“Oh, you are.”

“Shut up, Harrington.” You say and he laughs, opening the passenger’s door for you.

-------

From then on Steve does his best to increase his charm and be a gentleman. He offers you his help as well as rides home whenever he can, especially when you’re alone. The last thing he wants is for you to think that he’s only being nice when your common friends are around. Steve sees you more often now, not as much as he’d like, he must admit, but enough to know more about you. What you’re okay with sharing, more like.  

As he suspected from the party, you don’t like crowds (they make you nervous), and when Steve asked why you’d changed the topic. You work at the Deli on Main Street, have a younger brother named Chris, and you love coffee. He always sees you drinking one in the morning when he gives both you and Robin a ride to school, and whenever he stops by at the deli for lunch during your shift. Most important of all, Steve is starting to see what Robin meant when she said not to judge a book based on its cover. Because, despite your grumpy exterior, there’s a whole personality hidden underneath.

Steve can tell. There are hints and pieces; from the way you dress, to the music you like, and comic books you read and often exchange with Max. When he takes the time to look, he sees the gentleness with which you do things, and the care with which you treat your friends. He also sees your distrust for what it is: fear. You’re afraid, to let new people in, to get hurt, and Steve doesn’t know why.  

He wishes there was something he could do to fix it, to make you see the glass half full instead of half empty, or to change your sporadic pessimism.  But then he figures, he would be changing you, and that’s not something he wants. If he’s being honest, your friend group (Steve isn’t sure if he’s your friend, officially at least) needed someone with an objective outlook on life to set their heads straight. And if he’s honest with himself, he likes all the things that make you you. He likes your confidence when you don’t care what people think about you. He likes it when you fight with Robin over who chooses the music, despite it being his car. And he's pretty much obsessed with your face; the hard set of your jaw when you get impatient, the brow you silently arch that makes him feel things he shouldn’t, and the silent way you listen to conversation, only speaking up when you think it’s necessary. Steve is more than a bit obsessed.

He had been wrong that first day. He didn’t know you and wrongly assumed you weren’t happy to be there with them, when you actually were. He reflects upon it now that he knows your facial expressions; your eyebrows had been relaxed, and your eyes didn’t have a hard edge to them. You had been at ease, only closing yourself off when Steve tried to dig into your move to Hawkins. He really started off with the wrong foot, but it all takes a turn on a Friday night.

You visit FV for a tape mid-afternoon, surprising Steve at work. The weather is more than chilly outside, and Steve notices right away how you have no jacket on, only a dark red sweater. He’d been doing some paperwork behind the counter when the bell over the door for his attention. It rewarded him with the sight of you walking in, looking around before your eyes settle on him.

“Hey, Steve.” You say voice light as you approach him and lean your elbows on the counter. “Do you have karate kid available? My brother is begging us to watch it again tomorrow.”

Steve doesn’t know why but he struggles to speak for a moment —it probably has to do with the fact that you look very pretty, and two, this interaction is so different from your first one he shortcircuits. After a long pause you raise a questioning eyebrow, “You okay?”

Steve clears his throat. “Yeah. Um, we have it, let me go get it.”

“Thank you.” You nod as he dashes away from the counter.

“Did you walk here?” Steve asks once he’s cleared his head and reaches the action movie aisle. He sees you shrug over the stands.

“I usually do, I don’t mind it.” You explain simply.

“You’re not wearing a jacket though.” Steve grabs Karate Kid and goes back to the counter. Why are you always out in the cold without a jacket? It’s a miracle you haven’t fallen sick, he thinks.

“I left school in a rush, I was gonna be late for work.” You shrug again, eyes visibly lighting up when you spot the movie. “Thank God. Chris would have been insufferable if someone beat me to it.”

Steve crouches down behind the counter and retrieves his own jacket —a grey bomber— before placing it on the counter in front of you. “Here.”

“Steve,” You tell him seriously, rolling your eyes. “I’m not taking your jacket.”

“Why not? You’re the one walking out in the cold, I only have to walk towards my car.” He dismisses your refusal with a wave of his hand.

“Hey!” Robin says, calling your name as she emerges from the back room. “Perfect timing, I was going to call you.”

“Here to rent karate kid.” You tell her, a small smile on your face.

“And choosing hypothermia over my jacket.”  Steve chimes in, sliding his jacket pointedly towards you.

“It’s not that cold Steve.” You roll your eyes at him again, “But I know you’ll annoy me until I say yes.”

Steve gives you a triumphant smile and you shake your head, Steve would even say it’s shyly, before you take the jacket and shrug it on. “The movie? Please.”

Robin speaks up while Steve rings you up. “We’re gonna hang out at Nancy’s tonight. The kids will be there too, you should come.”

Steve risks a glance at you, in his jacket; a huge mistake. He seriously underestimated his reaction to seeing you in his clothes, because it is downright adorable and something he was unprepared for. The sleeves go past your hands and the whole thing is oversized on you, his shoulders being broader than yours and his torso longer. Steve bites back a smile —he hopes you never give it back to him; this is a sight he’d love to see more often.  He turns back to the computer to hide his grin from you and silently hopes you’ll say yes.

“Will there be other people?” You ask Robin, and Steve is quick to shake his head no and reassure you. Too quick.

“Just the usual gang.” Steve tells you, clearing his throat to hide his eagerness. “No one else.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Robin insists with a smile, then moves her gaze towards Steve, who tries to ignore the way she raises a knowing eyebrow at him. He’s gonna have an earful once you leave, he can bet on it.  

“Okay, I’ll be there.” You nod, then exchange some cash for the movie Steve hands to you. “Thank you, Steve.”

Steve leans his forearms on the counter, trying to give you his most charming smile to see if he’ll get one of those you give Robin in return. “We’ll pick you up after work.” Steve says and you look into his eyes for a long second before nodding.

“Sure.” You shrug, eyes shifting away from his. “I’ll see you guys later.”

------

At Nancy’s, chaos ensues. The kids argue over what board-game to play while Eddie and Robin argue over what record to play next. Steve is listening to Nancy and Jonathan talk about a volunteering drive she’s organizing and from where he stands, he can see you leaning against the wall next to Robin. Your face is neutral as you listen to the record that’s currently playing, tuning out Eddie’s argument for the most part until you speak up.

“Or you can let me choose?” You ask calmly, glancing at them briefly before going back to looking down at your feet.

“No!” Both Eddie and Robin say at the same time, and Steve notices the corner of your mouth twitch upwards.

“You chose this one, buttercup.” Eddie says with a sigh. “You’re only gonna choose one to annoy us.”

This earns Eddie an eye roll. “How exactly do you know that?” You ask. “It could’ve been a great pick, now you’ll never know Munson.”

Steve tries to tune back into Nancy’s explanation when Max pushes the board game she wanted to play away with a huff. It clatters to the ground as she stands from her place in front of the coffee table. You spot her and call her name only a moment later.  

“Hey Max, I got the new Wonder Woman!” You say after a moment when the read-head stops glaring daggers at the boys. 

Her eyes light up, a dramatic change from the look in her eyes moments ago. “Really? Can I see it?”

“‘Course, I brought it for you.” You roll your eyes, this time full of fondness, and nod towards the kitchen. “It’s in my bag.”

 Steve can’t follow your conversation because the doorbell rings, signalling the pizza Nancy ordered arrived. The weather feels much colder than earlier as he opens the door and steps outside, he pays for the pizza, tips the delivery guy and goes back inside. Arms full of pizza boxes, he walks back to the dining table, shooting a pointed look at Dustin and Mike. “Zip it or you don’t get a single slice.”

The high schoolers move more discarded boardgames away from the table in a heartbeat, scrambling to undo their mess and opening the pizza boxes in a hurry. Steve spots you still standing in the kitchen talking to Max as everyone helps themselves to pizza and decides to let you both know the food is ready.

“So, you skate too?” Max is asking you excitedly, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter.

You chuckle — it hits Steve in the chest and Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. “I do,” You grin, “I mean I used to when I lived in Indianapolis, but I haven’t since I moved here.”

“We can go to the skate-park tomorrow.” Max proposes raising her eyebrows, “If you want.”

You nod, “Sure. I’ll look for my skateboard tonight, let’s hope I still remember how to use it.”

“Pizza’s here.” Steve says, interrupting and smiling at you both. When your eyes meet his, your lips move to smile but in a matter of seconds you stop yourself.

It makes Steve furrow his brows and walk over to you as Max leaves to grab a slice. “You okay?” Steve asks, and your eyes meet his again briefly before they dart away as you sidestep him.

You make your way to the front door in a rush, this time though you do grab your jacket—his jacket— on the way. Just like he did the night of the party, Steve follows you, worried and confused at your reaction. Robin glances at him from the dining table, an unspoken question in her eyes but Steve can only shrug. He is certain he didn’t do anything wrong just now, but somehow, he messed up because you just fled from him.

“Stop.” Steve says after calling your name. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I just need some air. You should go back inside Steve.” Your back is to him, shoulders tense and close to your ears defensively.

“No,” He shakes his head. His lips go down into a frown briefly as he looks at your back. He voices the question he always asks himself when you shut him down. “Did I do something?”

“No.” You say when you turn, eyebrows meeting in the middle as you glare at him but Steve sees the way you struggle to hold it in place. After a second it falls, and your face just crumples to exhausted look. “I want to be alone.” You whisper.

 “You think a glare and a pout are intimidating enough to drive me away?” Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t pout.” You say, lips pursed and jaw tense. Pouting.

“You do and it’s not working.”  

You change tactics then, raising an eyebrow and staring him down like the night at the party but Steve shakes his head. “That’s not working either.”

“Why are you insisting so much on this!” You finally ask, raising your voice and crossing your arms in front of you. Your jaw clenches as you look away and Steve sees your eyes squeeze shut.

He runs a hand down his face and breathes out. “Whether you like it or not there are people who want to get to know you.”

“What, like you?” Your eyes cut a suspicious look Steve’s way and he can see your walls come back up right in front of him. A tear falls down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away, harshly. “Why?”

Steve throws his hands up in the air, exasperated but not raising his voice, “To be your friend! Just like Robin and Eddie are your friends.” His shoulders move up and down, trying to cover up how much he likes you and looks forward to your company. “Why are you so distrustful, is it something I did?”

“It’s not about you, Steve.” Your eyebrows meet in the middle again, and you look away from him, directing your gaze to the snow-covered lawn. “If… If it bothers you so much, why do you even want to be my friend? Because you’re wrong Steve. No one else does, and I’m more than fine with that.”

Steve shakes his head, knowing you’re lying to him and trying to convince yourself. His voice softens. “Because despite it, I like you, I think you’re… cool.”

“Cool?” The way you raise your eyebrows makes Steve chuckle.

Funny, caring, fucking beautiful, Steve wants to say but he just nods his head at your question.

“Yeah, and you’re interesting, and I… want to be your friend.” Steve’s hands settle on his hips as he shifts his weigh to one leg, looking down to the ground. Glancing at you briefly, he drops his voice to whisper your name. “Don’t leave. I’m not lying… that’s what worries you right?”

Steve assumes that’s where your distrust comes from; you told him it wasn’t something he did, then it must be that you’re scared to trust him. He’s known there are many feelings behind your hard exterior, one of them being fear. Steve doesn’t want you to fear him, and he wonders who broke your trust in the past. Silence settles between the two of you; you seem to be going over his words and Steve is giving you the time to do so. He’d wait an hour if necessary and reassure you a thousand times if it would mean you believe him. Steve panics when he sees you swallow hard and shift your eyes at the sky, the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry.

But you don’t cry. Instead, you take a deep breath and look into his eyes. There’s a vulnerability there that awakens an urge in Steve to hug you. “You promise?” Your voice is a whisper, but he hears you clear as day. You’ve never spoken so softly before, and Steve wishes it could have happened under other circumstances.

Steve looks into your eyes and nods with sincerity, hoping you can see he’s being completely honest with you. “Yes.”

“I do like you, Steve. You just scare me.” You look down at the ground for a moment and nod to yourself as Steve’s eyebrows shoot hop in surprise. A moment later, your eyes drift back to Steve and there are emotions dancing around in them he’s never seen before. “I’m sorry.”

Steve nods and something inside him tightens when you offer a small smile. It’s like something shifts between the two of you despite neither of you moving. In a matter of seconds, everything feels easy, natural, like the brief moment your shared at the party in October. Steve realizes it’s because you’ve let your guard down; you stand differently in front of him, more comfortable, less apprehensive. You scare me. “You wanna tell me why?”

You press your lips together and shake your head. “Another time, maybe?”

Steve tries to hold back a smile, but he can’t, it takes over his entire face. When he sees you shiver, he offers his hand. “Let’s go back inside, or I can drive you home if you want to leave.”

“I can stay a bit longer.” You say when you grab his hand –an electric shock goes up his arm. “I really want some pizza. But if they play Monopoly I’m definitely leaving.”

Steve’s laughter follows you as he leads the two of you back to the house.

--

The coffee cup Steve places in front of you at work the next Monday lands with a soft thud on the counter. It’s black coffee with some milk and sugar; the way Steve’s learned you take it every day. The sound and his presence make you look up at him over the top of your book, a doubtful eyebrow raised and a serious look on your face. Fuck your pretty, Steve thinks. Your eyes shift from the coffee to his face a couple of times before you close your book.

“What’s this?” You ask, leaning back on your seat and tilting your head.

Steve leans his elbows on the counter in front of you and tilts his head right back. “Considering you drink around 5 of these a day, one would think you’ll know what it is.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re mistaken. I actually drink 10.” You deadpan, looking at him with fake disappointment. “I thought you knew me, now that we’re friends and all.”

Steve laughs, looks down and shakes his head. When he looks at you again, there’s a half smile on your face. “Come on.” He says. “Let’s go grab some food.”

“I literally work at a deli, Steve.” You tell Steve seriously, motioning to your surroundings. “We’re surrounded by food.”

Steve copies what you just said with a roll of his eyes and smiles again. “I mean something else, babe. Come on.”

With a sigh you stand up from your seat and round the counter, leaving your apron behind. “You’re lucky I get a break in a couple of minutes.” You tell Steve before yelling over your shoulder. “Hank I’ll be back!”

Steve’s eyes light up and he considers his visit a triumph. He’s becoming surer and surer his feelings for you go beyond friendship and fondness and lean more towards: I want to hold your hand all the time, and cuddle you while we watch movies then forget about the movie and get lost on you. He wants to put his arm around your shoulder freely, have you lean your weigh against him and steal a kiss, probably more than one. No. It won’t ever happen so Steve shouldn’t even be thinking about it. He opens the passenger’s door to his car for you and smiles when you get in, your coffee in your hand.

It becomes a routine of sorts, either you visit him at Family Video bringing sandwiches for him and Robin or he picks you up, a coffee waiting for you in his car and drives you wherever feels right that day to eat your lunch. You talk about your day, or whatever gossip you heard that day. One day you even confessed to be scared about graduation.

“Everyone is so excited to finish school, and here I am so terrified about the future I haven’t opened any of my college application letters.” You muttered, picking at a loose thread on your sweater.

“Why are you scared?” Steve asked you and you swallow hard.

You turned your body on your seat, facing him as you shrugged. “I feel lost, I don’t know what I should major in. I also don’t know where I’d like to go, and I can't even research these colleges without panic settling on my chest.” Your eyebrows furrowed and your jaw got tense and Steve knew that meant you felt angry and this time it was at yourself.

Steve took your hand without a second thought, but you let him. “You know, you don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

“It feels like it.” You whispered looking at him, frustration and embarrassment shining in your eyes.  “Everyone else has it figured out.”

Steve shook his head; you shouldn’t feel embarrassed with him. “If there’s something I’ve learned about you, is that you don’t care about what other people are doing. What do you want?”

“I ask myself that question every day.” You mirrored his head shake and looked away. “Let’s talk about something else. Please?”

Steve was happy to change the subject, anything to cheer you up. By the time you go back to the Deli to continue your shift, he realized it was the first personal thing you’ve told him. Ever. It made him happier than he cared to admit.

-----

Two months after your talk in Nancy’s driveway, you invite Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Jonathan and Steve to your house. It’s the first time you’ve let anyone other than Robin into your home, this time for movie night. Your father and brother went back to Indianapolis to pick up other stuff from your old house, you said, it’s perfect timing. Steve and Robin arrive together, and shortly afterwards Eddie’s knocking on the door.

 Your house is cozy and simply decorated with a forest green comfy looking couch, a dark brown coffee table and a TV in the living room and all the basic stuff in both the dining room and kitchen.  There’s a record playing somewhere, and Steve can’t help the smile that comes to his face when he sees the way you’re mouthing the words as you move back and for the between the kitchen and living room bringing snacks, drinks and pizza for everyone. You’re wearing a cream-coloured sweater he recognizes from the party back in October and something funny happens in his stomach when he realizes just how far your friendship’s evolved since then.

“Babe come on take a break, we can help.” Steve stops you from going back to the kitchen with a hand on your shoulder and a fond look on his face.

You open your mouth to say something when Eddie and Robin appear on either side of you, presenting the movies they –surprisingly– were in charge to pick. “The best horror movies.” They say in unison.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you take the three VHS tapes from them. “Oh. Um, great! Thank you.” Your reaction hides behind the grin you shoot both, who nod and disappear to the kitchen.

“You’re pouting.” Steve says stepping closer to you again in the living room; your eyes that were fixed on the VHS tapes drift upwards to meet his own. Steve smiles.

“I’m not pouting.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes, lips settling back into a pout as you scan the titles of the movies once more. “These are just scary.”

“You’re still pouting.” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret. His eyes drift down to your lips, a mistake that has him swallowing hard, before the doorbell rings, signalling Johnathan and Nancy arrived. He’s quick to turn and go let them in. It’s a perfectly timed distraction. He shouldn’t think about kissing you, because despite no matter how badly he wants to, you’d never let it happen, or feel the same way he does to let it happen.  “Just saying!”

Once the first movie plays, Eddie and Robin settle on one end of the couch, while Nancy and Johnathan sit on the floor in front of them. Steve shoots Robin a I know what you’re doing look before sitting next to her and feeling the couch dip under your weigh when you settle on the empty seat next to him. A sweet floral scent he now recognizes as your shampoo or your perfume reaches him and Steve actively decides to focus on the movie, not the way he wants to pull you over his lap and breathe you in. Eddie and Robin laugh every now and then and the four of you turn to look at them, there’s nothing funny about the movie. You begin covering your face with the bucket of popcorn as the movie progresses, your face grimacing as the suspenseful music picks up.

Steve leans closer to you, his voice a whisper as he speaks. “It’s just special effects don’t worry about it.” You turn to look at him, worried puppy dog eyes gazing into him and dammit you make it so hard to keep his distance. “Trust me.” Steve winks, lightening the mood only to jump and scream when he turns to the movie once more and a jump scare comes on.

It seems like the perfect medicine for your fear. For you forget about it and lean your head back laughing, a full-on belly laugh, that’s so contagious and beautiful Steve laughs with you. Nancy and Robin share a knowing look he doesn’t notice before they shush the two of you, shoving at his elbow and your knee. You cover your mouth with your hand and your shoulders shake as you lean your head on Steve’s shoulder, turning your body towards his; Steve’s never been so happy to be scared in his life.

Everyone leaves after 3 movies. Robin gets a ride with Eddie, and Nancy leaves with Jonathan as well. Steve though, stays behind insisting on helping you clean up, but it’s a weak excuse to check on you before he leaves. He noticed you getting nervous, fidgeting with your hands anxiously when everyone started to leave. The films were long done, so Steve knows something else is worrying you and it doesn’t sit well in his heart to leave you like this. Which is why he is currently picking up trash in the living room while you do the same in the kitchen.

You’re finishing placing the dirty dishes in the sink when Steve enters the room. He noticed right away the way your shoulders hunch and you take a deep breath. “Steve…”

“You okay?” Steve closes the trash bag and moves to the sink. His eyes roam your face as he looks sideways at you and washes his hands.

“I um… I wanted to apologize to you.” You tell him quietly, passing him a kitchen towel before moving away from the sink. “For how closed-off I was when you met me.”

After drying his hands quickly, Steve turns and leans on the edge of the sink. “It’s okay, it’s not easy to trust new people right away.” He reassures you –it’s something he understands now; he understands you.

You sit on the counter opposite to him and stare at the floor for a bit, polka dot sock clad feet dangling in the air. “It’s more than that. I’m just scared of getting close to people since…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Steve shakes his head, keeping his eyes on your face.

“I trust you, Steve.”

Those four words make Steve’s chest flutter –relief, happiness, nerves– but he pushes the feeling to the back of his mind and patiently waits for you to continue. Your lips are pursed as you stare at the floor, gathering your thoughts.

“My mom…” You swallow, getting chocked up with those to words but soldiering on. With a shake of your head, you look up to the ceiling and will your tears away. “My mom left my dad, brother and I last April. She’d been cheating on dad for years… and that’s not even the worst part.”

You wipe your eyes quickly, lips pulled downwards into a deep frown when you pause again –an upside-down U Steve wishes he could smooth out with his thumb. But he stays where he stands and lets you continue.

“The other man was married too” Your eyes find Steve’s and where there’s usually a spark –like that night at the party– there’s only sadness directed at the memory. “He’s the father of a popular kid at my old high school, so you can guess what happened when everyone found out.”

Steve’s mouths opens again and this time a soft no escapes him.

You press your lips together and nod, “So not only did the news wreck our home… they made life at school unbearable for my brother and I. People who I thought were my friends just threw me away as if I was trash for something I didn’t do. Something I had no fault in.”

“Is that why you moved here?” Steve asks softly, walking closer to you. The answer to the question he asked many months ago, right in front of him and it doesn’t make him feel any satisfaction. No, it hurts him to know this. Moving away from everything you’ve known and starting over again during senior year sounds brutal.

“Yes.” You whisper and close your eyes briefly; more tears fall down your cheeks and Steve’s heart aches. Teary eyes move away from his and fix themselves on the kitchen window instead, your lips are pressed so hard against each other they’re losing colour. “She packed her bags right after school the day we found out. We saw her leave with that man, no other explanation, not even a goodbye or a note. Everyone except my dad and my brother decided to leave me that day.”

A sob escapes you then, finally breaking free and shaking your whole body; another one replaces it once it stops. Your hands move from the counter to your face, covering it as cries continue to escape you in succession. Steve wastes no time and walks to stand in front of you; he hates seeing you in so much pain. God, it must have hurt so much, just being left behind like that. His hands move to your hips and gently urge you to hop off the counter before he wraps you up in his arms. His shoulders shake with the force of your sobs as you cling to him.

“Stevie.” Your hands are bunched up in the back of his polo, holding onto him like a lifeline.

Steve can’t even relish the sound of your calling him Stevie so softly. He swallows hard as he witnesses the pain, you have felt inside of you for so long. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.

“She left us, Steve. She just disappeared and left us grieving her despite her being alive.” You say between your tears, they soak the right side of his shirt, but Steve couldn’t care less, his arms just tighten around your waist. “She’d been pushing us away for years, treating us like garbage and now I can see it’s because we weren’t good enough for her anymore. She didn’t love any of us anymore. We… we didn’t make her happy.”

Your voice sounds hoarse from crying, and your hands tighten behind Steve’s back. When you bury your face in his chest, Steve hunches his shoulders and forms a cocoon to protect you from the past. His protective nature takes over as he holds you flush against him; his hand moves up and down your back firmly –you need to know he’s there, that he’s got you. Steve puts his cheek over your head and whispers his next words. “I’ve got you; you can cry as much as you need to, I’m not going anywhere.”

It takes a few minutes, but your sobs soon transform into soft sniffles even as you press yourself closer to him. Steve doesn’t want to upset you anymore, but he’s itching to comfort you and let you know what he wishes someone had told him years ago. “I know my own shit experience with my parents isn’t the same as what you went through.” He starts, taking a small step back so he can look at you.

His fingers take a gentle hold of your face until puffy and teary eyes meet his; Steve wipes away some stray tears. “But what your mom did to you doesn’t say anything about you alright? You’re more than good enough for anyone. If she didn’t see that, then she made the worst mistake of her life.”

You close your eyes at his words and look away, but Steve shakes his head and urges you to face him again with a whisper of your name. “You don’t have to prove your worth to anyone because your mother left. All of us see it, and we’re so lucky to have you here.”

Steve’s thumb catches more tears as your lips begins to tremble again. “I’m so fucking lucky that you trust me, and I understand why you didn’t at first, okay? I understand you.”

Your hands on his waist tighten again as your forehead drops to his right shoulder. “I didn’t used to be like this… I’m sorry that this is the me that you met.”

Steve shakes his head, sure that you feel it when he does, and pulls you flush to his chest again. Is this how you’ve felt since last summer? He wonders. Like this version of yourself is wrong or unlikable.

Sure, you’re not a smiley person, but that makes your rare smiles even more special –and they drive Steve crazy. You see the glass half-empty most times to protect yourself if things do indeed go to shit, but you also recognize genuine goodness. You don’t hesitate to encourage or celebrate everyone else’s happiness; he’s seen it firsthand, with the kids, with Robin and even himself. Steve doesn’t think he could ever get tired of your dark humour or that pretty pout that settles on your lips when you get annoyed, not to mention that making you laugh is his favorite thing in the world. Steve understands your anxiety and panic at your college decision, you don’t want another change; you don’t want to choose something you don’t like and face another disappointment again. Most of all, Steve finally understands your hesitance and the root of your gruff exterior, and he wouldn’t change a thing about it. He’s stupid in love with you; your grumpy and soft looks; your frowns and your smiles; your heart; and that tender way you’re holding onto him right now.

Steve places a kiss to the side of your head to keep himself from saying all of this out loud –it’s not the right time, not yet. Instead, he whispers above your ear, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

For a moment, stillness surrounds the two of you in the kitchen and there’s no other sound but your quiet sniffles against Steve’s shirt again. Steve doesn’t mind, he’s happy to hold you for as long as you need, which ends up being five more minutes. You take a step back and look at him with those pretty eyes of yours; they’re teary and red-rimmed but lovely all the same.

“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips until your gaze drops to his shirt and embarrassment shines in your eyes. “Sorry I cried all over you.”

“I don’t mind.” Steve shrugs and looks at you softly, hands still on your waist. “I think I know what we should do.”

You look at him curiously. “About what?”

“To cheer you up.”

The head shake you give him is immediate, just as he imagined. “I don’t–”

“You deserve a happy life.” Steve states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and sends a wink your way hoping to amuse you. “And I think, ice cream is a good way to start. I should know, I worked at an ice cream shop remember.”

He leaves your side and walks over to the freezer to grab the ice cream he saw earlier that night when he got up mid-movie to get more ice. It’s cookie dough ice cream, which he knows to be your favourite –he’s known since that first night he met you. Knowing he’s completely serious now, your eyes stare into his eyes for a moment before you turn and grab two spoons from a kitchen drawer.

“I guess we’re having ice cream then. Considering you’re an expert.” You say with an eye roll Steve can only describe as fond when you approach him again. A moment later, you sit on the counter and Steve follows suit, sitting next to you. “Spoon?”

“Thank you.” Steve says and takes it from you after opening the ice cream tub. He offers the tub to you first, letting you scoop some ice cream with your spoon which you pop in your mouth. Your arms brush from how close you’re sitting, and Steve has to lean forward to look at you, but he doesn’t mind. He’s happy with the proximity.

A sigh escapes you and you close your eyes as you savour the ice cream. Steve feels heat creep up the back of his neck at the sound, but he shakes the feeling off; you’re only eating ice cream, to make you feel better. “You were right Harrington, this is like medicine.”

“Told you, I’m an expert.” Steve chuckles and eats his own spoonful, the creamy ice cream melting in his tongue before he laughs as you search for the cookie dough in the tub. “This is going to be just plain vanilla ice cream if you keep doing that.”

“Finders keepers.” You tell him with a shrug as you bring the cookie dough to your mouth. “It’s arguably the best part of this ice cream.”

“You’re supposed to eat the ice cream with it!” Steve argues, holding the tub away from your reach. “I want cookie dough too you know.”

You roll your eyes at him, but there’s a soft look on your face as you look at him and nod. The two of you go back to eating ice cream in silence until Steve speaks up again. There are so many things he wants to know about you still –he thinks he’ll always want to know more. “What’s something you miss from living in Indianapolis?”

You pause mid-scoop and concentrate for a few moments going over his question. A moment later a tiny smile makes its way to your lips. “There used to be a wonderful campsite my dad used to take my brother and I; we’d camp for three days and do all sort of activities.”

Steve smiles. “Like what?”

“Dad and Chris love fishing, so we’d do that. There was also hiking, swimming, s’mores. Oh! We’d all tell each other stories sitting next to the fire. They were all completely made up of course, and I think the more ridiculous they were, the more fun we had.”

Your eyes wander around the kitchen, like you’re back in the forest with your family and not next to Steve anymore. Light dances in your eyes and Steve can almost picture the three of you laughing around the fire as the catch of the day roasts on a grill nearby. He knows better than to ask about your mother, he’s got a pretty good idea what the answer would be. Besides, you’ve cried enough already, so much that Steve’s own heart feels bruised from seeing you in pain.

“You haven’t camped here in Hawkins?” Steve asks after a minute, voice quiet to avoid disturbing your memory.

You shake your head and sigh, the mirage in front of you disappearing as your eyes drift back to Steve’s. “Dad’s not the same person he was during those camping trips… he hasn’t scouted a good place for us to go. I don’t think he even wants to go camping anymore.”

Steve puts the ice cream tub on the counter and takes your hand instead. “Maybe we could go camping someday, invite everyone, have fun…”

Your head moves to rest on his shoulder, the dizzying smell of your shampoo and perfume reaching Steve’s nose at the proximity. He leans his cheek on top of your head and feels the faint nod you give him. “Maybe.”

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, your hand still in Steve’s grasp. Until he gives it a squeeze that makes you jump, as if you forgot you were holding hands in the first place. Steve chuckles. “What?”

Your head leaves his shoulder in an instant and for a second Steve is sure you’re going to hide behind your walls again, like you did so many months ago. His fear though, is replaced with concern when you hop off the counter and check the time with a frown.

“Babe come on, what’s going on?” He hops off the counter and stands in front of you. His eyes search yours until finally your gaze meets his, your embarrassment clear in them.

“I just hate being home alone at night. It makes me anxious.” Your hands fidget in front of you, as if you’re waiting for Steve to laugh at you. Oh, so that’s why you were nervous earlier. “I can’t sleep. At all.”

He looks down at his watch and sees that it’s midnight already. “I don’t mind staying over.” Bringing his eyes back to yours, he speaks up again. “Would that make you feel better?”

You close your eyes and let out a shaky exhale before you nod. “A lot better.” When your eyes open again, they’re full of gratefulness and surprise, as if Steve wouldn’t do anything for you.

 A smile grows on Steve’s face, and he takes your hand before you can thank him, threading your fingers together as he speaks. “Come on, you’re probably tired.”

Steve, however, is everything but tired. His heart is racing at the thought of spending the night here with you. You’ve never spent so much time together in a day, he’s never seen your bedroom, and there’s something about this impromptu sleepover that makes heat creep up the back of his neck. No. He’s here to give you emotional support; you were so anxious earlier and there’s nothing he wants more than to see you happy and comfortable. If staying here, despite it sending his feelings into a frenzy, is the key for you to rest then so be it. He can stay for one night.

You don’t let go of his hand as you lead him upstairs, passing various pictures of you and your family that hang from the wall opposite the handrail. There are three bedrooms upstairs and yours is the last one down the hall, its view towards the backyard. You open the door a moment later and let go of his hand as you step inside. Now that he’s here, Steve remembers neither of you made sure the doors were locked downstairs. He should do that.

“I’m going to take a shower.” You tell him as you walk towards your dresser.

Steve nods and swallows hard, using the excuse of your safety to be downstairs while that happens. “We forgot to lock everything downstairs. I’ll go do that.”

“Oh, right.” You press your palm to your forehead; Steve can see you reprimand yourself. “Thank you, Steve.”

“No problem.” Steve is quick to shake his head as he takes a step back from the room. “I’ll be right back.”

Once Steve is back downstairs, he makes sure to check the windows and lock the front door. He fiddles with the light switches for a while before he finds the right ones and turns the lights off. The whole process takes him less than five minutes, and the shower is still running when he’s back in your room. With a deep breath he finally looks around, gazing through a metaphorical window into your world, which he surprisingly already knew a lot of. The pastel walls make him smile, and he walks along the furthermost wall where various posters have been hung –all bands and singers Robin and you have played in his car. There’s a small vanity by the closet next to the bathroom, full of tiny bottles and a couple of lip-gloss tubes. Steve also spots a purple bottle of perfume on top, and a grin makes its way to his face –that’s the one that drives him crazy, he’s sure of it. He’s about to move closer and look at the pictures you’ve pasted in the vanity’s mirror, but he’s startled to a stop when you speak.

“I left a shirt for you to sleep in, if you want it.” You say and Steve turns around.

His heart summersaults when he sees you, fresh dewy face, hair out of your face, an oversized grey t-shirt with a pink Queen logo on the front and pink cotton sleeping pants. The overhead light of the bathroom makes a small rectangle in the carpeted floor, and some steam from your shower still circles around behind you. It takes all Steve’s self-control to stay where he is and not walk up to you and pull you into his arms; no tears between you this time, just Steve holding you the way he wishes he could all the time. He looks at the t-shirt you left on your bed to distract himself and laughs when he notices the colour.

“How’d you guess I love pink?” Steve asks you, glancing your way as he walks towards the bed and holds up the t-shirt. It’s very oversized like yours, and it has a black and fuchsia print of Blondie’s lead singer on it.

“Dunno, just thought it would suit you.” you chuckle, and Steve sees you hold back a smile as you point towards the bathroom. “There’s a spare toothbrush on the sink.”

Steve nods and hurries to the bathroom, lest you notice him blushing. He finds the toothbrush instantly and proceeds to brush his teeth, and though he doesn’t know why, Steve feels extremely happy to know both of you use the same toothpaste. He glances around and looks at all the details that are entirely yours around the room. There are some facial creams on a shelf next to the mirror, a vanilla scented hand soap on the sink, and a look towards the shower shows him two purple and pink shampoo and conditioner bottles –the ones that make your hair smell like flowers. Steve rinses his mouth, then takes off his sweater and jeans before he puts on the pink t-shirt you gave him and, like a freak, smells it to find that somehow your scent still lingers in the soft cotton.

If he was panicking before, he’s panicking even more now. He’s obsessed with you, he realizes, stupidly head over the heels and all of this is making it worse; lying on a bed next to you will make it so much worse. He’s got to pull himself together. He’s doing this because of fear of being home alone, that’s all. He can sleep alongside you for a night without making a fool of himself –or worse, accidentally confess his feelings. So, pushing all bed related thoughts to the back of his mind, he walks out of the bathroom to find you already under your duvet in bed.

 Not letting himself think too much about it, Steve turns off the lamp on your nightstand and slips under the duvet too. He keeps his body still, tense more accurately, as he lies next to you. That is until you turn to face him, and he immediately does too, like a magnet naturally attracted to you.

“Do you ever fear that you’ll wake up one day and everyone you know will be gone?” you whisper in the dark; your voice is almost silent, but Steve hears you loud and clear with how close he is to you. The minty smell of your toothpaste mingles with his own breath. Is this how things are going to be between you now, deep conversations and secrets you only trust to each other? He really hopes so.

Steve shakes his head, trying to make out your face in the dark as his heart constricts in his chest. “No,” he says just as quietly, “But sometimes I’m afraid that something terrible will happen and I won’t be able to help.”

Steve closes his eyes and exhales through his nose as he voices one of his fears for the first time. He’s sure that everything that happened in the Upside Down that they managed to fix was thanks to the brains in his friend group. Steve is all physical strength, which has proved useful in the past, but against monsters or whatever the hell could come next, he’s not sure it will be enough. The thought of being useless like that and everyone suffering because of it terrifies him. Even more now that you’re a part of said friend group. He’s sure of one thing though, he’d protect you and all his friends no matter what.

Your hand slowly moves to his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Knowing you, Steve, I’m a thousand percent sure you’d find a way to help. Your stubbornness can be a good thing.”

A breathy chuckle leaves him as your words punch the air out of him. He’s silent for a moment, scrambling for something reassuring to say back. Words aren’t his forte, not unless he’s flirting. He’d rather pull you close to him and comfort you that way, the way he did in the kitchen. “You know… if we were to disappear for whatever reason, you can bet I’d fight my way to you. You won’t be alone.”

Steve sees you nod your head in the dark, his only sign that you haven’t fallen asleep yet. Your hand goes back to your side, in front of his before you stifle a yawn. Assuming your eyes are tired from all their crying, Steve moves his hand to cup your cheek gently.

“Go to sleep, you need to rest.” He whispers; he wants to give you more comfort, pull you close and rub your back until you fall asleep. He doesn’t because he can’t, that would make things weird.

“Thank you for staying with me.” You whisper back.

Remaining silent to avoid saying something that’d give away just how deep his feelings for you run, or the fact that the opportunity to be lying here next to you is something he should be thankful for, he only rubs his thumb softly on your cheek once more before letting go. With another yawn you turn around, your back facing Steve as you whisper goodnight.

Steve doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but he knows he sleeps more peacefully than he has in a while. Not that he doesn’t sleep well often, but most days his dreamless sleep is a result of the exhaustion of the day and not peacefulness. Last night though, there were no nightmares, no tossing and turning, just a distant dream of a campfire in the woods, fireflies, and a silhouette standing peacefully by the water. At some point, early in the morning, he finds himself waking to the light sneaking into the room from a small gap in the tulle curtains. His eyes that were too sleepy to open, blink awake at the awareness that you’re in his arms. Lovely floral scent and cozy softness pressed to him.

It seems that during the night, you’d shifted to your side and burrowed yourself on his chest, an arm around his waist and leg thrown over his hip. His left arm is around you, settled between your shoulder blades, holding you to him. He lifts it and checks his watch, barely 6am but Steve knows he should go. The last thing he wants is your father getting back home and finding him in your bed. Steve doesn’t know him and that’s not the first impression he’s looking for. Besides, there’s a pressing problem in his briefs, that has appeared from being tangled up with you, that he needs to hide in his jeans before you notice. Shifting his hips way from you he looks down at your sleeping face, brushing hair away from your face before he whispers your name.

“Hmm,” You frown, eyes still closed. “What?”

“You’re a cuddler,” Steve says as he smiles; it’s something that should surprise him, but it doesn’t. Not at all.

“I’m not.” You mumble and, contradicting yourself, press closer to him.   

“Yes, you are.” He chuckles, shifting his hips backwards again. “I have to go.”

You frown but move away from him, turning and facing away. “Why?”

Steve slips from bed and puts his jeans back on, adjust himself, before pulling his sweater over his head and on top of the pink t-shirt. Call him a lovestruck fool, but he’s not giving it back. “I don’t know when your dad’s gonna be back, I don’t want him to find a boy he doesn’t know in your bed.”

You chuckle, then yawn as you shift and sit up in bed. Steve stares at you longer than he should. His eyes take in your messy hair and your still puffy eyes from all your crying the night before. He smiles widely.

“I have drool on my face, don’t I?” You sigh, moving the back of your hand to the corner of your mouth.

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “No, you don’t; you look pretty that’s all.”

His words reward him with an eyeroll and a headshake before you stand up. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

You remain silent as the two of you walk side by side all the way down to the front door. Steve takes his car keys, and you move to open the door, but pause after a moment. Steve’s eyes look into yours as he wonders if there’s something wrong but when your eyes shift up to him, a small smile settles on your lips. Next thing Steve knows, your arms go around him in a hug.

He can’t help but sigh at the feeling and leaning his cheek on top of your head. “You okay?”

You nod and look up at him. “Thank you, Steve.” You say, stepping on the tip of your toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t thank me.” Steve smiles, letting his arms fall to his sides as his heart skips several beats. “Wanna get a coffee later?”

Is he bribing you with caffeine just to see you again? Of course, he is. Steve is charming, and he has a lot of work to do if he wants to make a move soon.

“Only if I get to pay.” You raise an eyebrow but smile nonetheless, that rare big smile he loves.

Steve huffs and opens the door. “Sure, babe.” He says though he knows you don’t believe him.

He walks to his car when you nod –heart pounding– and smiles as he drives away. Your figure on the rear-view mirror watches him leave until he turns at the end of the driveway. Steve leans his elbow on the door, his hand settling over his mouth as he thinks about the events of last night and this morning. Hope fills his chest, and Steve feels like this is the beginning of something really good for both of you.

 ---

There’s a small shift in your dynamic after that late night conversation in your kitchen. It’s like almost as if it brought you both closer: like a barrier breaking between you and Steve. Steve knows he should take it slow, that he should better conceal his feelings to avoid scaring you off. But another part of Steve wants to throw caution to the wind because there’s been a change in you too. I trust you, Steve, you’d said, and it shows. In the way you sit closer to him, how you give away more pieces of your past and yourself when you talk. There’s less apprehension and more curiosity from both of you and Steve can’t help but fall and fall and fall. He only hopes it doesn’t end up with him crashing down painfully.

The two of you make a new habit of visiting a small the café on the weekends; you sitting sideways on the couch and Steve talking nonsense to make you laugh. It starts the day after the sleepover, and the two of you use it as time to catch up on the events of the week. It delights him; every Saturday, he wants nothing more than to lean close and kiss your smile, the one he never thought he’d be at the receiving end of. You have bad days too, days in which Steve knows you’ve been crying, days where all you want to do is sit in silence with him. Steve doesn’t mind, at all, in fact he loves all your mood equally and now that he knows the backstory of what you went through, he offers you the quiet reassurance of his presence next to you, so you know you’re not alone.

Weeks pass like this, until winter leaves and spring comes. Overnight, the breeze has no bite to it anymore, the flowers bloom again and you begin to wear the prettiest floral dresses that give Steve a whole new reason to be obsessed with you.

“You two are adorable; when are you going to tell her, dingus?”

Steve and Robin had stopped by the Deli to get something to eat during their lunch break while you were on your lunch break too. The three of you had spent the 30 minutes talking between bites of your own sandwiches until the moment Steve had to drive away and you had to go back to your shift. He hears Robins words but his eyes follow your retreating figure until you’re out of sight –his mind is begging him to find you and steal a kiss just so he doesn’t go crazy. Robin snaps her fingers in front of his face and laughs when Steve startles. He rolls his eyes and gets in the car while Robin asks him the same question again.

Steve rolls his eyes again, “Tell her what?”

“That you’re obsessed with her dummy!” Robin hits his arm, Steve sends her an annoyed look, “You love her come on, you have to tell her.”

“No, I can’t.” He’s been thinking about it more often now. Keeping it to himself has been almost impossible lately and he knows he should do it before he breaks.

“Yes, you can, and you have to.” Robin asserts, setting her converse on the dashboard. “She clearly feels the same way.”

“She doesn’t.” Steve’s answer is instant as he focuses on the road and getting back to FV, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard they turn white. It’s a half-lie, and they both know it.

“She does and you know it.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin shake her head.  “The way she looks at you Steve… it’s unbearable to watch, coming from her.”

Steve knows it, he’s seen that change. He’s felt the pitter patter of his heart, the way his hands shake when you look at him like that, like he’s all you want. But Steve is a coward in denial, he doesn’t want to assume wrong and send you running away from him. But if Robin’s seen it… “You really think so?” He says as he parks his car and Robin nods enthusiastically.

“Duh!”

He nods to himself, “Okay... I can tell her tonight. We are hanging out at my place anyway.”

“I’ll make myself scarce, just say the word and I’ll disappear.” When Steve nods Robin cheers, opening the passenger door and stepping outside. “Don’t mess it up, Steve.”

“I’ll try.” Steve grips the steering wheel, trying to calm himself down.

Steve doesn’t get a chance to though, for that afternoon with greying clouds in the sky you show up at Family Video as soon as your shift at the Deli ends. Steve is about to go to the back and finish some inventory he has procrastinated all week when he sees you pacing in front of his car, arms crossed over your chest. His heart soars, then fills with dread –somethings wrong. He knows it right away which is why he rounds the counter and rushes outside in a heartbeat.

“Babe, what’re you doing here?” Steve says as soon as he opens the door. “It’s gonna rain come on, let’s go inside.”

But you shake your head and look at him with a look he can’t name. It’s a sad look, and it makes Steve panic; he panics even more when he sees your eyes are teary and red-rimmed. “Did something happen? At work or at home?”

“I love you.” You say, at the same time thunder cracks in the distance. Your trembling lips press together when Steve’s move to smile, and your headshake makes Steve pause. “But I don’t think we should see each other again.”

“What?” Steve’s question is a whisper, almost lost to another booming thunder. “Why would you say that? Did I do something?”

“No, Steve.” You sigh, voice shaky, looking everywhere but his eyes. Steve knows this tell though; you don’t want to be caught in a lie. “We just don’t fit–”

“No.” He says simply, shaking his head as he interrupts you. This is that night in the Wheeler’s driveway all over again, you trying to shut everyone out. His hands still shake slightly though, at your confession, your words afterwards, at the idea of losing you.

“Steve it won’t work.” You tell him, it cracks halfway with feeling, and you swallow hard before repeating yourself. “It would never work.”

“Yes it will, it’s us.” Steve tells you, shaking his head. He remembers how far you’ve come, how close the two of you have gotten. He should’ve have known it would scare you, after what happened with your family. “Of course it will! It has worked for months.”

“It won’t! It won’t work regardless of our feelings. Because I’m me! And you’re you –you’ll get sick of me and then leave. And it’ll hurt more than anything I’ve ever experienced.” You tell him, shaking your head and looking at him with reddening eyes. Both your arms are crossed over your chest, as if you’re physically protecting your heart from feeling what if feels for him. I love you, you said. Around you, the sky begins to open, bathing both of you with big droplets of water. “I told you before, you scare me because I’ve never felt this way before.”

Steve tries to take a step closer, but you take a step back; it makes him groan in frustration. “You can’t make that decision for me! How can you think I’d just leave you?”

“Because the person who I thought never would, LEFT.” You yell, eyes brimming with tears that roll down your cheeks. They mix with the raindrops that fall on both of you and Steve’s heart aches.

“Then she didn’t love you enough, not the way you deserve.” Steve places his hands on his hips, looking at the wet concrete underneath his shoes. His eyebrows meet in the middle as he swallows hard. He can’t put into words how angry it makes him that someone hurt you so much, that you’re scared of being happy again. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I do.” You tell him, hands falling to your sides. Your voice is so quiet that the rain falling around you almost drowns it out. “You know I do.”

“Then let me love you!” You’re stunned into silence by Steve’s words, confessed loudly in an outburst as he brings his hands to his hair. He meets your eyes and feels his own tear up; he really doesn’t want to lose you. “Let me prove to you that I love you like crazy, baby. Because I do, you have no idea how much.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and Steve knows you can see all of his feelings reflected on his face. “I don’t want to be heartbroken again Steve! Can’t you see you’re sunshine, and I–”

“Don’t say that.” He whispers and steps closer to you, holding both of your hands. The way you cling to them sparks a fire in his heart, keeps his hope alive. “I told you I wouldn’t change a thing about you, that I’d fight my way to you.”

You try to let go of him, but Steve only pulls you closer even as you look away from him, lip trembling. “You know my issues, especially after what happened last year.”

“I do know them, and I’m telling you now that I don’t plan on ever letting you go. This isn’t just a fling, and you know it.” His hands go to your face, holding it gently and looking into your eyes. Those beautiful eyes he’s seen tear up, the ones that crinkle in the corners when you laugh and turn steely when you’re mad. He wants to look at them forever.

You close them, bracing yourself, as the sky continues to fall all around you. Big drops of water hitting your skin and soaking your clothes every second that passes. “Even if I have bad days, or get exasperated with you, or I’m a grump?”

Steve smiles and shakes his head. If only you knew. “I love it when you’re a grump, I want to kiss your pout so badly every time.”

“I don’t pout,” You roll your eyes, but Steve can see you’re trying to hide your fear. He’s learned every little detail about you to memory, this is you trying to build a wall. Well then, Steve knows how to break them down.

“I promise,” Steve says, like he did that November night you fought outside in the cold. His nose brushes against yours as tenderly as he can, rainwater sliding down between your faces –his breath catches on his throat. “I love everything about you, everything baby, trust me. It’s you and me, that won’t change.”

You nod, trust shining in your eyes as a teary smile makes its way to your face when you let it free. It knocks the air out of Steve’s lungs. “Stevie, I love you.”

 He leans his forehead against yours, happy beyond words and because he’s not good with them he says, “I really want to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me,” You urge him.

Steve leans down, holding your face in his hands and lingering close as he braces himself for this; this moment he’s wished for so many times. He smiles, and thinks finally, before leaning in and kissing you. A noise dies in the back of his throat, his chest feels full of helium and his mind reels at the everything he’s feeling. It’s even better than he dreamed it would be. Your lips soft against his, your hands in his hair, the sigh that escapes you when one of his arms wraps around your waist and presses you flush against him. His skin is buzzing, his fingertips are tingling. So he kisses you until you’re both dizzy, brushing his tongue against yours, matching your intensity head-on. Everything is intoxicating, the sweet scent of your perfume, the softness under his hands, the way your face feels like it’s on fire as his hand remains cupping your cheek. Steve is so in love he could faint, so he breathes you in as he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck and just below your ear until the two of you pull back. Soaked in rain, without a care in the world.

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?” You ask him softly, stepping impossibly closer to him.

Steve smiles proudly, heart soaring. “Yes it does, I’m yours.”

“I want to kiss you again.” You confess after a minute, blinking away that raindrops that have gathered in your eyelashes and smiling at him. “But I’m cold.”

 Steve laughs when you frown and pulls you closer to him. “Yeah, we should probably get out of the rain.”

----

thank you for reading! reblogs are really appreciated and so is any feedback 💖

(I also wrote this tiny insight to grumpy reader’s feelings here )

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x you #steve x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo (Prologue)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui except I decided to take it a step further and include all the dorms. I know that a lot of these animals don’t fit them perfectly, but I did the best I could. I left out Ortho because he has no age and he looks really young so… no.

All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Chapter One here

—----------------------

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Crowley.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. (Y/n)!”

You smiled up at your new boss, taking in his eccentric appearance- everything from his crow feather-lined cape, to his sparkling suit, to his top hat, and to the black bird mask that covered half his face. 

That name suits him.

“Now, you’re mainly a researcher, but you will also be assisting with some of the general chores, such as feeding the animals,” Mr. Crowley explained what you already knew.

“That’s alright,” you said, smiling brightly, “That will allow me to observe even more of their behaviors.”

You were fresh out of college and ready to face The Halfling Zoo. There was plenty of debate whether it was okay to treat half-humans as animals and keep them in a zoo, but it was convenient for you. You didn’t have to travel the world to attempt to study animals from afar through a camera lens.

“You will be supervising the lion and hyena exhibit, the wolf exhibit, the panther and tiger exhibit, the bird exhibits, the reptile house, and the aquarium,” Mr. Crowley explained.

“Wait, did you mean to say the lions and hyenas are together? And the panthers and tigers? Or did I misunderstand?” you asked, confused.

“They are bonded groups, so it would be wrong to separate them,” Crowley explained, “Halflings don’t always act like their animal counterparts.”

You nodded, cursing yourself internally. You had learned that on your first day at college! How could I be so stupid to forget about the bonds different Halfling species make?

“Follow me,” Mr. Crowley’s voice broke through your thoughts, “I’ll show you around.”

The two of you left the cramped office in the main staff building and headed out onto the guests’ paths. You could see a few families walking by- less than usual, since it was nearing closing time. It felt as though the sky was growing darker by the minute as the sun made its way down the horizon, beautiful orange and pink clouds lighting its path.

You almost immediately arrived at the lion and hyena exhibit. It was a huge enclosure, the terrain so detailed that you felt as though you had stepped straight into an African savannah. In fact, you could even feel the heat emanating from the ground itself.

“We keep it as hot as their home naturally is,” Mr. Crowley explained, reading your thoughts, “They’re happy here- it’s home with no need to hunt to survive.”

You nodded, but inside you wondered if that was really true or not. Were they really happier in a giant cage on display for humans than they were in Africa? You couldn’t imagine feeling that way.

Mr. Crowley pointed out a big rock where a pride of lions had gathered, “On top of that rock is the top dog- er, cat, I mean. The king of the jungle.”

Upon closer inspection, and a lot more eye strain, you could make out a figure lying on the top of the large rock. It was a Lion Halfling, with tan skin and thick, dark mane of brown hair that fell to his shoulders, except for the braids in front of his face, which were even longer. You could just make out the lion’s ears on top of his head and the lion’s tail draped over the rock’s side.

“And those are the hyenas,” Mr. Crowley supplied, pointing to the edge of the enclosure, “They’re used to aggressive females, so the males might be a little jumpy around you.”

You remembered reading about that in school, but it was amazing to see all the Halflings in person. You couldn’t help but feel excited to study them up close. Imagine if you made a big discovery that no one else had ever discovered about Halflings! After all, there were a lot of unknowns about them.

“Onto the wolf exhibit!” Mr. Crowley said in a sing-song voice.

The enclosure was right across the way from the lions and hyenas, but it had a completely different feel. The air was cooler when you walked up to the giant forest. Through the trees, it was difficult to actually see any wolf halflings. You thought you saw a flash of white, but it was too quick to tell.

“Yes, well, this exhibit is pretty quiet during the day,” the zoo director said awkwardly, “They’ll be out tonight, howling at the moon and whatnot.”

“Wolves don’t actually howl at the moon,” you helpfully supplied, “They howl to communicate with other wolves.”

Mr. Crowley stared at you for a moment and you wondered if you had annoyed him, until he grinned widely, “Such a knowledgeable new researcher!”

You smiled at the compliment, a little embarrassed as the two of you headed for the panther and tiger exhibit. You were surprised to see it alive with Halflings, all of them staring back at the two of you with narrowed eyes.

“There’s two black panthers,” Mr. Crowley pointed them out, “and two albino tigers. The four of them are as thick as thieves.”

You cautiously waved at them, but they merely turned away and disappeared into the jungle enclosure. You wondered if they were somehow curious to see you, or if they always did this to guests.

“Next, the bird exhibits!” Mr. Crowley led the way to the aviary. He pointed out Halflings left and right in the closely-packed enclosures, “A parrot, three albino peacocks, two flamingos, an owl, and a raven. You’ll get to know them well, since they’re mostly all very friendly. Except the peacocks are a little cocky.”

You giggled a little and waved to all the birds. It was a futile effort, because, save for the owl halfling, they were all fast asleep. The owl halfling stayed on his perch, wings tucked around his body, his bespectacled face scrutinizing you. Not in a rude way, just sort of deciding what you were.

You followed Mr. Crowley into a heated building with a glass wall on one side. You peered through the glass wall and immediately spotted the Boa Constrictor Halfling lying against the wall. Human until the torso, which then winded into a snake tail.

“Don’t be fooled!” Mr. Crowley said, “There is more than one snake in that exhibit. See if you can spot it.”

You looked at every angle, struggling to spot anything different. Then, a part of the sand moved and two gray eyes glared back at you.

“A Viper Halfling, right?” you said in awe, “Aren’t those venomous?”

“Ah, yes, well,” Mr. Crowley stuttered a little, “Don’t get bitten.”

You stared at him for a moment before it sunk in. All of these animals, except the birds, were extremely dangerous! And you were going to go into their enclosures to study and feed them? Were you insane?

You pushed down the panic and took a deep breath. This is what you signed up for. You probably already waived all your rights away anyway. You hadn’t looked at the fine print of your contracts, of course.

You noticed another tank on the other side of the room and walked up to it. You couldn’t see anything inside this one, but Mr. Crowley was quick to explain, “There’s a salamander in this one. A beautiful electric blue, but extremely shy.”

You peered inside, trying to catch a glance of blue, but you couldn’t see a thing.

“Lastly, the aquarium,” Mr. Crowley clapped his hands together, as though to bring you back to reality. 

The aquarium was a huge glass tank where visitors could go down the stairs and see inside. The two of you walked by it, and saw very little signs of life. 

“You’ll probably see the eel twins a bit. They’re a little shy at first, but Floyd is pretty playful. The octopus, on the other hand, rarely leaves his cave. He’ll venture out to eat, but that’s about it. We should have made that damn thing see-through, but it’s too late now.”

You were glad it was a normal cave, and not transparent like the glass. The Octopus Halfling probably felt safe inside it. It wouldn’t be fair to rob him of that simple pleasure.

“That’s the end of your tour, young lady,” Mr. Crowley said cheerfully, “You start bright and early tomorrow, have a long lunch break, then leave late at night. Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”

He looked down at you with a hint of nervousness, as though he expected you to say “no”. But you were determined and excited to explore what your classes had trained you for. Real life application.

“I’m ready!”

Note: So, some of the animals are obvious, but I’m wondering what you all think the others are?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland

[spitdrunken]

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #cw.drugging #cw.noncon #cw.dubcon

[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

tough crowd… || theodore nott x reader

a/n: this is short but i LIKE IT

theodore nott never really thought that he would ever be in a serious relationship. he assumed that, given his family's reputation, people would avoid him like the plague and he would be arranged to marry a pure-blood witch. he had resigned himself to this all the way back in fourth year, when he found himself at the yule ball with no date. he was okay with being alone. all he really needed were his friends.

but ever since he saw (y/n) in the courtyard that day he's found himself changing. he used to ignore the lovey-dovey couples around school that were glued to the hip, sucking faces in the hallway. but now, seeing them made his stomach churn, not only from disgust, but because he wanted a relationship like that. but maybe minus the nauseating amount of PDA.

theodore talked to (y/n) every day in potions, and he found himself wishing that his double potions class was longer. just so he could get more time to spend with her. they were growing closer, now friends rather than acquaintances.

one day in class, after lots of stolen glances, giggling, and no-so-discreet flirting, malfoy lost it.

"canyoutwojustgoonadatealready?" draco raised his voice, losing it after theo asked to compare hand sizes with her (PFFFFF im getting the ick).

both theo and (y/n) stared at him with red faces, shuffling away from each other and looking down at their respective cauldrons. people at the tables near the group looked over in mild interest.

theo wasn't sure how to recover from this, but before he could spiral, a piece of parchment was slid in front of him. it was a cartoon at someone pulling at their collar nervously (ya know? i physically cannot insert a gif i think ill melt). he smiled down at the paper and then back up at the girl who was side-eyeing him. she then turned to face him fully and offered an apologetic smile for the interaction.

as much as theo hated to admit this, draco might have just given him the perfect opportunity. after class, he put on his coolest persona, leaned against the potions station and looked down at the girl.

"maybe we should go on a date..." theo said, analyzing her face for any kind of reaction. "would you...like to?" oh no the facade is slipping, don't let her see you weak theodore.

"yeah, yes, i mean..." she trailed off, closed her eyes and then opened them again, facing him, "yes, i would."

"we could go to hogsmeade this weekend..." he looked into her eyes hopefully, but trying to seem cool.

"that sounds great," she said, her grin widening, "i'll see you then." she went to walk away, but then turned around slowly and said, "i'll also see you tomorrow because-"

"yeah we have-"

"-we have potions..."

"-potions. yeah..."

"...yeah. okay, bye!"

DUDE I THOUGHT I COULDNT WRITE A PART 3 BUT I REALLY LIKE THIS ill write the date soon HAHHAHAHAHAH

#theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #harry potter x reader #harry potter #theodore nott imagines #theo nott imagines

[angelltheninth]

Hello! I recently found your blog and I absolutely love it and your writing, and I noticed there wasn’t a lot of Douma content but you did say you would write for him and I was wondering if I could request Douma with a breeding kink? (Dub con or noncon) I feel like he’d definitely have a breeding kink while being cocky about it, talking about how honoured they should be to take their lords cum and be given the chance to have his heir and how even if they think they don’t want it now, after they become round with his child they’ll realize how much they love him and their little family they’re making.

He is definitely the kind of guy who would do something like this.

Pairing: Douma x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con, breeding kink, manipulation, pregnancy mention, rough sex, crying, mindbreak, creampie

A/N: A bit on the rougher side but have you seen Douma? That's one happy and sadistic bastard.

"And just where the fuck do you think you're going huh?" Douma's claws dig into your hips a little, not enough to tear flesh but enough to make you stop in your tracks, "Did I tell you to leave? We're not done here, not by a long shot. I still have a cunt to breed."

Like he hasn't been doing that for hours, putting you in every position you did and didn't know of, slamming you onto his cock like a fuckdoll and pumping you full of his seed.

"Please... my Lord... Douma... I can't... please stop..." You felt like your body would give out at any moment, like you would pass out from the rough ponding you've been subjected to. Douma flipped you over on your back, hands locking around your ankles and pushing his hot, hard cock back inside you, eyes shining in the moonlight as they meet yours, a little lovedrunk blush on his cheeks.

"Stop? How can I when this pussy is servicing me so well. Its sucking me in, just feel it, feel how much you still want my seed, my children, deep in this womb of yours." One of his hands lets go of your bruised ankle and pressed over your stomach, "Demon seed take root fast, pretty soon you'll be showing, pretty and round with your Lord's offspring. Be honored that a made you, a lowly whore, into someone so important."

You shut your eyes tight, images of that future briefly flashing before your eyes before a new, hot, potent flood of seed washes over your inner walls, "Am I... really that important to you my Lord?"

"Oh yes. Most important. You will carry my heirs, give them a warm home and love of a mother with me, your Lord, by your side. Do you understand now? It must be you." You. He's doing this for you, all night he's been doing this for you. "It must be you because you're precious to me." He smiles down at you, a soft smile that brings tears in your eyes before it shifts back into the almost maniacal, lustful, demonic grin he's looked at you all night.

You feel your body getting hotter for him, another orgasm closing in, but this one feeling greater then all others, now that you've accepted your role as his beloved. You lock your leg around him, pulling his cock deeper, his smile getting wider.

"Yes, now you understand. You're being honest, finally, you'll take this seed with honor."

"Yes, it... its an honor to be your, my Lord. Please make me yours." You found it hard to think about anything else but this, but this pleasure, but Douma, grinning and laughing above you, and the future you were gonna have together.

#douma #douma x reader #douma x you #douma imagine #douma headcanons #douma smut #kny x reader #kny douma #doma x reader #kny smut #doma demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x you #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kny x you #kny x female reader #douma x female reader

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 668

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid

-Prologue-

Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.

”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.

“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

Dean scoffed.

“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.

“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”

He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.

“Five minutes ago.”

“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.

“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”

“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.

“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.

“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”

——————————————————————

Up Next

Chapter 1

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #Dean Winchester x reader smut #Dean Winchester x you smut #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader #dean winchester smut

[restinslices]

Everything

PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 2459

Summary: Ares supposedly hates kids, so it’s really strange that he comes when you call. (Do not let the summary fool you, this is not fluff. Based on a dream I had a couple days ago. Warning for possible ooc Ares and brief mentions of abuse. Blink and you’ll miss it type shit)

“I don't wanna say”, Grover fingers fidgeted with each other as he purposefully avoided eye contact with you. 

“We're friends, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then you have to tell me! You spoke to my father, I gotta know what he said! What was he like? I bet he was really cool! Man, I wish I could've been there and talked to him”, you looked down at your shoes and added more misery to your face than was necessary. It was extremely childish and petty but Grover kept refusing to tell you what your father Ares was like. You had to know though. You doubted he brought you up, but you still wanted to know what he said and what he was like when he was just out and about. Grover had the opportunity to have a long talk with him and that was something you'd kill and suffer for. 

“I doubt you'd wanna do that” he mumbled, but you heard him. 

“Why'd you say that?” You asked. 

Grover refused to expound on what he meant… at first. 

Everyone knew Grover couldn't hold water so it didn't take too much prodding before he spilled his guts. 

The memory replayed in your head more than you'd like to admit, and if it were up to you, you'd no longer be a half blood. 

It made you feel pathetic. Tons of gods- no. All the gods were shitty parents. After all, they had children with mortals and left the children on Earth, knowing they'd be hunted down. Plenty of half bloods died in a gruesome painful way and at a young age. Plenty of gods never claimed their children, even if they made it to Camp Half Blood. But Ares did claim you, so you assumed that that meant he cared for you in some way. He even gifted you with a double sided sword. Surely, he must've loved you. 

You were foolish and you hated how foolish you were. You should've known he didn't care. He left you here with mortals and watched as your home life got worse and worse which was due to multiple factors including a piss poor mother and step family, the aura children of Ares give off that makes people around them experience rage and of course the random monster attacks that your family blamed you for. It was as if they thought you begged Ares to be his child. As if you'd ever do something as stupid as that. 

The rain soaked through your hood, making your hair all wet and gross. You were an idiot. You tried coming home for the school year, thinking maybe your family changed. They said they did. They tended to lie a lot though. You got into a huge fight and stormed out and you were in such a hurry that you completely forgot to grab your pouch full of drachmas and you didn't wanna step another foot in that house. So now here you were, outside with freezing cold hands that couldn't be warmed because your hoodie was soaking and you couldn't call Chiron. Perfect.

You checked your pockets once again, hoping to find something other than the lighter and fruit roll up that was there but alas, nothing magically appeared. You held the two objects in your hand and an idea formed in your mind. 

You could always set the fruit roll up on fire as an offering. You could pray to your father and hope he hears you and sends you something to help. 

No. That's incredibly stupid. Could you even light a fruit roll up on fire? It didn't matter. Not only was that the stupidest offering ever but you refused to pray to him. You'd rather sleep out in the rain then sneak inside when your family was gone to get your shit. 

You put the two objects in your pocket and let your head rest on your knees, exhaustion hitting. It wasn't even physical exhaustion. It was all mental and emotional. Like a leech was sucking on you constantly. Or a vampire. You'd prefer that. At least you'd die quicker. 

The hum of a motorcycle filled your ears, getting closer and closer. Best case scenario, it was a neighbor. Worst case scenario, it was a murderer. Honestly, you'd welcome both. 

The hum stopped and a familiar voice made you look up, “rough night”. 

It was him. Ares. God of war. Father to who knew how many. It was someone you definitely did not want to see… or so you thought. Part of you absolutely despised him now and everything to do with him and wanted to rip him apart. The other part of you though still felt an immense amount of joy when you saw him and you wanted to cling to him like a child clings to its favorite toy. If you were alone, you would've screamed. 

Then a thought crossed your mind. You didn't burn anything. You didn't make an offering. 

“You were going to” he said, seeming to read your mind. 

“Why are you here?” you managed to get out after some time of just staring at him. 

“Why do you think I'm here?” he asked and you could tell by his tone he meant it sarcastically. Like “the reason is so obvious. Stop being stupid”. 

Something about that sarcastic and irritated tone made you think back to what Grover told you. 

“Why don't you like me?” You asked and you hadn't meant to. It was supposed to stay in your head. 

He squinted his eyes at you and looked you up and down, “what?”. 

You could've let it go. You could've said nevermind, thanked him and let him help. You couldn't though. You didn't know when you'd have this chance again (the camp visited them but damn, there was a lot of you) and if you did something to make him not like you, you wanted to fix it. But that wasn't your job, right? Parents are supposed to care for their kids. 

You did that a lot. Your mind juggled opposite thoughts and it drove you insane. This was just the latest bit of juggling you'd been doing. 

“Grover said he spoke to you-”

“Who is Grover?”

“Percy's friend. The satyr”. A look of anger flashed in his eyes. You knew he remembered Percy. You didn't give him time to start yelling about the 12 year old that beat him in a fight. “Grover said that he spoke to you. I asked what it was like and he said that you said that you hate kids. Even your own. And when we visit, it's the worst day of the year. So, I was just wondering why you don't like me. Is it something I've done?”. 

Ares just rolled his eyes and sighed, “you're taking that personal?”. 

“It's kinda hard not to”. 

“I came to take you back to camp, not talk about whatever crisis you're having right now”. 

You didn't know if you were angry because of what he said, or because of his effect on others. Either way, blood started rushing to your head. “I'm not asking for a lot. I'm asking for an answer. A simple answer. Why don't you like me?”

“I don't like any of my kids”

“And that makes it better?” You asked in disbelief. Ares just stared at you, emotion void on his face. 

“Why do you do this? You keep having kids even though you hate them. Why?”. 

“It's not that simple and I don't have to explain anything to you”. You wished he'd show emotion. Any sliver of it. He was too calm, too numb. You'd prefer him yelling at you but nothing seemed to phase him. He was talking to you the same way you'd talk to a toddler. 

“It is incredibly simple. Just stop having sex with mortals. You already have Aphrodite -who is a married woman but whatever-” you rushed the last part. You didn't particularly care for the affairs between the gods. “How could your eyes possibly wander?”. 

Seeing him show a sliver of anger when you mentioned Aphrodite only filled you with more rage. That’s what angered him? That’s what got emotion out of him? “Really? That's what gets you? What about me being drenched?”

“You chose to come out here” he said through gritted teeth. If you knew Aphrodite was the key to him showing any piece of human emotion, you would've brought her up earlier. 

“I didn't choose this!” Your voice rose, “I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”. 

“Believe it or not the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”

“But turning them into various objects and ruining their lives when it's a boring Tuesday is ok?”. His face went back to being blank and emotionless and your plan to stop talking was scrapped. You weren't even sure what you wanted. You wanted him to show something besides anger. Sadness? Regret maybe? Just something to show that maybe, just maybe, he cared deep down and regretted leaving you. 

“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”. 

“I claimed you didn't I?” he defended himself, but you scoffed. 

“That's the bare minimum dad! That's like saying your kids should be grateful because you feed them!” You were full on screaming by now and you wouldn't have been surprised if a neighbor came out to see what the fuss was about. “I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you. You probably hate being called 'dad’ and you don't care. You're never gonna get it”

“I try everyday to make you see me and you do everything in your power to not see me. To not see any of us. I would work myself to death for you. I would betray anyone close to me for you. If you asked me to burn down the world for you, I would. If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”. 

You couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain, or from tears of sorrow and anger. It could've been both. Your eyes certainly stung and you hated it. You knew you had every right to be frustrated, but you hated how weak it made you feel. The children of Ares weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to be headstrong and fight their enemies. They were supposed to be fierce warriors capable of bringing armies down to their knees. They were meant to shed blood, not tears. 

You thought for a second you saw an emotion cross his face. You couldn't pinpoint it though. It happened too fast and there was a good chance you were imagining things. 

“You can go. I'd rather sleep in the rain. I wouldn't wanna be even more of a burden” you spat with such venom you didn't know it was possible. Sure, you could have a bit of a temper but this felt different. It wasn't just anger or annoyance. There was a mix of grieving. 

It went silent for awhile, and the adrenaline you felt slowly went down. Reality started to sink in. You just yelled at a god. People who were known to cause destruction for something as small as “I think my shoes are better than yours”. 

“Are you gonna curse me? Or, I don't know, strangle me with my own shoe laces?”. Ares reached into his pocket and you looked away and closed your eyes. You expected to feel a burning sensation. That's what you assumed being cursed was like. A burning sensation and then you'd lose a limb or something. 

All you felt was something land on your lap. You looked down and saw a red pouch with gold string keeping it closed. You looked up at him, but he didn't say anything. You untied the string and opened the pouch and inside laid a pile of drachmas. 

Now he spoke, “call Chiron or whoever else works at that camp. Don't die out here”. 

“You're leaving?” You asked. You didn't know why you were disappointed. You should've been happy. After all, you just went off on him about how shit he was. 

“I have a busy schedule”. You wanted to ask if he'd be seeing the married woman he slept with or another unfortunate mortal, but you figured you pushed your luck enough today. 

“Thanks uhh…” you debated on calling him dad but instead you called him by his name. “Ares”. Then you remembered some gods could be particularly upset when you used their name. “God of war and all those other honorifics”. 

“Yeah” was all he said before he sped off, leaving you alone once again. You didn't know what he was saying “yeah” to but you didn't have enough time to ask and he probably wouldn't even answer. 

You called Chiron and asked to be brought back to camp but you didn't tell him about the conversation you had with Ares. 

You couldn't get the conversation out of your head, even after you showered and laid down to finally get some rest. 

Of course you kept thinking about the conversation and how lucky you were Ares didn't throw you into the street and run you over. 

Another thing stayed on your mind though. 

You didn't give an offering. You were told the gods would listen if you burned something that mattered, like the thickest piece of meat on your plate. You weren't sure they were actually listening and honestly you thought it was a real asshole condition. 

All you had was some stupid candy and you didn't even burn that and the minute you thought about it, he appeared like he was already watching. 

But you doubted he was watching. You doubted he listened to your prayers at all. 

You were one of his children which was something he hated. He'd claim you, possibly send a gift then be done with you. He didn't listen to you anymore. He didn't watch over you anymore. 

It was a coincidence. That's all it was. 

You were sure of it. 

At least, you tried to be. 

This is definitely ooc Ares but YA’LL KNOW I’M A LITTLE FUCKING SLOW! BE PATIENT WITH ME GOTDAMMIT😭 If you saw any errors, no you did not. I already proofread it once and I don’t feel like doing it again like I typically do. It’s 1am. I should be asleep.

#percy jackson #percy series #percy jackson ares #pjo tv show #ares pjo #pjo series #pjo angst #percy jackson angst #ares x child #ares x reader #ares angst #idk what else to tag #ares would’ve probably drove off but LISTEN-

[rafeandonlyrafe]

baby fever

words: 1.4k

warnings: smut!, 18+ only, unprotected sex

“baby, are you okay?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he walks past, carrying a box to a different room. you were helping him unpack into his new house but only big boxes were left, and rafe refuses to let you carry anything that you would even remotely struggle with.

“fine.” you say, but rafe can tell by your voice that you’re saying it with a pout on your face.

“baby.” rafe scolds, coming to sit next to you. 

“it’s just… my cousin had her baby and she’s posting the cutest things on instagram and well… i have baby fever.”

rafe chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you want a baby?” he asks.

“of course, they’re just so cute and i know i’m young but i would be such a good mother and-” you suddenly realize that rafe isn’t thinking about it in the same fantastical way that you are, “i mean not right this moment. just in general.”

rafe nods in understanding, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you show him a picture of the baby on instagram, a beautiful healthy little girl, weighing in at exactly 6 pounds 8 ounces. 

“can’t wait to have a baby with you.” rafe says, and you snap your head to look at him, locking your phone and setting it on the couch cushion next to you. 

“you want to have a baby with me?” you ask. you’ve talked about your future with rafe plenty of times, but never really about starting a family or when that would happen.

“of course.” rafe cups your cheek in his large hand. “gonna marry you one day.” he presses his lips against yours, “have lots of babies.” he kisses you again, and you let yourself get lost in the rhythm of your lips sliding against each other.

you shift so you can straddle rafe, and he wraps his arms around your waist to pull your body close. you let out a moan against his lips when you feel that his cock is swelling beneath his sweatpants.

you are both tired from the day of moving, but you need rafe more than anything. you quickly take your shirt off before reconnecting your lips, letting rafes adept hands undo your bra, tossing it somewhere in the room. 

his hands cup your breast, massaging them gently in his warm palms before swiping his thumbs over your nipples, making them grow hard. you shiver at the sensation, grinding your pussy against his crotch.

“fuck, i need you now.” rafe pulls away to take his own shirt off. you stand up, unbuttoning your shorts and taking your underwear off at the same time as them, not wanting to waste any time.

rafe lifts his hips to take his pants and underwear off before you’re back on top of him. you grind your bare cunt against his cock, spreading your wetness. rafe lets out a moan at the sensation. “baby, i love you.”

you smile, giving rafe a sweet peck on the lips. “i love you too.”

suddenly rafe flips you so you can lie down with your back on the plush couch cushions. rafe bends down your body to take your nipple into his mouth, giving it a harsh suck while his free hand goes to your wet pussy, thumb rubbing over your clit. you let out a gasp as he moves to the other side of your chest.

“fuck me, rafey, please, need you so much.” usually you’d let rafe finger you or eat you out beforehand, whatever he pleased, but you need to feel connected right now, joined together.

rafe nods, coming up to peck your lips quickly before looking down, grasping his cock to line it up with your entrance. 

“deep breath for me baby, you’re doing so good.” rafe soothes you as he begins to push in with ease.

you whimper when he’s all the way inside, hips pressed as far into your body as possible. “move.” you command, leaning your head back and closing your eyes in preparation for his thrusts, but it doesn’t come.

“gonna put a baby in you one day.” rafe says huskily, draping his body over yours.

you let out a moan, attempting to wiggle your hips to get him to move, needing it now more than ever at the thought of your tummy swelling with rafes baby.

“gonna marry you, buy you the biggest ring.” rafe presses a kiss against your neck.

“gonna spend the rest of our lives together, huh?” he asks, and you nod quickly, wanting nothing more than that.

“please move.” you beg, feeling tears well up in your eyes.

“move baby?” rafe mouths open in fake offense. “i’m talking about our future and all you can think about is your pussy?” “rafeyyy.” you whine, clenching your pussy around his cock, hoping that gets him moving. 

“gonna make you so happy, huh? does that sound good to you my princess? big diamond on your finger, house full of babies running around?”

you nod, closing your eyes to imagine the future with rafe, the amount of happiness and love that would be in that house. you’re in your little dreamland when suddenly rafe pulls almost all the way out and then thrusts quickly back in.

“ahh!” your back arches up, tears now flowing down your cheeks.

“part of making you happy is also keeping this pretty pussy happy, huh? want me to fuck you?”

you nod quickly, “yes, yes, rafe. fuck me please, you make me so happy, so happy.” you babble.

rafe begins to snap his hips into you in earnest. you raise your hips to meet his thrusts, bodies coming together in an explosion of pleasure. rafe presses a thumb against your clit, rubbing it gently.

“love you y/n.” rafe presses his lips against your mouth in a half-kiss, but you can barely kiss back as you let out a moan with every thrust. “love you so much.”

you nod, hoping he understands that you’re trying to say that you love him back, but you can’t form words as your clit begins to pulse, trying to wait for rafe to also cum, but you can’t hold back anymore, his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside of you and his thumb rubbing your sensitive clit.

“rafe!” you shout, the one word you’re able to form as your orgasm sweeps over your body, back arching as rafe presses down against you, mouth coming to bite between your neck and your shoulder as he pushes through your clenching pussy to cum deep inside of you, releasing with a final shout of your name.

“y/n, y/n.” rafe pants as you feel him filling you up. you imagine, just for a second, that you hadn’t taken your birth control pill this morning, that he was giving you his seed, and you would grow a little mini rafe in your tummy. 

rafe collapses on top of you, completely spent. he pulls out after a moment, but can’t get it in him to get up yet. you scratch your fingers over his skull, and rafe gives an approving hum.

“love you too.” you coo, finally able to respond. 

rafe chuckles, picking his head up to give you a sweet kiss. “you know i was serious about all that, right?” rafe asks, sitting himself up and pulling you with him so you’re both sitting on the couch.

you feel the slight urge to cry again, big happy tears full of love with rafe and hope for your future. “i would love nothing more than to marry you and start a family some day.” you know you’re still young, that you have plenty of time, but you’re so deeply in love, you just know that rafe is the one for you.

“well to start that out,” rafe stands up, grabbing his underwear and pulling them on as he heads to grab something off the dining room table. you furrow your brow in confusion, grabbing his shirt and putting it on.

rafe comes back and sits down on the couch, handing you a small gift box. you smile as you undo the ribbon, opening it up to reveal a key.

“rafe?” you ask, hope in your eyes as you look up at him.

“move in with me? this house is too big to be here all alone, and i want to spend every minute with you.” 

“oh rafey, yes!” you throw your arms around his shoulders, pressing kisses all over his face.

“i love you.” rafe squeezes your sides. “even if you’ve turned me into a big sap.”

you giggle, pressing a kiss to rafes lips. “i love you too.”

#reupload! #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe imagine #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe one shot #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut

[sensei-venus]

Jaime Reyes x Chubby!Reader: Thighs for Days~

(Unedited) (Thigh Fucking) ( @gemini-sensei )

Jaime doesn't really knows what takes over him as he kneels behind Reader. His calves burn a little as he sits on his hunches over her.

His breathing gets heavy as he pushes himself over her. Their naked skin rubs together so deliciously, it has him whimpering. He can't help but be loud as the soft skin of her back rubs up against her chest. Eyes rolling at the feeling of her body against his.

Just an hour ago they were having dinner with his family. Laughing and talking about their week at work and school. They joked about what they should do that weekend.

Then thirsty minutes later he was making out with Reader up against the brick wall outside her apartment. She did her best to not make a sound as they made out so publicly. The street lights were just starting to come on in the complex parking lot.

She whinned into his mouth as he ran a hand over her thick thigh. His fingers digging into the fabric that left him unable to grab at the fat of her juicy legs. His dick screamed to be let out at that point. It rubbed at her leg as he almost humped her in the door way.

Now he was trying his best not to busy right then and there.

He wondered what her fat ass would look like covred with a hot load of his cum. He wonders what it would look like in the barely lit bedroom. They were both to ocupided with each other to flip more then Reader’s bathroom light on. It was an accident, his hand reached for the bedroom light but accidentally caught the bathroom switch when reaching out. Now only a small stream of light from the cracked door lit her room.

“Let me use your thighs! Please amar please.”

His voice was strained as he tried his best not to rut against her naked ass. The thickness of it against his throbbing cock only spared him on. Urging him to keep going and milk out a nice orgasm. One he needed so badly at that very moment. That's all his poor brain could think about.

“Fuck Jamie yes!! Fuck my thighs baby!” Reader moaned into her pillow at the feeling of his dick against her. Her thighs squeeze together as she shakes her hips at him. Her ass drawing up and back to urge him on. Trying to get him to push into her soft skin. Her eyes roll back as she feels him squeeze himself tighter to her. Sucking in a sharp breath he moves against her once again.

He jerks himself in his hand before lining his dick up with her tight thighs. Leaving him no real opening she pushes into the tight crook of her thighs. He moans as he pushes through the tight little hole between her thighs. The lack of a thigh gap does amazing things to his thick cock. His hands grip at her rolls, squeezing her fat sides. She shivers at the feeling if being pushed down into her own mattress.

He's quick to pick up a fast and heavy pace. Thrusting as fast as he can between her thighs. His balls slap loudly in the silent room and echo around them. Soon enough the whole room is full of their sounds. Moans and groans fill the atmosphere of the room and send shock waves through both of them. Reader can't hold back her own sounds when her boyfriend reaches around under her. Starting to play with her folds and pinching at her clit.

Using his own wetness and his precum he made little circles. Tiny figure eights that made her start to see stars behind her eyelids. Her lids fluttered as she shoved her face into the pillows below her. It was almost as if he knew every trick in the book to make her explode.

“Oh amar your so good for me. Letting me use those pretty thighs. Letting me get off to such a simple but so pretty part of your body.” his voice was horse in her ear. Hot breath fanning over her earlobe. She squealed, trying to bite her lip to keep quiet.

Jaime’s pace didn't let up as he worked harder to get himself off. The sticky sound of his cum lubing up Reader's thighs filled his head. It was nasty and raw. So gross and lewd, he had only dreamed of making such obscure notices with his chubby little girlfriend before all this. Being in this moment was a whole new thing. He no longer had to imagine it as it was right there in front of him.

Fat little ass high in the air, his hot dick shoved between fatty thighs covered in his own cum. Warm drooling pussy leaking all over him with every little move he made.

He was in heaven.

Between his girls thighs with his dick out.

Sadly it was over faster then he wanted it to be. He just couldn't take the fact that it was all so very real.

With just a few more heavy thrusts he had no other option but to let go. His eyes teared with pleasure as his hips started to stall. Heavy balls clenched and drew up with two last hard thrusts. With only a split second to think he quickly popped out from between her thighs. Rubbing his cum covered dick over her ass cheeks. Moments later he groans as he busts.

Thick cum shoots out in thick ropes along his girlfriend's ass and back. It pools on her ass and spills down her ass crack. It starts to drip down to her back and leaves a watery trail. A second later he speeds up his fingers in hopes of finding some kind of ground. His whole body shaking as his orgasm runs though his veins.

His fingers speed up and soon Reader is screaming out. Her hips jerking and her legs shaking. He feels her thighs lock before he feels her juices coating his fingers. He brings her though the harsh aftershock. Her cum squirts out along his thin fingers. He stops messing with her clit and plays with her folds.

Their sopping wet, he knows she's put a wet spot in the sheets below them.

He smirks at the scene below him.



#blue beetle headcanons #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle movie #blue beetle #jaime reyes headcanons #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes x chubby reader #jaime rayes #dc comics x reader #dc universe #dca fandom #smut #blue beetle smut #chubby!reader #chubby reader

[lunarspiral1127]

So, I watched the first two episodes of X-Men 97 and here are my thoughts.

*SPOILERS*

Pros:

Morph got to do some more cool stuff during the fight scenes.

Gambit in a crop top....what? He's hot and a bad@$$.

Speaking of Gambit, he and Rogue have a lot of scenes together, which is great. I do ship them together, and I just want them to be together already.

I freaking love Storm in this. She's one of my favorite X-Men characters. Her voice after killed it again, we see her leadership and compassion as a team and family member, and she's still a freaking bad@$$. She turned some patches of sand into glass with her lightning!! However, something happens to her which I'll get to in a sec.

Magneto's UN trial. It was well done, and Magneto's speeches were pretty good. Then there's what he did after X-Cutioner tried to shoot him. Like, what the hell, show? Are you trying to make me switch to Team Magneto? Seriously, he was really good so far in the show.

Cons:

Now, I'm never a fan of love triangles unless done right. It was bad enough that we still have that with Jean, Cyclops, and Wolverine (especially since Wolverine and Jean is one-sided), which I thought Logan moved on from that but I guess not, we may get another one with Gambit, Rogue, and MAGNETO! Okay, look, I get the Rogue and Magneto thing was in the comics, but since when was that ever established in the animated series?! I never recalled anything going on between the two in the 90s show nor were there any signs of them used to being an item. If this was to give tension for the Rogue/Gambit romance, there are other ways of doing that. Yeah, it was just confusing and weird to me.

Storm losing her powers. This is gonna be a con for now cause I know she'll get her powers back somehow. But seeing her get shot and losing her powers made me lose my s**t cause how dare you do that to her?! Man, I was hoping Magneto was gonna kill X-Cutioner, and frankly, I wouldn't blame him if he did. Not after what he did to Storm. It sucks even more when you got to see how great she is as coleader, sister, and teammate.

And, now, the questions

Is it gonna be explained why Morph has the changeling look instead of his old one from the previous show?

When did Bishop come back? I like him, but I thought he went back to his timeline.

Was expecting Madeline Pryer to show up, but which one is she? Was there a switcheroo and if so, when did that happen?

Does Magneto have an ulterior motive?

When the hell was Magneto and Rogue a thing in the show?!

Will Logan ever move on from Jean?

Why Sunspot and Jubilee? Cause I wasn't feeling it. Dunno why, maybe it's because of how the Sunspot character acts cause I didn't like him much. Also, was that it from the character?

Why doesn't Rogue take one of those collars to nullify her powers so she can be able to touch someone without harming them?

And, that's all I can think of at the top of my head. Liking the show so far. Hopefully, it doesn't fumble.

#x men 97 #xmen 97 #x-men 97 #xmen #x-men #x men #marvel

[niphredil-14]

Hey babes!! I was wondering if you could maybe write a Jason Todd x reader where the reader gets hit on by a stranger, which leads Jason to become somewhat jealous and a little possessive (a healthy amount of course... 😭). Reader wears a necklace with a J on it which he specifically points out to stranger to sort of prove a point that they are indeed taken, that's when he sort of leaves them alone.. Jason on the other hand has a lot in store for reader, specifically in the bedroom.. breeding kink??? Sorry, my mind is all over the place right now 😭

Sorry it's my first time writing a request I don't really know what I'm doing.. but have a great day!!

Sorry this took so long to write, I've been struggling with writer's block, burnout, and some mental health stuff, also my job sucks ass and is super draining. gotta love retail, huh? anyways I hope you enjoy and also sorry that it is so short. I am trying to clear out my inbox on a random boost of motivation so that I can move onto accepting requests for a new fandom!!

White was creeping into the edge of their blurry vision, and their hands, placed against the full body floor mirror for some semblance of support, were shaking about as much as the rest of their body. Their feet had been kicked apart so that Jason could stand between them as he pistoned in and out of their hole, a rough ebb and flow giving them chance to catch their breath. One of his hands rested on their hip, and the other one on their shoulder. They had been stripped entirely, except for a simply, dainty necklace hanging around their neck. The charming J pendant rested just between their collarbones, and was being forced to swing away from them before falling back onto their clavicle, like a single pendulum taken from a Newton's Cradle and being left to swing alone.

"You look so good like this, sweetheart." Jason drawled, his Gotham accent made thicker by his arousal as he left the 'arr' sound in 'sweetheart' to hang in the air, separate from the rest of the word's syllables. "Such a shame your friend from earlier won't get to ever see you like this, since you're all mine." A whine left their throat as they tilted their head to the side, letting it fall limp. He could feel them clench around him. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He asked, though it sounded more like a taunt. "You like bein' mine, dollface?" His teasing only grew more eager. "You like belongin' to me?" They let out the most pathetic sounding whine of affirmation, which was met with a dark chuckle from their lover, followed by the index and middle fingers of his hand, sliding from their shoulder underneath the chain of the necklace, and pulling it into their neck, until their skin puffed out around it. The sigh they let out was pure filth. "You're so fuckin' desperate to be mine, I'd bet you'd let me breed you right now."

"Fuck! Please, Jay!" They called out, and his hips stilled. He tugged the necklace a tiny bit more, and leaned so that his head was next to theirs, their eyes met in the mirror, and Jason parted his lips.

"Are you sure, hon? 'Cause I will, and at that point, there'll be no goin' back, you know? I'd fill ya until I was sure it took, and then I'd go out and buy you a ring first thing in the mornin.' You sure you want that, Y/n? For us to have a family? For you to really be mine, forever?" They nodded breathlessly. "'S not enough, Darlin,' I need to hear ya say it, I'm not gonna take any chances here." His voice was rushed and breathy, and with all of his emotion, his accent made him near unintelligible, but they knew him, knew what he was asking for. They turned their head, fighting against the necklace cutting into them near painfully, and moved one of their hands off of the mirror to place on Jason's cheek.

"I'm sure, Jason. I want to be yours completely, I want it to be us forever." The softest smile graced his face, as his eyes became visibly glossy, and releasing the necklace, letting its pendant rest gently on their skin, he moved his head down to slowly kiss them as he began to move his hips again.

I meant for this to be kinky I swear, I fully blame my shitty day for how fluffy this is. lmk if you want me to write another where its rougher or something.

#dc #jason todd #red hood #robin #arkham knight #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x gn reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x gn reader smut #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x gn reader #red hood smut #red hood x reader smut #red hood x gn reader smut #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight x you #arkham knight x y/n #arkham knight smut #ak jason x reader #ak jason x you #ak jason x y/n #ak jason x gn reader #ak jason smut #ak jason x gn reader smut #ak jason x reader smut

[disneyprincemuke]

just friendly dating advice * fem!driver

she throws her head back slightly when max puts a button down in front of her. she turns her head to alex, folding his arms over his chest.

"what are we doing here?" she asks, raising her eyebrows. she turns to the door, that's just closed, leaving her in a dimly lit room while surrounded by her older colleagues. "where are logan and oscar going?"

"we've been made aware that you," lando sighs with a shake of his head and pursed lips, "suck at dating."

"what?"

"oscar just told us the story of another failed date. another!" max cries. "and you let yourself get ghosted by this guy? seriously, who are you?"

"it was one date, and you can't even lie properly! i told logan that story when i came home from that date!" she shrieks, pushing the chair back and standing up. "you spied on me, didn't you?"

"we weren't spying on you, we simply ended up in the same restaurant," alex explains, rolling his eyes. "it's not another jacob elordi situation, calm down."

"really? what time did we arrive at the said restaurant? where were you sitting?"

"private room. you were sat in the booth by the entrance with your back to the door," max rambles. "okay, listen. do you even know how to sift out guys?"

"do you think i'm naïve? i've dated plenty men!"

"really? but can you tell the subtext of what a guy is saying to you when you're out on a date?" george raises an eyebrow, pressing his lips together. "i didn't think so."

"you didn't even give me the chance to answer you!" she squeaks, yelping loudly when max pushes her down back into her chair. "let me go! i've got a team meeting - seb won't be happy about this."

"we're distracting him," lando grins. "let's play a game."

"no."

"anyway," george rolls his eyes, holding his arms up. "we're going to say something and you tell us what's really being said."

"no."

lando shakes his shoulders out and stretches his neck from side to side. he pops his arms out and adjusts the sleeves of his sweater. "i'm staying in a hotel right now."

"i like to travel," she points out with a small smile.

"wrong," max shakes his head disapprovingly. he immediately reaches out and presses the button, filling the room with a loud buzzer sound. "homeless. and, means he moves around a lot. unstable. red flag."

"pervert," alex nods knowingly at her with a small smile.

"guys, do you know we spent half our years in hotel rooms?" she screams, rolling her eyes. "are you kidding?"

lando pulls his sleeves up. he smiles widely. "my mum is just the most amazing woman in the world."

"family oriented. i love my mother!"

max rings the buzzer again. "virgin."

"somehow also a pervert," alex frowns.

lando straightens his shirt. he pulls his sleeves down and ruffles his hair. "i kind of prefer public transportation."

she presses her lips together. "earth conscious!"

"multiple duis," max says along with the buzzer.

alex takes the buzzer into his hands. he presses it, prolonging it. "pervert."

she stands up and takes the buzzer from alex's hands. "i hate all of you," she scolds, pointing a finger at each of them. they flinch back slightly, but george simply wraps his hand around her finger and lowers her hand with a friendly smile.

"we're just looking out for you."

"you, maybe i believe," she scoffs. "but these losers? out to bother me!" she flashes them the buzzer again. "i'm taking this with me! leave me alone!"

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @inejismywife @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

#vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #female driver #f1 female driver #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver

[thebearer]

nsfw alphabet with carmen berzatto

please minors dni 18+. smut ahead ;) enjoy!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

in the beginning, carmen was so bad at aftercare. he was a clinger and a cuddler, a little self conscious one too, but he didn't know after care was a thing really??? like would wipe you off and cuddle you, but when you started doing more intense or harsher things, you had to tell him "hey can you do a little more lol?" now, he's more thorough with a complete check afterwards. bath if you need one, food (ofc) or something to drink, more vocal too with praises and making sure you're not in a drop or shock, and still a clinger afterwards too lol.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his- his hands. he needs them to work and they're good at that apparently. good at drawing, and smoking, and holding your hand. good at smacking your ass until you cry or pulling on your hair. good at wiping your tears, holding your face in his palms, watching you suck on his fingers. watching them disappear in and out of your pussy, your arousal dripping down his wrist. he's just... he does a lot with his hands lol.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

carmen is filthy with cum. maybe it's a territorial type thing, something primal inside of him, but he will paint you with his cum. your tummy, your tits, not so much your face bc you don't like it. inside of you is his favorite, esp when he makes you keep it in there after fucking you in the office or at a dinner party in the bathroom, you have to go out and pretend like nothing happened- dripping him down your leg the entire time.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he's kinda into voyeurism??? a little bit lol. not actually in front of someone, he's too shy and possessive for that, but will finger you under the table at family dinners. likes it when you jack him off in public. having sex somewhere you might get caught, or where someone might find you or hear you. he always fucks you harder when someone might be around, lives for it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he's not super experienced by any means, but seasoned enough to know what he's doing. probably a body count of three or four before you maybe. there's still a lot of things that are new to him (esp the kinkier things the two of you get into) but he's got the basics covered.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

the hook or the shoulder holder. anything where your legs are over his shoulders, preferably thighs to your chest and he's plowing the fuck outta you. makes you go numb and he loves when your thighs squeeze around his neck, nearly makes him pass out. he can go so deep and it feels so close for the both of you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

depends on the mood. if he's being daddy carm, then he's very serious. if it's just you two fucking around or having sweet, sappy sex, then he can be a little more silly.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

trimmed but a little on the wilder side. got a bush and a happy trail that you love. when you first started dating, he would try to trim it all the way, and you had to tell him you loved it. so now he keeps it. wild curly pubes that match his hair when it grows super long. you love it when he'll let it go full bush so you can just bury your face in it lol.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

very romantic and lovey always. even after he's been a little mean to you, he is always quick to be sweet. very much so the type to say "i love you" every time in missionary... and every other position, but he's just sappy lol.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

used to jack off more when he was single and busy. less when mikey died and he took over the beef bc he was stressed to the max. now, he doesn't really ever jack off. you two fuck enough he doesn't have to, and he really doesn't have time lol.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

he's a total soft daddy dom, which might come as a shock. a little bit of a brat tamer. nothing he loves more than putting you in your place. a big fan of "fucking the fussy out out you" and embarrassing you a little. ofc it's never severe bc carmen would have dom drop like a mf, but spanking you and then making you come out to family and sitting on your stinging ass, trying to pretend like it's nothing? gets him hard all over again.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

bedroom or kitchen. depends on how you're playing and fucking, or really what he needs. he'll bend you over the kitchen counter and have you there all night, but in the bedroom, he'll take his time with you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

you. just you. the knowledge that you like him and think he's attractive and are willing to have sex with hi. sometimes when you're bratty and a little mean, it wakes up his daddy side and gets him going to tame you, but really your existence.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything super intense that would leave a lasting mark or scar. super degrading, either way, he doesn't want to make fun of you or be too mean (outside of calling you a brat and impatient), certainly doesn't want yo to say it to him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he's a chef. he likes to taste his food. loves giving you head. unbelievably good at it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on the mood. usually he'll pound you out kinda slow but enough to leave you shaky, but really depends in the vibe.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

king of quickies. in the morning before work, if you come to visit him at work, sneaking home on a lunch break, before going to a friend's house, in the car. anywhere. he just doesn't have the time all the time so quickies make it easier.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's probably like sixty/ forty on risks. yes, he'll fuck you in the dressing room while you're trying on bikinis, but no, he won't spank you with a rolling pin are you out of your mind?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

depends on how tired he is. usually two, but if he's super amped up, can go as many as you need. can go all night if he has to.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

sorta toys? has a paddle (you bought him) for when you're really bad. the wooden spoon and spatula he uses for spanking you. you had a vibrator that he'll tease you with sometimes. and he bought you a few plugs when you were anal training and bc sometimes you're a brat and he plugs you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

teasing king. endless teasing until your teary eyed and pouting and furious. the more you're on the edge, the more he likes it. likes to get you to that point you're nearly brain dead with pleasure, then will finally give in because nothing it better than watching you come undone.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's gotten better. used to be a few muffled whines and grunts that he was embarrassed of. now he dirty talks a lot. likes to kinda grunt-moan when he's fucking you, and sometimes you'll get lucky and he'll whimper right in your ear before he cums!!!

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

big fan of mirror sex. likes holding you by your jaw while he fucks you roughly, making you watch yourself come undone, all while he grunts and hisses things in your ear. "look at you, fuck. this is what i see every time. get to see you- see you like this. lookin' all pretty and fucked out."

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's def thicker than mosts. thick and veiny- like his build. uncut (that won the poll) and i feel he'd be around seven or eight inches. enough to have you gawking and like... holy shit. he thinks it's not very big or impressive and you reassure him otherwise lol.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty insatiable. esp if he's well rested and not stressed, but even on those days, he just wants to fuck lol.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he's a cuddler and he'll pillow talk for a little bit then he's out lol. to quote nicki, pussy put his ass to sleep. and it is a deep sleep every time lol.

#carmen berzatto alphabet game #thebearer #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fic #bearblahs #carmen berzatto smut #thebearerblurbs #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy smut #the bear season 2 #the bear fx #carmy the bear #the bear #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff

[lola-bunn1]

somebody that i used to know.

❥ a/n: just to clarify, this doesn't end in fluff, i MIGHT write a part 2 if it doesn't suck

part two, part three

You and Neteyam have been together for years now, you loved him and he loved you. He used to tell you how he wanted you to start Tsahik training for when he becomes the next Olo'eyktan.

He was everything to you. You were everything to him. You never left each others side

In fact, you held on to each other even more after the sky people came back for war. He was always out, fighting the battles alongside his parents and brother

You were always in the fortress, healing the others. You supported him, comforting him and telling him how proud you were of him. But in your heart, a hole was forming.

Not because of Neteyam, but because of everything.

You tried to snap yourself out of it, saying everything was fine. But you had to face it someday. You needed to tell Neteyam, perhaps he’ll agree. Perhaps, he won’t shame you, or make you feel as if you’ve done something wrong.

You sat by the tree of souls, waiting for him as always. You two come here every night to just be at peace for a moment, away from everything. Just you and him.

This was it, you’re gonna tell him. He was your mate, he’d understand!

Right?

“Hello, my love” A voice snapped you out of your thoughts, you turned to see Neteyam smiling at you, leaning down to kiss you and sitting next you

“How was it, today?” You asked, building a conversation

“I have to be honest with you, it wasn’t good.” He sighed, “A huge bomb exploded on us, many have been seriously injured and some have died…we lost a lot today.”

You held his hand and sighed, he laid his head on your lap and you began playing with his hair

“Hopefully this all will end soon” You spoke, it sounded as if you were comforting him, but you were really comforting yourself

It was quiet for a while, he was relaxed on your lap, while you were in a trance, thinking of how to tell him

“Neteyam…” You said, he hummed in response, “What if it never ends…”

“What never ends?” He asked

“The war” You responded, he looked up at you

“It will, our prayers to eywa will one day come true” He tried to comfort

He looked back down, resting his eyes

“I don’t feel safe here anymore” You whispered, he got up and cradled your face

“Oh love, nothing will happen to you—“

“No, Neteyam you’re not understanding” You snapped, gently moving his arm away, you looked around and made sure nobody was there, “I want to leave” You whispered, your eyes glossy

“Y/n, you cannot be serious” He said, you were quiet, “We cannot leave—I have a family, this is our home” He said

Your tears slid down your cheeks, he was right. He wasn’t like you, he still has his family. He still has a life here.

Your heart was aching, you don’t want to be here anymore. You wanted to leave and never come back. But how could you?

“You’re right…I’m sorry” You sobbed, he hugged you tightly, “I’m so sorry, I just—I’m sorry” You cried out as he comforted you

“It’s okay, my love. Don’t cry, it’s alright—just, don’t say stuff like that again.” He said

You let go and nodded at him, he lightly smiled at you, wiping your tears. You gently moved his head down to your lap again, playing with his hair again as you just sat there in silence, no expression on your face

Neteyam didn’t realize he had fallen asleep. When he woke up the next day, you were gone.

You wanted to leave, so desperately. You had nothing here anymore, but Neteyam had everything. So you had leave him behind too.

He went back home, a shocked look on his face.

“Neteyam! Did you sleep at Y/n’s again? Where have you been?” Neytiri asked, she then noticed the look on his face

“You okay, kid?” Jake asked, Neteyam turned to him

“She’s gone” He whispered, “She’s gone, dad!” He yelled, Jake hugged him as he began crying

Neytiri and Jake shared a look, and neither one of them knew what’s going on. But continued to comfort him

He had dreams.

Dreams of you being the next Tsahik, dreams of him starting a family with you, dreams of being together till your old and on the verge of death

But now, all of that was gone. You were gone, and it was clear you weren’t coming back.

Now, you were just somebody that he used to know.

❥ a/n: i know it’s short, but i’m thinking of making a part 2 of this, should i??

#avatar the way of water #avatar fanficiton #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you

[sssilverstoned]

sympathy for the devil ꩜ cl16

type: fluff? besties to lovers? let's say that. a friend is done dirty but is she really a friend? debatable. flashbacks, angst-ish (a guilty conscience is always a great outfit addition, no?)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: language, suggestive but no smut (finger sucking. i was in a mood,) charles is a reformed cheater, so let's say some moral ambiguity all around

lily said: hello hello! welcome to the inner workings of my hyper fixation on summer romances and a couple of bestieeeees who should just be a couple. now that this guy is out the way, i'd love to formally open requests! a drabble, fic, oneshot, hit my line ! we can get into the details of who i do and don't write for later <3

You are not a terrible person. You're not even a bad person, truly. It's something you repeat to yourself like a mantra as you look away from Charles's side profile across the long table.

He's looking like summertime, soft like an afternoon nap, but sharp like a stinging on your skin from too many 5 more minutes called from the patio. His neck is elongated slightly, trying to hear Joris's story over Mirabel's loud laughter. When he leans like that, you can see a peak of the remnants of the hickey you sucked into his pale skin the evening before. Your stomach hurts.

Charles's own nose is red, he's scrunching it on occasion like no one will notice his discomfort, and his necessity for aloe vera. You've packed it in your bag because you know he wouldn't have. He knows to ask you for it later.

You excuse yourself from the long table, your dinner in front of you looking great, but you were nowhere near hungry. When you push your chair back to stand, it makes a low noise against the floor of the garden, and his head whips to you immediately.

It was your friend group's traditional holiday you were gathered for, an annual week at Mirabel's family home right on the water. 4 girls and 5 boys, room assignments remaining relatively static throughout the years. There was that one year Clara and Sammy shared a room, but, as both of them would easily say, it wouldn't be happening again.

"Everything okay, y/n/n?" Peter asks from your diagonal, which makes more heads turn to your now standing figure. You let out an uncomfortable huff, disguised as a laugh. Charles can read you like his favorite book.

Your linen dress clings to your body, yet flows off you effortlessly. He remembers seeing it on a hook in your room, wondering how it would look on your figure when he pretended to not watch you change tops. Reality was always better than fantasy, this he knew for certain.

"I'm alright, just chilly. Want to grab my sweater."

"I'll go with you, want to charge my phone anyway," Emma smiles up at you from her seat, standing up as well.

Charles follows your figure with your eyes until you disappear into Mirabel's villa, then continues to pretend to be listening to whatever Peter has begun rambling about.

"Did you see the way he and Oliver left the pantry in disarray this morning?" Emma's practically hissing her disdain, her shorter legs pumping overtime to catch your gait. You were hoping she couldn't.

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"Charles," she gags. "Tried to cook breakfast, and of course it was shit. Can't believe you didn't know."

You did, you helped him clean it up.

"I feel like it's quite hard to burn oatmeal," you snort, scrubbing the pot.

"Too much sugar in the pot, I suppose. That's how you make yours, yes? With brown sugar?"

You look back at him from where he was leaning against the counter, watching you help him fix his mess. Oliver had cleaned up the spilled flour on the floor of the pantry, then ran out to get pastries from a bakery before the rest of the villa woke up and threatened his life.

"Surprised you remember how I like my breakfast," you say.

"Why?" he asks, cocking his head. "I know a lot about you."

You click your tongue, suddenly shy under his intentional gaze. Your focus is back on the pot, and a stubborn clump of congealed oats. Charles peers around the kitchen quickly, before coming up behind you, a large hand circling your waist.

"How did you sleep? I realize I didn't ever ask," He drops a kiss to the crown of your head when he finishes speaking, and your breath hitches. Not with love or affection, but with a strike of fear, almost. It was an open air kitchen, and while everyone seemed to be sleeping in, you never really could know who may be stirring about.

"Slept fine. Kept the windows open," you shared a room with Clara on these trips, you two were always the closest of the girls growing up and never minded sharing. She didn't say anything when you came in at 2 am with mussed hair and swollen lips, and you were grateful for it.

"You could have stayed, Joris didn't come in until late."

You finally bristle, dropping the pot onto the drying rack. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

You turn in his grasp, eyebrows frayed in the middle of your face. He hates when you look at him like this. "Y/n, we're not children anymore. We're two consenting adults."

"Emma will hate me."

"And is that worth your happiness? Whether or not your friend, who you aren't that close to, by the way, is mad at you?"

"You cheated on her, Charles."

You clear your throat as you blink away the memory. Emma scoffs again at the thought of Charles. "He even had the gall to come out on the patio at the same time as me this afternoon."

"Everyone was on the patio, Emma," you level, already getting irritated with her tone. She irritated you often, Charles wasn't necessarily wrong about your lack of proximity to her. She was always a bit bratty, but had too much history with the group to be left behind, no matter how much she seemed to irk everyone. "You can't expect him to walk on eggshells around you, he's still a part of the group."

Emma stops walking, but you keep pace. "Are you defending a cheater, y/n?" You're glad you didn't stop.

Your eye twitches, and you're glad that she can't see it. This conversation was draining you, yet it's barely started, and already, it's over. She did this nearly every time they were in the same vicinity, and it was getting old. Or maybe, it was the guilt that you were fucking her ex-boyfriend.

It was a mistake that they dated in the first place. He had just broken up with his long term girlfirend, someone you all never seemed to get along with, and Emma's eyes were always slightly googly for the boy. Her attention was more palpable, and better received, than the rest. So they began to fool around, began to hold hands a bit more at group dinners. You heard her say 'boyfriend' much more than he did, though.

The cheating was a bit egregious, even for Charles. For the sake of everyone's friendships, his romance with her was kept under wraps, the superiority of a professional PR team apparent over gossip columns and nosy fans. It was the nosy fans, unfortunately, that had found Charles in a club somewhere in Italy with his tongue down some model's throat.

She cried, shouted, did everything but rip her own hair out at the photos that surfaced. Perhaps it hurt her most that people were excited to see Charles with the woman, finally seen with someone that wasn't an engineer or Vasseur. They didn't know about her, and frankly, they never would. She was never terribly important to Charles, everyone knew that, and now she did too.

The group had moved on, sans Emma. No one really made fusses about it in the first place, their relationship running its course over only about 3 months. The boys saw it coming and, well, the girls had warned her. A rebound was always obvious to those watching.

The worst part, the part that made you feel so ill all the time, is Charles wanted to be yours, and you wanted to be anywhere but the villa.

You grab your sweater off of the chair at the vanity mirror in your room, bristling at the chill coming from the open window you had left during the night, and now day. You hear the laughter of your friends, of Peter shouting over Oliver, and Charles laughing from his belly. You hate that you can tell his laughter from the rest.

When you sit back down at the table, Clara waits for you to scoot your chair back in and place the napkin in your lap. "You lost her inside, eh?"

You crack a smile, Clara was your most blunt, and funniest, friend. "Had to, lest I hear about Charles's trespasses again."

Clara chuckles into her wine glass. "If only she knew."

In a lowered voice, you turn closer to her. "I think she may actually lose her mind if she found out, Clara."

She rolls her eyes. "Find out what? That you two are obsessed with each other, yet you won't take him seriously? That she was collateral? Shit happens."

"That's not what this is."

"Please. He'd marry you tomorrow if given the opportunity, y/n. Deep down, she knows that was never her anyway."

When you look back up at Charles, he's already looking at you, looking so endearing that you have to look back down at your chicken and roasted vegetables. You're still not hungry.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

It happened quickly, but the buildup seemed to make it inevitable. You were always a friend of the leclercs, your mother's growing an affinity for each other when you were quite young. You grew up alongside the boys, Charles always having a soft spot for you in particular. Charles escorted you every time your father hosted a gala, and voluntarily was your designated driver on nights out. One in particular, 6 months ago, sealed fates.

"Charlie, just take one shot."

"If I take a shot, I won't be driving," he laughs at you, looking at you with little twinkles in his eyes. He and Emma had just finally broken up, the past 3 months couldn't be categorized as anything but odd. After they had notified the group, in their own respective ways, you had seemed to have gotten your fun loving, a tad awkward, but always down for what you were plotting, Charlie back. He had agreed in a heartbeat to meet you and Clara at the club. It makes you grin.

"That's fine, uber exists. Have fun for once, please?" You pout, tequila speaking for you. Everything was already a bit hazy, much funnier than normal, and less serious.

"Yeah, come on Chaaaarlie," Clara giggles knowingly. He'd do anything if you asked for it, this was a fact.

With a shake of his head and faked disdain, he downs the shot, hears your cheers, and suddenly, one shot is seven and you're both screaming the lyrics to an old Fergie song that blasts through the speakers.

Heels were a bad, but stunning, idea. You felt cute and confident, but by the time you had stopped dancing like a mad person to get a drink of water, the balls of your feet began to throb.

"Please don't take your shoes off in this place," Charles begs.

"Don't be my father," you frown. "My feet hurt."

"Your feelings will be what's hurting when someone steals these off the section couch," he points to your feet, and there was a touch of validity. They were Jimmy Choos, after all, and cost more than you could comprehend. Charles often went overboard on your birthday gifts.

"I'll take that risk."

"I'll hold them."

"You won't," you say with a laugh, used to his dramatics. But he shocks you, gingerly picking them off the couch and holding them on his index and middle finger.

"Charlie, put my shoes down."

"I will do no such thing."

Somehow, somewhere between promising Clara you'd text her when the uber dropped you and Charles off at his place, helping him get the key into the lock of his door, and sitting on his kitchen island, Charles finds himself in between your legs, staring into your eyes that had glitter and mascara surrounding them.

It wasn't normal of "best friends" to be around each other like this. He knew that. He hadn't wanted to be just your best friend in a while though, but having you in that capacity was better than nothing at all. Especially when he had seemingly bounced from one girlfriend to the other, and deep down, he knew it was because he was bored. They weren't you, no matter how much imitation was attempted. Perhaps the only person who was aloof to his truest desires, was you.

"You looked very pretty tonight, y/n/n."

"You looked dashing yourself," you wink, "the girls in there told you that though, no?"

He rolls his eyes. "That wasn't anything. Just fans, same shit as usual."

"You usually are being hit on by pretty girls, is what you're saying?" You continue to tease. Charles can't stand your smart mouth sometimes, especially how much he can't help but love it.

"To be fair, I don't really notice. I'm always looking at you, anyway."

You don't have a response for that. He's never said it outright, never crossing the line. But now he has, and there's no going back.

"Charles, you just broke up with Emma."

"I know,"

"You cheated on her."

"I know,"

"I'm your best friend."

His turn to grin. "I know."

In a fashion completely unlike you, throwing caution to the wind felt like the only option, pulling him in with your legs, locking around the back of his waist, lips pressed onto his, hair between your fingers. He tastes like tequila and mint gum, like the things you regret yet adore. He wonders if this means the same to you as it means to him.

When you wake up in his bed, makeup removed and your favorite shirt of his draped over your body, you inhale deeply when you feel the familiar soreness stretching through your lower half, and the weight of his arm roped around your body. Now that you've gotten your taste, you weren't giving it up.

"Did you pack the aloe vera?" You hear him from your doorway, blinking back from yet another memory.

"'S in the bathroom, look in the blue toiletry bag," you call, not looking away from where you were taking your hooped earrings out in the mirror. It was a domestic encounter in a way, like a scene taken out of context 20 years from now. Maybe one day, you'd be on holiday with a family of your own, enjoying silence once your kids were asleep after playing in the water all day. Maybe you'd be actually sharing a room, instead of whatever the fuck this was.

"You seemed off at dinner, everything okay?" Charles asks, rubbing the gel on his soon-to-be-peeling nose.

"Fine," you shrug, turning back to look at him, and not just his reflection. "Just wasn't so hungry. And cold, like I said."

He chuckles a little to himself. "I could tell," he nods with his head down to your chest. Your nipples had pearled, and supposedly, had been pearled, and were obvious through the thin fabric of your fitting dress.

"Jesus Charles," you berate, turning back to your mirror. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm a man," he corrects. "Who's seen what's under that dress and thinks it's a great sight. But I also like your mind and your personality and all that, of course." Idiot. He sits on your bed, making himself comfortable against the headboard as he watches you get ready for bed. Domesticity. "Will you be going back to Monaco after this?"

"No, visiting Clara's family in the states for a little."

He makes a discontent noise. "How long?"

"A week," you answer. "Miami."

"Fun, going to go out?"

"What is it to you?" You ask, half jokingly, half alerted by his series of questions.

He shrugs this time. "Care about you, want to know what your plans are. Is it a crime?"

"No, just makes me fear you're in love with me."

"I'm on my way to that, I tell you that all the time. And you make jokes because you know it's true."

You stand up from the vanity, looking at him with an expression that makes his heart hurt. It's that wounded puppy look, the way you used to look at Arthur when Charles would tell him to fuck off from trying to hang out with the two of you as teenagers.

"I don't really know what to say when you say those things." He stands up from your bed, meeting you where you stand in the middle of you and Clara's room. He still smells just like all your favorite aspects of summer, and that tired look in his eyes from a day of relaxation and release melts you. "I know I'm in my head."

"'S a good head to be in." He moves the strans of your hair that were falling over your forehead behind your ear, smoothing his fingers over your jawline until his fingers lift your chin. "That's better. Couldn't see your face."

"What is this, Charlie?" Your eyes search his, and he hates how scared you look. "Like, seriously. We, we fuck, we sleep in the same bed more than we don't."

"We always have done that, you've shared with Enzo and Arthur before too I'm sure."

"Don't be dense."

"I think that's just how I am, mon amour."

"Such a shithead," you mutter with a huff, annoyed with his smug expression. "I'm being serious. If sex is just what you want, or need, right now, I don't think I can do this anymore."

"It's much more than that to me, don't insult me," He no longer has a grin on his face, mouth turned much more stoic. "My actions precede me, yes," you withold commentary on that, "but I'd never do anything to hurt you, y/n/n. I care about you, think about you all the time, want you wherever I am, always."

A part of you thinks this is what you've always wanted to hear. A gorgeous, successful, personable man who you've grown to trust infallibly your whole life is 5 feet short of professing his love for you, and yet, you can't let yourself fully be happy. Because for the last 6 months, you've ducked and dodged your own friends, not wanting them to know about the two of you. He did cheat, for crying out loud. On someone you have baby photos with. No matter how annoying, or selfish, she comes off, Emma wasn't going anywhere in your life. And you'd be devastated if she did this to you, so he remained your dirty little secret.

"Am I interrupting?" Clara says teasingly from the doorway, a wine glass still in her hands. "Sorry, Mirabel wanted me to check on you."

You clear your throat and step away from Charles. "Not at all. Charlie's got a sun burn."

"Ah. You are pale," Clara notes. "Figures."

"Thanks, Clar."

"Still drinking?" You nod toward her glass. "Pour me one, will you?"

"Sure will." She turns, and you make to follow.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, I think."

"Y/n,"

"Not right now," you say firmly, "please?"

And you've got that withered look, that look that screams exhaustion. Guilt's gonna kill him one day, he's sure.

"Fine."

And with that, you head out the door, leaving Charles in your room, regretting not telling you how he felt about you when his girlfriend told him to. Before Emma took that mantle instead, and before you started looking at him like it was hard to do so.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

Sammy brings it up first, but the entirety of the day was the beginning of the end of secrecy.

The next day had been decided as a boat day, everyone prepared for another long day in the sun, this time on the open waves. The girls had all gone below deck, in search of champagne and a bottle opener, and Sammy and Charles were far enough from Oliver, Joris, and Peter for them to hear a conversation.

"I've got a question I think," Sammy asks. He makes an affirmative noise, head leaned back against the cushions of the lounger, sunglasses sliding down his still peeling nose. "Are you and y/n hooking up?"

Charles immeditely looks up at Sammy, mouth open in a scramble for the most believable way to say no. "No, ah, why would you say that?" oh dear.

"Mate," Sammy winces.

"Fuck me," Charles yanks the glasses off and wipes both hands over his face. He keeps them there when he asks, "how?"

"Leaving hickeys is one thing, her jewelry on your bedside table is another." The central heating unit for their floor was in Joris and Charles's room, Sammy did go to adjust it yesterday morning. Fuck. "Does Emma know?"

"No," Charles says quickly. "No. Y/n doesn't want anyone to."

Sammy quirks his mouth to the side. "Well, are you dating?"

"No,"

"Ah." Sammy looks out on the water, stewing over this confirmed theory of his. You all suddenly appear from inside, cheering with a bottle clutched in Emma's hand, you with the opener. When he looks back at Charles, he sees that even though all four of you stand there he's looking at you. This must be sympathy for the devil, Sammy thinks, because why else is he feeling bad for someone whose problem was multiple attractive women had feelings for him?

"Charlie, can you help?" you pout, unable to get the cork loose from the bottle. It was obvious you were tipsy, drunk even, you all had been drinking since the sun came up.

"Fucks sake y/n, use your arm!" Clara groans. Sammy looks back at Charles, willing him with his brain to not be at your beck and call for once.

"I've got it," Charles chuckles, like an idiot, if you ask Sammy. He pops it, a cheer coming from the group at the appearance of bubbles and spray. It gets all over his hands as he attempts to hold the bottle away from his body, and he shakes the excess off as the cheers continue. Oliver whisks the bottle away to be divied up between everyone's cups, and Charles goes inside to wash his hands off. You slink off behind him, unbeknownst to him, or the rest of your friends, except for Emma, whose interest is piqued by your sudden absences.

"Thanks for the help," your voice is sweet in the silence of the kitchenette.

His head whips to your figure, slightly startled by your presence. You're barefoot, a brown bikini only covering what's absolutely necessary to be covered. He can't tell if he loves it or he hates it. Your open button up shirt tossed on as a cover up intrigues him, because, is that his?

"Is that my shirt?" Charles repeats, out loud this time, eyes trained like heat seekers as you move close. His hands lay in the towel, champagne still dripping off his fingers. You've seemed to have distracted his process.

"No, but it seems like you would love it if it was."

He raises his shoulders. "You're welcome to them."

You hum, "good to know." You're looking at him like prey, it makes his throat dry and he's not sure what to say. You're always the bubbly one, the sunshine when he's being grumpy and difficult.

Charles lifts his hands from the towel that he still hasn't utilized yet, pushing his luck by placing a hand on your hip. He plays with the string on your right hip, fingers begging to untie the bow. "You only like talking to me when we're in kitchens, huh?"

He makes you laugh with that, or maybe it's the alchohol making you do it. "I always like talking to you. It's you that can't keep hands to yourself."

A hand slides up his chest, resting casually, yet his heart races faster. That familiar, warm feeling settles in his lower stomach, and he wills himself not to harden like a teenager. "We both have a problem with hands, I see."

You tilt your head in challenge. You pull his hand off of your hip and lift it, analyzing the digits still drenched in champagne. And to his utter surprise, you take his index finger into your mouth. The eye contact you hold as you do so has his mouth dropping open slightly in a daze, mind going to static as he feels the warmth and wetness, the pucker of your lips. You hum as you release his finger with a pop, licking your lips.

"Don't think I have a problem with your hands at all, Charles."

Charles, not Charlie. He's ruined.

How you saunter away after that leaves him gobsmacked, flustered, and most of all, hoping this boat would be docking soon.

꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜꩜

"I have an offer for you," is how you start the conversation. You're all showered, evening attire thrown on and awaiting the metaphorical dinner bell. The two of you plus Peter were sat out on the patio, and were left alone when Peter ran in to the bathroom for a moment.

"When I come back home, we should go on date."

Charles thinks he mishears you. "What?"

"A date, Charlie. You know, when two people who share a romantic interest go out toge-"

"Enough, smartass," He stops your condescension. "You would go on one with me?"

You take a deep breath. "Yeah, I would. I like you, and all that."

"And all that," he repeats. "What every man wants to hear."

"Do you want to go on the date or not?"

"I do, I really do. Have wanted to for a while, you know."

You smile softly, resting your head on the lounger. "I know."

"Dinner's ready," Emma comes out to announce. When she sees it's only the two of you, her expression changes slightly, something only you'd notice after years of experiencing emotions from her. "Where's Peter?"

"Bathroom," you answer easily. Emma looks at the two of you intently, and Charles turns towards the water, not really interested in making conversation with the woman who's profusely stated her aversion to him.

"Hm. Well, come down soon."

When she closes the glass doors, Charles all but laughs out loud. "What a nightmare."

"Your ex," you rebut, "can't believe that to this day. If you didn't like her, why'd you do it?"

"Because I didn't think I could have you."

His veins fill with regret when he says it, he knows its not fair. But it's true, you know it as well. "Well, no more collateral damage, then." You stand up from the lounger, brushing down your dress. "Pick a good restaurant for the date."

Dinner begins well, Mirabel telling stories and Oliver denying them all. It's when the laughter dies down after Joris recounts their last trip to Nice that things begin to slant.

"Y/n/n," Emma calls from down the table. You turn to her, as everyone does.

"Yeah, Em?"

"I just have been dying to know," she starts, clasping her hands under her chin. "How long have you and Charles been fucking?"

Peter chokes on his wine. The table is utterly silent, and everyone's face carries the same shocked expression. And, wow, you've pictured this moment dozens of ways and hundreds of times, but honestly, this one was rare form. But after everything, especially today, caution was once again to the wind.

"About 6 months," you calmly answer, reaching for your glass. "Give or take."

"You bitch," she hisses. "Are you not even ashamed of yourself?"

"Are you not going to address Charles in the slightest, or is it just y/n's fault that they have sex?" Clara asks, and Mirabel and Oliver can't help the snicker in their chests. Sammy takes another piece of salmon from the middle platter.

"Yes, I could have said something," you mull.

Emma looks around, utter disbelief on her face as it seems everyone's refusing to intervene on this one. You can't blame them, and those who did know, well, their wine glasses are filled.

Emma gets up from the table with a curse of Charles's name and a disgusted look your way, and Clara clears her throat.

"So, anyone have any recommendations for clubs in Miami?"

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 1566

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

Please Read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 2

The journey to the bunker was pretty uneventful, with Sam and Charlie chatting amongst themselves in the front of the car whilst both myself and Dean sat miserably next to each other in the back like a couple of criminals who’d been arrested. The chains on my handcuffs jangled as I rubbed my sore knuckles; the skin raw, bruised and red from either my own blood or - most likely - Deans. As I did, I could feel a red hot glare burning into the side of my face from the older Winchester, as though he was in disbelief that I even had the audacity to feel any pain or discomfort right now as dark red scabs formed on his nose and cheek. We pulled up next to the bunker, and I didn’t get much chance to look at the surrounding scenery as the moment we were parked, the golden retriever duo up front hopped out, slammed their doors shut and threw ours open, Sam gently yet firmly grasping my elbow and pulling me to my feet whilst Charlie did the same for Dean. We were marched into the building and we soon arrived in what I assumed to be the kitchen. Sam pushed gently on my shoulder, urging me to take a seat at the table to which I obliged with Dean following suit and taking a seat opposite me. We stared each other down from across the table for a few moments, the atmosphere growing thicker by the second as his brilliant green eyes pierced mine.

“Enough the pair of you!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Look, I’ve got some things to say before we release you both back into the wild. It won’t take long,” she sighed and rubbed her temples. “I wanted to introduce you guys to (Y/n) because I thought you would get along! With your shared interest in hunting, bootcut jeans, rock music and most importantly - pie.”

Dean and I shot each other a quick glance before looking away again. Charlie continued.

“You’ve had one disagreement, and even though I was impressed by the performance it definitely didn’t warrant the carnage. You’re both adults, so act like it and stop bickering like children. You’re going to be living and working together now so you’re both just going to have to suck it up and move on.”

Sam stepped forward; “I agree with Charlie. (Y/n) you have no idea how much of a help you being here is going to be. We’ve been going around in circles for months and we really need a fresh pair of eyes. Plus you get free food and board, if that helps,” he grinned slightly trying to lighten the mood. I humoured him and softened my eyes, raising my eyebrows in acknowledgment to the pros of staying here.

“Right,” he clapped his hands together, “we’re going to remove the tape and you’re both going to be civilised. You promise?”

I gave Dean one final long, hard stare before nodding.

”Good,” Sams soft cool fingers grazed my cheek as he pulled up the corner of the tape, gently peeling it back until it was removed and I could finally take a deep breath. Meanwhile, Charlie approached Dean and in one swift movement ripped the tape from his mouth in under a second.

“FUCK!” He cried out as he tenderly touched his now extra sore swollen lips. I couldn’t help but smirk.

“Right, I’m going to go and get (Y/n)s belongings from the motel room she’s staying in and check her out then I’ll be right back with all her stuff. I’ll see you guys later!” And before I could even protest for her to take me with her, she’d turned on her heel and hightailed it out of the bunker, leaving Sam to undo our cuffs and set us free.

“That bitch,” I sighed, huffing a strand of hair out of my face. Sam knelt before me, that kind look in his eye ever twinkling.

“(Y/n) I promise you that you're safe here. It’s warded to the teeth and full of everything we need to survive. We’ve got you,” he patted my knee before taking my hands in his, using a small key to finally undo the cuffs right before they clattered to the floor. I leant down to pick them up, and by the time I’d sat back up to place them on the kitchen table, he was already beside Dean doing the same for him. His own cuffs removed and rubbing his wrists, he stood, looking from me to Sam a few times before speaking.

“Well I’ve already suffered enough today so I’m going to spend time coming up with a better excuse as to why I look like this,” he gestured to his beaten face and turned to leave, mumbling a quick ‘see ya later’ to Sam before leaving the kitchen. Sam stood awkwardly for a second, before declaring that he was going to get some lunch for everyone and also scurried away, leaving me completely alone in alien territory. I was still sat at the table as I began to look around.

This place was a dump.

How did these grown ass men live in conditions like this? The dirty dishes were piled so high that it was a surprise they hadn’t toppled over yet. Empty beer bottles cluttered the table and countertops, the bin was overflowing with bulging bin bags dumped right next to it without being taken outside and the smell was starting to make me feel a little nauseous. How does Sam expect us all to eat and live together in conditions like this? It was like living with a couple of wild animals. After a few silent moments to myself I released a breath I’d been holding whilst I pondered. I ran my hands through my hair and laughed at myself in disbelief. I’m gonna have to clean the fucking kitchen. Without giving it a second thought and running the risk that I’d change my mind, I scooped my hair into a high ponytail using the bobble on my wrist and pushed up my sleeves, finding a pair of rubber gloves under the sink. Let’s clean this bitch.

*

In the space of about an hour and a half (a gruelling hour and a half), I’d washed and dried the dishes, putting them away in their respective places, taken out all the trash and lined the bin with a fresh bag, scrubbed and disinfected every surface and had even mopped the floors. The smell of rotting trash was dissipating and the urge to claw off my own skin had gone. I’d propped the mop against the wall and stepped back to admire my hard labour when I heard a door open and close, the entering footsteps heading my way. Sam emerged into the kitchen, a stunned look on his face as he walked to the table slowly, placing about 6 bags of ‘groceries’ on its surface. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he was searching for the right things to say.

“You’re welcome,” I cut in, hoping to help him find his words.

“Yeah, thank you! I’m sorry, I didn't know what to say - you really didn’t have to do this. It’s embarrassing that you were even put in a situation where you felt you had to,” he grimaced a little, only now realising what a horror show it was that they were living in. “But seriously thank you, I really appreciate it,” he smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. Sam was sweet and easy to like - unlike his Neanderthal brother. I felt like I could trust him.

I peeled my gloves off, threw them in the bin and approached the kitchen table where Sam was pulling out a case of beer.

“Here, you deserve one of these,” he said, handing me one. The bottle was nice and cool on my hot fingertips, my warm skin instantly relishing the coldness.

“Thank you,” I smiled before popping the cap and taking a long, well deserved drink. I savoured the moment, genuinely appreciating Sam’s gesture. Although all nice moments comes to an end, and soon Dean was striding into the room bold as brass, seating himself at the table and helping himself to a beer without so much as a hello. It wasn’t until he’d drained half the bottle in one gulp that he realised the kitchen was clean. He grinned and looked at his brother.

“Hey, nice job Sammy! It looks great in here, I owe you one,” he raised his bottle as if making a small toast whilst Sam’s eyes flicked to mine.

“Uh, Dean… this wasn’t me. You need to thank (Y/n) for that,” Deans grin faulted slightly as he looked between the two of us before it returned. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in suspicion. His forest green eyes pierced into mine as he almost purred his next sentence.

“Well, Sammy, it looks like we’ve bagged ourselves a maid. Does she cook too?”

I slammed my bottle on the table, much like I did earlier. Only Sam flinched.

“I’m not your fucking maid,” I snarled, resenting that shit-eating grin on the older Winchesters lips. He chuckled, the sound coming deep from within his chest as he rose to his feet.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

——————————————————————

Taglist: @creative-writing92 @suckitands33

——————————————————————

Up Next:

Chapter 3

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x female!reader #enemies to lovers #Dean Winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #slow burn