#and theres four (five) of them and everything!!!!

[zxal]

Four swords manga redraw with the heart hotel i've been wanting to do for ages ft. strelitzia who doesn't know any of the lore

#kingdom hearts #kh #sora #roxas #xion #ventus #strelitzia #long time no art.......i was in a zelda mood. so obviously i draw kh #four swords is so dear to me i had to reread it #and theres four (five) of them and everything!!!! #youll have to imagine vanitas as shadow link for me bc i dont have it in me today #my art #kh art

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Great Balls Of Fire

Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 9k words (ik. i did it again. im sorry)

summary: It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.

a/n: smut ahead. 18+ im serious theres smut theres a lot of smut. okay. as usual i will now list everything you may have to look out for

fancy ass lingerie, oral sex fem!receiving, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyre in a committed relationship theyve had the talk and all), a lot of begging, hair pulling, good girl's because yes, in general again bradley is a talker, otherwise that's it

top gun masterlist

It had been so long. It had been too long.

With the sun beating down hard on the pavement of the parking lot, the sunglasses on your nose doing their hardest to protect your eyes from the worst of the light, the sound of your heels clicking against solid ground as you took a few steps into the shade of the tree next to Bradley's Bronco. You had been waiting for ten minutes now, checking your phone what seemed like every five seconds, too nervous to actually pay attention to it but too nervous to keep calm either.

You had been so scared you would crash into a grandma on the way over here that you had honestly considered taking your own car instead of the Bronco - but Bradley had trusted you with it, had trusted you to keep his lady running, you, even though he never let anyone else as much as touch the steering wheel, and you would be damned if you didn't pick him up in it.

You hadn't seen him in four months. Four months.

You had been by yourself, had been on your own, had been lonely for four fucking months.

But today was the day you would see him again. Today was the day his oh-so-secret mission would finally, truly come to an end, the day that you would finally, truly see him again. Not over some low-quality video call in the middle of the night, with only your kitchen lights on in the background and your mind hazy and tired because he was nine hours ahead of you and seemed to be at the other end of the world - no, today you would finally, finally, finally see him in the flesh.

You'd been anticipating this moment for the past four months.

So this had to be perfect.

This would be perfect.

You had done everything possible to make this the most perfect day of his goddamn life. You had spent the last four months moving things from the old apartment to the new house - those things that you and him hadn't already moved anyway - and the past week, you'd been cleaning, decorating, anticipating.

He had told you so often how much he missed you. How much he wished he had been there for you, to help you pack the things, to help you take them apart and put them back together, to do more than just the paperwork and set up the bed and the couch.

But he couldn't. And now you were bubbling with nervous excitement, with the joy of sharing all of it with him, to show him the desk you'd put up in the bedroom, the pillows you'd bought for the couch, the paintings you'd hung up on the walls, the kitchen table you'd replaced, the kitchen tiles you'd painted. To show him how much better this new home was than the old apartment had been (even though you'd been very happy there for the past four years as well).

And Bradley would love it. You were sure of that.

You just wanted him to see it so desperately.

You looked up as another car approached - it wasn't Bradley, you knew that, Bradley would come out of that door opposite you, not out of a car, but... There was still some tiny little sliver of hope, the same way there had been every single goddamn time someone had rung your doorbell. It had only ever been the postman or your food.

The car stopped next to you. You watched the engine being turned off and the driver get out because, well, what else was there to do except nervously shift your weight from one leg onto the other and go insane?

So you watched the stranger hop out of their car, nodded politely at them and then refocused your attention on the tips of your sandals. At least you weren't the only one waiting here anymore.

You got out your phone again, checked the time (it'd been a minute and a half since you'd last looked at it) and let out a sigh.

It wasn't that Bradley was late. There wasn't really a "late" anyway, he'd only been able to give you a vague time he'd arrive on, but still. You'd been buzzing with nervous energy for over a week.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, wiped your sweaty palms off on the sundress you'd put on - the tiny yellow sundress that Bradley had picked out for you on your birthday last year. The tiny yellow sundress that hid the sinful white lingerie under it just perfectly. The sinful white lingerie that you had bought for this very moment.

Bradley would go feral for it, you knew that. He loved white. You thought it was because it looked innocent, chaste. Like something untainted, something waiting to be ruined. Not that you minded. One day, he had promised himself, he would admit to you that it was because it looked like something you would wear on your wedding night.

But either way, you had gone shopping for the perfect set of lingerie and you were more than happy with your final choice.

Bradley could unwrap you like a present. You were desperately hoping he would unwrap you like a present.

You had spent the last four months not doing anything other than hoping. Imagining. Remembering.

So you weren't surprised that you felt like you'd soaked through those pretty (and expensive) panties already.

Your breath hitched. You shifted your weight again.

Bradley would carry you in his big, strong arms over the doorstep, would push you against the wall, would take everything he wanted from you and give everything you needed - he'd pull your dress right off and, at the sight of your lingerie, would fuck you raw.

You had to bite down on your lip to keep you grounded. Four months away had been a long, long time. Four months in which you'd only had yourself, your fingers, your vibrator to keep you company - four months in which you'd only heard Bradley's moans spill over the phone, had only heard him call you honey and good girl through a low-quality mic, had only seen him on pictures he'd left you, on a tiny screen at best.

You were depraved. And pretty sure you'd fall apart at the first touch.

You were so immersed in your thoughts, in that lovely imagery you had created in your head, that you almost missed the door opening. Finally. Finally. You straightened up at once.

It wasn't Bradley who stepped out first - it was one of his colleagues, you guessed, with blonde hair and much shorter - but it was Bradley who stepped out second. You'd know him from miles away.

He strode out of the door and into the sunlight, all familiar brown curls and broad shoulders and Ray-Bans on his nose and an Hawaiian shirt on and his bag lazily slung over his shoulder and that moustache - by god you'd have killed him if he'd shaved that off!

He turned his head and looked at you and a grin broke out on your lips, so wide, so incredibly wide that it felt like it'd split your face in half and before you could think, before you could form any coherent thought you were already moving, your legs with a mind of their own. You were sprinting towards him. Sprinting all through the parking lot, your heels click-clicking on the pavement, and Bradley grinned, grinned and let his bag fall to the ground carelessly, opened his arms instead. Wide, so wide. He was so tall. So broad. So inviting as you ran at him, as you jumped at him, as you wrapped your arms and your legs around him at the same time, as he caught you effortlessly, as your lips landed on his.

As you crashed into him, completely, and he didn't even stagger an inch back.

You had missed four months of this.

And now his lips were on yours. Your legs around his waist. Your arms crossed behind his neck. His breath against your mouth. His lips parted. His tongue against yours.

You were desperate. And you could feel just how desperate he was, too.

You could feel all the passion, all the fiery, red passion, all the force and firmness put into this kiss as his tongue ran along yours, as your breaths met and mingled, as his hands dug into your thighs to keep you upright, to keep you snug to him.

You pulled back incredibly reluctantly. You didn't want to let go of him. You never wanted to let go of him ever again. You wanted to have him, all of him, right here, right now, and then for eternity. But you couldn't, you couldn't because this was the middle of the parking lot, and also because you at least wanted to say hello first.

So you blinked open your eyes and took him in and allowed yourself to grin as broad and as wide as you needed to right now.

"You're back", you whispered, just because that realisation still had to sink in. "You're really back."

Bradley nuzzled your nose with his and let out a hum - god, how you'd missed him. The feel of him, the sound of him.

"Yeah, I'm here, honey", he muttered, that smile of his dripping down onto his voice. "I'm here and I won't leave any time soon."

You couldn't help but lean in again, couldn't help but capture his lips again because how else, how on earth would you let him feel all the joy you were experiencing right now? You didn't even know if you could actually feel all of it. You definitely wouldn't be able to put it into words. So you dug your teeth into his bottom lip and sighed into him and pulled him closer, closer and closer, even further into you.

"I missed you", you breathed against his mouth. "I love you and I missed you, Bradley."

He chuckled, kissed you again, drew back just enough to still touch you somehow, to still have his lips on your skin somehow and be able to talk at the same time.

"I love you so much, honey", he muttered. "And I missed you so much."

And then his lips were on yours again, his fingers digging even harder into your thighs, his breath and his tongue and his moustache scratching against your skin and you moaned, because there was no more anything you could possibly have done, because you couldn't help yourself, because you couldn't stop yourself, because you didn't want to either. You wanted to let him know just how goddamn fucking much you'd missed him.

Bradley had to bite back a laugh, pulled back and looked at you through his sunglasses.

"Sounds like we should get home, honey", he said, his eyebrows raised and his smile deepening with every word. "Been waiting for that for four months."

You let out another soft moan, pushed yourself even closer to him, dug one hand into the back of his hair and scratched the other down his shoulders, down his shirt. You wanted to feel him. All of him. God, the ride home would take ten minutes. Ten minutes. How were you supposed to survive that?

"Please", you whispered onto his lips, and you didn't think you had ever meant it as much as you did now.

Bradley groaned and kissed you again, quickly, heatedly, his tongue running along your bottom lip and then pulling back again. This wasn't enough. This wasn't enough.

He set you down on the pavement again softly, your legs a bit wobbly, unsteady, and trailed one hand from your thigh to your back - anything to keep touching you as he bent down to pick up his bag again. You smiled up at him, smoothed down the front of your dress and beamed as his eyes traveled down your body.

When they snapped back up to catch your gaze, the grin on his face had turned into a much more intense expression.

"You look gorgeous, honey", he muttered, tugging you further into his side, letting his eyes drop down to your chest again. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from jumping at him right this second. He should not have been allowed to just look at you if you couldn't have him touch you too. "Did you pick out new nail polish just for this dress?"

Your grin broadened. Of course he'd notice. Bradley Bradshaw was the only man in the whole universe who would notice. And he was yours.

"Yes, I did", you smiled, looking up at him as he walked with you back to the car. He hummed softly.

"It works great together", he said. Your breath hitched. He was gorgeous and he was here and he had noticed your nail polish. He was perfect. And you wanted him to fuck your brains out. "Reminds me of your burgundy silk dress."

You had to bite down on your lip again - god, you hadn't done that nearly as often when he'd been away! - to keep yourself grounded and to keep your grin in check before it could truly split your face in half.

Your burgundy silk dress was the one you'd worn to Penny and Mav's wedding two years ago that you had spent three weeks hunting down matching lipstick and matching nail polish for. Bradley had worn that lipstick on the base of his cock for most of the night.

"You're incredible, do you know that?", you asked, your voice a bit breathy. Bradley stopped in front of the Bronco, turned to you and pulled you close again. You brought your hands up to his chest.

"I've been told", he muttered, tilted his head down to look at you and then leaned down even further to brush a kiss to your nose. "Open up the Bronco so I can put my bag in the trunk?"

You let your eyes flutter close for just a tiny little moment (he was close, so close and you would literally die if he didn't start touching you any time soon) and breathed in as Bradley chuckled. You'd put the key in your pocket and were scrambling to get it out now, taking one, two seconds too long before you heard the familiar click of the car unlocking.

"Thanks, pretty girl", Bradley mumbled, letting go of you to pull open the trunk and you had to push down a sigh of disappointment, even as anticipation rose up in your stomach. You hadn't heard him call you pretty girl in months.

When he turned back around to you, you were still frozen in spot, still smiling dumbly at him, still waiting for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you. He smiled back and you knew that he knew just what you were thinking. But you couldn't even begin to care. You wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.

"You need to stop looking at me like that, honey", he said, his voice an octave deeper and you just so managed not to let another dumb, pathetic moan slip. He closed the trunk and took a step back to you. "You know I can't help myself when you look at me like that."

At that, you did let the moan tumble from your lips after all.

He'd been away for four months. And he was looking at you with his eyes all dark and his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling heavily. How on earth were you supposed to be normal about this? You were falling apart already and he hadn't even got you home. Four months had been a long, long time.

His hands were on your waist then, forcing you against the side of the bronco, the door handle digging into your back, the metal warmed up by the sun and your arms crossing behind his neck as his body crowded yours, one leg between yours and no more space to touch, to feel, to see anything that wasn't him - he turned his head to check if the other car had driven away and then his lips were on yours, his knee pressing against your centre.

"Bradley", you moaned into his mouth, before his tongue brushed yours and rendered you speechless. You rocked against his knee, bare skin against your thighs and you wanted to sob, you really actually wanted to sob, because this was the most contact you'd gotten in four fucking months.

Bradley pulled back an inch.

"You're soaked", he groaned against your lips, his breath on your skin, his hands on your waist and you thrust your head back against the car, against the window, squeezed your eyes shut, kept on rocking against his knee.

"I know", you whined. "Been soaked for months."

Bradley let out another groan and pulled back, pulled away from you and you whimpered, blinking your eyes open again because you'd been so close to finally getting what you wanted and now he was taking that right away from you again. You looked up at him and the only reason you didn't straight up voice your disappointment was that he looked just as debauched as you felt - running his hands through his hair, running them over his face, his curls all messed up and a considerable bulge already visible in his jeans.

"Get in the car", he rasped, taking another step back from you as though he had to physically put distance between the two of you so he wouldn't give in and take you right in this parking lot. Not that you would've minded. That other car was long gone. But that he had to restrain himself so much, that he looked so positively exhausted, that his voice was so hard and so rough and so raw, that he had already, so easily begun giving you orders drove you crazy. Orders that you knew you had to follow because this was him, this was Bradley, and if he wanted something from you.... he'd get it. You'd give it to him no matter what. You'd give him everything.

So you pushed yourself off the car with a hard breath and trailed around to the passenger side, keeping your eyes on the ground even as you heard Bradley shuffle and open the driver's door because you knew that if you looked at him, no matter how much you wanted to follow his commands, there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to help yourself.

It wouldn't be the first time.

The seat felt hot and your skin sticked to it immediately and you would have cared in any other situation, but not in this one. Not when Bradley put his hand to your thigh, to your bare skin, to just below the hem of your dress. You could have cried.

He was here, finally, and he was touching you, finally, but he wasn't touching you enough, not nearly enough. This would be a long ten minutes. You pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, turned your head and rested it against the head rest, smiling at the image before you - Bradley in the driver's seat of his Bronco, the steering wheel in one hand, the sun on his face, his curls longer than when you'd last seen them. Had he got more tan? Was that possible?

God, how you'd missed this man.

And he was here now, here, next to you, with one hand on your thigh and a grin playing on his lips and you couldn't help but smile. Big and broad and all-consuming because he was here again, this man that you called yours, he was right here next to you after four months. You loved him. You'd missed him so incredibly much.

His hand moved a little higher up on your thigh, his thumbs brushing, stroking over exposed skin, raising up your dress the slightest bit. Your breath hitched.

"Bradley-", you sighed, jaw clenching as you melted, melted at every little touch because you didn't have to only remember it anymore. You could just push up into him, watch him, breathe in his familiar scent, run your fingers along his arm. This was no more imagining, no more picturing, this was real, this was happening.

"God, I missed you saying my name like that", he groaned, tightening his grip on your thigh and you bit down on your lip, wrapped your fingers around his biceps, his wrist, forced yourself to keep your eyes open so you could keep watching him. You wouldn't miss out on a single second of watching him.

"Bradley", you repeated softly. "I'll say your name as often as you want me to."

His fingers dug even harder into your thigh as he let out some strangled sounding moan.

"You're gonna be the death of me", he muttered - how often you'd thought the same about him! "I'm lucky if I can hold out these ten minutes."

You watched him quietly for a second. You could sense the heat radiating off of him, could see his clenched jaw, could feel his deathgrip on your thigh, could hardly ignore the blazing arousal in your own veins. But if he'd wanted to fuck you in the back of his Bronco, he would've. (As picky as he was about who drove his car, he'd never had a single problem railing you into oblivion in the backseat.) There was a reason he was holding out. You could only guess that he wanted to do this properly - with time and room and no risk of getting caught by the authorities. Should you have minded? Should you have begged him to take you as quickly as possible? You were sure he would have, if you'd pleaded prettily enough. But you were quite alright with time and room and no risk of getting caught. At least for right now. The both of you would manage a ten minute ride, right? You had managed four months. Ten minutes were nothing in comparison.

"Okay", you said, trailed your fingers down to his and intertwined your hands. "I'll help. I'll tell you something. Distract you."

"You can try, honey", he chuckled, sneaked a quick sideways glance at you. "Tell me about the house."

You lit up at that. You had been dying to tell him about the house. So you pushed your arousal deep, deep down (which was easier said than done) and smiled up at him.

"I don't even know where to start", you said honestly, giving yourself a second to think about it. You had ten minutes, after all. And you had to fill them all if you wanted both of you to survive this drive.

So you told him about everything.

The short version, of course.

He'd heard some of it over the phone already, but he hadn't been able to call often and you'd spent most of your time crying and telling him how much you loved and missed him when he had answered, so...

The ten minutes went by more easily this way. You went on and on and on and on about the house, his fingers between yours, your eyes locked on his, with the occasional comment about how sorry he was that he hadn't been there to help. It had been unfortunate, of course, but at the same time it had given you something to put all your time and effort into, which had greatly helped you through his deployment. Plus, there had always been help when you had needed it - Penny and Amelia and Mav, Phoenix and Bob and Jake. The rest of the squad had been scattered, called off to their own missions, but those six you had been able to count on whenever.

Bradley's hand on your thigh was still highly distracting. He moved it up and down a few times, and each time your breath hitched, each time you stumbled over your own words, each time he grinned again.

At one point, his fingertips brushed so close to your underwear that you pushed his hand forcefully back down to your knee. He had been the one so worried he wouldn't manage a ten minute ride and now he was the one teasing you.

Not that you really minded.

But you truly felt like going insane.

Then, finally! you caught sight of your driveway. Bradley was out of the car the second he'd parked it, pulling his hand from your thigh and the key out of the ignition and you had barely unbuckled yourself when he was already opening your door, taking your hand and tugging you out, sending you stumbling into him, into his arms.

He pressed his lips to yours as he pushed the door close, pushed you up against it again, pushed the hem of your dress up to grasp at your bare thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forced him even closer.

"Bradley", you gasped softly. You hadn't moaned his name like that in four months, you'd do it so often today he would get tired of it. Even though you knew that he wouldn't, of course - he would never get tired of you whispering his name into his mouth, into the nothingness of an empty room, into his ear, into the pillows.

He didn't pull back from you, even as he took a slow, careful step away - making sure you'd catch on, making sure you'd follow, making sure to keep you safely, steadily against him. Not that you'd have done anything else. You trusted him with your life, you would trust him to keep you upright. So you did just what he wanted, followed, stumbled with him, eyes closed, lips on his, fingers brushing along his shoulders.

He did pull back then - just an inch or two, to turn you around, to look over your shoulder once, to tear his hand from your thigh and wrap his arms around you instead. And then his lips were back on yours again and his tongue running along yours. He pushed and you followed his wordless command, your legs working quicker than your mind, stumbling, tripping backwards, backwards, backwards and you barely cared, barely even acknowledged the ground beneath your feet because you were wrapped up in his arms, because you were tugging at his curls, because he was here, kissing you, finally.

You weren't needy.

You were desperate. You were depraved, frantic, starved. He was the air you needed to breathe and you hadn't taken a single breath in the past four months.

So you weren't pretending in the way you pulled him close, closer, closer, or in the frenzied way you kissed him, or in the desperate way you sighed, groaned, moaned against him, into him. You needed him. You needed more of him. All of him. You needed to get inside so you could have him.

You bumped into the door then, just short of digging the doorknob into your spine - Bradley pushed you right up against it and you gasped into his mouth, into the kiss. He crowded you against the door much like he'd crowded you against the Bronco, pulling his arms from around you to grasp your waist instead, to press your hips up to the door as well, and used one hand to fumble for the keyhole. He did so blindly, with his eyes still closed, his lips still on yours, with one of your legs coming up to wrap around his hips, your heels digging into his shorts.

Needless to say, he needed quite some time to turn the key.

You didn't mind. Not in the slightest.

You were making out with Bradley Bradshaw right on the doorstep of the house you shared with him, in the bright afternoon sunlight and truly, you couldn't have minded less. You didn't give two fucks about any of your neighbours or any passerbys spotting you - should they, by god! Bradley had come home from deployment after four months, you would make out with him on your doorstep for as long as you wanted to. You wouldn't ever stop making out with him ever again.

Not when he was here again, in your arms, with your fingers tugging at his hair, brushing along his neck, stroking along the collar of his shirt, sweeping along his shoulders. Not with your leg around his hips. Not with your lips on his. Not with anticipation, with arousal in every fibre of your body, of your soul. You were going mad with it. You were getting drunk on it.

You were euphoric when Bradley finally opened the gods damned front door.

He kept you safe and steady even as the support at your back broke away, as you almost crashed onto the floor of your own hallway. He walked you back into the pleasant cold and for once, for the first and probably the only time, you were the one to break away. You gave yourself a second to catch your breath. Then you pushed off of him completely. You took a step away, pulled the key from the door, pushed it close and when you turned back around, Bradley had set his sunglasses down on the little table you had put next to the coat rack a few weeks ago.

And you looked him in the eyes for the first time in four months.

He motioned at the table.

"Looks great, honey", he said, his voice a little too rough to sound quite normal. "Nice touch."

You shook your head softly.

"I couldn't care less about the table right now", you muttered, and with that, you were on him again. Actually, truly, fully on him again. You pushed yourself right up onto him, into him, pried his shirt off his shoulders, off his arms, let it drop down to the ground and then reached for his jaw to drag him further down, to deepen the kiss even if you knew that was impossible. So you bit down on his lip and allowed him to finally push your dress up over your hips, over your chest, over your head - you had to let go of him for a moment then, had to pull away from him so he could drop your dress on the floor and before you could even come close to reaching out for him again, he was taking a step back.

You could feel his eyes raking down your body. You could feel him taking in the white lingerie on your skin - the strings of the thong high up on your hips, intricate lace around your waist, the small bow right in the centre of it, the bra cups almost transparent, the floral white pattern covering up your nipples, the other few, small bows sown onto the straps.

You sucked in a breath at the look on his face. You hadn't seen that look in far too long.

"God, honey", Bradley groaned, reached for your waist, brushed his thumbs along the lace, ran his fingertips along the lingerie. You bit down on your lip as he pulled you, slowly, carefully, into him - gave you enough time to rest your hands on his chest, your palms against his tank top. "You look sinful. Did you buy that just for me?"

You nodded, swallowed.

"Just for you", you admitted. "Wanted to surprise you."

Bradley tugged you another inch closer, so close that your chest bumped into his, your breasts pressing against him. He let out a hum, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage.

"You did that, pretty girl", he muttered, his fingers digging into your sides. "You're incredible."

Then his lips were on yours again and you were melting, becoming putty in his hands, turning to goo in his arms. Your breaths met, lips parted. You couldn't quite believe you were finally touching him again.

He walked you back to the bedroom, narrowly avoiding the doorway, his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your bum. You reached for the hem of his shirt, forced him to stop right on the threshold so you could get rid of it - get rid of that one layer of fabric still in the way. You drew back for a second to pull it over his head, to drop it to the floor, to let your eyes travel all over his bare torso.

God, how you'd missed this man and his broad shoulders and his washboard abs. How you'd missed his touch and the sound of his voice.

"Bradley", you gasped softly, your fingertips trailing over his naked skin, down to his shorts. "I need you."

He let out a groan.

"I've waited four months for you to say that again", he muttered. You could hardly take another breath before he was on you again - lips on yours and hands on your hips and your back hit the bed a moment later, the cushy mattress, the fluffy pillows softening your fall.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him as he stood in front of your bed, the sunlight dripping down him like drops of water hitting the floorboards, his torso bare, his curls messed up, looking down at you with a heaving chest, his fingers on his belt, unhooking it, opening the button on his jeans, pulling down his zipper - you swallowed hard as you watched him drop his shorts on the floor, step out of his shoes.

A whine rolled off your tongue.

"Bradley, hurry up", you whimpered, your fingers cramping in the sheets, your legs pressing together all of their own accord, trying to get some kind of friction as he undressed himself in slow motion while you just lay there, your panties long soaked through and your fingers itching to trail down your own body.

Bradley chuckled.

"Don't worry, honey", he muttered, kneeling down on the ground to drop kisses to your calves before pulling off your sandals. "I'll make sure you forget about the past four months, alright?"

Your breath hitched as your heels hit the ground.

"Please", you begged softly. "I've missed you so much."

He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulled you to the edge of the bed - his breath ghosting over your underwear, over that tiny white piece of lingerie you had bought for him, for him to take you apart in. His fingers dug into your skin, spread out wide, to touch as much of you as he possibly could. He pressed a kiss right to that wet spot on your thong.

You let out a moan. God, how had you survived four months without him? You were barely surviving fifteen minutes of not having him fuck you.

Bradley grinned, raised his head to meet your eyes and seriously, you were close. Too close. He hadn't touched you yet, not really. You'd die today, you were sure, die and go to heaven.

"You look almost too good to undress, honey", he muttered, brushing his thumbs below that lace around your waist, not making a move to pull it down your legs.

"Bradley, please", you whined, your hands brushing over your own chest, running over your bra cups, tracing the flowers, desperately holding back from just ripping everything off yourself, pushing him onto his knees and riding him into oblivion. "Don't tease. I need you."

He groaned into the skin of your thigh.

"Anything you want, honey", he muttered - and then your thong was gone and he was burying his tongue inside you, dipping, tracing, licking, circling your clit, breathing you in, devouring you. Taking and giving everything. It had been four months since he'd had you like this and he wanted everything, every inch of you he could get. He wanted to taste you, every last drop of you, wanted to eat you out until you couldn't think anymore, until you had truly, fully forgotten all the time he had been away, all the time you had been forced to be on your own, alone.

You thrashed, moaned above him - your fingers clenching around your bra, brushing over your nipples. You were close. Close after the entirety of three seconds, close to tears, close to coming.

"Bradley", you choked out, tearing your hands off yourself, burying them in his hair instead - tugging him off, tugging him away from you. You took a deep breath as he let go of you, as he loosened his grip on you, looked up at you with desperation in his eyes.

"I need you to fuck me", you whimpered, already too sensitive, too tense. "I need you inside me."

You hadn't had him in four months.

Four months had been enough goddamn foreplay. As much as you loved when he ate you out, you needed him, you needed his cock, you needed to feel him inside you, you needed him to take you apart and make up for all the time lost.

Bradley nodded, nodded because he knew, he understood - he saw the frantic look in your eyes, had felt the desperate drag of your hands at his clothes, his arms, his shoulders, his hair. He'd give anything to you. Everything. He would do whatever you wanted of him.

Maybe in another situation he'd have made you beg more, would have teased you more, would have edged you a few times. Maybe in another situation. But not in this one. Not after four months of being away from you, not when you were so beautifully, so desperately spread out beneath him, looking up at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, your lip pulled between your teeth, your gorgeous white lingerie still concealing too much of your skin.

As he'd said, you were almost too gorgeous to undress. But just almost.

So he rose up from the ground, pulled you up with him, pulled you in, his fingers brushing along your sides, your spine, your bra clasp. He let it fall open. You worked fast, worked your bra down your arms and off your hands and drew back from him to fling it against the wall and lay down on the bed, lay down all pretty and waiting.

You needed him to fuck you. Now.

He let out a groan, closed his eyes. The look on his face had you pressing your legs together again. Wetness was coating the inside of your thighs now. It glistened on his moustache. And you were sure you could have tasted it on his tongue too.

He was making you go insane.

"How do you want me, pretty girl?", he asked, pressing his knees into the side of the mattress. "Tell me how and I'll do whatever you want."

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your nerves were bubbling up. Four months. You'd waited four months for this one question.

"Behind", you whined. "Need you from behind."

Bradley had known, of course, because that was what you always said when he stood at the front of your bed and asked you this question. His hands were on your waist, grasping, grabbing, turning you over before you had fully finished speaking, your cheek pressed against the pillows, your breath coming short and shorter, adrenaline pumping through every single one of your veins. You felt hot and sticky and needy and nervous.

Nervous because Bradley stilled.

Nervous because he sucked in a sharp breath.

Nervous, even though you had been here a million times before, in his bed and in yours, bent over desks and bars and couches, with the heat of him behind you, arousal flowing through your body like oxygen, anticipation clouding your mind.

"Shit, honey", Bradley breathed.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw.

How you'd have loved to see his expression. But you had known you wouldn't. You had prepared yourself to be satisfied with the sound of his voice, with the feel of him so close to you.

"Shit", Bradley repeated. He took another deep breath in. "You got a tattoo?"

A tattoo.

Your tattoo.

You nodded into the pillow, scraped your cheek against the fabric, so eager, so quick to agree. Four months you had waited for this. Four months since you had begun planning this - the very day after he'd left, in a conversation with none other than Phoenix. Four long, lonely months.

Bradley ran his thumb along the soft expanse of your skin. Along that strip of skin right above your hips, just where they met your back - right above your ass, right where he could see so very perfectly.

He was gentle. Almost not touching you at all. As though he was afraid he could somehow, even after all this time, hurt you, as though he was afraid he could wipe it away.

"It's healed", you whined, breathlessly, trying your hardest not to squirm, not to push back further into him even though you felt like you were going insane. You'd known he'd take his sweet time staring at that inked expanse of skin. But you hadn't known you would be so goddamn desperate for him to fuck you into delirium while he did so. "It's fully healed."

Bradley was quiet, silent behind you. His thumb stilled, stayed still. You sunk your teeth into your lip.

You would truly go mad here. For more than one reason now.

Bradley was always loud. Always moving, always doing something. He was forward and honest and loud and it was a miracle, really, when he wasn't. When he was calm and quiet and still. It didn't always mean something good.

It surely didn't always mean something bad, either.

But it didn't always mean something good.

And you hadn't been nervous. You hadn't been nervous about showing him, because you knew he loved you and he'd love this - this show of him, this show for him. Just for him. But you had still been fidgety. You had still been excited, flustered.... nervous, after all. In a good way. Now, good was turning to less good because he was quiet, for once, quiet and you didn't know what to do, what to say. You had expected him to go feral, had expected him to fuck you raw, to go absolutely ballistic. You had imagined, pictured, visualised it, four months long. Every night that you hadn't been remembering him, you had been imagining this - this moment right here, where he read the words inked forever into your skin, and every time, again and again, your fingers hadn't been enough, your vibrator hadn't been enough, nothing had been enough. Not in comparison to him, to his fingers and his tongue and his cock.

And every time, again and again, when nothing had been enough to replace him, you thought to yourself just how right it had been to have lain on that leather table bed in that tattoo parlour four months ago. Just how right it was to have him marked on your skin like that. Forever.

Great Balls Of Fire.

"Bradley, please", you whimpered, your fingers closing around whatever piece of fabric you could manage to grab at - the covers, the sheets, the pillows. "Say something. Please"

Bradley let out a long breath.

"Great Balls Of Fire?", he asked quietly, his fingers brushing over your skin again. Some kind of reassurance, at least.

"Thought you'd like it", you mumbled into the pillow, stumbling, tripping over your words a bit, still breathless around the edges. You couldn't be expected to talk now. Not when he was so close to giving you what you needed.

"Like it?" His hands wrapped around your waist, his left thumb still stroking over those unfamiliar familiar letters on your skin - Great Balls Of Fire, in his handwriting, taken from one of his sheets of music, from his piano. His song. His father's song.

Your song.

Your song.

Your song.

"Honey", Bradley rasped, pulling you an inch back to him and you let a whine fall from your lips. You were soaked, you were dripping, you were desperate and still so very unsatisfied. "Do I like it? I love it. I love you. God, you got a tattoo. You're incredible. You're-"

He stumbled over his own words, trailed off, left his sentence hanging unfinished in mid air. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss right on top of your tattoo. Right on top of those letters, on top of that song, on top of your song. On top of the very reason you had met, six years ago in a stuffed navy bar.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me", he muttered, dropping another kiss onto your skin.

You whimpered again.

"You've been so good to me, honey, haven't you?", he went on, as though he wasn't hearing those little whines, those little moans rolling off your tongue. He was. You knew that. "You waited so prettily for me to come back, didn't you? You were so eager for me to be home again, so eager for me to be with you again that you even got a tattoo?"

You nodded along, nodded and nodded and kept on nodding because yes, yes and yes - yes to everything, yes to him.

"You got a tattoo just for me, honey. You can't even see it. Probably had to twist and turn in the mirror every day to take care of it, didn't you? And all just for me."

You nodded again - never really stopped nodding, not with his fingers brushing along your back, over your skin, with his voice so deep and rough and real.

"Just for you", you whined.

Bradley chuckled.

"Just for me", he repeated, his voice deeper than before - if that was even possible - his fingers stroking along your sides, roaming over your back, your spine. "Such a good girl."

A shiver went through your entire body at that - through your legs, your arms, your shoulders, through every single one of your fingers and toes. He knew just what he did to you when he said that.

He knew.

"Bradley", you moaned, unashamed now, the nerves in your veins long subsided, replaced once more by that all-consuming heat that you could never get enough of.

"Yeah, honey?", he asked. You could hear the grin on his lips. "What do you want?"

You let out a sort of sob that sounded pathetic even to your own ears. It wasn't that you minded begging. Because you didn't. You really didn't. But you had already done so, had already begged him miserably, had told him so prettily how you wanted him to fuck you. And he was starting all over again.

"Just once more, honey", Bradley whispered, dropping kisses to your spine, climbing higher and higher. "Tell me once more and you'll get whatever you want."

"Fuck me", you cried out, burying your face in the pillow, not letting even half a second pass by. Bradley always made good on his promises. And you needed him more than anything right now. "Please fuck me."

He was on you within a heartbeat.

One hand around your waist, pulling you into him, as the other one guided himself into you. He pushed into you in one smooth movement, pushed his hips right to yours, stretched you out like he hadn't in four goddamn months.

You were clenching around him, moaning his name, tears brimming in your eyes at the feeling of him again, finally. He was grunting, groaning behind you, his hands clasping around your waist as he settled deep inside you and let out a breath.

You hadn't felt so stretched out in so long. You hadn't felt him in so long. You needed more. You needed to feel more of him.

"Bradley", you whimpered. "Move."

His fingers dug even firmer into your sides. You bit down on your lip. He felt so good, so heavenly with his hands on your skin and his cock deep inside you, but you needed him to move, you needed him to move now, you needed him to fuck you and make you fall apart for him.

"Need a second, honey", he grunted, running his thumbs along your skin - along your new tattoo, just for this, just for him. "God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much."

You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to keep still for him, even as your thighs burned with the need to move, the need for more, the need to finally come undone around him. You knew you were close already. You could feel it, had been feeling it, dancing around the edges of your perception, melting in your blood, scorching in your stomach.

"Missed you too, Bradley", you moaned into the pillow, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."

"God, honey, you are", he groaned. "So good. Perfect."

And then he was moving, finally, and you let out a sobbed kind of prayer, your eyes falling shut, your fingers digging into the sheets as he thrust in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm - enjoying the feeling of you around him, letting you enjoy the feeling of him inside you.

Just that you couldn't enjoy this.

You couldn't enjoy this because you were wound so tightly, wound so goddamn tightly that tears were pricking in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks and drop onto the covers. You needed him to make you fall apart, to make you come, you needed more. Just a little more.

You were teetering on the edge and he had you spiralling with how slowly he was fucking you. You needed him to send you over that edge, not build it higher and higher and higher up.

"Bradley", you whined, stumbling clumsily over his name as he ran a hand up your back. "More."

"Dunno if I can-" He broke off, his breath hitching, his fingers resting on your neck, brushing through your hair. "Fuck, honey, dunno if I can do more without coming."

You bit down on your lip at that, let out a moan so absolutely filthy that you were sure you would have been embarrassed of it if you'd had any more capacity to think - to think of anything other than him, anything other than how this god, who could fuck you for hours on end without tiring once, with so much stamina he could have you sobbing, coming for him four, five times on his cock alone, how this god was so desperate for you after four months that he was worried he'd come if he went any faster.

You were almost pushed over the edge just by that alone.

"I don't care", you cried, because you really didn't. "I don't need long, I need you. I'm so close."

Bradley grunted, his fingers brushing even higher up on your scalp.

"You're gonna be the death of me, honey", he muttered, just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up onto your knees - into him, into his arms, your back flush to his chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder with a moan, let your eyes fall shut again.

He thrust up into you with vigor then, with more urgency, with less fear of coming undone, less fear of cutting this short. His hands smoothed over your sides, over your chest, holding you up against him, brushing along your breasts, along your stomach.

And all you could think was yes, this, this was it. This was what you had been imagining, what you had been picturing in a cold, lonesome bed every night, what you had been so desperate for.

His fingers trailed down your thigh, trailed up again, caught on your clit, drew a circle against that little bundle of nerves and you fell forward, doubled over, only held up by him, by his arms around you as you came undone, as you clenched around him.

Four months.

Four months and a tattoo.

And he hadn't even had you there for two minutes, had barely touched you, and now you were falling apart for him, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, legs burning, fingers cramping. You'd waited four months for this.

You could feel him spilling inside you, noticed it somewhere dancing around the edges of your perception as you gasped for breath, tears stinging your cheeks and your nails digging into your own thighs.

This.

Him.

Bradley's finger had stilled on your clit. You blinked your eyes open, refocused on your green wallpaper, on the pictures, the old vintage polaroids of you and him right above the bed until you could see them all clearly again, until you could see them and realise what they were, until you could manage to tilt your head back and rest it, once more, against Bradley's shoulder. Until you had come back to reality again.

"I missed you so much, honey", he muttered into your ear, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss onto your exposed neck. "Missed this so much."

"Missed you so much too", you mumbled, reached for his hands. He pulled his finger from your clit, let you intertwine your hands with his, rested them carefully on your stomach. "Love you, Bradley."

He pressed another kiss to your neck, his lips warm, oh so warm on your skin, soft and warm and you needed him to kiss you now, to press his lips to yours.

"I love you too, honey", he whispered, halfway to brushing another kiss onto your skin when you turned your head, met his lips with your own, cut him off by surprise.

This was a weird angle, you had to strain your neck to even slot your lips together somewhat well and you were sloppy with it, too, your chest still heaving and your mind returning to clarity just now, but you didn't care, couldn't care, not when he'd just made you come, when he was holding you in his arms, when he was finally here, right behind you again, as though the last four months hadn't happened at all.

When you pulled back, you were feeling more normal again - as normal as you possibly could feel, with him behind you, with him inside you still.

"You got a tattoo", Bradley breathed, a grin dancing around the corners of his lips. You chuckled.

"Just for you", you nodded, brushing your fingertips up his arms, up to his elbows.

Bradley kissed you again, all parted lips and breathing into each other. You felt almost melancholic when he drew back. But he was smiling - and when he smiled, you had to smile too.

"I'm never letting you go again", he said, loosened his grip on you to trail his hands slowly, softly down your body, giving you enough time to steady yourself without him holding you up anymore. "And I'm not letting you leave this bed until the sun comes up, alright, pretty girl?"

You had to bite down on your lip to keep from grinning, anticipation already bubbling in your veins again. You knew he could make good on that promise. And that he probably would.

"Yes, please, Bradley", you muttered, already bending down again, splaying out your hands to catch yourself on the mattress as you showed him your tattoo again, just for him to see, just for him to touch. Just for him. "Whatever you want. As long as you want. I love you."

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #x reader

[jyoongim]

BLOOD & BLISS

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

Chapter four

Chapter Five

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Something smelled.

Every time you entered the kitchen, a putrid scent would assault your nose.

You didnt know where the smell was coming from, but you were determined to find it.

You had cleaned every inch of the kitchen, thinking it was some old food you had failed to dispose of.

But it still lingered.

You followed your nose, trying to locate the smell.

It led you to the cellar.

Did some animal get in and die from the heat? You mentally groaned at the thought at having to find some decomposed vermin and having to clean it up.

You held your reflex to gag as you descended the stairs. God it was rancid.

You didnt even bother to turn on the light as you traveled down to investigate. You looked around and from what you could see nothing was out of the ordinary.

But there was trash bags stuffed in a corner.

Alastor usually did well in making sure the trash didnt overflow, but you guess he had forgot.

Mustve been the deer you thought as you grabbed the bags and tried to move them.

But one bag was all too heavy for you to carry.

You huffed and grabbed at it again, thinking that carrying it at a different angle would help, but the contents of the bag shifted and must have not been sealed properly as something spilled out.

Cold, slimy liquid splashed your bare feet and you cringed.

This was definitely what was causing the smell.

Your stomach did flips as the smell assaulted your senses.

You figured you needed the light and made your way to find the switch.

Now seeing your surroundings clearly, you turned to see where you left the bag and froze.

Red. 

That’s what your eyes registered first. 

Thick red liquid was leaking out of the bag and when you approached further to the dumped contents your blood ran cold.

Was that a hand?

You felt bile rush into your throat.

There must be some mistake…what was a…a body doing in your cellar?

You shook your head and waddled back up the stairs.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You were frazzled.

You poured yourself a glass of water. Maybe there was an explanation for this. There had to be right?

You took a deep breath. There was a body in your cellar. There was a dead person in your cellar. Could you even consider them a person? The state they were in…

Your eyes drifted to the pot on the stove. You approached the pot and opened it. The beef stew Alastor made. You sniffed it.

It smelled normal.

You picked up a piece of meat and examined it.

It didnt look like any meat you knew.

Your stomach curled as realization dawned on you.

Your husband had fed you human meat…

Your head was in the trash can before you knew it. Throwing up the water you had just sipped.

NO NO NO. NO NONO NO NO

You made your way to your pager, the line beeped and the deep brawl of your husband answered “Honey! Is everything ok? Im kind of busy”

You were panting, shock settling in you “I-I just wanted to know if you could come home straight from work today?”

The man chuckled “Of course dear. Why don’t you rest a bit you sound rattled” you bid him goodbye and sat on the couch.

Theres no way this was happening…

——————————————————————————————

Alastor quirked a brow when you didn’t come to greet him home.

The house was dimly lite except for the kitchen.

He smiled and found you sitting at the table, rubbing your swollen belly.

”You’re not indulging in a late night drink are you my dear?” He nodded towards the bottle of whiskey and glass in front of you.

You jumped slightly, having not heard him come home.

You quickly gathered yourself and have a shaky smile “of c-course not. I thought after a long week you would like to whine down”

He let out a low hum and made himself a glass.

Alastor noticed how you seemed…nervous.

You didn’t met his gaze and fidgeted in your seat.

”What’s troubling you cherie?” He asked downing the drink.

You wanted to blurt out and question him about the thing in your cellar, but you didnt know how he would react.

You had to wait for the right moment.

So you shook your head with a smile “Baby been giving me trouble that’s all. Didn’t realize how much I missed doing simple things without being out of breathe”

He laughed and leaned to place a kiss on your temple, a large hand over your very big bump. “You should take it easy. I told you you ain’t have to do anything. Just sit pretty and grow our child”

Your heart buzzed. 

There was no way your husband, your Alastor was a killer.

Maybe the hormones was making you delirious.

Maybe it really WAS just a deer carcass.

But you were certain you saw right…

”Did you clean today? You know chemicals aren’t good for you to be around. You shouldn’t be putting unnecessary stress on yourself darlin”

You pouted, wrinkling your nose “Something was rotten. You know how I feel about my kitchen Al.”

If you didnt know your husband, you wouldnt have noticed when he tensed up, but as quickly as it happened, it passed.

”Rotten?” He asked, face frowning.

You nodded “I threw out the strew, I think it went bad”

Alastor’s fingers drummed on your stomach and then he shrugged.

”guess Ill have to do better next time” he pulled you up and lead you unstairs to rest for the night.

”Guess Ill have to do better next time” what did that mean?

You had got dressed for bed and settled beside Alastor who pulled you to snuggle into his side.

You let out a yawn, eyes getting heavy “Al?”

He hummed in acknowledgment as he looked over some scripts.

“You would tell me if something was troubling you right?”

He glanced down to see you looking at him.

”Of course dear why?”

You shook your head, closing your eyes 

“Nothing just wondering”

Your soft snores filled the room and Alastor let out a sigh as he set down the papers.

He slipped out of bed and made his way to the kitchen.

He looked around. While he had made sure to thoroughly clean up his mess, your cleaning was another level.

He sniffed and nothing but chemicals greeted his senses.

Something was rotten

Could you have…

He made his way down into the cellar. Flicking the light on, his eyes scanned the room.

The black trash bags were still in place.

His eyes narrowed noticing the red liquid coming from th bag.

Oh that just wont do.

He hauled the bag over his shoulder and went into the backyard.

Alastor wouldnt let his clean reality be faltered by his sinful deeds.

After all…

you didn’t need to know your husband dirty little secret….

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Hi Jyoongim here !

I am at the point of the story where everything is now about to shit and dont know how long this story will be. Im thinking at least five more chapters (They will be long) but who knows. Blood and Bliss WILL have a second series, but until then…i would like to address something…. The next few chapters will have heavy themes. As a black writer i feel it is important that I show the history of my people and what African Americans had to deal with in the early centuries in the South United States. With that being said; be mindful and open-minded about the themes that will appear in the next few chapters Thank you

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor the radio demon #human alastor x wife reader #human alastor x reader #human alastor #alastor fluff #domestic fluff #yandere #dark themes

[wileys-russo]

ausenal ‘can you just not sit still?’ travelling to London

steph catley, caitlin foord, kyra cooney-cross

"one two three four, i declare a thumb war!" you chanted, hand locked with kyras as the two of you grunted and struggled. "oh my god." steph mumbled, massaging her temples as the four of you sat in dubai airport for your layover.

"how the fuck are the two of you not tired? you did not shut up or sleep that entire flight!" caitlin groaned from beside her, head resting on her fist as you and kyra ignored them.

"winner!" you screamed happily, jumping on top of the brunette. "ow! steph." you scowled as the defender harshly smacked the back of your calf. "its four thirty in the morning here and people are clearly trying to rest. shut up!" the girl warned sternly nodding to a few other passengers curled up in chairs not far from you.

"that doesn't count we're on aussie time!" kyra slung her arm around you with a scoff. "yeah! and on aussie times its...eleven thirty seven in the morning." you checked your phone and grinned, steph only letting out a deep sigh.

"how much longer till we board?" she mumbled to caitlin. "four and a half hours." the striker answered with a sigh of her own. "we could always drug them, i'm sure theres a pharmacy somewhere in here." steph muttered, both girls seeming to contemplate the idea for a moment before abandoning it with a shake of their heads.

"oh i have cards! lets play." you remembered, swinging your backpack off and rummaging through before you found them, kyra sitting cross legged on the floor beside you.

"come on!" you pinched stephs ankle as she jolted awake and shot you a glare. "works best with four people." you shook the packet at her as kyra had successfully harassed caitlin into playing.

"one game, thats it."

though with all four of your competitive tendencies kicking in, one game quickly became five, and then ten. steph tapping out as they announced your connecting flight was delayed a further three and a half hours due to an engine issue.

"oh you've gotta be fucking kidding." caitlin groaned, you and kyra quite unbothered as you packed away the cards. "ky and i are gonna go find food." you dropped your backpack on top of steph who grunted and pushed it off with an annoyed huff, the two of you racing off before she could say another word.

"do you reckon they accept aussie dollars?" kyra realised as the two of you stood in front of a vending machine, all of the food kiosks closed for another hour due to the time. "no but they should accept this." you grinned plucking your debit card out of your pocket.

"what! i thought steph took yours? caitlins got mine." kyra groaned, the two of you having had your 'pocket money' privileges revoked after you'd decided to buy out basically the entire vending machine at camp, most of which was shared with harper and harley and caused a sugar high chaos.

"sticky fingers ky, sticky fingers." you smirked, having swiped it out of stephs wallet when she was distracted. "oh like in home alone! the sticky bandits." kyra beamed, having admitted to never having seen the movie you'd forced her to watch a whole stack of christmas films over camp.

"see! and you thought you didn't need a christmas movie education."

"jesus christ we're here for a few more hours not a few days!" caitlin shook her head as you and kyra returned, arms laden with all sorts of treats both sweet and savory. "you are not eating anything that has sugar in it before the flight, over my dead body." steph warned sternly, making quick work to try and snatch everything she deemed a danger.

little did they know you and kyra had assumed this would be the case, the majority of the sweet treats hidden away in pockets, kyras bum bag or on your persons.

"do we stop them?" caitlin sighed, wedged into the chair beside steph as you and kyra took off again to explore. "no, if they run off their energy now maybe they'll actually sleep this next flight." steph pointed out, hopeful but realistic that likely wouldn't happen.

so they left the two of you to it, grateful you'd finally left them be much as they worried what the two of you were up to, the last thing they needed was to have to bail you out of trouble with security in another country let alone in dubai.

"where the hell are they? the flight boards in five minutes!" steph stressed, trying both of your phones again which rang out. those five minutes passed, then another ten, and with seconds to spare before they considered just leaving the two of you behind suddenly you and kyra skidded around the corner into view.

"sorry! we got lost and then kyra-" you started to explain but with a murderous look from both your older team mates you fell silent, accepting your bag which was shoved into your chest and silently filing onto the plane after them.

"no! you two are being separated." steph warned as you tried to sit beside kyra, frowning and moving the seat behind so you were next to steph instead.

getting through takeoff both you and kyra were quiet, steph and caitlin both praying that meant you had indeed tired yourselves out. but as the seatbelt sign went off and steph had just started to doze off she heard you moving about, tossing and turning and huffing.

"can you just not sit still?" the defender groaned tiredly, head turning to shoot you a look as you sent her a sheepish smile. "i'm not tired!" you shrugged honestly. "watch a movie or something then, just be quiet. please!" the older girl sighed deeply as you nodded.

it seemed to have worked as steph began to doze off, but the very obvious opening of a packet of something caused her to shoot back up, catching you in the act of shoving a chocolate bar in your mouth.

"give it." steph warned, holding her hand out as you sighed and handed it over. "all of them." the girl shot you a firm look as you deflated and grabbed out the bag, watching with a broken heart as steph hid them away in her own luggage.

"you know steffy you are the worst travel buddy ever." "funny, could say the exact same about you kid. now be quiet, please!"

#woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #steph catley x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #caitlin foord x reader #woso community #awfc x reader

[atimeofyourlife]

Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles warm up round: bakery au rated: t | wc: 840 | cw: none | tags: pre-steddie Eddie never got involved in the upside down, he and Steve meet again a few years later in a bakery in Chicago

The bakery was Steve's pride and joy. It was something that he had accomplished and built up by himself, without the input from his parents. No financial assistance from them, no help in learning how to manage a business. It had been a lot of trial and error, and incredible support from his friends, but he had succeeded. He'd brought the small unit in Chicago using most of the hush money payment over the Upside Down. It needed a lot of work doing to it before he was ready to open it, but once it was open it just took off. Constantly selling out of most of the bakes by lunchtime each day, having to take on extra staff to keep up with demand.

After nearly two years, he had a number of very loyal regulars, the ones who would come in at the same times and same days each week, always ordering the same things. The local workers that would always come in before work or on a morning break for a sweet treat everyday. The older couples that would come in twice a week, once for a dessert for their weekly date nights, and once for treats for their grandchildren. The college students that were adamant that Steve's pastries were infinitely better than the ones they could get on campus.

But the newest regular, one his staff had nicknamed 'Mr Metal,' Steve had yet to meet. From the name, Steve assumed that he worked in the new record store that had opened across the street, but the man always managed to be in and out while Steve was still working in the kitchen, setting up the next batch for the oven or decorating what had just finished cooling.

One Friday morning, he was carrying out the boxes ready to restock the counter, when he heard the voice of Zara, one of the cashiers.

"Uh, I'm not sure. Give me a minute, I'll just have to ask the boss."

"Ask me what?" Steve asked as he rounded the counter, the stack of boxes obscuring most of his vision.

"Please tell me that those boxes have lemon cream cheese pastries and apple pie cookies in them." She replied, sounding a little stressed.

"Yeah, lemon are in the top box, apple in the bottom." Steve replied as he put the boxes down on the side, and started unstacking them. He glanced up at the customer, a vaguely familiar, handsome man, and from the long hair, piercings, and the Black Sabbath t-shirt, this had to be the Mr Metal that all the staff kept mentioning. "How many of each did you want?"

"Two of each." The man replied, staring hard at Steve.

"Uh huh." Steve worked quickly to box them up. "Are you aware of our Friday five for four offer? Five bakes for the price of four, so you could get another of your choice at no extra cost."

"I get them for me and my coworkers, theres four of us so I don't think we can split a fifth four ways without fighting over who gets what."

"I can always bag it separately, so you can slip it in your pocket. They don't have to know a thing about it." Steve offered with a wink.

"You drive a hard bargain, Harrington. I'll take another apple pie cookie."

"I-" Steve looked at the man, confused. Unsure how he knew his name. "Did you go to Hawkins, then? I'm sorry, I don't think I remember you."

"You got a table round here? I could climb up and start talking about jocks and conformity." He looked Steve up and down. "Though, you don't seem to conform to the jock image any more, big boy."

It took another moment, but the name hit Steve as he was bagging the extra cookie. "Munson. Used to buy weed off you."

"I don't know if I should be honored that the king remembers me, or wounded that it took so long."

Steve rolled his eyes at the dramatics, it reminding him even more of high school. "I don't remember most people now, too many concussions."

"Shit. But now you're boss of a bakery. How life changes."

"Yeah. It only took three serious concussions, two major disasters in Hawkins, and one disownment after getting caught behind The Hideout with Matty P. But then I realized that this is what I want to be doing."

"What were you doing behind The Hideout with Matty P? Smoking weed or something? I know you never hid about that."

"We had been smoking, but at that point my mouth was, uh, otherwise occupied." Steve admitted.

"Oh, shit." Eddie choked back a laugh, then looked at his watch. "I'd love to hear more about that, but I've got to get back to work."

Steve quickly wrote his number on the bag with the extra cookie, before handing it over. "Call me sometime, maybe we could spend some time together outside of work."

"You're on, Harrington." Eddie winked at Steve, before leaving the bakery.

im not the happiest with the end of this bc it was rushed after my brain turned to mush from migraines

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #pre steddie #steddie fic #steddieholidaydrabbles #atimeofyourwrites

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: You and König attend a holiday party.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, vague racism, heat (omega verse)

Word count: 3.1k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.

A/n: Omg....Hi guys......it's me.....hey.......I am alive. This chapter is defiantly geared more towards my poc readers. Theres some angst that i'll revisit in a later chapter. Some comments are made. You'll see. Anyways, I can't promise I will be posting super consistently but I will definatly try to post more then I have been.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Five:

Your editor droned on about deadlines and writing engines as you ate some soup König got you earlier. You can hear the desperation through the computer screen. You'd be lying if you said you were listening. They'll get the pages when they get them, with you, no money. König sat on the couch waiting for your meeting to be done. 

“I'll get the next chapter done, Frankie.” You said.

“You promise?” He was almost teary-eyed.

“Yes, I promise.” 

You hung up and closed your laptop while sighing. You got up and walked over to your giant Alpha. You outstretched his arm, inviting you to cuddle. You obliged plopping yourself on his lap and resting your head on his chest. The November winds were seeping into the atmosphere slowly. You didn't mind. That meant the holidays were coming. 

“The 141 is having an early holiday party. Everyone goes on leave one week into December, so we celebrate early. Would you like to go with me, Schatz?” 

“Oh yes, that sounds lovely. When is it?” You asked delightedly.

“This weekend. It's a dressy event.” 

The weekend was in four days. You haven't done your hair or dressed up in a while. You'd want a new dress for this especially with the cold, but you supposed you could make something work. As for your hair, it was time to hit up a YouTube tutorial for some ideas. König seemed to sense your internal struggle. 

“We can go shopping today, I need a button-down shirt.” 

“You don't have a button-down?” You asked a little amused. 

“Never needed one.” 

“Huh, well I also want to get my hair done. But, I've never been to a stylist here.” You started searching for braiders in the area, and to your surprise, there were some. 

The prices were comparable to ones in the US so that gave you some comfort. König looked over your shoulder browsing the different styles along with you. Some he has seen and others he hasn't. He chimed in with some styles he thought would look cute on you every so often. 

“Oh, she has an appointment available tomorrow.”

“Book it, I'll take you.” 

“I can take myself it's alright.”

“Nein. I'll take you.”

You grumbled a bit at his stubbornness but gave in. You booked the appointment and placed your deposit. 

“How much is it?” König asked.

“Um, all together with the deposit, one hundred fifty euros. I was also gonna tip but I forgot Europe doesn't do that.” 

König replied with a 'hmm' and tapped away on his phone. Your phone dinged and you checked the notification. 

'König has sent you € 150,00' 

“Kö, You don't have to pay for this.”

“Why shouldn't I? You are mine, You want it, I like it when you look beautiful, so I pay.” He said simply.

König had a habit of paying for everything. You liked it but it made you a little uncomfortable. This wasn't how you'd be treated back in the States. Whenever you mentioned it, König would always rant about how American men were cheap and lazy. He also would mention how he has more money than he needs so spending it on you is fun. König loves to see your little face light up whenever he buys you something sweet, or a piece of jewelry you were looking at. He told you to get dressed for the shopping trip and you obliged, making sure you were bundled up for the cold weather. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you opted to shop for König's clothes first. Finding clothing that fits him nicely is a challenge with how tall and muscular he is. There were some stores specifically made for big and tall men that you went into first. One store only had bright floral patterned shirts and loosely fitting dress pants. Neither you nor your Alpha liked that. The next one had some nice boots in his size. They were a fancier version of combat boots. Finally, you found a simple black button-down shirt and slim tapered dress pants for him. You made him try it on before leaving the store.

 My god...You had to keep yourself from drooling. The pants hugged his waist perfectly, and the shirt was just tight enough for you to see some muscle peeking through. König smirked at your reaction. 

“You think this will look good with my sniper hood?” he asked. 

“What?! You're gonna wear your hood and cover-up that gorgeous face? No way.”

“I don't show my face to anyone on base, Schatz.” 

“Hmm, well you look good in anything so... I guess.” You pouted.

König got dressed and paid for his clothes. Nearby there were a few boutiques with dresses. You wanted something nice, but not too fancy. You didn't want to overdress. König was patient with you as you browsed a bunch of stores. Eventually, you found something you liked. It was a midi deep purple knit dress. It had elegant sleeves and looked like it could be dressed up or down. Perfect for a cold night. König sat on the bench of the fitting room as you tried it on. You came out and twirled giving him a full view of the dress. 

“So?” You asked.

“Beautiful.” He motioned for you to come closer. When you did he placed a hand on your hip gingerly. 

“I can think of many things I could do to you in this dress.” He said quietly. 

“König!” You gave him a light slap on the arm and went back into the changing room embarrassed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you started prepping for your hair appointment. You had to wash your hair but the stylist said she could blow-dry it for you. You spent about an hour washing your hair and another detangling it. König kept you company on the couch as you combed and sectioned it out. You sighed and slumped on the couch once you were done. Your arms were a little sore but you were glad you were done. You put your bonnet on to keep your hair neat and moisturized. You made sure you had your tip ready and a book to read while you got your hair done. König stood at the door watching you pace around the apartment gathering your things. 

The drive to the salon was quick and smooth. König gave you a kiss on the cheek before you exited the car. You opened the door to the building, and the smell of hair spray wafted into your nose. A tall woman greeted you as you walked in. Her hair was braided back into neat rows and her dark cheeks had a warm glow to them. 

“Are you my twelve pm?” She asked with a smile.

“Yes, I am, nice to meet you.” 

She guided you into a salon chair and got started. Her hands were quick, skilled, and gentle as she worked her way through your head of hair. In about two hours she finished. You admired your new do in the mirror and thanked your stylist profusely. König waited at a café down the street. You spotted him sitting peacefully at one of the outdoor tables, away from most other patrons. As you got closer he glanced up to meet and look at you. His eyes widened, taking in your new look. Although he had his mask on you could tell he was smiling under it. He stood up to greet you. 

“You look beautiful, Liebe.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead careful to avoid touching your freshly done hair. You giggled bashfully and returned his kiss on his cheek. 

The next few days went by quickly. You did some extra work and scheduled an editor meeting before the weekend. When Saturday rolled around, you were anxious. You wanted to make a good impression with your Alpha's coworkers. How do you act around military personnel? Your father never brought you around any of his military friends. As you got ready you just tried to keep an open mind and stay confident in yourself. Also, you will get to see Soap again. You slipped on your dress and spritzed a light mist of perfume.

You walked out of your room while looking through your purse to make sure you had all of your essentials. König was sitting on the couch but stood when he saw you. He was dressed and ready, looking over your form affectionately. You zipped around the dining room and kitchen making sure you had everything in order. König walked over to you, stopping you in your path. He slinked his hand around your waist pulling you out of your thoughts. He pulled you into his chest gently. 

“Relax, Schatz.” He purred. You looked up at him and gave him a nervous smile. 

“I think I left my wallet in my room. Do I need it? Should I bring a gift?” You rambled. 

König pulled your wallet out from his back pocket and handed it to you. He shook his head and gave you a small smile. His sniper hood was hanging haphazardly over a dining room chair. He led you towards the door swiftly grabbing it and opening the door. You followed him out reluctantly. 

The drive to the base was uneventful aside from your occasional worrying that was quelled by your alpha quickly. You can't help but feel more on edge than you usually would, but you can't put a finger on why. König pulled up to the massive, barbed wire-lined fence. A man in full military gear and a large gun strolled up to the window. You hadn't noticed that König out his hood in a while back. He rolled the window down and quickly flashed his ID to the soldier. The man nodded and waved his hand in the air. The gate slid open almost painfully slowly. König placed a hand on your thigh as he drove slowly through the base. It helped calm you for the time being. 

There was a large building with a few dozen cars parked outside. König Parked the SUV rather haphazardly a good distance away from the entrance. When you opened the door you heard faint music coming from the building and lots of voices and laughter. Your alpha lapped the car and met you on the passenger side. You started to walk towards the door but he stopped you.

“What is the matter, Schatz?” His eyes softly gazed down at you. 

“Nothing is wrong, I'm fine.” You said quickly.

“If you are uncomfortable, we can go.” He gently caressed your cheek., his scent enveloping your senses. 

“I'm ok, I'm just a little nervous.” Deep down you knew something was off, but you were confident you could get through this night. 

“Shcatz, You forgot your collar.” König said nonchalantly.

You gasped and your hand flew up to your neck covering your exposed scent glands. 

“Oh no! Why didn't you tell me? Now I'm gonna stink up a storm in there.” You turned around embarrassed and even more on edge. 

Your Alpha said nothing, he simply opened the back door of the car and pulled out a small black bag before closing the door. He spun you around by the waist to face him waving the bag in front of you. You glanced at him unsure before taking the bag. König gave you a small nod waiting for you to open it. Inside was a large square jewelry box. When you opened it it held the most beautiful gold metal collar. The one you looked at from the boutique a while ago. 

“König....” You truly didn't know what to say. Tears pricked your eyes but you quickly wiped them away and replaced them with a smile. 

“Thank you, Alpha.” You said while wrapping your arms around his middle. 

He held you close and kissed the top of your head through his hood gently. He pulled away and took the collar out of its box. He clasped it around your neck locking it with the provided key. It fit perfectly, you could barely tell it was there. König held the small key out for you to take but you shook your head. 

“Keep it safe for me Alpha.” You said giving him a warm smile. 

Although you couldn't see his face, you could tell he was happy you trusted him with the key. König held out his elbow for you to hold and led you towards the event. You were still nervous but you brushed it off, you had someone there to protect you. The large hall was buzzing with conversation. Most people were sitting around in large groups having conversations and others were at the bar. There were string lights hung all around the ceiling giving the place a relaxing atmosphere. König led you to the bar eager to get a drink. Parties are not you or your Alpha's natural element.

He ordered a beer for himself and a gin and tonic for you. As you waited you glanced around taking in the different people. You were probably one of the very few omegas. You could tell who was military and who wasn't very easily. Some were still in uniform, others wore masks or dog tags. Some soldiers brought a plus one but it was a minority. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. You turned to see a familiar mohawk. 

“Hey! There they are!” Soap exclaimed pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You could smell the alcohol on him. 

“Hey, soap.” You eked out while being squeezed. 

Soap turned to König and gave the large Apex a hug as well. König grunted, a little uncomfortable with the contact but patted his back affectionately. 

“We've been waiting for you two to get here, everyone wants to meet the Colonel's Mrs.” His Scottish accent was thick and slightly slurred. 

The bartender set your drinks down and you quickly scooped yours up and took a sip. Soap led both of you away toward a group of men. You lingered behind König slightly allowing him to greet the group first. Soap announced your name loudly sparing König of the burden. You waved shyly giving everyone a small smile. Everyone greeted you and your Alpha before returning to the conversation they were having. You were grateful the attention on you didn't last as you could sip your cocktail and listen to the drunken ramblings of the soldiers. 

As the night dragged on, you met various people. You chatted with Ghost a bit and met Captain Price, as well as Gaz. Though the drunker people go the more rowdy things become. You sat on a chair near the group, only on your second drink. Your Alpha was loosening up after four. Soap suggested they go out to the field and play football, challenging Ghost to a team match. The whole group along with some others from the party joined them outside. König glanced over at you. 

“Will you be ok if I join them?” He asked gingerly.

“Of course, go have fun.” You gave him a reassuring smile. 

You watched him follow his coworkers out of the door into the frigid night. You decided to hang out at the bar as your drink was almost done. Although the night has been fine so far there was still something nagging in the back of your head. You plopped down on one of the bar stools and ordered another drink. Good thing this event had an open bar. You scrolled on your phone for a while not noticing how fast an hour has passed. An Alpha sat on the bar stool next to yours sighing loudly. You didn't bother acknowledging him as many people have sat there in the time that has passed. 

“It's a nice night huh? Not too cold.” The guy said in a European accent you can't place. 

You looked up from your phone. “Oh, are you talking to me?” 

“Yeah, I am. So uh, are you a new recruit or?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no, I'm just a visitor.” You glanced back at your phone hoping he would leave you alone. 

“I've never seen an omega like you.” 

“An omega like me?” You looked at him puzzled.

“Yeah, you're so exotic. I thought omegas like you have to stay in your own countries.” He said while taking a sip of his drink. 

“Well, that's rude and extremely ignorant.” You scowled at him.

“Come on, it's a compliment. I mean I knew your kind your be spicy but damn.” He chuckled. 

You took that as your cue to leave. And you stood up from the bar your felt a tug on the crown of your head. 

“I mean, is this even your real hair?” He rubbed the hair he grabbed in between his fingers. 

You ripped away from his grip. “What is wrong with you?! Don't touch me!” You yelled. Everyone at the bar turned to look in your direction. 

“Relax, I'm just joking around.” The Alpha said trying to diffuse the situation. 

“You don't touch a random person's hair, who raised you?!” 

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder gently from behind. The Alpha you were confronting turned pale. 

“Schatz? What did he do?” Your Alpha asked lowly.

 You turned to face König anger still written all over your face. As angry as you were, you wanted this to be a teaching moment for this young Alpha. You turned back to the Alpha who was standing up now sweat forming on his face. 

“Nothing Alpha, this guy just needs to watch where he's going, right?” You eyed him carefully. 

“Yes! Yes, I'm very sorry miss.” He looked down at your feet. 

You looked up at König who seemed unconvinced. He was staring daggers into the young Alpha. You saw König take a deep breath closing his eyes while doing so. When he opened them he looked down at you.

“Time to go, it's a long drive home.” He placed a hand on the small of your back and led you out.

 Some people glanced in your direction as you left. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You hurried to the car in an effort to get out of the cold. König opened your door for you and helped you slide into the passenger seat. 

“I forgot something inside, I'll be right back.” He said quickly shutting the door and storming back inside the building. 

You couldn't tell if he was about to torture that soldier or not. But you did what you could, if he gets in trouble it's his own fault. König came back out no more than two minutes later. As he started the car, you got cozy relishing in the heated air. 

“What did you forget?” You ask him.

“I had a project for Ghost, I had to tell him about it.”

“Hmm.” You responded, not buying it completely. 

As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.

As your Alpha drove, the gentle rocking of the car lulled you to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König shook you awake gently. “We're home.”

You stirred and sat up stretching gently. You felt warm, a little too warm. Did you drink that much? You followed König into the apartment and kicked off your shoes at the door. That's when the cramp hit you. It was so painful it made you dizzy causing you to stumble. König caught you by the arm and ushered you to the couch.

“Schatz? You're burning up.” He laid you down and hurried to the kitchen.

You felt the sweat forming on your brow. Your heat had come early. You whined into the couch cushions trying to breathe through the dull achy pain. König brought some water and sat you up to drink.

“Why didn't you tell me your heat was coming?” he said concerned.

“Early...it came early.”

taglist: i hope i got everyone

@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken

@midwesternwitchery @hiken-no-stark  @rouge-swears

@gxdsmonsters @the-chaotic-cow @a-gay-cryptid @smutslutsposts @wybwtjmiadz

@somanyminidragons 

@tizylish @thychuvaluswife

@luvamps @ghostslittlegf @justkillme2005

@fishballgr3mlin @mitrr  @simpytheshrimpy69 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @sweet-can-of-beer @immajustlikeok @dinonacho

@undeadgod  @multy-fandom-lover @cloudyyjanee  @bobafett-tea @mxkaylaj @evilcherries

@warrior-of-justice

@banshee-darling @beebeechaos @lolitsthings @backgroundgirl887 @jayhoneybeecomb @flooftoof @virginalsacrifice @magicleopard69 @johfaam @warrior-of-justice @jesses-wonderland

@zalyluvvs @backgroundgirl887 @beebeechaos @bitchoftoji @urfavsunkissedleo @emmbny @capricorn-anon @sigthechild @justkillme2005 @ghostslittlegf @fieldsofbats @magicleopard69 @cassiecasluciluce @kenz-ee @mysticfire0435 @floralarcher

#konig fluff #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x you #konig x reader #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig #alpha könig x reader #alpha könig #alpha konig #alpha/beta/omega au #könig mw2 #cod mwii #könig x reader #könig cod

[chrissturnsgirlll222]

second, never first

part fifteen

| part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen |

PLEASE READ WARNINGS

chris x fem!reader

summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.

warnings - swearing, kissing, use of y/n, mention of family issues (domestic violence between parents), fluff, mentions of underage drinking

word count - 900+?

NOT PROOFREAD

-

living with an emotionally unavailable parent is soul crushing at times. yes i can say i have two parents who did love each other at one point but it came to an end. to my knowledge no one knows when my dad became a different person. always drinking, going from bar to bar every night, never affectionate to me or my mom, emotionally and apparently physically abusive.

he was never the parent to help you with homework at the dinner table, although if he did i left that table in tears, clutching my book and running up the stairs.

i always had a feeling he did that to my mom but i never saw it so i chose to block out those thoughts, until i saw the proof right in front of me.

there was many moments in which i thought they would eventually split up and i could just live happily with my mom but for some reason it never happened. reasons in which at this point im honestly scared to find out. seeing your parents relationship crash and never having a true representation of what love is can fuck with you.

which brings me to now.

silently crying in chris’ bathroom at 7am after a night out in which i drunkenly confessed to him that i loved him. i thought i did, but did i actually know what that meant? i sure felt it when i was with him.

home.

he felt like home. he felt like safety. he felt like comfort. he felt like when my world was crashing he could come with a toolbox and fix it within seconds.

sure thats what you would want out of your significant other, but i dont know what love truly is.

i sat on the toilet with the lid down with my face buried into my hands and tears that never seemed like they would stop. struggling to breathe for air as i my mind just raced with thoughts. my parents, chris, anna, everything.

knock, knock

fuck. me.

i get up and wipe my face, hand on the door nob slowly twisting it. i crack to door open and im greeted with the all to familiar blue eyes that i seemed to drown in every time i looked into them. his face saddens as i open the door wider and his arms come over my shoulders. “what wrong?” chris whispers as i wept into his chest. i dont respond and just shake my head against him. he pulls away and puts one hand on the side of my face and the other one is placing my hair behind my ear, “theres nothing you cant tell me y/n, why are you crying”

“i cant-“ i croak, dropping my head down and putting my hands up to face. “yes you can, what happened?” he sighs as he pets the back of my head. “i told you i loved you” i sniffle

“what?”

“i- i told you i loved you.” i say more sternly this time.

“why is that a reason to cry kid?” he whisperers wiping my tears. “chris what do i know about love, nothing. i was shown a fucked up version of an abusive relationship my entire life. thats no way to learn what love is, i dont know what it truly feels like. m- my dad fucked me over for my entire life by being who he is, i dont know if i can ever fix that part inside of me.” i let out a sob.

“well y/n i know what love is, i am standing with it right now” he begins, “this, this right here is love,” he points between us, “them, that is love” he points at the hallway meaning his brothers. “this” he kisses me, “that is love.”

i blink at him as he talks, just in awe of his way with words. “there is never a day that i dont worry about you, if your ok, if you want to stop this fake relationship, if you even give a shit about me.” he half chuckles, “i was shown love not just by my parents but by you.” he breathes.

“you might not exactly know if your in love with me but i sure as hell am in love with you.”

jaw, on the fucking floor.

“you what?” i sniffle. “i fucking love you”

i lean up grabbing either side of his face and pull him in to a kiss. the salt of tears and chris hitting my tongue and i continue to cry into the kiss as tears flow out of my closed eyes.

“i love you too.” i pull away and he leans in again.

home, thats exactly what this felt like. i had never felt safer than in this moment. maybe i didnt know what real love was, but i knew i felt it when i was with him. i felt it for months and it was right in front of me but i always believed it was too good to be true.

-

thanks for reading xx

taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @sturnsjtop @tubl-mc @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturnssmuts @emlovesthesturniolos

a/n: love you all<333

#christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #colby brock #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo angst #matthew bernard sturniolo #matty b sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #smut #sam and colby #colby x reader #sam x reader

[jackhues]

the group chat? - mockingbird! au (platonic! hughes)

requested by: anon :))

notes: continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting &lt;3

likes are good, reblogs are better &lt;3

mockingbird! au request rules! || mockingbird au! masterlist

gif not mine

"oh, i love this song!" your friend, em, shouted over the music.

downing her drink, she grabbed another friend of yours, raya, and pulled her to the dance floor. you and talia, another friend of yours, laughed as you watched the two stumble to the dance floor.

it was girls' night, the first one ever since you all graduated. it'd been a tough few months, all of you busy with new jobs and trying to navigate this new life. but it was worth it. because of nights like these.

"five dollars em comes here to throw her shoes off," talia nudged you, nursing her drink.

you took a sip of your own drink, laughing. "oh, you're on! she's gonna either throw them in the garbage, or at some man."

talia laughed loudly, spilling some of her drink. that made the two of you laugh some more.

"come on," talia said, finishing off her drink. "let's join those idiots."

you downed your drink, "let's go!"

the two of you stumbled across the dance floor, laughing to yourselves as you danced your way to your friends.

em was currently drunk as hell, and her shoes were missing.

"told you!" you elbowed talia, laughing at the face she made.

in your tipsy state, everything was hilarious to you. from the way em danced without shoes, to the way raya danced with talia, to the way the world felt fuzzy around the edges.

the only thing that wasn't funny was the guy staring at you.

he stood near the bar, sleeves rolled up and his bald head reflecting the lights of the bar. he nursed a drink in hand, but kept his eyes trained on you.

you made a face at him, moving out of his line of vision. he craned his neck, before switching seats to keep watching you. you furrowed your brows.

by now, he knew that you knew that he was watching him. but he still made no effort to try and hide what he was doing.

with a start, you realized that you'd seen him at a few other bars and restaurants before. and he was always staring at you.

"yeah, i'm not doing this tonight," you muttered to yourself, reaching for your phone.

you pulled out your last chat, jack, and texted him.

'theres sume werd guy straring atme ie sen him at otger plasces and hes crepy come pick mup plx?'

your phone buzzed with a positive response, followed by many more notifications. you ignored them all, just ready to go home and fall asleep in jack's arms.

"creepo behind me," you whispered to em. "i'm heading home. don't wanna die before seeing quinn play the boys tomorrow."

"jack's picking you up?" she asked.

you nodded.

em yawned, reaching out to grab raya and talia (who were still dancing together). "come on. we'll go wait for him. i think i'm gonna head home too."

"thanks."

em linked her arms through yours, the four of you making your way outside to wait for jack. behind you, the creepy guy was beginning to make his way to his feet.

"oh, we're going to die," you muttered. "he's coming."

"no we won't," raya assured you. she tapped one of the bouncers, "hi. there's that guy inside being a creep, and messing with my friends," she pointed at the person in the bar. "we're heading home because he's making us uncomfortable. if you don't mind, could you keep an eye on him so he doesn't follow us?"

the bouncer nodded, "don't worry. that's my job."

raya grinned as she turned back to the rest of them. "see? all handled. besides, jack's only a few minutes away from here."

"i just texted my brother," talia said. "he'll come pick the rest of us up."

you took a deep breath, feeling the tears building up. maybe it was your tipsy state, but you were feeling more emotional than usual. "i'm so sorry guys. this was supposed to be a fun girls' night and i ruined it."

"not you, it was that creepo dingbat," em assured you. "besides, it was fun. we had lots of fun. and none of us can handle hangovers, so it's best we didn't stay out any longer."

the four of you laughed quietly, remembering your university days. none of you were good at handling alcohol or hangovers.

you looked up as a familiar car pulled up, followed immediately by jack running out the back door and pulling you into his arms.

"you're okay? were you followed? did he hurt you?"

"you're shaking," you whispered, hugging him back.

jack took a deep breath to calm himself, still holding you close. "i was freaking terrified. i couldn't even drive because i was losing it."

"you made luke drive?" you asked, pulling away a little. you held his face in your hands, knowing the touch was the only thing keeping jack calm.

"are you alright?" luke asked, coming out of the passenger seat as the car parked. "that guy didn't come after you, right?"

"no, we left," you answered, giving luke a hug as well. "the bouncer's keeping an eye on him, making sure he doesn't follow us."

"that was smart of you guys, telling the bouncer," quinn added, stepping out of the driver's side.

you stared for a moment, before remembering quinn was in town for the game.

"raya's idea," you motioned towards your friend.

she sent a two fingered salute, before hugging you and following em and talia into talia's brother's car.

"alright, let's head home now," quinn said, pulling out one of jack's hoodies from the car and passing it to you. "it's best not to stay here any longer than we have to."

you thanked him, following jack into the car. the ride home was silent, but peaceful. all of you were shaken up a bit, but you were okay. that was the big thing.

making your way into jack's apartment, quinn locked the door behind you guys while luke brought a glass of water over to you.

"thanks kid," you smiled, finishing off the glass. you looked at quinn and jack as well, "thank you. all three of you."

"you don't have to thank us," quinn reminded you. "you texted the group chat, and all three of us came over immediately. we're family, y/n. we're gonna come for you no matter what."

you smiled at the three boys around you. you loved them so much, and times like this was when you realized they loved you too. you were family.

"i texted the group chat?" you repeated. "i thought i texted jack."

quinn laughed, "it was the group chat. and good thing, because jack was freaking out and didn't know what to do."

the three of you laughed a bit, grateful that the stress was gone.

now that the night was over, and you were finally home, the high of the alcohol was fading. your head was starting to hurt, and so were your feet. jack helped you change into some pajamas and wipe your makeup off.

the two of you headed back to the living room, where luke and quinn were fighting over what to watch on netflix.

"finding nemo," luke said.

"no, we're watching moana," quinn argued.

"you're both wrong. we're watching despicable me," you told them, lying down on the couch.

jack flopped down next to you, "oh, i like that movie!"

quinn and luke got excited as well, searching for the movie and pressing play. you cuddled into jack as luke and quinn camped out on the floor.

one by one, the boys fell asleep, the movie playing softly on the t.v. you smiled to yourself as you lay in jack's arms. this was what your childhood should've looked liked. a loving family, ready to do anything for you.

even though you didn't have it then, you were happy to have found it now.

---

tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv ,  @hockeyboysarehot , @jimothystu, @mysticaldonkey ,  @lam-ila ,  @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91  , @moldenhauers, @hischierdevils, @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes ,  @mitchymainer ,  @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002  ,  @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 ,  @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94, @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj , @fandom-oneshots-etc , @ajbird18 , @cherrysodadevils , @cixrosie , @iikximii , @xcicix , @wbkz3gras , @cole-mcward48 , @starjoyyy , @eagerkya , @idontlikelizards , @trevzeags11 , @al-lie-cat , @kjohnson-91 , @bitchy55 ,

join my taglist!

#naqia's au's! #mockingbird au! #platonic!reader #platonic #hughes family #quinn hughes #hughes brothers #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes blurb #luke hughes #platonic!hughes #hughes bros #hockey one shot #hockey fic #hockey #nhl one shot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl

[look-how-they-massacred-them]

Urabrask

Submission reason:

after years of buildup for him to be leading a revolution, his contribution to the story's climax was... throwing someone at a tree, and then dying slowly and painfully

Okay so for a bit of back lore to set the stage. A long time ago in the mtg canon a doctor by the name of Yawgmoth schemed and backstabbed his way into a new world in order to develop a cure for a disease that had been plaguing the people of his continent. There stuff happens and he ends up developing a process to replace flesh with metal by way of a pseudomagical oil, and thus creating what would come to be known as Phyrexians. More stuff happens and he is defeated thousands of years later. However in this process some of the oil, phyrexian oil, he developed wound up on other worlds. One such world was Mirrodin. Eventually the oil takes roots and as it spread five Phyrexians rose above the rest, one in each of magics five colors: Elesh Norn, white, wants to unify everything under her rule (literally and metaphorically) to achieve perfection; Jin Gitaxias, blue, thinks he can science himself and everything into perfection; Sheoldred, black, and uh I honestly don’t remember lmao?; Vorinclex, green, he thought you could darwin yourself into perfection… and then theres our boy Urabrask, for the color red, for passion, ingenuity, the arts. Urabrask starts his story by immediately fucking off from the other four because he just wants to build shit and be left alone and not be involved in their scheming. So much, in fact, that when the other preators start spreading the oil further and converting the locals he orders all the phyrexians in his faction to allow refugees into their territory and to not mess with them. However this tolerance was built out of wanting to focus on and throw himself entirely to his Great Work, not some kind of moral code or kindness. He even ends up sealing his territory entirely later on, even to refugees. Later down the story they decide to change this. Presumably due to Elesh Norn’s rise as the main power in Mirrodin, now New Phyrexia, and her unwillingness to compromise, Urabrask is now reimagined as a revolutionary (which you know good on him right? Miles better than before and he was already the best among the five). Elesh Norn is at this point planning to extend her reach beyond New Phyrexia and to simultaneously invade every other world and infect/conquer them. urabrask, then, decides to revolt against Elesh Norn, but like… working and not working along side any one else? Like he’s supposedly doing his own thing along with Sheoldred but hes also constantly helping the main force? Anyways this ends up with him at best dismembered by Elesh Norn and now lost along with the rest of New Phyrexia in a pocket dimension. So what’s particularly weird is that he is a Phyrexian through and through. He wasn’t some goodguy tm. Yes he allowed refugees to seek shelter from the rest, but he was still trying to find a form of perfection through the oil. It makes some sense he would fight against Elesh Norn because shes imperialistic and she would push up against his territory. But the alliance of Everyone Else was out to completely destroy New Phyrexia, Phyrexians, and the phyrexian oil to a) defend themselves and b) because it literally just takes one drop. So Urabrask himself was on the chopping block… obviously selflessly fighting against an evil even when knowing you will probably end up dead as well is commendable, depending on circumstances, that’s just not how he was depicted on his original appearance at all. In his first appearances he’s just a dude trying to do his thing, being nice only by virtue of utter indifference, and years later when we see him again he’s now a gung-ho revolutionary setting up all the needed pieces for a fight that will end in his own death either by the hand of those he’s fighting against or those he is fighting with. I love him in both forms, but goddamn at least do more build up to it. As far as I’ve been able to find he has no plan for himself or his faction post defeating Elesh Norn and just got turned into a plot device to give the alliance a leg up and be able to win an otherwise impossible and mediocrity-ly written war.

Portrayed as a rebel against his fascist homeworld, ignored and randomly executed when it was time to actually fight them

They were killed off screen and didnt really get a satisfying ending. There were basicaly side lined in a story that they realistically should have been really important to

They had this whole buildup to him having an arc where he'd lead a Phyrexian revolution against Elesh Norn but instead they had every main character just brush it off as ""infighting"" since they think phyrexians are ontologically evil, and then had him publically drawn and quartered with literally nobody giving even a second thought about him, including Elspeth who was actively helping him before and Koth who at one point called him a friend. None of the official writing painted any of this as a bad thing.

Butchered their story and played them out as an evil when he wanted to free his people from tyranny and create.

FIRST OF ALL! His cards sucked for a very long time and only very recently had there been a non shitty urabrask. Secondly he’s by fAR THE MOST INTERESTING PHYRXIAN AND he just. NEVER GETS MENTIONED????

When Urabrask was originally introduced in the Scars of Mirrodin Block, he and his faction offered something that the other phyrexian factions didn't: empathy of for other beings, and thus, the possibility of nuance for the phyrexians. True, this empathy didn't extend into full-blown compassion, and true, he did not actively oppose the other praetors in killing and converting the native mirrans, but he did command his faction to leave any mirran refugees that entered his domain alone, and at the end of the block it was all but stated that Urabrask was planning to stage a rebellion against Elesh Norn. Come New Capenna and Urabrask has sided with the mirrans to overthrow Elesh Norn and fight against his fellow preators, even using the planar bridge to travel to New Capenna to research halo as a potential weapon even though traveling there destroyed his organic components and just being near halo caused him physical pain. Then in All Will Be One despite being explicitly stated to be fighting with the mirran rebels, Urabrask does not get a POV story, and barely gets a mention in the main story. Not only that, but in one of the side stories Slobad, one of Urabrask minions, is shown coercing mirran survivors into ""willing"" become compleated, and all of a sudden, the extra lore written about him talked about how he may prefer willing coverts to phyrexia, he was still more than willing to kill or forcefully compleate people to further his goals. Finally, midway through March of the Machines, Urabrask is executed by Elesh Norn without any meaningful resolution to his story.

-Absolutely downplayed his rebellion against phyrexia to a footnote in the story of other characters despite being a symbol for opposing everything the phyrexian invasion stood for while also *being* phyrexian. -Writers contradicted earlier in-canon explicit statements about his opinions on freedom and choice with later interviews and supplementary material out-of-canon seemingly to justify continuing to downplay him in-canon. -Finally had him captured off-screen just to be dismembered on-screen and then forgotten by the plot.

Set up to be a pivotal character in the resistance against Phyrexia. The set up to show there are sympathetic phyrexians against Elesh Norns cult-like society was being laid alongside Urabrask, but all of this is completely squandered. He's consistently devalued, his input is minimized, and depicted the layout that he's a powerful leader woth many forces behind him he is immediately undermined by only a few rogue underlings and immediately captured, tortured and implied killed offscreen. His death is not even mourned or regarded as anything. His actions should have helped but despite his resistance against phyrexia he's deemed as just another dead monster. Not a single ally he did have gives a shit that he died trying to help.

Urabrask is the most important good member of his species. It was necessary for him to have cooperative story moments with those who bunch him in with the rest of the aliens the ""heroes"" were going to genocide. Urabrask was supposed to be the symbol of co-existence and free will. Instead, he had almost no story whatsoever, with a completely unrelated scene showing him captured and dissected. He was discarded under the rug, when it should have been *him* to lead the resistance to victory against their oppressors.

Propaganda:

I will bite you if my baby doesn’t get in the poll also his wife is very petty look up Ayala furnace queen

Metal Dad deserved better

Vorinclex also deserved better

Praetors of new phyrexia (leader figures of the alien species) were mistreated and mischaracterized in the grand Phyrexia storyarch in general. It started great, but then they were killed off unceremoniously by writers that did not have the time or care to respect them.

Who else here got butchered into becoming selfless good guys? Vote for the artist turned revolutionary, a win for him is a win for tumblr.

him face :3

Urabrask is super cool. He is the first person in a race of evil alien people bent on infecting / killing / taking over people to go “hmmm maybe we should like ask them first” he is a king and was taken from us too soon

This submission also somewhat represents Phyrexians as a whole who were built up to make sure the audience has every reason to see them as people only to have the rug pulled out from under them and suddenly all phyrexians are treated as evil no matter what

#look how they massacred them poll #look how they massacred my boy #urabrask #magic the gathering #mtg urabrask #propaganda post

[hellfiremunsonn]

Why Are You So Nice To Me? Joseph Quinn x Reader

Why Are You So nice To Me?

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

SUMMARY: This new life is taking a toll on you. Desperately trying to not seem ungrateful leads you to an overstimulated panic attack that Joe helps you through.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

AN: A big thank to @creme-bruhlee​ for giving me that one liner that sparked me to finally finish this. I love u

Warnings: None really? Fem!reader, reader has a panic attack/anxiety attack, mentions and descriptions of said panic attack/anxiety attack, Joe being the softest sweetest boy, I love him. (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

Wordcount: 3069

Since the premier of Stranger Things season four my life hadn't had a moment to slow down. It was interviews after interviews, sometimes multiple ones in the same day, different hosts, different shows, websites, everything. Adding all of that with so much traveling, especially with Jospeh, Jamie, and I being three new characters; our schedules were often linked together because of it; Although now, I stood a few feet away from them, leaning against the wall closest to the elevators.

It was about 6 pm at night and I was standing in the lobby of some fancy hotel in Brazil. A white and black dress wrapped against my skin, the hot weather and sun, giving me a healthy bronzed glow. I stupidly decided on a classic pair of very high all black stilettos. I should have opted for an open toe wedged heel or something. But I wanted to impress everyone. My first acting gig, first round of interviews, first time traveling far without family, it was nerve wracking but I wanted every second of it to go well. Something I didn't think that would bother me as much as it did, was not constantly having my phone on you. I didn't realize how much I relied on it as a coping mechanism when I was anxious, or uncomfortable. It was difficult to not have that immediate distraction.

Picking at the black nail polish on my thumb I sighed heavily, trying to get myself into the proper mindset for this Stranger Things party? Event? Meet and greet? Whatever it was, I was ill prepared and uncomfortable to say the least. Jet lagged, sweaty, homesick, and anxious; but it didn't matter, not when you had fans to impress, people to impress, companies to impress. I never had a moment with my own thoughts for more than five minutes before being escorted to another room, car, or airport, it was always something. Not to say I wasn't grateful for everything because I truly was; just there's simply nothing that can prepare you for something like this. A cliche at its finest. I had to stop myself from laughing out loud at my own thoughts. Only another 'famous' person would understand, and in a way it almost felt pathetic, even if I knew it was true.  

A tap to my shoulder startled me slightly. I turned around to see Joe with a soft smile on his face.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just tired" I lied. I think he could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly but he didn't comment.

"The heat doesn't help either I don't think" He said laughing.

"God no, it makes me feel like I'm wrapped in a warm hug, but also in a warm bath? Maybe both at the same time? I don't know but either of those sound better than a party right now" I said sighing. Tapping the tip of my shoe against the shiny tiled floor.

Joe looked like he was about to say something but just as he opened his mouth, we were waved over and instructed on where to go and what to do.

The three of us stationed at the entrance of grey double doors. I stood between the two men, both of their arms coming to wrap around my waist, and mine on theirs.

"Let's get this show on the road yeah?" I said forcing a smile, glancing between the two.

The doors swung open and as the three of us sauntered in, the small but crowed room filled with applause and music begun to play. Jamie slipped his hand into mine and gave me a slow twirl to introduce me. I blushed and gave an awkward wave, and a clumsy curtsy to match his energy. Then turning to Joe, I grabbed his hand and twirled him around to do the same as Jamie did to me. Joe was far more graceful as I was and I watched as the girls swooned over him. It was hard not to, if I was being completely honest with myself; but that was another thought for another time. Right now I had to be present, and put my game face on. Which is exactly what I did. I walked around and mingled with everyone, taking pictures and answering questions as best as I could, especially without giving anything away, just incase there was anyone around who hadn't had the opportunity to finish the season just yet. The music was uncomfortably loud and I struggled to hear what people were saying, barely able to make out the often broken English, but I tried my best.

After a while I snuck away to the back of the room, attempting to people watch while I clutched my glass of ice water to my chest. A few minutes alone and hidden from the eye of people I leaned my back against the wall, trying to regulate the beating of my heart. Nothing seemed to help it, and it only became worse, at this point I was facing the wall, desperately begging myself to stop hyperventilating. I could feel my bottom lip wobbling as I tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. A hand on the small of my back startled me and I almost dropped the glass in my hands as I whipped around. It was Joesph, once again, a knight in shining armour. "What are you doing all the way over here?" He asked.

I looked at him. My heart still thumping in my chest, and I could feel words on the tip of my tongue but when I opened my mouth to speak they wouldn't come out. My brows furrowed, and the only noise I was able to make was a small whimper, but it sounded more like a choke. "Come 'ere" He said wrapping his arm around my waist. He took the glass from my hand and placed it on a nearby surface. Strategically moving around the people in the room as he lead me out and back into the lobby. Security following us quickly until we were safely out of sight from any lurking people. My chest rising and falling faster now, my hands covered my ears and my eyes were shut tight out of instinct and I didn't even realize I had done it until Joe was facing me in the elevator placing his hands over mine. My anxiety had heightened everything, every noise, and light and moment seemed all too much and I could feel myself getting overstimulated; suddenly hyper aware of how the fabric of my dress clung to me, and the way the tag was digging into my spine.

When I opened my eyes to look at him, the tears hidden behind my lids fall easily down my cheeks. When the elevator dinged he lead me down the hall; his hand still on the small of my back only letting go of me to reach out for the small bag I clutched in my hands. "Key?" He said softly and I fumble with shaky hands, pulling out the keycard to my hotel room. He took the card gently, his free hand never leaving the small of my back while he unlocked the door, encouraging me to walk in before him, stopping only a few feet from the door. He closed and locked the door behind me and came to face me again.

"What's going on?" He asked quietly, while his hands were rubbing both my arms up and down in attempts to sooth me.

"I-I just" I choked out a sob, my head falling to my chest.

"Hey you're okay, everything's okay"

I shook my head. "No, no everything is not okay, I'm not okay" I cried, pulling away from him a little more aggressively than intended. Leaning one hand on the wall I balanced on one foot ripping one of my heels off, and then doing the same with the other shoe. Chucking them onto the floor. I desperately grabbed at the back of my dress, trying to reach the zipper. "I'm losing my goddamn mind Joesph" I mumbled, through snot and tears. "I can't remember the last time I was home, or the last time I slept in a bed that wasn't in a hotel. I haven't seen my mom in months and I'm so fucking lonely and I fuck!-" I stopped trying to reach for the zipper, my hands balled into fists at my sides. I tried again to take control of my rapid breathing, I really didn't want to be having a full meltdown in front of anyone let alone Joesph but he stood there quietly and patiently, giving me the space I needed.

Calming slightly I tried reaching for my zipper again, only for it to get stuck about a quarter way down, stuck on the fabric. I tugged at it harshly before trying to pull it apart but I couldn't get a proper grip reaching behind me.

"Can I get your zipper for you?" He asked after a had a couple of minutes to lose my temper.

"Please?" I said desperately, turning around and walking back over to him, my bare feet padding against the floor. I turned around so my back was facing him, pulling my hair to the side and over my shoulder so it wasn't in the way. His fingers traced lightly against the back of my neck, moving a few pieces of hair I had missed in the process. Goosebumps coated my skin and I tried to control the shiver that attempted to surface, hiding it with a shaky inhale. He pulled at the zipper, bringing it back up and down, feeling it tug at the fabric again, even with Josephs nimble fingers.

"Just rip it-Please I need it off of me" I pleaded.

I felt him tug at it a few more times before I heard him sigh, shifting behind me. I went to turn around when his hands returned to my back and he pulled both ends of my dress apart, ripping it in one go. I gasped in relief, almost losing my balance, one of his hands coming to land firmly on my waist pulling me back into him, my back against his chest, holding me steady for a moment. The dress hung loosely under my breasts, sitting at my waist, my strapless bra keeping my chest covered.

Joesph cleared his throat and I turned my attention back to him, stepping away from him and turning to face him. He avoided looking at me, eyes looking every direction other than the one in front of him. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable I just n-needed to get that dress off of me" Stuttering over my words, with my body still wobbly from the anxiety.

"S'all good, I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable either" He said laughing a little, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Can I do anything to help?"

"Um, a hug would be nice?" I said clenching and unclenching my hands, trying to free them from the tingling numbness that coursed through them.

His eyes softened, and I felt a fresh wave of tears form as he held his arms out to me. A small cry slipping past my lips, sounding more like a pathetic whimper as I walked into his arms, burying my face into his chest. His hands warm, one of them coming up to the small of my back, while the other cradled the back of my head. "I got you baby, don't cry, m'right here" he said quietly, into my temple. His breath warm as he placed a small kiss to the skin just before my hairline.

He began swaying slowly back and forth, and we stood there like that for a few moments before I leaned my head up to look at him, cheek still resting on his chest. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"What?" He said, pulling me away from him slightly so he could see my face better. Hands held softly onto my elbows. "What do you mean 'why' ?"

I shrugged looking down to avoid his curious eyes, a little embarrassed at my question. "I just... I dunno, I think you're the nicest man I've ever met" catching a quick glance at him, his eyes softened.

"Fucking christ" he breathed with a laugh. "You're just the sweetest thing aren't you? Bet you don't have any idea"

"Any idea about what?" I asked furrowing my brows.

"That I've been crushing on you since you walked into that room on day one of the table read" his hands coming up to rest on either side of my neck, thumbs just under my jaw. "But I don't think now is an appropriate time to tell you all this- I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you being in a vulnerable state, so just ignore me" He was blushing, and fumbling over his words, nervous after his confession. A hand coming to scratch at the scruff on his chin, he cleared his throat, turning away to the rest of the room and said "lets get you into some comfier clothes yeah? We could-"

"N-no" I stuttered, reaching out for his arm quickly. He raised a brow. "Just keep talking? It's helping" I said bashfully, arms wrapping around myself.

He smiled slightly, clearly trying to act more casual about it. "I can do that" he said with a nod.

"Just, sit on the bed o-or something, I'll um, get changed" I said while heading towards my messy suitcase, shifting through the clothes to find something better to wear while Joseph sat on the end of the bed, laying back facing the ceiling with his hands across his stomach.

"Well as I was saying" he said with a laugh. "When you walked into the room, with that big sweater- you were swimming in it but god I thought you looked adorable" he sighed. "You sat next to me, and I remember hiding my pen, just so I could ask you to borrow one, and then when you laughed? I tried so hard to play it cool, but I don't think I did very well" he paused. "I mean how could I when someone as beautiful as you was smiling and laughing, and looking at me with those fucking eyes"

It was almost difficult listening to someone say so many nice things about me, to me, let alone hearing them from Joe himself. The man I had been crushing back on since the first time I saw him.

I smiled to myself listening to the sound of his voice while I finally found the clothes I wanted, a pair of green paperbag shorts and a white t shirt, something comfy enough to relax in, but loose enough to not sweat to death in. Joe was lost in thought, and I watched him out of the corner of my eye while I slipped out of my dress, removing my bra quickly, throwing on a soft bralette in it's place before tugging my shirt over my head. The movement of me untucking my hair from the collar made Joe turn to me briefly and he smiled.

I blushed, looking down bashfully as I tugged the shorts up my hips with a couple of hops. "Distracted?" I teased.

"M'always distracted when I look at you" he said sitting up, holding his hand out to me. I walked over to him slowly, taking his hand in mine.

He pulled me closer to him so I was now stood in-between his legs "How you feeling?" He asked, thumb smoothing over the back of my hand.

"Better" I said honestly. "Still a bit jittery, but better"

"Good" he said smiling.

"I um" I cleared my throat "I have a crush on you as well, by the way"

"I know" he laughed.

"What?" I scoffed "How?"

"You're a great actor when you're acting for the camera, but you're shit when you're with me" He laughed again and his smile spread, all too confident and cheeky. "Every scene we had together you'd tense every time I touched you, and when we had our kiss, I could just feel it"

"O-Oh" I was slightly embarrassed, but I think deep down I always knew that he had some sort of idea, it was getting impossible to hide. Maybe I was trying to hide it from myself more than I was from him. His hand left mine, both of them coming to the back of my thighs, squishing the skin there. I stumbled a little at his touch, my hands coming forward to catch myself on his shoulders.

"Are we going to keep pretending, or can I finally call you mine?"

"I mean we should probably go on a date first" I said jokingly, leaning forward to wrap my arms around his neck, his hands quick to land on my waist.

"Order room service, I'll take you our tomorrow, right now I just want to hold ya, and watch you get all shy when I say nice things about you" he said with a smirk, pulling me into him while he fell back onto the bed, pulling me up and next to him.

"You just want to get me in bed" I teased, playing with the collar of his suit jacket.

"Aren't you already?" he quipped.

I pushed at his shoulder playfully but he only tugged me closer, leaning so he could kiss me on the forehead.

"I'll go get changed while you order food yeah?"

I pouted, holding onto him a little tighter, already not wanting him to be far from me.

"I'll be five minutes, you wont even have time to miss me" he said while pushing some of my hair back and away from my face.

"Kiss me first?" I asked shyly.

Somehow this kiss felt different. We had kissed many times on set, and even had to have a heavy make out session for one scene. But right now, the way he slowly pressed his lips to mine; it made everything inside of me feel aligned, like he was missing from me and it almost took me too long to notice. I sighed happily into the kiss and he hummed in response, breaking away to give me a few extra light pecks before pulling himself from me.

"Five minutes" he said quietly, kissing me one more time before he left, a wide smile on his face.

#hellfiremunsonn #Joseph Quinn #Stranger Things #Joseph Quinn fic #Joseph Quinn fluff #Stranger Things fic #Stranger Things Joseph Quinn #Joseph Quinn Stranger Things #Joseph Quinn x reader #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x reader #Joseph Quinn fan fiction #Stranger Things fluff #Eddie Munson fluff

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERES BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER FOUR: WHAT'S IN OUR SYSTEM

↢ chapter three | series masterlist | chapter five ↣

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [12K]

warnings: no use of y/n, talks / mentions of mental spiral, fluff overload (everyone buckle up and prepare to be mush by the end)

summary: you and steve find yourselves entangled in something else besides your feelings. all of the fun things — skin and bones, breakfast and laughter, goodbyes and hellos. it’s dizzying, like a drug that flows your systems and should have the both of you wondering if it’s in any of your best interests. it’s not worth denying or thinking other wise… you both know you’ve made promises, now it’s up to you both to keep them.

It’s the same room and the same bed Steve had been spending most of his life sleeping in. Worn out and faded gray bed sheets that were long overdue to be replaced and pillows that lost their fluffiness years ago. His bed was nothing special, just the place where he would burrow under after all his hardest days and battles.

But these days his bed was just a place of hiding — somewhere he would go to in order to pass time hoping he could seek comfort even when he knew he couldn’t.

He’d lay and stare up at the ceiling waiting for his parents to drive off so he could finally go down and make himself some food without being victim to a lengthy lecture.

He’d even bunch up the blankets, using them to cover his ears and drown out his parents arguing, which was usually over something so stupid that could’ve been solved with a simple ‘sorry’ or if one of them finally kept quiet and let the other speak.

He managed to master the art of forcing himself to fall asleep so he could escape it, but it always seemed to follow him in his dreams… all the pent up anxiety about the future and how scared he was that he’d turn out just like his parents.

Stuck in the cycle and forcing everyone to walk on eggshells around him.

It was only really a comfortable bed when they weren’t around, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t lonely.

Hearing absolute silence was just as torturous as hearing his mom and dad fight.

A beautiful home, fully furnished that housed the picture perfect family only for it to be amounted to a place that didn’t feel like home at all. What a waste of space that had so much potential for a joyous family to actually live and create memories in. All it was now was filled with loneliness and nightmares.

But there were always those rare occasions where he could dream up a life that didn’t feel so lonely. A place with someone who he cherished and who felt like home to him — more than any furniture or square footage could make him feel.

Last night was one of those nights and only this time he realized it wasn’t a dream.

Through his sluggish eyes, he could still see the indentation in the shape of you from the night before. The little details of the way your arms had laid against the sheets and how your body shifted during the night. Your… his pillow etched with the silhouette of your head and your hair that sprawled over it.

The covers were partly thrown off to the side with you nowhere to be found. And as Steve weakly drew them up just to steal two more minutes of the morning warmth, he was greeted with a big waft of everything you.

The two minutes in bed didn’t seem enticing anymore. He just wanted to get to you now.

Vanilla filling his senses and coaxing his eyes wide awake.

Jasmine brightened up his energy as he made the bed.

Sweet peaches calmed his limbs as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and got himself freshened up for the day.

It should’ve worried him, the way that you could’ve called Nance and have her bring you to Joyce and Hop’s to get your car and head home. Leaving him without saying goodbye or talking about what happened last night. But the anxiety didn’t seem to run through his veins when it came to you or this… he felt safe and tranquil knowing you were still here.

You had put his mind at ease, promising you would be.

Last night he emerged from the bathroom, bare chested with a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his waist. His room was ill-lit, drapes blocking out most of the moonlight, letting only his weak lamp gleam up the corner of the bedroom.

You were already settled and comfortable, fast asleep in his bed. Covers brought up to your shoulders and your knees tucked up, curled like a baby snoozing soundly — or so Steve thought.

He smiled at the sight, content to know that at least you found his bed to be peaceful enough to sleep in. One hand came down to pull the covers up higher over you to keep you warm through the night. His palm lingering over your collarbone, watching and feeling you breathe in and out softly… the memory ingrained in his mind forever now.

“Night, sweet thing.”

It was a muted murmur, the last thing he was supposed to say before he switched off the light and headed downstairs to take the couch, but you had responded.

“Stay,” you stirred softly, shifting against the blankets as you picked up a throaty chuckle. Steve huffing out something about how you almost scared him to death.

But he grinned a tiny bit, crouching down to move the damp strands of hair that covered your cheeks. “You’ve been up this whole time?” he asked quietly, not wanting to invade the tranquil space.

“Mhm,” you crooned, peeping open your eyes to see him through your doziness.

His hair was still wet, itty-bitty beads of water sprinkling his exposed shoulders and the furs on his chest. He looked refreshed, but it was clear that he needed to get some much needed rest.

“We can share the bed, tonight,” you said faintly, bringing one of your hands up from beneath the covers to wrap around his wrist, “please?”

He swore you could feel his pulse in your touch, not that he minded. It felt so raw and so real different from anything he’s ever felt before. Everything about it felt almost sacred, like something out of his wildest dreams just feeling like he was needed by someone when he knew deep down it was him needing you all this time.

“Okay.” He nodded without faltering. He was met with you smiling sleepily at him, finally letting up on his wrist while you moved over to make space for him.

The lamp clicked off, cascading the room with complete darkness as he pulled back the covers and got in beside you. He was careful, putting a few inches between the both of you not knowing if closing it was something you were comfortable with.

“You can come closer,” you whispered quietly, letting your fingertips skim over his arm, letting him know he was alright to do so.

It was almost like second nature, his body drifting closer to you as you closed the remaining millimeters and draped your arms over his. You were like a bear clinging to him, yearning for his warmth and he was pleased to provide it to you on nights like this and forever, for that matter.

“Comfortable?” He chuckled bemused, looking down and seeing your head smushed under his pillow, seeking the proximity the same way he was.

“Extremely.” You sighed contently, breathing him in as your eyes fluttered shut.

Steve’s bed would never be the same, and it’s a sudden pang in his heart when he realized it because now you’ve turned it into a sacred oasis that he never wants to leave.

He swallowed nervously, letting his thumb trace circles over your shoulder. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Me too…very very happy.” You replied sleepily, letting your head nod against his skin letting the sleep consume you.

Steve didn’t want to ruin the moment, to sound desperate when you were trying to fall asleep and so should he. But he just had to ask… to make sure this wasn’t all in his head even when it was so delicate already.

“Will you be here in the morning?” His voice was shaky, trying to keep it stable and composed.

You didn’t waste another second, more awake than ever, as you opened your eyes and smiled up at him.

“I promise.”

That night there wasn’t any silence or his parents fighting — no agonizing sounds keeping him from feeling like this wasn’t a holy place. It was your breathing, gentle inhales and exhales as he watched your chest rise, wondering if you were dreaming about him. With each passing second that he listened to your breathing, taking it in like a lullaby to his ears, he let his eyes float closed, drawing him somewhere where it was just you and him. 

His footsteps echoed on the wooden stairs that he jogged down, turning towards the living room and into the kitchen where he was met with your back facing him.

You were still dressed in his clothes, a pair of striped boxer shorts rolled over your waistline and an old faded Hawkins track team t-shirt — they both looked better on you than it ever did him.

His cheeks rose, lips tugging into a smile as he approached you. His arms rested on either side of the counter, caging you in, “morning, early bird.”

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” you teased with a giggle, leaning into the peck that he pressed on your cheek before turning to him and frowning deceptively. He looked almost worried, like he might have done something wrong, but then you broke into a grin.

“I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed.” You admitted, turning your head to the dining table where you had already prepared some cut up fruit in a bowl with a side of honey and yogurt you found in the fridge.

He ruined your surprise, yet didn’t feel an ounce of regret. Instead, his heart flocked with fever, blood rushing, and his cheeks beginning to grow sore with how much broader he was smiling now.

Breakfast in bed? An actual meal and not just a piece of toast slathered in peanut butter… not that he would ever mind if you brought him that because he’d eat anything you’d give him. But this just feels other worldly.

“That’s sweet,” he replied appreciatively, letting the smile linger on his face because he was quite sure he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to — all of this was just too much for his heart to handle, “but you could’ve slept in, I wouldn’t have minded at all.”

He’d skip breakfast if it meant he got to lie awake in the morning sunlight and watch you dream until you woke. But he also wouldn’t want to pass out on this, the sweetness of the moment with you being here and doing this for him when you didn’t have to.

You shrugged, setting down the whisk you were using for the pancake batter and letting your arms wrap around his neck, stretching yourself into him in a hug. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in his arms, cradling your back and pulling you closer.

“I wanted to… felt right.” Your words springing against his skin like a million tiny kisses.

Right there in that moment, everything felt right.

He pulled back just enough to see you, a pout playing on your lips not being able to hide away in his neck. “Well, at least let me help. I can make a mean scrambled egg.” He smirked, wiggling his brow as you glanced up at him and giggled.

You rested your chin on his chest, keeping your orbs on him, and you’re sure you looked a mess.

Hair still a little tangled within the hideous bun you tossed it up into this morning. And your face looking dull not having the chance to give it a proper wash and moisturize with your beloved products waiting at your apartment.

You shouldn’t feel your best, but all of those silly insecurities don’t seem to matter, not when Steve is looking at you with fondness in his eyes, like he’s done it a million times before. Taking you in like you’re the sunshine and he’s the flora, leaves eager to soak you in and bask in your rays for as long as you’d let him.

Nothing about this feels weird or nerve racking. If anything, it feels comfortable, like home. A kind of familiarity the two of you just decided to lie in together.

Finally, after all the morning ogling, you answer him. “I’d be a fool to pass out on it, Chef Harrington.”

You tapped your fingertips along the back of his neck and he laughed at the feeling, tucking his chin down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “On it.”

Steve has moved around this kitchen many times before. He’s not the best cook in the world, almost cuts his fingers off every time he tries to finely chop ingredients or nearly burns himself with how hot he lets the pan get. But he knows how to cook food that tastes good and keeps him fed.

But you… you moved around his kitchen like it’s the waltz and you made it look effortless. The way you strode from the cabinets in search of something, eyes lighting up when you found the brown sugar and hugging it to your chest as you stepped back to grab a small bowl. You poured a teeny serving in, rolling the bag shut and striding back to put it where you found it.

You took the gooey eggshells from his hands as you swept past him, discarding them into the trash and giving your hands a wash under the tap before you dried them on a towel resting on the counter. Then you’re back at the stove, peppering a light dust of brown sugar over the raw pancake batter and giving them a flip.

It’s as if you rehearsed it — the rise and fall of every movement you make and how you make the space feel alive even in the early hours. It’s an addicting sight, like something Steve wants to watch over and over again in real time… but only, there are eggs in his pan and he’d be damned if he would mess up the first thing he’s ever cooked for you.

“What’s that for?” Steve cleared his throat with a cough, tearing his eyes from you and turning them towards the stove.

You hummed, facing him and observing how he pulled the raw eggs towards the center of the pan with the spatula. He’s focused — you’re about to have the best scrambled eggs of your life and the slight tip he gives the pan proves it to you.

“It gives them a little crust with some sweetness. That way, you don’t have to use too much syrup and it doesn’t get soggy by the time you’re done cooking them all.” You told him.

“And where’d you learn that?” He asked, taking his eyes off the pan and bringing them straight to yours.

Your shoulders bounced, bottom lip moving over your top one. “Nowhere specific, kinda just experimented, and it worked!”

Steve should’ve known… you’re far better in the kitchen than he is and he’d take all your advice, self taught or read in a cookbook.

“Smart girl.” He complimented with a coy smile as you grinned before you both turned back to the dishes.

The next seven minutes were spent with Steve plating the eggs and you forming a stack of brown sugar pancakes on top of one another. He worked on setting the table, grabbing extra napkins to get close by and making sure you both had clean glasses.

Even when you weren’t at home, you were always trying to be a good host. This time finding yourself in his fridge, moving bottles and containers over as if it would help you find something that wasn’t there.

“Are you sure you don’t want orange juice? I swear I could juice some right now!” You called out, eyeing the fresh fruits that sat in the produce drawer.

Steve barked out a laugh, head shaking, when you turned your head over your shoulder to see him. His eyes pointed to the table, the empty seat that was yours waiting for you. “Stop it! Water is fine… just come to the table, please.”

You huffed defeatedly with phony annoyance, strolling to the table with nothing in hand as Steve already grabbed you both a fresh cup of cold water. He made a scene, pretending to bow as he dramatically dragged your chair out for you while you covered your face and snickered behind them. You took a seat and even let him push you in.

The both of you opt to side by side instead of face to face — it was more comfortable and special that way, even when your knees occasionally bumped under the table.

“Thanks for doing this for me,” Steve spoke suddenly, grasping your wrist and holding it gently.

He said it like you didn’t use all of his groceries and made a mess of his kitchen. Like you were doing him a favor, something he didn’t deserve, when all you wanted to do was show him how much he deserved all the special moments of life, even homemade breakfast.

You grinned timidly, swinging your head as your other hand rested on top of his, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. “It’s really no problem. You did let me spend the night and take your bed.”

His face fell with feign skepticism. “Technically, we shared,” he countered with a lifted brow.

You rolled your eyes, clicking your tongue. “Okay, yeah, but still! I wanted to do this…really really wanted to do this for you.”

Steve could read between the lines, understanding where you were getting at without actually saying it.

How yesterday the mental spiral had taken a toll on him even after you promised you would spend the night at his. He was particularly quiet, keeping to himself and not having the energy to do much talking, but you didn’t mind, frequently turning to him and offering a comforting glimpse, rubbing a tender hand over his shoulder to ease his nerves.

You didn’t make him feel like there was something wrong with him or try to force him into the conversations when he didn’t want to. Instead, you let him be and made it clear that everything was alright. That you would be there when he felt lost and scared, even if he striked out and had to crawl back home.

He shouldn’t have turned the night he was anticipating into a long road of catastrophic blues. The words the kids had said without thinking should’ve bounced off of him like nothing. But instead he spent the night beside you wondering if how he was feeling was a mistake, if it was really all in his head the way he thought it was, or maybe how wrong and selfish it was to ask you to stay the night.

The whirlwind of uncertainty floating away when you grabbed his hand from under the table and gave it three squeezes when no one was paying attention. It was then and there that he knew you didn’t have any plans to leave… at least not without him.

All of that was true, seeing as though you were here in front of him.

He smiled kindly, eyes full of gratitude for you taking the time to do this for him even if it meant you missed out a few more minutes of sleep. Soon he’d find a way to make it up to you, but he wasn’t quite sure if anything he did would top this.

The two of you plated yourselves some food, digging in and enjoying one another’s presence in the early morning air that enveloped you both. And as per usual, Steve wasn’t subtle when it came to something you’ve made yourself. His fork clinked against the plate after he took a bite of the pancakes, throwing his head back on the chair and moaning loudly as he chewed.

“You’re a dork!” You chided, shaking your head as you laughed and slapped a hand over your mouth.

His head lifted up slightly, patting his bare stomach and giving it a rub. “That’s incredible, you’ve gotta trademark that or something.”

“I don’t think I could trademark food, can I?” Your eyes narrowed, thinking if that was a possibility because it didn’t sound bad.

He shrugged, sitting up straight and cutting himself another piece. “No clue, but you should try it. This is better than the boxed stuff,” he said, popping the fork into his mouth.

“It’s not too tricky, I could teach you how to make the batter from scratch next time?” You offered with a warm smile, eyes showing how genuine you really were about it.

He smiled tightly, nodding his head and speaking with a half full mouth making you grin. “I’d keep the recipe a secret… promise.”

Like something alike, you wanted to keep him a secret, and you’d be his if he let you.

But it would be a shame for either of you to be each other’s secret. Neither of you wanted to hide the other away from the world — far from that, actually.

He’d shout it from the rooftops and you’d paint it in the skyline — how special you both were to each other even after this short time. Have you both known each other for twenty seconds or twenty years?

Neither of you knew nor did you care because all that mattered was the lifetime you wanted to spend together like this. How this morning and last night felt so easy, as if you’ve spent the night in each other’s arms and woke up in them in some past life before.

Time was funny, but you and Steve never minded, not when this kind of feeling was soaring through your systems at an alarming pace.

The table was quiet for a few minutes, just the forks running against the ceramic and tolerable chewing. The two of you were stealing glances at each other when he was too busy spooning yogurt into his mouth and when you stared out the window watching the birds fly by.

Steve dredged his fingers clean, propping his elbow on the table as he watched you pick up the ice cold glass of water and finally tear your eyes away from the window to catch him. 

“How do you like Joyce and Hop?” He proposed, not getting the chance to ask you last night before you both went to bed. 

You gulped down the water, eyes lighting up. “Oh, they’re wonderful! They were really welcoming and made me feel right at home.”

He wasn’t surprised at all; he knew they’d love you and you’d love them — Hop and Joyce practically talked your ear off and you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit, grateful that they were keen on getting to know you better without making you feel like you were being interrogated. 

“Hopper didn’t bore you with his do-it-yourself kitchen renovation stories?” He questioned with a chuckle, reliving the vile conversation that came up during the dinner.

You scrunched your nose, catching his drift right away and your shoulders shuddering a bit. “I could’ve gone without knowing he found a huge rat in the walls, but at least now I know if I need an exterminator I could give him a call.”

“Trust me, he would have way too much fun going around and looking for things to fix.” He warned with no actual malice, just preparing you for the dad-mode Hop would be in if the occasion ever arose.

You snapped your finger as if you remembered something.

“Like the lock Max picked! It was pretty impressive, but I think it’s also a major safety issue.” Your voice falling with the realization.

He furrowed his brows, dropping his chin from his fists, face painted with worry and confusion. “Wait, Max picked your lock? When was this?”

“Oh, Robin didn’t tell you?” he shook his head, watching you sit up, “they stopped by that morning after you left and I guess I forgot to set my alarm and they were waiting outside in the hot sun so Max picked the lock to get in.” 

You revealed the situation like it was totally normal for them to be breaking and entering. Meanwhile, Steve’s head was whirling with fear at how easy your lock must have been to pick if they managed to get in even after he was sure he locked it from the inside before he left.

He would definitely tell you later to get the locks changed for safety purposes. 

Steve let out an exasperated sigh, letting his shoulders slump with disappointment. “I swore I told her to stop doing that.”

You lifted your brow suspiciously. “Did she pick your lock?”

“Worse.” He groaned, pinching his eyes shut at the memory from a few months ago. “She picked the lock to the arcade just after closing so she could beat Dustin’s high score on Dig Dug.”

You gasped, eyes widened slightly, and a laugh caught midway through your chest. “Did she get caught?” You asked partly stifled, not believing she could actually get away with it. 

But he shook his head, further surprising you and somehow your eyes got larger, watching as he mimed her actions.

“She went to the back room and deleted the security camera footage before leaving. That’s when Robin and I closed up Family Video and caught her trying to leave out the backdoor.”

“What happened after?” You leaned in closer, waiting for the continuation of the story.

He lifted his hand in a dismissive manner, lips pursing accompanied with a playful tone in his voice, “Oh you know, classic lecture and threats of taking her to Hopper—”

You didn’t look convinced, narrowing your eyes. “She wasn’t scared at all was she?”

“Not one bit,” he deadpanned before smiling defeatedly, “she asked me to give her a ride home and gave Robin a stuffed animal she stole from the backroom.”

“You know she could make a stealthy spy.” You pointed your fork at him before stabbing a piece of apple on its prongs.

He crossed his arms across his chest and sneered, “Oh trust me, she does enough snooping… alllll of the kids do.”

“But they’re all really sweet. They probably all have good intentions and just might have questionable ways of going about it.”

He knew you were right, and yesterday was a prime example of that.

The kids meant well just trying to get him to finally fess up his feelings that had been harboring since the moment he laid eyes on you. Their goal was never to send Steve into such a mental spiral that it caused him to combust internally and detach for the rest of the night. It would be unfair of him to ever think that of them because it was far from what they were.

They all were good kids, cared about each other and wanted the best for everyone they loved, especially him. They all knew how much Steve sacrificed for them, plenty of times of almost getting fired for giving out free ice cream and letting them off the hook for returning their tapes late.

It was about time that they helped Steve in the only way they knew how, which was trying to encourage him to make a move on the girl of his dreams, and they had no idea it would have ended up like that.

He felt like an asshole for the way he acted towards them. They were young and just wanted to see him happy, but instead they saw him moody and petulant.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes glazed over, sitting stiffly in the dining chair instead of the relaxed way he was just moments ago. You reached out a hand, setting it on his forearm and letting it move and up and down.

“Are you okay, Stevie?”

He blinked, instantly melting back into the relaxed state once your touch was on his. A half smile quirking up on the corner of his lips, thankful for your concern and quickness.

“Thought I told you not to worry about me?”

Your concern faded slightly, a warm glint in your eye now. “Thought I told you I would, anyway.”

“I’m never gonna win, am I?” He frowned sarcastically, watching as your hand fell back to the table.

“Nope! Now, what’s on your mind?” You ordered, shifting your body to face him fully with your knees settling against his.

You looked determined to figure it out and try to help him. To get into his mind and kick those worries away. Your elbows resting on your thighs as you kept your eyes on him, patiently waiting until he was ready.

He ran a rough palm over his face, wriggling his shoulders. “Just thinking about how stupid I acted at the party last night. Felt like a ghost with how quiet I was.”

“You didn’t act stupid at all,” your voice filled with confidence while you shook your head, “you just needed a little break and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I felt like an asshole.” His voice trailed off with annoyance with himself. 

“Don’t say that,” you pouted, poking his chest with a disapproving look on your face. “You’re not an asshole.”

He always found it endearing, your ability to always see the best in him, even when he knew he wasn’t at his best. Usually Steve’s always upbeat when it came to the friends and the kids, he’s known to be the friendliest of them all, but last night he felt far from that. As if he was the stranger sitting at the table lost in his own thoughts. 

“You sure?” He asked like you’d ever lie to make him feel better. 

You chuckled, nodding undoubtedly. “I’ve encountered a few assholes in my life and you’re waaaay off from one. You’re like the most non-asshole guy I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?” This time a twinge of playfulness came with the question.

Nodding obviously, you leaned closer to him, your face hanging only inches away from his.

“A guy who memorizes a girl’s coffee order and picks up her favorite pastries when she’s far from a morning person?” Your lips curled into a smile. “I’m positive you’re not an asshole.”

Like a force of habit, his palm cradled your cheek, while you continued to stare up at him like he hadn’t been thinking so horribly about himself just moments ago. He was getting lost in your eyes; the ones filled with so much devotion and softness for the moment and how even this is enough for him.

“What if I just so happened to steal that cronut recipe?” He mumbled just clear enough for you to hear. 

You pushed back against his touch, cheek rising suspiciously in the palm of his hand. “Why? Are you hiding it from me? Because if you are, then that’s cruel!”

A dimpled smile broke out on his face, closing his eyes blissfully and swinging his head no. There’s laughter erupting from you and he could feel it in the way the apple of your cheeks leaped against his palm. You didn’t shy away from his hand, letting yourself stick to him like the sweetest honey, and he didn’t care about the mess. 

The real mess was whatever was in your systems.

He finally spoke. “No, but I know a stealthy spy who could help me break in and get it.”

You rolled your eyes, tongue in cheek. “You’re trouble, Harrington.”

The pulse point on his wrists felt your lips before he could comprehend what was happening. Your plush skin grazing his skin lightly, a kind of kiss that felt electrifying even when it wasn’t upon his own lips. It’s innocent yet still all around tantalizing, the urge to tell you that he’s crazy for you on the tip of this tongue more than ever now. 

He was sure before that he’d go through all the trouble if it meant making you happy, but now he’s positive he’d even break into a family-owned establishment to get you that secret recipe – and most importantly, to feel you like this every morning. 

His pulse was undeniably thumping against your lips, though you didn’t mind, letting them stay for a minute until the phone abruptly rang and you were tearing away from his hold, ripping yourself from him like a bandaid that took the skin with it. His wrist began to feel lonely, pulse feeling like it’s dying out not having you there anymore.

To your surprise, you weren’t feeling at all embarrassed, simply just giddy as he cursed apologetically and let his hand fall into his lap as he got up. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here!” You vowed, tipping your head back to watch as he left the kitchen.

It was only seven in the morning and he never got calls this early. Ever. Unless it was the kids. 

“Hello,” he answered, pressing the hunk of plastic to his ear. 

“Hey, kid,” it was Hopper, “how are, umm, you and the girl?” 

Steve peeked back into the kitchen, seeing you finishing up the rest of the cut up fruit. “We’re having breakfast right now. What’s up?”

“Honey! They’re already having breakfast!” Hop called out, sound a bit far away. 

“Crap!” Joyce wailed out in the background. 

Steve laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Sorry. If you would’ve called half an hour ago, we’d still be in bed.”

“You guys shared the bed?” Hop inquired, his voice accusing and curious at the same time.

“Well… yeah.” Steve didn’t have any reason to lie, but he was regretting it the second it left his mouth.

“Soooo… s’that why you both left early yesterday?” Hop suggested, sounding more interested in conversing now. 

Steve turned away from the adjoining wall, cupping his hand over the receiver as he spoke sharply. “What? No! We left early because I was crabby and she was getting tired.”

A puff of air came from the other end, Hoppers laugh heavy. “You know you don’t have to lie—”

“Oh my god, I’m hanging up, now.” Steve’s fingers were ready to press the hook switch to end the call. 

“Tell your girl I checked her tire pressure and added some air into her back left wheel, thing was nearly deflated.” 

“Yeah okay, appreciate it. We’ll be there in a few.” 

There’s talking in the background, he could hear Joyce saying something and Hopper attempting to cut her off with ‘yeah’s’ and ‘got' it’s.’

“And Joyce says she’ll save some breakfast sandwiches.” Hop grumbles.

“Okay, thanks, bye.” Steve said rushed, pulling the phone away from his ear.

He placed the phone back onto the rest, shaking his head a bit at the teasing he often faced from Hopper, but it was all in good fun. At times, he felt that Hop and Joyce were more like parents to him than his own. Hell, they knew more about his life than his parents ever did. 

“Who was that?”

He took a seat beside you again. “Hop. I think Joyce made him call to ask if we wanted some breakfast.”

“Oh no, I hope she didn’t go through too much trouble.”

Steve shook his head, reassuring you. “She said she’d save us breakfast sandwiches for when we go and get your car.”

“That’s sweet of her.” You bubble, a smile replacing how apologetic you feel for missing out on her breakfast.

“And Hop said to tell you he checked your tire pressure and filled the back left one up with air.” Steve informed you, watching the way your eyes filled with appreciation and surprise.

“Oh my god, he’s the best! How much do I owe him?”

You’re a lot of things — talented, kind, beautiful, all around down to Earth, but you don’t know much about cars and he doesn’t blame you because they’re boring, but he now realized he can never let you walk into an auto shop alone and let you be victim to those premium air scams.

“Nothing, sweetheart. The air is free, and he just uses a special machine to fill it up.”

“But it must have taken him forever.” You protest with a deep breath, determination behind your voice like you’re sure of it and you want to compensate the old guy.

Steve’s face softened, moving over to clutch your hand and give it a squeeze. “He takes longer to pick up donuts and head into work. Filling up tires is easy peasy for him, I promise you.”

“You sure?” You bit your lip still feeling a bit bad for Hop going out of his way.

He nodded, giving your hand another squeeze. “Positive.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“Just curious as to why we left early last night. Told him I was crabby, and you were getting sleepy.”

“I wasn’t that tired.” You mumbled.

Steve scoffed, forehead creasing up because you clearly didn’t see yourself how he saw you last night. “Sweetheart, your eyes drooping on the drive home.”

“No, they weren’t!” You half-laughed in defense, palms resting on the table. 

“You fell asleep so quickly last night.” He pointed, roaring at the way you gave in and blushed. 

“I was just really comfortable.” You whined, lifting your eyes away from his in an attempt to stop yourself from looking like a dork. 

“Yeah, you looked super comfortable. You were even snoring a little.”

You shrieked, a small scream coming from your throat and hands covering your face. “Was I?” God, that’s embarrassing!”

He wrapped his fingers around your wrists, working them away from your face without any resistance. Your eyes met with his smile and headshake. “No, it was cute! You’re just lucky you fell asleep first because had you not my snoring would’ve kept you up.”

“I think I’d be able to fall asleep either way. It was so comfy.”

What you really meant to say was that he’s comfy — practically was your space heater and human pillow. You would be a liar if you didn’t think that you were a bit too clingy last night, but he didn’t seem to mind from what you remembered and it felt nice not having to apologize for that. You know Steve would’ve told you if he didn’t like it; he was always honest with you. 

“Would it be okay if I had another shower before we leave?” You watched him stack the plates, getting up and walking them over to the sink. 

“Course! Go and I’ll take care of the dishes.” He replied, taking the bowls you had stacked from your hands. 

You willingly handed them over, following him to the counters. “No, c’mon let me dry and you can wash,” attempting to reach into the drawers to retrieve a clean kitchen towel.

But he blocked you, keeping his hip attached to the wood. “No, go on and shower. I’m not moving till your butt is walking upstairs.”

You both knew he wouldn’t relent, not like the first time you’d stepped into his home and insisted you helped gather plates and cutlery. Things were different now, with time grew comfortability, but also playfulness and ease.

“Fine!” you fussed, trudging away dramatically. 

“Did you need to borrow clothes?” He called out, arms folded over his chest as he watched you.

You halted near the doorway, spinning and wrapping your arms round the frame, smiling stupidly at him. “Please? I would use my clothes, but they still smell like charcoal.”

“Pick whatever you want, and leave the dirty ones in the hamper. I’ll do a load before we leave.”

“Thanks! You’re the best!” You singsonged, making your way up the stairs leaving him with the biggest love sick smile on his face.

The Harrington house has never felt this homey and for Steve it’s a feeling that he never wants to fleet. His fists running under lukewarm water scrubbing dishes that weren’t only used by him but by someone whom he wanted to stay with. The lip print you had left around the cusp of the glass, suds away, and he wondered when was the next time you’d be coming around. 

Clean dishes pile onto the kitchen rag you laid out before you went to shower. He decided to let them air dry instead, making better use of his time by heading upstairs and grabbing the hamper of dirty laundry filled with both yours and his clothes.

Strolling down the hallway, he heard the sound of the running water in the shower accompanied by your hums to a tune he couldn’t pick up from behind the wooden door. Though it doesn’t fail to make him smile, pleased that you felt so comfortable at his place already. Turning into his bedroom, he fetched the laundry basket, twisting back around to head downstairs towards the washing machine. 

Steve had never put much thought into actually taking the time to do separate loads of laundry, honestly just sticking everything in one wash and throwing them in the dryer as any other person would do. He was guilty, a few times some of his white t-shirts would dye a bright green from his work vest but they were replaceable.

It’s only then when your clothes are in his care that he takes the time to read the labels to make sure he’s washing them properly. Your floral long sleeve, safe to wash along with the rest of the other garments. But he doesn’t risk it with the denim overalls, deciding that it’s best for them to have its own cycle to prevent it from fading too much and wearing the material down.

A hefty scoop of detergent goes in with the wash before he clicks start, and the whirling begins.

Your fingers reached for the lotion bottle that sat on his bathroom counter, pumping a dollop into your palm and spreading it across your damp skin. Though it’s unscented, it still smelled like Steve, a hint of him layering itself over the body wash you just used in his shower a moment ago. When the two are paired together, it’s a reminder that you didn’t wash away his touch from last night or this morning, but now you felt like you were reapplying it like a second layer of skin.

You worked the tan buttons that lined the front placket through the buttonholes, leaving the first two undone for a more casual feel, letting it droop down one of your shoulders. Another pair of his boxer shorts, this time light blue colored, rolled up over your hips to fit snuggly.

Running your hands down your sides, you took a deep breath in the mirror, satisfied with the way you looked despite the slouchy fit to the oversized garments. You liked the way you looked in Steve's clothes, no matter how baggy they were on you. 

“Let me fix…this,” you complained to yourself, motioning around your head before tugging your hair out of the bun and letting it fall down your back.

Your fingers worked through the roots, giving them a bit of volume while the other brushed the ends, untangling some of the knots. You sectioned your hair in half, keeping the top half in a little bun in the back of your head while the bottom half flowed down nicely.

Grabbing your damp towel off the counter, you hung it on the rack before hitting the light switch off and opening the door.

“Oops, sorry!” You yelped, running smack dab into Steve’s side as he walked by.

He tsked at himself, immediately stabilizing you by the shoulders. “Oh, shit, sorry,” he paused, the two of you laughing now before he looked down and realized what you were wearing. “Woah, you look nice.”

Your fingers played with the sleeves that nearly covered your palms, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hope you don’t mind. It looked nice.”

Steve shook his head, shamelessly admiring the way it looked on you. He hasn’t worn the button down in a few weeks, forgetting it was even in his closet, but glad you found it and picked it out for yourself. 

“Looks better on you.” His hands rubbed up and down the sleeves before nodding his head towards his bedroom where you followed. 

He headed for his closet, pulling the accordion doors open while you plopped down comfortably onto his neatly made bed, shifting onto your stomach as you observed him. 

“Got any idea on what I should wear?” 

“Dark jeans? Maybe some Nikes?” You suggested, propping your chin up on your arms.

“Nude top half?” He said, and you could feel the smirk in his voice.

You snorted. “Shut up. You’ll look good in whatever you pick.”

He plucked some pieces off the hangers, shutting the doors before turning to you. “Just teasing. I’ll be quick and then we’ll be out of here.”

“Take your time…do you mind if I sketch?” 

You looked towards his desk, eyeing the yellow notepad that sat on top of the rest of his belongings. He nodded, walking up to it and grabbing a pen and pencil and handing them to you. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you!” You took it from him, getting to work as he walked across the hall. 

You didn’t take yourself seriously with the sketch, drawing up whatever you had in your head. It’s what you had woken up to that morning—Steve’s arm slung across your stomach with his face in the crook of your neck. Snores and breaths greeting your skin in the purest kind of way, even if it had gotten you up a little earlier. 

You wished you had a polaroid around to capture the scene, but thankfully your photographic memory wouldn’t ever let you forget it. Such a sight to see the sun peeking in through the cracks of the curtains, spilling a beautiful glow over his back that made each and every single one of his beauty marks stand out – now you were positive you knew where each other was. 

He looked at peace, face no longer sulked and somber like it had been the night prior. The crease between his brow ironed out, not a glimmer of anxiety as he dreamed…if only you could convince him to stay right there forever because you didn’t want to share. 

“Ready?”

Losing track of time when you were lost within the pen and paper wasn’t abnormal, but being pulled out of the trance by a beautiful boy was something new. You peered up from the page, breath hitched as you took all of him in.

A color block polo — dark blue to compliment the wash of his jeans and cream in the center. You liked to think he was matching you in a way. 

“You look really good.” You complimented with a tight smile, capping the pen and rolling off of your stomach. 

“You picked it so thank you.” 

He turned to his drawers, pulling them open to get a clean pair of socks. Unbeknownst to him, you ripped the sketch off the pad, folding it and slipping it under one of the corners of his landline, just enough of it peeking out for him to find later.

You slung your bag over your shoulder, giving yourself a one over in the hanging mirror before Steve finally shut the drawer and turned back to you. 

“The wash isn’t done yet?” He said, letting you walk in front before he closed his door behind him. 

You hummed out a no, listening closely to hear the slight rumbling of the machine. “I can still hear it running.”

You both stopped at the front door, Steve leaning against the wall as he slipped his socks on and pushed them into his Nikes. Undoing the laces, he knotted them tighter, pulling the strings taut.

“I’ll pop them in the dryer when I get home and give you your stuff the next time I see you?”

“That’s perfect, and I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other soon.” You assured him, bending down as you strapped your sandals on. 

He waited until you were ready, opening the front door for you and then reaching into his pockets for the keys. With your back facing him, you looked out on his driveway, seeing how the shiny red hood reflected the sunlight. It was practically spotless, not even a smidge of dirt across his front bumper — he must have really adored his car. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you how nice your car is.” 

“You know she used to be cleaner before the kids started eating and leaving their crumbs behind.” He told you, his fingers twisted the front door to make sure it was locked, which it was. 

“They’ve got you wrapped around their pinkies.” You nudged him as you walked down his driveway. 

He wiggled the keys in the air. “Wanna give it a drive?”

“HA! You’re so funny.”

“No, I’m serious.” He added, placing the keys in your hands and closing your fingers around them. 

“You’re gonna let me drive your fancy car?” 

He laughed comically, unsure why it seemed so out of this world to you that he would let you drive his car. You’re probably the only person Steve trusted to drive it. You’re responsible, and unlike Eddie, he knows you won’t try to race the other cars on the road. 

“You’ve got your license, which means you know how to operate a car. Fancy or not.” 

“You sure?” You sought again skeptically, giving him one last chance to back out. 

“I trust you. Now c’mon, I’ll give you directions and everything and this time you won’t get lost.” He assured you, walking over to the driver’s side holding the door open for you. 

“You put way too much trust in me, Steve.” You puffed with a weak laugh, walking over to get in.

“Actually, just the right amount.” He patted the top of the hood before shutting the door. 

He held his hands out for your purse, resting it in his lap as you began adjusting the seat and mirrors to your liking. Steve reminded you that it was okay to adjust it as much as you needed, that he would be able to fix it all back to normal later. Before you knew it, you were on the road, driving in probably the nicest car you’ve ever driven in your life while the radio played and Steve gave you directions to Joyce and Hop’s.

“And ladies and gentlemen, we’ve arrived…alive!” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth, announcing it with a deep voice as you giggled. 

“Stop it!” You placed the car into park before nudging his shoulder with a feeble fist.

His hands let up, looking in your direction with a small smile showing up. “I knew you’d do good.”

 “Got my half broken down piece of crap to thank.” You joked, jutting your chin to your less than adorned car parked beside his.

“You know Eddie’s uncle knows a thing or two about cars? Maybe he could check it out one day?”

“Oh my god, please?”

“I’ll call Eds today and see what Wayne can do.” 

“You’re amazing.” 

Steve felt like he’d been reduced to a fit of smiles and sore cheeks all morning, taking in your compliments and passing them back to you. He’s used to people thanking him, but never for the bare minimum parts he promises you he’ll never break. It’s something he could get acquainted with, and he hoped it would never end. 

Within his peripheral vision, he could see the family begin to crowd the porch, watching through the windshield. “Looks like we’ve got a crowd.” 

“I’m not surprised.” You retorted, making the first move to remove the key from the ignition and open the door. 

“Morning!” You hailed out loud, tossing the keys over to Steve as he locked it up. 

“You let her drive your car!” El exclaimed, though you were both pretty sure she meant it as a question. 

“Mhm, she’s horrible, a menace to society. You should arrest her right now, Hop.” Steve answered seriously, patting Hop on the behind with a growing smirk. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You snorted, waking over to give the kids and Jonathan a hug. 

“Had a fun night?” Hop urged, leaning against the post. 

You nodded, looking up at Steve. “More like relaxing… Steve’s shower pressure is perfect, better than the one I have at home.” You informed them, missing the smirks that fell on Hop and Jonathan’s faces. 

Hop stuck his hand out, pushing at Steve’s shoulder roughly. “Oh, I’m sure Steve has the right amount of pressure somewhere else—”

Joyce erupted with a loud cough, picking up your attention and catching her stomp on his foot in the process, while he winced, cursing under his breath.

“Inside!” She blurted, clearing her throat and gesturing to the front door, "I’m gonna give you the dish you brought inside! I just washed and dried it a little while ago.”

“Oh, okay!”

The spectators on the front porch waited until you were out of reach to start talking about what was going through their minds since you and Steve left last night. It was a short goodbye; you thanking Joyce and Hop for having you over and giving everyone else a hug while Steve waited by until you were done. Safe to say, once you both drove off, they all speculated on what was going to happen and why you were really spending the night at his.

“You’re disgusting, dad.” Will scowled, shaking his head with revulsion. 

Hopper ignored him, looking over at Steve. “She’s wearing your clothes.”

“Okay and?” Steve said, looking a little annoyed at how anyone was crediting him for the truth. 

“You two had sex.” He declared flatly, a grin tugging up on his lips as the porch exploded with grunts and obscenities to shut up. 

“Oh, my god!” Jonathan choked on his spit, turning away and laughing.  

“Gross!” El yelped, covering her tomato red face. 

“I think I’m gonna barf.” Will declared, dramatically clutching his stomach. 

Steve rolled his eyes at their ignorance, arms crossing over his chest. “Believe it or not, I don’t need to have sex with her to have a good night.”

“Wow, isn’t that the first?” Jonathan bantered with a satirical inflection in his tone. 

“Is that a hickey on your neck?” Steve narrowed his eyes, pointed at the purple bruise hiding behind his messy hair. 

“I’m definitely gonna throw up.” Will gagged, turning away and covering his mouth.

El frowned, looking down at her chipped nails. “Is that why Nancy didn’t want to paint my nails last night?”

Hop looked between the youngest and the oldest. “I thought she left with Robin after the barbecue.”

“Oh my god, this isn’t about me!” Jonathan stammered, slapping a hand behind his ear to hide the love bite. 

“What happened?” You buzzed, strolling back out to the porch with the glass bowl in hand and Joyce beside you.

Steve grinned wickedly, happy that he got them off his back, turning to Jonathan and smacking him over the head lightly. “Nothing, just teasing him.”

“Speaking of, Jonathan, don’t you need to give her something?” Joyce’s eyes darted to the back of his pocket where the flyer was folded up. 

He reached behind him, passing it over to you, Steve taking the bowl from your hands so that you could unfold it and read its contents. A bright graphic announcement of a farmer’s market that would be hosted in Hawkins next weekend. 

“Nance meant to give it to you last night, but she forgot,” Jonathan began, “We’re trying to get the town rallying behind small business before they all get driven out. She was wondering if you wanted to help out and host a booth.”

“Like a bake sale?” You proposed. 

He shrugged, looking over at his brother for some guidance. “Kinda, but she was thinking of it as a bake sale and art sale combined.”

Will chimed in without missing a beat. “I pitched the idea to Nance, and she seemed to really like it. I could help you manage the booth. I’ll take the art side and you can handle the baked goods, then we switch around the halfway mark.”

“That’s genius.” You grinned, reaching back to rubbing his shoulder proudly. 

“No really, you guys should do it.” Steve supported from behind you knowing that you would be great at something like this. 

El let out a gasp, clutching your shoulder lightly as she wedged herself between you and Steve. “I can help with the money! I’m getting better at counting change!” She spoke bubbly, making you and him laugh.

“Nancy’s covering the whole thing and writing a paper about it. She’s really hoping to get it published.”

You’d help out either way knowing that this was an important cause, but hearing about how Nancy was the leader of this whole thing made you want to help even more. She was so passionate when talking to you about her love for writing and keeping these mom-and-pops in her town up and running — you were definitely in. 

“Well, tell her I’d be happy to help!” You replied warmly, folding up the paper and sticking it in your purse. 

“Great! I’ll let her know!”

You twisted your head, looking over at Hop. “Oh! And thank you for filling up the tire!” 

“No problem, kid.”

“It didn’t take you long, no?” 

“Easy as could be.” The older man assured you with his tongue clicking. 

“Told ya.” Steve smirked, pressing his elbow gently into your side, making you giggle. 

The two of you didn’t notice how the family was watching the way you and Steve interacted like a couple, so oblivious to the small touches and teasing that usually never came with everyone else. It was the kids who stepped forward, breaking up the love dove fest between the both of you. Will slung his arm over Steve’s shoulder and El rested her chin on his shoulder with those puppy eyes that the babysitter could not say no to, even after the meltdown last night. 

“Steve, could you give us a ride to the arcade? Lucas and Max are already there.”

Steve scoffed, glancing over at the other adults around. “You’ve got your parents and your brother here who all have licenses you know.”

“Hop and I are gonna go run errands!” Joyce clapped her hands, gawking up at Hop who snapped out of it and nodded agreeingly.

“Gotta go see Nancy.” Jonathan tried to excuse himself.

It was no use. Steve was ultimately the go-to chauffeur, the best and safest driver who wouldn’t only take them to point A and B, but stayed until they were ready to go back home and occasionally gave them spare change when they ran out. 

“Go get changed.” Steve exhaled, utterly defeated.

El and Will cheered, detaching themselves from his sides before engulfing you in a quick, yet tight hug. “Bye! We’ll see you!” They said before rushing inside. 

“Bye-bye, kiddos.”

Steve looked over at you, tilting his head towards your car. “C’mon, I’ll walk you.” 

You nodded, twiddling your fingers at Jonathan and his parents. “Bye guys, thanks again!”

“See ya sweetie.”

Steve stepped a bit ahead of you, opening the driver door when you clicked the fob before moving towards the back seat and putting the dishware on the empty seats. You waited until he shut the door before reaching up and wrapping him up in a hug. 

Your bodies molded together, like they’ve done times before, holding one another properly like it was routine by now. His face in the crook of your neck while you tiptoed and rested your forehead under his jaw. 

“Drive home safe okay?” He squeezed your back, feeling the skin indent through the garment. 

“I will.” You promised, taking a deep breath of him in, savoring everything right now. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t let anyone beat Max’s high score on Dig Dug.” You spoke half jokingly. 

“I’ll try.” He huffed out against your neck 

“Tell me about it later.”

He gave your back one last gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss to your temple before he released you and let you get into the front seat. You hadn’t made the move to close the door yet, just settling in by placing your bag on the passenger seat and twisting on the ignition.

“You still have a full tank?” Steve peered a ways bit in, his focus on the arrow on your dashboard. He got a glimpse of the red light that switched on, making a mental note to bring it up to Eddie later today.

You took a peek, nodding and looking up to meet his gaze. “A little more than half. I should be okay for the drive home.”

“Okay, sorry, just wanted to make sure. Didn’t want you running out on the highway.” He apologized sheepishly, raking a hand through his hair. 

“No, it’s alright, it was sweet.” You giggled, moving up to tuck a stray piece of hair away from his eyes. 

He gulped, your hand still trying to place the piece with his roots. “See you in a few days?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding your head, “a few days.” You agreed, fingertips finally trailing over his cheek and jaw before falling back into your lap. 

“O-okay… great, awesome, get home safe.” He sputtered slightly, eyes still holding yours. 

“You too! Oh, and Steve?” You stopped him from moving away from your car, though he wasn’t making plans to, anyway.

“Yeah?”

“I might have left something on your desk, but you can just check it out later okay?”

“Something important? I can drive down and get it real quick?”

You shook your head immediately. “No, no, I mean yeah, it’s important, but not that important… well I kinda hope that it is important, to you I mean — sorry, am I rambling?”

“Not at all.” He said, biting back a chuckle. 

“Just…just check it out when you get home okay?” You asked, voice fluttering with desperation like you needed him to find it. 

“Promise.”

You took a deep breath in, smiling wistfully and feeling your chest tighten having to say goodbye. “See ya, Steve.”

“I’ll see you, cupcake.” He assured you, tapping the hood of your car and shutting your door gently.

It’s been hours since this morning. The day slowly dwindled into night by the time Steve parked his car in the driveway and unlocked the front door. He was only able to pop in for a few minutes before he brought the kids to the arcade, throwing the clean laundry into the dryer and saving your overalls for when he got home. Slipping his shoes off, he made a beeline to the laundry room, tossing the denim material into the machine before emptying the dryer and taking the basket with him.

“Fuck,” He spat, stubbing his toe near his desk in the darkness before clicking on the lamp for a little bit of light.

He dropped the basket onto the floor, making plans to fold and put them all away before he went to bed. But eyes caught the bright yellow paper tucked under his home phone, crimped into fourths with his name written in a heart on it.

It was you who left it and he knew it. His hand springing forward and nearly toppling the phone off the desk all together as he seized it and swiftly opened it up without ripping.

A sketch of you and him in bed. You’re lying awake, facing towards him with your hands resting on his arm that’s sprawled over your stomach. His face is partly hidden in your neck, yet you’ve detailed everything like the bridge of his nose and the curve of his jaw. Even the freckles that litter his skin are dotted in the blank ink. Glimmers of sunlight created with the gray graphite along with the creases of the bed sheets covering the bottom half of your bodies.

Even for a sketch, he knows this is unreal, the talent you have, insane for drawing this up in the matter of his fifteen minute shower. He should have been looking at himself, appreciating how much thought you put in to making sure it looked exactly like him, yet he’s looking at you.

How you’ve drawn your face with somehow all the emotions that he can feel through this piece of paper. That while he was asleep dreaming of you, you were awake watching him. It’s intimate, like you’ve let him know what you’ve both been feeling all this time and finally confessed.

In the prettiest and neatest handwriting he’d ever seen, you had left a message in the blank corner.

‘You look pretty when you’re sleeping, Stevie. Not gonna forget like an idiot this time… xxx-xxx-xxxx.’

Steve had never picked up the phone and dialed so speedily that he had to hang up and redial, totally messing up and pressing the wrong numbers the first time.

It’s been hours since you departed Hawkins. The drive back to Roane was uneventful but still smooth, hitting no traffic and even crunching enough time to stop by the diner to say hello to Dorothea and catch her up on life.

You had spent the rest of the day fueled with energy and anticipation. The second you walked into your apartment you felt a spark of motivation. Something calling you back to the piece you had abandoned only 24 hours ago. Now you had a clear mind and no thoughts of feeling like the sketch looked like garbage — even if it was a flicker of false inspiration, you’d take it.

Half of the sketch had already been painted by the late afternoon. Different shades of browns you had mixed together for the golden crust of the pie as well as the lattice design you had freehanded. Only parts of the cherry filling had been painted with a red too red for your liking, but you’d go back in tomorrow to refine it instead of beating yourself up then and forgetting about the progress you had made.

You were trying to be nicer to yourself.

Little progress still meant progress, and that was the one thing that mattered. That finally something in your system was flowing the way you wanted it to, and part of you felt like it was Steve. Possibly his reminder echoing in the back of your head that the act of trying was literally you trying, and that in itself was good enough.

You were good enough and the progress you made was good enough.

Breathe. Take it in. Breathe out. Take it in.

The act of you literally doing breathing exercises in front of your painting could’ve been seen as narcissistic. Maybe it was? But for you, it meant something a lot different. It was you patting yourself on the back for what you did and making mental notes of what you could’ve improved on without openly criticizing yourself so harshly.

You were so good to other people; you had to find it in yourself to be good to you. To treat you the way, you treated others — how you complimented everyone for doing their best and how you should’ve been doing the same all this time.

It was never too late to break down that old system….to grow and be better.

You had walked away from the canvas minutes ago, busy in the kitchen grabbing a little snack and figuring out what you were going to have for dinner or even if you had any energy left to make some. A hot bag of popcorn came out of the microwave and you popped open a soda, going to sit at the table for a little downtime before—

RING! RING! RING!

“Eeeek!” Squealing you nearly tripped over the coffee table, rushing towards the phone juggling your snacks as you struggled to figure out what to do first — put everything down or answer the phone. 

“Hello!” You answered nearly out of breath yet cheerfully, gasping quietly as you caught your can of Coke before it tipped over and made a mess. 

“Hey!” Steve’s voice rang through the other line, and he sounded just as delighted. 

“Steve! Hey….” you paused, catching your breath, “y-you found my sketch?”

“It’s my newest prized possession.”

“I missed you… I-I mean, I missed hearing your voice. We literally just saw each other this morning.” 

Somehow it felt easier to talk to Steve in person rather than on the phone–even if it meant he could physically see you blushing and smiling like a maniac. Yet he found it cute, how you tried to cover your tracks as if he didn’t feel the same way and could imagine what you looked like right then.

“I missed you too — you’re voice and you.” He said, making you smile wider.

“What are you up to?” You asked, getting comfortable on the floor.

“Laying in bed, still looking at the drawing while talking to you.”

“Are you sleepy?” You wondered, realizing the hour and the day he must have had.

“No! Sorry… I just didn’t want you to think I’m tired. I mean I am tired, but I’m not tired enough to not want to talk to you.” He said convincingly, though his stumbling over words made you second guess it.

“You can always sleep if you want to…we could talk tomorr—”

He cut you off with an abrupt disapproving hum. “Don’t even think about it!”

You giggled, shoulders rising and falling comfortably before you started up. “You’ll never guess what I did today!”

“Steal the cronut recipe?” He guessed without skipping a beat.

“Oh my god, no!”

“Fineee tell me.”

“I painted!” You exclaimed, voice rising higher, “like actually. really. painted. something with my own hands and I didn’t look at it and think “wow this looks like shit,” I did it!”

You sounded proud of yourself, and he hoped you were feeling that just as much on the inside. Only a week ago, you were tearing yourself apart in the diner where you sat across from him, and he could do nothing but speak encouraging and honest words to you, hoping you’d see it through the way he did.

If he was there, he’d give you the biggest hug in the world then take you out to the diner. This time he’d actually grab the bill before you could and bring more quarters so you could play an unlimited amount of love songs and dance with him until your bellies were full and your legs were tired.

You wished he was here.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s great! What’d you paint?”

You swallowed, peering up at the canvas that was drying. “It’s uhh… it’s a surprise!”

“Surprise?” He said, literally taken by surprise.

“Yeah! So I can’t tell you.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing it… maybe soon?”

“Fingers crossed.”

That was enough for him… a promise that one day, whenever it may be, he would get the chance to see it with his very own eyes instead of just hearing about it. He already knew he’d be complimenting it and you for days on end, you’d probably get sick of it, but he wouldn’t.

“You’ll never guess what happened today.” Steve began shuffling a bit on his bed to get comfortable.

You gasped, reaching for your popcorn and tossing some in your mouth. “Did Dustin beat Max’s score?”

“Worse.” He said behind a strained laugh.

“Oh god.”

“Mike did!”

You slapped your hand down on the coffee table, making him chortle on the other line, knowing you’d react like this. “Oh, my gosh! Tell. Me. Everything!”

“It’s a long one.” He warned you, hoping you had the time to give him.

You scoffed jokingly, grabbing your snacks and leaning back on the couch cushions. “I’ve got all night, Harrington.”

Your midnights. Your mornings. Your afternoons. He hoped he could have them all... he wasn't sure if it was too soon for all of that, if the idea of having them already thought up in his mind was cool or not.

But he'd just have to hope that everything... all of this, you and him.

It was delicate, but it didn't always have to be.

“Lucky me.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: how are we all feeling after that? i know i am kicking my feet wishing i had a steve to treat me so soft and nicely! ugh, guys this is probably my most favorite chapter i've written so far -- i really wanted this chapter to focus on domesticity and the softness between glitch reader and steve!!! my heart and soul is always alway so thankful for the wonderful effie aka @translatemunson who is always giving me feedback and helping me proof-read...i literally could not do this without her so thank you so much bby, i love you!!! 🥹💘 i really hope you all love this chapter as much as i do...isn't it just so delicate?!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3 @claireiscrying @we-out-here-simping @dreamerjj

#munsonsreputation #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!baker #steve harrington x fem!artist #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #taylor swift x stranger things #steve harrington x taylor swift #steve stranger things #stranger things steve #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington drabble

[superhell]

ok so it’s fully established that house has an incredibly hard time verbalizing his emotions (specifically the positive ones) due to a fear of rejection and a deep deep aversion to displaying vulnerability

which makes the incredibly few times he’s admitted to someone that he cares about them, well, incredible. to list every single time that i can remember off the top of my head here: 

instance one: he tells stacy he loves her directly before he goes into a coma.  the statement itself is undeniably romantic in nature. 

instance two: he tells cuddy he loves her after they hook up and she gives him a whole long speech on how she doesn’t want him to change. this is the culmination of years of dancing around each other. the statement is undeniably romantic in nature. 

instance three: he tells wilson their friendship means more to house than any patient

instance four: he tells wilson he likes him

instance five: i mean i can keep going. there’s wilsons transplant surgery there’s everything with amber theres just so much. anyway

all of which leads me to the conclusion that of the three people house has ever sincerely expressed affection for two of those are people he’s canonically in love with which means that the third one must also be someone he’s [gunshots]

#like i very much understand that telling someone you love them and telling someone you like them are two different sentences but in this #case the deviation is EXCEEDINGLY easy to explain the first two are people who have firstly already told him they love him #which greatly reduces risk of rejection and secondly in both those instances the people he's saying it to are already committed so #really what is he risking. whereas in wilson's case he displays his affections through spending time with the man when they're on good terms #and it is when he thinks he's losing wilson that he starts verbally presenting his heart on a platter. furthermore he cannot say that he #loves wilson because wilson has not firstly said the same to him. telling wilson he likes him is far lower risk than telling a man #currently insisting you're not friends that you love him. that's simply not a risk he's willing to take #anyway sorry for being crazy and writing a novel in the tags carry on #house #wilson #hilson #lisa cuddy #huddy #stacy warner #house md #hatecrimes md #also something about how wilson is the only one he verbalizes affection for throughout the show #oh fuck wait just remembered that one time he told wilson he loved him when wilson upped his pain meds in the hospital #which still mcfucking fits. anwyay

[cyberwitchhhhhhhhh]

Healing your inner child💫

Pick a pile reading

Pile #1

Cards:Ace of wands,Ten of cups,Two of cups ,Four of wands,Knight of cups,Justice

Okay pile one ! Im seeing that healing your inner child looks like just being a child again playing around living life out to the fullest spending time with people simply being around other people here I’m seeing that you could of had to grow up fast or you may had to get a job early to support your family here you also may need to have a new out look on being free and being stuck like I’m seeing that your parents or a relative maybe wanted you to take on an extra hobby or an extra job or wanted you to do something you didn’t want to do which had you like well it’s something but you weren’t living your life how you truly wanted it to be and its either your going to grasp on to all your challenges and deal with it and be stuck or look bad to what could be your current life you have to look deeper than what your in you have to leave to gain peace here wander into the unknown its okay to wander here but as long as your happy doing it and using your brain and mind while making yourself happy I’m also seeing that you need to be loved and cared for you never really got that before because you were always trying to please people and give them your all and best but its time for things to be fair and balanced here you love yourself and do for people without having to be walked all over .💫

Pile#2

Cards:Seven of wands,The hanged man,Six of cups,Six of pentacles,King of wands,Death

Okay pile two ! Im seeing that healing your inner child looks like standing up for yourself and standing up for what you believe in I’m seeing you have this defensive side about you as a child I’m seeing you got into fights a lot at school or you argued with everyone but this is just a way of getting people to understand because I’m feeling like you were never understood as a child you were always in a chokehold when it came to your thoughts and your mind I’m seeing your the type of person to sit in your thoughts until your provoked to do so you sacrifice a face of your life so people can really see who you are like your probably like I’m quite but i can really show you something so sacrificing your image in a way I’m seeing that you may get irritated easily when it comes to giving and giving but no receiving shit back in return either its with sharing your emotions and someone turning on you or you giving somebody money and them not paying you back but its okay to say no its not a bad thing to just say no i don’t want to or no i don’t have it i can also see that your a very strong but hot tempered person you get mad easily and shut down because I’m getting that thats how you deal with most things your going through I’m also seeing you could be going through depression over a ending but this is a blessing in disguise for you .💫

Pile#3

Cards:Nine of wands,Ace of pentacles,Two of swords,The Sun,Five of pentacles,The Empress

Okay pile three ! Im seeing that healing your inner child looks like not always looking at everything as a bad thing look on the bright side of things thinking positive everything is not a life lesson or a life learned everything is not about being strong or about being the last one standing its about taking steps through life as a child I’m seeing you were very hard on yourself when it came to grades or your looks or what you ate my love its life do what the hell you want I’m also seeing you were bribed with money or your parents loved you with money not actually love but you cant lean on everyone for a new chance a new job money its time to fetch on your own but I’m also seeing for you as a child you were blinded to a lot of thing either your parents fought over thing or it was cheating going on in your household I’m seeing that it was basically trying to protect you but it turned you out to be very protective but only if you turned around to see theres people who love you there happiness once you turn around and realize what you have its no more being left without answers no more being left alone but stepping into your positive self your divine feminine.💫

#tarotcommunity #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot pac #tarot reading #divination #psychic #intuition #tarottribe #astrology #inner child

[danvillecheese]

why do u think act ur age is fucked

[cracks knuckles] alright. essay time. you asked for it.

I’ve done a similar response to this before here and mentioned something else about it here but I’ll go over it again since those posts are both from a while ago. also bear in mind I haven’t seen aya recently bc I don’t like it. okay let’s get into it

[also im gonna preface this saying maybe i sound very pessimistic but im ranting and its just gonna sound like im complaining because i am. i mean no real malice by the way. im simply a person with a blog.]

first off. they don’t use the show don’t tell as well as they could. in the what might have been montage, sure, they showed potential scenarios and how phineas felt (very briefly) when isa stopped visiting his backyard but it just feels so rushed. I get that they only had like 11 minutes to show it but idk there has to be another way to write it. or just not have it at all idk its just from a writing point of view the whole episode feels rushed and out of place from everything else continuity-wise. why not use little easter eggs planted in the show beforehand? operation crumbcake? pharmacists? meapless in seattle? god theres so many episodes with evidence that phineas liked her back even if he didnt know. just. continuity!!!!

second. why did their friends not try something sooner. it’s not like they didn’t know. like phineas seems to be okay with saying “i wish! i am so in the friend zone there” in front of his friends (that quote alone makes me lose my shit but that’s a whole other point) so clearly they knew about phineas. and isabella also wasn’t quiet about it (source: pnf s1-4). they had like four years of high school to do something and they planned it the day isa left for college? nah its just the least realistic thing ever for me. also them being 18 is like yeah okay maybe the slow burn was worth it and theyre way more grown up (i love a good slowburn) but ohhhhhh my god SURELY their friends were getting sick of them dancing around each other. just me?

third. and I’m sorry to ash simpson but oh my god I hate the character designs like They Would Not Fucking Look Like That. it almost feels like it completely disregards their arcs during the original summer. like yeah child chub disappears over ur teen years but sometimes it stays a little longer! make phineas less twiggy!! make isa look more like her mother! (am i about to redesign them again? whoops)

four. and i know this is no fault of dan and swampy but the show was about to end anyways and yet the entire friend group was paired off into hetero ships?? get fucking real. none of those kids are straight. realistically, i know it was a different time and gay marriage wasnt even legal in the us yet so it wasnt all that common to have queer romance on screen let alone on disney channel but like i said, the show was about to end. what were the disney channel execs gonna do? cancel it? lmao

five. "I am so in the friend zone there." "we are guys. we do not talk about our feelings." WHAT!!! i cant believe this shit is real. these lines of dialogue are canon. what the hell. what kind of message does that even send to younger, impressionable viewers? if ur a 10 year old boy watching that (ok fine maybe that isnt gonna stick with you forever but listen) and you go 'oh its okay to just bottle everything up and not tell my friends about my feelings about anything ever' that is insane! thats not how things should go!! like i get the whole "im so in the friend zone" and yes, this also has to do with the era but like if they wanted to be a more progressive cartoon that kids look up to and enjoy maybe they just. shouldn't have put that whole conversation in.

i barely have any problems with the b plot. in fact id watch the episode just for the kazoo solo. because that plot lines up with the continuity. i can totally see heinz having bowling night with perry and carl and monogram every week! i can totally see perry and monogram retired! and carl running owca and getting payed for it! that all checks out! that one makes sense and works with the canon! if they got that plot so right how did they get the a plot so wrong?

i can answer this question: fanservice. its an awful word, i know. act your age is a fanservicey episode which is why i think it crashed and burned. mml season 2 is rooted in the same issue: doof is very present and takes away from the original plot of the show. like, the one he wasnt even in until the last episode of s1. slightly getting off topic but it is the crux of the issue. fanservice doesnt make for good storytelling. even if it brings in the big bucks. at its core, telling the story the way it should be told is the best one. even if it pisses people off. a good portion of the viewers will still appreciate whatever ending the creators come up with. and no, im not saying phinbella shouldn't have become canon, in fact i really like the ship and all their dynamics, i just think they went about it the wrong way.

as someone who's written and published fic about them getting together in different universes (granted, they were from when i was younger so its mildly terrible. take them with a grain of salt) there are a lot of other ways to tell that story canonically. honestly, i think the best way of doing it was to keep it ambiguous. dont tell that story. let the viewers pick their own ending for phineas and isabella. maybe they dont get together after all. who knows!

thanks for the ask! hope you had fun getting lectured <3

#phineas and ferb #phinbella #act your age #ask #this was fun you guys should ask me more stuff like this #dwampyverse analysis

[doomed-era]

also. i was going to ask this before but i didnt know how to word it: any zelda tropes you like/dislike? stuff like fairies being guides for link or the concept of sages/Legendary Sword or how link and zelda are always depicted or reoccurring characters like impa or beedle or epona. though theres probably not. a lot of tropes considering most games are vastly different from each other. uhh yeah if youve got nothing . things that were done from a zelda game that you liked?

OOH. tbh I had to think about this a bit (my gripes are usually with the fandom and how they depict the tropes as a Strict Narrative Rule) but! I do have some

UH ONES I HATE. this is gonna be long no matter what so it's going under a cut

Number one has got to be making link into a super special boy for basically no reason!!! being from a special type of knights is. so irrelevant to everything else about alttp link that I think a lot of people legitimately forget this. it barely ever comes up and it's honestly not that important to the story except as an excuse for why link's the only one that can grab the pendants and pull the master sword, which. why not just have him be the one to do this because he's just really determined? Ocarina of Time...tried this, sort of? almost completely irrelevant AGAIN. in twilight princess and wind waker they are just some guy basically and this is the best direction they could have gone with his character. except they ruined it in botw and ss and I will neverrrr forgive them for this. botw link beats up grown men at five years old he's like superbaby instant knight and I HATE it. it's just stupid. I don't even care that it applies pressure to him as a character and seems to affect him; they could have just made it an in-universe lie and it would have had the exact same effect so genuinely screw that trope

number two is calling random soldiers knights stop fucking doing this. i dont care that its fictional fantasyland it annoys me

number three! the 3D games' great fairies! I hate almost all of them the oot/mm great fairies are freaks, botw ones are so pretty but they're creepy as hell, and twilight princess is just a naked lady and it's stupid I hate her. wind waker minish cap and alttp fairies are gongeous though

number four. everyone thinking link is cool and or hot. I hate this in universe and in the fandom. I don't care that the devs wanted to make him """"cool"""" he's 100% always a LOSER!!!!

number five I hate the hijacked by ganon trope in zelda games so much. STOP ffs please let ganon/ganondorf take the spotlight we all love him. or let another villain be the main baddie

ok now for ones I like :)

nunberone...SENTIENT MONSTERS SENTIENT MONSTERS BABEY SENTIENT MOSNTERS ILVOE SRENTIERHSDJKFHSFHAAAAA

GRRAAA ITS A SECRET TO EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!!! MOE THE MOBLIN!!! KING BULBLIN SAYING HE FOLLOWS THE STRONGEST SIDE!!! THE ENTIRE DARK WORLD ITS SO

two. npc companions...rips off my shirt to reveal another shirt that says I LOVE MIDNA AND TATL AND EZLO AND KING OF RED LIONS AND GHOSTIE ZELDA AND MEDLI AND MAKAR AND TETRA AND SIDON AND YUNOBO AND

number three...I love random gods and spirits that are just hanging out because. keaton malanya zephos satori light spirits what have you. theyre great I need more of that.

number four incredibly weird npcs. need i say more

number five soldiers being extremely incompetent and dumb or getting possessed. soldiers as enemies or easily corruptible people

number six that one character that doesn't like link. you know what i mean (revali. groose. mido. iirc ralph? maybe? I haven't played much of the oracle games)

number seven hyrule with a dark and bloody past. and not only that but a fairly simple presentation of it that's clearly hiding a more complex underbelly. its just neat to see simple, clear-cut writing tell you so much with so little. it's a big reason I love alttp; it's simple but there's so much grief in it

number eight uh. clawshot/hookshot :] good stuff

#asks #hehe!! #glider rambles

[eliecasa]

warnings: reader has a “bf” back home so it’s basically cheating. i can say this is kinda… bad (theres a passage repeat that i cant seem to delete]: )

summary: after brutally losing an entire team on a mission, reader can’t help but to wallow in self pity. a worried soap checks on his first love.

wrdcnt: 2.7K

Labored breaths escape the rawness of your nostrils as you swipe and swipe at the dried blood around your nails underneath the strong stream of water shooting out of the shower head. A strong pounding in your head worsens the blurry vision that dares to send more tears down your stained cheeks. The red that dried into your skin is not yours, it’s the blood of your team that was ambushed during a moment of victory.

‎‏‏‎ One moment, everything was okay and the five of you were happy about the success of taking down a terrorist group of extremist but, the next moment, everything blew up in your faces. The panic since then hasn’t left your body nor did the image of your injured teammates taking their last breaths.

‎‏‏‎ One moment, everything was okay and the five of you were happy about the success of taking down a terrorist group of extremist but, the next moment, everything blew up in your faces. The panic since then hasn’t left your body nor did the image of your injured teammates taking their last breaths.

‎‏‏The moment you made it back to the barracks, Soap was already at your side and holding you after hearing of the unfortunate turn of events. Coddling your teammates was a silent forbidden thing around the base but he was always beyond the rules when it came to you. Sure, he angered Shepherd a lot but how could he ever let you suffer alone? You didn’t cry or hold him back but instead sat there and gazed at the hard floor at your feet. Though the barracks were all split into tiny two person rooms with bunk beds, that rule-abiding part of you couldn’t cry in front of him. To cry meant that you weren’t prepared and to be unprepared is to be unfit for your job. Perhaps pride had a good grip on you until you got in the shower.

‎‏

Your roommate briefly stops by the room to fetch their jacket and unexpectedly was met with the sight of Sergeant Mactavish sitting on the edge of your bed and tentatively watching the bathroom door. They briefly exchange a small glance but Soap doesn’t look away from the bathroom door, even ignoring the rookie that bids him a quiet goodbye. Strong worry was clawing and gnawing at the back of his head. Soap has known you for eight years now and has been loving you for seven of them. The two of you had four long, memorable, and joyous years of loving each other until a disagreement from a mission that took place a year ago.

It was the day task force 141 needed both your stealth team and shadow company on stand by all in effort to calmly obtain el sin nombre. He remembers the way you exploded on him in front of everyone as if it just happened yesterday. You cursed and argued about who should be the person to offer intel just for him to keep his determination in stone. It didn’t help that Alejandro kept warning him that he would most likely be killed for even stepping on the property in the open. That was also the day that everyone realized that the two of you were surely more than comrades.

“So what, you just want to go in there and act like a fucking hero?” you fume, pushing him a little bit just for Phillip to settle a hand on your shoulder. Soap bristles for a moment but he fires back with a calmer tone in his voice that fails to relax you in even the slightest. “It’s better than you and somebody has to get it done.”

Tension suffocates the group for a moment until you finally scoff and back away from him with fury burning behind your eyes. It was the first time that you had to work with him on a mission like that and you could only wonder how often he was offering to die when you weren’t around to help him to succeed. Your heart lunges and tears begin to pend at the edges of your lids but you refuse to cry in front of your team. Your boyfriend of 4 years can only watch as you wave a hand of dismissal and turn on your heel to head back into the stake out building. “If you wanna go ahead and die, be my guest.”

‎‏‏‎

And of course, that’s where things ended between you. His feelings were hurt and your words were left with him like a knife jabbed into his chest. Soap always knew that mixing love and work would fuck him up but the feelings he had for you were far too important to let ‘what if’s’ decide what could be. You guys gave a chance at love and it ended with a pool of unsaid words mixed with regrets.

The memory causes him to frown, lost in thought for a moment before he heard a sob from the bathroom. “Y/N?” he stood up and knocked on the bathroom door with furrowed brows. The tiny bathroom spares him of nothing that you’re doing in there. He can easily hear the way you sniff and huff, trying to control your breathing before hyperventilation gets to take its toll on you. You don’t say anything and continue crying to your heart's content, leaving Soap to worrily step away to close and lock the door to your small room. While he’s on the way back, your voice comes frail and hoarse, stopping him on the spot.

“John?”

He instantly answers and settles his head on the bathroom door so that he wouldn’t miss a word that you said. “Yes?”

“Please, I need you.”

He doesn't waste even a second to let himself into the bathroom and he’s greeted with the sight of you sticking your head out of the white curtain. Your eyes are swollen and red with irritation, adding on to the miserable look that you honed but that didn't matter to him. Tears cascade down your jaw as Soap’s calloused hands come to palm your wet cheeks. The natural, woodsy scent of him makes your chest flutter with intense warmth as he lifts your face to his to press a hearty kiss on your cheek, just like he used to. The kisses spread across your face and down to your neck as tears pool your eyes once again. He was like the natural detox that even the most desperate yearned for.

“Could you help me… none of it is coming off.”

His chest heavily rumbled with a hum as he finished the last of his kisses in the crook of your neck. The skin there burns pleasantly and his hands find yours. When he sees the dark redness that stains your skin, he can see himself a little bit inside of you. Soap remembers what it was like for him to lose himself when he was still a little new to the force. Days of wondering what he could've done to avoid the misfortune of his comrades lasted days and weeks or maybe even months until he was forced to get back to work. You could say he never really got the chance to truly wallow in his pity but at least he had you behind him during it all, just as you have him.

Your wet hand settled on the hem of his black shirt, soaking the material on contact and he instantly reached to pull it over his head. The silver of his dog tags land against his now nude chest and you idly wait for him to take his pants down. It’s been a long time since you’ve been so close to him but it all comes too familiar. He isn’t shy and you weren’t afraid to show your vulnerability to him. If there was anyone in the world that you would give your life into their hands, it would always be John, no doubt. The security of him was one of the many reasons you initially fell in love with him. It wasn’t because he was a big strong man that worked next to you through hell and highwater but mostly because of the way he always made you feel so sure of everything.

Once he’s stripped, you leisurely move back and allow him to take the heated water that he tilts his head back into before moving to stand behind you, just like he used to. You stand with your arms tightly wrapped around you and his hands come into view. The way his hands look confused for a second almost cracks a smile out of you. “Behind you, babe.”

“Oh.. sorry.” he takes a moment to look for the red towel that you had. A small sigh of relief escapes his mouth. At least you wouldn’t have to see the blood staining the towel, stuff like that made him relieve his troubles. You can feel his wet body press against yours as he fully wraps his arms around you, hugging you from behind. Maybe you’re a bad person for leaning back into him and bathing in his warmth when you had a man back home but who cares? He could be out there doing who knows what without you ever finding out. It’s not like you’d care much anyway. Every man to come or go should know that you’d never devote your heart to them as you did for John Mactavish.

His beard tickles your face as he grabs your hands after lathering the towel with soap. The way he began to gently scrub at the creases of your nails had caused your vision to blur once again. You can't help but silently wonder how long you will be the emotional wreck on base as your nose begins to run. “Staying with me tonight?” he says, lingering for a moment before running your hand underneath the water. Somehow, he was cleaning your body better than you could and managed to get your thumb clean. A kiss is pressed to your temple as he starts again, his biceps flex with every motion and the feeling is like home to you. Tears cascade down your cheeks as you nod and twist, leaning into him a little more. Sure, your room was no different from his but at least he had a rather less nosy roommate than you. The last thing you need is a rookie questioning why you’re crying and letting your Sergeant coddle you.

‎‏‏‎

The shower lasts 35 minutes and consists of little to no words being exchanged. The silence between you felt like the type that made people dwell on things that went wrong. It’s specific but the way John would glance at you every now and then told you anything that you needed to know. He looked at you as if he wanted to say something and was merely waiting for the right time to say it; however, he didn't say a word except for small questions to make sure you were okay on the way to his room.

He gently guided you in and shut the door afterward. Secret relief floods over you as you walk over to Soap’s bed, glad that even his bunk mate was missing. A part of you really assumed that Ghost was just out to give the two of you some space but, you bite your tongue and instead settled for sitting onto the small twin sized bed. “... It’s lonely in here” you survey the not so lively room, trying to make for small talk that John immediately dismissed as he sat down next to you. “It wasn’t your fault.”

The bluntness makes you roll your eyes but the swelling on your face doesn’t make it look as sassy as you wanted. Your faux annoyance doesn’t deter him and he even moves in on you, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “You know you couldn’t have done anything different, do you?” but your nose unwillingly twists at the sound of that. Your mentality was contradicting that the entire time and now that someone who knew you was calling it out, you feel put on the spot. “You didn’t know, and they didn’t know. It was an accident and you were caught off guard.”

You jump back, exclaiming as if John just accused you of taking everything he is worth. “How do you know? If I was paying attention and not celebrating, they’d still be alive!”

“And if they weren’t celebrating, maybe they’d be alive, y/n.”

He watches the fury in your eyes expand as you recoil and prepare to rebuttal, but that doesn’t mean he lets it explode. Those rough hands of his once again cup your face and he speaks, rushed but clearly. “I know, you’re angry.”

“But you don’t know how I feel, Soap, you just don’t.”

“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t tell me and it doesn’t mean you get to self-destruct.”

You angrily tuck your lips and rip from his grasp. “Who’s going to take the blame then?”

“The same fuckers that killed them will.”

You want to believe them but that evil voice in the back of your mind was getting the best of you. It kept telling you that if you all were just still on guard, none of this would have happened. Your heart breaks and rips at the thought of how their families will act when they receive the dog tags of their children that haven’t even gotten their chance to fall in love or to even have a family of their own. It hurts to imagine and it hurts to even put yourself in that position. The thought of receiving dog tags of the man you love made your heart palpate in fear. Anxiety is a river, a tide that drags and drowns you until you find foundation.

‎‏‏‎

The mattress sinks back as John leaned on his palms, silently watching as you began to cry into your hands once again. “I’m never going to forgive myself, John. I just can’t.” His heart breaks to hear you say that. Though he wants to tell you that you’re speaking nothing but stupid worry, his heart won’t let him. You weren’t just one of his comrades but also someone he loved more than he loved himself. Everything about you mattered to him more than his own health so he will always be there for you, no matter how much you appear to be bothered by him.

“... You can start by recovering.” he wraps a single arm around you and pulls your slouched form into him. “Once you’re better, we go out and repay them.”

You nod and rise from the miserable slouch that you curled yourself into. Before you can even think about wiping your own tears, John wipes them first. “It’s not going to bring them back,” he kisses your pouty lips. “But I don’t want to lose you to any of this military shit. I love you too much.”

For a moment, your eyes meet his. The tug that you feel is powerful and it even causes you to lean into him impossibly further. Those blue eyes of his are like a magnet made only for the atoms that made your body into one. There’s nobody else in this world that you craved more than him. None of those ex boyfriends and damn sure not the one at home.

A small smile spreads across your flushed face.

Just the thought of falling in love with someone else is comedy itself. There isn’t a day where John doesn’t miss a day where he doesn’t sit and wonder what you could be doing or what you could be thinking of. Your line of profession was a divider that seemed to always be stomped on no matter the effort of your bosses and leaders trying to keep it alive and present. Together, things were easier. Sure, you both had to worry about if their lover was coming back sometimes but that strong sense of strength overpowered that. No matter the trouble, your hearts would always tell you to come back alive, not wanting to break the heart of the other. It’s a silent agreement that both of you can understand just by looking into each other's eyes.

Like an infatuated idiot, your voice came horse and raw.

“I love you too.”

He notices the way your hand was shyly inching towards him, so he sits up and takes it in his, kisses it before he kisses you again. “I’ve got your back.”

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