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#crush fluff
dayziiducks · 5 months
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'This ones for you'
m!crush x f!reader
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when your only motivation to go to school on Monday is to see your crush's basketball game
warnings : cursing
i sighed as i walked to the washroom with my best friend, (bf/n), on a Monday morning as per usual. Unfortunately for me our school and most school things here are like 5 hours earlier than all schools so.. yippee more sleep deprivation. The only two things that keep me motivated to go to school are my friends, and my crush, (c/n).
Luckily for me we had physical education with his class today so actually had a reason to look forward to all that running. "man i wish that we could just have Mondays off it'd be so much easier.." i said to her groggily as we entered the washroom to change into our PE attire. "hmm if we did the you'd just be complaining about how you can't see (c/n) all day." "i guess that's true.. but i don't talk about him that much..ever since his dumbass went and joined basketball the girls in our cohort flock like crazy at even the slightest mention of his name..i know hot girls don't gatekeep but still." "Don't worry too much about it i'm sure you two will get together at some point it's just a matter of time." she replied playfully in attempts to reassure me. (c/n) and I get along pretty well but we never really established what we were so i'm always wondering what context he means his words in. Every time he says something that could be romantic my brain just says : he does that with all his friends, you're not special. But I digress.
We walked down to the indoor basketball court and gathered with our other classmates. And (c/n). Me being the coward that i am i avoided all eye contact knowing damn well that he'll just go ' What're you staring at.' like i'm staring at you staring at me. i didn't want him to get all cocky that i was staring at him though so i kept my glance on the floor. We then dispersed as our classmates hogged the basketballs and started playing 3 on 3. (bf/n) and I sat down on the stairs and watched as (c/n) laughed and played with the other guys. God he was so pretty. I went on my phone and started scrolling since i was so bored. i guess nothing was gonna happen today after all.
Then, a familiar voice caught my attention. "YO (y/n) ! THIS ONES FOR YOU !" (c/n) yelled as he shot the basketball into the hoop and grinned. his friends made remarks as they pat him on the back. my jaw dropped. my brain was thinking : (c/n), i love you, but OH MY FUCK ARE YOU STUPID THATS SO EMBARRASSING IM GONNA GET BULLIED AND SHOVED INTO LOCKERS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. But in real life i just yelled back "Thanks" and smiled back at him. i could practically hear all the whispers from the people around me as (bf/n) elbowed me and said "ooh looks like that 'matter of time' is gonna happen soon"
As the bell rang and i started packing up to go to geography when (c/n) came up to me and said "yo (y/n) can you help me put bandaids on my fingers ? i got a few cuts from the game." "sure, oh yeah you must be thirsty..here take my water bottle. i didn't open it yet so its fine." i replied as i walked with him to the first aid station. He drank from my water bottle as i held his hands and tended to his cuts. Even his hands were pretty..I couldn't help but feel his gaze on me the whole time which made me feel giddy inside. "Here, all done." i said as i smiled at him. "Thanks (y/n)...if you don't mind maybe you can come with me to the new library that opened up near school ? i remember you telling me how you hated (subj/n) so i thought i could help you out with it." He offered as he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "of course i really need help in it. And i recall you needing serious help in history. Maybe we can..help eachother?" i asked playfully "sure. we can meet up every Monday if thats okay?" he smiled at me. "fine by me" i said. "alright ! its a date." he said before running off to his next class leaving me to process what i just heard. i freaked out in my head before running off to my geography class to go tell (bf/n). Maybe i am special to him after all.
And maybe..just maybe..I’d start looking forward to Mondays too.
hii i hope you liked that i'll probably post the library date thing the day after tomorrow if you want it :) anyway please feel free to send requests since i'm having writers block rn so.
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hairmetal666 · 3 months
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They start kissing on stage as a joke.
The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."
Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."
"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.
"I don't know, other bands do it!"
Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.
Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.
They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.
Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.
The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.
He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.
But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.
They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.
The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.
He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.
They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.
They don't talk about it.
Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.
A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.
Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.
"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.
He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"
His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.
"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"
"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"
Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."
Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.
"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."
And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--
"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.
Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."
He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."
Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"
"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.
"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."
Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."
Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.
It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.
Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."
Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"
"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.
"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."
Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."
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thepromptswhisperer · 3 months
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"I think they like you." Prompts
“I’m sorry. I know you liked them (too).”
“You should talk to them.” “No. I couldn’t. What would I even say?”
“Clearly they have good taste.”
“Shut up.”
“Please, please, tell me you’re not trying to play matchmaker again. (As much as I love you, you suck at it.)”
“Good. Otherwise, that relationship of ours would be a mistake.”
“Can we not? (I just want to spend the evening with you. No distractions.)”
“No, they don’t.”
“How— How do you figure that?”
“What gave it away? The compliments? The touching? The kiss?”
A freezes. They had hoped nobody would figure out – not yet anyway – that they are in a secret relationship with B. Look natural. Act natural, they tell themselves.
Sighs. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
“And you? Do you like me?”
"Not you too." "What?"
“What, you gathered that from a simple ‘Hi’?”
“Maybe.” “You’re not interested?” “They just seem like they are looking for a relationship, and I’m not… I’m not ready for that. Not yet.”
“You think? How can you tell?”
“Stop pulling my leg.”
“You don’t think so?” “… Why would they/someone like them be interested in me of all people? I’m just—”
“This your way of telling me to leave you so you can ‘go on the hunt’ yourself?”
“Too bad I’m interested in someone else.” “Oh?”
“Message received.” “What? What message?”
A asks B if they are interested in person C to see if maybe they themselves (still) have a chance with B/C.
“Are you dumb or are you just pretending to be?” “What?” “You really don’t know?”
“So? I already have everything I need right here.”
Snorts. “What? We’re friends. Just friends.” (“Do they know that?”/”Hm. Sure.”)
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novelbear · 1 year
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"if only you knew" - some cute and shy crush scenarios
prompt list by @novelbear
awkwardly laughing to try not to malfunction when they're given a compliment
smiling real hard when texting them
^ then realizing what they're doing and smiling even more because they just love this feeling
knowing the little things about them
praying that they don't notice their heart racing as they give them a hug
when they get a little too close and it's over
gazing at them from afar because they're just so...
"i think about you a lot." "aw, really?" [panicking] "no." "oh."
when they compliment something that they've been insecure about and it just breaks them
"you get flustered really easily...cute." "haha...thanks...i think. was that a compliment? why are you laughing."
being asked to take photos of them and of course they accept, but they can't seem to focus properly
unconsciously showing displays of affection (ex. playing with their hair, rubbing their hand with their thumb) because it comes natural when with them
^ but when they get called out for it, they scramble to find an excuse (and maybe give an unnecessary apology)
"would you like to hang out?" "of course! i mean, yeah, it would be nice..."
"you've been kinda obvious." "....what."
realizing that their crush likes them back and it's been clear as day.
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sheikfangirl · 1 month
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Lazy morning in Hateno ♥♥ Zelink of the Wild bed snuggles are one of my very favorite subjects 😚 I just want them to be HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!! (I hope you like bed snuggles cuz I have a...."couple" of more.........)
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frickingnerd · 13 days
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deku crushing on a vigilante
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pairing: izuku midoriya / deku x gn!reader
tags: pro hero deku, deku is just a genuine good guy, fluff
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deku knew that vigilantes existed, but he had never met one like you before!
you were hiding your identity behind a mask and while he knew that using your quirk without a license was illegal, he couldn't ignore that you were doing good
besides, you actually ended up saving him! him, the number one hero, being saved by a vigilante!
after that first encounter, deku can't forget about you. sure, you were mysterious and beautiful, but the topic of vigilantes floats through his head as well
he knows you're doing good and he wants to help you with it, but in a more legal way!
the next time the two of you meet, he chases you down and has a talk with you, inviting you to join his agency!
as much as you seem to appreciate the offer, you end up declining. sure, working for the number one hero would be great! but who would help the people that get overlooked by pro heroes, if not you? they needed you!
deku admires your decision, but he's not giving up that easily. he wants to prove to you that pro heroes will help everyone, no matter how small the situation!
and so, it happens that you run into pro hero deku far more often during your own patrol. you watch as he helps lost children find home, settles arguments and helps pick up trash from the streets
you can't help but find this view amusing – the number one hero of japan, doing such small tasks that would usually fall onto sidekicks, if anyone does them at all!
but you admire him as well. after all, deku is truly trying to prove to you that he'll help anyone and that he won't just help people for publicity!
slowly, you begin to trust him more, as the two of you begin to spend more time together during patrol. and perhaps, you might even consider taking deku up on his offer to join his agency, should he ask you again…
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writersloveroe · 9 months
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Romantic things that make me wanna fall in love (that you should definitely use in your book)
♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎
•wrapping their hands around their partner’s waist
•kissing the back of their neck after putting their necklace on
•leaving lipstick stains on their collar/face/body
•holding their partner’s face as they press their foreheads together
•pushing them against a wall just to make them nervous
•feeling nervous as their partner sits on their lap
•wrapping an arm around their partner and proudly claiming them as their s/o
•laying together in a messy bed silently and enjoying each other’s presence
•the relief of not having to explain your feelings because your partner knows you better than they know their order at their favorite restaurant (…lmao)
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saturncodedstarlette · 11 months
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Gojo Satoru, holding a rock : Y/N-chan just gave me this to me and said “I feel like you deserve the moon but all I can give you is a rock”.
Getou : If you don’t marry Y/N-San, I will.
Shoko, nods : I second that.
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koishiro · 9 months
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# - “𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐃𝐎? 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘?”
☆彡 1 : 29pm
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : In which Megumi has a hidden crush on you and plans to keep it that way until a certain pink haired boy and 6’3 man-child take it upon themselves to help.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : megumi fushiguro x gn!reader
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : The fluffiest of fluff
masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist
megumi fushiguro is not new to the feeling of embarrassment.
In fact, he’s quite used to it considering he’s best friends with Itadori Yuji and Nobara Kugisaki, who apparently can’t go a single day without causing some sort of a scene. As well as being raised by a certain white haired, 6’3 man adorned with a black blindfold.
“Stop it! Why didn’t you order your own if you’re just gonna eat off my plate?!” A certain pink haired boy screamed, slapping away the greedy hands of the ginger.
Nobara quickly whips back her hands to her chest, cradling them with a look of offence for one, being slapped and two, being denied food, replied; “maybe because I wasn’t hungry then?!”
Yuji stared at Nobara with a blank face, “go order now then!”
Now it was Nobara’s turn to stare at Yuji, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “No! cause it’ll take too long and I won’t be hungry by then!”
“Yeah cause you’ll have eaten all of mine!” At this point, Megumi wanted to slam his head onto the table as if to wake him up from this embarrassment. But he couldn’t, because if that were to happen then he’d gain the attention of a certain y/c/h sat just three tables away.
All Megumi had done since they arrived 30 minutes ago was sit in a corner booth, with his head turned towards you and stare at your angelic form while sat opposite the two loudest idiots he calls his best friends with half his face buried in his high collar.
That was until you turned your pretty head towards them. Their table. Him.
At this realisation, Megumi’s eyes widened and a blush crept up his neck and stained his cheeks as he quickly whipped his head in the opposite direction, conveniently towards the wall next to him.
Or maybe not so convenient considering he probably looked like an idiot staring at a plain wall. But what else was he supposed to do when the one person he actually liked was staring straight at him?
Well, maybe not at him exactly but he was grouped with these idiots considering he was sat at the same table so that counted for something.
This was certainly not the way he wanted you to notice him.
And this did not go unnoticed by a particular boy sat opposite him, suddenly forgetting the petty argument moments before as he he took notice of his friends red face hidden in the collar of his uniform. Also, why was he staring at a wall? He’d barely even touched his food?
Observing the repetitive way Megumi’s eyes would go back and forth from darting around the cafe to quickly look at something or someone across the room.
Confused, Yuji’s eyes slowly followed where Megumi’s went.
Oh.
Oh.
The next day, Yuji took it upon himself to help his best friend out. And who better to recruit than the one and (thankfully) only Satoru Gojo, who was very keen on taking part in this plan.
What kind of adoptive father would he be if he didn’t help his growing son find love. Just the thought brought a tear to his eye.
Sat behind the dark haired boy in question, Yuji, as inconspicuous as he could possibly be (considering he was sat next to Nobara), raised his hand in a thumbs up motion. A signal that the plan was ready.
Satoru took notice of this as well as the longing gaze Megumi held as he tried to discreetly take a glance at you every few seconds. How had he not noticed before?
With a very loud and very obvious fake cough, Satoru gained the attention of his students. Satoru went to stand from his chair when he accidentally knocked some books over which were conveniently (or not so conveniently) placed on the corner of his desk where the said books landed on his feet, perfect.
“Ak! I’m injured!! Man down!” Their teacher yelled as he dramatically fell to the floor with the back of his hand placed on his forehead as if he was in one of Nobara’s dramas. He probably took inspiration from them actually.
The students, clearly not fazed in the slightest, turned back to their previous conversations ignoring the cries for help coming from the floor. Except for you of course.
Standing up and making your way towards your “injured” teacher, you crouched down to eye level as he lay motionless on the floor as if already succumbed to his fatal injuries if not for him peeking from under the arm that lay across his face.
“OH! Y/n-chan! My saviour! I feel as though I may not make it…” the said teacher explained in an overly dramatic sigh. “I’m sure you will Gojo” you replied with a slight pat on his stomach. “But if I don’t… I want you to do something for me-”
Before Gojo could ramble on any further he was cut short, “I’m not buying you mochi” you stated with a blank face.
“I understand why you would think that but no” he started before quickly switching back into his role, “these books that just so happened to fall in unison onto my now clearly fractured foot, needed to be delivered to principal Yaga! Oh what am I to do now!” Your teacher explained in an almost pained voice while flailing around on the floor.
“Why doesn’t Y/n do it!” The pink haired boy popped up from behind Megumi, who had been watching the ridiculous scene play out. “What a wonderful idea Yuji! Oh could you Y/n-chan? Would you help an injured man like me deliver these urgently needed books for me?” Gojo’s voice now laced with faux desperation while you were left confused, did he owe principal Yaga something again? Is that what this was about?
“Uhm, I suppose so, sure.” You could barely get the words out before Gojo jumped up onto his feet, realising his mistake and quickly leaning against his desk, the “fractured” foot elevated in the air. “Megumi! Why don’t you help Y/n-chan out huh? Be a gentleman will you?”
Megumi, already figuring out what he was up to planned on declining before he set his eyes on you. He didn’t care if he came off as rude, but to you? Megumi didn’t want you to think he was some sort of high and mighty jerk. That was the last thing he wanted.
So with a huff, Megumi stood, stuffing both hands into his pockets as he made his way towards you.
“You didn’t need to help me. They aren’t that heavy anyway” you tried explaining as you both walked towards Yaga’s office, trying to fill the silence with something, anything.
“It’s fine, really.” Did you not like his presence? Why were you acting so awkward? “So… your friends are pretty loud huh” you chuckled out.
Megumi grimaced at the recent memory, “You remember that?” He prayed that you wouldn’t remember that time, or at least not remember him.
“How could I not, it was pretty entertaining. Especially the way you stared at a wall” so you did notice him. “It was better than listening to them squabble.” He grumbled out with a sour look plastered on his face until he heard the prettiest sound leave your mouth, reminding him of a soft melody.
You laughed. Sure it was at him but you laughed at him. He made you laugh!
“Squabble? What are you? An old man?” You managed to wheeze out, the previous awkwardness quickly forgotten about.
“Y’know, with the way you’re teasing me and if I didn’t know any better, I might think you like me” what was meant to come out as a joke only started a chain of teasing on both parts. “I could say the same to you mr. Fushiguro” you retorted, a sly smile sneaking it’s way onto your face.
“And if I do? Would that be okay?” The sudden seriousness his voice held startled you. Slowing to a stop, you looked up at his tall frame and saw how genuine and truthful his eyes were causing a blush to quickly rise to your cheeks.
Averting your gaze towards the floor, you answered with a small smile,
“I suppose it would”
— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰
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bearseulgs · 3 months
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[16:32]
tutor!reader x ni-ki
genre: fluff
wc: 347
warnings: cheesy flirting, reader jokingly calls Riki a "sleaze", statistics class
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You sat in the library, waiting for Riki to arrive. When he got there, you opened your bag and got your work out as he did the same. The table was quite covered with all the schoolwork you needed to cover with him. Leaving your bag open, you made sure to tell the boy, "If any of your belongings fall into my bag, feel free to grab them, no hesitations." He just nodded and you smiled at him.
About an hour had passed, half of your session over already, and Riki seemed to be in his own world as you moved on to the next topic. You rapped your pencil sharply on his textbook, startling him back to reality. He apologized sheepishly as you chuckled at his behavior. "What about this chapter is confusing you?" you asked, returning your attention to the statistics papers in front of you two.
"Ah... all of it together? I know some individual concepts, but once you put in all these words together, like discrete random variables and the Z-score, I get lost."
"Understandable. Let me get some notes out, I think I have an explanation written somewhere." You rifled through your bag, looking for the probability notes that had come out of your binder. Huffing in frustration, you dug further, unable to find them, when suddenly you felt a warm hand on yours. Looking up in surprise, you see Riki holding your hand in his own. "Is everything alright, Riki?"
He smiled, a bit abashed, and brought your hand up to the table. "You said if anything of mine fell into your bag, to grab it, no hesitations." He laughed as you withdrew your hands from his, bringing them up to your face to hide your embarrassment.
When you collected yourself enough to look at him, you mumbled, "Gosh, Riki, you're such a sleaze," not meaning a word you said.
He feigned confusion, innocently replying, "But I was just getting my things out to study statistics." As you rolled your eyes, he laughed again.
"Go back to your textbook, Riki."
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a/n: this was such a great concept in my head and i have no idea how to fully properly convey it in any human language i speak
©️ bearseulgs 2024
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dayziiducks · 4 months
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Maybe we can..take up each others time 🕰️
m!crush x f!reader
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desc : basically your awkward ahh crush taking you out for a study date.. ( this is very much based on when i fly towards you so credits to the show and you should defo watch it on netflix )
warnings : cursing, and uh maybe offensive to historical figures ?????
As the school bell rang i couldn't help but want to rush to pack my bags and leave. Of course i had so much excitement, (c/n) asked me out. Well, kind of. He asked me for help in history after school and how could I say no to his face ?? so he arranged a study session for us. just us. I was ecstatic, but incredibly nervous. "You’ll be fine (y/n). Remember why (c/n) asked you out in the first place. You’re and amazing person and he’s an idiot if he breaks your heart." (bf/n) reassured me. I couldn’t help but smile at her compliments. She’s been my best friend since kindergarten so hearing her say such nice things about me always hits different. "Thank you (bf/n), wish me luck !!" I said, before running off towards (c/n) who was exiting his math class.
The walk to the library was fun..we chatted about our cultures and our past experiences and it was actually pretty interesting. We reached the library and we started studying pretty much. We were studying history since we had a big test coming up. Then, "You know I saw a Raffles x Farquad fanfiction on Wattpad once?" (c/n) said casually. what the actual fuck. "what the fuck do you do in your free time (c/n) ???? IS THIS WHY YOU’RE FAILING HISTORY ??? DID YOU WRITE THAT THEY WERE DATING IN YOUR PAPER ???" I asked, completely baffled. ( this actually happened irl js not to me 😨 ) " uh. Maybe ???" (c/n) replied, smiling awkwardly. "oh my fuck (c/n) if you’re basing your history info on FANFICTION instead of our textbooks you might be beyond my help." I said half-jokingly. "Awh don’t say that (y/n) we all know how much you love me" he said with a flirtatious grin on his face. I kinda mentally freaked out at that I’m not gonna lie but if he sees that I did I’m never gonna hear the end of it. So I rolled my eyes jokingly and said "Maybe you should focus on our history lectures instead of focusing on me" Well that shut him up. (in a good way 😋)
The study session continued until about 6PM when we started to head home. I was walking out of the library when he tugged on my sleeve and I turned around to look at him. The sun was starting to set and he was looking into my eyes in a way my heart couldn’t handle. "uhh..I was wondering if you’d like me to tutor you in (subj/n). I know you said you needed help in it to (bf/n)…so I thought I could help.." he said shyly while averting his eyes. "Oh..but I don’t want to take up your time.." I said, not wanting to be a burden to him especially since he’s already failing a class. To that he replied, "well, if you tutor me in history then..maybe we can..take up each others time…?" he said awkwardly. God he’s so cute I can’t do this i’m literally gonna pass out and ascend to fuckin Celestia. "oh ! If you don’t mind then I’d love to be your study buddy" "yeah ?" he asked grinning boyishly. "yeah." I replied as we walked towards the bus stop. Study buddy…he’s not my boyfriend yet but it’s a good start. I don’t mind us taking up each others time anyway.
hii :) I hope you guys liked this cute little fanfic and I regret to tell y’all that I’m traveling soon so I won’t be able to update for 8-10 days but I will continue to update after I come back. Thanks for reading !! 😋
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
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By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.
She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.
"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.
"Steve Harrington."
"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"
"Oh, er--just me, actually."
Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"
Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."
So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.
Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.
"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"
Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"
Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
"Little bit," Steve smiles.
"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.
"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."
"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.
After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.
---
Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.
He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
"You alright, man?" Steve asks.
Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.
"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."
His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."
He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"
He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.
"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.
Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.
---
It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.
He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.
Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.
He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.
Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.
"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.
"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.
"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."
Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.
He is so weird.
---
In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.
Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.
Flirting with her is easy.
He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.
It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"
Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.
It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.
"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.
He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.
Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.
---
They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.
They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.
Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.
Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.
A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.
Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.
Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.
He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.
He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.
---
When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
"Have you seen my notebook?"
"What?" Steve's heart drops.
"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"
"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.
"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.
Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.
"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.
They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.
"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.
Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."
"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.
The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.
Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.
"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.
"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."
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munsster · 1 year
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hii!! i'd like to request a steve harrington x fem!reader fic pls <33 reader confesses to steve, but he says he doesn't like her. then reader's all 'okay fine, i'm gonna move on' and when she actually does that, steve is 🥺 lots of angst please and some steve grovelling teehee <33
gut feeling
A/N: okay yes 😏 i screwed this up the littlest bit, but i hope it still tickles ur fancy. also i’ve seen this done for king!steve and i wanted to write it for s4 steven
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have big feelings for Steve, he’s just not sure he feels the same way. 3.6k words.
Warnings: angst, but it resolves into fluff, unrequited love trope, lots of feelings, friends to lovers?, CURSING!, italics, established friendship, feat. Keith 😑
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"You think it would be gross if we kissed?"
Steve thinks you might actually sound hurt, but he also thinks the face he's making is hilarious beyond belief: kind of contorted and screwed inward, nose scrunched and trying really hard to batten down a grin. You glare at him from the passenger's seat, arms crossed tight over your green Family Video vest.
You think he's wonderful despite his naiveté. If only he knew how handsome you thought he was, all caramel locks and big brown eyes and the kind of smile that reaches his eyes before he's even thought of it. No wonder he has an ego up to the moon. No wonder he still manages to weasel his way into the creases and crevices of any living creature's heart. Even yours. Hell, especially yours.
"Yeah, duh!"—and he's so sure of it, you could cry—"You're like the little sister I never had!"
You chuckle but you look like you're about to hurl yourself out of the car or get yourself arrested for manslaughter. Thank God he's only a block away from your house, or he'd never see the light of day again. Does he really think of you like that? The soft laughter peters out into a grating silence that burns right down your throat and feels like hard metal settling in your lungs.
He doesn't dare glance over at you. He only bites down hard around nothing and grimaces, eyes set hard on the lines dashing beneath the grill of his car. Jesus Christ, he does not think of you like that. And he begs whatever stupid pride is keeping him steady in this nonexistent pissing contest to leave it be, but its jaw is set in the tender meat of the game.
"Don't have to be so jovial about it," you grumble.
"What?"
"Mine's on the left," you grumble, nodding out the window. Oh, he's definitely in trouble. You only ignore him like this when he's done something boyish to a fault.
"I know. I drive you home every—hey!"
"Bye," you coo, booking it up the steps to your door, refusing to turn over your shoulder for fear that you'll burst into tears upon seeing him smile or frown or crack the slightest look of confusion.
He watches you slam the door and rolls the passenger window up with a frustrated sigh. Where the Hell did that come from and why. All while you're sitting against the foot of your bed, chattering into the phone at Robin, still wearing your uniform and tugging at strands of your hair as expletives weave themselves between every three words.
"Oh my Fucking God, I'm so fucking embarrassed right now, Robs—Does he—? Does he think I'm some sort of fuckin' baby? I just don't—"
"He's just being Steve, okay? He probably didn't mean it—"
"The way he looked at me, Robin, I felt like a fucking imbecile. Of all the dickheads in the world I could fall for, my heart chose Harrington? Maybe I'm the idiot." You sigh and kick your feet out, the frustration winding up new nerves and letting them go like tight springs to fling out over your body.
She sighs and it rattles through the grainy speaker. "You're not an idiot; he has his moments. Don't beat yourself up, you know how he gets. He's probably not thinking straight, just... tell him? The worst he can say is—"
"That I'm like a sister to him? Oh, how delightful. That's even worse than just flat out admitting I'm unattractive."
"You're not unattractive, don't do that."
"I am to him," you groan.
"Hey," she hums after a beat of crackling silence. You close your eyes and grip the sickly yellow receiver a little tighter.
"I really like him."
"I know."
"And it sucks."
"I know." The other end rustles and you let out a curt sigh just as you move to stand. "I love you, and I'm here for you. Especially when dumb boys make you feel like shit. You'll always be the most amazing and most beautiful girl in my life, don't forget that."
"Thank you. I'll see you, Robs."
"Take it easy."
Steve wakes up to an ache in his neck and a soreness in his knuckles. You didn't call him last night. And he's assuming you didn't call him before school this morning because his alarm clock flashes eleven, first period starts at eight-thirty, and the tone his ancient landline emits is shrill enough to deafen a man. Let alone wake him up in a cold sweat. He concocts a sick feeling in his stomach of burnt orange shame and maroon guilt because he has to wait until closing shift tonight to explain himself to you.
But by then, he's feeling spiteful. You weren't home when he went to pick you up and he waited ten minutes and knocked on the door in bulk. Until someone who was not you answered and told him that you'd gotten a ride with some jerk from the Hawkins High football team. That's not how it was originally said, but that's how he heard it. So you're avoiding him? It makes him spit up a little in his mouth, and he's going about twenty over the speed limit the entire way to make it on time.
By the time he can fling open the glass door and hear the sound of the tiny bell, he spots you in the back corner with a stack of tapes under your arm. Listening to music. To drown him out. And it makes him frown. Six hours. That's how long he'd have to endure this, then he could go home and not call you and not be able to sleep.
The casette in your Walkman can only run for so long, right? But he watches you rewind it after an hour and a half and slumps against the front desk when you grab a new stack of tapes from behind him. He simmers down after the first half of the shift, and of course, the fact that you won't talk to him rubs him the wrong way, but what's even worse is that now you're bumming rides off of losers on the worst football team in all of Indiana.
He gets worked up thinking about that guy's motivation and how many times he probably tried to make a pass at you. Steve would never do that to you. Even if he wanted to, he's a gentleman at heart. He could beat that jerk to a pulp just imagining him giving you the look. God forbid that sucker puts his hands on you. Steve would get charged with battery before ever letting that happen.
It's not like he can say anything to you about it either. He's pissed, and he knows himself. He'd get all angry and confrontational, and you deserve better than that. It's his fault you got there first, and it's his fault you got to stocking, and it's his fault you're tuning him out. But he didn't think what he said last night would be worth all that trouble.
"If you keep up the optic blast, I'm gonna buy you a ruby-quartz visored monocle." And that droning voice could only belong to one overbearing manager.
"What do you need, Keith?" Steve grumbles, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches you looking to the front of the store to watch the encounter with a smirk.
"Duty calls, Harrington. Corporate sent us more shelf space. Need someone to unload it into the office," Keith murmurs, shooting a glance your way, "And, uh... it's kind of unwieldy, so get the kid to help you out."
It makes Steve's eye twitch because you're not some kid. And if you heard Keith refer to you as such, you'd unleash a fleet of curses on him. Only Steve is allowed to call you that. Because it's funny, duh. You're a year younger than him, obviously he's going to use that to his comedic advantage. Oh.
He lets out a sigh—"alright"—and leaves Keith to man the front while he skirts to the back of the store and leads you by the hand through the office.
"'The Hell, Harrington?" you hiss, but you keep your fingers locked between Steve's, abandoning the rest of the tapes on Keith's desk and jogging to catch up with his stride. As forward and demanding as his grip may be, you have to admit, the warmth of his palm is comforting and it makes your heart race because you've never held hands with Steve before. And in any other circumstance, you might've been able to enjoy it a little more.
"Keith told me to tell you that you have to help me bring a shelf in from the truck."
"Oh, I have to?" you bark, now pulling your hand away and putting your headphones around your neck once you exit through the back door with him. "And you didn't think to give me a warning before yanking on my arm?"
"Yes, you have to, and maybe if you weren't listening to that shit so loud, you would've been in the loop." It comes out far more harsh than he intended, and that was exactly what he was afraid of happening in a confrontation with you. His brow softens, and the tension in his upper back and jaw dissipates into his own self-pity party. "And I didn't yank on your arm. Or at least I didn't mean to, so I'm sorry for that much."
Steve hops up into the truck and offers you a hand you don't take as much as you both wish you would have. Because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you have to stop yourself from cheering yourself on. Maybe this will be your first literal step towards getting over him. Once and for all.
After about fifteen minutes of heaving and ho-ing, the two of you manage to haul the shelf into the office as per Keith's request. He was right: it was unwieldy. The awkward grip spots caused a lot of overlap, and you both flinched away from the physical contact in a matter of milliseconds. But Steve couldn't deny he felt bad, and you couldn't deny that you definitely still had feelings for him.
You grab your previously abandoned stack of tapes to scurry out of the office, but Steve stops you by the elbow. And you glare back at him.
"Sorry. The... yanking, I know"—he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down—"Look, I'm not entirely sure what happened last night in the car, but it clearly made you uncomfortable, and I'd like to apologize."
He can see the neurons firing when he looks you in the eye, but he can also see that his apology wasn't effective in the slightest. Because you're still anger-ridden and fuming at him. You put your headphones on and go back to restocking shelves.
He checks the digital clock above the door. Two hours till eleven. Great.
And they creep by like refrigerated molasses. Second by second. Every time he glances at the clock, only a minute has passed. Eventually, though, he starts cleaning up for closing: vacuuming, cleaning the windows, fixing the display. And he finds himself getting a little more efficient at checking tapes back in and rewinding them only so you'll cruise by the front—scowling at him, but nonetheless at him—to grab a new stack and shelf it.
Five minutes to closing and a sleek, blue sedan pulls into the parking lot, and you practically beam at it, grinning and skipping to the front. You grab your bag from under the counter next to Steve's hip and shove your Walkman into it.
"You know, my car works perfectly fine," he grumbles, "don't have to replace me with some football jerk." He knows that struck a nerve because your smile immediately flickers away into a squint.
"That football jerk is bilingual, a painter, and lets me listen to the music I like in his car."
"But that's not the rules," he whines, desperately defending himself against some sports guy who's probably taking advantage of you.
"Well, I like him and he's nice to me." You sling your bag over your shoulder triumphantly, marching towards the door.
Steve is aghast at the implication. He thought you liked listening to the radio. Plus he took Spanish and art for the required two years, it's not that great of an achievement.
Still, he sputters out, "Yeah, well—"
You wave over your shoulder. "Later, Steve."
Since when did he become such a loser.
He watches jerk-face open the car door for you then glance over to wave at him with a perfect smile and perfect hair and perfect manners. What an asshole. Steve does not wave back.
"That's the kinda guy she likes?" he fusses into the phone, palming his face while Robin chuckles on the other line. This whole time he thought for sure you liked the self-assured, cocky, college-age boy type. And now you're dating a high schooler. Come on, jerk-face is not even that good looking.
"First of all, they're not dating. Second of all, don't lie to make yourself feel better; even I can admit he's basically a Greek god," Robin says, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "Third... why do you care? You’re acting like it’s your job to protect her, but it’s not. She’s an adult now, you know, she can take her of herself.”
He lets out a puff of air through his nose, blinking hard and leaning into the pale yellow receiver. Then mumbling: "She told you."
And she replies, cheerily: "Yup."
"Well—! I just... don't want to see her get hurt. I know that type of guy. I used to be that type of guy. He's bad news, I can tell."
"Right,” Robin scoffs, “It's definitely not because you love her.”
"I don't love her. She's just a baby, and we don't even like the same things. It would never work out between us, there's no connection." They both know it’s a lame excuse, but it’s worked up until this moment. It’s worked since the day you met. You’re too young, the end. Sure, you can be cute sometimes, but you’re also a pain in the ass and you two could never get along long enough to stitch together a real relationship.
But Robin sees through all of that shit. And she’s over it.
“Okay, maybe, but she listens when you talk about cars, and you buy the albums she likes even when she only mentions them once. Plus, you both love Dustin like he's an extra limb”—she’s right, you love that kid to death and Lord knows Steve looks after him like a son—“I think as much as you wretch and complain over her being too young and the connection not 'being there', it seems like you try an awful lot to get her to like you."
He immediately rejects the idea with a scoff.
"Of course I’d want a cool person to like me, old fuckin’ habits die hard. But that's all. She's cool and has a good sense of style and tells the best jokes and makes me feel smart and listens to me, and right now I'm feeling pretty crazy because maybe I do love her and I blew it because... because? Because I don’t know why—but she's probably sitting in some jerk's car listening to her favorite songs and watching him paint the sunset while speaking Spanish or whatever."
Robin closes her eyes, and Steve’s annoyed by the fact that he can hear her smirking. "Jesus Christ, I need to start charging you idiots for my time"—and she sighs—"Just... tell her all that cheese. And maybe throw in an apology or two. I don't know, do what you usually do when you pick up girls.”
He’s frustrated. And annoyed. But he throws a thanks at her anyway and stomps down the stairs and to his beamer. It’s not until he’s shrouded in the piercing light of the convenience store that he realizes three things: he’s still in his work uniform, it’s midnight, and he’s pretty sure he does love you. He grabs a bouquet, not even realizing it’s a bouquet of amaryllis and baby’s breath—he’d prefer roses, but ‘tis not the season, as the cashier told him.
Minutes later, he’s muttering under his breath like he’s mad, waiting for someone to answer your door. And thank God you do.
“Steve—?”
“Oh, shit, did I—were you—?”
“Oh, no, I was just…”—thinking about him—“nothin’. What’re you doing here?”
He pushes a furious hand through his hair, then tucks a chunk behind his ear, worrying at his bottom lip. More nervous than he’s been in his whole life. Then he flashes those soft brown eyes at you, and you’re toast. You step onto your doormat and shut the door behind you because he starts into his sentence like a blazing fire:
"I feel so stupid, and I’m sorry for saying you're like a little sister to me; I don’t believe that, and it couldn’t be further from the truth. You're not like a sister to me, you're like the only thing that matters and I feel like I wanna learn another language for you and take a cooking class for you and listen to your music with you. I just, I mean I’m trying to say you make me want to be a better person, and I feel like I’m already a better person whenever I’m around you. I... what I’m saying—and I promise I’m getting to it—is that I’m sorry for being so stupid and not seeing it before, but I think you're beautiful and I'd be honored if you'd forgive me and maybe consider letting me take you out sometime. Like on a date."
He’s breathing heavily, looking and feeling manic, and your eyes are wide as you slowly process his confession. It goes down like sweet wine, floral down your throat and settling in your tummy like candy. But still: what the fuck? Is he insane? Are you insane?
His hair is flopped to one side, and his work vest is snug around his shoulders. You step forward slowly, and the creases in his forehead seem to go smooth. And you point to the bouquet.
“For me?”
Steve glances down. "Oh, yeah, got em for you. Sorry they're not roses, it's not—"
"I love them, thank you."
He nods. And you smile. And despite how beautiful the soft pink and white flowers are, you’re not particularly focused on their safety when you hook your arms beneath his and rope him into a hug. It’s clearly just what he needed when he goes pliant and heavy against your chest, smiling into your neck as his hands wrap over your shoulders.
"I think we might both be stupid,” you whisper.
He chuckles. "Yup. Just a couple of stupids. Geez, what kinda pair are we?" You both pull away. Only to look at each other squarely. To see a smile creep and creep across the other’s face. And he cocks a brow and says, "By the way, worst twenty-four hours of my life—"
And that’s saying something after the last three years.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Steve, I was just so—"
"I know."
"So confused and disappointed, it was—"
"Torture, yeah, don't even think about doing that ever again,” he teases, pinching your side and scrunching his nose when you pinch him back.
"Yeah. Well, never tell me I’m like a little sister to you ever again.”
Gross.
"I don't plan on it"
With the slow bat of your lashes, and the tender curve of your lips, he can’t not think about kissing you. Not in this light. Not under the meddling moon, and not holding your waist like cupping pools of honey.
Then you look away. For all the shit you talk, he manages to make you far more shy than he ever anticipates. And it gives him butterflies to see you duck away.
"You know, I think you're pretty beautiful yourself, Harrington.”
Oh, he’s blushing now. The blood gushes hot to his face, he could sweat buckets right here and now. You can probably hear his heartbeat. Jesus Christ, what’ve you done to him? You can tell he’s nervous when he chuckles softly. "Does this mean I can start giving you rides again?"
You pretend to weigh your options. As if there would ever be a better alternative. "Only if you let me play my music sometimes.”
"Absolutely. I never liked the radio much anyway."
You let go of him only to cradle your bouquet in both hands, admiring the petals while Steve puts his hands back in his pockets.
"Then I'll see you later," he says. Grinning ear to ear, mind you.
"Yeah,” you coo, “I’ll see you."
With one hand on his shoulder, you plant a kiss on his willing cheek and let him go. But before he can make it to his car you holler, “Wait!” and he jogs back over to you.
"Did I forget somethin’?"
“Yeah,” you poke, "you forgot about our date."
He tilts his head a little, brows furrowed. "Our... our date? What do you mean our… Ohhhh”—he nods in understanding, suddenly hit with a wave of excitement and embarrassment—"Does tomorrow work? We could grab lunch or dinner or something and maybe stop by the arcade or—oh, the fair's in town, that could be kinda fun, unless you don't want to, I mean—"
"Steve?" you hum.
“Mhm?”
"I'd love to."
And suddenly his ego is miles through the roof; he's nodding and grinning and it’s like he can’t wait to wake up tomorrow just to see you again.
"Me too. Okay. Yeah! I'll see you then."
"Bye, Stevie.” You give him a small wave, and the shroud of plastic around the bouquet crinkles like the corners of his eyes at the idea of tomorrow.
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AHHH HIHII!! i luv ur work it literally has me twirling my hair and shi, i was wondering if u could write a neteyam x navin reader where the reader is like playing with tuk and neteyam realizes he was in love with reader on the spot the whole time and he could imagine like a future with the reader aswell?? TYSM I LOVE UR WRITING SM
Something About You
Tags: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader, Fem!Reader, Fluff, Crush Blush, Longing Look, Tuk is The Best Wingman, Good With Kids
Warnings: None
One afternoon, Neteyam had to watch over his youngest sister. You insisted on accompanying him, and he agreed, not minding the extra help. As you played with Tuk, the thought crossed Neteyam's mind that suddenly, you might just be the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.
EIOEWGHOEH EVERYTIME I SEE ASKS LIKE THIS I START GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET LMAOO 😭😭 this idea is super lovely, and tysm for the support, happy new years btw ♥♥ also if u look at the title, I based it off the eyedress song 🤭 italics are Neteyam’s thoughts btw!!
* ˚ ✦ 1075 Words • Read below the cut
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╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [01/01/23] ❞  
Neteyam sighed as he followed you and his sister. His parents had requested him to watch after her today, and you had overheard their chat. You asked Neteyam if you could accompany him because you enjoyed playing with Tuk, and he concurred. He's never been sure what his little sister liked to do, so your assistance was greatly appreciated.
Tuk squeezed your hand as you guided her towards the woods. The sun was shining brilliantly, and the foliage was soaking up the warmth. The trees were golden in hue, and you eventually found a large expanse of grass for you and Tuk to romp in.
Neteyam selected a tree to relax against, and settled comfortably while you and Tuk traveled only a little further away. He looked at you both, laughing and spinning around the woodland.
Neteyam was frightened for a moment and nearly leapt out of his seat when you lifted up Tuk to toss her into the air, but he calmed down when he saw how effortlessly you retrieved her again. He cannot help but be concerned about his siblings' welfare, but he knows you're excellent with children. You'd never do anything that would harm them.
Tuk's laugh resonated through the treetops as she pleaded with you to throw her again. She appeared to be having fun, but you suddenly realized that Neteyam must be bored sitting alone and observing.
You caught Tuk once more and gently lowered her on the grass. “Neteyam, why don’t you come here and play with us?”
He shook his head, and smiled. “I’m okay.”
You shrugged, and continued to play with his little sister.
...
You ultimately grew tired of tossing Tuk into the air, so you devised a brilliant plan.
“Tuk, why don’t I decorate your braids?”
She seemed perplexed for a moment, before you clarified that you were going to pick out some flowers to put in her hair. Her eyes sparkled at the thought, and she, of course, answered yes.
Tuk was seated in your lap as you meticulously ornamented her braids with an assortment of various, colorful flowers you had gathered. Neteyam maintained his gaze from a distance, and he began to grin to himself. He thought to himself that you were wonderful with kids, and his smile only grew even wider when Tuk gazed into her reflection in a nearby waterhole.
She giggled with delight at her enhanced appearance. “Thank you so much Y/N!”
Because she was so adorable, you pinched her cheeks.
Tuk scrunched up her nose, recoiling from the action. “Let me put flowers in your braids too!”
You agreed with a nod and sat down in front of her. You failed to notice Neteyam's intense stare at you as Tuk adorned your tresses with the leftover blossoms. The sunlight cascaded over you so sweetly that you gleamed like a gift from Eywa herself. Neteyam couldn't believe he'd never noted how stunning you were, and the feeling was further accentuated by the flowers in your hair. He massaged his burning cheeks with his palm; was he blushing?
Tuk's amusement at using you as her personal doll unabated, and the one idea orbiting Neteyam's short-circuiting mind, aside from how you looked straight out of his dreams, was how natural you were with children. Would you behave similarly with your children together, too?
Wait, what?
He had to mentally scold himself for thinking such a thing. Even though it felt improper to envisage it with you because you were only a friend, he couldn't peel the gaze of burning desire away from you. His brain begged him to suppress these feelings, but his heart and blazing cheeks revealed a different story.
His heart stopped. When you decided to turn around, you met his eyes that refused to look away. Neteyam sucked in a breath, fearful for a moment that you could see into his thoughts. He released a sigh of relief as you merely cracked a smile towards him, not knowing how he was really staring at you.
Then another terrifying thought had crossed his mind. Had he always liked you?
You veered away from Tuk to catch a glimpse of your reflection in the waterhole as Neteyam battled with himself internally. You clasped your hands together, praising Tuk on her work, and hugged her warmly. She was scooped up again and twirled around.
You sidled up to Neteyam after you had laid Tuk down, scratching the back of your neck. The sunshine from behind your figure seeped into his vision as he stared up at you through his thick lashes. He didn't mind that he could only see you.
You looked at him sheepishly. “How do I look?”
He snapped out of his reverie, and stuttered for a moment before registering that you asked him a question.
“So pretty.”
As you looked straight at him stupidly, he threw his palm over his mouth. You were both matching blushes as you were suddenly feeling blisteringly hot. Tuk giggled from behind you, her eyes narrowed at her brother.
It didn't help that she was whispering 'Neteyam's got a cruushh...'
Damn that child.
You turned around to hear what she said, and out of your peripheral vision, Neteyam lifted his fist at her, mouthing for her to quit speaking. When your gaze met hers you arched an eyebrow, but she had already closed her mouth and remained serious. She cracked an innocent smile at you.
You looked back at Neteyam, and decided that all of a sudden you had very, very important obligations to attend to at that moment.
“Well, I think I should get home now, haha!”
Neteyam stood up abruptly, laughing nervously. He was chanting in his head to speak confidently.
He stuttered instead. “Oh, me too, haha! Me and Tuk should be meeting with our parents again.”
You couldn't stop giggling uncontrollably like idiots, and while you were heading in opposite directions, you unintentionally bonked heads. He groaned in pain as he touched the tender region on his forehead, but apologized profusely when he noticed that you were also afflicted.
You couldn't bear how mortified you were, so you let out a torrent of apologies and hurried out of the woodland as swiftly as you could. You couldn't believe Neteyam had declared you were pretty!
In your wake, you left behind a trail of flowers. Neteyam discreetly grabbed and pocketed one. You know, for safekeeping.
There was just something about you.
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urwifebabes · 1 month
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Hi, this is my first time requesting, and I had an idea. Could you do a reader x dogday x catnap where the reader used to live with catnap and dogday when they were human, but when they mysteriously disappeared, they escaped from play co but came back years later to find out what happened to them. Please and thank you also sorry if this is a lot.
I hope this satisfies you, love.
“You’re back..?”
Relationship(s): catnap x player!reader x Dogday 🔞
Warning(s): angst, fluff, smut (in that order.)
your fingers grazed the cement, it had dried blood stains on it , here and there. you see the toys took in consideration how you taught them how to clean up thoroughly. all the blood from “The Hour Of Joy” was almost all cleaned up. it was a miracle you decided to escape before that day but you doubt that Catnap and Dogday would have let you die.
you finally came to the playcare, where you had been assigned to work your first day. you smiled softly, remembering the events of that day. you had been assigned to be either catnaps helper or Dogdays. but you being you, you asked for them both and the higher ups didn’t see why not? You’d help them with the kids, you’d help them with cooking, you’d help bathe them, and anything else they wanted you to do. Dogday warmed up to you from the moment you arrived. it took catnap atleast 9 months to get used to you and even begin to talk to you. when he’d be taped by the higher ups, you usually had to be in the room for him to even say anything else besides about “his savior, the prototype.” experiment 1006, you believe.
you had made it to this jail like place. it looked disgusting. the jail cells bars were rusty and had dried blood. Some cell doors on the ground. you came across one cell and your heart stopped. Dogday. Dogday was.. alive? and where was his legs? your body reacted before you could think and you unlocked him from his shackles. you hurriedly carried him away while the critters were just now noticing he was gone when one came for a quick “snack”. you made your way through the tunnels and made your way to the old operation room. Dogday had been out cold as you laid him down on the desk and began to work.
Dogday opened his eyes, finding his spare legs attached to his body. he looked around, his head still abit woozy. he sat up and sighed, happily. his eyes locked on you, taking off your bloodied gloves. if he wasn’t so damn happy right now, he’d cry. he got up and hugged you, wrapping his hands around your waist, his tail wagging. “Angel!”
Dogday had slowly but surely cried into your chest as you gently pet him. he hadn’t seen you since a couple days before “The Hour Of Joy.” He thought you had.. no he wouldn’t think it again. he looked up at you with tears and his nose running. he sniffed and sat up “you’re back?.. this isn’t a bad dream, is it?” You shook your head as Dogday smiled at you. he kissed you sweetly before pulling you into a monster sized hug. “I missed you, Angel.”
you two had begun to walk around the complex. you had a moment of weakness and whispered to Dogday, “where’s catnap? is he safe?” Dogday only looked at you before he took a hardened breath. “that.. thing is not catnap.” You didn’t quite understand but you figured it was a hard subject and didn’t ask anymore. you wish you did though, when you saw him.
“D—Dogday, who is that?” you asked as you had begun to back away. Dogday reacted before he said anything and he grabbed you, running as fast as he could with his new found legs. He had you over his shoulder as you watched catnap chase after you two. he looked sick, evil, and .. shocked? you guys had ended up in a dead end and he had you both cornered.
Catnap had circled around you both for about 8 minutes, you’d say before he came closer to you. Dogday had protectively pulled you behind him. Catnap looks at him and with one quick swipe , he threw Dogday into the wall. leaving you open prey. you waited for impact, only to find the cat staring at you. you could swear his eyes started to soften and his eyes began to drip tears. you knew he missed you , you left and escapes without the two knowing and then “The Hour Of Joy” happened. you came closer, cautiously. you put your hands on his face and gently rubbed back and forth (he was leaning down). he let out soft purrs, seemingly relaxing for the first time since that day.
Catnap had gone back to his “bigger body” form much like Dogday. He had apologized to Dogday as you had forced him to. Dogday said it would take time but they would get there, eventually. you all sat and conversated, mainly you telling about your life. before long, you were against the wall. Catnap kissing your lips, his tongue slimy and down your throat as Dogday finger fucked you open. he knew they were both too big for you, but you wanted to try so.. no harm there, right?
Dogday held your legs open as catnap thrusted into your tight heat brutally. feeling how your hot velvety walls clinged at his lengthy cock when he tried to pull out. “good fuckin’ girl.. so wet f’me.” Catnaps words slurred as he pushed abit more inside. he looked down at you, seeing your face contorted in both pleasure and some pain. he waited for a moment more before he picked up his brutal assault on your pretty pussy. Dogday whispered sweet words to you as he brushed the tears off your face. soon enough, catnap came inside you, thrusting one more time to push his cum deeper. you let out a pleasured whimper as your head fell back. Dogday smiles as he kisses your lips, waiting for catnap to pull out completely.
Dogday kissed the inner parts of your thighs. he then reached your heat and took in the sight. your clit swollen, pussy convulsing around nothing, and the pink look it had. Dogday chuckled as he placed butterfly kisses to your clit. catnap held you down as Dogday teased you. he eventually wrapped his own hands around your thighs. his tongue came out hot, heavy, and moist. you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your throat. he fucked his tongue into you, ruthlessly. he ate you liked he’d been starved for years and he couldn’t live without the taste. he was humping his cock against the dead plush pathetically, as you could see the pre-cum gushing out his discolored tip. catnap watched the scene unfold, stroking his own cock as he watched.
soon enough, Dogday was fucking into you like a mad dog. his balls heavy with unshed cum that he just wanted to dump into you. make sure you have his pups, not any kittens. Dogday growled as he bit the side of your neck, not enough to hurt, but to leave a mark as he thrusted a few more times pumping his love into you. catnap had been stroking himself to the pace Dogday had set and he had came on your face and hair as soon as Dogday did. you? well, you had came a total of 4 times and this was just their seconds. you sighed as you watched them switch positions again, catnap opening your leg to show your pretty glistening hole.
A/N: hi! Sorry this took so long. I hope this was good! if you wanna be tagged when I post, just let me know! also for the others that requested, I promise I’m working on it.
TAGS: @2faced-fairy
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bones-of-a-rabbit · 4 months
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eclipse makes u a hot cocoa,, and is SMOOCHED!!!! (what happens next will shock you) ...THANKING ur ROBOT BOYFRIEND for giving u a hot cocoa GOES WRONG???? (how many kisses does it take to smother a human being???? we found out...)
aka a small late christmas gift for anyone here who likes my lil Clipsy boi,, drawing this spiraled wildly out of control bc it was only going to be the first three doodles but i was streaming it and my friends went absolutely nuts over Shy Clips Trying To Flirt U so uh. here we are i hope u like it kjsdfhsjdfhdkj
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